YALE UNIVERSITY
LIBRARY

THE
LITERARY WORKS
OF
SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS, KT.
late president of the royal academy;
CONTAINING
HIS DISCOURSES, PAPERS IN THE IDLER, THE JOURNAL OF A
TOUR THROUGH FLANDERS AND HOLLAND,
AND ALSO
HIS COMMENTARY ON DU FRESNOY'S ART OF PAINTING.
PRINTED FROM THE AUTHOR'S REVISED COPIES,
With his last Corrections and Additions.

IN THREE VOLUMES.

TO WHICH IS PREFIXED,
&>ome Hccouw of tfje 3ltfe of tge #utgor,
By EDMOND MALONE, Esa,

ONE OF HIS EXECUTORS,

THE FIFTH EDITION, CORBECTED :
In which is now included,
A MEMOIR OF THE LIFE OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS,
By JOSEPH FARINGTON, Esq. R. A.
— Quasi non ea prsecipiam aliis, quae mihi ipsi desunt. — Ciceho.

VOLUME THE SECOND.

LONDON :
PRINTKD FOR T. CADELL AND W. DAVIES, IN THE STRAND,
BOOKSELLERS TO THE ROYAL ACADEMY.
1819.

Printed by A. Stratum,
Printers-Street, London.

CONTENTS OF
THE SECOND VOLUME.

DISCOURSE IX.

On the removal of the Royal Academy to Somerset-
Place. The advantages to society from culti
vating intellectual pleasure  Page 1
DISCOURSE X.
Sculpture : Has but one style. Its objects, form,
and character. Ineffectual attempts of the mo
dern Sculptors to improve the art. Ill effects of
modern dress in Sculpture  9
DISCOURSE XI.
Genius : Consists principally in the comprehension
of\ whole ; in taking general ideas only . 39
DISCOURSE XII.
Particular methods of study of little consequence
— Little of the art can be taught^. — Love of
method often a love of idleness. Pittori improv-
visatori apt to be careless and incorrect ; seldom
original and striking :< — This proceeds from
their not studying the works of other masters. 69

iv CONTENTS.
DISCOURSE XIII.
Art not merely imitation, but under the direction
of the Imagination. In what manner Poetry,
Painting, Acting, Gardening, and Architecture,
depart from Nature  Page 109
DISCOURSE XIV.
Character o/'Gainsborough ; his excellencies and
defects  145
DISCOURSE XV.
The President takes leave of the Academy. A
Review of the Discourses. The study of the
Works o/'Michael Angelo recommended. . 179
The Idler, No. 76. False Criticisms on Paint
ing  219
 No. 79. The Grand Style of Painting 229
 — No. 82. TJie true idea of Beauty 235
Journey to Flanders and Holland  245

DISCOURSE IX.
DELIVERED AT THE OPENING OF
THE ROYAL ACADEMY,
IN
SOMERSET-PLACE,
OCTOBER 16. 1780.

VOL. II.

DISCOURSE IX.

ON THE REMOVAL OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY TO SOMER
SET-PLACE.  THE ADVANTAGES TO SOCIETY FROM
CULTIVATING INTELLECTUAL PLEASURE.
GENTLEMEN,
1 he honour which the Arts acquire by
being permitted to take possession of this
noble habitation, is one of the most con
siderable of the many instances we have
received of His Majesty's protection ; and
the strongest proof of his desire to make
the Academy respectable.
Nothing has been left undone, that might
contribute to excite our pursuit, or to re
ward our attainments. We have already
the happiness of seeing the Arts in a state to
which they never before arrived in this na
tion. This Building, in which we are now
assembled, will remain to many future ages
b 2

4. THE NINTH DISCOURSE.
an illustrious, specimen of the Archi
tect's* abilities. It is our duty to endeavour
that those who gaze with wonder at the
structure, may not be disappointed when they
visit the apartments. It will be no small
addition to the glory which this nation has
already acquired from having given birth to
eminent men in every part of science, if it
should be enabled to produce, in conse
quence of this institution, a School of Eng
lish Artists. The estimation in which we
stand in respect to our neighbours, will be
in proportion to the degree in which we ex
cel or are inferior to them in the acquisition
of intellectual excellence, of which Trade
and its consequential riches must be ac
knowledged to give the means ; but a peo
ple whose whole- attention is absorbed in
those means, and who forget the end, < can
aspire but little above the rank of a barba
rous nation. Every establishment that tends
to the cultivation of the pleasures of the
mind, as distinct from those of sense, may
be considered as an inferior school of
morality, where the mind is polished and
prepared for higher attainments.
* Sir William Chambers.
G

THE NINTH DISCOURSE. 6
Let us for a moment take a short survey
of the progress of the mind towards what is,
or ought to be, its true object of attention.
Man, in his lowest state, has no pleasures
but those of sense, and no wants but those
of appetite ; afterwards, when society is
divided into different ranks, and some are
appointed to labour for the support of others,
those whom their superiority sets free from
labour, begin to look for intellectual enter
tainments. Thus, whilst the shepherds
were attending their flocks, their masters
made the first astronomical observations ; so
musick is said to have had its origin from a
man at leisure listening to the strokes of a
hammer. As the senses, in the lowest state of na
ture, are necessary to direct us to our sup
port, when that support is once secure there
is danger in following them further ; to him
who has no rule of action but the gratifica
tion of the senses, plenty is always danger
ous : it is therefore necessary to the happi
ness of individuals, and still more necessary
to the security of society, that the mind
should be elevated to the idea of general
b 3

6 THE NINTH DISCOURSE,
beauty, and the contemplation of general
truth ; by this pursuit the mind is always
carried forward in search of something more
excellent than it finds, and obtains its proper
superiority over the common senses of life,
by learning to feel itself capable of higher
aims and nobler enjoyments. In this gra
dual exaltation of human nature, every art
contributes its contingent towards the ge
neral supply of mental pleasure. Whatever
abstracts the thoughts from sensual grati
fications, whatever teaches us to look for
happiness within ourselves, must advance
in some measure the dignity of our nature.
Perhaps there is no higher proof of the
excellency of man than this, — that to a mind
properly cultivated whatever is bounded is
little. The mind is continually labouring
to advance, step by step, through successive
gradations of excellence, towards perfection,
which is dimly seen, at a great though not
hopeless distance, and which we must
always follow because we never can attain ;
but the pursuit rewards itself; one truth
teaches another, and our store is always
increasing, though nature can never be

THE NINTH DISCOURSE. 1
exhausted. Our art, like all arts which
address the imagination, is applied to some
what a lower faculty of the mind, which
approaches nearer to sensuality ; but through
sense and fancy it must make its way to
reason ; for such is the progress of thought,
that we perceive by sense, we combine by
fancy, and distinguish by reason : and with
out carrying our art out of its natural and
true character, the more we purify it from
every thing that is gross in sense, in that
proportion we advance its use and dignity ;
and in proportion as we lower it to mere
sensuality, we pervert its nature, and degrade
it from the rank of a liberal art ; and this is
what every artist ought well to remember.
Let him remember also, that he deserves
just so much encouragement in the state as
he makes himself a member of it virtuously
useful, and contributes in his sphere to the
general purpose and perfection of society.
The Art which we profess has beauty for
its object ; this it is our business to discover
and to express ; the beauty of which we
are in quest is general and intellectual ; it
is an idea that subsists only in the mind ;
b 4

8 THE NINTH DISCOURSE.
the sight never beheld it, nor has the hand
expressed it : it is an idea residing in the
breast of the artist, which he is always
labouring to impart, and which he dies at
last without imparting ; but which he is yet
so far able to communicate, as to raise the
thoughts, and extend the views of the spec
tator.; and which, by a succession of art,
may be so far diffused, that its effects may
extend themselves imperceptibly into pub
lick benefits, and be among the means of
bestowing on whole nations refinement of
taste : which, if it does not lead directly to
purity of manners, obviates at least their
greatest depravation, by disentangling the
mind from appetite, and conducting the
thoughts through successive stages of excel
lence, till that contemplation of universal
rectitude and harmony which began by
Taste, may, as it is exalted and refined,
conclude in Virtue.

DISCOURSE X.
DELIVERED TO THE STUDENTS OF
THE ROYAL ACADEMY,
ON THE
DISTRIBUTION OF THE PRIZES,
DECEMBER 11. 178O.

DISCOURSE X.

SCULPTURE : — HAS BUT ONE STYLE.  ITS OBJECTS,
FORM, AND CHARACTER.  INEFFECTUAL ATTEMPTS OF
THE MODERN SCULPTORS TO IMPROVE THE ART. — ILL
EFFECTS OF MODERN DRESS IN SCULPTURE.
GENTLEMEN,
I shall now, as it has been customary on
this day, and on this occasion, communi
cate to you such observations as have
occurred to me on the Theory of Art.
If these observations have hitherto re
ferred principally to Painting, let it be
remembered that this Art is much more
extensive and complicated than Sculpture,
and affords therefore a more ample field
for criticism ; and as the greater includes
the less, the leading principles of Sculp
ture are comprised in those of Painting.
However, I wish now to make some
remarks with particular relation to Sculp-

12 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
ture ; to consider wherein, or in what man
ner, its principles and those of Painting
agree or differ; what is within its power
of performing, and what it is vain or im
proper to attempt ; that it may be clear
ly and distinctly known what ought to
be the great purpose of the Sculptor's
labours. Sculpture is an art of much more sim
plicity and uniformity than painting ; it
cannot with propriety, and the best effect, be
applied to many subjects. The object of its
pursuit may be comprised in two words,
Form and Character ; and those qualities
are presented to us but in one manner, or in
one style only ; whereas the powers of Paint
ing, as they are more various and extensive,
so they are exhibited in as great a variety
of manners. The Roman, Lombard, Flo
rentine, Venetian, and Flemish Schools, all
pursue the same end by different means.
But Sculpture having but one style, can
only to one style of Painting have any
relation ; and to this (which is indeed
the highest and most dignified that Paint
ing can boast), it has a relation so close,

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 13
that it may be said to be almost the same
art operating upon different materials. The
Sculptors of the last age, from not attend
ing sufficiently to this discrimination of the
different styles of Painting, have been led
into many errors. Though they well knew
that they were allowed to imitate, or take
ideas for the improvement of their own Art
from the grand style of Painting, they were
not aware that it was not permitted to bor
row in the same manner from the orna
mental. When they endeavour to copy the
picturesque effects, contrasts, or petty ex
cellencies of whatever kind, which not im
properly find a place in the inferior branches
of Painting, they doubtless imagine them
selves improving and extending the bound
aries of their art by this imitation ; but they
are in reality violating its essential character,
by giving a different direction to its oper
ations, and proposing to themselves either
what is unattainable, or at best a meaner
object of pursuit. The grave and austere
character of Sculpture requires the utmost
degree of formality in composition ; pic
turesque contrasts have here no place; every
thing is carefully weighed and measured,

14- THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
one side making almost an exact equipoise
to the other : a child is not a proper balance
to a full grown figure, nor is a figure sit
ting or stooping a companion to an upright
figure. The excellence of every art must consist
in the complete accomplishment of its pur
pose ; and if by a false imitation of nature,
or mean ambition of producing a picturesque
effect or illusion of any kind, all the gran
deur of ideas which this art endeavours to
excite, be degraded or destroyed, we may
boldly oppose ourselves to any such innova
tion. If the producing of a deception is
the summit of this art, let us at once give
to statues the addition of colour ; which
will contribute more towards accomplishing
this end, than all those artifices which have
been introduced and professedly defended,
on no other principle but that of rendering
the work more natural. But as colour is
universally rejected, every practice liable to
the same objection must fall with it. If the
business of Sculpture were to administer
pleasure to ignorance, or a mere entertain
ment to the senses, the Venus of Medicis

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 15
might certainly receive much improvement
by colour ; but the character of Sculpture
makes it her duty to afford delight of a dif
ferent, and, perhaps, of a higher kind ; the
delight resulting from the contemplation
of perfect beauty: and this, which is in
truth an intellectual pleasure, is in many
respects incompatible with what is merely
addressed to the senses, such as that with
which ignorance and levity contemplate
elegance of form.
The Sculptor may be safely allowed to
practise every means within the power of
his art to produce a deception, provided
this practice does not interfere with or
destroy higher excellencies ; on these con
ditions he will be forced, however loth, to
acknowledge that the boundaries of his art
have long been fixed, and that all endea
vours will be vain that hope to pass beyond
the best works which remain of ancient
Sculpture. Imitation is the means, and not the end,
of art; it is employed by the Sculptor as
the language by which his ideas are pre-

16 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
sented to the mind of the spectator. Poetry
and elocution of every sort make use of
signs, but those signs are arbitrary and con
ventional. The sculptor employs the re
presentation of the thing itself; but still as
a means to a higher end, — as a gradual-
ascent always advancing towards faultless
form and perfect beauty. It may be thought
at the first view, that even this form, how
ever perfectly represented, is to be valued
and take its rank only for the sake of a still
higher .object, that of conveying sentiment
and character, as they are exhibited by atti
tude, and expression of the passions. But
we are sure from experience, that the beauty
of form alone, without the assistance of any
other quality, makes of itself a great work,
and justly claims our esteem and admira
tion. As a proof of the high value we set
on the mere excellence of form, we may
produce the greatest part of the works of
Michael Angelo, both in painting and
sculpture ; as well as most of the antique
statues, which are justly esteemed in a very
high degree, though no very marked or
striking character or expression of any kind
is represented.

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 17
But, as a stronger instance that this
excellence alone inspires sentiment, what
artist ever looked at the Torso without feel
ing a warmth of enthusiasm, as from the
highest efforts of poetry ? From whence
does this proceed? What is there in this
fragment that produces this effect, but the
perfection of this science of abstract form ?
A mind elevated to the contemplation of
excellence, perceives in this defaced and
shattered fragment, disjecta membra poetce,
the traces of superlative genius, the reliques
of a work on which succeeding ages can
only gaze with inadequate admiration.
It may be said that this pleasure is re
served only to those who have spent their
whole life in the study and contemplation
of this art ; but the truth is, that all would
feel its effects, if they could divest them
selves of the expectation of deception, and
look only for what it really is, a partial re
presentation of nature. The only impedi
ment of their judgment must then proceed
from their being uncertain to what rank, or
vol. 11. c

18 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
rather kind of excellence, it aspires ; and
to what sort of approbation it has a right.
This state of darkness is, without doubt,
irksome to every mind; but by attention
to works of this kind the knowledge of what
is aimed at comes of itself, without being
taught, and almost without being perceived.
The Sculptor's art is limited in compari
son of others, but it has its variety and
intricacy within its proper bounds. Its
essence is correctness : and when to correct
and perfect form is added the ornament of
grace, dignity of character, and appro
priated expression, as in the Apollo, the
Venus, the Laocoon, the Moses of Michael
Angelo, and many others, this art may be
said to have accomplished its purpose.
What Grace is, how it is to be acquired
or conceived, are in speculation difficult
questions ; but causa latet, res est notissima :
without any perplexing inquiry, the effect
is hourly perceived. I shall only observe,
that its natural foundation is correctness of
design ; and though grace may be some-

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 19
times united with incorrectness, it cannot
proceed from it.
But to come nearer to our present sub
ject. It has been said that the grace of the
Apollo depends on a certain degree of
incorrectness ; that the head is not anatomi
cally placed between the shoulders ; and
that the lower half of the figure is longer
than just proportion allows.
I know that Corregio and Parmegiano
are often produced as authorities to sup
port this opinion ; but very little attention
will convince us, that the incorrectness of
some parts which we find in their works,
does not contribute to grace, but rather
tends to destroy it. The Madonna, with
the sleeping Infant, and beautiful group of
Angels, by ParmegianOj in the Palazzo
Piti, would not have lost any of its excel
lence, if the neck, fingers, and indeed the
whole figure of the Virgin, instead of being
so very long and incorrect, had preserved
their due proportion.
In opposition to the first of these remarks,
c 2

20 THE TENTH DISCOURSE-
I have the authority of a very able Sculp
tor of this Academy, who has copied that
figure, consequently measured and care
fully examined it, to declare, that the cri
ticism is not true. In regard to the last,
it must be remembered that Apollo is here
in the exertion of one of his peculiar
powers, which is swiftness ; he has there
fore that proportion which is best adapted
to that character. This is no more incor
rectness, than when there is given to an
Hercules an extraordinary swelling and
strength of muscles.
The art of discovering and expressing
grace is difficult enough of itself, without
perplexing ourselves with what is incom
prehensible. A supposition of such a mon
ster as Grace, begot by Deformity, is poison
to the mind of a young Artist, and may make
him neglect what is essential to his art, cor
rectness of Design, in order to pursue a
phantom, which has no existence but in
the imagination of affected and refined
speculators. I cannot quit the Apollo, without making

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 21
one observation on the character of this
figure. He is supposed to have just dis
charged his arrow at the Python ; and, by
the head retreating a little towards the right
shoulder, he appears attentive to its effect.
What I would remark is the difference of
this attention from that of the Discobolus,
who is engaged in the same purpose, watch
ing the effect of his Discus. The graceful,
negligent, though animated, air of the one,
and the vulgar eagerness of the other, fur
nish a signal instance of the judgment of
the ancient sculptors in their nice discri
mination of character. They are both
equally true to nature, and equally ad
mirable. It may be remarked, that Grace, Charac
ter, and Expression, though words of dif
ferent sense and meaning, and so understood
when applied to the works of Painters, are
indiscriminately used when we speak of
Sculpture. This indecision we may sus
pect to proceed from the undetermined
effects of the Art itself; those qualities are
exhibited in Sculpture rather by form and
attitude than by the features, and can
c 3

22 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
therefore be expressed but in a very general

manner.

Though the Laocoon and his two sons
have more expression in the countenance
than perhaps any other antique statues, yet
it is only the general expression of pain ;
and this passion is still more strongly ex
pressed by the writhing and contortion of
the body than by the features.
It has been observed in a late publica
tion, that if the attention of the Father
in this group had been occupied more by
the distress of his children, than by his
own sufferings, it would have raised a
much greater interest in the spectator.
Though this observation comes from a per
son whose opinion, in every thing relating
to the Arts, carries with it the highest au
thority, yet I cannot but suspect that such
refined expression is scarce within the pro
vince of this Art ; and in attempting it,
the Artist will run great risk of enfeebling
expression, and making it less intelligible
to the spectator.

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 23
As the general figure presents itself in a
more conspicuous manner than the features,
it is there we must principally look for ex
pression or character ; patuit in corpore vul-
tus ; and, in this respect, the Sculptor's art
is not unlike that of Dancing, where the
attention of the spectator is principally
engaged by the attitude and action of the
performer, and it is there he must look for
whatever expression that art is capable of
exhibiting. The Dancers themselves ac
knowledge this, by often wearing masks,
with little diminution in the expression.
The face bears so very inconsiderable a pro
portion to the effect of the whole figure, that
the ancient Sculptors neglected to animate
the features, even with the general expres
sion of the passions. Of this the group of
the Boxers is a remarkable instance ; they
are engaged in the most animated action
with the greatest serenity of countenance.
This is not recommended for imitation, (for
there can be no reason why the countenance
should not correspond with the attitude and
expression of the figure,) but is mentioned
in order to infer from hence, that this fre
quent deficiency in ancient Sculpture could
c 4

24 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
proceed from nothing but a habit of inat
tention to what was considered as compara
tively immaterial.
Those who think Sculpture can express
more than we have allowed, may ask, by
what means we discover, at the first glance,
the character that is represented in a Bust,
Cameo, or Intaglio ? I suspect it will be
found, on close examination, by him who
is resolved not to see more than he really
does see, that the figures are distinguished
by their insignia more than by any variety
of form or beauty. Take from Apollo his
Lyre, from Bacchus his Thirsus and Vine-
leaves, and Meleager the Boar's Head, and
there will remain little or no difference in
their characters. In a Juno, Minerva, or
Flora, the idea of the artist seems to have
gone no further than representing perfect
beauty, and afterwards adding the proper
attributes, with a total indifference to which
they gave them. Thus John de Bologna,
after he had finished a group of a young
man holding up a young woman in his
arms, with an old man at his feet, called
his friends together, to tell him what name
4

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 25
he should give it, and it was agreed to call
it The Rape of the Sabines * : and this is
the celebrated group which now stands be
fore the old Palace at Florence. The figures
have the same general expression which is
to be found in most of the antique Sculp
ture; and yet it would be no wonder if
future criticks should find out delicacy of
expression which was never intended ; and
go so far as to see, in the old man's coun
tenance, the exact relation which he bore
to the woman who appears to be taken from
him. Though Painting and Sculpture are, like
many other arts, governed by the same
general principles, yet in the detail, or what
may be called the by-laws of each art, there
seems to be no longer any connection be
tween them. The different materials upon
which those two arts exert their powers,
must infallibly create a proportional dif
ference in their practice. There are many
petty excellencies which the Painter attains
with ease, but which are impracticable in
Sculpture ; and which, even if it could ac-
* See 2/ Reposo di Raffaelle Borghini.

26 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
complish them, would add nothing to the
true value and dignity of the work.
Of the ineffectual attempts which the
modern Sculptors have made by way of im
provement, these seem to be the principal ;
The practice of detaching drapery from the
figure, in order to give the appearance of
flying in the air ; —
Of making different plans in the same
bas-relievos ; —
Of attempting to represent the effects of
perspective : —
To these we may add the ill effect of
figures cloathed in a modern dress.
The folly of attempting to make stone
sport and flutter in the air, is so apparent,
that it carries with it its own reprehension;
and yet to accomplish this, seemed to be
the great ambition of many modern Sculp
tors, particularly Bernini : his art was so
much set on overcoming this difficulty,
that he was for ever attempting it, though

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 27
by that attempt he risked every thing that
was valuable in the art.

Bernini stands in the first class of modern
Sculptors, and therefore it is the business
of criticism to prevent the ill effects of so
powerful an example.
From his very early work of Apollo and
Daphne, the world justly expected he
would rival the best productions of ancient
Greece ; but he soon strayed from the right
path. And though there is in his works
something which always distinguishes him
from the common herd, yet he appears in
his latter performances to have lost his way.
Instead of pursuing the study of that ideal
beauty with which he had so successfully
begun, he turned his mind to an injudicious
quest of novelty, attempted what was not
within the province of the art, and endea
voured to overcome the hardness and
obstinacy of his materials ; which even sup
posing he had accomplished, so far as to
make this species of drapery appear natural^
the ill effect and confusion occasioned by

28 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
its being detached from the figure to which
it belongs, ought to have been alone a suf
ficient reason to have deterred him from
that practice.
We have not, I think, in our Academy,
any of Bernini's works, except a cast of the
head of his Neptune * ; this will be suf
ficient to serve us for an example of the
mischief produced by this attempt of re
presenting the effects of the wind. The
locks of the hair are flying abroad in all
directions, insomuch that it is not a super
ficial view that can discover what the object
is which is represented, or distinguish those
flying locks from the features, as they are
all of the same colour, of equal solidity,
and consequently project with equal force.

The same entangled confusion which is
here occasioned by the hair, is produced by
* Some years after this Discourse was written, Ber
nini's Neptune was purchased for our author at, Rome,
and brought to England. After his death it was sold
by his Executors for 5001. to Charles Anderson Pelham,
Esq. now Lord Yarborough. M.

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 29
drapery flying off; which the eye must, for
the same reason, inevitably mingle and
confound with the principal parts of the
figure. It is a general rule, equally true in both
Arts, that the form and attitude of the figure
should be seen clearly, and without any am
biguity, at the first glance of the eye. This
the painter can easily do by colour, by los
ing parts in the ground, or keeping them so
obscure as to prevent them from interfering
with the more principal objects. The sculp
tor has no other means of preventing this
confusion than by attaching the drapery for
the greater part close to the figure; the
folds of which, following the order of the
limbs, whenever the drapery is seen, the
eye is led to trace the form and attitude of
the figure at the same time.
The drapery of the Apollo, though it
makes a large mass, and is separated from
the figure, does not affect the present ques
tion, from the very circumstance of its being
so completely separated ; and from the
regularity and simplicity of its form, it does

30 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
not in the least interfere with a distinct view
of the figure. In reality, it is no more a
part of- it than a pedestal, a trunk of a tree,
or an animal, which we often see joined to
statues. The principal use of those appendages is
to strengthen and preserve the statue from
accidents; and many are of opinion, that the
mantle which falls from the Apollo's arm is
for the same end ; but surely it answers a
much greater purpose, by preventing that
dryness of effect which would inevitably
attend a naked arm, extended almost at full
length, to which we may add, the disagree
able effect which would proceed from the
body and arm making a right angle.
The Apostles, in the church of St. John
Lateran, appear to me to fall under the cen
sure of an injudicious imitation of the man
ner of the painters. The drapery of those
figures, from being disposed in large masses,
gives undoubtedly that air of grandeur which
magnitude or quantity is sure to produce.
But though it should be acknowledged, that
it is managed with great skill and intelli-

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 31
gence, and contrived to appear as light as
the materials will allow, yet the weight and
solidity of stone was not to be overcome.
Those figures are much in the style of
Carlo Maratti, and such as we may imagine
he would have made, if he had attempted
Sculpture ; and when we know he had the
superintendance of that work, and was an
intimate friend of one of the principal Sculp
tors, we may suspect that his taste had some
influence, if he did not even give the designs.
No man can look at those figures without
recognizing the manner of Carlo Maratti.
They have the same defect which his works
so often have, of being overlaid with dra
pery, and that too artificially disposed. I
cannot but believe, that if Ruscono, Le
Gros,, Monot, and the rest of the Sculptors
employed in that work, had taken for their
guide the simple dress, such as we see in
the antique statues of the philosophers, it
would have given more real grandeur to
their figures, and would certainly have
been more suitable to the characters of the
Apostles.

32 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
Though there is no remedy for the ill
effect of those solid projections, which
flying drapery in stone must always pro
duce in statues, yet in bas-relievos it is
totally different ; those detached parts of
drapery the Sculptor has here as much
power over as the Painter, by uniting and
losing it in the ground, so that it shall
not in the least entangle and confuse the
figure. But here again the Sculptor, not content
with this successful imitation, if it may be
so called, proceeds to represent figures, or
groups of figures on different plans ; that
is some on the fore-ground, and some at a
greater distance, in the manner of Painters
in historical compositions. To do this he
has no other means than by making the
distant figures of less dimensions, and re
lieving them in a less degree from the sur
face ; but this is not adequate to the end ;
they will still appear only as figures on a
less scale, but equally near the eye with
those in the front of the piece.
Nor does the mischief of this attempt,

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 3S
which never accomplishes its intention, rest
here : by this division of the work into many
minute parts, the grandeur of its general
effect is inevitably destroyed.
Perhaps the only circumstance in which
the Modern have excelled the Ancient Sculp
tors, is the management of a single group in
basso-relievo ; the art of gradually raising
the group from the flat surface, till it imper
ceptibly emerges into alto-relievo. Of this
there is no ancient example remaining that
discovers any approach to the skill which Le
Gros has shown in an Altar in the Jesuits'
Church at Rome. Different plans or de
grees of relief in the same group have,
as we see in this instance, a good effect,
though the contrary happens when the
groups are separated, and are at some dis
tance behind each other.
This improvement in the art of composing
a group in basso-relievo was probably first
suggested by the practice of the modern
Painters, who relieve their figures, or groups
of figures, from their ground, by the same
VOL. II. i>

Si THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
gentle gradation ; and it is accomplished in
every respect by the same general princi
ples ; but as the marble has no colour, it is
the composition itself that must give it its
light and shadow. The ancient Sculptors
could not borrow this advantage from their
Painters, for this was an art with which they
appear to have been entirely unacquainted ;
and in the bas-relievos of Lorenzo Ghi
berti, the casts of which we have in the
Academy, this art is no more attempted
than it was by the Painters of his age.
The next imaginary improvement of the
moderns, is the representing the effects of
Perspective in bas-relief. Of this little
need be said ; all must recollect how inef
fectual has been the attempt of modern
Sculptors to turn the buildings which they
have introduced as seen from their angle,
with a view to make them appear to recede
from the eye in perspective. This, though
it may show indeed their eager desire to
encounter difficulties, shows at the same
time how inadequate their materials are
even to this their humble ambition.

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 3S
The Ancients, with great judgment,
represented only the elevation of whatever
architecture they introduced into their bas-
reliefs, which is composed of little more
than horizontal or perpendicular lines;
whereas the interruption of crossed lines, or
whatever causes a multiplicity of subordi
nate parts, destroys that regularity and
firmness of effect on which grandeur of
style so much depends.
We come now to the last consideration ;
in what manner Statues are to be dressed,
which are made in honour of men, either
now living, or lately departed.
This is a question which might employ
a long discourse of itself: I shall at present
only observe, that he who wishes not to
obstruct the Artist, and prevent his exhibit
ing his abilities to their greatest advantage*
will certainly not desire a modern dress.
The desire of transmitting to posterity
the shape of modern dress must be acknow
ledged to be purchased at a prodigious
d 2

36 THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
price, even the price of every thing that
is valuable in art.
Working in stone is a very serious bu
siness; and it seems to be scarce worth
while to employ such durable materials
in conveying to posterity a fashion of
which the longest existence scarce exceeds
a year. However agreeable it may be to the An
tiquary's principles of equity and gratitude,
that as he has received great pleasure from
the contemplation of the fashions of dress of
former ages, he wishes to give the same
satisfaction to future Antiquaries : yet, me-
thinks, pictures of an inferior style, or
prints, may be considered as quite sufficient,
without prostituting this great art to such
mean purposes.
In this town may be seen an Equestrian
Statue in a modern dress, which may be
sufficient to deter future artists from any
such attempt: even supposing no other ob
jection, the familiarity of the modern dress

THE TENTH DISCOURSE. 37
by no means agrees with the dignity and
gravity of Sculpture.
Sculpture is formal, regular, and austere ;
disdains all familiar objects, as incompatible
with its dignity ; and is an enemy to every
species of affectation, or appearance of aca
demical art. All contrast, therefore, of one
figure to another, or of the limbs of a single
figure, or even in the folds of the drapery,
must be sparingly employed. In short,
whatever partakes of fancy or caprice, or
goes under the denomination of Picturesque,
(however to be admired in its proper place,)
is incompatible with that sobriety and gra
vity which is peculiarly the characteristick
of this art.
There is no circumstance which more
distinguishes a well-regulated and sound
taste, than a settled uniformity of design,
where all the parts are compact, and fitted
to each other, every thing being of a piece.
This principle extends itself to all habits of
life, as well as to all works of art. Upon
this general ground therefore we may safely
d 3

3S THE TENTH DISCOURSE.
venture to pronounce, that the uniformity
and simplicity of the materials on which
the Sculptor labours, (which are only white
marble,) prescribes bounds to his art, and
teaches him to confine himself to a propor
tionable simplicity of design.

DISCOURSE XI.

DELIVERED TO THE STUDENTS QF

THE ROYAL ACADEMY,

DISTRIBUTION OF THE PRIZES,
DECEMBER 10. 1782.

D 4

DISCOURSE XI.

GENIUS. — CONSISTS PRINCIPALLY IN THE COMPREHEN
SION OF A WHOLE ; IN TAKING GENERAL IDEAS ONLY.
GENTLEMEN,
The highest ambition of every Artist is to
be thought a man of Genius. As long as
this flattering quality is joined to his name,
he can bear with patience the imputation
of carelessness, incorrectness, or defects of
whatever kind.
So far indeed is the presence of Genius
from implying an absence of faults, that
they are considered by many as its inse
parable companions. Some go such lengths
as to take indication from them, and not
only excuse faults on account of Genius,
but presume Genius from the existence of
certain faults.
It is certainly true, that a work may justly

42 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
claim the character of Genius, though full
of errors ; and it is equally true, that it
may be faultless, and yet not exhibit the
least spark of Genius. This naturally sug
gests an inquiry, a desire at least of inquir
ing, what qualities of a work and of a
workman may justly entitle a Painter to that
character. I have in a former discourse* endeavoured
to impress you with a fixed opinion, that a
comprehensive and critical knowledge of the
works of nature is the only source of beauty
and grandeur. But when we speak to
Painters, we must always consider this rule,
and all rules, with a reference to the mecha
nical practice of their own particular Art. It
is not properly in the learning, the taste, and
the dignity of the ideas, that Genius appears
as belonging to a Painter. There is a Genius
particular and appropriated to his own trade,
(as I may call it,) distinguished from all
others. For that power, which enables the
Artist to conceive his subject with dignity,
may be said to belong to general education ;
* Discourse III.

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 43
and is as much the Genius of a Poet, or the
professor of any other liberal A.rt, or even a
good critick in any of those arts, as of a
Painter. Whatever sublime ideas may fill
his mind, he is a Painter only as he can put
in practice what he knows, and communi
cate those ideas by visible representation.
If my expression can convey my idea, I
wish to distinguish excellence of this kind
by calling it the Genius of mechanical per
formance. This Genius consists, I conceive,
in the power of expressing that which em
ploys your pencil, whatever it may be, as a
whole ; so that the general effect and power
of the whole may take possession of the
mind, and for a while suspend the consi
deration of the subordinate and particular
beauties or defects.
The advantage of this method of consi
dering objects, is what I wish now more
particularly to enforce. At the same time I
do not forget, that a Painter must have the
power of contracting as well as dilating his
sight ; because, he that does not at all
express particulars, expresses nothing ; yet
12

44 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
it is certain, that a nice discrimination of
minute circumstances, and a punctilious
delineation of them, whatever excellence it
may have, (and I do not mean to detract
from it,) never did confer on the Artist the
character of Genius.
Beside those minute differences in things
which are frequently not observed at all, and
when they are, make little impression, there
are in all considerable objects great charac-
teristick distinctions, which press strongly
on the senses, and therefore fix the ima
gination. These are by no means, as
some persons think, an aggregate of all the
small discriminating particulars : nor will
such an accumulation of particulars ever
express them. These answer to what I
have heard great lawyers call the leading
points in a case, or the leading cases rela
tive to those points.
The detail of particulars, which does not
assist the expression of the main character
istic^ is worse than useless, it is mischievous,
as it dissipates the attention, and draws it
from the principal point. It may be remarked,

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 45
that the impression which is left on our
mind even of things which are familiar to
us, is seldom more than their general effect;
beyond which we do not look in recognising
such objects. To express this in Painting,
is to express what is congenial and natural
to the mind of man, and what gives him
by reflection his own mode of conceiving.
The other pre-supposes nicety and research,
which are only the business of the curious
and attentive, and therefore does not speak
to the general sense of the whole species ;
in which common, and, as I may so call it,
mother tongue, every thing grand and com
prehensive must be uttered.
I do not mean to prescribe what degree
of attention ought to be paid to the minute
parts ; this it is hard to settle. We are sure
that it is expressing the general effect of
the whole, which alone can give to objects
their true and touching character ; and
wherever this is observed, whatever else
may be neglected, we acknowledge the hand
of a Master. We may even go further, and
observe, that when the general effect only
is presented to us by a skilful hand, it ap-

46 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
pears to express the object represented in
a more lively manner than the minutest
resemblance would do.
These observations may lead to very deep
questions, which I do not mean here to
discuss ; among others, it may lead to an
inquiry, Why we are not always pleased
with the most absolute possible resemblance
of an imitation to its original object. Cases
may exist in which such a resemblance may
be even disagreeable. I shall only observe
that the effect of figures in Wax- work,
though certainly a more exact represent
ation than can be given by Painting or Sculp
ture, is a sufficient proof that the pleasure
we receive from imitation is not increased
merely in proportion as it approaches to
minute and detailed reality; we are pleased,
on the contrary, by seeing ends accom
plished by seemingly inadequate means.
To express protuberance by actual relief,
to express the softness of flesh by the soft
ness of wax, seems rude and inartificial,
and creates no grateful surprise. But to
express distances on a plain surface, soft-

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 47
ness by hard bodies, and particular colour
ing by materials which are not singly of
that colour, produces that magic which is
the prize and triumph of art.
Carry this principle a step further. Sup
pose the effect of imitation to be fully com
passed by means still more inadequate; let
the power of a few well-chosen strokes,
which supersede labour by judgment and
direction, produce a complete impression
of all that the mind demands in an object ;
we are charmed with such an unexpected
happiness of execution, and begin to be
tired with the superfluous diligence, which
in vain solicits an appetite already satiated.
The properties of all objects, as far as a
Painter is concerned with them, are, the
outline or drawing, the colour, and the
light and shade. The drawing gives the
form, the colour its visible quality, and the
light and shade its solidity.
Excellence in any one of these parts of
art will never be acquired by an artist, un-

48 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
less he has the habit of looking upon ob
jects at large, and observing the effect
which they have on the eye when it is di
lated, and employed upon the whole, with
out seeing any one of; the parts distinctly.
It is by this that we obtain the ruling cha-
racteristick, and that we learn to imitate it
by short and dextrous methods. I do not
mean by dexterity a trick or mechanical
habit, formed by guess, and established by
custom ; but that science, which, by a pro
found knowledge of ends and means, dis
covers the shortest and surest way to its
own purpose.
If we examine with a critical view the
manner of those painters whom we consider
as patterns, we shall find that their great
fame does not proceed from their works
being more highly finished than those of
other artists, or from a more minute atten
tion to details, but from that enlarged com
prehension which sees the whole object at
once, and that energy of art which gives
its characteristick effect by adequate ex
pression.

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 49
Raffaelle and Titian are two names which
stand the highest in our art ; one for Draw
ing, the other for Painting. The most con
siderable and the most esteemed works of
Raffaelle are the Cartoons, and his Fresco
works in the Vatican ; those, as we all
know, are far from being minutely finished :
his principal care and attention seems to
have been fixed upon the adjustment of the
whole, whether it was the general composi
tion, or the composition of each individual
figure ; for every figure may be said to be a
lesser whole, though in regard to the gene
ral work to which it belongs, it is but a
part ; the same may be said' of the head, of
the hands, and feet. Though he possessed
this art of seeing and comprehending the
whole, as far as form is concerned, he did
not exert the same faculty in regard to the
general effect, which is presented to the eye
by colour, and light and shade. Of this the
deficiency of his oil pictures, where this
excellence is more expected than in Fresco,
is a sufficient proof.
It is to Titian we must turn our eyes to
find excellence with regard to colour, and
VOL. II. E

50 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
- light and shade, in the highest degree. He
was both the first and the greatest master
of this art. By a few strokes he knew how
to mark the general image and character of
whatever object he attempted ; and pro
duced, by this alone, a truer representation
than his master Giovanni Bellino, or any
of his predecessors, who finished every
hair. His great care was to express the
general colour, to preserve the masses of
light and shade, and to give by opposition
the idea of that solidity which is insepara
ble from natural objects. When those are
preserved, though the work should pos
sess no other merit, it will have in a proper
place its complete effect; but where any
of these are wanting, however minutely
laboured the picture may be in the detail,
the whole will have a false and even an
unfinished appearance, at whatever dis
tance, or in whatever light, it can be
shown. It is vain to attend to the variation of
tints, if, in that attention, the general hue
of flesh is lost; or to finish ever so mi
nutely the parts, if the masses are not

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 51
observed, or the whole not well put to
gether. Vasari seems to have had no great dis-
position to favour the Venetian Painters,
yet he every where justly commends il
modo di fare, la maniera, la bella pratica ;
that is, the admirable manner and prac
tice of that school. On Titian, in parti
cular, he bestows the epithets of giudicioso,
hello, e stupendo.
This manner was then new to the world,
but that unshaken truth on which it is
founded, has fixed it as a model to all suc
ceeding Painters : and those who will ex
amine into the artifice, will find it to con
sist in the power of generalising, and in
the shortness and simplicity of the means
employed. Many artists, as Vasari likewise observes,
have ignorantly imagined they are imitat
ing the manner of Titian, when they leave
their colours rough, and neglect the detail;
but, not possessing.the principles on which
he wrought, they have produced what he
e 2

52 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
calls goffe pitture, absurd foolish pictures ;
for such will always be the consequence
of affecting dexterity without science, with
out selection, and without fixed princi
ples. Raffaelle and Titian seem to have looked
at nature for different purposes ; they both
had the power of extending their view to
the whole ; but one looked only for the ge
neral effect as produced by form, the other
as produced by colour.
We cannot entirely refuse to Titian the
merit of attending to the general form of his
object, as well as colour ; but his deficiency
lay, a deficiency at least when he is com
pared with Raffaelle, in not possessing the
power like him, of correcting the form of
his model by any general idea of beauty in
his own mind. Of this his St. Sebastian is
a particular instance. This figure appears to
be a most exact representation both of the
form and the colour of the model, which he
then happened to have before him ; it has
all the force of nature, and the colouring is
flesh itself; but, unluckily, the model was
of a bad form, especially the legs. Titian

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 53
has with as much care preserved these de
fects, as he has imitated the beauty and
brilliancy of the colouring. In his colouring
he was large and general, as in his design
he was minute and partial : in the one he
was a Genius, in the other not much above
a copier. I do not, however, speak now of
all his pictures : instances enough may be
produced in his works, where those obser
vations on his defects could not with any
propriety be applied : but it is in the man
ner or language, as it may be called, in
which Titian and others of that school ex
press themselves, that their chief excellence
lies. This manner is in reality, in paint
ing, what language is in poetry ; we are all
sensible how differently the imagination is
affected by the same sentiment expressed in
different words, and how mean or how
grand the same object appears when pre
sented to us by different Painters. Whether
it is the human figure, an animal, or even
inanimate objects, there is nothing, however
unpromising in appearance, but may be
raised into dignity, convey sentiment, and
produce emotion, in the hands of a Painter
of genius. What was said of Virgil, that
e 3

54 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
he threw even the dung about the ground
with an air of dignity, may be applied to
Titian : whatever he touched, however na
turally mean, and habitually familiar, by a
kind of magick he invested with grandeur
and importance.
I must here observe, that I am not recom
mending a neglect of the detail ; indeed it
would be difficult, if not impossible, to pre^-
scribe certain bounds, and tell how far, or
when it is to be observed or neglected ;
much must, at last, be left to the taste and
judgment of the artist. I am well aware
that a judicious detail will sometimes give
the force of truth to the work, and conse
quently interest the spectator. I only wish
to impress on your minds the true distinc
tion between essential and subordinate
powers ; and to show what qualities in the
art claim your chief attention, and what
may, with the least injury to your reputa
tion, be neglected. Something, perhaps,
always must be neglected ; the lesser ought
then to give way to the greater ; and since
every work can have but a limited time
allotted to it, (for even supposing a whole

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 55
life to be employed about one picture, it is
still limited,) it appears more reasonable to
employ that time to the best advantage, in
contriving various methods of composing
the work, — in trying different effect of
light and shadow, — and employing the
labour of correction in heightening by a
judicious adjustment of the parts the effects
of the whole, — than that the time should be
taken up in minutely finishing those parts.
But there is another kind of high finish
ing, which may safely be condemned, as it
seems to counteract its own purpose ; that
is, when the artist, to avoid that hardness
which proceeds from the , outline cutting
against the ground, softens and blends the
colours to excess : this is what the ignorant
call high finishing, but which tends to de
stroy the brilliancy of colour, and the true
effect of representation ; which consists
very much in preserving the same propor
tion of sharpness and bluntness that is
found in natural objects. This extreme
softening, instead of producing the effect
of softness, gives the appearance of ivory,
e 4

56 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
or some other hard substance, highly
polished. The portraits of Cornelius Jansen appear
to have this defect, and consequently want
that suppleness which is the characteristick
of flesh ; whereas, in the works of Vandyck
we find that true mixture of softness and
hardness perfectly observed. The same de
fect may be found in the manner of Van-
derwerf, in opposition to that of Teniers ;
and such also, we may add, is the manner
of Raffaelle in his oil pictures, in com
parison with that of Titian.
The name which Raffaelle has so justly
maintained as the first of Painters, we may
venture to say was not acquired by this
laborious attention. His apology may be
made by saying that it was the manner of
his country ; but if he had expressed his
ideas with the facility and eloquence, as it
may be called, of Titian, his works would
certainly not have been less excellent ; and
that praise, which ages and nations have
poured out upon him, for possessing Genius

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 57
in the higher attainments of art, would
have been extended to them all.
Those who are not conversant in works of
art, are often surprised at the high value
set by connoisseurs on drawings which
appear careless, and in every respect un
finished ; but they are truly valuable ; and
their value arises from this, that they give
the idea of an whole ; and this whole is
often expressed by a dexterous facility
which indicates the true power of a Painter,
even though roughly exerted : whether it
consists in the general composition, or the
general form of each figure, or the turn of
the attitude which bestows grace and ele
gance. All this we may see fully exempli
fied in the very skilful drawings of Parme-
giano and Correggio. On whatever ac
count we value these drawings, it is cer
tainly not for high finishing, or a minute
attention to particulars.
Excellence in every part, and in every
province of our art, from the highest style
of history down to the resemblances of still-
life, will depend on this power of extending
IO

58 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
the attention at once to the whole, without
which the greatest diligence is vain.
I wish you to bear in mind, that when I
speak of an whole, I do not mean simply
an whole as belonging to composition, but
an whole with respect to the general style
of colouring ; an whole with regard to the
light and shade ; an whole of every thing
which may separately become the main
object of a Painter.
I remember a Landscape-painter inRome,
who was known by the name of Studio
from his patience in high finishing, in
which he thought the whole excellence
of art consisted ; so that he once endea
voured, as he said, to represent every in
dividual leaf on a tree. This picture I
never saw ; but I am very sure that an
artist, who looked only at the general cha
racter of the species, the order of the
branches, and the masses of the foliage,
would in a few minutes produce a more
true resemblance of trees, than this Painter
in as many months.

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 59
A Landscape-painter certainly ought to
study anatomically (if I may use the ex
pression) all the objects which he paints ;
but when he is to turn his studies to use,
his skill, as a man of genius, will be dis
played in showing the general effect, pre
serving the same degree of hardness and
softness which the objects have in nature ;
for he applies himself to the imagination,
not to the curiosity, and works not for the
Virtuoso or the Naturalist, but for the
common observer of life and nature. When
he knows his subject, he will know not
only what to describe, but what to omit :
and this skill in leaving out, is, in all
things, a great part of knowledge and
wisdom. The same excellence of manner which
Titian displayed in History or Portrait-
painting, is equally conspicuous in his Land
scapes, whether they are professedly such, or
serve only as back-grounds. One of the most
eminent of this latter kind is to be found in
the picture of St. Pietro Martire. The large
trees, which are here introduced, are plainly
distinguished from each other by the differ-

60 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
ent manner with which the branches shoot
from their trunks, as well as by their differ
ent foliage; and the weeds in the fore
ground are varied in the same manner, just
as much as variety requires, and no more.
When Algarotti, speaking of this picture,
praises it for the minute discriminations
of the leaves and plants, even, as he says,
to excite the admiration of a Botanist,
his intention was undoubtedly to give
praise even at the expence of truth ; for
he must have known, that this is not the
character of the picture ; but connoisseurs
will always find in pictures what they think
they ought to find : he was not aware that
he was giving a description injurious to the
reputation of Titian.
Such accounts may be very hurtful to
young artists, who never have had an oppor
tunity of seeing the work described ; and
they may possibly conclude, that this great
Artist acquired the name of the Divine
Titian from his eminent attention to such
trifling circumstances, which in reality
would not raise him above the level of
the most ordinary Painter.

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 61
We may extend these observations even
to what seems to have but a single, and that
an individual object. The excellence of
Portrait-painting, and we may add, even
the likeness, the character, and counte
nance, as I have observed in another place,
depend more upon the general effect pro
duced by the Painter, than on the exact
expression of the peculiarities, or minute
discrimination of the parts. The chief at
tention of the artist is therefore employed in
planting the features in their proper places,
which so much contributes to giving the
effect and true impression of the whole.
The very peculiarities may be reduced to
classes and general descriptions ; and there
are therefore large ideas to be found even
in this contracted subject. He may after
wards labour single features to what de
gree he thinks proper, but let him not
forget continually to examine, whether in
finishing the parts he is not destroying the
general effect.
It is certainly a thing to be wished, that all
excellence were applied to illustrate subjects
that are interesting and worthy of being

62 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE,
commemorated ; whereas, of half the pic
tures that are in the world, the subject can
be valued only as an occasion which set the
artist to work : and yet, our high estima
tion of such pictures, without considering
or perhaps without knowing the subject,
shows how much our attention is engaged
by the art alone.
Perhaps nothing that we can say will so
clearly show the advantage and excellence
of this faculty, as that it confers the cha
racter of Genius on works that pretend
to no other merit; in which is neither
expression, character, or dignity, and where
none are interested in the subject. We
cannot refuse the character of Genius to
the marriage of Paolo Veronese, without
opposing the general sense of mankind,
(great authorities have called it the
triumph of Painting,) or to the altar of
St. Augustine at Antwerp, by Rubens,
which equally deserves that title, and for
the same reason. Neither of those pic
tures have any interesting story to support
them. That of Paolo Veronese is only a
representation of a great concourse of people

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 63
at a dinner ; and the subject of Rubens,
if it may be called a subject where no
thing is doing, is an assembly of various
Saints that lived in different ages. The
whole excellence of those pictures con
sists in mechanical dexterity, working
however under the influence of that com
prehensive faculty which I have so often
mentioned. It is by this, and this alone, that the
mechanical power is ennobled, and raised
much above its natural rank. And it ap
pears to me, that with propriety it acquires
this character, as an instance of that supe
riority with which mind predominates over
matter, by contracting into one whole what
nature has made multifarious.
The great advantage of this idea of a
whole is, that a greater quantity of truth may
be said to be contained and expressed in a
few lines or touches, than in the most labo
rious finishing of the parts where this is not
regarded. It is upon this foundation that
it stands ; and the justness of the observa
tion would be confirmed by the ignorant in

64 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
art, if it were possible to take their opinions
unseduced by some false notion of what
they imagine they ought to see in a Picture.
As it is an art, they think they ought to be
pleased in proportion as they see that art
ostentatiously displayed ; they will, from
this supposition, prefer neatness, high-
finishing, and gaudy colouring, to the truth,
simplicity, and unity of nature. Perhaps,
too, the totally ignorant beholder, like the
ignorant artist, cannot comprehend an
whole, nor even what it means. But if false
notions do not anticipate their perceptions,
they who are capable of observation, and
who, pretending to no skill, look only
straight forward, will praise and condemn
in proportion as the Painter has succeeded
in the effect of the whole. Here, general,
satisfaction, or general dislike, though per
haps despised by the Painter, as proceeding
from the ignorance of the principles of art,
may yet help to regulate his conduct, and
bring back his attention to that which ought
to be his principal object, and from which
he has deviated for the sake of minuter
beauties.

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 65
An instance of this right judgment I
once saw in a child, in going, through a
gallery where there were many portraits of
the last ages, which, though neatly put out
of hand, were very ill put together. The
child paid no attention to the neat finishing
or naturalness of any bit of drapery, but
appeared to observe only the ungraceful ness
of the persons represented, and put herself
in the posture of every figure which she
saw in a forced and awkward attitude. The
censure of nature, uninformed, fastened
upon the greatest fault that could be in a
picture, because it related to the character
and management of the whole.
I should be sorry, if what has been said
should be understood to have any tendency
to encourage that carelessness which leaves
work in an unfinished state. I commend
nothing for the want of exactness ; I mean
to point out that kind of exactness which is
the best, and which is alone truly to be so
esteemed. So far is my disquisition from giving
countenance to idleness, that there is no-
vol. ii. r

66 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
thing in our art which enforces such con
tinual exertion and circumspection, as an
attention to the general effect of the whole.
It requires much study and much practice ;
it requires the Painter's entire mind; where
as the parts may be finishing by nice touches,
while his mind is engaged on other mat
ters ; he may even hear a play or a novel
read without much disturbance. The artist
who flatters his own indolence, will con
tinually find himself evading this active
exertion, and applying his thoughts to the
ease and laziness of highly finishing the
parts ; producing at last what Cowley calls
" laborious effects of idleness."
No work can be too much finished, pro
vided the diligence employed be directed
to its proper object ; but I have observed
that an excessive labour in the detail has,
nine times in ten, been pernicious to the
general effect, even when it has been the
labour of great masters. It indicates a bad
choice, which is an ill setting out in any
undertaking. To give a right direction to your industry

THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE. 67
has been my principal purpose in this dis
course. It is this, which I am confident
often makes the difference between two
Students of equal capacities, and of equal
industry. While the one is employing his
labour on minute objects of little conse
quence, the other is acquiring the art, and
perfecting the habit, of seeing nature in an
extensive view, in its proper proportions,
and its due subordination of parts.
Before I conclude, I must make one
observation sufficiently connected with the
present subject.
The same extension of mind which gives
the excellence of Genius to the theory and
mechanical practice of the art, will . direct
him likewise in the method of study, and
give him the superiority over those who
narrowly follow a more confined track of
partial imitation. Whoever, in order to
finish his education, should travel to Italy,
and spend his whole time there only in
copying pictures, and measuring statues or
buildings, (though these things are not to
be neglected,) would return with little im-
f 2

68 THE ELEVENTH DISCOURSE.
provement. He that imitates the Iliad,
says Dr. Young, is not imitating Homer.
It is not by laying up in the memory the
particular details of any of the great works
of art, that any man becomes a great artist,
if he stops without making himself master
of the general principles on which these
works are conducted. If he even hopes to
rival those whom he admires, he must con
sider their works as the means of teaching
him the true art of seeing nature. When
this is acquired, he then may be said to
have appropriated their powers, or at least
the foundation of their powers, to himself;
the rest must depend upon his own indus
try and application. The great business of
study is, to form a mind, adapted and ade
quate to all times and all occasions; to
which all nature is then laid open, and
which may be said to possess the key of
her inexhaustible riches.

DISCOURSE XII.

DELIVERED TO THE STUDENTS OF

THE ROYAL ACADEMY,

DISTRIBUTION OF THE PRIZES,
DECEMBER io. 17s*.

F $

DISCOURSE XII.

PARTICULAR METHODS OF STUDY OF LITTLE CONSE
QUENCE.  LITTLE OF THE ART CAN BE TAUGHT. 
LOVE OF METHOD OFTEN A LOVE OF IDLENESS. 
PITTORI IMPROVVISATORI APT TO BE CARELESS AND
INCORRECT; SELDOM ORIGINAL AND STRIKING. 
THIS PROCEEDS FROM THEIR NOT STUDYING THE
WORKS OF OTHER MASTERS.
GENTLEMEN,
In consequence of the situation in which I
have the honour to be placed in this Aca
demy, it has often happened, that I have
been consulted by the young Students who
intend to spend some years in Italy, con
cerning the method of regulating their stu
dies. I am, as I ought to be, solicitously
desirous to communicate the entire result
of my experience and observation ; and
though my openness and facility in giving
my opinions might make some amends for
whatever was defective in them, yet I fear
my answers have not often given satisfac-
f 4

72 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
tion. Indeed I have never been sure, that
I understood perfectly what they meant, and
was not without some suspicion that they
had not themselves very distinct ideas of
the object of their inquiry.
If the information required was, by what
means the path that leads to excellence
could be discovered ; if they wished to
know whom they were to take for their
guides ; what to adhere to, and what to
avoid ; where they were to bait, and where
they were to take up their rest ; what was
to be tasted only, and what should be their
diet ; such general directions are certainly
proper for a Student to ask, and for me, to
the best of my capacity, to give ; but these
rules have been already given : they have,
in reality, been the subject of almost all my
Discourses from this place. But I am rather
inclined to think, that by method of study, it
was meant, (as several do mean,) that the
times and the seasons should be prescribed,
and the order settled, in which every thing
was to be done : that it might be useful to
point out to what degree of excellence one
part of the Art was to be carried, before

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 73
the Student proceeded to the next ; how
long he was to continue to draw from the
ancient statues, when to begin to compose,
and when to apply to the study of co
louring. Such a detail of instruction might be
extended with a great deal of plausible and
ostentatious amplification. But it would at
best be useless. Our studies will be for ever,
in a very great degree, under the direction of
chance ; like travellers, we must take what
we can get, and when we can get it; whether
it is or is not administered to us in the most
commodious manner, in the most proper
place, or at the exact minute when we would
wish to have it.
-Treatises on education, and method of
study, have always appeared to me to have
one general fault. They proceed upon a false
supposition of life ; as if we possessed not
only a power over events and circumstances,
but had a greater power over ourselves than
I believe any of us will be found to possess.
Instead of supposing ourselves to be perfect
patterns of wisdom and virtue, it seems to

74 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
me more reasonable to treat ourselves (as
I am sure we ' must now and then treat
others) like humoursome children, whose
fancies are often to be indulged, in order
to keep them in good humour with them
selves and their pursuits. It is necessary
to use some artifice of this kind in all
processes which by their very nature are
long, tedious, and complex, in order to
prevent our taking that aversion to our
studies, which the continual shackles of
methodical restraint are sure to pro
duce. I would rather wish a student, as soon
as he goes abroad, to employ himself
upon whatever he has been incited to by
any immediate impulse, than to go slug
gishly about a prescribed task, whatever
he does in such a state of mind, little ad
vantage accrues from it, as nothing sinks
deep enough to leave any lasting impres
sion ; and it is impossible that any thing
should be well understood, or well done,
that is taken into a reluctant understand
ing, and executed with a servile hand.

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 75
It is desirable, and indeed is necessary
to intellectual health, that the mind should
be recreated and refreshed with a variety
in our studies ; that in the irksomeness of
uniform pursuit we should be relieved, and,
if I may so say, deceived, as much as
possible. Besides, the minds of men are
so very differently constituted, that it is
impossible to find one method which shall
be suitable to all. It is of no use to pre
scribe to those who have no talents ; and
those who have talents will find methods
for themselves — methods dictated to them
by their own particular dispositions, and
by the experience of their own particular
necessities. However, I would not be understood to
extend this doctrine to the younger stu
dents. The first part of the life of a stu
dent, like that of other school-boys, must
necessarily be a life of restraint. The
grammar, the rudiments, however unpa
latable, must at all events be mastered.
After a habit is acquired of drawing cor
rectly from the model (whatever it may
be) which he has before him, the rest, I

76 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
think, may be safely left to chance; al
ways supposing that the student is em
ployed, and that his studies are directed
to the proper object.
A passion for his art, and an eager de
sire to excel, will more than supply the
place of method. By leaving a student
to himself, he may possibly indeed be led
to undertake matters above his strength:
but the trial will at least have this advan
tage, it will discover to himself his own
deficiencies ; and this discovery alone, is a
very considerable acquisition. One incon
venience, I acknowledge, may attend bold
and arduous attempts ; frequent failure
may discourage. This evil, however, is
not more pernicious than the slow pro
ficiency which is the natural consequence
of too easy tasks.
Whatever advantages method may have
in dispatch of business, (and there it cer
tainly has many,) I have but little confidence
of its efficacy in acquiring excellence in
any art whatever. Indeed, I have always
strongly suspected, that this love of method,

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 77
on which some persons appear to place so
great dependence, is, in reality, at the bot
tom, a love of idleness, a want of sufficient
energy to put themselves into immediate
action : it is a sort of an apology to them
selves for doing nothing. I have known
artists who may truly be said to have spent
their whole lives, or at least the most pre
cious part of their lives, in planning me
thods of study, without ever beginning ;
resolving, however, to put it all in practice
at some time or other, — when a certain
period arrives, — when proper conveniences
are procured, — or when they remove to a
certain place better calculated for study.
It is not uncommon for such persons to go
abroad with the most honest and sincere
resolution of studying hard, when they
shall arrive at the end of their journey.
The same want of exertion, arising from
the same cause which made them at home
put off the day of labour until they had
found a proper scheme for it, still con
tinues in Italy, and they consequently
return home with little, if any, im
provement.

78 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
In the practice of art, as well as in
morals, it is necessary to keep a watchful
and jealous eye over ourselves ; idleness,
assuming the specious disguise of indus
try, will lull to sleep all suspicion of our
want of an active exertion of strength.
A provision of endless apparatus, a bustle
of infinite inquiry and research, or even
the mere mechanical labour of copy
ing, may be employed, to evade and
shuffle off real labour, — the real labour of
thinking. I have declined for these reasons to point
out any particular method and course of
study to young Artists on their arrival in
Italy. I have left it to their own prudence,
a prudence which will grow and improve
upon them in the course of unremitted,
ardent industry, directed by a real love
of their profession, and an unfeigned ad
miration of those who have been univer
sally admitted as patterns of excellence in
the art.
In the exercise of that general prudence, I
shall here submit to their consideration such

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 79
miscellaneous observations as have occurred
to me on considering the mistaken notions
or evil habits, which have prevented that
progress towards excellence, which the
natural abilities of several Artists might
otherwise have enabled them to make.
False opinions and vicious habits have
done far more mischief to students, and to
Professors too, than any wrong methods of
study. Under the influence of sloth, or of some
mistaken notion, is that disposition which
always wants to lean on other men. Such
Students are always talking of the prodigious
progress they should make, if they could but
have the advantage of being taught by some
particular eminent Master. To him they
would wish to transfer that care, which they
ought and must take of themselves. Such
are to be told, that after the rudiments are
past, very little of our Art can be taught by
others. The most skilful Master can do
little more than put the end of the clue into
the hands of his Scholar, by which he must
conduct himself.

SO THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
It is true, the beauties and defects of the
works of our predecessors may be pointed
out ; the principles on which their works
are conducted may be explained ; the great
examples of Ancient Art may be spread out
before them ; but the most sumptuous en
tertainment is prepared in vain, if the
guests will not take the trouble of helping
themselves. Even the Academy itself, where every
convenience for study is procured, and laid
before them, may, from that very circum
stance, from leaving no difficulties to be
encountered in the pursuit, cause a re
mission of their industry. It is not uncom
mon to see young artists, whilst they are
struggling with every obstacle in their
way, exert themselves with such success
as to outstrip competitors possessed of*
every means of improvement. The pro
mising expectation which was formed, on
so much being done with so little means,
has recommended them to a Patron, who
has supplied them with every convenience
of study ; from that time their industry and
eagerness of pursuit has forsaken them;

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 81
they stand still, and see others rush on
before them.

Such men are like certain animals, who
will feed only when there is but little pro
vender, and that got at with difficulty
through the bars of a rack, but refuse to
touch it when there is an abundance before
them. Perhaps, such a falling off may proceed
from the faculties being overpowered by the
immensity of the materials ; as the traveller
despairs ever to arrive at the end of his
journey, when the whole extent of the
road which he is to pass is at once dis
played to his view.
Among the first moral qualities, there
fore, which a Student ought to cultivate,
is a just and manly confidence in himself,
or rather in the effects of that persevering
industry which he is resolved to possess.
When Raffaelle, by means of his con
nection with Bramante, the Pope's Archi
tect, was fixed upon to adorn the Vatican
VOL. II. G

82 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
with his works, he had done nothing that
marked in ' him any great superiority over
his contemporaries; though he was then
but young, he had under his direction the
most considerable Artists of his age ; and
we know what kind of men those were : a
lesser mind would have sunk under such a
weight ; and if we should judge from the
meek and gentle disposition which we are
told was the character of Raffaelle, we
might expect this would have happened to
him ; but his strength appeared to increase
in proportion as exertion was required ; and
it is not improbable that we are indebted
to the good fortune which first placed him
in that conspicuous situation, for those
great examples of excellence which he has
left us.
The observations to which I formerly
wished, and now desire, to point your
attention, relate not to errors which are
committed by those who have no claim
to merit, but to those inadvertencies into
which men of parts only can fall by the
over-rating or the abuse of some real,
though perhaps subordinate, excellence.

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 83
The errors last alluded to are those of back
ward, timid characters ; what I shall now .
speak of, belong to another class ; to those "
Artists who are distinguished for the readi
ness and facility of their invention. It, is
undoubtedly a splendid and desirable ac
complishment to be able to design instan
taneously any given subject. It is an ex
cellence that I believe every Artist would
wish to possess ; but unluckily, the man
ner in which this dexterity is acquired,
habituates the mind to be contented with
first thoughts without choice or selection.
The judgement, after it has been long
passive, by degrees loses its power of be
coming active when exertion is necessary.
Whoever, therefore, has this talent, must
in some measure undo what he has had the
habit of doing, or at least give a new turn
to his mind: great works, which are to
live and stand the criticism of posterity,
are not performed at a heat. A propor
tionable time is required for deliberation
and circumspection. I remember when I
was at Rome looking at the fighting Gla-
g 2

84 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
diator, in company with an eminent Sculp
tor, and I expressed my admiration of the
skill with which the whole is composed,
and the minute attention of the Artist to
the change of every muscle in that momen
tary exertion of strength, he was of opinion
that a work so perfect required nearly the
whole life of man to perform.
I believe, if we look around us, we shall
find, that in the sister art of Poetry, what
has been soon done, has been as soon for
gotten. The judgement and practice of a
great Poet on this occasion is worthy atten
tion. Metastasio, who has so much and
justly distinguished himself throughout Eu
rope, at his outset was an Improvvisatore,
or extempore Poet, a description of men not
uncommon in Italy : it is not long. since he
was asked by a friend, if he did not think
the custom of inventing and reciting extem
pore, which he practised when a boy in his
character of an Improvvisatore, might not
be considered as a happy beginning of his
education ; he thought it, on the contrary,
a disadvantage to him : he said that he had

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. Si
acquired by that habit a carelessness and
incorrectness, which it cost him much
trouble to overcome, and to substitute in
the place of it a totally different habit,
that of thinking with selection, and of
expressing himself with correctness and
precision. However extraordinary it may appear, it
is certainly true, that the inventions of the
Pittori improvvisatori, as they may be called,
have, — notwithstanding the common boast
of their authors that all is spun from their
own brain, — very rarely any thing that has
in the least the air of originality : — their
compositions are generally common-place,
uninteresting, without character or expres
sion ; like those flowery speeches that we
sometimes hear, which impress no new
ideas on the mind.
I would not be thought, however, by
what has been said, to oppose the use,, the
advantage, the necessity there is, of a
Painter's being readily able to express his
ideas by sketching. The further he can
carry such designs, the better. The evil to
g 3

86 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
be apprehended is, his resting there, and
not correcting them afterwards from nature,
or taking the trouble to look about him for
whatever assistance the works of others will
afford him.
We are not to suppose, that when a Painter
sits down to deliberate on any work, he has
all his knowledge to seek ; he must not only
be able to draw extempore the human figure
in every variety of action, but he must be
acquainted likewise with the general prin
ciples of composition, and possess a habit
of foreseeing, while he is composing, the
effect of the masses of light and shadow,
that will attend such a disposition. His
mind is entirely occupied by his attention
to the whole. It is a subsequent con
sideration to determine the attitude and
expression of individual figures. It is in
this period of his work that I would re
commend to every artist to look over his
port-folio, or pocket-book, in which he
has treasured up all the happy inven
tions, all the extraordinary and expres
sive attitudes, that he has met with in
the course of his studies ; not only for

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 87
the sake of borrowing from those studies
whatever may be applicable to his own
work, but likewise on account of the
great advantage he will receive by bring
ing the ideas of great Artists more dis
tinctly before his mind, which will teach
him to invent other figures in a similar
style. Sir Francis Bacon speaks with approbation
of the provisionary methods Demosthenes
and Cicero employed to assist their inven
tion : and illustrates their use by a quaint
comparison after his manner. These par
ticular Studios being not immediately con
nected with our art, I need not cite the
passage I allude to, and shall only observe
that such preparation totally opposes the
general received opinions that are floating
in the world, concerning genius and inspi-
jration. The same great man in another
place, speaking of his own essays, remarks,
that they treat of " those things, wherein
" both men's lives and persons are most
" conversant, whereof a man shall find
" much in experience, but little in books :"
they are then what an artist would naturally
g 4

88 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
call invention; and yet we may suspect
that even the genius of Bacon, great as it
was, would never have been enabled to have
made those observations, if his mind had not
been trained and disciplined by reading the
observations of others. Nor could he with
out such reading have known that those
opinions were not to be found in other
books. I know there are many Artists of great
fame who appear never to have looked
out of themselves, and who probably would
think it derogatory to their character, to be
supposed to borrow from any other Painter.
But when we recollect, and compare the
works of such men with those who took to
their assistance the inventions of others, we
sha'll be convinced of the great advantage
of this latter practice.
The two men most eminent for readiness
of invention, that occur to me, are Luca
Giordano and La Fage ; one in painting,
and the other in drawing.
To such extraordinary powers as were

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 89
possessed by both of those Artists, we
cannot refuse the character of Genius ; at
the same time, it must be acknowledged,
that it was that kind of mechanick Genius
which operates without much assistance of
the head. In all their works, which are
(as might be expected) very numerous,
we may look in vain for any thing that
can be said to be original and striking;
and yet, according to the ordinary ideas
of originality, they have as good preten
sions as most Painters ; for they borrowed
very little from others, and still less will
any Artist, that can distinguish between
excellence and insipidity, ever borrow
from them.
To those men, and all such, let us op
pose the practice of the first of Painters.
I suppose we shall all agree, that no man
ever possessed a greater power of inven
tion, and stood less in need of foreign
assistance, than Raffaelle ; and yet, when
he was designing one of his greatest as
well as latest works, the Cartoons, it is very
apparent that he had the studies which
he had made from Masaccio before him<

90 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
Two noble figures of St. Paul, which he
found there, he adopted in his own work :
one of them he took for St. Paul preaching
at Athens ; and the other for the same
Saint, when chastising the sorcerer Elymas.
Another figure in the same work, whose
head is sunk in his breast, with his eyes
shut, appearing deeply wrapt up in thought,
was introduced amongst the listeners to the
preaching of St. Paul. The most material
alteration that is made in those two figures
of St. Paul, is the addition of the left
hands, which are not seen in the original.
It is a rule that Raffaelle observed, (and
indeed ought never to be dispensed with,)
in a principal figure, to show both hands ;
that it should never be a question, what
is become of the other hand. For the
Sacrifice at Listra, he took the whole
ceremony much as it stands in an ancient
Basso-relievo, since published in the An-
MIRANDA. I have given examples from those pic
tures only of Raffaelle which we have
among us, though many other instances
might be produced of this great Painter's

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 91
not disdaining assistance : indeed his
known wealth was so great, that he might
borrow where he pleased without loss of
credit. It may be remarked, that this work of
Masaccio, from which he has borrowed so
freely, was a publick work, and at no farther
distance from Rome, than Florence ; so
that if he had considered it a disgraceful
theft, he was sure to be detected ; but he
was well satisfied that his character for
Invention would be little affected by such a
discovery ; nor is it, except in the opinion
of those who are ignorant of the manner
in which great works are built.
Those who steal from mere poverty ;
who, having nothing of their own, cannot
exist a minute without making such de
predations ; who are so poor that they
have no place in which they can even de
posit what they have taken ; to men of this
description nothing can be said : but such
Artists as those to whom I suppose myself
now speaking, men whom I consider as com
petently provided with all the necessaries

92 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
and conveniences of art, and who do not
desire to steal baubles and common trash,
but wish only to possess peculiar rarities
which they select to ornament their cabi
nets, and take care to enrich the general
store with materials of equal or of greater
value than what they have taken ; such
men surely need not be ashamed of that
friendly intercourse which ought to exist
among Artists, of receiving from the dead
and giving to the living, and perhaps to
those who are yet unborn.
The daily food and nourishment of the
mind of an Artist is found in the great
works of his predecessors. There is no
other way for him to become great himself.
Serpens, nisi serpentem comederit, non fit
draco *, is a remark of a whimsical Natural
History, which I have read, though I do
not recollect its title ; however false
as to dragons, it is applicable enough to
Artists. * In Ben Johnson's Catiline we find this aphorism,
with a slight variation :
" A serpent, ere he comes to be a dragon,
" Must eat a bat." M.

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 93
Raffaelle, as appears from what has been
said, had carefully studied the works of
Masaccio ; and indeed there was no other, if
we except Michael Angelo, (whom he like
wise imitated,) so worthy of his attention ;
and though his manner was dry and hard,
his compositions formal, and not enough
diversified, according to the custom of
Painters in that early period, yet his works
possess that grandeur and simplicity which
accompany, and even sometimes proceed
from, regularity and hardness of manner.
We must consider the barbarous state of
the Arts before his time, when skill in
drawing was so little understood, that the
best of the painters could not even fore
shorten the foot, but every figure appeared
to stand upon his toes ; and what served
for drapery, had, from the hardness and
smallness of the folds, too much the ap
pearance of cords clinging round the
body. He first introduced large drapery,
flowing in an easy and natural manner :
indeed he appears to be the first who
discovered the path that leads to every
excellence to which the Art afterwards
arrived, and may therefore be justly con-
IO

94 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
sidered as one of the Great Fathers of
modern Art.
Though I have been led on to a longer
digression respecting this great Painter
than I intended, yet I cannot avoid men
tioning another excellence which he pos
sessed in a very eminent degree ; he was
as much distinguished among his contem
poraries for his diligence and industry, as
he was for the natural faculties of his
mind. We are told that his whole atten
tion was absorbed in the pursuit of his
art, and that he acquired the name of
Masaccio*, from his total disregard to his
dress, his person, and all the common
concerns of life. He is indeed a signal
instance of what well-directed diligence will
do in a short time ; he lived but twenty-
seven years ; yet in that short space carried
the art so far beyond what it had before
reached, that he appears to stand alone as a
model for his successors. Vasari gives a
long catalogue of Painters and Sculptors,
who formed their taste, and learned their
* The addition of actio denotes some deformity or im
perfection attending that person to whom it is applied. R.

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 95
Art, by studying his works ; among those,
he names Michael Angelo, Lionardo da
Vinci, Pietro Perugino, Raffaelle, Bartolo
meo, Andrea del Sarto, II Rosso, and Pie-
rino del Vaga.
The habit of contemplating and brooding
over the ideas of great geniuses* till you find
yourself warmed by the contact, is the true
method of forming an artist-like mind ; it is
impossible, in the presence of those great
men, to think, or invent in a mean man
ner ; a state of mind is acquired that
receives those ideas only which relish of
grandeur and simplicity.
Beside the general advantage of forming
the taste by such an intercourse, there is
another of a particular kind, which was
suggested to me by the practice of Raf
faelle, when imitating the work of which
I have been speaking. The figure of
the Proconsul, Sergius Paulus, is taken
from the Felix of Masaccio, though one
is a front figure, and the other seen in
profile ; the action is likewise somewhat
changed; but it is plain Raffaelle had

96 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
that figure in his mind. There is a cir
cumstance indeed, which I mention by
the bye, which marks it very particularly ;
Sergius Paulus wears a crown of laurel ;
this is hardly reconcileable to strict pro
priety, and the costume, of which Raffaelle
was in general a good observer ; but he
found it so in Masaccio, and he did
not bestow so much pains in disguise as
to change it. It appears to me to be an
excellent practice, thus to suppose the
figures which you wish to adopt in the
works of those great Painters to be sta
tues ; and to give, as Raffaelle has here
given, another view, taking care to preserve
all the spirit and grace you find in the
original. I should hope, from what has been lately
said, that it is not necessary to guard myself
against any supposition of recommending an
entire dependence upon former masters. I
do not desire that you shall get other people
to do your business, or to think for you; I
only wish you to consult with, to call in, as
Counsellors, men the most distinguished for
their knowledge and experience, the result

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 97
of which counsel must ultimately depend
upon yourself. Such conduct in the com
merce of life has never been considered
as disgraceful, or in any respect to imply
intellectual imbecility ; it is a sign rather
of that true wisdom, which feels indivi
dual imperfection ; and is conscious to
itself how much collective observation is
necessary to fill the immense extent, and
to comprehend the infinite variety of na
ture. I recommend neither self-depend
ence nor plagiarism. I advise you only to
take that assistance which every human
being wants, and which, as appears from
the examples that have been given, the
greatest Painters have not disdained to
accept. Let me add, that the diligence
required in the search, and the exertion
subsequent in accommodating those ideas
to your own purpose, is a business which
idleness will not, and ignorance cannot,
perform. But in order more distinctly to
explain what kind of borrowing I mean,
when I recommend so anxiously the study
of the works of great Masters, let us for
a minute return again to Raffaelle, con
sider his method of practice, and endea-
VOL. II. h

98 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
voul* to imitate him, in his manner of
imitating others.
The two figures of St. Paul which I
lately mentioned, are so nobly conceived
by Masaccio, that perhaps it was not in
the power even of Raffaelle himself to
raise and improve them, nor has he at
tempted it ; but he has had the address to
change in some measure without diminish
ing the grandeur of their character ; he
has substituted, in the place of a serene
composed dignity, that animated expres
sion which was necessary to the more ac
tive employment he has assigned them.
In the same manner he has given more
animation to the figure of Sergius Paulus,
and to that which is introduced in the pic
ture of St. Paul preaching, of which little
more than hints are given by Masaccio,
which Raffaelle has finished. The closing
the eyes of this figure, which in Masaccio
might be easily mistaken for sleeping, is
not in the least ambiguous in the Cartoon :
his eyes indeed are closed, but they are
closed with such vehemence, that the agi-

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 99
tat ion of a mind perplexed in the extreme
is seen at the first glance; but what is
most extraordinary, and I think particu
larly to be admired, is, that the same idea
is continued through the whole figure,
even to the drapery, which is so closely
muffled about him, that even his hands
are not seen ; by this happy correspond
ence between the expression of the coun
tenance, and the disposition of the parts,
the figure appears to think from head to
foot. Men of superior talents alone are
capable of thus using and adapting other
men's minds to their own purposes, or are
able to make out and finish what was only
in the original a hint or imperfect concep
tion. A readiness in taking such hints,
which escape the dull and ignorant, makes
in my opinion no inconsiderable part of
that faculty of the mind which is called
Genius. It often happens that hints may be taken
and employed in a situation totally different
from that in which they were originally
employed. There is a figure of a Bacchante
leaning backward, her head thrown quite
h 2

100 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
behind her, which seems to be a favourite
invention, as it is so frequently repeated in
basso-relievos, cameos, and intaglios ; it is
intended to express an enthusiastick frantick
kind of joy. This figure Baccio Bandinellh
in a drawing that I have of that Master, of
the Descent from the Cross, has adopted,
(and he knew very well what was worth
borrowing,) for one of the Marys, to ex
press frantick agony of grief. It is curious
to observe, and it is certainly true, that
the extremes of contrary passions are with
very little variation expressed by the same
action. If I were to recommend method in any
part of the study of a Painter, it would be
in regard to invention ; that young Students
should not presume to think themselves
qualified to invent, till they were acquaint
ed with those stores of invention the world
already possesses, and had by that means
accumulated sufficient materials for the mind
to work with. It would certainly be no
improper method of forming the mind of a
young Artist, to begin with such exercises
as the Italians call a Pasticcio composition of
9

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 101
the different excellencies which are dis
persed in all other works of the same kind.
It is not supposed that he is to stop here,
but that he is to acquire by this means the
art of selecting, first what is truly excellent
in Art, and then what is still more excel
lent in Nature ; a task which, without this
previous study, he will be but ill qualified
to perform.
The doctrine which is here advanced, is
acknowledged to be new, and to many may
appear strange. But I only demand for it
the reception of a stranger ; a favourable
and attentive consideration, without that
entire confidence which might be claimed
under authoritative recommendation.
After you have taken a figure, or any
idea of a figure, from any of those great
Painters, there is another operation still
remaining, which I hold to be indispensably
necessary, that is, never to neglect finishing
from nature every part of the work. What
is taken from a model, though the first idea
may have been suggested by another, you
have a just right to consider as your own
h 3

102 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE:
property. And here I cannot avoid men
tioning a circumstance in placing the model,
though to some it may appear trifling. It
is better to possess the model with the atti
tude you require, than to place him with
your own hands : by this means it happens
often that the model puts himself in an
action superior to your own imagination.
It is a great matter to be in the way of
accident, and to be watchful and ready to
take advantage of it : besides, when you
fix the position of a model, there is danger
of putting him in an attitude into which no
man would naturally fall. This extends
even to drapery. We must be cautious in
touching and altering a fold of the stuff,
which serves as a model, for fear of giving
it inadvertently a forced form ; and it is
perhaps better to take the chance of an
other casual throw, than to alter the posi
tion in which it was at first accidentally
cast. Rembrandt, in order to take the ad
vantage of accident, appears often to have
used the pallet-knife to lay his colours on
the canvass, instead of the pencil. Whe-

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 103
ther it is the knife or any other instrument,
it suffices if it is something that does not
follow exactly the will. Accident in the
hands of an Artist who knows how to take
the advantage of its hints, will often pro
duce bold and capricious beauties of hand
ling and facility, such as he would not have
thought of, or ventured, with his pencil,
under the regular restraint of his hand.
However, this is fit only on occasions where
no correctness of form is required, such as
clouds, stumps of trees, rocks, or broken
ground. Works produced in an accidental
manner will have the same free unre
strained air as the works of nature, whose
particular combinations seem to depend
upon accident.
I again repeat, you are never to lose
sight of nature ; the instant you do, you
are all abroad, at the mercy of every gust
of fashion, without knowing or seeing the
point to which you ought to steer. What
ever trips you make, you must still have
nature in your eye. Such deviations as art
necessarily requires, I hope in a future Dis
course to be able to explain. In the mean
h 4

104. THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
time, let me recommend to you, not to
have too great dependance on your prac
tice or memory, however strong those im
pressions may have been which are there
deposited. They are for ever wearing out,
and will be at last obliterated, unless they
are continually refreshed and repaired.
It is not uncommon to meet with artists
who, from a long neglect of cultivating this
necessary intimacy with Nature, do not
even know her when they see her ; she ap
pearing a stranger to them, from their being
so long habituated to their own representa
tion of her. I have heard Painters acknow
ledge, though in that acknowledgment no
degradation of themselves was intended,
that they could do better without Nature
than with her ; or, as they expressed it
themselves, that it only put them out. A
Painter with such ideas and such habits, is
indeed in a most hopeless state. The art
of seeing Nature, or, in other words, the
art of using Models, is in reality the great
object, the point to which all our studies are
directed. As for the power of being able
to do tolerably well, from practice alone,

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 105
let it be valued according to its worth.
But I do not see in what manner it can
be sufficient for the production of correct,
excellent, and finished Pictures. Works
deserving this character never were pro
duced, nor ever will arise, from memory
alone ; and I will venture to say, that an
Artist who brings to his work a mind
tolerably furnished with the general prin
ciples of Art, and a taste formed upon the
works of good Artists, in short, who knows
in what excellence consists, will, with the
assistance of Models, which we will like
wise suppose he has learnt the art of using,
be an over-match for the greatest painter
that ever lived who should be debarred
such advantages.
Our neighbours, the French, are much in
this practice of extempore invention, and
their dexterity is such as even to excite
admiration, if not envy ; but how rarely can
this praise be given to their finished
pictures !
The late Director of their Academy,
Boucher, was eminent in this way. When

106 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
I visited him some years since in France,
I found him at work on a very large Picture,
without drawings or models of any kind.
On my remarking this particular circum
stance, he said, when he was young, study
ing his art, he found it necessary to use
models ; but he had left them off for many
years. Such Pictures as this was, and such as I
fear always will be produced by those who
work solely from practice or memory, may
be a convincing proof of the necessity of the
conduct which I have recommended. How
ever, in justice I cannot quit this Painter
without adding, that in the former part of
his life, when he was in the habit of having
recourse to nature, he was not without a
considerable degree of merit, — enough to
make half the Painters of his country his
imitators ; he had often grace and beauty,
and good skill in composition ; but I think,
all under the influence of a bad taste : his
imitators are indeed abominable.
Those Artists who have quitted the ser
vice of nature, (whose service, when well

THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE. 107
understood, is perfect freedom,) and have put
themselves under the direction of I know
not what capricious fantastical mistress,
who fascinates and overpowers their whole
mind, and from whose dominion there are
no hopes of their being ever reclaimed,
(since they appear perfectly satisfied, and
not at all conscious of their forlorn situa
tion,) like the transformed followers of
Comus, —
Not once perceive their foul disfigurement ;
But boast themselves more comely than before.
Methinks, such men, who have found
out so short a path, have no reason to com
plain of the shortness of life, and the extent
of art ; since life is so much longer than is
wanted for their improvement, or indeed
is necessary for the accomplishment of their
idea of perfection. On the contrary, he
who recurs to nature, at every recurrence
renews his strength. The rules of art he
is never likely to forget ; they are few and
simple ; but nature is refined, subtle, and
infinitely various, beyond the power and
retention of memory ; it is necessary, there-

108 THE TWELFTH DISCOURSE.
fore, to have continual recourse to her. In
this intercourse, there is no end of his im
provement ; the longer he lives, the nearer
he approaches to the true and perfect idea
of art.

DISCOURSE XIII.
DELIVERED TO THE STUDENTS OF
THE ROYAL ACADEMY,
ON THE
DISTRIBUTION OF THE PRIZES,
DECEMBER l). 1786,

DISCOURSE XIII.

ART NOT MERELY IMITATION, BUT UNDER THE DIRECTION
OF THE IMAGINATION.  IN WHAT MANNER POETRY,
PAINTING, ACTING, GARDENING, AND ARCHITECTURE,
DEPART FROM NATURE.
GENTLEMEN,
lo discover beauties, or to point out
faults, in the works of celebrated Masters,
and to compare the conduct of one Artist
with another, is certainly no mean or incon
siderable part of criticism ; but this is still
ho more than to know the art through the
Artist. This test of investigation must
have two capital defects ; it must be narrow,
and it must be uncertain. To enlarge the
boundaries of the Art of Painting, as well
as to fix its principles, it will be necessary,
that, that art, and those principles, should
be considered in their correspondence with
the principles of the other arts, which, like
this, address themselves primarily and
principally to the imagination. When
those connected and kindred principles are

112 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
brought together to be compared, another
comparison will grow out of this ; that is,
the comparison of them all with those of
human nature, from whence arts derive the
materials upon which they are to produce
their effects.
When this comparison of art with art,
and of all arts with the nature of man, is
once made with success, our guiding lines
are as well ascertained and established, as
they can be in matters of this description.
This, as it is the highest style of criti
cism, is at the same time the soundest ; for
it refers to the eternal and immutable nature
of things.
You are not to imagine that I mean to'
open to you at large, or to recommend to
your research, the whole of this vast field of
science. It is certainly much above my facul
ties to reach it ; and though it may not be
above yours to comprehend it fully, if it were
fully and properly brought before you, yet
perhaps the most perfect criticism requires
habitsofspeculationandabstraction,notvery

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 113
consistent with the employment which
ought to occupy, and the habits of mind
which ought to prevail in a practical Artist.
I only point out to you these things, that
when you do criticise, (as all who work on
a plan will criticise more or less,) your cri
ticism may be built on the foundation of true
principles ; and that though you may not
always travel a great way, the way that you
do travel may be the right road.
I observe, as a fundamental ground,
common to all the Arts with which we have
any concern in this discourse, that they
address themselves only to two faculties
of the mind, its imagination and its sen
sibility. /All theories which attempt to direct or to
control the Art, upon any principles falsely
called rational, which we form to ourselves
upon a supposition of what ought in reason
to be the end or means of Art, independent
of the known first effect produced by ob
jects on the imagination, must be false and
delusive. For though it may appear bold
to say it, the imagination is here the resi-
VOL. II. i

114 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
dence of truth. If the imagination be af
fected, the conclusion is fairly drawn ; if it
be not affected, the reasoning is erroneous,
because the end is not obtained ; the effect
itself being the test, and the only test, of
the truth and efficacy of the means. ^Y
There is in the commerce of life, as in
Art, a sagacity which is far from being con
tradictory to right reason, and is superior to
any occasional exercise of that faculty ;
which supersedes it ; and does not wait for
the slow progress of deduction, but goes at
once, by what appears a kind of intuition,
to the conclusion. A man endowed with
this faculty, feels and acknowledges the
truth, though it is not always in his power,
perhaps, to give a reason for it ; because he
cannot recollect and bring before him all
the materials that gave birth to his opinion ;
for very many and very intricate consider
ations may unite to form the principle,
even of small and minute parts, involved
in, or dependent on a great system of
'things : though these in process of time are
forgotten, the right impression still remains
fixed in his mind.

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 115
This impression is the result of the accu
mulated experience of our whole life, and
has been collected, we do not always know
how, or when. But this mass of collective
observation, however acquired, ought to
prevail over that reason, which however
powerfully exerted on any particular occa
sion, will probably comprehend but a par
tial view of the subject ; and our conduct
in life, as well as in the Arts, is, or ought
to be, generally governed by this habitual
reason: it is our happiness that we are
enabled to draw on such funds. If we
were obliged to enter into a theoretical
deliberation on every occasion, before we
act, life would be at a stand, and Art would
be impracticable.
It appears to me therefore, that our first
thoughts, that is, the effect which any thing
produces on our minds, on its first appear
ance, is never to be forgotten; and it demands
for that reason, because it is the first, to be
laid up with care. If this be not done, the
Artist may happen to impose on himself by
partial reasoning ; by a cold consideration of
those animated thoughts which proceed, not
i 2

116 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
perhaps from caprice or rashness, (as he
may afterwards conceit,) but from the ful
ness of his mind, enriched with the copious
stores of all the various inventions which he
had ever seen, or had ever passed in his
mind. These ideas are infused into his
design, without any conscious effort; but
if he be not on his guard, he may re-con
sider and correct them, till the whole
matter is reduced to a common-place in
vention. This is sometimes the effect of what I
mean to caution you against ; that is to say,
an unfounded distrust of the imagination
and feeling, in favour of narrow, partial,
confined, argumentative theories ; and of
principles that seem to apply to the design
in hand ; without considering those general
impressions on the fancy in which real prin
ciples of sound reason, and of much more
weight and importance, are involved, and,
as it were, lie hid, under the appearance of
a sort of vulgar sentiment.
Reason, without doubt, must ultimately
determine every thing ; at this minute it is

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 117
required to inform us when that very rea
son is to give way to feeling.

/

Though I have often spoke of that mean
conception of our art which confines it to
mere imitation, I must add, that it may be
narrowed to such a mere matter of experi
ment, as to exclude from it the application
of science, which alone gives dignity and
compass to any art. But to find proper
foundations for science is neither to nar
row or to vulgarise it; and this is suffi
ciently exemplified in the success of ex
perimental philosophy. It is the false
system of reasoning, grounded on a par
tial view of things, against which I would
most earnestly guard you. And I do it
the rather, because those narrow theories,
so coincident with the poorest and most
miserable practice, and which are adopted
to give it countenance, have not had their
origin in the poorest minds, but in the
mistakes, or possibly in the mistaken in
terpretations, of great and commanding
authorities. We are not therefore in this
case misled by feeling, but by false spe
culation. i 3

118 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
When such a man as Plato speaks of
Painting as only an imitative art, and that
our pleasure proceeds from observing and
acknowledging the truth of the imitation,
I think he misleads us by a partial theory.
It is w this poor, partial, and so far, false,
view of the art, that Cardinal Bembo has
chosen to distinguish even Raffaelle himself,
whom our enthusiasm honours with the
name of Divine. The same sentiment is
adopted by Pope in his epitaph on Sir
Godfrey Kneller; and he turns the pane-
gyrick solely on imitation, as it is a sort of
deception. I shall not think my time misemployed,
if by any means I may contribute to con
firm your opinion of what ought to be the
object of your pursuit; because, though
the best criticks must always have ex
ploded this strange idea, yet I know that
there is a disposition towards a perpetual
recurrence to it, on account of its simpli
city and superficial plausibility. For this
reason I shall beg leave to lay before you a
few thoughts on this subject ; to throw out
some hints that may lead your minds to an

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 119
opinion, (which I take to be the truth,) that
Painting is not only to be considered as
an imitation, operating by . deception, but
that it is, and ought to be, in many points
of view, and strictly speaking, no imitation
at all of external nature. Perhaps it
ought to be as far removed from the vul
gar idea of imitation, as the refined civi
lized state in which we live, is removed
from a gross state of nature ; and those
who have not cultivated their imagina
tions, which the majority of mankind cer
tainly have not, may be said, in regard to
arts, to continue in this state of nature.
Such men will always prefer imitation to
that excellence which is addressed to an
other faculty that they do not possess ;
but these are not the persons to whom a
Painter is to look, any more than a judge
of morals and manners ought to refer
controverted points upon those subjects
to the opinions of people taken from the
banks of the Ohio, or from New Hol
land. It is the lowest style only of arts, whether
of Painting, Poetry, or Musick, that may
i 4

120 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
be said, in the vulgar sense, to be naturally
pleasing. The higher efforts of those arts
we know by experience, do not affect minds
wholly uncultivated. This refined taste is
the consequence of education and habit;
we are born only with a capacity of enter
taining this refinement, as we are born with
a disposition to receive and obey all the
rules and regulations of society ; and so far
it may be said to be natural to us, and no
further. What has been said, may show the
Artist how necessary it is, when he looks
about him for the advice and criticism of
his friends, to make some distinction of the
character, taste, experience, and observation
in this Art, of those, from whom it is re
ceived. An ignorant uneducated man may,
like Apelles's critick, be a competent judge
of the truth of the representation of a
sandal; or to go somewhat higher, like
Moliere's old woman, may decide upon what
is nature, in regard to comick humour;
but a critick in the higher style of art,
ought to possess the same refined taste,
which directed the Artist in his work.

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 121
To illustrate this principle by a compari
son with other Arts, I shall now produce
some instances to show, that they, as well
as our own Art, renounce the narrow idea
of nature, and the narrow theories derived
from that mistaken principle, and apply to
that reason only which informs us not what
imitation is, — a natural representation of
a given object, — but what it is natural for
the imagination to be delighted with. And
perhaps there is no better way of acquiring
this knowledge, than by this kind of ana
logy : each art will corroborate and mutually
reflect the truth on the other. Such a kind
of juxtaposition may likewise have this use,
that whilst the Artist is amusing himself
in the contemplation of other Arts, he may
habitually transfer the principles of those
Arts to that which he professes ; which
ought to be always present to his mind,
and to which every thing is to be referred.
So far is Art from being derived from,
or having any immediate intercourse with,
particular nature as its model, that there
are many Arts that set out with a professed
deviation from it.

122 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
This is certainly not so exactly true in
regard to Painting and Sculpture. Our
elements are laid in gross common nature,
— an exact imitation of what is before us :
but when we advance to the higher state,
we consider this power of imitation, though
first in the order of acquisition, as by
no means the highest in the scale of
perfection. Poetry addresses itself to the same facul
ties and the same dispositions as Painting,
though by different means. The object of
both is to accommodate itself to all the
natural propensities and inclinations of the
mind. The very existence of Poetry de
pends on the licence it assumes of deviat
ing from actual nature, in order to gratify
natural propensities by other means, which
are found by experience full as capable of
affording such gratification. It sets out
with a language in the highest degree arti
ficial, a construction of measured words,
such as never is, nor ever was used by
man. Let this measure be what it may,.
whether hexameter or any other metre used
in Latin or Greek, — or Rhyme, or blank
2

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 123
Verse varied with pauses and accents, in
modern languages, — they are all equally
removed from nature, and equally a viola
tion of common speech. When this arti
ficial mode has been established as the
vehicle of sentiment, there is another prin
ciple in the human mind, to which the
work must be referred, which still renders
it more artificial, carries it still further from
common nature, and deviates only to render
it more perfect. That principle is the sense
of congruity, coherence, and consistency,
which is a real existing principle in man ;
and it must be gratified. Therefore having
once adopted a style and a measure not found
in common discourse, it is required that
the sentiments also should be iii the same
proportion elevated above common nature,
from the necessity of there being an agree
ment of the parts among themselves, that
one uniform whole may be produced.
To correspond therefore with this general
system of deviation from nature, the man
ner in which poetry is offered to the ear,
the tone in which it is recited, should be
as far removed from the tone of convers-

12* THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
ation, as the words of which that Poetry
is composed. This naturally suggests the
idea of modulating the voice by art, which
I suppose may be considered as accom
plished to the highest degree of excellence
in the recitative of the Italian Opera ; as
we may conjecture it was in the Chorus
that attended the ancient drama. And
though the most violent passions, the
highest distress, even death itself, are ex
pressed in singing or recitative, I would
not admit as sound criticism the condemn
ation of such exhibitions on account of
their being unnatural.
If it is natural for our senses, and our
imaginations, to be delighted with singing,
with instrumental musick, with poetry, and
with graceful action, taken separately; (none
of them being in the vulgar sense natural,
even in that separate state ;) it is conform
able to experience, and therefore agreeable
to reason as connected with and referred to
experience, that we should also be delighted
with this union of musick, poetry, and
graceful action joined to every circumstance
of pomp and magnificence calculated to

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 125
strike the senses of the spectator. Shall
reason stand in the way, and tell us that
we ought not to like what we know we do
like, and prevent us from feeling the full
effect of this complicated exertion of art?
This is what I would understand by poets
and painters being allowed to dare every
thing ; for what can be more daring, than
accomplishing the purpose and end of
art, by a complication of means, none of
which have their archetypes in actual
nature ?
So far therefore is servile imitation from
being necessary, that whatever is familiar,
or in any way reminds us of what we see
and hear every day, perhaps does not
belong to the higher provinces of art, either
in poetry or painting. The mind is to be
transported, as Shakspeare expresses it,
beyond the ignorant present, to ages past.
Another and a higher order of beings is sup
posed ; and to those beings every thing
which is introduced into the work must
correspond. Of this conduct, under these
circumstances, the Roman and Florentine
schools afford sufficient examples. Their

126 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
style by this means is raised and elevated
above all others ; and by the same means
the compass of art itself is enlarged.
We often see grave and great subjects
attempted by artists of another school; who,
though excellent in the lower class of art,
proceeding on the principles which regulate
that class, and not recollecting, or not
knowing, that they were to address them
selves to another faculty of the mind, have
become perfectly ridiculous.
The picture which I have at present in my
thoughts is a sacrifice of Iphigenia, painted
by Jan Steen, a painter of whom I have
formerly had occasion to speak with the
highest approbation ; and even in this
picture, the subject of which is by no means
adapted to his genius, there is nature and
expression ; but it is such expression, and
the countenances are so familiar, and con
sequently so vulgar, and the whole accom
panied with such finery of silks and velvets,
that one would be almost tempted to
doubt, whether the artist did not purposely
intend to burlesque his subject.

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 127
Instances of the same kind we frequently
see in poetry. Parts of Hobbes's translation
of Homer are remembered and repeated
merely for the familiarity and meanness of
their phraseology, so ill corresponding
with the ideas which ought to have been
expressed, and, as I conceive, with the
style of the original.
We may proceed in the same manner
through the comparatively inferior branches
of art. There are in works of that class,
the same distinction of a higher and a
lower style ; and they take their rank and
degree in proportion as the artist departs
more, or less, from common nature, and
makes it an object of his attention to
strike the imagination of the spectator
by ways belonging specially to art, — unob
served and untaught out of the school of
its practice.
If our judgments are to be directed by
narrow, vulgar, untaught or rather ill-taught
reason, we must prefer a portrait by Denner,
or any other high finisher, to those of
Titian or Vandyck ; and a landscape of

128 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
Vanderheyden to those of Titian or
Rubens ; for they are certainly more exact
representations of nature.
If we suppose a view of nature represented
with all the truth of the camera obscura, and
the same scene represented by a great artist,
how little and mean will the one appear in
comparison of the other, whereno superiority
is supposed from the choice of the subject.
The scene shall be the same, the difference
only will be in the manner in which it is
presented to the eye. With what additional
superiority then will the same Artist appear
when he has the power of selecting his
materials, as well as elevating his style?
Like Nicolas Poussin, he transports us to
the environs of ancient Rome, with all the
objects which a literary education makes so
precious and interesting to man : or, like
Sebastian Bourdon, he leads us to the dark
antiquity of the Pyramids of Egypt; or,
like Claude Lorrain, he conducts us to the
tranquillity of Arcadian scenes and fairy
land. Like the history-painter, a painter of

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 129
landscapes in this style and with this con
duct, sends the imagination back into an
tiquity; and, like the poet, he makes the
elements sympathise with his subject : whe
ther the clouds roll in volumes like those
of Titian or Salvator Rosa, ---or, like those
of Claude, are gilded with the setting sun ;
whether the mountains have sudden and
bold projections, or are gently sloped;
whether the branches of his trees shoot
out abruptly in right angles from their
trunks, or follow each other with only a
gentle inclination. All these circumstances
contribute to the general character of the
work, whether it be of the elegant, or of
the more sublime kind. If we add to this
the powerful materials of lightness and
darkness, over which the Artist has com
plete dominion, to vary and dispose them
as he pleases ; to diminish, or increase
them, as will best suit his purpose, and
correspond to the general idea of his work;
a landscape thus conducted, under the in
fluence of a poetical mind, will have the
same superiority over the more ordinary
and common views, as Milton's Allegro and
Pensoroso have over a cold prosaick nar-
VOL. II. K

130 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
ration or description ; and such a picture
would make a more forcible impression on
the mind than the real scenes, were they
presented before us.
If we look abroad to other Arts, we may
observe the same distinction, the same
division into two classes ; each of them
acting under the influence of two differ
ent principles, in which the one follows
nature, the other varies it, and sometimes
departs from it.
The Theatre, which is said to hold the
mirrour up to nature, comprehends both
those ideas. The lower kind of Comedy,
or Farce, like the inferior style of Painting,
the more naturally it is represented, the
better; but the higher appears to me to
aim no more at imitation, so far as it be
longs to any thing like deception, or to
expect that the spectators should think
that the events there represented are really
passing before them, than Raffaelle in his
Cartoons, or Poussin in his Sacraments, ex
pected it to be believed, even for a moment,
that what they exhibited were real figures.

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 131
For want of this distinction, the world
is filled with false criticism. Raffaelle is
praised for naturalness and deception, which
he certainly has not accomplished, and as
certainly never intended; and our late
great actor, Garrick, has been as ignorantly
praised by his friend Fielding ; who doubt
less imagined he had hit upon an ingenious
device, by introducing in one of his novels,
(otherwise a work of the highest merit,) an
ignorant man, mistaking Garrick* s repre
sentation of a scene in Hamlet, for reality.
A very little reflection will convince us,
that there is not one circumstance in the
whole scene that is of the nature of decep
tion. The merit and excellence of Shak
speare, and of Garrick, when they were
engaged in such scenes, is of a different
and much higher kind. But what adds to
the falsity of this intended compliment, is,
that the best stage-representation appears
even more unnatural to a person of such a
character, who is supposed never to have
seen a play before, than it does to those
who Have had a habit of allowing for those
necessary deviations from nature which the
Art requires. k 2

132 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
In theatrick representation, great allow
ances must always be made for the place in
which the exhibition is represented; for the
surrounding company, the lighted candles,
the scenes visibly shifted in your sight, and
the language of blank verse, so different
from common English; which merely as
English must appear surprising in the
mouths of Hamlet, and all the court and
natives of Denmark. These allowances
are made; but their being made puts an
end to all manner of deception : and fur
ther ; we know that the more low, illite
rate, and vulgar any person is, the less he
will be disposed to make these allowances,
and of course to be deceived by any imita
tion ; the things in which the trespass
against nature and common probability
is made in favour of the theatre, being
quite within the sphere of such unin
formed men.
Though I have no intention of entering
into all the circumstances of unnaturalness
in theatrical representations, I must observe
that even the expression of violent passion is
not always the most excellent in proportion

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 133
as it is the most natural ; so, great terror
and such disagreeable sensations may be
communicated to the audience, that the
balance may be destroyed by which pleasure
is preserved, and holds its predominancy in
the mind : violent distortion of action,
harsh screamings of the voice, however
great the occasion, or however natural on
such occasion, are therefore not admissible
in the theatrick art. Manv of these allowed
Ml
deviations from nature arise from the neces
sity which there is, that every thing should
be raised and enlarged beyond its natural
state ; that the full effect may come home
to the spectator, which otherwise would
be lost in the comparatively extensive
space of the Theatre. Hence the delibe
rate and stately step, the studied grace of
action, which seems to enlarge the dimen
sions of the Actor, and alone to fill the
stage. All this unnaturalness, though right
and proper in its place, would appear
affected and ridiculous in a private room ;
quid enim deformius, qudm scenam in vitam
transferre ?
And here I must observe, and I believe
k 3

154 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
it may be considered as a general rule, that
no Art can be grafted with success on
another art. For though they all profess
the same origin, and to proceed from the
same stock, yet each has its own peculiar
modes both of imitating nature, and of
deviating from it, each for the accomplish
ment of its own particular purpose. These
deviations, more especially, will not bear
transplantation to another soil.
If a Painter should endeavour to copy
the theatrical pomp and parade of dress
and attitude, instead of that simplicity,
which is not a greater beauty in life
than it is in Painting, we should con
demn such Pictures, as painted in the
meanest style.
So also Gardening, as far as Gardening is
an Art, or entitled to that appellation, is a
deviation from nature ; For if the true taste
consists, as many hold, in banishing every
appearance of Art, or any traces of the foot
steps of man, it would then be no longer a
Garden. Even though we define it, " Na
ture to advantage dress'd," and in some

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 135
sense is such, and much more beautiful
and commodious for the recreation of man ;
it is however, when so dressed, no longer
a subject for the pencil of a Landscape-
Painter, as all Landscape- Painters know,
who love to have recourse to Nature her
self, and to dress her according to the prin
ciples of their own Art ; which are far dif
ferent from those of Gardening, even when
conducted according to the most approved
principles ^ and such as a Landscape-Painter
himself would adopt in the disposition
of his own grounds, for his own private
satisfaction. I have brought together as many instances
as appear necessary to make out the several
points which I wished to suggest to your
consideration in this Discourse ; that your
own thoughts may lead you further in the
use that may be made of the analogy of the
Arts ; and of the restraint which a full
understanding of the diversity of many of
their principles ought to impose on the
employment of that analogy.
The great end of all those arts is, to
k 4

136 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
make an impression on the imagination and
the feeling. The imitation of nature fre
quently does this. Sometimes it fails, and
something else succeeds. I think there
fore the true test of all the arts is not solely
whether the production is a true copy of
nature, but whether it answers the end of
art, which is to produce a pleasing effect
upon the mind.
It remains only to speak a few words of
Architecture, which does not come under
the denomination of an imitative art. It
applies itself, like Musick, (and I believe
we may add Poetry,) directly to the ima
gination, without the invention of any
kind of imitation.
There is in Architecture, as in Painting,
an inferior branch of art, in which the ima
gination appears to have no concern. It does
not, however, acquire the name of a polite
and liberal art, from its usefulness, or admi
nistering to our wants or necessities, but
from some higher principle : we are sure
that in the hands of a man of genius it is
capable of inspiring sentiment, and of filling
the mind with great and sublime ideas.

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 137
It may be worth the attention of Artists
to consider what materials are in their hands,
that may contribute to this end ; and
whether this art has it not in its power
to address itself to the imagination with
effect, by more ways than are generally
employed by Architects.
To pass over the effect produced by that
general symmetry and proportion, by which
the eye is delighted, as the ear is with mu
sick, Architecture certainly possesses many
principles in common with Poetry and
Painting. Among those which may be rec
koned as the first, is, that of affecting the
imagination by means of association of ideas.
Thus, for instance, as we have naturally a
veneration for antiquity, whatever building
brings to our remembrance ancient customs
and manners, such as the castles of the
Barons of ancient Chivalry, is sure to give
this delight. Hence it is that towers and
battlements* are so often selected by the
* Towers and Battlements it sees
Bosom'd high in tufted trees. Milton, L'ail. R.

138 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
Painter and the Poet, to make a part of the
composition of their ideal Landscape; and
it is from hence in a great degree, that in
the buildings of Vanbrugh, who was a
Poet as well as. an Architect, there is a
greater display of imagination, than we
shall find perhaps in any other, and this
is the ground of the effect we feel in many
of his works, notwithstanding the faults
with which many of them are justly
charged. For this purpose, Vanbrugh ap
pears to have had recourse to some of the
principles of the Gothick Architecture ;
which, though not so ancient as the Grecian,
is more so to our imagination, with which
the Artist is more concerned than with
absolute truth.
The Barbarick splendour of those Asia-
tick Buildings, which are now publishing
by a member of this Academy*, may pos
sibly, in the same manner, furnish an Archi
tect, not with models to copy, but with hints
of composition and general effect, which
would not otherwise have occurred.
* Mr. Hodges.

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 139
It is, I know, a delicate and hazardous
thing, (and as such I have already pointed
it out,) to carry the principles of one art
to another, or even to reconcile in one
object the various modes of the same Art,
when they proceed on different principles.
The sound rules of the Grecian Archi
tecture are not to be lightly sacrificed.
A deviation from them, or even an addi
tion to them, is like a deviation or ad
dition to, or from, the rules of other
Arts, — fit only for a great master, who
is thoroughly conversant in the nature
of man, as well as all combinations in his
own Art.
It may not be amiss for the Architect to
take advantage sometimes of that to which
I am sure the Painter ought always to
have his eyes open, I mean the use of acci
dents : to follow when they lead, and to
improve them, rather than always to trust
to a regular plan. It often happens that
additions have been made to houses, at
various times, for use or pleasure. As such
buildings depart from regularity, they now
and then acquire something of scenery by

140 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
this accident, which I should think might
not unsuccessfully be adopted by an Archi
tect, in an original plan, if it does not
too much interfere with convenience.
Variety and intricacy is a beauty and excel
lence in every other of the arts which
address the imagination : and why not in
Architecture ?
The forms and turnings of the streets of
London, and other old towns, are pro
duced by accident, without any original
plan or design : but they are not always the
less pleasant to the walker or spectator,
on that account. On the contrary, if the
city had been built on the regular plan
of Sir Christopher Wren, the effect
might have been, as we know it is in
some new parts of the town, rather un-
pleasing ; the uniformity might have pro
duced weariness, and a slight degree of
disgust. I can pretend to no skill in the detail of
Architecture. I judge now of the art,
merely as a Painter. When I speak of
Vanbrugh, I mean to speak of him in the

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. HI
language of our art. To speak then of
Vanbrugh in the language of a Painter, he
had originality of invention, he understood
light and shadow, and had great skill in
composition. To support his principal
object, he produced his second and third
groups or masses ; he perfectly understood
in his Art what is the most difficult in ours,
the conduct of the back-ground ; by which
the design and invention is set off to the
greatest advantage. What the back-ground
is in Painting, in Architecture is the real
ground on which the building is erected ;
and no Architect took greater care than he
that his work should not appear crude and
hard : that is, it did not abruptly start out
of the ground without expectation or pre
paration. This is a tribute which a Painter owes to
an Architect who composed like a Painter ;
and was defrauded of the due reward of his
merit by the Wits of his time, who did not
understand the principles of composition
in poetry better than he ; and who knew
little, or nothing, of what he understood
perfectly, the general ruling principles of

142 THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE.
Architecture and Painting. His fate was
that of the great Perrault ; both were the
objects of the petulant sarcasms of factious
men of letters ; and both have left some
of the fairest ornaments which to this
day decorate their several countries ; the
facade of the Louvre, Blenheim, and Castle-
Howard. Upon the whole, it seems to me, that the
object and intention of all the Arts is to
supply the natural imperfection of things,
and often to gratify the mind by realizing
and embodying what never existed but in
the imagination..
It is allowed on all hands, that facts,
and events, however they may bind the
Historian, have no dominion over the Poet
or the Painter. With us, History is made
to bend and conform to this great jdea of
Art. And why ? Because these Arts, in
their highest province, are not addressed
to the gross senses ; but to the desires of
the mind, to that spark of divinity which
we have within, impatient of being circum
scribed and pent up by the world which is
2

THE THIRTEENTH DISCOURSE. 143
about us. Just so much as our Art has of
this, just so much of dignity, I had almost
said of divinity, it exhibits ; and those of
our Artists who possessed this mark of
distinction in the highest degree, acquired
from thence the glorious appellation of
Divine.

DISCOURSE XIV.

DELIVERED TO THE STUDENTS OF
THE ROYAL ACADEMY,
« ON THE

DISTRIBUTION OF THE PRIZES,
v

DECEMBER 10. 1788.

VOL. II.

\

DISCOURSE XIV.

CHARACTER OF GAINSBOROUGH:  HIS EXCELLENCIES
AND DEFECTS.
GENTLEMEN,
In the study of our Art, as in the study of
all Arts, something is the result of our own
observation of Nature ; something, and that
not little, the effect of the example of those
who have studied the same nature before
us, and who have cultivated before us the
same Art, with diligence and success. The
less we confine ourselves in the choice of
those examples, the more advantage we
shall derive from them ; and the nearer
we shall bring our performances to a cor
respondence with nature and the great
general rules of Art. When we draw our
examples from remote and revered anti
quity, — with some advantage undoubtedly
in that selection, — we subject ourselves to
some inconveniences. We may suffer our-
l 2

148 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
selves to be too much led away by great
names, and to be too much subdued by
overbearing authority. Our learning, in
that case, is not so much an exercise of
our judgement, as a proof of our docility.
We find ourselves, perhaps, too much over
shadowed ; and the character of our pur
suits is rather distinguished by the tame-
ness of the follower, than animated by the
spirit of emulation. , It is sometimes of
service, that our examples should be near
us ; and such as raise a reverence, sufficient
to induce us carefully to observe them, yet
not so great as to prevent us from engaging
with them in something like a generous
contention. We have lately lost Mr. Gainsborough,
one of the greatest ornaments of our Aca
demy. It is not our business here, to
make panegy ricks on the living, or even
on the dead who were of our body. The
praise of the former might bear appearance
of adulation ; and the latter, of untimely
justice ; perhaps of envy to those whom we
have still the happiness to enjoy, by an
oblique suggestion of invidious compari-

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 149
sons. In discoursing therefore on the
talents of the late Mr. Gainsborough, my
object is, not so much to praise or to
blame him, as to draw from his excellen
cies and defects, matter of instruction to
the Students in our Academy. If ever this
nation should produce genius sufficient to
acquire to us the honourable distinction of
an English School, the name of Gains
borough will be transmitted to posterity, in
the history of the Art, among the very
first of that rising name. That our repu
tation in the Arts is now only rising, must
be acknowledged ; and we must expect our
advances to be attended with old preju
dices, as adversaries, and not as supporters ;
standing in this respect in a very different
situation from the late artists of the Roman
School, to whose reputation ancient preju
dices have certainly contributed : the way
was prepared for them, and they may be
said rather to have lived in the reputation
of their country, than to have contributed
to it ; whilst whatever celebrity is obtained
by English Artists, can arise only from the
operation of a fair and true comparison.
And when they communicate to their
l 3

150 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
country a share of their reputation, it is a
portion of fame not borrowed from others,
but solely acquired by their own labour
and talents. As Italy has undoubtedly a
prescriptive right to an administration bor
dering on prejudice, as a soil peculiarly
adapted, congenial, and, we may add, des
tined to the production of men of great
genius in our Art, we may not unreason
ably suspect that a portion of the great fame
of some of their late artists has been owing
to the general readiness and disposition of
mankind, to acquiesce in their original pre
possessions in favour of the productions of
the Roman School.
On this ground, however unsafe, I will
venture to prophesy, that two of the last dis
tinguished painters of that country, I mean
Pompeio Battoni and Raffaelle Mengs,
however great their names may at present
sound in our ears, will very soon fall into
the rank of Imperiale, Sebastian Concha,
Placido Constanza, Masuccio, and the rest
of their immediate predecessors ; whose
names, though equally renowned in their
life-time, are now fallen into what is little

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 1.51
short of total oblivion. I dp not say that
those painters were not superior to the
artist I allude to, and whose loss we lament,
in a certain routine of practice, which, to
the eyes of common observers, has the air
of a learned composition, and bears a sort
of superficial resemblance to the manner of
the great men who went before them. I
know this perfectly well ; but I know like
wise, that a man, looking for real and
lasting reputation, must unlearn much of
the common-place method so observable in
the works of the artists whom I have
named. For my own part, I confess, I
take more interest in, and am more cap
tivated with the powerful impression of
nature, which Gainsborough exhibited in
his portraits and in his landscapes, and the
interesting simplicity and elegance of his
little ordinary beggar-children, than with
any of the works of that School, since
the time of Andrea Sacchi, or perhaps we
may say Carlo Maratti ; two painters who
may truly be said to be Ultimi Ro-
manorum. I am well aware how much I lay myself
l 4

152 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
open to the censure and ridicule of the aca
demical professors of other nations, in pre
ferring the humble attempts of Gains
borough to the works of those regular gra
duates in the great historical style. But
we have the sanction of all mankind in
preferring genius in a lower rank of art, to
feebleness and insipidity in the highest.
It would not be to the present purpose,
even if I had the means and materials,
which I have not, to enter into the pri
vate life of Mr. Gainsborough. The his
tory of his gradual advancement, and the
means by which he acquired such excel
lence in his art, would come nearer to our
purposes and wishes, if it were by any
means attainable ; but the slow progress of
advancement is in general imperceptible to
the man himself who makes it ; it is the
consequence of an accumulation of various
ideas which his mind has received, he does
not perhaps know how or when. Some
times indeed it happens, that he may be
able to mark the time when from the sight
of a picture, a passage in an author, or a hint
in conversation, he has received, as it were,

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 15S
some new and guiding light, something like
inspiration, by which his mind has been ex
panded ; and is morally sure that his whole
life and conduct has been affected by that
accidental circumstance. Such interesting
accounts, we may however sometimes ob
tain from a man who has acquired an un
common habit of self-examination, and has
attended to the progress of his own im
provement. It may not be improper to make mention
of some of the customs and habits of thi?
extraordinary man ; points which come
more within the reach of an observer ; I
however mean such only as are connected
with his art, and indeed were, as I appre
hend, the causes of his arriving to that
high degree of excellence, which we see
and acknowledge in his works. Of these
causes we must state, as the fundamental,
the love which he had to his art ; to which,
indeed, his whole mind appears to have
been devoted, and to which every thing
was referred ; and this we may fairly con
clude from various circumstances of his
life, which were known to his intimate
3

154 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
friends. Among others he had a habit of
continually remarking to those who hap
pened to be about him whatever peculiarity
of countenance, whatever accidental combi
nation of figure, or happy effects of light and
shadow, occurred in prospects, in the sky,
in walking the streets, or in company. If,
in his walks, he found a character that he
liked, and whose attendance was to be ob
tained, he ordered him to his house: and
from the fields he brought into his painting-
room, stumps of trees, weeds, and animals
of various kinds ; and designed them, not
from memory, but immediately from the
objects. He even framed a kind of model
of landscapes on his table; composed of
broken stones, dried herbs, and pieces of
looking glass, which he magnified and im
proved into rocks, trees, and water. How
far this latter practice may be useful in giv
ing hints, the professors of landscape can
best determine. Like every other technical
practice, it seems to me wholly to depend
on the general talent of him who uses it.
Such methods may be nothing better than
contemptible and mischievous trifling; or
they may be aids. I think upon the whole,

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 155
unless we constantly refer to real nature,
that practice may be more likely to do harm
than good. I mention it only, as it shows
the solicitude and extreme activity which
he had about every thing that related to
his art ; that he wished to have his objects
embodied as it were, and distinctly before
him ; that he neglected nothing which
could keep his faculties in exercise, and
derived hints from every sort of combina
tion. We must not forget whilst we are on this
subject, to make some remarks on his cus
tom of painting by night, which confirms
what I have already mentioned, — his great
affection to his art; since he could not amuse
himself in the evening by any other means
so agreeable to himself. I am indeed much
inclined to believe that it is a practice very
advantageous and improving to an artist ;
for by this means he will acquire a new7
and a higher perception of what is great
and beautiful in Nature. By candle-light,
not only objects appear more beautiful,
but from their being in a greater breadth
of light and shadow, as well as having a

156 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
greater breadth and uniformity of colour,
nature appears in a higher style ; and even
the flesh seems to take a higher and richer
tone of colour. Judgement is to direct us
in the use to be made of this method of
study ; but the method itself is, I am very
sure, advantageous. I have often imagined
that the two great colourists, Titian and
Correggio, though I do not know that they
painted by night, formed their high ideas
of colouring from the effects of objects by
this artificial light : but I am more assured,
that whoever attentively studies the first
and best manner of Guercino, will be
convinced that he either painted by this
light, or formed his manner on this con
ception. Another practice Gainsborough had, which
is worth mentioning, as it is certainly worthy
of imitation ; I mean his manner of forming
all the parts of his picture together ; the
whole going on at the same time, in the
same manner as nature creates her works.
Though this method is not uncommon to
those who have been regularly educated, yet
probably it was suggested to him by his own

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 157
natural sagacity. That this custom is not
universal appears from the practice of a
painter whom I have just mentioned, Pom-
peio Battoni, who finished his historical
pictures part after part, and in his portraits
completely finished one feature before he
proceeded to another. The consequence
was, as might be expected; the countenance
was never well expressed ; and, as the
painters say, the whole was not well put
together. The first thing required to excel in our
art, or I believe in any art, is not only a
love for it, but even an enthusiastick ambi
tion to excel in it. This never fails of suc
cess proportioned to the natural abilities
with which the artist has been endowed by
Providence. Of Gainsborough, we cer-
tainly know, that his passion was not the
acquirement of riches, but excellence in
his art ; and to enjoy that honourable fame
which is sure to attend it. — That he felt
this ruling passion strong in death, I am
myself a witness. A few days before he
died, he wrote me a letter, to express his
acknowledgements for the good opinion I

158 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
entertained of his abilities, and the manner
in which (he had been informed) I always
spoke of him ; and desired he might see
me once more before he died. I am aware
how flattering it is to myself to be thus
connected with the dying testimony which
this excellent painter bore to his art. But
I cannot prevail on myself to suppress,
that I was not connected with him, by any
habits of familiarity : if any little jealousies
had subsisted between us, they were for
gotten, in those moments of sincerity ; and
he turned towards me as one, who was
engrossed by the same pursuits, and who
deserved his good opinion, by being sen
sible of his excellence. Without entering
into a detail of what passed at this last
interview, the impression of it upon my
mind was, that his regret at losing life, was
principally the regret of leaving his art ;
and more especially as he now began, he
said, to see what his deficiencies were;
which, he said, he flattered himself in
his last works were in some measure
supplied. When such a man as Gainsborough

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 159
arrives to great fame, without the assistance
of an academical education, without travel
ling to Italy, or any of those preparatory
studies which have been so often recom
mended, he is produced as an instance,
how little such studies are necessary ; since
so great excellence may be acquired with
out them. This is an inference not war
ranted by the success of any individual ;
and I trust it will not be thought that I
wish to make this use of it.
It must be remembered that the style
and department of art which Gainsborough
chose, and in which he so much excelled,
did not require that he should go out of
his own country for the objects of his
study ; they were every where about him ;
he found them in the streets, and in the
fields ; and from the models thus accident
ally found, he selected with great judge
ment such as suited his purpose. As his
studies were directed to the living world
principally, he did not pay a general atten
tion to the works of the various masters,
though they are, in my opinion, always of
great use, even when the character of our

160 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
subject requires us to depart from some of
their principles. It cannot be denied, that
excellence in the department of the art
which he professed may exist without
them ; that in such subjects, and in the
manner that belongs to them, the want of
them is supplied, and more than supplied,
by natural sagacity, and a minute observ
ation of particular nature. If Gainsborough
did not look at nature with a poet's eye, it
must be acknowledged that he saw her
with the eye of a painter ; and gave a
faithful, if not a poetical, representation of
what he had before him.
Though he did not much attend to the
works of the great historical painters of
former ages, yet he was well aware that the
language of the art — the art of imitation
— must be learned somewhere ; and as he
knew that he could not learn it in an equal
degree from his contemporaries, he very
judiciously applied himself to the Flemish
School, who are undoubtedly the greatest
masters of one necessary branch of art;
and he did not need to go out of his own
country for examples of that school : from

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 161
that he learnt the harmony of colouring, the
management and disposition of light and
shadow, and every means which the masters
of it practised, to ornament and give splen
dour to their works. And to satisfy him
self as well as others, how well he knew
the mechanism and artifice which they
employed to bring out that tone of colour
which we so much admired in their works,
he occasionally made copies from Rubens,
Teniers, and Vandyck, which it would be
no disgrace to the most accurate connois
seur to mistake, at the first sight, for the
works of those masters. What he thus
learned, he applied to the originals of
nature, which he saw with his own eyes ;
and imitated, not in the manner of those
masters, but in his own.
Whether he most excelled in portraits,
landscapes, or fancy-pictures, it is difficult
to determine : whether his portraits were
most admirable for exact truth of resem
blance, or his landscapes for a portrait-like
representation of nature, such as we see in
the works of Rubens, Ruysdaal, and others
of those schools. In his fancy-pictures,
VOL. II. m

162 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
when he had fixed on his object of imita
tion, whether it was the mean and vulgar
form of a wood-cutter, or a child of an
interesting character, as he did not attempt
to raise the one, so neither did he lose any
of the natural grace and elegance of the
other ; such a grace, and such an elegance,
as are more frequently found in cottages
than in courts. This excellence was his
own, the result of his particular observ
ation and taste ; for this he was certainly
not indebted to the Flemish School, nor
indeed to any School ; for his grace was
not academical or antique, but selected by
himself from the great school of nature ;
and there are yet a thousand modes of
grace, which are neither theirs, nor his,
but lie open in the multiplied scenes and
figures of life, to be brought out by skilful
and faithful observers.
Upon the whole, we may justly say, that
whatever he attempted he carried to a high
degree of excellence. It is to the credit
of his good sense and judgement, that he
never did attempt that style of historical

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 163
painting, for which his previous studies had
made no preparation.
And here it naturally occurs to oppose
the sensible conduct of Gainsborough, in
this respect, to that of our late excellent
Hogarth, who, with all his extraordinary
talents, was not blessed with this knowledge
of his own deficiency ; or of the bounds
which were set to the extent of his own
powers. After this admirable artist had
spent the greater part of his life in an
active, busy, and, we may add, successful
attention to the ridicule of life ; after he
had invented a new species of dramatic
painting, in which probably he will never
be equalled, and had stored his mind with
infinite materials to explain and illustrate
the domestic and familiar scenes of com
mon life, which were generally, and ought
to have been always, the subject of his
pencil; he very imprudently, or rather
presumptuously, attempted the great his
torical style, for which his previous habits
had by no means prepared him: he was
indeed so entirely unacquainted with the
principles of this style, that he was not
m 2

164 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
even aware that any artificial preparation
was at all necessary. It is to be regretted,
that any part of the life of such a genius
should be fruitlessly employed. Let
his failure teach us not to indulge our
selves in the vain imagination, that by
a momentary resolution we can give either
dexterity to the hand, or a new habit to
the mind.
I have, however, little doubt, but that
the same sagacity, which enabled those
two extraordinary men to discover their
true object, and the peculiar excellence
of that branch of art which they culti
vated, would have been equally effectual
in discovering the principles of the higher
style ; if they had investigated those
principles with the same eager industry
which they exerted in their own depart
ment. As Gainsborough never attempted
the heroick style, so neither did he destroy
the character and uniformity of his own
style, by the idle affectation of intro
ducing mythological learning in any of
his pictures. Of this boyish folly we see
instances enough, even in the works of great

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE- 165
painters. When the Dutch School attempt
this poetry of our art in their landscapes,
their performances are beneath criticism ;
they become only an object of laughter.
This practice is hardly excusable, even in
Claude Lorrain, who had shown more
discretion, if he had never meddled with
such subjects.
Our late ingenious Academician, Wilson,
has, I fear, been guilty, like many of his
predecessors, of introducing gods and god
desses, ideal beings, into scenes which
were by no means prepared to receive
such personages. His landscapes were in
reality too near common nature to admit
supernatural objects. In consequence of
this mistake, in a very admirable picture
of a storm, which I have seen of his hand,
many figures are introduced in the fore
ground, some in apparent distress, and
some struck dead, as a spectator would
naturally suppose, by the lightning ; had
not the painter injudiciously (as I think)
rather chosen that their death should be
imputed to a little Apollo, who appears in
the sky, with his bent bow, and that those
m 3

166 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
figures should be considered as the children
of Niobe.
To manage a subject of this kind, a pecu
liar style of art is required ; and it can only
be done without impropriety, or even with
out ridicule, when we adapt the character
of the landscape, and that too, in all its
parts, to the historical or poetical represent
ation. This is a very difficult adventure,
and it requires a mind thrown back two
thousand years, and as it were naturalized
in antiquity, like that of Nicolo Poussin,
to atchieve it. In the picture alluded to,
the first idea that presents itself is that of
wonder, at seeing a figure in so uncommon
a situation as that in which the Apollo is
placed ; for the clouds on which he kneels
have not the appearance of being able to
support him ; they have neither the sub
stance nor the form fit for the receptacle
of a human figure ; and they do not possess
in any respect that romantic character
which is appropriated to such an object,
and which alone, can harmonize with
poetical stories.

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 167
It appears to me, that such conduct is
no less absurd, than if a plain man, giving
a relation of a real distress, occasioned by
an inundation accompanied with thunder
and lightning, should, instead of simply
relating the event, take it into his head, in
order to give a grace to his narration, to
talk of Jupiter Pluvius, or Jupiter and his
thunder-bolts, or any other figurative idea ;
an intermixture which, though in poetry,
with its proper preparations and accom
paniments, it might be managed with effect,
yet in the instance before us would coun
teract the purpose of the narrator, and
instead of being interesting, would be only
ridiculous. The Dutch and Flemish style of land
scape, not even excepting those of Rubens,
is unfit for poetical subjects ; but to explain
in what this ineptitude consists, or to point
out all the circumstancess that give noble
ness, grandeur, and the poetick character,
to style, in landscape, would require a long
discourse of itself; and the end would be
then perhaps but imperfectly attained. The
painter who is ambitious of this perilous
m 4

168 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
excellence, must catch his inspiration from
those who have cultivated with success the
poetry, as it may be called, of the art ; and
they are few indeed.
I cannot quit this subject without men
tioning two examples which occur to me
at present, in which the poetical style of
landscape may be seen happily executed ;
the one is Jacob's Dream by Salvator Rosa,
and the other the Return of the Ark from
captivity, by Sebastian Bourdon.* With
whatever dignity those histories are pre
sented to us in the language of Scripture,
this style of painting possesses the same
power of inspiring sentiments of grandeur
and sublimity, and is able to communicate
them to subjects which appear by no means
adapted to receive them. A ladder against
the sky has no very promising appearance of
possessing a capacity to excite any heroick
ideas ; and the Arc, in the hands of a second-
rate master, would have little more effect
than a common waggon on the highway ;
* This fine picture was in our author's collection ;
and was bequeathed by him to Sir George Beaumont,
Bart. M. -•

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 169
yet those subjects are so poetically treated
throughout, the parts have such a corre
spondence with each other, and the whole
and every part of the scene is so visionary,
that it is impossible to look at them,
without feeling, in some measure, the en
thusiasm which seems to have inspired the
painters. By continual contemplation of such works,
a sense of the higher excellencies of art will
by degrees dawn on the imagination ; at
every review that sense will become more
and more assured, until we come to enjoy
a sober certainty of the real existence (if
I may so express myself) of those almost
ideal beauties ; and the artist will then find
no difficulty in fixing in his mind the princi
ples by which the impression is produced ;
which he will feel and practise, though
they are perhaps too delicate and refined,
and too peculiar to the imitative art, to be
conveyed to the mind by any other means.
To return to Gainsborough : the pecu
liarity of his manner, or style, or we may
call it — the language in which he expressed
ii

170 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
his ideas, has been considered by many as
his greatest defect. But without altogether
wishing to enter into the discussion —
whether this peculiarity was a defect or not,
intermixed, as it was, with great beauties,
of some of which it was probably the cause,
it becomes a proper subject of criticism and
enquiry to a painter.
A novelty and peculiarity of manner, as
it is often a cause of our approbation, so
likewise it is often a ground of censure ; as
being contrary to the practice of other
painters, in whose manner we have been
initiated, and in whose favour we have
perhaps been prepossessed from our infancy,
for, fond as we are of novelty, we are upon
the whole creatures of habit. However, it
is certain, that all those odd scratches and
marks, which on a close examination, are
so observable in Gainsborough's pictures,
and which even to experienced painters
appear rather the effect of accident than
design ; this chaos, this uncouth and
shapeless appearance, by a kind of magick,
at a certain distance assumes form, and all
the parts seem to drop into their proper

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 171
places, so that we can hardly refuse acknow
ledging the full effect of diligence, under
the appearance of chance and hasty negli
gence. That Gainsborough himself consi
dered this peculiarity in his manner, and
the power it possesses of exciting surprise,
as a beauty in his works, I think may be
inferred from the eager desire which we
know he always expressed, that his pic
tures, at the Exhibition, should be seen
near, as well as at a distance.
The slightness which we see in his
best works cannot always be imputed to
negligence. However they may appear to
superficial observers, painters know very
well that a steady attention to the general
effect takes up more time, and is much
more laborious to the mind, than any mode
of high finishing, or smoothness* without
such attention. His handling, the manner
of leaving the colours, or, in other words, the
methods he used for producing the effect,
had very much the appearance of the work
of an artist who had never learned from
others the usual and regular practice be
longing to the art ; but still, like a man of

172 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
strong intuitive perception of what was
required, he found out a way of his own to
accomplish his purpose.
It is no disgrace to the genius of Gains
borough, to compare him to such men as
we sometimes meet with, whose natural elo
quence appears even in speaking a language
which they can scarce be said to under
stand ; and who, without knowing the
appropriate expression of almost any one
idea, contrive to communicate the lively
and forcible impressions of an energetick
mind. I think some apology may reasonably be
made for his manner without violating truth,
or running any risk of poisoning the minds
of the younger students, by propagating false
criticism, for the sake of raising the charac
ter of a favourite artist. It must be allowed,
that this hatching manner of Gainsborough
did very much contribute to the lightness of
effect which is so eminent a beauty in his
pictures ; as on the contrary, much smooth
ness, and uniting the colours, is apt to pro
duce heaviness. Every artist must have

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 173
remarked, how often that lightness of hand
which was in his dead-colour, or first paint
ing, escaped in the finishing, when he had
determined the parts with more precision ;
and another loss he often experiences, which
is of greater consequence; whilst he is em
ployed in the detail, the effect of the whole
together is either forgotten or neglected.
The likeness of a portrait, as I have for
merly observed, consists more in preserving
the general effect of the countenance, than
in the most minute finishing of the features,
or any of the particular parts. Now Gains
borough's portraits were often little more, in
regard to finishing, or determining the form
of the features, than what generally attends
a dead colour ; but as he was always atten
tive to the general effect, or whole together,
I have often imagined that this unfinished
manner contributed even to that striking
resemblance for which his portraits are so
remarkable. Though this opinion may be
considered as fanciful, yet I think a plausi
ble reason may be given, why such a mode
of painting should have such an effect. It is
pre-supposed that in this undetermined man
ner there is the general effect ; enough to

174 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
remind the spectator of the original ; the
imagination supplies the rest, and perhaps
more satisfactory to himself, if not more
exactly, than the artist, with all his care,
could possibly have done. At the same
time it must be acknowledged there is
one evil attending this mode ; that if the
portrait were seen ; previous to any know
ledge of the original, different persons
would form different ideas, and all would
be disappointed at not finding the origi
nal correspond with their own concep
tions ; under the great latitude which in
distinctness gives to the imagination to
assume almost what character or form it
pleases. Every artist has some favourite part, on
which he fixes his attention, and which he
pursues with such eagerness, that it absorbs
every other consideration ; and he often
falls into the opposite error of that which
he would avoid, which is always ready to
receive him. Now Gainsborough having
truly a painter's eye for colouring, cultivated
those effects of the art which proceed from
colours; and sometimes appears to be indif-

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 175
ferent to or to neglect other excellencies.
Whatever defects are acknowledged, let
him still experience from us the same can
dour that we so freely give upon similar
occasions to the ancient masters ; let us not
encourage that fastidious disposition, which
is discontented with every thing short of
perfection, and unreasonably require, as we
sometimes do, a union of excellencies, not
perhaps quite compatible with each other.
— We may, on this ground, say even of the
divine Raffaelle, that he might have finish
ed his picture as highly and as correctly as
was his custom, without heaviness of man
ner ; and that Poussin might have pre
served all his precision without hardness or
dryness. To show the difficulty of uniting solidity
with lightness of manner, we may produce
a picture of Rubens in the church of St. Ju-
dule, at Brussels, as an example ; the sub
ject is, Chrisfs charge to Peter ; which, as
it is the highest, and smoothest, finished
picture I remember to have seen of that
master, so it is by far the heaviest ; and if
I had found it in any other place, I should

176 THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE.
have suspected it to be a copy ; for painters
know very well, that it is principally by this
air of facility, or the want of it, that origi
nals are distinguished from copies. — A
lightness of effect produced by colour, and
that produced by facility of handling, are
generally united ; a copy may preserve
something of the one, it is true, but hardly
ever of the other ; a connoisseur therefore
finds it often necessary to look carefully
into the picture before he determines on its
originality. Gainsborough possessed this
quality of lightness of manner and effect, I
think, to an unexampled degree of excel
lence ; but it must be acknowledged, at the
same time, that the sacrifice which he made
to this ornament of our art, was too great ;
it was, in reality, preferring the lesser ex
cellencies to the greater.
To conclude. However we may apolo
gize for the deficiencies of Gainsborough, (I
mean particularly his want of precision and
finishing,) who so ingeniously contrived to
cover his defects by his beauties ; and who
cultivated that department of art,where such
defects are more easily excused; you are

THE FOURTEENTH DISCOURSE. 177
to remember, that no apology can be made
for this deficiency, in that style which this
Academy teaches, and which ought to be the
object of your pursuit. It will be necessary
for you, in the first place, never to lose sight
of the great rules and principles of the art,
as they are collected from the full body of
the "best general practice, and the most
constant and uniform experience ; this must
be the ground-work of all your studies :
afterwards you may profit, as in this
case I wish you to profit, by the peculiar
experience and personal talents of artists
living and dead ; you may derive lights,
and catch hints, from their practice ; but
the moment you turn them into models,
you fall infinitely below them ; you may be
corrupted by excellencies, not so much be
longing to the art, as personal and appro
priated to the artist ; and become bad copies
of good painters, instead of excellent imi
tators of the great universal truth of things.

VOL. II. N

DISCOURSE XV.
DELIVERED TO THE STUDENTS OS
THE ROYAL ACADEMY,
ON THE
DISTRIBUTION OF THE PRIZES,
DECEMBER 10. 1790.

N 2

DISCOURSE XV.

THE PRESIDENT TAKES LEAVE OF THE ACADEMY.  A
REVIEW OF THE DISCOURSES.  THE STUDY OF THE
WORKS OF MICHAEL ANGELO RECOMMENDED.
G ENTLEMEN,
I he intimate connection which I have
had with the Royal Academy ever since its
establishment, the social duties in which we
have all mutually engaged for so many
years, make any profession of attachment
to this Institution, on my part, altogether
superfluous ; the influence of habit alone in
such a connection would naturally have
produced it.
Among men united in the same body,
and engaged in the same pursuit, along
with permanent friendship occasional differ
ences will arise. In these disputes men are
naturally too favourable to themselves, and
think perhaps too hardly of their antagonists.
But composed and constituted as we are,
n 3

182 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
those little contentions will be lost to
others, and they ought certainly to be lost
amongst ourselves in mutual esteem for
talents and acquirements : every contro
versy ought to be, and I am persuaded,
will be, sunk in our zeal for the perfection
of our common Art.
In parting with the Academy, I shall
remember with pride, affection, and grati
tude, the support with which I have almost
uniformly been honoured from the com
mencement of our intercourse. I shall
leave you Gentlemen, with unaffected
cordial wishes for your future concord, and
with a well-founded hope, that in that con
cord the auspicious and not obscure origin
of our Academy may be forgotten in
the splendour of your succeeding pro
spects. My age, and my infirmities still more than
my age, make it probable that this will be
the last time I shall have the honour of
addressing you from this place. Excluded
as I am, spatiis iniquis, from indulging my
imagination with a distant and forward

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 183
perspective of life, I may be excused if I
turn my eyes back on the way which I have
passed. We may assume to ourselves, I should
hope, the credit of having endeavoured, at
least, to fill with propriety that middle
station which we hold in the general con
nection of things. Our predecessors have
laboured for our advantage, we labour for
our successors ; and though we have done
no more in this mutual intercourse and
reciprocation of benefits, than has been
effected by other societies formed in this
nation for the advancement of useful
and ornamental knowledge, yet there is
one circumstance which appears to give us
an higher claim than the credit of merely
doing our duty. What I at present al
lude to, is the honour of having been,
some of us, the first contrivers, and all
of us the promoters and supporters, of
the annual Exhibition. This scheme could
only have originated from Artists already
in possession of the favour of the publick ;
as it would not have been so much in
the power of others to have excited
w 4

184 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
curiosity. It must be remembered, that
for the sake of bringing forward into
notice concealed merit, they incurred the
risk of producing rivals to themselves ; they
voluntarily entered the lists, and ran the
race a second time for the prize which they
had already won.
When we take a review of the several
departments of the Institution, I think we
may safely congratulate ourselves on our
good fortune in having hitherto seen the
chairs of. our Professors filled with men of
distinguished abilities, and who have so
well acquitted themselves of their duty
in their several departments. I look upon
it to be of importance, that none of them
should be ever left unfilled : a neglect to
provide for qualified persons, is to pro
duce a neglect of qualifications.
In this honourable rank of Professors, I
have not presumed to class myself; though
in the Discourses which I have had the
honour of delivering from this place, while
in one respect I may be considered as a

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 185
volunteer, in another view it seems as if I
Was involuntarily pressed into this service.
If prizes were to be given, it appeared not
only proper, but almost indispensably ne
cessary, that something should be said by
the President on the delivery of those
prizes : and the President for his own
credit would wish to say something more
than mere words of compliment, which,
by being frequently repeated, would soon
become flat and uninteresting, and- by
being uttered to many, would at last be
come a distinction to none : I thought,
therefore, if I were to preface this compli
ment with some instructive observations
on the Art, when we crowned merit in the
Artists whom we rewarded, I might do
something to' animate and guide them in
their future attempts.
I am truly sensible how unequal 1 have
been to the expression of my own ideas.
To develope the latent excellencies, and
draw out the interior principles, of our art,
requires more skill and practice in writing,
than is likely to be possessed by a man
perpetually occupied in the use of the

186 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
pencil and the pallet. It is for that reason,
perhaps, that the sister Art has had the
advantage of better criticism. Poets are
naturally writers of prose. They may be
said to be practising only an inferior departs
ment of their own art, when they are
explaining and expatiating upon its most
refined principles. But still such difficul
ties ought not to deter Artists who are not
prevented by other engagements, from
putting their thoughts in order as well as
they can, and from giving to the publick
the result of their experience. The know
ledge which an Artist has of his subject
will more than compensate for any want of
elegance in the manner of treating it, or
even of perspicuity, which is still more
essential ; and I am convinced that one
short essay written by a Painter, will con
tribute more to advance the theory of our
art, than a thousand volumes such as we
sometimes see; the purpose of which
appears to be rather to display the refine
ment of the Author's own conceptions of
impossible practice, than to convey useful
knowledge or instruction of any kind what
ever. An Artist knows what is, and what

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 187
is not, within the province of his art to
perform ; and is not likely to be for ever
teazing the poor Student with the beauties
of mixed passions, or to perplex him with
an imaginary union of excellencies incom
patible with each other.
To this work, however, I could not be
said to come totally unprovided with mate
rials. I had seen much, and I had thought
much upon what I had seen ; I had some
thing of an habit of investigation, and a
disposition to reduce all that I observed
and felt in my own mind, to method and
system ; but never having seen what I my
self knew, distinctly placed before me on
paper, I knew nothing correctly. To put
those ideas into something like order was,
to my inexperience, no easy task. The
composition, the ponere totum even of a
single Discourse, as well as of a single
statue, was the most difficult part, as per
haps it is of every other art, and most
requires the hand of a master.
For the manner, whatever deficiency there

183 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
was, I might reasonably expect indulgence ;
but I thought it indispensably necessary
well to consider the opinions which were
to be given out from this place, and under
the sanction of a Royal Academy ; I there
fore examined not only my own opinions,
but likewise the opinions of others. I found
in the course of this research, many precepts
and rules established in our art, which did
not seem to me altogether reconcileable
with each other, yet each seemed in itself
to have the same claim of being supported
by truth and nature ; and this claim, irre-
concileable as they may be thought, they
do in reality alike possess.
To clear away those difficulties, and
reconcile those contrary opinions, it became
necessary to distinguish the greater truth, as
it may be called, from the lesser truth ; the
larger and more liberal idea of nature from
the more narrow and confined ; that which
addresses itself to the imagination, from
that which is solely addressed to the eye.
In consequence of this discrimination, the
different branches of our art, to which those

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 189
different truths were referred, were per
ceived to make so wide a separation, and
put on so new an- appearance, that they
seemed scarcely to have proceeded from the
same general stock. The different rules
and regulations, which presided over each
department of art, followed of course :
every mode of excellence, from the grand
style of the Roman and Florentine Schools
down to the lowest rank of still life, had its
due weight and value, — fitted some class
or other ; and nothing was thrown away.
By this disposition of our art into classes,
that perplexity and confusion, which I
apprehend every Artist has at some time
experienced from the variety of styles, and
the variety of excellence with which he is
surrounded, is, I should hope, in some
measure removed, and the Student better
enabled to judge for himself, what pecu
liarly belongs to his own particular pursuit.
In reviewing my Discourses, it is no
small satisfaction to be assured that I have,
in no part of them, lent my assistance to
foster newly-hatched unfledged opinions, Or
endeavoured to support paradoxes, how-

190 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
ever tempting may have been their no
velty, or however ingenious I might, for
the minute, fancy them to be ; nor shall
I, I hope, any where be found .to have
imposed on the minds of young Students
declamation for argument, a smooth period
for a sound precept. I have pursued a
plain and honest method ; I have taken up
the art simply as I found it exemplified in
the practice of the most approved Painters.
That approbation which the world has uni
formly given, I have endeavoured to justify
by such proofs as questions of this kind
will admit ; by the analogy which Painting
holds with the sister Arts, and consequently
by the common congeniality which they all
bear to our nature. And though in what
has been done no new discovery is pre
tended, I may still flatter myself, that from
the discoveries which others have made by
their own intuitive good sense and native
rectitude of judgement, I have succeeded in
establishing the rules and principles of our
art on a more firm and lasting foundation
than that on which they had formerly been
placed.

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 191
Without wishing to divert the Student
from the practice of his Art to speculative
theory, to make him a mere Connoisseur
instead of a Painter, I cannot but remark,
that he will certainly find an account in
considering once for all, on what ground
the fabrick of our art is built. Uncertain,
confused, or erroneous opinions are not
only detrimental to an Artist in their
immediate operation, but may possibly
have very serious consequences; affect
his conduct, and give a peculiar character
(as it may be called) to his taste, and to
his pursuits, through his whole life.
I was acquainted at Rome in the early
part of my life, with a Student of the
French Academy, who appeared to me to
possess all the qualities requisite to make
a great Artist, ,if he had suffered his
taste and feelings, and I may add even his
prejudices, to have fair play. He saw
and felt the excellencies of the great
works of Art with which we were sur
rounded, but lamented that there was not
to be found that Nature which is so
admirable in the inferior schools ; and he

192 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
supposed with Felibien, Du Piles, and
other Theorists, that such an union of dif-<
ferent excellencies would be the perfection
of Art. He was not aware, that the narrow
idea of nature, of which he lamented the
absence in the works of those great Artists,
would have destroyed the grandeur of the
general ideas which he admired, and which
was indeed the cause of his admiration.
My opinions being then confused and
unsettled, I was in danger of being borne
down by this kind of plausible reasoning,
though I remember I then had a dawning
of suspicion that it was not sound doctrine ;
and at the same time I was unwilling
obstinately to refuse assent to what I was
unable to confute.
That the young Artist may not be seduced
from the right path, by following, what, at
first view, he may think the light of
Reason, and which is indeed Reason in
part, but not in the whole, has been much
the object of these Discourses.
I have taken every opportunity of recom
mending a rational method of study, as of
4

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 193
the last importance. The great, I may say
the sole use of an Academy is, to put, and
for some time to keep, Students in that
course, that too much indulgence may not
be given to peculiarity, and that a young
man may not be taught to believe, that
what is generally good for others is not
good for him.
I have strongly inculcated in my former
Discourses, as I do in this my last, the wis
dom and necessity of previously obtaining
the appropriated instruments of the Art, in
a first correct design, and a plain manly co
louring before any thing more is attempted.
But by this I would not wish to cramp and
fetter the mind, or discourage those who
follow (as most of us may at one time have
followed) the suggestion of a strong inclina
tion : something must be conceded to great
and irresistible impulses : perhaps every
Student must not be strictly bound to ge
neral methods, if they strongly thwart the
peculiar turn of his own mind. I must
confess that it is not absolutely of much
consequence, whether he proceeds in the
general method of seeking first to acquire
VOL. II. o

19* THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
mechanical accuracy, before he attempts
poetical flights, provided he diligently stu
dies to attain the full perfection of the style
he pursues; whether like Parmegiano, he
endeavours at grace and grandeur of man
ner before he has learned correctness of
drawing, if like him he feels his own wants,
and will labour, as that eminent artist did,
to supply those wants ; whether he starts
from the East or from the West, if he re
laxes in no exertion to arrive ultimately at
the same goal. The first publick work of
Parmegiano is the St. Eustachius, in the
church of St. Petronius in Bologna, and
was done when he was a boy ; and one of
the last of his works is the Moses breaking
the tables, in Parma. In the former there
is certainly something of grandeur in the
outline, or in the conception of the figure,
which discovers the dawnings of future
greatness; of a young mind impregnated
with the sublimity of Michael Angelo,
whose style he here attempts to imitate,
though he could not then draw the human
figure with any common degree of correct
ness. But this same Parmegiano, when in
his more mature age he painted the Moses,

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 195
had so completely supplied his first defects,
that we are here at a loss which to admire
most, the correctness of drawing, or the
grandeur of the conception. As a confirm
ation of its great excellence, and of the
impression which it leaves on the minds of
elegant spectators, I may observe, that our
great Lyrick Poet, when he conceived his
sublime idea of the indignant Welch bard,
acknowledged, that though many years had
intervened, he had warmed his imagination
with the remembrance of this noble figure
of Parmegiano.
When we consider that Michael Angelo
was the great archetype to whom Parmegi
ano was indebted for that grandeur which
we find in his works, and from whom all his
contemporaries and successors have derived
whatever they have possessed of the dig
nified and the majestick ; that he was the
bright luminary, from whom Painting has
borrowed a new lustre; that under his hands
it assumed a new appearance, and is become
another and superior art; I may be excused
if I take this opportunity, as I have hitherto
taken every occasion, to turn your attention
o 2

196 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
to this exalted Founder and Father of
Modern Art, of which he was not only
the inventor, but which, by the divine
energy of his own mind, he carried at once
to its highest point of possible perfection.
The sudden maturity to which Michael
Angelo brought our Art, and the compara
tive feebleness of his followers and imita
tors, might perhaps be reasonably, at least
plausibly explained, if we had time for such
an examination. At present I shall only
observe, that the subordinate parts of our
Art, and perhaps of other Arts, expand
themselves by a slow and progressive
growth; but those which depend on a
native vigour of imagination generally
burst forth at once in fulness of beauty.
Of this Homer probably, and Shakspeare
more assuredly, are signal examples. Mi
chael Angelo possessed the poetical part
of our art in a most eminent degree : and
the same daring spirit, which urged him
first to explore the unknown regions of the
imagination, delighted with the novelty,
and animated by the success of his disco
veries, could not have failed to stimulate

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 197
and impel Iiim forward in his career beyond
those limits, which his followers, destitute
of the same incentives, had not strength to
pass. To distinguish between correctness of
drawing, and that part which respects the
imagination, we may say the one approaches
to the mechanical, (which in its way too
may make just pretensions to genius,) and
the other to the poetical. To encourage a
solid and vigorous course of study, it may
not be amiss to suggest, that perhaps a
confidence in the mechanick produces a
boldness in the poetick. He that is sure
of the goodness of his ship and tackle puts
out fearlessly from the shore ; and he who
knows that his hand can execute whatever
his fancy can suggest, sports with more
freedom in embodying the visionary forms
of his own creation. I will not say Michael
Angelo was eminently poetical, only be
cause he was greatly mechanical ; but I am
sure that mechanick excellence invigorated
and emboldened his mind to carry painting
into the regions of poetry, and to emulate
o S

198 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
that art in its most adventurous flights.
Michael Angelo equally possessed both
qualifications. Yet of mechanick excel
lence there were certainly great examples
to be found in Ancient Sculpture, and par
ticularly in the fragment known by the
name of the Torso of Michael Angelo ;
but of that grandeur of character, air, and
attitude, which he threw into all his figures,
and which so well corresponds with the
grandeur of his outline, there was no ex
ample ; it could therefore proceed only
from the most poetical and sublime ima
gination. It is impossible not to express some sur
prise, that the race of Painters who pre
ceded Michael Angelo, men of acknow
ledged great abilities, should never have
thought of transferring a little of that
grandeur of outline which they could not
but see and admire in Ancient Sculpture,
into their own works ; but they appear to
have considered Sculpture as the later
Schools of Artists look at the inventions
of Michael Angelo,- — as something to be
admired, but with which they have nothing

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 199
to do : quod super nos, nihil ad nos. — The
Artists of that age, even Raffaelle himself,
seemed to be going on very contentedly in
the dry manner of Pietro Perugino ; and if
Michael Angelo had never appeared, the
Art might still have continued in the same
style. Beside Rome and Florence, where the
grandeur of this style was first displayed, it
was on this Foundation that the Caracci
built the truly great Academical Bolognian,
school, of which the first stone was laid by
Pellegrino Tibaldi. He first introduced this
style amongst them ; and many instances
might be given in which he appears to
have possessed as by inheritance, the true,
genuine, noble and elevated mind of Mi
chael Angelo. Though we cannot venture
to speak of him with the same fondness
as his countrymen, and call him, as the
Caracci did, Nostro Michael Angelo rifor-
mato, yet he has a right to be considered
amongst the first and greatest of his fol
lowers : there are certainly many drawings
and inventions of his, of which Michael
Angelo himself might not disdain to be
# o 4

»

200 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
supposed the author, or that they should
be, as in fact they often are, mistaken for
his. I will mention one particular instance
because it is found in a book which is
in every young Artist's hand ; — Bishop's
Ancient Statues. He there has introduced
a print, representing Polyphemus, from a
drawing of Tibaldi, and has inscribed it
with the name of Michael Angelo, to
whom he has also in the same book attri
buted a Sybil of Raffaelle. Both these
figures, it is true, are professedly in
Michael Angelo's style and spirit, and
even worthy of his hand. But we know
that the former is painted in the Institute a
Bologna by Tibaldi, and the other in the
Pace by Raffaelle.

The Caracci, it is acknowledged, adopted
the mechanical part with sufficient success.
But the divine part which addresses itself to
the imagination, as possessed by Michael
Angelo or Tibaldi, was beyond their grasp :
they formed however, a most respectable
school, a style more on the level, and calcu
lated to please a greater number; and if
excellence of this kind is to be valued

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 201
according to the number, rather than the
weight and quality of admirers, it would
assume even a higher rank in Art. The
same, in some sort, may be said of Tintoret,
Paolo Veronese, and others of the Venetian
Painters. They certainly much advanced the
dignity of their style by adding to their
fascinating powers of colouring something
of the strength of Michael. Angelo ; at the
same time it may still be a doubt, how far
their ornamental elegance would be an
advantageous addition to his grandeur.
But if there is any manner of Painting
which may be said to unite kindly with his
style, it is that of Titian. His handling,
the manner in which his colours are left
on the canvass, appears to proceed (as far
as that goes) from a congenial mind, equally
disdainful of vulgar criticism.
Michael Angelo's strength thus qua
lified, and made more palatable to the
general taste, reminds me of an observation
which I heard a learned critick* make,
when it was incidentally remarked, that our
translation of Homer, however excellent,
* Dr. Johnson.

202 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
did not convey the character, nor had the
grand air of the original. He replied, that
if Pope had not cloathed the naked Majesty
of Homer with the graces and elegancies
of modern fashions, — though • the real
dignity of Homer was degraded by such a
dress, his translation would not have met
with such a favourable receptiop, and he
must have been con tented with fewer readers.
Many of the Flemish painters, who
studied at Rome in that great era of our
art, such as Francis Rloris, Hemskerk,
Michael Coxis, Jerom Cock, and others,
returned to their own country with as
much of this grandeur as they could carry.
But like seeds falling on a soil not pre
pared or adapted to their nature, the man
ner of Michael Angelo thrived but little
with them ; perhaps, however, they contri
buted to prepare the way for that free,
unconstrained, and liberal outline, which
was afterwards introduced by Rubens,
through the medium of the Venetian
Painters. The grandeur of style has been in dif-

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE 203
ferent degrees disseminated over all Europe.
Some caught it by living at the time, and
coming into contact with the original author,
whilst others received it at second hand; and
being every where adopted, it has totally
changed the whole taste and style of design,
if there could be said to be any style before
his time. Our art, in consequence, now
assumes a rank to which it could never have
dared to aspire, if Michael Angelo had not
discovered to the world the hidden powers
which it possessed. Without his assist
ance we never could have been con
vinced, that Painting was capable of pro
ducing an adequate representation of the
persons and actions of the heroes of the
Iliad. I would ask any man qualified to judge of
such works, whether he can look with indif
ference at the personification of the Supreme
Being in the centre of the Capella Sestina,
or the figures of the Sybils which surround
that chapel, to which we may add the statue
of Moses ; and whether the same sensations
are not excited by those works, as what he
may remember to have felt from the most

204 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
sublime passages of Homer? I mention
those figures more particularly, as they
come nearer to a comparison with his
Jupiter, his demi-gods, and heroes ; those
Sybils and Prophets being a kind of inter
mediate beings between men and angels.
Though instances may be produced in the
works of other Painters, which may justly
stand in competition with those I have
mentioned, such as the Isaiah, and the
vision of Ezekiel, by Raffaelle, the St.
Mark of Fr.ate Bartolomeo, and many
others; yet these, it must be allowed, are
inventions so much in Michael Angelo's
manner of thinking, that they may be truly
considered as so many rays, which discover
manifestly the centre from whence they
emanated. The sublime in Painting, as in Poetry, so
overpowers, and takes such a possession of
the whole mind, that no room is left for
attention to minute criticism. The little
elegancies of art in the presence of these
great ideas thus greatly expressed, lose all
their value, and are, for the instant at least,
felt to be unworthy of our notice. The

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 205
correct judgment, the purity of taste, which
characterise Raffaelle, the exquisite grace
of Correggio and Parmegiano, all disappear
before them.
That Michael Angelo was capricious in
his inventions, cannot be denied ; and this
may make some circumspection necessary
in studying his works ; for though they
appear to become him, an imitation of
them is always dangerous, and will prove
sometimes ridiculous. " Within that circle
none durst walk but he." To me, I confess
his caprice does not lower the estimation
of his genius, even though it is sometimes,
I acknowledge, carried to the extreme :
and however those eccentrick excursions
are considered, we must at the same time
recollect that those faults, if they are faults,
are such as never could occur to a mean
and vulgar mind ; that they flowed from
the same source which produced his great
est beauties, and were therefore such as
none but himself was capable of commit
ting : they were the powerftil impulses of
a mind unused to subjection of any kind,

206 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
and too high to be controlled by cold
criticism. Many see his daring extravagance, who
can see nothing else. A young Artist
finds the works of Michael Angelo so
totally different from those of his own mas
ter, or of those with whom he is surrounded,
that he may be easily persuaded to abandon
and neglect studying a style, which appears
to him wild, mysterious, and above his
comprehension, and which he therefore
feels no disposition to admire ; a good
disposition, which he concludes that he
should naturally have," if the style deserved
it. It is necessary therefore, that students
should be prepared for the disappointment
which they may experience at their first
setting out ; and they must be cautioned,
that probably they will not, at first sight,
approve. It must be remembered, that this great
style itself is artificial in the highest degree,
it presupposes in the spectator, a cultivated
and prepared artificial state of mind. It

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 207
is an absurdity therefore, to suppose that
we are born with this taste, though we are
with the seeds of it, which, by the heat
and kindly influence of his genius, may be
ripened in us.
A late Philosopher and Critick * has
observed, speaking of taste, that we are on
no account to expect that fine things should
descend to us — our taste, if possible, must
be made to ascend to them. The same
learned writer recommends to us even to
feign a relish, till we find a relish come ; and
feel, that what began in fiction, terminates in
reality. If there be in our Art any thing
of that agreement or compact, such as I
apprehend there is in musick, with which
the Critick is necessarily required previ
ously to be acquainted, in order to form
a correct judgment : the comparison with
this art will illustrate what I have said on
these points, and tend to show the proba
bility, we may say the certainty, that men
are not born with a relish for those arts in
their most refined state, which as they
* James Harris, Esq. R.

208 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
cannot understand, they cannot be im
pressed with their effects. This great style
of Michael Angelo is as far removed from
the simple representation of the common
objects of nature, as the most refined Italian
musick is from the inartificial notes of
nature, from whence they both profess to
originate. But without such a supposed
compact, we may be very confident that the
highest state of refinement in either of those
arts will not be relished without a long and
industrious attention.
In pursuing this great Art, it must be
acknowledged that we labour under greater
difficulties than those who were born in the
age of its discovery, and whose minds from
their infancy were habituated to this style ;
who learned it as language, as their mother
tongue. They had no mean taste to un
learn ; they needed no persuasive discourse
to allure them to a favourable reception of
it, no abstruse investigation of its principles
to convince them of the great latent truths
on which it is founded. We are constrained,
in these latter days, to have recourse to a
sort of Grammar and Dictionary, as the

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 209
only means of recovering a dead language.
It was by them learned by rote, and
perhaps better learned that way than by
precept. The style of Michael Angelo, which I
have compared to language, and which may,
poetically speaking, be called the language
of the Gods, now no longer exists, as it did
in the fifteenth century ; yet, with the aid
of diligence, we may in a great measure
supply the deficiency which I mentioned,
— of not having his works so perpetually
before our eyes, — by having recourse to
casts from his models and designs in Sculp
ture ; to drawings, or even copies of those
drawings ; to prints, which, however ill
executed, still convey something by which
this taste may be formed, and a relish may
be fixed and established in our minds for
this grand style of invention. Some
examples of this kind we have in the Aca
demy; and I sincerely wish there were
more, that the younger students might in
their first nourishment imbibe this taste ;
whilst others, though settled in the practice
of the common -place style of Painters,
vol. ii. p

210 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
might infuse, by this means, a grandeur
into their works!
I shall now make some remarks on the
course which I think most proper to be
pursued in such a study. I wish you not
to go so much to the derivative streams,
as to the fountain-head ; though the copies
are not to be neglected ; because they may
give you hints in what manner you may
copy, and how the genius of one man
may be made to fit the peculiar manner of
another. To recover this lost taste, I would
recommend young Artists to study the
works of Michael Angelo, as he himself
did the works of the ancient Sculptors ;
he began when a child, a copy of a
mutilated Satyr's head, and finished in
his model what was wanting in the original.
In the same manner, the first exercise that
I would recommend to the young artist
when lie first attempts invention, is, to
select every figure, if possible, from the
inventions of Michael Angelo. If 'such
borrowed figures will not bend to his

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 211
purpose, and he is constrained to make a
change to supply a figure himself, that
figure will necessarily be in the same
style with the rest ; and his taste will by
this means be naturally initiated, and nursed
in the lap of grandeur. He will sooner
perceive what constitutes this grand style
by one practical trial than by a thousand
speculations, and he will in some sort pro
cure to himself that advantage which in
these later ages has been* denied him ; the
advantage of having the greatest of Artists
for his master and instructor.
The next lesson should be, to change
the purpose of the figures without chang
ing the attitude, as Tintoret «has done with
the Sampson of Michael Angelo. Instead
of the figure which Sampson bestrides, he
has placed an eagle under him ; and
instead of the jaw-bone, thunder and
lightning in his right hand ; and thus it
becomes a Jupiter. Titian, in the same
manner, has taken the figure which repre
sents God dividing the light from the
darkness in the vault of the Capella Ses-
tina, and has introduced it in the famous
p 2

212 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
battle of Cadore, so much celebrated by
Vasari ; and extraordinary as it may seem,
it is here converted to a general, falling
from his horse. A real judge who should
look at this picture, would immediately pro
nounce the attitude of that figure to be in
a greater style than any other figure of the
composition. These two instances may be
sufficient, though many more might be
given in their works, as well as in those of
other great Artists.
When the Student has been habituated
to this grand conception of the Art, when
the relish for this style is established,
makes a part of himself, and is woven
into his mind, he will, by this time,
have got a power of selecting from what
ever occurs in nature that is grand, and
corresponds with that taste which he has
now acquired ; and will pass over whatever
is common-place, and insipid. He may
then bring to the mart such works of his
own proper invention as may enrich and
increase the general stock of invention in
our Art.

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 213
I am confident of the truth and propriety
of the advice which I have recommended ;
at the same time I am aware, how much by
this advice I have laid myself open to the
sarcasms of those criticks who imagine our
Art to be a matter of inspiration. But I
should be sorry it should appear even to
myself that I wanted that courage which
I have recommended to the Students in
another way : equal courage perhaps is
required in the adviser and the advised ;
they both must equally dare and bid
defiance to narrow criticism and vulgar
opinion. That the Art has been in a gradual state
of decline, from the age of Michael Angelo
to the present, must be acknowledged ; and
we may reasonably impute this declension
to the same cause to which the ancient
Criticks and Philosophers have imputed the
corruption of eloquence. Indeed the same
causes are likely at all times and in all ages
to produce the same effects : indolence, —
not taking the same pains as our great pre
decessors took, — desiring to find a shorter
way, — are the general imputed causes.
p 3

214 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
The words of Petronius * are very remark
able. After opposing the natural chaste
beauty of the eloquence of former ages to
the strained inflated style then in fashion,
" neither," says he, " has the Art in Paint-
" ing had a better fate, after the boldness
" of the Egyptians had found out a com-
" pendious way to execute so great an

«

art.

5?

By compendious, I understand him to
mean a mode of Painting, such as has
infected the style of the later Painters of
Italy and France ; common-place, without
thought, and with as little trouble, working
as by a receipt; in contra-distinction to
that style for which even a relish cannot be
acquired without care and long attention,
and most certainly the power of executing
cannot be obtained without the most labo
rious application.
I have endeavoured to stimulate the
ambition of- Artists to tread in this great
* Pictura quoque non aliqm exitum fecit, postquam
/Egyptiorum audacia tam magnae artis compendiariam
invenit. R.

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 215
path of glory, and, as well as I can, have
pointed out the track which leads to it, and
have at the same time told them the price
at which it may be obtained. It is an
ancient saying, that labour is the price
which the Gods have set upon every thing
valuable. The great Artist who has been so much
the subject of the present Discourse, was
distinguished even from his infancy for his
indefatigable diligence ; and this was con
tinued through his whole life, till prevented
by extreme old age. The poorest of men,
as he observed himself, did not labour from
necessity, more than he did from choice.
Indeed, from all the circumstances related
of his life, he appears not to have had the
least conception that his art was to be
acquired by any other means than great
labour; and yet he, of all men that ever
lived, might make the greatest pretensions
to the efficacy of native genius and inspir
ation. I have no doubt that he would have
thought it no disgrace, that it should be
said of him, as he himself said of Raffaelle,
that he did not possess his art from nature*
p 4

216 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
but by long study.* He was conscious
that the great excellence to which he
arrived was gained by dint of labour, and
was unwilling to have it thought that any
transcendent skill, however natural its
effects might seem, could be purchased at a
cheaper price than he had paid for it. This
seems to have been the true drift of his
observation. We cannot suppose it made
with any intention of depreciating the
genius of Raffaelle, of whom he always
spoke, as Condivi says, with the greatest
respect : though they were rivals, no such
illiberality existed between them ; and Raf
faelle on his part entertained the greatest
veneration for Michael Angelo, as appears
from the speech which is recorded of him,
that he congratulated himself, and thanked
God, that he was born in the same age
with that painter.
If the high esteem and veneration in
which Michael Angelo has been held by all
nations and in all ages, should be put to the
account of prejudice, it must still be granted
* Che Raffaelle non ebbe quest arte da natura, ma per
longo studio. R.

THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE. 217
that those prejudices could not have been
entertained without a cause : the ground of
our prejudice then becomes the source of
our admiration. But from whatever it pro
ceeds, or whatever it is called, it will not,
I hope, be thought presumptuous in me to
appear in the train, I cannot say of his imi
tators, but of his admirers. I have taken
another course, one more suited to my
abilities, and to the taste of the times in
which I live. Yet however unequal I
feel myself to that attempt, were I now
to begin the world again, I would tread
in the steps of that great master: to kiss
the hem of his garment, to catch the
slightest of his perfections, would be glory
and distinction enough for an ambitious
man. I feel a self-congratulation in knowing
myself capable of such sensations as he
intended to excite. I reflect, not without
vanity, that these Discourses bear testimony
of my admiration of that truly divine man ;
and I should desire that the last words which
I should pronounce in this Academy, and

218 THE FIFTEENTH DISCOURSE.
from this place, might be the name of —
Michael Angelo.*
* Unfortunately for mankind, these were the last
words pronounced by this great Painter from the Aca
demical chair. He died about fourteen months -after
this Discourse was delivered. M.

THE END OF THE DISCOURSES.

THREE LETTERS

TO

THE IDLER.

THE IDLER.

Numb. 76. Saturday, September 29. 1759.
TO THE IDLER.
SIR,
I was much pleased with your ridicule of
those shallow Criticks, whose judgement,
though often right as far as it goes, yet
reaches only to inferior beauties ; and who,
unable to comprehend the whole, judge
only by parts, and from thence determine
the merit of extensive works. But there
is another kind of Critick still worse, who
judges by narrow rules, and those too often
false, and which though they should be
true, and founded on nature, will lead him
but a very little way towards the just esti
mation of the sublime beauties in works of
Genius ; for whatever part of an art can be
executed or criticised by rules, that part is
no longer the work of Genius, which im-

222 THE IDLER.
plies excellence out of the reach of rules.
./"For my own part, I profess myself an Idler,
and love to give my judgement, such as it
is, from my immediate perceptions, with
out much fatigue of thinking ; and I am of
opinion, that if a man has not those per
ceptions right, it will be vain for him to
endeavour to supply their place by rules ;
which may enable him to talk more learn
edly, but not to distinguish more acutely.
Another reason which has lessened my
affection for the study of Criticism is, that
Criticks, so far as I have observed, debar
themselves from receiving any pleasure
from the polite arts, at the same time that
they profess to love and admire them : for
these rules being always uppermost, give
them such a propensity to criticise, that
instead of giving up the reins of their
imagination into their author's hands, their
frigid minds are employed in examining
whether the performance be according to
the rules of art.
To those who are resolved to be Criticks
in spite of nature, and at the same time
have no great disposition to much reading
4

THE IDLER. 223
and study, I would recommend to assume
the character of Connoisseur, which may
be purchased at a much cheaper rate than
that of a Critick in poetry. The remem
brance of a few names of Painters, with
their general characters, and a few rules
of the Academy, which they may pick
up among the Painters, will go a great
way towards making a very notable Con
noisseur. With a Gentleman of this cast, I visited
last week the Cartoons at Hampton-Court ;
he was just returned from Italy, a Connois
seur, of course, and of course his mouth
full of nothing but the Grace of Raffaelle,
the Purity of Domenichino, the Learning
of Poussin, the Air of Guido, the great
ness of Taste of the Caraccis, and the
Sublimity and grand Contorno of Michael
Angelo ; with all the rest of the cant of
Criticism, which he emitted with that
volubility which generally those orators
have, who annex no ideas to their words.
As we were passing through the rooms,
in our way to the Gallery, I made him

224 THE IDLER.
observe a whole length of Charles the
First, by Vandyck, as a perfect represent
ation of the character as well as the figure
of the man : He agreed it was very fine,
but it wanted spirit and contrast, and
had not the flowing line, without which
a figure could not possibly be graceful.
When we entered the Gallery, I thought
I could perceive him recollecting his
Rules by which he was to criticise Raffa
elle. I shall pass over his observation
of the boats being too little, and other
criticisms of that kind, till we arrived at
St. Paul preaching. " This," says he, " is
esteemed the most excellent of all the
Cartoons : what nobleness, what dignity
there is in, that figure of St. Paul ! and
yet what an addition to that nobleness
could Raffaelle have given, had the art
of Contrast been known in his time; but
above all, the flowing line, which con
stitutes Grace and Beauty. You would
not then have seen an upright figure
standing equally on both legs, and both
hands stretched forward in the same di
rection, and his drapery, to all appear
ance, without the least art of disposition."

THE IDLER. 225
The following Picture is the Charge to
Peter. " Here," says he, " are twelve
upright figures ; what a pity it is that
Raffaelle was not acquainted with the py
ramidal principle ; he would then have
contrived the figures in the middle to have
been on higher ground, or the figures at
the extremities stooping or lying ; which
would not only have formed the group
into the shape of a pyramid, but like
wise contrasted the standing figures. In
deed," added he, " I have often lamented
that so great a genius 4as Raffaelle had
not lived in this enlightened age, since
the art has been reduced to principles,
and had his education in one of the
modern Academies; what glorious works
might we then have expected from his
divine pencil !"
I shall trouble you no longer with my
friend's observations, which, I suppose,
you are now able to continue by yourself.
It is curious to observe, that at the same
time that great admiration is pretended for
a name of fixed reputation, objections are
vol. ii. q.

226 THE IDLER.
raised against those very qualities by which
that great name was acquired.
These Criticks are continually lamenting
that Raffaelle had not the Colouring and
Harmony of Rubens, or the Light and
Shadow of Rembrandt, without consider
ing how much the gay harmony of the
former, and affectation of the latter, would
take from, the Dignity of Raffaelle ; and
yet Rubens had great Harmony, and Rem
brandt understood Light and Shadow ; but
what may be an excellence in a lower class
of Painting, becomes a blemish in a
whigher ; as the quick, sprightly turn, which
is the life and beauty of epigrammatick
compositions, would but ill suit with the
majesty of heroick Poetry.
To conclude ; I would not be thought to
infer from any thing that has been said, that
Rules are absolutely unnecessary, but to
censure scrupulosity, a servile attention to
(minute exactness, which is sometimes
inconsistent with higher excellence, and is
lost in the blaze of expanded genius.

THE IDLER. 227
I do not know whether you will think
Painting a general subject. By inserting
this letter, perhaps you. will incur the cen
sure a man would deserve, whose business
being to entertain a whole room, should
turn his back on the company, and talk to
a particular person. I am, Sir, &c.

q 2

Numb. 79. Saturday, October 20. 1759.

TO THE IDLER.
SIR,
Your acceptance of a former letter on
Painting, gives me encouragement to offer
a few more sketches on the same subject.
Amongst the Painters and the writers
on Painting, there is one maxim univer
sally admitted and continually inculcated.
Imitate • Nature, is the invariable rule ;
but I know none who have explained
in what manner this rule is to be un
derstood ; the consequence of which is,
that every one takes it in the most ob
vious sense, — that objects are represented
naturally, when they have such relief that
they seem real. It may appear strange,
perhaps, to hear this sense of the rule
disputed ; but it must be considered,
that if the excellency of a Painter con-
q 3

2S0 THE IDLER.
sisted only in this kind of imitation, Paint
ing must lose its rank, and be no longer
considered as a liberal art, and sister to
Poetry; this imitation being merely me
chanical, in which the slowest intellect is
always sure to succeed best; for the Painter
of genius cannot stoop to drudgery, in
which the understanding has no part ; and
what pretence has the art to claim kindred
with Poetry, but by its power over the ima
gination ? To this power the Painter of
genius directs his aim ; in this sense he
studies Nature, and often arrives at his end,
even by being unnatural, in the confined
sense of the word.
, The grand style of Painting requires this
minute attention to be carefully avoided,
and must be kept as separate from it as
the style of Poetry from that of History.
Poetical ornaments destroy that air of
truth and plainness which ought to cha
racterise History; but the very being of
Poetry consists in departing from this plain
narration, (^and adopting every ornament
that will warm the imagination^ To de
sire to see the excellencies of each style

THE IDLER. 231
united, to mingle the Dutch with the
Italian School, is to join contrarieties which
cannot subsist together, and which destroy
the efficacy of each other. The Italian \
attends only to the invariable, the great
and general ideas which are fixed and in
herent in universal Nature ; the Dutch, on
the contrary, to literal truth and a minute
exactness in the detail, as I may say, of
Nature modified by accident^ The atten- •¦/
tion to these petty peculiarities is the very
cause of this naturalness so much admired
in the Dutch pictures, which, if we suppose
it to be a beauty, is certainly of a lower
order, that ought to give place to a beauty ,
of a superior kind, since one cannot be
obtamedjjut by departing from the other.
If my opinion were asked concerning the
works of Michael Angelo, whether they
would receive any advantage from possess
ing this mechanical merit, I should not
scruple to say, they would lose, in a great
measure, the effect which they now have
on every mind susceptible of great and
noble ideas. "" His works may be said to be
all genius, and soul ; and, why should they
Q 4

232 THE IDLER.
be loaded with heavy matter, which can
only counteract his purpose by retarding
the progress of the imagination?
If this opinion should be thought one of
the wild extravagances of enthusiasm, I
shall only say, that those who censure it
, are not conversant in the works of the great
Masters. It is very difficult to determine
the exact degree of enthusiasm that the
arts of Painting and Poetry may admit.
There may perhaps be too great an indul
gence, as well as too great a restraint of
imagination ; and if the one produces
incoherent monsters, the other produces
what is full as bad, lifeless insipidity. y An
intimate knowledge of the passions and
good sense, but not common sense, must
at last determine its limits. It has been
thought, and I believe with reason, that
Michael Angelo sometimes transgressed
those limits ; and I think I have seen figures
by him, of which it was very difficult to
determine, whether they were in the high
est degree sublime or extremely ridiculous.
Such faults may be said to be the ebullition
of Genius ; but at least he had this merit,

THE IDLER. 233
that he never was insipid; and whatever
passion his works may excite, they will
always escape contempt.
What I have had under consideration is
the sublimest style, particularly that of
Michael Angelo, the Homer of Painting.
Other kinds may admit of this naturalness,
which of the lowest kind is the chief
merit; but in Painting, as in Poetry,
the highest style has the least of common \
nature. One may safely recommend a little more
enthusiasm to the modern Painters; too
much is certainly not the vice of the present
age. The Italians seem to have been con
tinually declining in this respect from the
time of Michael Angelo to that of Carlo
Maratti, and from thence to the very pathos
of insipidity to which they are now sunk ;
so that there is no need of remarking,
that where I mentioned the Italian Painters
in opposition to the Dutch, I mean not
the moderns, but the heads of the old
Roman and Bolognian Schools ; nor did
I mean to include in my idea of an

234 THE IDLER.
Italian Painter, the Venetian School, which
may be said to be the Dutch part of the
Italian Genius. I have only to add a word
of advice to the Painters, — that how
ever excellent they may be in Painting
naturally, they would not flatter themselves
very much upon it ; and to the Connois
seurs, that when they see a cat or a fiddle
painted so finely, that as the phrase is, it
looks as if you could take it up, they would
not for that reason immediately compare
the Painter to Raffaelle and Michael
Angelo.

Numb. 82. Saturday, November 10. 1759-

TO THE IDLER.
SIR,
Discoursing in my last letter on the dif
ferent practice of the Italian and Dutch
Painters, I observed that "the Italian
Painter attends only to the invariable,
the great, and general ideas, which are fixed
and inherent in universal nature."
I was led into the subject of this letter
by endeavouring to fix the original cause
of this conduct of the Italian Masters. If
it can be proved that by this choice they
selected (the most beautiful part of the
creation^ it will show how much their >
principles are founded on reason, and, at
the same time, discover the origin of our
ideas of beauty.

236 THE IDLER.
I suppose it will be easily granted, that no
man can judge whether any animal be
beautiful in its kind, or deformed, who has
seen only one of that species ; this is as
conclusive in regard to the human figure ; so
that if a man, born blind, were to recover
Jiis sight, and the most beautiful woman
were brought before him, he could not
determine whether she was hkndsome
or not ; nor if the most beautiful and most
deformed were produced, could he any
better determine to which he should
give the preference, having seen only
those two. To distinguish beauty, then,
implies the having seen many individuals
of that species. If it is asked, how is
more skill acquired by the observation
/t>f greater numbers? I answer, that, ''in
consequence of having seen many, the
power is acquired, even without seeking
after it, of distinguishing between acci
dental blemishes and excrescences which
are continually varying the surface of
Nature's works, and the invariable general
form which Nature most frequently pro
duces, and always seems to intend in her
productions.

THE IDLER. 237
Thus amongst the blades of grass or
leaves of the same tree, though no two can
be found exactly alike, the general form is
invariable : a Naturalist, before he chose
one as a sample, would examine many ;
since if he took the first that occurred, it
might have, by accident or otherwise, such
a form as that it would scarce be known to
belong to that species ; he selects as the
Painter does, the most beautiful, that is,
the most general form of nature.
Every species of the animal as well as
the vegetable creation may be said to have
a fixed or determinate form, towards which
Nature is continually inclining, like various
lines terminating in the centre ; or it may
be compared to pendulums vibrating in
different directions over one central point :
and as they all cross the centre, though
only one passes through any other point,
so it will be found that perfect beauty is
oftener produced by nature than deformity ;
I do not mean than deformity in general,
but than any one kind of deformity. To
instance in a particular part of a feature ;
the line that forms a ridge of the nose is

° 238 THE IDLER.
beautiful when it is straight ; this theil is
the central form, which is oftener found
than either concave, convex, or any other
irregular form that shall be proposed.
^As we are then more accustomed to beauty
than deformity, we may conclude that to be
the reason why we approve and admire it,
as we approve and admire customs and
fashions of dress for no other reason than
that we are used to them ; so that though
habit and custom cannot be said to be the
cause of beauty, it is certainly the cause of
our liking it : and I have no doubt but
that if we were more used to deformity
than beauty, deformity would then lose
the idea now annexed to it, and take that
of beauty : as if the whole world should
agree, that yes and no should change their
meaning ; yes would then deny, and no
would affirm.
Whoever undertakes to proceed further
in this argument, and endeavours to fix a
general* criterion of beauty respecting dif
ferent species, or to show why one species
is more beautiful than another, it will be
required from him first to prove that one

THE IDLER: 239
species is really more beautiful than an
other. That we prefer one to the other, •.
and with very good reason, will be readily
granted ; but it does not follow from thence
that we think it a more beautiful form ; \
for we have no criterion of form by which
to determine our judgement. He who
says a swan is more beautiful than a dove,
means little more than that he has more
pleasure in seeing a swan than a dove,
either from the stateliness of its motions,
or its being a more rare bird ; and he who
gives the preference to the dove, does it
from some association of ideas of innocence
which he always annexes to the dove ; but
if he pretends to defend the preference
he gives to one or the other by endeavour
ing to prove that this more beautiful form
proceeds from a particular gradation of
magnitude, undulation of a curve, or direc
tion of a line, or whatever other conceit
of his imagination he shall fix on, as a cri- ,
terion of form, he will be continually con
tradicting himself, and find at last that the
great Mother of Nature will not be sub
jected to such narrow rules. Among the
various reasons why we prefer one part of

240 THE IDLER.
her works to another, the most general,
I believe, is habit and custom ; custom
makes, in a certain sense, white black, and
black white ; it is custom alone determines
our preference of the colour of the Euro
peans to the Ethiopians, and they, for the
same reason, prefer their own colour to
ours. I suppose no body will doubt, if one
of their Painters were to paint the Goddess
of Beauty, but that he would represent her
black, with thick lips, flat nose, and woolly
hair; and, it seems to me, he would act
very unnaturally if he did not : for by what
criterion will any one dispute the propriety
of his idea ! We indeed say, that the form
and colour of the European is preferable
to that of the Ethiopian ; but I know of
no other reason we have for it, but that
.we are more accustomed to it. It is absurd
to say, that beauty is possessed of attrac
tive powers, which irresistibly seize the
corresponding mind with love and admi
ration, since that argument is equally con
clusive in favour of the white and the black
philosophers. The black and white nations must, in

THE IDLER. 241
respect of beauty, be considered as of
different kinds, at least a different species
of the same kind ; from one of which to
the other, as I observed, no inference can
be drawn.
Novelty is said to be one of the causes
of beauty. That novelty is a very sufficient
reason why we should admire, is not
denied ; but because it is uncommon, it is
therefore beautiful? The beauty that is
produced by colour, as when we prefer one
bird to another, though of the same form,
on account of its colour, has nothing to do
with the argument, which reaches only to
form. I have here considered the word
Beauty as being properly applied to form
alone. There is a necessity of fixing this
confined sense ; for there can be no argu
ment, if the sense of the word is extended
to every thing that is approved. A rose <v
may as well be said to be beautiful, because
it has a fine smell, as a bird because of its
colour. When we apply the word Beauty, v
we do not mean always by it a more
beautiful form, but something valuable on
account of its rarity, usefulness, colour, or
VOL. II. R

242 THE IDLER.
any other property. A horse is said to
be a beautiful animal ; but had a horse
as few good qualities as a tortoise, I do
not imagine that he would then be deemed
beautiful. A fitness to the end proposed, is said to
be another cause of beauty ; but supposing
we were proper judges of what form is the
most proper in an animal to constitute
strength or swiftness, we always determine
concerning its beauty, before we exert our
understanding to judge of his fitness.
From what has been said, it may be
inferred, that the works of Nature, if we
compare one species with another, are all
equally beautiful, and that preference is
given from custom or some association of
ideas ; and that, in creatures of the same
species, beauty is the medium or centre of
all its various forms.
To conclude, then, by way of corollary :
if it has been proved that the Painter, by
attending to the invariable and general
ideas of Nature, produce beauty, he must,

THE IDLER. 243
by regarding minute particularities, and
accidental discriminations, deviate from the
universal rule, and pollute his canvass with
deformity.

r 2

A
JOURNEY

TO

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND,
IN THE YEAR MDCC1XXXI.

R 3

A
JOURNEY TO
FLANDERS AND HOLLAND,
IN THE YEAR MDCCLXXXI.*

At Ostend, where we landed, July 27,
1781, there are no pictures, and even
Bruges affords but a scanty entertain
ment to a Painter : however, there are
a few, which, though not of the first
* Our author, accompanied by Philip Metcalfe,
Esq. left London on Tuesday, July 24, 1781, went
to Margate, and embarked there for Ostend; pro
ceeded from thence to Ghent, Brussels, Antwerp ;
Dort, the Hague, Leyden, Amsterdam, Dusseldorp,
Aix-la-chapelle, Liege ; returned to Brussels again,
from thence to Ostend; landed at Margate, and
arrived »in London Sunday, Sept. 16.
To Mr. Metcalfe he intended to have dedicated
his account of this Tour, but he had only written
the following introductory paragraphs :
" I send you, put together in as much order as
R 4

248 A JOURNEY TO
rank, may be worth the attention of a
traveller who has time to spare.
the little time I can spare from my business will per
mit, the Notes that I made abroad on the pictures
that we saw together. I present them to you as
properly your due ; for if I had been accompanied
by a person of less taste, or less politeness, they
probably would not have been made. The pleasure
that a mere dilettante derives from seeing the works
of art, ceases when he has received the full effect of
each performance •, but the Painter has the means of
amusing himself much longer, by investigating the
principles on which the Artists wrought. To which
ever of your good qualities I am to attribute your
long and. patient attendance, while I was employed
in examining the various works which we saw, it
merits my warmest acknowledgements. Nor is it an
inconsiderable advantage to see such works in com
pany with one, who has a general rectitude of taste,
and is not a professor of the art. We are too apt to
forget that the art is not intended solely for the
pleasure of professors. The opinions of others are
certainly not to be neglected ; since by their means
the received rules of art may be corrected ; at least
a species of benefit may be obtained, which we are
not likely to derive from the judgement of painters ;
who being educated in the same manner, are likely
to judge from the same principles, are liable to the
same prejudices, and may sometimes be governed
by the influence of an authority which perhaps has
no foundation in nature." M.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 249
BRUGES. BnucEs.
In the Cathedral. — The high altar ; segbrs.
the Adoration of the Magi, by Segers.
This picture is justly considered as one
of the best of that painter's works. The
part which first obtrudes itself on your
attention is one of the kings, who is
placed in the front : this figure, not
withstanding its great fame, and its
acknowledged excellence in many re
spects, has one great defect ; it appears
to have nothing to do with the rest of
the composition, and has too much the
air of a whole-length portrait. What
gives it so much this appearance is,
the eyes looking out "of the picture;
that is, he is looking at the person
who looks at the picture. This always
has a bad effect, and ought never to
be practised in a grave historical com
position, however successfully it may
be admitted in ludicrous subjects,
where no business of any kind, that
requires eagerness of attention, is going
forward.

Venius.

250 A JOURNEY TO
Bruges. The second altar on the right from
otho the door is the Nativity, by Otho Ve
nius. Many parts of this picture bring
to mind the manner of Rubens, parti
cularly the colouring of the arm of one
of the shepherds : but in comparison of
Rubens it is but a lame performance,
and would not be worth mentioning
here, but from its being the work of a
man who had the honour to be the
master of Rubens.
Otho Venius published two books of
Emblems, explained by prints of chil
dren : it was from him Rubens imbibed
that predilection in favour of emblema
tical representation which has afforded
so much subject for criticism ; particu
larly his introducing them in the Lux-
emburgh gallery.
JohnVaw In the sacristy is a picture, painted
by John Van Eyck, of the Virgin
and Child, with St. George and other
Saints ; one of those figures which is
dressed in white, and which undoubt-

Eyck

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 251
edly was taken from the life, according Bruges.
to the custom of the painters of those
times, has great character of nature,
and is very minutely finished, though
the painter was sixty-six years old
when it was done ; for the date on it
is 1436. This picture claims perhaps
more attention from its being painted
by a man who has beefi^said to be the
first inventor of the art of painting in
oil, than from any intrinsiek merit in
the work itself. However, his claim
to this invention, which was first attri
buted to him by Vasari, and from his
authority propagated in the world, has
been justly disputed by the learned
antiquarian Mr. Raspe, who has proved
beyond all contradiction, that this art
was invented and practised many ages
before Van Eyck was born.
The art is here in its infancy ; but
still having the appearance of a faithful
representation of individual nature it
does not fail to please. To a certain
degree the painter has accomplished

252 A JOURNEY TO
Bruges, his purpose ; which is more than can
be said of two heads by Rubens of St.
Peter and St. Paul, in the same sacristy,
which are neither a good representa
tion of individual or general nature:
however, each of these heads is en
shrined in a rich tabernacle of silver,
locked up, and shown only on high
festivals. The great reputation which
Rubens has so justly acquired, is here
extended to pictures slightly painted,
and which perhaps he himself would be
ashamed to acknowledge as his : they
appear to have nothing to recommend
them, but a tint of colour and lightness
of pencil; a merit which indeed Rubens
seldom wanted : they are insipid,without
grace, dignity, or character of any kind.
CHURCH OF NOTRE DAME.
Michael The Virgin and Christ (Bambino) in
Angelo. .
marble, said to be of Michael Angelo.
It has certainly the air of his school,
and is a work of considerable merit;
it was a prize taken by a Dutch Corsair
going from Civita Vecchia to Genoa. >

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 253
GHENT.  THE CATHEDRAL. Ghent.

In this great Church is the St. Ba- RuB
von of Rubens. This picture was for
merly the ornament of the high altar
of this cathedra], but was displaced to
make room for an ordinary piece of
sculpture. When Rubens was thus
degraded, one may conclude his fame
was then not established : he had not
been dead long enough to be canonized,
as he may be said to be at present. It is
now placed in a chapel behind the great
altar. The saint is represented in the
upper part of the' picture, in armour,
kneeling, received by a priest at the
door of a church ; below is a man who
may be supposed to be his steward,
giving money to the poor. Two wo
men are standing by, dressed in the
fashion of the times when Rubens
lived ; one of them appears to be pull
ing off a chain which falls from her
neck, as if she intended to follow the
example before her. This picture, for
composition, colouring, richness of

-v-

254 A JOURNEY TO
Ghent, effect, and all those qualities in which
Rubens more particularly excelled,
claims a rank amongst his greatest
and best works. It is engraved by
Pilsen.
Hubert In a chapel is a work of the brothers
and John r
vanEyck. Hubert and John Van Eyck, represent
ing the Adoration of the Lamb, — a
story from the Apocalypse : it contains
a great number of figures in a hard
manner, but there is great character of
truth and nature in the heads ; and the
landscape is well coloured.

Hon-
THORST,

Gerard Jn the third Chapel on the right, is a
picture of St. Sebastian, by Gerard
Honthorst (1663). This picture is men
tioned, not for any great excellence
that it possesses, but from its being
much talked of here : people fancy they
see great expression of tenderness in
the woman who is drawing the arrows
from the Saint's body; but she ap
peared to me perfectly insipid, and
totaMy without expression of any kind :

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 255
the head of St. Sebastian is hard and Ghent-
disagreeable ; the body indeed is well
drawn and not ill coloured, and is the
only part of the picture that deserves
any commendation.

st. Michael's church.

In this church is, or rather was, the vandyck.
famous crucifixion of Vandyck ; for it is
almost destroyed by cleaning. It is well
known by the fine print of Bolswert,
and it appears by what remains to have
been one of his most capital works.
Vandyck has here introduced a most
beautiful horse in an attitude of the
utmost grace and dignity. This is the
same horse on which he drew Charles
the Fifth, which is in the gallery at
Florence ; the head of the Emperor he
copied from Titian.
St. John's hand in this picture comes
round the Virgin Mary's neck, and falls
on the other shoulder. The first impres
sion of Bolswert's plate has this cir-

256 A JOURNEY TO
. Ghent- , cumstance ; but it was afterwards
changed, being supposed to be too
familiar an attitude.
Segers. Christ scourged, by Segers ; the arm
finely drawn, and the body well colour
ed, but too large.
Lang Jan. St. Hubert, a well painted and well
composed picture, by Lang Jan.
THE RECOLLETS.
Rubens. The high altar ; a profane allegorical
picture by Rubens. Christ with Jupiter's
thunder and lightning in his hand,
denouncing vengeance on a wicked
world, represented by a globe lying on
the ground with the serpent twined
round it : this globe St. Francis appears
to be covering and defending with his
mantle. The Virgin is holding Christ's
hand, and showing her breasts ; im
plying, as I suppose, the right she has
to intercede and have an interest with
him whom she suckled. The Christ,
which is ill drawn, in an attitude

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 257
affectedly contrasted, is the most un- Ghent-
gracious figure that can be imagined :
the best part of the picture is the head
of St. Francis.
Mary Magdalen expiring, supported R<^*s.
by ill drawn angels, by Rubens ; the
Saint herself old and disagreeable.
St. Francis receiving the Stimate, Rubens.
likewise by Rubens ; — a figure with
out dignity, and more like a beggar:
though his dress is mean, he ought
surely to be represented with the dig
nity and simplicity of a Saint. Upon
the whole Rubens would appear to no
great advantage at Ghent, if it was not
for the picture of St. Bavon.
ST. NICHOLAS CHURCH.
The great altar, representing some n. roose.
history of this saint, is painted by
N. Roose, a painter of no great merit ;
but this is far superior to any other of
his works, which are plentifully dis
persed over Flanders. It is of a mellow
VOL. II. s

258 A JOURNEY TO
Ghent, colour, and has great force and bril
liancy : it is illuminated by torch-light,
but so well managed, as to have nothing
of that disagreeable effect which Hon-
thorst, Segers, Schalcken, and others,
gave to their pictures, when they
represented night-pieces.
rombuub. St. Joseph advertised by an Angel,
by Rombouts. The angel is an upright
figure, and treads the air with great
grace ; his countenance is likewise
beautiful,, as is also that of the Virgin.
ALOST ST. MARTIN.
Rubens. St. Rock interceding with Christ for
the diseased of the plague, by Rubens.
The composition is upon the same plan
as that of St. Bavon at Ghent. The
picture is divided into two parts ; the
Saint and Christ are represented in the
upper part, and the effects of the plague
in the lower part of the picture. — In
this piece the grey is rather too predo
minant, and the figures have not that
union with their ground which is gene-

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 259
rally so admirable in the works of Ghent.
Rubens. I suspect it has been in some
picture-cleaner's hands, whom I have
often known to darken every part of
the ground about the figure, in order
to make the flesh look brighter and
clearer ; by which the general effect is
destroyed. There is a print from this
picture, by P. Pontius.
BRUSSELS. — ST. gudule.
Christ's charge to Peter with two of Brussels.
the Apostles. The characters heavy,
without grace or dignity ; the handling,
on a close examination, appears tame
even to the suspicion of its being
a copy: the colouring is remarkably
fresh. The name of Rubens would Dot Rubens.
stand high in the world, if he had never
produced other pictures than such as this.
On the same pillar is a Pieta of B. Van b. van
Orlay, with six portraits of the family
who presented this picture to the church.
The old man who appears to be the
father, has great nature, but hard, as the
whole picture is in a dry Gothick style.
s 2

Orlay.

A JOURNEY TO
UNSHOD CARMELITES.
The high altar ; the Assumption, by
Rubens. The principal figure, the Vir
gin, is the worst in the composition,
both in regard to the character of the
countenance, the drawing of the figure,
and even its colour ; for she is dressed,
not in what is the fixed dress of the
Virgin, blue and red, but entirely in a
colour between blue and grey, height
ened with white ; and this, coming on a
white Glory, gives a deadness to that part
of the picture. The Apostles and the two
women are in Rubens's best manner ;
the angels are beautifully coloured, and
unite with the sky in perfect harmony ;
the masses of light and shade are con
ducted with the greatest judgement, and
excepting the upperpartwherethe Virgin
is, it is one of Rubens's rich pictures.

Connor Here are about the Church pretty
Rubens. l •>
good copies, making in all ten pictures,
of that great work of Rubens, the
Triumph of the Church. The originals
were destroyed by fire, when the Prince's
palace was burnt in 1731.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 261
On the left side of the high altar, Brussels.
Christ and St. Theresa with two an- Rubens.
gels ; one supports her, and the other
presents to her bosom a flaming arrow ;
neither are very angelical : the head of
the saint is finely drawn and painted ;
the Christ is likewise well drawn for
Rubens ; but the effect is rather hard,
proceeding from its being wrought up
too highly : it is smooth as ' enamel,
which takes off that suppleness which
appears in his other works : this is cer
tainly not in his best manner, though
it seems to have cost him the most
trouble. In the sacristy is a fine portrait by R«eens.
Rubens. capuchins.
The high altar by Rubens : Christ R«**ns.
dead, lying on the lap of the Virgin ;
two angels holding the lance ; near is
a St. Francis and St. Elizabeth with a
handkerchief to her eyes. This was
probably one of Rubens's best pictures,
but it appears to have suffered much
s 3

262 A JOURNEY TO
Brussels, from cleaning ; the mezzotints of the
flesh of Christ are quite blue, as is the
linen : upon the whole it has the ap
pearance of the coloured prints of Le
Blond. The drapery of the Magdalen
at the feet of Christ is execrable ; the
angels have been totally repainted.
There are prints of this picture both by
Pontius and Bolswert.

Vanbyck .

GER.

On the pillar on the right hand near
the choir is St. Antony of Padua, holding
the Christ in his arms, by Vandyck ;
and on the left hand its companion,
St. Francis : both those figures have
great expression ; but they are slightly
painted, and certainly not intended for
publick pictures. Prints of these by
Krafft.

ST. GERY.

Koeber- The entombing of Christ, by Koe-
berger, 1660 ; an admirable picture in
the style of the Roman school. The
character elegant, well drawn and co
loured ; the blue drapery of the Virgin
is the only defective part ; it is ill

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 263
olded, and the colour does not harmo- Brussels.
nise with the rest. This picture is equal
to the best of Domenichino. I was
much surprised to find such excellence
in a painter of whom I knew little
more than seeing a print of his portrait
among Vandyck's heads. I have since
seen more of his works, but none equal
to this ; which I would place in the first
rank of all the pictures at Brussels.
The fascinating power of Rubens's
pencil has prevented this picture from
possessing such reputation as it un
doubtedly deserves : simplicity is no
match against the splendour of Rubens,
at least at first sight ; and few stay to
consider longer. The best pictures of
the Italian school, if they ornamented
the churches of Antwerp, would be
overpowered by the splendour of Ru
bens ; they certainly ought not to be
overpowered by it; but it resembles
eloquence, which bears down every
thing before it, and often triumphs
over superior wisdom and learning.
s 4

264 A JOURNEY TO
Brussels. In the first Chapel on the right
Bernard hand, is the birth of Christ, by Ber-
VanOrlay. nTr ^ • • 1 111
nard Van Orlay : it is a chapel belong
ing to this painter's family,* in which
they all lie buried. Under this picture
is another, in which are portraits of
himself and his family ; nine figures on
their knees, as praying ; but these must
have been painted by his descendants,
who were likewise painters, the date
on the picture being 1590; thirty
years after Bernard's death. Both pic
tures are painted in the old dry manner ;
but there is great truth in the counte
nance of the portraits, and the Nativity
shows it came from a good school, that
of Raffaelle ; there is a simplicity and
earnestness in one of the shepherds,
which is admirable.

M.Coxis,

In the second Chapel, a good picture
of Christ mocked by the Jews, by M.
Coxis. MR. DANOOT'S.
Among the private cabinets at Brus
sels, that of Mr. Danoot, the Banker,

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 265
claims particular attention. He has brus
appropriated little more than one room
of his house for pictures, and has
therefore been very attentive in the
choice of what he has admitted.
To mention only a few of the most Rubens.
striking : — Two sketches by Rubens ;
the Rape of the Sabines, and the
women endeavouring to prevent the
Roman and Sabine soldiers from join
ing battle : this last has more novelty,
and is the most interesting of the two.
The women are here placed between
the two armies, some hanging on the
soldiers' arms, others pressing the horses
backward, and others holding up their
infants at arms' length, and showing
them to the soldiers, to excite their
compassion. The whole composition
is full of animation, to which the air
of the horses, thus pressed backwards,
does not a little contribute. Both these
sketches are admirably composed, and
in every respect excellent ; few pictures
of Rubens, even of his most finished
4

266 A JOURNEY TO
Brussels, works, give a higher idea of his genius.
All the parts are more determined than
is usual in sketches. They are what
I apprehend he put into the hands of
his scholars, from which they advanced
and carried on the great picture, which
he afterwards retouched and finished.

Rubkns.

Another sketch of the same master ;
the finding of Romulus and Remus.

rueens. ^ Child in a Cradle, with three
women, by Rubens ; the scene a land
scape, the figures somewhat less than
life. This picture has not so much force
as his works in general, and appears not
to have received his last touches.

Rem brandt.

Rembrandt's portrait, by himself, half
length, when he was old, in a very un
finished manner, but admirable for its
colour and effect : his pallet and pen
cils and mahlstick are in his hand, if it
may be so called ; for it is so slightly
touched, that it can scarce be made out
to be a hand.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 267
A woman with a sprig of jessamy Brussels.
in her hand, by Lionardo da Vinci. Lionardo
Ihere is beauty in the countenance,
but it is in a hard manner. — A small
picture by young Teniers, of Boors ^ouy
shooting at a but or target ; in his best
manner. His name and the date are
on it, which I took down to mark the
part of his life when he was in his
zenith of perfection ; the date is 1645 ;
he was then 35 years old, being born
in 1610.

Another picture of old David Teniers, o..D Day
•*- Teniers.
which has a good landscape, but it has
not the neat and elegant touch of young
David; it seems to have proceeded from
a more clumsy workman.

prince de ligne s.
There is nothing here worth atten
tion, except a whole-length portrait of
John Count of Nassau, by Vandyck.
The head of this picture is engraved
in Vandyck's book of portraits. The
character and drawing are admirable ;

Vandyck-

2<3S A JOURNEY TO
Brussels, the face seems to have lost a little of its
brilliancy : It is much in the manner of
Lord Strafford's picture in the posses
sion of the Duke of Grafton.
vandy«. a picture of Minerva and Mercury,
bridling or taming Pegasus. It appears
to be a Vandyck, or a copy after him : as
it hangs between two windows, I could
not determine which was the case.
vandyck. A Pieta of Vandyck, in the manner
of Rubens ; the same as one at Dussel-
dorp, but not so good ; and it is there
disputed whether their picture is of
Rubens or Vandyck. The Virgin's
eyes are disagreeably red; the whole
without beauty of any kind, except in
regard to its colour.
LucaGior- About half a dozen Luca Giordanos.

DANO.

MR. ORION'S.
d.ryc- A country town pillaged by soldiers,
by D. Ryckaert. It is painted in a
colder manner than I expected from the

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 269
sketch which I have in my possession Brussels.
in colours.

A sketch by Rubens, of three saints Rubens.
on their knees : likewise two admirable
sketches of the two ends of the ceiling
of the Banqueting-house * ; the middle
part was in Lord Orford's collection,
which is now in Russia.
A painter drawing after a plaister-
figure of a child ; perfect in its kind.
A Nativity, byJordaens; a capricious J°r°^ns
composition in the manner of Tintoret.
Many excellent small pictures of
Teniers, Van Uden, Asselyn Crabbetje,
and others.
He has two Rembrandts ; The wrest- fi£M\
' BRANDT.
ling of Jacob and the Angel, and a por
trait ; but neither of them excellent.
* These two sketches were afterwards purchased
by our author. M.

270 A JOURNEY TO
Brussels. My friend remarked, that Mr. Orion
was almost the only gentleman who
showed his own pictures, that did not
pester us by prating about their merit.
He certainly has pictures which well
deserve to be praised, but he left that
part to us.
MECHLIN  THE CATHEDRAL.
Rubens. The Last Supper, by Rubens. The
heads of the Apostles and style of dra
pery are in Rubens's best manner ; but
the picture is in bad condition, as it is
mildewed : the Christ, the worst head.
The principal figure is here, as is gee-
rally the case, the worst figure in the
composition. Perhaps, this is unavoid
able : it is here as in poetry ; a perfect
character makes but an insipid figure ;
the genius is cramped and confined, and
cannot indulge itself in those liberties
which give spirit to the character, and
of course interest the spectator. It has
been observed, that Milton has not suc
ceeded in the speeches which he has
given to God the Father, or to Christ,

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 271
so well as in those which he has put in mechlw.
the mouths of the rebel angels. — Under
the table is a dog gnawing a bone ; a
circumstance mean in itself, and cer
tainly unworthy such a subject, how
ever properly it might fill a corner of
such a picture as the marriage at Cana,
by Paul Veronese. Beside the impro
priety, one does not see how the dog
came by his bone, nothing of that kind
being on the table ; but the word supper
was excuse enough for Rubens, who
was always glad of an opportunity
of introducing animals into his pic
tures. There is a print of this picture by
Bolswert. On one side hangs a small picture of rui™*.
Christ washing the Disciples' feet,, and
on the other a picture of the same size,
of Christ entering Jerusalem, likewise
by Rubens; they are both well com
posed, and that appears to be their
whole merit.

272 A JOURNEY TO
mechun. There is a circumstance belonging to
Rubens, the Altar piece, which may be worth
relating, as it shows Rubens's manner of
proceeding in large works. The person
who bespoke this picture, a citizen of
Mechlin, desired, to avoid the danger of
carriage, that it might be painted at
Mechlin ; to this the painter easily con
sented, as it was very near his country-
seat at Steen. Rubens, having finished
his sketch in colours, gave it as usual to
one of his scholars, (Van Egmont,) and
sent him to Mechlin to dead-colour from
it the great picture. The gentleman,
seeing this proceeding, complained that
he bespoke a picture of the hand of the
master, not of the scholar, and stopped
the pupil in his progress. However,
Rubens satisfied him that this was always
his method of proceeding ; and that this
piece would be as completely his work
as if he had done the whole from the
beginning. The Citizen was satisfied,
and Rubens proceeded with the picture,
which appears to me to have no indica
tions of neglect in any part ; on the con-

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 273
trary, I think it has been one of his best mechlw.
pictures, though those who know this
circumstance pretend to see Van Eg-
mont's inferior genius transpire through
Rubens's touches.

RECOLLETS.
The great altar, in the church of the
Recollets, is Christ crucified between
the two Thieves, by Vandyck. This, Vamdvck.
perhaps, is the most capital of all his
works, in respect to the variety and
extensiveness of the design, and the
judicious disposition of the whole. In
the efforts which the thieves make to
disengage themselves from the cross, he
has successfully encountered the dif
ficulty of the art ; and the expression
of grief and resignation in the Virgin is
admirable. This picture, upon the whole,
may be considered as one of the first
pictures in the world, and gives the
highest idea of Vandyck's powers: it
' shows that he had truly a genius for
history-painting, if it had not been taken
VOL. II. t

27* A JOURNEY TO
Mechun.^ off by portraits. The colouring of this
picture is certainly not of the brightest
kind, but it seems as well to correspond
with the subject as if it had the freshness
of Rubens. St. John is a mean charac
ter, the only weak part in the picture,
unless we add another circumstance,
though but a minute one ; the hair of
the Magdalen, at the feet of Christ, is
too silky, and indeed looks more like
silk drapery than hair. — There is a
print of the head of this Magdalen, to
which is added a skull.

Vandyck.

The altar on the right, by Vandyck ;
St. Bonavent, supported by an angel,
whilst another is giving him the Sacra
ment. The Priest at the altar is without
dignity ; he is looking over his shoulder
as if he was only satisfying his curiosity
to see what they were about : the Saint
is likewise poorly imagined, and makes
but a despicable figure in comparison of
the manner in which the same kind of
subject has been treated by Domenichino
and Agostino Caracci, in their pictures of

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 275
the communion of St. Jerome. The mechlih.
colouring is not brilliant; a reddish""
colour being too predominant in the
flesh, particularly in the shadows. This,
as I have before observed, is the case
with many of Vandyck's pictures. A
print by Franciscus Vanden Wyngaerde.
THE CHURCH OF ST. JOHN.
The great Altar, the Adoration of the R»BENs
Magi, by Rubens ; a large and rich
composition : but there is a want of force
in the Virgin and Child : they appear of
a more shadowy substance than the rest
of the picture, which has his usual
solidity and richness. One of the Kings
holds an incense-vase. This circumstance
is mentioned to distinguish this picture
from the many others which Rubens has
painted of this subject. It is engraved
by L. Vostermans.
On the inside of one of the doors is Rubens.
the Decollation of St. John the Baptist,
on the other St. John the Evangelist in
the cauldron of boiling oil. The figures
t 2

«76 A JOURNEY TO
M»cm.w. which are putting him into the cauldron
want energy, which is not a common
defect of Rubens : the character of the
head of the Saint is vulgar, which
indeed in him, is not an uncommon
defect. The whole is of a mellow and
rich colouring. On the outside of those
doors is John baptising Christ, and St.
John the Evangelist in the Isle of Patmos,
writing the Apocalypse : both of these
are in his best manner; the Eagle of
St. John is remarkably well painted ; the
baptism is much damaged. Under these
are three pannels, on which are the Na
tivity, the Crucifix, and the Resurrec-
Rubeks. tion Though they are all of Rubens,
they have very little merit, except an
air of facility of hand. Of the Nativity
there is a print by Vostermans, which
appears as if engraved after a finished
picture. Probably the drawing which
the engraver made from the picture was
corrected by Rubens : what seems to
confirm this, is the print being dedicated
by Rubens himself to his friend Petrus
Venius:" Testem hanc exanimo," &c.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 277
Rubens was paid for these eight pictures mkhun.
eighteen hundred florins of Brabant,
about 180 pounds English, as appears
by the receipt preserved in the sacristy ;
and the whole was begun and finished
in eighteen days. AUGUSTINS.
In the church of the Augustins was r»bm«.
the famous picture by Rubens, of the
Virgin and Christ, St. Catharine, St.
Agnes, Christine Marguerite, and other
female Saints ; which was sold to Ver-
halst at Brussels, and bought at his sale
by the Duke of Rutland, in whose
possession it now is. A print of this
picture by Jode.
ANTWERP.  THE CATHEDRAL.
On entering the great door on the
right, is the Last Judgment, said to be
by B. Van Orlay, but I suspect it to be ^ v*.
by some of his descendants ; it is much
inferior to what we saw of him at
Brussels. On the folding-doors are the
t 3

278 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp

GER,

seven acts of Mercy ; it has no excel
lence of any kind, to make amends for
its extreme hardness of manner.

Koeber- The altar of the Archers ; St. Sebas
tian, by Koeberger. There are good
parts in this picture, but it is not equal
to his Pieta at Brussels : the boy in half
shadow, who holds a bow and arrows,
and the priest who holds an image in
his hand, the face seen by a reflected
light, are the best parts of the picture.
The body of the Saint is well coloured,
and in a broad manner. Two Women's
heads are introduced very awkwardly in
the bottom of the picture.
THE CHAPEL OF ST. MICHAEL.
f. FlorIS. The fall of the Angels by F. Floris,
1554 ; which has some good parts, but
without masses, and dry. On the thigh
of one of the figures he has painted a
fly for the admiration of the vulgar >
there is a foolish story of this fly being
painted by J. Mastys, and that it had
the honour of deceiving Floris.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND, 279
THE CHAPEL BELONGING TO THE COMPANY Antwerp.
OF ARQUEBUSE. '  ' — J
The famous descent of the Cross : r«*ens.
this picture, of all the works of Rubens,
is that which has the most reputation. I
had consequently conceived the highest
idea of its excellence; knowing the print,
I had formed in my imagination what
such a composition would produce in
the hands of such a painter. I confess I
was disappointed. However, this dis
appointment did not proceed from any
deficiency in the picture itself; had it
been in the original state in which Ru
bens left it, it must have appeared very
different : but it is mortifying to see to
what degree it has suffered by cleaning
and mending : that brilliant effect, which
it undoubtedly once had, is lost in a mist
of varnish, which appears to be chilled
or mildewed. The Christ is in many
places retouched, so as to be visible at a
distance ; the St. John's head repainted ;
and other parts, on a close inspection,
appear to be chipping off* and ready to
t 4

280 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. fa\\ from the canvass. However, there
is enough to be seen to satisfy any con
noisseur, that in its perfect state it well
deserved all its reputation.
The composition of this picture is
said to be borrowed from an Italian
print : This' print I never saw ; but
those who have seen it, say, that Ru
bens has made no deviation from it,
except in the attitude of the Mag
dalen. On the print is written, " Peter
Passer Invenit ; Hieronymus Wirix
sculpsit." The greatest peculiarity of this com
position is the contrivance of the white
sheet, on which the body of Jesus lies :
this circumstance was probably what in
duced Rubens to adopt the composition.
He well knew what effect white linen,
opposed to flesh, must have, with his
powers of colouring ; a circumstance
which was not likely to enter into the
mind of an Italian painter, who probably
would have been afraid of the linen's

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 281
hurting the colouring of the flesh, and antwerf.
have kept it down of a low tint. And
the truth is, that none but great colourists
can venture to paint pure white linen
near flesh ; but such know the advantage
of it : so that possibly what was stolen
by Rubens, the possessor knew not how
to value ; and certainly no person knew
so well as Rubens how to use. After
all, this may perhaps turn out another
Lauder's detection of plagiarism. I
could wish to see this print, if there
is one, to ascertain how far Rubens
was indebted to it for his Christ, which
I consider as one of the finest figures
that ever was invented : it is most
correctly drawn, and I apprehend in
an attitude of the utmost difficulty to
execute. The hanging of the head on
his shoulder, and the falling of the
body on one side, gives such an appear
ance of the heaviness of death, that
nothing can exceed it.
Of the three Maries, two of them
have more beauty than he generally

282 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, bestowed on female figures ; but no great
elegance of character. The St. Joseph
of Arimathea is the same countenance
which he so often introduced in his
works; a smooth fat face, — a very
un-historical character.
The principal light is formed by the
body of Christ and the white sheet;
there is no second light which bears
any proportion to the principal ; in this
respect it has more the manner of Rem
brandt's disposition of light than any
other of Rubens's works ; however there
are many little detached lights distri
buted at some distance from the great
mass, such as the head and shoulders
of the Magdalen, the heads of the
two Maries, the head of St. Joseph,
and the back and arm of the figure
leaning over the Cross ; the whole
surrounded with a dark sky, except a
little light in the horizon, and above
the Cross.

The historical anecdote relating to this

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 283
picture, says, that it was given in ex- Antwerp.
change for a piece of ground, on which
Rubens built his house; and that the
agreement was only for a picture repre
senting their patron, St. Christopher,
with the Infant Christ on his shoulders.
Rubens who wished to surprise them
by his generosity, sent five pictures
instead of one ; a piece of gallantry
on the side of the painter, which was
undoubtedly well received by the Ar-
quebusers ; since it was so much to
their advantage, however expensive to
the maker of it.
All those pictures were intended to
refer to the name of their patron Chris
topher. In the first place, the body of Christ
on the Altar is borne by St. John, St.
Joseph of Arimathea, Mary Magda
len, &c.
On one side of the left door, is the
Salutation of Mary and Elizabeth. The

284 A JOURNEY TO

Antwerp

j Virgin here bears Christ before he is
born.

On the reverse of the same door is
St. Christopher himself, bearing the
Infant on his shoulders. The picture
which corresponds with this on the
other side, is the only one which has
no reference to the word Christopher.
It represents an Hermit with a lantern,
to receive Christ when he arrives at the
other side of the river. The hermit
appears to be looking to the other side ;
one hand holds the lantern, and the
other is very naturally held up to prevent
the light from coming upon his eyes.
But on the reverse of this door we have
another Christopher ; the Priest Simeon
bearing Christ high in his arms, and
looking upwards. This picture, which
has not suffered, is admirable indeed,
the head of the priest more especially,
which nothing can exceed ; the ex
pression, drawing, and colouring, are
beyond all description, and as fresh as
if the piece were just painted.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 285
The colouring of the St. Christopher a«twerp.
is too red and bricky, and the outline is
not flowing. This figure was all that
the company of the Arquebusers ex
pected ; but Rubens justly thought that
such a figure would have made but a
poor subject for an Altar.
There is a print of the Descent by
Luc Vostermans, of the St. Christopher
by Remy Eyndhout ; of Simeon by P.
Pontius : those which have a dedication
to Gasp. Hubert, are bad impressions
and retouched. The Visitation is en
graved by P. de Jode. The Hermit has
not been engraved.
On the side of the choir are the mo
numents of the two celebrated printers
of the Netherlands, John Baptist More-
tus and Martin Plantin ; that of the
former is ornamented with an admirable
picture by Rubens, about half the size Robens.
of life ; Christ coming out of the Se
pulchre in great splendour, the soldiers
terrified, and tumbling one over the

286 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, other: the Christ is finely drawn, and
of a rich colour. The St. John the Bap
tist on the door is likewise in his best
manner ; only his left leg is something
too large. On the other door is St. Bar
bara ; the figure without character, and
the colouring without brilliancy. The
predominant colour in her dress is pur
ple, which has but a heavy effect.
backer. The monument of Plantin has for
its ornament the Last Judgement, by
Backer, correctly drawn, but without
any skill in disposition of light and
shadow. THE CHAPEL OF THE SCHOOL-MASTERS.
Francis Christ among the Doctors, by Fran-
Jranck. ° 'J
cis Franck ; called the young Franck.
There are some fine heads in this pic
ture ; particularly the three men that
are looking on one book, are admirable
characters ; the figures are well drawn,
and well grouped : the Christ is but a
poor figure.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 237
On a pillar opposite, and not far Antwerp.
from the Descent from the Cross, is the
Adoration of the Magi. The Virgin
and the Infant Christ are admirable. It
appears to be the work of B. Van Orlay. b. van
On the doors on each side are portraits
well painted, the woman especially. On
one of the pillars is a picture of Rubens, Rubins.
which serves as a monument for the
family of Goubau : He and his wife
are represented, half length, at prayers,
addressing themselves to the Virgin
and Infant Christ : the old man is well
painted, the Virgin but indifferently.
CORDWAINERS' CHAPEL.
The martyrdom of St. Crepin and ambr.se
J Franck.
Crepinianus, by Ambrose Franck, has
some good heads, but in a dry manner.
THE CONFRERES DE l'aRBULETRE.
The martyrdom of St. George, by sc«ut.
Schut. It is well composed and well
drawn, and is one of his best pictures :
but the Saint has too much of that cha
racter which Painters have fixed for

288 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. Christ. There is a want of brilliancy
from its having too much harmony : to
produce force and strength, a stronger
opposition of colours is required.
Passing by the chapels in which are
altars by Martin and Simon de Vos, and
others, which have nothing worth atten
tion, we come to
THE CHAPEL OF THE CIRCUMCISION.
qu.ntin Where is the famous work of Quintin
MaTSYSi Matsys, the blacksmith. The middle
part is what the Italians call a Pieta; a
dead Christ on the knees of the Virgin
accompanied with the usual figures. On
the door on one side is the daughter of
Herod bringing in St. John's head at the
banquet ; on the other, the Saint in the
cauldron. In the Pieta the Christ ap
pears as if starved to death ; in which
manner it was the custom of the painters
of that age always to represent a dead
Christ ; but there are heads in this
picture not exceeded by Raffaelle, and
indeed not unlike his manner of paint-
12

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 289
ing portraits ; hard and minutely finish- Antwerp.
ed. The head of Herod, and that of a
fat man near the Christ, are excellent.
The painter's own portrait is here intro
duced. In the banquet, the daughter
is rather beautiful, but too skinny and
lean ; she is presenting the head to her
mother, who appears to be cutting it
with a knife.
THE ALTAR OF THE GARDENERS.
A Nativity, a large composition of Francis
Francis Floris, and perhaps the best
of his works. It is well composed,
drawn, and coloured ; the heads are
in general finely painted, more espe
cially St. Joseph, and a woman in the
fore-ground. A Pieta by Rubens, which serves as a rubens.
monument of the family of Michielsens,
and is fixed on one of the pillars : this
is one of his most careful pictures ;
the characters are of a higher style of
beauty than usual, particularly the Mary
Magdalen, weeping, with her hand
clenched. The colouring of the Christ
VOL. II. u

290 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. anc\ the Virgin is of a most beautiful
and delicate pearly tint, opposed by the
strong high colouring of St. Joseph.
I have said in another place, that Ru
bens does not appear to advantage, but
in large works ; this picture may be
considered as an exception.
rubens. The Virgin and Infant Christ on one
of the doors is the same as one at
Marlborough House. The Virgin is
holding Christ, who stands on a table ;
the Infant appears to be attentively
looking at something out of the picture :
the vacant stare of a child is very
naturally represented ; but it is a mean,
ordinary-looking boy, and by no means
a proper representation of the Son of
God. The only picture of Christ in
which Rubens succeeds, is when he
represents him dead ; as a child, or as
a man engaged in any act, there is no
divinity ; no grace or dignity of charac
ter appears.
On the other door is St. John, finely

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 291
coloured ; but this character is like- Antwerp.
wise vulgar. ' " '
On the outside of the door are two rubens.
pictures in black and white ; one of a
Christ, and the other the Virgin and
Child ; these, as well as the two above
mentioned, by Rubens.
THE GREAT ALTAR.
The Assumption of the Virgin. She Ruben*.
is surrounded by a choir of angels ;
below are the Apostles, and a great
number of figures. This picture has
not so rich an appearance in regard to
colour as many other pictures of Ru
bens ; proceeding, I imagine, from there
being too much blue in the sky : how
ever, the lower part of the picture has
not that defect. It is said to have been
painted in sixteen days. The print is
by Bolswert. ST. WALBURGE.
The great altar of the Choir is the Rubens,
first publick work which Rubens exe-
u 2

292 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, cuted after he returned from Italy. In
the centre is Christ nailed to the Cross,
with a number of figures exerting them
selves in different ways to raise it. One
of the figures appears flushed, all the
blood rising into his face from his vio
lent efforts ; others in intricate attitudes,
which, at the same time that they show
the great energy with which the busi
ness is done, give that opportunity which
painters desire, of encountering the
difficulties of the art, in foreshortening
and in representing momentary actions.
This subject, which was probably of his
own choosing, gave him an admirable
opportunity of exhibiting his various
abilities to his countrymen ; and it is
certainly one of his best and most ani
mated compositions.
The bustle, which is in every part of
the picture, makes a fine contrast to the
character of resignation in the crucified
Saviour. The sway of the body of Christ
is extremely well imagined. The
taste of the form in the Christ, as well

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 293
as in the other figures, must be acknow- a»tw*rp.
ledged to be a little inclinable to the
heavy; but it has a noble, free, and
flowing outline. The invention of
throwing the Cross obliquely from one
corner of the picture to the other, is
finely conceived ; something in the
manner of Tintoret : it gives a new
and uncommon air to his subject, and we
may justly add, that it is uncommonly
beautiful. The contrast of the body
with the legs is admirable, and not
overdone. The doors are a continuation of the
subject. That on the right has a group
of women and children, who appear to
feel the greatest emotion and horrour at
the sight : the Virgin and St. John, who
are behind, appear very properly with
more resignation. On the other door are
the officers on horseback; attending
behind them are the two thieves, whom
the executioners are nailing to the Cross.
It is difficult to imagine a subject
u 3

294 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, better adapted for a painter to exhibit

v_

J his art of composition than the present;
at least Rubens has had the skill to make
it serve, in an eminent degree, for that
purpose. In the naked figures of the
Christ, and of the executioners, he had
ample room to show his knowledge of
the anatomy of the human body in dif
ferent characters. There are likewise
women of differen ages, which is always
considered as a necessary part of every
composition, in order to produce variety;
there are, besides, children and horse
men ; and to have the whole range of
variety, he has even added a dog, which
he has introduced in an animated atti
tude, with his mouth open, as if panting :
admirably well painted. His animals
are always to be admired : the horses
here are perfect in their kind, of a noble
character, animated to thehighestdegree.
Rubens, conscious of his powers in
painting horses, introduced them in his
pictures as often as he could. This part
of the work, where the horses are repre
sented, is by far the best in regard to

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 295
colouring ; it has a freshness which the *«™"*-
other two pictures want : but those
appear to have suffered by the sun.
This picture of the horsemen is situated
on the south-east side, whereas the
others, being east and south-east, are
more exposed : however, at present
there is no longer danger, the fathers
have taken the precaution to have a
fixed window-blind, which the rays of
the sun cannot penetrate.
The central picture, as well as that
of the group of women, does not, for
whatever reason, stand so high for colour
as every other excellence. There is a
dryness in the tint ; a yellow okery
colour predominates over the whole ;
it has too much the appearance of a
yellow chalk-drawing. I mean only to
compare Rubens with himself; they
might be thought excellent even in this
respect, were they the work of almost
any other painter. The flesh, as well
as the rest of the picture, seems to want
grey tints, which is not a general defect
u 4

2g6 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. 0f Rubens ; on the contrary, his mez-
'_ -„¦¦—) zotints are often too grey.
The blue drapery, about the middle
of the figure at the bottom of the Cross
and the grey colour of some armour, are
nearly all the cold colours in the picture;
which are certainly not enough to qualify
so large a space of warm colours. The
principal mass of light is on the Christ's
body ; but in order to enlarge it, and
improve its shape, a strong light comes
on the shoulder of the figure with a
bald-head : the form of this shoulder is
somewhat defective ; it appears too
round. Upon the whole, this picture must
be considered as one of Rubens's prin
cipal works, and that appearance of
heaviness which it has, when seen near,
entirely vanishes when the picture is
viewed from the body of the church, to
which you descend from the choir by
twenty stairs.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 297
On the other side of the two doors, Antwerp.
which turn round, are likewise two ^
pictures, by Rubens ; St. Catharine with Ruben*.
a sword, and St. Eloi with a female
Saint and Angels, as usual finely paint
ed ; but the figure of St. Eloi appears
too gigantick.
Of the elevation of the Cross and its
appendages, there is a print in three
sheets by Withous ; of St. Eloi by
Remoldus Eynhovedts, and of the
St. Catharine by Bolswert.
In this church, on the left hand of the
choir, is another picture by Rubens, of Rubens,
Christ after his resurrection sitting on
his sepulchre, trampling on the symbol
of death : it is a picture of no force of
colouring, which possibly proceeds from
its having been much damaged. — A
print of this by Remoldus Eynhovedts.

298 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. the church 0p THE JACOBINES. *
The great altar, a crucifixion by
vandyck. Vandyck. St. Rosaria at the feet of
Christ, and St. Dominick. A sepul
chral lamp, and a flambeau reversed,
are here introduced, to show that Christ
is dead : two little angels are represent
ed on each side of the Cross, and a larger
angel below. The two little ones look
like embrios, and have a bad effect; and
the large angel is not painted with equal
success, as many other parts of the
picture. The shadows are too red, and
the locks of the hair are all painted in a
hard and heavy manner. For its defects
ample amends is made in the Christ,
which is admirably drawn and coloured;
and a breadth of light preserved over
the body with the greatest skill ; at the
same time that all the parts are distinctly
marked. The form and character are of
a more elegant kind than those we see
commonly of Rubens.
The idea of St. Rosaria closing her
* Nuns of the order of St. Dominick. R.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 299
eyes is finely imagined, and gives an Antwerp.
uncommon and delicate expression to
the figure.
The conduct of the light and shadow
of this picture is likewise worth the
attention of a Painter. To preserve the
principal mass of light which is made
by the body of Christ, of a beautiful
shape, the head is kept in half shadow.
The under garment of St. Dominick
and the angel make the second mass ;
and the St. Rosaria' s head, handker
chief, and arm, the third.
The sketch for this picture is said to
be within the convent, but I could not
see it. — A Print by Bolswert.
UNSHOD CARMELITES.
In a recess on the right, on entering Rubens.
the church, is St. Anne, and the Virgin
with a book in her hand, by Rubens.
Behind St. Anne is a head of St. Joa
chim ; two angels in the air with a
crown. This picture is eminently well
coloured, especially the angels ; the

300 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, union of their colour with the sky is
wonderfully managed. It is remarkable
that one of the angels has Psyche's
wings, which are like those of a butter
fly. This picture is improperly called
— St. Anne teaching the Virgin to read;
who is represented about fourteen or
fifteen years of age, too old to begin
to learn to read. The white silk drapery
of the Virgin is well painted, but not
historical ; the silk is too particularly
distinguished, a fault of which Rubens is
often guilty, in his female drapery ; but
by being of the same colour as the sky it
has a soft harmonious effect. The rest
of the picture is of a mellow tint. — A
Print bv Bolswert.
rubens. At an altar on the opposite little nich
on the left, Christ relieving souls out of
purgatory by the intercession of St.
Therese. The Christ is a better cha
racter, has more beauty and grace, than
is usual with Rubens; the outline re
markably undulating, smooth, and flow
ing. The head of one of the women

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 301
in purgatory is beautiful, in Rubens's Antwerp.
way ; the whole has great harmony of
colouring and freedom of pencil : it is in
his best manner. — A Print by Bolswert.

Segers.

The Altar in the choir, by Segers. The
subject is the marriage of the Virgin ;
larger than life. This is one of his best
pictures; much in the manner of Rubens.

On the left of the choir is a Pieta, by Rubens.
Rubens. The body of Christ is here
supported by St. John, instead of the
Virgin, who is stooping forward to kiss
Christ's cheek, whilst the Magdalen is
kissing his hand. Of this picture there
is no print, though it well deserves to be
engraved. Perhaps the subject is handled
too much in the same manner as that in
the church of the Capuchins at Brussels.
THE GREAT CARMELITES, OR SHOED
CARMELITES.

On the right, as you enter the choir,
Christ lying dead on the lap of God
the Father, by Rubens ; on each side an

Rubens.

302 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, angel, with the instruments of cruci
fixion. The Christ is foreshortened
with great skill in drawing. — Engraved
by Bolswert. CHURCH OF THE CACONS (NUNs).
vandyck. In a little chapel the Virgin and Infant
Christ, by Vandyck ; a priest kneeling ;
an angel behind directing his attention
to the Virgin. The drapery seems to be
by another hand. There is nothing in
this picture very much to be admired.
ST. MICHAEL.
Rubens. The great altar, the Adoration of
the Magi ; a large and magnificent
composition of near twenty figures, in
Rubens's best manner. Such subjects
seem to be more peculiarly adapted to
the manner and style of Rubens : his
excellence, his superiority, is not seen
in small compositions.
One of the kings, who holds a cap in
his hand, is loaded with drapery: his
head appears too large, and upon the

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 303
whole he makes but an ungraceful figure. Antwerp.
The head of the ox is remarkably well
painted. — Engraved by Lommeli.
On the left of the great altar is another rubens.
picture of Rubens, St. Gregory with the
Dove, dressed in the sacerdotal robes ;
behind him is St. George in armour;
both noble figures ; and the female
saint, who is likewise in the front of
the picture, is, for Rubens, uncommonly
beautiful. Behind is St. Sebastian, and
other Saints ; and above are angels
bearing a picture in a frame, of the
Virgin and Child. — The print by Re
moldus Eynhovedts.
Near this is a monument of Rubens's Rubins.
brother Philip, with an inscription and
a portrait in oval, by Rubens.
In this church are many fine portraits
inserted in monuments.
St. Norbert receiving the Sacrament, Simon de
by Simon de Vos ; in which are in-
11

304 A JOURNEY TO
^Antwerp, troduced a great number of portraits
extremely well painted. De Vos was
particularly excellent in portraits. There
is in the poor-house in this city, his own
portrait by himself, in black, leaning on
the back of a chair, with a scroll of
blue paper in his hand, so highly
finished, in the broad manner of Cor
reggio, that nothing can exceed it.
Erasmus On the right cross is an immense
Quellinus. c
large picture, by Erasmus Quellinus,
containing some good heads, and figures
not ill drawn ; but it is an ill-conducted
picture, and in bad condition.
THE MINIMES.
There is nothing curious in the
church ; but in passing to the cloisters
are forty pieces of glass pane, by Die-
penbeke, of the life of St. Francis ; and
in an adjoining room a crucifix of
Jordaens, admirable for its colouring,
and the expression is better than usual ;
but the drawing of the limbs of Christ
is defective.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 305
THE CHURCH OF THE JACOBINS. Antwerp.
The altar of the choir is painted by Rubens.
Rubens : the subject the same as one
mentioned before in the church of the
Recollets at Ghent: Christ launching
thunder on the world, the Virgin in
terceding ; below are many saints, male
and female, bishops and cardinals. Ru
bens acquired a predilection for alle
gories from his master, Otho Venius;
but it may be doubted, whether such
fancies in a Christian church are not out
of their proper place. St. Francis is
here, as in the picture at Ghent, the
best head. This picture has been much
damaged, and St. Sebastian in particular
has been repainted by some ignorant
person : the sky has likewise been badly
repaired. God the Father, who is lean
ing on a globe, has something majestick
in the attitude. .
A Council composed of saints, popes, rubens.
cardinals, and bishops, by Rubens, the
same subject, as Raffaelle'is, in the
vol. lr. x

306 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. Vatican, called the Dispute of the
Sacrament. God the Father is repre
sented alone in the distant sky; boy
angels with labels. — Engraved by Snyers.
The sky has been ill repainted, and does
not harmonize with the rest of the work.
The whole picture, indeed, seems to
have suffered ; for there is not that bril
liancy which might be expected, nor
indeed any extraordinary character of
heads : the best is that immediately
behind the bishops on the fore-ground.
— A print by Snyers.
At an altar on the entrance to the
choir, Christ carrying the cross ; said
to be one of the most early pictures of
Vandyck. It is in many parts like the
works of Rubens, particularly the figure
with his back towards the spectator,
which is well drawn.
The drapery of the Christ being dark,
having become so probably by time, is
scarcely at all seen, which makes the
head look like that taken by St. Veronica.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 307
This picture is much cracked, particu- Antwerp.
larly the blue drapery of the Virgin, and *~-v~"
the naked back of the figure above-men
tioned. — A print by Alexander Voct.
The altar of the chapel of St. Domi- Caravag-
nick, a black picture by Caravaggio ;
the Virgin and Christ with St. Dominick,
and other saints.
About the church are represented the
mysteries of St. Rosaria, and other sub
jects painted by various painters: the
best of these pictures are those by Ru
bens and Jordaens. The flagellation of
Christ is by Rubens. This picture,
though admirably painted, is disagree
able to look at ; the black and bloody
stripes are marked with too much
fidelity ; and some of the figures are
awkwardly scourging with their left
hand. — A print by Pontius.

The picture of Jordaens is the Cruci
fixion, with the Virgin, St. John, Mary
x 2

Jordaens.

308 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. Magdalen, and St. Elizabeth ; much in
the manner of Rubens.
The Adoration of the Shepherds.
The light coming from Christ is said to
be of Rubens, but there is nothing in
the picture by which his manner can be
with certainty recognized: there are parts
which were certainly not painted by him,
particularly the drapery of the Virgin.
ST. AUGUSTIN.
rubens. The Altar of the Choir is by Ru
bens. From the size of the picture,
the great number of figures, and the
skill with which the whole is eon-
ducted, this picture must be considered
as one of the most considerable works
of Rubens.
The Virgin and Infant Christ are
represented at one distance, seated on
high on a sort of pedestal, which has
steps ascending to it : behind the Vir
gin is St. Joseph. On the right is St.
Catharine, receiving the ring from

to

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 309
Christ. St, Peter and St. Paul are in Antwerp.
the back-ground ; and on the left, on
the steps, St. John the Baptist, with
the Lamb and Angels. Below are St.
Sebastian, St. Augustin, St. Laurence,
Paul the Hermit, and St. George in
armour. By way of link to unite the
upper and the lower part of the pic
ture, are four female saints half way up
the steps. The subject of this picture,
if that may be called a subject where
no story is represented, has no means
of interesting the spectator : its value
therefore must arise from another
source : from the excellence of art,
from the eloquence, as it may be call
ed, of the artist. And in this the
painter has shown the greatest skill,
by disposing of more than twenty
figures, without composition, and with
out crowding. The whole appears
as much animated, and in motion,
as it is possible for a picture to be,
where nothing is doing ; and the ma
nagement of the masses of light and
shade in this picture is equal to the
x 3

310 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, skill shown in the disposition of the
figures. There is a similar subject to this
painted by Titian, which was in the
church of St. Nicola de Fiari at Venice,
where he has represented the same
saints which are placed all on a line,
without any connexion with each other ;
and above is the Virgin and Infant,
equally unconnected with the rest of
the picture. It is so completely sepa
rated, that it has been since made into
two distinct pictures ; the lower part
forming that which is now in the Pope's
collection in the Capitol.
By the disposition, Titian has cer
tainly saved himself a great deal of that
trouble of contrivance which compo
sition requires. This artless manner
is by many called simplicity ; but that
simplicity, which proceeds either from
ignorance or laziness cannot deserve
much commendation. As ignorance
cannot be imputed to Titian, we may

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 311
conclude it was inattention ; and indeed Antwerp.
he has sufficiently shown that it did
not proceed from ignorance by 'an
other picture of the same kind of
subject in the church de Frari at Ve
nice, where it is treated in a very
different manner. Here the Virgin
and child are placed on an altar, in
stead of a pedestal; St. Peter with
an open book leaning on the altar, and
looking at St. George, and another
figure, which is kneeling. On the
other side is St. Francis looking up to
Christ, and recommending to his pro
tection a noble Venetian, with four
other figures, who are on their knees.
Nothing can exceed the simplicity and
dignity of these figures. They are
drawn in profile, looking straight for
ward in the most natural manner, with
out any contrast or affectation of atti
tude whatever. The figure on the
other side is likewise in profile, and
kneeling ; which, while it gives an
air of formality to the picture, adds
also to its grandeur and simplicity.
x 4

312 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. This must be acknowledged to be above
Rubens ; that is, I fear he would have
renounced it, had it occurred. Ru
bens's manner is often too artificial
and picturesque for the grand style.
Titian knew very well that so much
formality or regularity as to give the
appearance of being above all the tricks
of art, which we call picturesque, is of
itself grandeur.
There is a quiet dignity in the com
position of Titian, and an animation
and bustle in that of Rubens ; one is
splendid, the other "is grand and majes-
tick. These two pictures may be con
sidered among the best works of those
great painters, and each characterises
its respective author. They may there
fore be properly opposed to each other,
and compared together. I confess I
was so overpowered with the brilliancy
of this picture of Rubens, whilst I
was before it, and under its fascinating
influence, that I thought I had never
before seen so great powers exerted

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 313
in the art. It was not till I was re- ,AnLw!1!\
moved from its influence, that I could
acknowledge any inferiority in Rubens
to any other painter whatever.
The composition of Titian is of that
kind which leaves the middle space
void, and the figures are ranged around
it. In this space is the white linen that
covers the altar ; and it is for the sake
of this white linen, I apprehend, that
he has made an altar instead of a pedes
tal, in order to make the linen the
principal light, which is about the
middle of the picture. The second light
is the Virgin, and Christ, and the heads
of the figures.
The principal light in the lower
part of Rubens's picture, is the body of
St. Sebastian : that of the upper part is
the light in the sky ; in this point
there is no apparent superiority on
either side.
Of both'these pictures there are prints ;

514 A JOURNEY TO
**-"-!!!lj °^ Titian's picture the print is by Lefe-
bre, and the Rubens is engraved by
Snyers, and by Remoldus Eynhovedts :
in the first impression of that of Snyers,
there are parts of the Virgin, and St.
Catharine, and the lap of St. Augustin,
which are unfinished.
One is so much used to anachronisms
in church pictures, that it ceases to be
an object of criticism. From the fre
quency of seeing pictures peopled with
men who lived in different ages, this
impropriety may habitually become less
offensive ; introducing, however, St.
John the Baptist, as an elderly man,
in the same picture where Christ is still
an infant, though it may be said to be
a crime of less magnitude, not being so
violent a breach of chronology, yet
appears to the spectator even more un
pardonable, perhaps from his being so
often used to see them represented toge
ther as children.

Vandyck.

The altar on the left hand ; St. Au-

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 315
gustin in ecstacy, by Vandyck. This Antwsr?.
picture is of great fame, but in some
measure disappointed my expectations ;
at least on just parting from the Rubens,
the manner appeared hard and dry.
The colouring is of a reddish kind,
especially in the shadows, without trans
parency. The colours must have suf
fered some change, and are not now as
Vandyck left them. This same defect
of the red shadows I have observed in
many of his pictures. The head of an
elderly woman, said to be the saint's
mother, is finely drawn, and is the
best part of the picture ; and the angel
sitting on a cloud is the best of that
group. The boy with the sceptre is
hard, and has no union with the blue
sky. This picture has no effect, from the
want of a large mass of light ; the two
angels make two small masses of equal
magnitude. The St. Augustin is drest in black,

316 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp.

though in the print of P. de Jode
(according to the usual liberty of these
engravers after Rubens and Vandyck)
it makes the principal light ; and a light
is thrown on the other figures in the
print, which are quite dark in the picture.

Jordaens. An altar in the right aisle ; the mar
tyrdom of St. Apollonius by J. Jor
daens. There is nothing; much to be
admired in this picture, except the grey-
horse foreshortened, biting his knee,
which is indeed admirable. Jordaens'
horses are little inferior to those of
Rubens. On the sides of the church are hung
many pictures of the inferior painters of
the Flemish school ; the best are, two of
jordaens. J. Jordaens ; the Last Supper, in
which are some excellent heads in the
manner of Rubens, and Christ praying
in the garden ; but the Angels here are
truly Flemish. There is likewise a
backereel. crucifixion by Backereel, which has
some merit.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 317
In the sacristy is a small crucifix by Antwerp.
Vandyck, well drawn ; especially the Vandyek.
head, which is a fine character.

recollets.
The altar of the choir is the famous Rubens.
crucifixion of Christ between the two
thieves, by Rubens. To give animation
to this subject, he has chosen the point
of time when an executioner is piercing
the side of Christ, whilst another with
a bar of iron is breaking the limbs of
one of the malefactors, who in his con
vulsive agony, which his body admirably
expresses, has torn one of his feet from
the tree to which it was nailed. The
expression in the action of this figure
is wonderful : the attitude of the other
is more composed; and he looks at
the dying Christ with a countenance
perfectly expressive of his penitence.
This figure is likewise admirable.
The Virgin, St. John, and Mary the
wife of Cleophas, are standing by
with great expression of grief , and
9

318 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, resignation, whilst the Magdalen, who
is at the feet of Christ, and may be
supposed to have been kissing his feet,
looks at the horseman with the spear,
with a countenance of great horrour :
as the expression carries with it no gri
mace or contortion of the features, the
beauty is not destroyed. This is by far
the most beautiful profile I ever saw
of Rubens, or, I think, of any other
painter ; the excellence of its colouring
is beyond expression. To say that she
may be supposed to have been kissing
Christ's feet, may be thought too refined
a criticism ; but Rubens certainly in
tended to convey that idea, as appears
by the disposition of her hands; for they
are stretched out towards the executioner,
and one of them is before and the other
behind the Cross ; which gives an idea
of her hands having been round it ; and
it must be remembered, that she is ge
nerally represented kissing the feet of
Christ ; it is her place and employment
in those subjects. The good Centurion
ought not to be forgotten, who is leaning

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 319
forward, one hand on the other, resting Antwerp.
on the mane of his horse, while he looks
up to Christ with great earnestness.
The genius of Hubens no where ap
pears to more advantage than here : it is
the most carefully finished picture of all
his works. The whole is conducted with
the most consummate art ; the compo
sition is bold and uncommon, with cir
cumstances which no other painter had
ever before thought of; such as the
breaking of the limbs, and the expression
of the Magdalen, to which we may add
the disposition of the three crosses,which
are placed prospectively in an uncom
mon picturesque manner: the nearest
bears the thief whose limbs are break
ing ; the next the Christ, whose figure
is straiter than ordinary, as a contrast
to the others ; and the furthermost, the
penitent thief: this produces a most
picturesque effect, but it is what few
but such a daring genius as Rubens
would have attempted. It is here, and
in such compositions, we properly see

320 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. Rubens, and not in little pictures of
Madonnas and Bambinos. It appears
that Rubens made some changes in this
picture, after Bolswert had engraved his
print from it. The horseman who is in
the act of piercing the side of Christ,
holds the spear, according to the print,
in a very tame manner, with the back
of the hand over the spear, grasping it
with only three fingers, the fore-finger
straight lying on the spear ; whereas in
the picture, the back of the hand comes
under the spear, and he grasps it with
his whole force.
The other defect which is remedied
in the picture, is the action of the exe
cutioner, who breaks the legs of the cri
minal ; in the print both his hands are
over the bar of iron, which makes a false
action : in the picture the whole dispo
sition is altered to the natural manner
in which every person holds a weapon,
which* requires both hands ; the right is
placed over, and the left under it.

ERP.
V 

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 321
This print was undoubtedly done Antw
under the inspection of Rubens himself.
It may be worth observing, that the
keeping of the masses of light in the
print differs much from the picture : this
change is not from inattention, but
design : a different conduct is required in
a composition with colours, from what
ought to be followed when it is in black
and white only. We have here the au
thority of this great master of light and
shadow, that a print requires more and
larger masses of light, than a picture.
In this picture the principal and the
strongest light is the body of Christ,
whieh is of a remarkable clear and bright
colour ; this is strongly opposed by the
very brown complexion of the thieves,
(perhaps the opposition here is too vio
lent,) who make no great effect as light.
The Virgin's outer drapery is dark blue,
and the inner a dark purple ; and St.
John is in dark strong red ; no part of
these two figures is light in the picture,
but the head and hands of the Virgin ;
VOL. II. y

322 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp,

but in the print they make the principal
mass of light of the whole composition.
The engraver has certainly produced a
fine effect ; and I suspect it is as certain,
that if this change had not been made, it
would have appeared a black and heavy
print. When Rubens thought it necessary in
the print to make a mass of light of the
drapery of the Virgin and St. John, it
was likewise necessary that it should be
of a beautiful shape, and be kept com
pact ; it therefore became necessary to
darken the whole figure of the Mag
dalen, which in the picture is at least as
light as the body of Christ ; her head,
linen, arms, hair, and the feetvof Christ,
make a mass as light as the body of
Christ : it appears therefore, that some
parts are to be darkened, as well as other
parts made lighter ; this consequently is
a science which an engraver ought well
to understand, before he can presume
to venture on any alteration from the
picture which he means to represent.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 323
The same thing may be remarked in vA^™^-
many other prints by those engravers
who were employed by Rubens and
Vandyck ; they always gave more light
than they were warranted by the picture:
a circumstance which may merit the
attention of engravers.
I have dwelt longer on this picture
than any other, as it appears to me to
deserve extraordinary attention : it is
certainly one of the first pictures in the
world, for composition, colouring, and
what was not to be expected from
Rubens, correctness of drawing.
On one side of the great altar is a rubens.
small crucifix, painted likewise by
Rubens, which is admirable. — A print
by H. Sneyers.
In the same choiris anothercrucifixion f. florh.
by F. Floris, with a great number of
figures, many of them portraits, in
which there is great nature, especially
in the women. y 2

324 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. The altar of St. Francis, painted by
rubens. Rubens. The Saint is receiving the
1 communion, accompanied with many
of his order : he is nearly naked, without
dignity, and appears more like a lazar,
than a Saint. Though there are good
heads in this picture, yet the principal
figure being so disgustful, it does not
deserve much commendation. — A print
by Hendrick Sneyers.

Rubens.

The Virgin kneeling on a reversed
crescent, crowned by God the Father
and Christ ; over her is the dove, below
is a group of angels. There is nothing
here to be admired, but what relates to
colouring ; the splendour of the light
indeed, that is behind those three figures,
is very striking. — A print by Paulus
Pontius.

vandyck. A Pieta by Vandyck, with St. John,
and two angels. This has been one of
his most chaste pictures, but the colour
ing is gone. The expression of the
Virgin is admirable, at least equal to

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 325
that of Annibale Caracci, in the Duke Antwerp.
of Orleans's collection: it conveys an
idea that she is petitioning with an
earnest agony of grief. St. John is
showing or directing the attention of
an angel to Christ ; the other angel is
hiding his face.
The Virgin's drapery and the sky,
being exactly of the same colour, has a
bad effect ; the linen is remarkably well
folded. Behind the great altar is the chapel of rubens.
the family of the Burgo-master Rockox,
the altar of which is St. Thomas's Incre
dulity, by Rubens. The head of the
Christ is rather a good character, but
the body and arms are heavy : — it has
been much damaged. On the inside of
the two folding doors are portraits of
the Burgo-master and his wife, half
lengths : his is a fine portrait ; the ear
is remarkably well painted, and the
anatomy of the forehead is well under
stood. Her portrait has no merit but
y 3

326 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, that of colour. Vandyck likewise has
painted a portrait of Rockox, a print of
which is in his book of heads of eminent
men. It should seem that he was a
great patron of the arts : he gave to this
church the picture of the great altar,
which has been already mentioned.

Vand

Here is a whole length of Alexander
Scaglia, which appears to be of Vandyck.
It is at too great a distance to determine
with certainty in regard to its originality.
I have seen a print of this picture.

CAPUCHINS.
w.koe- On entering on the right hand is an
BERGER.' d
altar by W. Koeberger; angels support
ing a dead Christ. It has merit, but not
equal to his picture at Brussels : the out
line is not enough undulating or flowing.
rubens. The apparition of the Virgin to St.
Francis, by Rubens. St. Francis is on his
knees receiving the Infant Christ from
his mother : angels above, and another
figure behind. The Virgin and Christ are
1

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 327

Antwerp.

in a wretched hard manner, and the cha
racters are vulgar: there is indeed nothing
excellent in this picture but the head of
St. Francis, and that is exquisite. The
entire picture is engraved by Zoutman.
There is a print of the head of St. Francis
alone by Cor. Viseher.

In the following chapel is an altar by Backers.
Backereel : the apparition of the Virgin
appearing to St. Felix and another Friar.
This is a successful imitation of Van
dyck; the head of the Friar is excellent.
The great altar is the same subject as rubens.
that of the Recollets : Christ between
the two thieves : this is likewise by
Rubens. On each side hang two whole-lengths rubens.
of St. Peter and St. Paul, not much to
be admired on any account j they have
not even harmony of colouring. St.
Peter's yellow drapery does not unite
sufficiently with its ground, which is of
a cold colour : and that of St. Paul,
y 4

328 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, which is purple, unites too much with
"* its ground, which is a blue sky: this
gives a heavy appearance to the picture.
Whenever one sees a picture of Rubens
that wants union, it may be justly sus
pected that it has been in the hand
of some picture cleaner, by whom it
has been retouched. These two figures
are engraved in one print, by Rem.
Eynhovedts. ANNUNCIATION NUNS.
rubens. St. Justus, with two other figures
who appear astonished at seeing him
with his head in his hands. Of this
untoward subject Rubens has made an
admirable picture, correctly drawn, and
coloured in a more chaste manner than
usual. The surprise of the two men
is admirably expressed. The union
between the figures and the ground is
in the highest perfection. Some horse
men are seen at a distance in very spi
rited attitudes. Every part of this
picture is touched in such a style, that

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 329
it may be considered as a pattern for a^werp.
imitation. — Engraved by J. Witdonck.
An altar ; St. Francis in ecstacy, by segers.
Segers. The head and attitude of the
Saint are well imagined ; he is turning
his head, as if he had been looking
up to heaven ; but the eyes are closed.

EK
JN.

Another altar ; — two angels, bearing Lang
a linen cloth, on which is the face of
Christ, called Veronica ; a good imita
tion of Vandyck, by Langen Jan.
the church of bequinage.
The great altar ; a Pieta, by Van- vandyck,
dyck. The Christ is not, as usual,
supported on the Virgin's knees ; Mary
Magdalen is kissing his hand : St.
John behind, as if bringing in a gar
ment. The Virgin's head is admirable
for drawing and expression. The figure
of Christ is likewise finely drawn,
every part carefully determined, but
the colouring of this figure, and indeed
of the picture in general, is a little

330 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, too cold ; there is likewise something
defective in one of the hands of the
Virgin. I have the study which Van
dyck made for the Christ. — There are
two prints, by Pontius and Sneyers.
jordaens. A Crucifixion by J. Jordaens ; one
of his best coloured pictures. The
head of the Christ is lost in the shade,
which perhaps was not ill-judged, un
less he could have succeeded better in
the St. John and the Magdalen, which
are abominable characters.
Ruck- The Ascension by Ruckhorst, alias
HORST, J '
G^f" Langen Jan ; extremely well coloured,
in the manner of Vandyck.
THE CHURCH OF ST. JAMES.
Va'n Balen ^n *^e ^rst P^lar on ^e right as you
enter the great door, is the Resurrection,
by Van Balen, in the style of Rubens ;
it is his best work ; above are the por
traits of himself and his wife.
Schlt. A Pieta by C. Schut, well drawn and

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 331
coloured, something in the manner of Antwerp
Rubens. Behind the choir is the chapel of the R»mn>.
family of Rubens. The subject of the
altar is the Virgin and Infant Christ,
St. Jerome, St. George, Mary Magda
len, and other Saints, male and female.
Under the character of St. George, it
is supposed, is Rubens's own portrait ;
and Mary Magdalen and the Saint near
her, are said to be the portraits of his
two wives. For effect of colours this
yields to none of Rubens's works, and
the characters have more beauty than is
common with him.
To a painter who wishes to become a
colourist, or learn the art of producing
a brilliant effect, this picture is as well
worth the studying as any in Antwerp ;
it is as bright as if the sun shone on
it. — There are two prints of this pic
ture, one by P. Pontius, and the other
by Rem. Eynhovedts ; the last has more
of the effect of the picture.

Van
He EM SEN.

332 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. The Last Judgement, by Van Heem-
sen. It has no effect from the figures
not being disposed in groups, and from
the light being equally dispersed over
the picture. On the doors are por
traits ; on one side the father with four
sons, on the other' the mother with
ten daughters, and a tall figure with a
sword, probably St. Catharine. The
old woman looks pleased, and is a
very natural countenance ; all of them
are handsome, and admirably drawn:
but the manner is very dry, like that of
Holbein. The old Gothick school suc
ceeds much better in portraits than his
tory ; the reason is plain ; imitating ex
actly what we see in nature, makes but
a poor historical picture, but an admi
rable portrait. THE ACADEMY OF PAINTERS.
rubens. we found here an Holy Family, by
Rubens, which is far from being one
of his best pictures ; it is that in which
there is a parrot on the pedestal of a
pillar, biting vine tendrils. By what

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 333
accident this picture came here I never Antwerp.
heard : it is scarce worthy to be consi
dered as a pattern for imitation, though
it must be acknowledged to be as well
as many others of Rubens, which are
dispersed about the world : its merit
consists solely in being well coloured.
It is not by such pictures Rubens ac
quired his reputation. — A print by
Bolswert. Here is a good portrait of a priest, Vandyck.
by Vandyck, and the portraits of Fran- f.floris.
¦p, . 1 r\ • • hit i Quintin
cis .bloris, and Quintin Matsys, by Matsys.
themselves. There, are likewise some
ordinary pictures of Otho Venius, Jor- otho
. Venius.
daens, Schut, and other less consider- Jordaens.
Schut.
able painters : the Academy therefore
is scarce worth seeing for any excel
lency in works of art. Here is shown
Rubens's chair with his name on it.
The Cabinets make but a very in
considerable figure in Antwerp, in com
parison of what is to be found in the
churches. Those of M. Peters and

33* A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp. ]yf# Dasch are two of the most con
siderable.

THE CABINET OF M. PETERS.
rubens. A Roman Charity by Rubens, in his
very best manner: the woman who is
suckling her father is one of his most
beautiful heads, and it has likewise
great expression.
rubens. The inside of a stable by Rubens, in
which he has introduced the Prodigal
Son feeding with hogs : the whole has
too much of a monotony ; there wants
variety of colours.
Rubens. The unbelieving Priest, and another
figure, attending at the altar, by Rubens;
it is about half-life ; of great harmony
of colouring.
rubsns. A Chancellor of Brabant, and another
half-length, by Rubens.
vandyck. Three whole-lengths by Vandyck.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 335
A half-length portrait, by Vandyck, Antwerp.
of a lady gathering flowers ; she is turn- Vandyck.
ing her back, and looking over her
shoulder, with a very genteel air.
St. John preaching in the wilderness, mola.
by Mola. THE CABINET OF M. DASCH.
At M. Dasch's is an admirable pic- Rube«.
ture of Rubens ; the story of Seleucus
and Stratonice. The languishing air of
the son, who is lying on a bed, is emi
nently beautiful : the whole is well
composed. A woman with a black veil, and a Rubens.
gentleman, by Rubens ; both fine por
traits, especially the woman.
Two Rembrandts, but not in his best R™-
BRANDT.
style. Opposite to the Rubens, is a Jupiter vandyck.
and Antiope, by Vandyck, (his first
manner,) in perfect preservation. I

336 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, think it is impossible for colours to ex
ceed this picture in brilliancy.
CABINET OF M. VAN HAVEREN.
Rubens. M. Van Haveren has an admirable
portrait by Rubens, known by the name
of Chapeau de Paile, from her having
on her head a hat and feather, airily put
on ; it has a wonderful transparency of
colour, as if seen in the open air : it is
upon the whole a very striking portrait;
but her breasts are as ill drawn as they
are finely coloured.
Vandyck. Its companion, though equally well
painted, from not having the same ad
vantage of dress receives no attention.
mr. stevens's cabinet.
rubens. We must not forget a fine portrait of a
gentleman by Rubens which we saw at
the house of Mr. Stevens. And at the
house of M. LE CHANOINE VAN PARYS.
A portrait of Helena Forman, (Kitcat,)

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 337

by Rubens ; it is beautifully coloured, Antwerp.
but a painter would say tamely painted,
from the long-continued lines of the eyes
and mouth : this however appears only
on a close inspection : for at a distance
it seems perfectly well drawn, and an
animated countenance ; the hands are
across, or rather one over the other,
finely coloured and drawn ; the ends of
the fingers a little too thick for a fine
hand : she is dressed in black, with
slashed sleeves.
THE CABINET OF M. DIRXENS.
Judas betraying Christ, by Vandyck : Vandyck.
it is in his first manner, but not equal to
others which I have seen of that age ;
the colouring is disagreeable, from being
too red.

AT MADAM BOSCHAERTS.
The Rape of the Sabines, by Rubens
is finely coloured and well composed.
This picture is to be sold, if any body
chooses to give for it 22,000 guilders,
VOL. II. z

Rubens.

336 A JOURNEY TO
Antwerp, about two thousand two hundred
pounds. Taking leave of Flanders, we bade
adieu at the. same time to History Paint
ing. Pictures are no longer the orna
ment of churches, and perhaps for that
reason no longer the ornament of private
houses. We naturally acquire, a taste
for what we have frequently before our
eyes. No great historical picture is put
up, which excites the curiosity of the
town to see, and tempts the opulent to
procure as an ornament to his own
house : nothing of this kind being seen,
historical paintings are not thought of,
and go out of fashion ; and the genius
of the country, which, if room were
given it, would expand itself, is exer
cised in small curious high-finished
cabinet pictures.
It is a circumstance to be regretted,
by painters at least, that the Protestant
countries have thought properto exclude

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 339
pictures from their churches : how far
this circumstance may be the cause that
no Protestant country has ever produced
a history-painter, may be worthy of
consideration. When we separated from the Church
of Rome, many customs, indifferent in
themselves, were considered as wrong,
for no other reason, perhaps, but because
they were adopted by the Communion
from which we separated. Among the
excesses which this sentiment produced,
may be reckoned the impolitick exclu
sion of all ornaments from our churches.
The violence and acrimony with which
the separation was made, being now at
an end, it is high time to assume that
reason of which our zeal seemed to have
bereaved us. Why religion should not
appear pleasing and amiable in its
appendages ; why the house of God
should not appear as well ornamented,
and as costly as any private house made
for man, no good reason I believe can be
assigned. This truth is acknowledged,
z 2

340 A JOURNEY TO
in regard to the external building, in
Protestant as well as in Roman Catholick
countries : churches are always the most
magnificent edifices in every city : and
why the inside should not correspond
with its exterior, in this and every
other protestant country, it would be
difficult for Protestants to state any rea
sonable cause.
Many other causes have been assigned,
why history painting has never flou
rished in this country ; but with such a
reason at hand we need not look farther.
Let there be buyers, who are the true
Mascenases, and we shall soon see sellers,
vying with each other in the variety
and excellence of their works. To those
who think that wherever genius is, it
must, like fire, blaze out, this argument
is not addressed; but those who consider
it not as a gift, but a power acquired
by long labour and study, should reflect
that no man is likely to undergo the
fatigue required to carry any art to any
degree of excellence, to which after he

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 341
has done, the world is likely to pay no
attention.

Sculpture languishes for the same
reason, being not with us made sub
servient to our religion, as it is with
the Roman Catholicks. Almost the only
demand for considerable works of sculp
ture arises from the monuments erected
to eminent men. It is to be regretted
that this circumstance does not produce
such an advantage to the art as it might
do, if, instead of Westminster- Abbey,
the custom were once begun of having
monuments to departed worth erected
in St. Paul's Cathedral. Wesminster-
Abbey is already full ; and if the House
of Commons should vote another monu
ment at the publick expence, there is
no place, no proper place certainly, in
the Abbey, in which it can be placed.
Those which have been lately erected,
are so stuck up in odd holes and corners,
that it begins to appear truly ridiculous :
the principal places have been long oc
cupied, and the difficulty of finding a
z 3

342 A JOURNEY TO
new nook or corner every year increases.
While this Gothick structure is encum
bered and overloaded with ornaments
which have no agreement or corre
spondence with the taste and style of the
building, St. Paul's looks forlorn and de
solate, or at least destitute of ornaments
suited to the magnificence of the fabrick.
There are places designed by Sir Christo
pher Wren for monuments, which might
become a noble ornament to the build
ing, if properly adapted to their situa
tions. Some parts might contain busts,
some single figures, some groups of
figures, some bas-reliefs, and some tablets
with inscriptions only, according to the
expence intended by him who should
cause the monument to be erected. All
this might be done under the direction
of the Royal Academy, who should
determine the size of the figures, and
where they should be placed, so as to be
ornamental to the building.*
* Our author considered the plan which he has
here sketched, as likely to be extremely beneficial
to the Arts, and was so desirous that it should be

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND.

343

THE HAGUE. Hacue.

Passing by Dort, Rotterdam, and
Delft, where we saw no pictures, we
proceeded to the Hague. Theprincipal
collection here is in the gallery of the
Prince of Orange, in which are many
excellent pictures, principally of the
Dutch school.

GALLERY OF THE PRINCE OF
ORANGE.
Here are many of the best works
of Wouvermans, whose pictures are well

carried into execution, that after it had been deter
mined to erect a monument to Dr. Johnson in
Westminster- Abbey, and a place had been assigned
for that purpose, he exerted all his influence with
his friends, to induce them to relinquish the scheme
proposed, and to consent that the monument of
that excellent man should be erected in St. Paul's ;
where it has since been placed. — In conformity
with these sentiments, our author was buried in
that cathedral ; in which, I trust, Monuments to
him, and to his illustrious friend, Mr. Burke, will
ere long be erected. M.
z 4

WOUVE MANS.

344 A JOURNEY TO

v.

hague. worthy the attention and close exami-
v nation of a Painter. One of the most
remarkable of them is known by the
name of the hay-cart : another in
which there is a coach and horses, is
equally excellent. There are three
pictures hanging close together in his
three different manners : his middle
manner is by much the best ; the first
and last have not that liquid softness
which characterises his best works. Be
side his great skill in colouring, his
horses are correctly drawn, very spirited,
of a beautiful form, and always in unison
with their ground. Upon the whole,
he is one of the few painters, whose
excellence in his way is such as leaves
nothing to be wished for.

Rem
brandt.

A study of a Susanna, for the picture
by Rembrandt, which is in my posses
sion : it is nearly the same action, except
that she is here sitting. This is the third
study I have seen for this figure. I have
one myself, and the third was in the
possession of the late Mr. Blackwood.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 345
In the drawing which he made for this Hague.
picture, which I have, she is likewise
sitting ; in the picture she is on her legs,
but leaning forward. It appears very
extraordinary that Rembrandt should
have taken so much pains, and have
made at last so very ugly and ill-favoured
a figure; but his attention was principally
directed to the colouring and effect, in
which it must be acknowledged he has
attained the highest degree of excellence.
A picture of Dutch gallantry, by m.erjs.
Mieris ; a man pinching the ear of a
dog which lies on his mistress's lap.
A boy blowing bubbles. mibru.
Two Vandeveldes. v

ANDI-
VELDE.

Two portraits, Kitcat size, by Rubens, rus
of his two wives ; both fine portraits,
but Eleanor Forman is by far the most
beautiful, and the best coloured.
A portrait by Vandyck of Simon the \v

346 A JOURNEY TO

— v

haoue. painter. This is one of the very few
pictures that can be seen of Vandyck,
which is in perfect preservation ; and on
examining it closely it appeared to me
a perfect pattern of portrait-painting:
every part is distinctly marked, but with
the lightest hand, and without destroying
the breadth of light : the colouring is
perfectly true to nature, though it has
not the brilliant effect of sun-shine, such
as is seen in Rubens's wife : it is nature
seen by common day-light.

Rem
brandt.

Holbein.

A portrait of a young man by Rem
brandt, dressed in a black cap and fea
thers, the upper part of the face over
shadowed : for colouring and force
nothing can exceed it.
A portrait by Holbein ; admirable for
its truth and precision, and extremely
well coloured. The blue flat ground
which is behind the head, gives a
general effect of dryness to the picture :
had the ground been varied, and made
to harmonise more with the figure, this

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 347
portrait might have stood in competition ha
with the works of the best portrait-
painters. On it is written, — " Henry
Chessman, 1533."
A whole-length portrait of Charles £tNKY
the First, about a foot long, dressed in
black, the crown and globe lying on the
table, tolerably well painted by Henry
Pott, a name I am unacquainted with :
— the date on it 1632.*
The flight into Egypt, by Vander- VanDEr-
werf ; one of his best : the back-ground
is much cracked, an accident not unfre-
quent in his pictures.
A conversation by Terburg, a woman Terburq.
sitting on the ground leaning her elbow
• Henry Pott, according to Descamps, was of
Harlem, and drew portraits of the King and Queen
of England, and of the principal nobility ; but at
what time is not specified. Lord Orford (Anecd.
of Paint, iii. 293. 8vo.) suggests, that he probably
drew Charles II. in his exile ; but the date here
given shews that he was in England in the early
part of his father's reign.

348 A JOURNEY TO
Hague, on a man's knee, and resting her head
on her hand.

teniers. a kitchen by Teniers.
ostade. Two Ostades.
rubens. j± landscape by Rubens; light and
airy. It is engraved amongst the set of
prints of Rubens's landscapes ; it is that
where two men are sawing the trunk of
a tree.
vanotc*. The Virgin and Christ, by Vandyck,
coloured in the manner of Rubens ; so
much so, as to appear at first sight to
be of his hand ; but the character of
the child shows it to be Vandyck' s.
poussin. Venus asleep on the bank of a canal,
her reflection seen in the water ; a satyr
drawing off the drapery ; two Cupids :
she is lying with her back upwards.
r-hter. Cattle, finely painted by Potter, re-

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 349
markable for the strong reflection of one Hague.
of them in the water: dated 1648.
Two pictures of flowers and fruits Brueghel
with animals by Brueghel ; one serves
for a border to a bad portrait ; the other
to a picture of Rothenamer : the frames
are much better than the pictures.
The inside of Delft church byHoogest, hoogest.
in which is represented the tomb of
William Prince of Orange ; it is painted
in the manner of Dewit, but I think
better: dated 1651.
Fruit by De Heem ; done with the de heem.
utmost perfection.
A portrait of a lady, with a feather in Vandyck.
her hand, by Vandyck ; of which there
is a print.
A woman with a candle, by Gerard ^Ra
Dow : engraved by Captain Baillie.
A woman writing, looking up, meTzu.

350 A JOURNEY TO
, H'°_t"y and speaking to another person; by
Metzu.
Jan steek. Here are many of Jan Steen, excel
lently well painted, but I think they
have less character and expression than
is usual in his pictures.
There are some large pictures which
take up too much room in this small
gallery, more than their merit gives
them any claim to ; among which is a
very large picture of Adam and Eve,
said to be of Andrea Sacchi, which has
been so much repaired, that no judge
ment can be formed who is the author.

Snyders

A large hunting by Snyders, well
painted, but it occupies too much space.
His works, from the subjects, their size,
and we may add, from their being so
common, seem to be better suited to a
hall or ante-room, than any other place.
THE HOUSE IN THE WOOD.
In the house in the Wood, about a

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 351
mile out of town, we saw no pictures J*'"011;^
except those in the hall, which is paint
ed on every side ; and every recess and
corner has some allegorical story, by
Jordaens, Van Tulden, Lievens, or jordaens.VanTul-
Honthorst. The different hands that den.
Lievens.
have been here employed, make variety H°f-

THORST.

it is true; but it is variety of
wretchedness. A triumphal entry,
by Jordaens, is the best, and this is but
a confused business ; the only part which
Reserves any commendation is, the four
horses of the chariot, which are well
painted : it is remarkable that the fore
leg of each of the horses is raised, which
gives them the formality of trained
soldiers. GREFFIER FAGEL.
Charles the First, the same as that h. ivrr.
in the gallery of the Prince : to this is
added the Queen, and a child sitting on
the table ; the child is admirable.

A man driving cattle.

Berghem.

352 A JOURNEY TO
Hague. ^ a girl receiving a letter from an
Terburg. 0\r\ Woman.

GerardDow.

Vandyck.

A woman asleep, a man putting aside
her handkerchief; another laughing.

brower. A family, by Brower.
teniers. a chymist, by Teniers. .
A portrait of a lady, by Vandyck.
The Greffier has likewise a large and
choice collection of drawings, many of
which were bought in England, as
appears from the marks of Sir Peter
Lely and Richardson; and those are
in general much superior to what he
purchased from Baron Stosck.
THE CABINET OF M. VAN HECHEREN.
Two pictures by .Ostade.
A Berghem.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 353
Two of I. Steen. . H*

iAOUE.

Honder-KOOTER.

A Vanderheyden.
A Wouvermans.
Birds small, mushrooms and weeds.
Flowers by Huysum, Mignon, and
De Heem ; the last is the best.
A skirmish, where there is a mill on ™°DJtR"
fire; admirable.
A Vanderwerf.
A Metzu.
A sketch of Rubens ; Christ carrying Ru»fN5-
the Cross.
A Bega, and a Polemburg.
A figure in white sattin, by Terburg.

A Landscape, by Paul Potter ; the {£
animals admirably painted, the trees too
much like wire.
A Du Jardin.
VOL. II. a A

UL
Potter.

HlLBT.

354 A JOURNEY TO
Amster-
JZ—j AMSTERDAM. — the stadthouse.
vander The best picture in this house is
painted by Vander Heist. It represents
a company of trained bands, about thirty
figures, whole-length ; among which
the Spanish Ambassador is introduced,
shaking hands with one of the principal
figures. This is perhaps the first pic
ture of portraits, in the world, compre
hending more of those qualities which
make a perfect portrait, than any other I
have ever seen: they are correctly drawn,
both heads and figures, and well co
loured ; and have great variety of action,
characters, and countenances, and those
so lively, and truly expressing what they
are about, that the spectator has nothing
to wish for. Of this picture I had
before heard great commendations ; but
it as far exceeded my expectation, as
that of Rembrandt fell below it. So far
indeed am I from thinking that this last
picture deserves its great reputation,
that it was with difficulty I could per
suade myself that it was painted by

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 355
Rembrandt ; it seemed to me to have
more of the yellow manner of Boll. The
name of Rembrandt, however, is cer
tainly upon it, with the date, 1642, It
appears to have been much damaged,
but what remains seems to be painted in
a poor manner. There are here many
more large pictures of the same kind,
with thirty or forty heads in each ; they
are as old as the time of Holbein, in his
manner, and many of them nearly as
well painted. I wished to learn the
names of the artists, as they are doubt
less the works of painters well known in
the history of the art ; but I could get no
information. A Frize over one of the doors in chiaro d* Witt.
oscuro, by De Witt, is not only one of
the best deceptions I have seen, but the
boys are well drawn ; the cieling and
side of the room in colours are likewise
by him, but a poor performance. The
academy of painting is a part of this im
mense building : in it are two admirable
pictures, composed entirely of portraits :
A A 2

f}56 A JOURNEY TO
one by Rembrandt, and the other by
Bartholomew Vander Heist. That of
Rembrandt contains six men dressed in
black; one of them, who has a book
before him, appears to have been reading
a lecture ; the top of the table not seen.
The heads are finely painted, but not
superior to those of his neighbour. The
subject of Vander Heist is the society of
archers bestowing a premium : they
appear to be investing some person with
an order. The date on this is 1657 ; on
the Rembrandt 1661.
THE WHARF OFFICE.
velde. At the office of the Commissary of
the Wharfs is one of Vandervelde's most
capital pictures : it is about twelve feet
long ; a view of the Port of Amsterdam,
with an infinite quantity of shipping.

Rembrandt.

surgeons' hall.
The Professor Tulpius dissecting a
corpse which lies on the table, by Rem
brandt. To avoid making it an object
disagreeable to look at, the figure is

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 357
but just cut at the wrist. There are amster
« DAM.
seven other portraits coloured like na- ' — ""— '
ture itself, fresh and highly finished.
One of the figures behind has a paper
in his hand, on which are written the
names of the rest : Rembrandt has also
added his own name, with the date, 1672.
The dead body is perfectly well drawn,
(a little foreshortened,) and seems to
have been just washed. Nothing can
be more truly the colour of dead flesh.
The legs and feet, which are nearest
the eye, are in shadow : the principal
light, which is on the body, is by that
means preserved of a compact form. All
these figures are dressed in black.
Above stairs is another Rembrandt, Rem-
BRANDT,
of the same kind of subject ; Professor
Deem an standing by a dead body, which
is so much foreshortened, that the hands
and the feet almost touch each other :
the dead man lies on his back with his
feet towards the spectator. There is
something sublime in the character of
the head, which reminds one of Michael
a a 3

35S A JOURNEY TO
amster- Angelo ; the whole is finely painted, the
colouring much like Titian.
THE CABINET OF MR. HOPE.
honder- Two swans, ducks, and peacocks ;
admirable.

HOOTER.

j. Stern. Merry making, two of the figures
dancing.
weenini A dead swan, and dead hare : perfect
every way ; beyond Hondecooter.
An excellent Vanderheyden.
A Du Jardin ; like Potter, but better
than that which hangs below it.
Two little beautiful Vanderveldes.
A Rothenamer.
ostade. Three figures, very natural : by
Ostade.

Dow

ger^d A woman asleep ; a figure^ tickling
her nose ; a man lighting his pipe ; a
lantern, and a woman with a candle,
behind.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 359
The Virgin in the clouds, surrounded amster-
° DAM.
with angels, by Vandyck. ' — /-— '
° J J Vandyck.

ERT
CuYE.

Cattle and a shepherd, by Albert alb
Cuyp, the best I ever saw of him ; and
the figure is likewise better than usual :
but the employment which he has given
the shepherd in his solitude is not very
poetical : it must, however, be allowed
to be truth and nature ; he is catching
fleas or something worse.
A Vandervelde. Vandir"velde.
A Terburg. A lady playing on a terburg.
guitar, dressed as usual in a white sattin
petticoat, and a red gown edged with
ermine. A Wouvermans. — A Gabriel Metzu.
— A Berghem. — A Metzu.
Dead game, small, by P. Gyzen ; gyze*.
highly finished, and well coloured.
A Wouvermans, the best I ever saw. wopver-
MANS.
A gentleman and lady on horseback;
he has an umbrella in his hand, and he
A a 4

360

A JOURNEY TO
is talking to another horseman who has
his hat off: a man before them playing
on a bag-pipe, followed by a man and
woman dancing ; behind, at a distance,
1 other figures dancing to another musician,
who stands elevated against a great tree.
a. vander- A Landscape by Adrian Vandervelde ;
VELDE. „
very fine.
vander- A View of a church by Vanderhey-
den, his best ; two black friars going
up steps. Notwithstanding this picture
is finished as usual very minutely, he
has not forgot to preserve, at the same
time, a great breadth of light. His
pictures have very much the effect of
nature, seen in a camera obscura.
The inside of the great church at
Antwerp, by Peter Neefs.
a. vander- A Landscape by Adrian Vandervelde ;
the outside of a garden : the highest and
most successfully finished picture that
perhaps there is in the world, of this
painter \ it is beautifully coloured, and

VELDE.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 361
has vast force. The cattle are finely aMSter-
drawn, and in very difficult attitudes. « — /— »
A view of Campo Vaccino, by Lin- lingh-
glebach. The death of Cleopatra, by Lairesse. l^resse.
Her figure is well drawn, and in an
attitude of great grace; but the style
is degraded by the naturalness of the
white sattin, which is thrown over her.
A woman lies dead at the feet of the
bed. This picture is as highly finished
as a Vanderwerf, but in a much better
style, excepting the drapery, which is
not equal to Vanderwerf. Vanderwerf
painted what may be truly called dra
pery ; this of Lairesse is not drapery, it
is white sattin.
A dead stag, by Weeninx. weeninx.
An oyster-feast by J. Steen, in which J-Steen.
is introduced an excellent figure of
old Mieris, standing with his hands
behind him.
A woman reading a letter; the milk- RWr.
woman who brought it, is in the mean

362 A JOURNEY TO
time drawing a curtain, a little on one
side, in order to see the picture under
it, which appears to be a sea-view.
back- A large and capital picture of Back-
HUYSEN.
huysen.
vander- Three pictures of Vanderwerf; a
WERF Magdalen, Lot and his daughters, Christ
and St. Thomas. The drapery of St.
Thomas is excellent ; the folds long
continued unite with each other, and
are varied with great art.
g.dow. a woman at a window with a hare
in her hand ; bright colouring, and
well drawn : a dead cock, cabbage, and
carrots, lying before her. The name
of Gerard Dow is written on the lan
tern which hangs on one side. The
space under the window is filled with
the bas-relief of boys with a goat, which
he so often painted, after Fiamingo.
This part is at least equally well painted
with the figure.
An old man by Mieris, with a glass
of wine and shrimps on the table : a

Mieris.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 363
woman behind, scoring the reckoning ; amster-
a fiddle lying in the window. v— - v — '
Christ asleep in the storm, by Rem- Rem-
1 J BRANDT.
brandt. In this picture there is a great
effect of light, but it is carried to a degree
of affectation.
The Assumption of the Virgin, by Vandyck.
Vandyck; a faint picture, at least it
appears so in comparison of those con
tiguous : it unluckily hangs near a Rem
brandt. She is surrounded by little
angels ; one of them is peeping archly
at you under a bundle of drapery, with
which he has covered himself: this
comicalness is a little out of its place. —
There is a print by Vorsterman.
THE CABINET OF M. GART.
This house is full of pictures, from
the parlour to the upper story. We
begin at the top.
Two fine pictures of Terburg j the terburg.
white sattin remarkably well painted.

364 A JOURNEY TO
He seldom omitted to introduce a piece
of white sattin in his pictures. As I
reprobated the white sattin in the picture
of the death of Cleopatra by Lairesse,
and make no objection here, it must be
remembered that the subject of Laires-
se's picture is heroick, and he has treated
it in the true historical style, in every
respect, except in his white sattin ; but
in such pictures as Terburg painted, the
individuality and naturalness of the re
presentation makes a considerable part
of the merit.
weeninx. Dead swans by Weeninx, as fine as
possible. I suppose we did not see less
than twenty pictures of dead swans by
this painter.

WOUVER- MANI. Vander-HEYDEN

A Harvest, by Wouvermans.
A Canal, by Vanderheyden, highly
finished, and finely coloured.

j.steen. Snick and Snee, by Jan Steen.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 36£
A butcher's shop, an ox hanging amster-
up, opened, by Rembrandt : a woman *- — « — »»
looking over a hatch, so richly coloured,
that it makes all the rest of the picture
seem dry.
The pillaging of a village by Turks, a weeninx.
soldier driving off the cattle ; well com
posed and finely coloured.
A trumpeter at a window, by G. GDow-
Dow ; his face in shadow ; his hand
receives the principal light : admirably
drawn and coloured.
St. Peter and St. Paul curing the lame eeckhout.
man, by Eeckhout. Some parts of this
picture are so exactly like Rembrandt,
that a connoisseur might without dis
grace at first sight mistake it for his.
An old woman with a large book g.metzu.
before her, looking up at a bird in a
cage, by Metzu : one of the best of
this master.
Travellers resting on the road, their Louver-

S66 A JOURNEY TO
amster- galled horses grazing by them : a
Wouvermans.
honde- Two Hondekoeters.
KOETER.

vander- A conversation of portraits, by Van-
derhelst.

HEIST.

vander. Cattle, by Adrian Vandervelde.
VELDE. J
jordasnl Bacchanalians, by Jordaens.
j. steen. Drinking and gaming, by J. Steen,
a large composition of about twenty
figures, well drawn and coloured : one
of the women, who has thrown her leg
over a bagpipe-player, has a great degree
of beauty.
teniers. Two Teniers ; guard-rooms.
A Paul Potter.
Another Jan Steen.
van de Still-life, by Van de Hende, a won
derful instance of patience in finishing,
particularly a globe, on which is seen
the map of Europe.
Flowers, by V. Huysum.

Hende

DAM.
— V

ICTOR,
school of
Rubens.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 367
A Bamboccio. amstpr-
An admirable portrait by Rubens.
A portrait, by Frank Hals.
A portrait, by Rembrandt.
THE CABINET OF M. LE BRUN.
Dead hare, &c. by Weeninx.
Tobias taking leave of his father : his v'c
mother with a spinning-wheel.
A fresh gale, by Everdingen ; like ever-
Backhuysen, but the light mellower.
A woman pouring milk from one d.vander-
L ° meere.
vessel to another : by D. Vandermeere.
Cattle by Vander Does ; admirable, v^«
with great facility.
A nativity, by Polemberg. J^M-
A Linglebach, a Vanderheyden, and
a Crabache.A group of ships, by Vandervelde; vander-
a calm : admirable.

386 A JOURNEY TO
amster- Flower-pieces, by Rachael Roos.
£*™AEl A view of a country-house, by Berk-
Berkhey- heyden : a little harder than Vander
heyden.

DEN

C. Ma
ratti.

St. John writing the Apocalypse ; two
boy angels; the Virgin in the clouds.
It is a rare instance to see an Italian
picture here.
terburg. Portraits of Terburg and his wife,
small whole-lengths.

J. Steen.

A woman with a child sucking, a boy
beating a drum ; behind, figures drink
ing : over a door is written — Salus
patriae, with Jan Steen's name in
gold letters. There is great force in
this picture.

wouver- The pillaging of a village, by Wou
vermans.
p.Hooot. Inside of a room, with a woman
and child. Its companion, a woman
sweeping.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 369
The account which has now been dutch
f 1 T\ 1 -r SfcuOOL.
given of the Dutch pictures is, I con
fess, more barren of entertainment,
than I expected. One would wish to
be able to convey to the reader some
idea of that excellence, the sight of
which has afforded so much pleasure ;
but as their merit often consists in the
truth of representation alone, whatever
praise they deserve, whatever pleasure
they give when under the eye, they
make but a poor figure in description.
It is to the eye only that the works of
this school are addressed ; it is not there
fore to be wondered at, that what was
intended solely for the gratification of
one sense, succeeds but ill, when ap
plied to another.
A market-woman with a hare in her
hand, a man blowing a trumpet, or a
boy blowing bubbles, a view of the
inside or outside of a church, are the
subjects of some of their most 'valuable
pictures; but there is still entertain-
VOL. II. b b

Dutch
School.

370 A JOURNEY TO
ment, even in such pictures ; however
uninteresting their subjects, there is
some pleasure in the contemplation of
the truth of the imitation. But to a
painter they afford likewise instruc
tion in his profession ; here he may learn
the art of colouring and composition, a
skilful management of light and shade,
and indeed all the mechanical parts of
the art, as well as in any other school
whatever. The same skill which is
practised by Rubens and Titian in,
their large works, is here exhibited,
though on a smaller scale. Painters
should go to the Dutch school to learn
the art of painting, as they would go
to a grammar school to learn languages.
They must go to Italy to learn the higher
branches of knowledge.
We must be contented to make up
our idea of perfection from the excel
lencies which are dispersed over the
world. A poetical imagination, expres
sion, character, or even correctness of
drawing, are seldom united with that

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 371
power of colouring, which would set s^"™.
off those excellencies to the best advan
tage : and in this, perhaps, no school
ever excelled the Dutch. An artist, by
a close examination of their works, may
in a few hours make himself master
of the principles on which they
wrought, which cost them whole ages,
and perhaps the experience of a suc
cession of ages, to ascertain.
The most considerable of the Dutch
school are, Rembrandt, Teniers, Jan
Steen, Ostade, Brouwer, Gerard Dow,
Mieris, Metzu, and Terburg: these
excel in small conversations. For
landscapes and cattle, Wouvermans,
P. Potter, Berchem, and Ruysdaal ;
and for buildings, Vanderheyden. For
sea-views, W. Vandervelde, jun. and
Backhuysen. For dead game, Weeninx
and Hondekoeter. For flowers, De
Heem, Vanhuysum, Rachael Roos,
and Brueghel. These make the bulk
of the Dutch school. bb 2

372 A JOURNEY TO

Dutch
School.

I consider those painters as belonging
to this school, who painted only small
conversations, landscapes, &c. Though
some of those were born in Flanders,
their works are principally found in
Holland: and to separate them from
the Flemish school, which generally
painted figures large as life, it appears
to me more reasonable to class them
with the Dutch painters, and to dis
tinguish those two schools rather by
their style and manner, than by the
place where the artist happened to be
born. Rembrandt may be considered as be
longing to both or either, as he painted
both large and small pictures.
The works of David Teniers, jun.
are worthy the closest attention of a
painter, who desires to excel in the
mechanical knowledge of his art. His
manner of touching, or what we call
handling, has perhaps never been
equalled ; there is in his pictures that

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 373
exact mixture of softness and sharp- £°™
ness, which is difficult to execute.
Jan Steen has a strong manly style
of painting, which might become even
the design of Raffaelle, and he has
shown the greatest skill in composition,
and management of light and shadow,
as well as great truth in the expression
and character of his figures.
The landscapes of Ruysdaal have not
only great force, but have a freshness
which is seen in scarce any other
painter. What excellence in colouring
and handling is to be found in the dead
game of Weeninx.
A clearness and brilliancy of colour
ing may be learned by examining the
flower pieces of De Heem, Huysum,
and Mignon ; and a short time employed
in painting flowers would make no im
proper part of a painter's study. Ru
bens's pictures strongly remind one of
a nosegay of flowers, where all the
bb 3

374 A JOUtiNEY TO
dutch colours are bright, clear, and trans-
School. O
parent* I have only to add, that in this
account of the Dutch pictures, which is
indeed little more than a catalogue, I
have mentioned only those which I
considered worthy of attention. It is
not to be supposed that those are the
whble of the Cabinets described ; per
haps in a collection of near a hundred
pictures, not ten are set down : their
being mentioned at all, therefore, though
no epithet may be added, implies ex
cellence. I have been more particular in the
account of Mr. Hope's Cabinet, not
only because it is acknowledged to be
the first in Amsterdam, but because
I had an opportunity (by the particular
attention and civility of its possessors)
of seeing it oftener, and considering it
more at my leisure, than any other
collection.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 375

DUSSELDORP GALLERY.
This gallery is under the care of Mr.
Lambert Kraye, who likewise is the
director of the Academy.
The easy access which you have to
this collection of pictures, seeing it as
often, and staying in it as long as you
please, without appearing to incommode
any body, cannot but be very pleasing
to strangers, and very advantageous to
the students in painting, who seem to
have the same indulgence; for we found
many copying in the gallery, and others
in a large room above stairs, which is
allotted for that purpose. I could not
help expressing to Mr. Kraye the plea
sure I felt, not only at the great conve-
niency with which I saw the gallery,
but likewise at the great indulgence
granted to the students. He said it was
the Elector's wish to afford the most
perfect accommodation to those who
visit the collection : but in regard to the
students, he took some credit to himself
b b 4

DuSSEL- DOKP.

376 A JOURNEY TO
in procuring for them that advantage.
When he first asked the Elector's leaye
for students to copy the pictures in the
gallery, the Prince refused; and the
reason he assigned was, that those copies
afterwards would be sold for originals,
and thus by multiplying, depreciate
the value of the collection. Mr. Kraye
answered, that those who could make
such copies were not persons who spent
their time in copying at all, but made
originals of their own invention ; that
the young students were not likely to
make such copies as would pass for ori
ginals with any b lit the ignorant; and
that the mistakes of the ignorant were
not worth attention : he added, that as
his Highness wished to produce artists
in his own country, the refusing such
advantages to young students would be
as unwise as if a patron of learning, who
wished to produce scholars, should refuse
them the use of a library. The Elector
acquiesced, and desired him to do what
ever he thought would contribute to
advance the art.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 377
DuSSEL- DOKP.
FIRST ROOM. v- — »  '
The first picture which strikes the eye Jordaens.
on entering the gallery, is a Merry
making of Jordaens, which is by far the
best picture I ever saw of his hand.
There is a glow of colours throughout,
and vast force ; every head and every
part perfectly well drawn : vulgar,
tumultuous merriment was never better
expressed : and for colouring and
strength, few pictures of Rubens are
superior. There is a little grey about
the women's dress ; the rest are all
warm colours, and strong shades.
Four whole-length pictures by Van- Vasdyct.
dyck, all dressed in black ; three men
and one woman. They are all fine por
traits, in his high-finished manner.
Christ with a cross, receiving the Vandyci4.
four penitents, Mary Magdalen, Peter,
David, and the penitent thief. This pic
ture does no great honour to Vandyck ;
the head of the Magdalen is badly

DORP.
— V

378 A JOURNEY TO
dhssei- drawn, and David is but a poor charac
ter : he looks as much like a thief, as
the thief here represented : the naked
arm of Christ is badly drawn ; the out
line quick and short, not flowing : the
only excellence which this picture pos
sesses is the general effect, proceeding
from the harmony of colouring.

Gasp, de
Crayer.

Here is an immense picture of Gaspar
de Crayer, mentioned not on account of
its excellence in my own opinion, but
from its being in such high estimation
in this country ; and it is certainly one
of his largest works. Though it cannot
be said to be defective in drawing or
colouring, yet it is far from being a
striking picture. There is no union
between his figures and the ground ; the
outline is every where seen, which takes
away the softness and richness of effect :
the men are insipid characters, and the
women want beauty. The composition
is something on the plan of the great
picture of Rubens in the St. Augustins
at Antwerp : that is, the subject is of

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 379
the same kind, but there is a great dif- DusSEL'
O DORP.
ference indeed in their degree of merit.
The dead and cold effect of this picture,
as well as many others of modern mas
ters in this gallery, sets off those of
Rubens to great advantage. It would be
a profitable study for a young painter to
look from those pictures to Rubens, and
compare them again and again, till he
has investigated and fixed in his mind
the cause and principles of such brilliant
effects in one instance, and of failure
(when there is a failure) in the other.

<>

Snyders,De Vos.

NINX.

Dead game, boar and stag-hunting
by Snyders, DeVos, Fytt, and Weeninx: ^
the Weeninx is the most remarkably
excellent.

" Take up thy bed and walk," by vandyck.
Vandyck, in the manner of Rubens.
This picture appears to be painted about
the time when he did that of the four
penitents ; it has the same defects and
the same beauties. — A print by Pontius.

380 A JOURNEY TO

Dussel-
DORP.

Valentine.

Soldiers playing at Moro ; a duplicate
of one in the gallery of the Duke of
Rutland.

Vandyck. a Pieta, by Vandyck, in the manner
of Rubens. Mr. Kraye is of opinion
that it is painted by Rubens : this dif
ference of opinion among connoisseurs
shows sufficiently how much the first
manner of Vandyck was like that of
Rubens. He is almost the only instance
of a successful imitation : however, he
afterwards had a manner of his own.
St. John is blubbering in a very un
gracious manner. The attitude of the
Christ would be admirable, if the head
had not so squalid an appearance. The
whole figure of Christ is equally light ;
which, with the help of the white linen
on the Virgin's knee, makes a large
mass of light : her head and the head of
Mary Magdalen make the lesser lights.
St. John's drapery, which is a light red,
makes the light lose itself by degrees in
the ground.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 381
Dussel-
I10RI'.
SECOND ROOM. *— - v  >
In the next room are these admirable Vandyck.
pictures by Vandyck ; St. Sebastian,
Susanna, and a Pieta. The first two
were done when he was very young,
highly coloured, in the same manner as
the Jupiter and Antiope at Mr. Dasch's
at Antwerp, a picture on the same sub
ject in the possession of Lord Coventry,
his own portrait at the Duke of Grafton's,
and the portrait of Rubens in my pos
session : he never afterwards had so
brilliant a manner of colouring ; it kills
every thing near it. Behind are figures
on horseback, touched with great spirit.
This is Vandyck's first manner, when
he imitated Rubens and Titian, which
supposes the sun in the room : in his
pictures afterwards, he represented the
effects of common day light : both were
equally true to nature ; but his first man
ner carries a superiority with it, and
seizes our attention, whilst the pictures
painted in his latter manner run a risk of
being overlooked. 6

382 A JOURNEY TO
dussel- The Pieta is also finely coloured,
DORP. J
c— « — ' (though not of that splendid kind,) cor
rectly drawn, and finished with the
utmost care and precision.
Vandyck. There are likewise three other pictures
of Vandyck in this room ; one of them
is the Virgin and Child, and St. John ;
the Virgin looking down on the St. John,
who is presenting his label to Christ.
The two others are small pictures ; the
assumption of St. Rosalia, and the Vir
gin presenting St. Rosalia to the Trinity;
both very indifferent performances.
Vandyck. The whole-length portraits of ladies.
Of that in black the colours are flown ;
her face is whiter than her linen.
amorom. A girl sleeping on the ground, by
Amoroso ; simple, and natural.
Gerard But the picture which is most valued
Fl™. -E
here, and which gives name to the room,
is the Gerard Dow ; a Mountebank
haranguing from his stage to figures of

Dow

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 383
different ages, but I cannot add — of d^el-
0 DORP.
different characters : for there is in « — /-— '
truth no character in the picture. It is
very highly finished, but has nothing
interesting in it. Gerard Dow himself
is looking from a window with his
palette and pencils in his hand. The
heads have no character, nor are any
circumstances of humour introduced.
The only incident is a very dirty one,
which every one must wish had been
omitted ; that of a woman clouting a
child. The rest of the figures are
standing round, without invention or
novelty of any kind. This is supposed
to be the largest composition that he
ever made, his other works being little
mOre than single figures ; and it plainly
appears that this was too much for
him, — more than he knew how to
manage. Even the accessories in the
back-ground are ill managed and dis
proportion ed ; a stump of a tree is too
small, and the weeds are too large ;
and both are introduced with as much
formality as if they were principal ob-

384 A JOURNEY TO
dussel- jects. Upon the whole the single figure
w -v— . of the woman holding a hare, in Mr.
Hope's collection, is worth more than
this large picture, in which perhaps
there is ten times the quantity of work.
THIRD ROOM.
barocci. Noli me tangere, of Barocci. The
figures have not much grace ; the
Magdalen looks as if she was scratch
ing her head ; it is, however, finely
coloured. There is a print of this
picture.
Raffaelle. A holy family, of Raffaelle : Christ
and St. John attending to each other,
the Virgin sitting on the ground look
ing at Elizabeth ; St. Joseph behind
with both hands on his staff; which
all together make a very regular pyra
mid. The Virgin is beautiful, as are
likewise the children : indeed the whole
is to be admired ; but the colouring has
a disagreeable yellow cast : it is in his
first manner.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 385
An immense picture of the Ascension dhmel-
1 DORP.
of the Virgin, by Carlo Cignani ; heavy, ^ — * — '
and in no point excellent : a proper com- cignani.
panion for the large picture of Gaspard
de Crayer.
Susanna and the two Elders, by cD™oEN'-
Domenichino. She is sitting at a foun
tain, the two elders are behind a balus
trade ; her head is fine, as are those of
the old men ; but it is upon the whole
but a poor barren composition. There
is as much expression in the Susanna
as perhaps can be given, preserving at
the same time beauty ; but the colour is
inclinable to chalk, at least it appears
so after looking at the warm splen
did colours of Rubens : his full and
rich composition makes this look cold
and scanty. She is awkwardly placed
by herself in the corner of the picture,
which appears too large for the subject,
the canvas not being sufficiently filled.

Here are many Luca Giordanos, which £»
are composed in a picturesque manner :
VOL. II. C C

1CA
Giordano.

3S6 A JOURNEY TO
and some very ordinary pictures of Paolo
Veronese.

LdcaGi- At the further end are two pictu-
ORDANO. . . „T -~,. ,
resque compositions of Luca uioraano,
the Feeding of the Multitude, and the
Elevation of the Cross ; where he has
disposed of a vast mob of people with
great skill, in Tintoret's manner ; and
if they had his, or rather Paul Vero
nese's colouring, these would be con
sidered as very extraordinary pictures ;
but there is here a want of briskness and
brilliancy of colour ; a kind of clay
colour seems to predominate in his pic
tures. When one looks at Luca Gior
dano, and sees a work well composed,
well drawn, and with good keeping,
one wonders how he has missed being
a great name.
tintoret. A Crucifixion of Tintoret, with a
great number of figures, but ill com
posed, and full of small spots of light :
parts of this picture, however, are not
ill painted.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 387
A fine portrait of Vesalius the Ana- DussEl-
DORP.
tomist when young, by Tintoret. He ' — « — '
has a skirrous bone in his left hand, the
other holds a compass : he looks at the
spectator with a most penetrating eye.
It is apparently the same countenance
as the engraved portrait prefixed to his
works, but much younger.
Christ putting in the Sepulchre, by a.caracci.
Annibal Caracci. This appears to have
been one of his best works : it is finely
drawn and composed ; and the Christ
is in graceful attitudes.
Under this picture is an Ecce Homo, domenico
a head only ; said to be of Correg
gio ; but apparently of Domenico Feti.
It should seem by this mistake that
there is a resemblance in the manner of
Domenico Feti to that of Correggio;
what there is, which is very little, lies
in the colouring ; there is something of
a transparent and pearly tint of colour
in this head, but the character is much
inferior to Correggio : it is in heads or
c c 2

$88 A JOURNEY TO
dussel- small parts of pictures, only, that per-
' — » — ' haps some resemblance may be disco
vered ; in the larger works of Domenico
Feti nobody can be deceived.
carlo A Carlo Dolci ; Madonna and Bam-
Dolci. bino with a lily. This is one of his best
works : the expression of the Virgin is
very beautiful ; the Christ, which is a
little figure at length, though not excel
lent, is still better than his children
generally are.
luca Two portraits dressed in rags, like
beggars, by Luca Giordano, in imitation
of Spagnolet's manner ; well painted.
They are said to be his own and his
father's pictures. I have seen a portrait
by Caravaggio, painted by himself, in
the same style : it is difficult to find out
the wit or humour of this conceit of
being drawn in the characters of beggars.

CINI.

c. procac- A holy family by Camillo Procaccini,
his best ; finely coloured : the Christ's
head admirable.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 389
St. Jerome, said to be by Paul Vero- dussm.-
J DORP.
nese, but certainly by Giacomo Bassan.
fourth room.
The most distinguished pictures in vander-
0 L WERE.
this room are the Vanderwerfs, which
are twenty-four in number. Three of
them are as large as life ; a Magdalen
whole-length, and two portraits. The
Magdalen was painted as a companion
to the St. John of Raffaelle, but it was
not thought even by his friends and ad
mirers, that he had succeeded : however,
he certainly has spared no pains ; it is as
smooth and as highly finished as his
small pictures ; but his defects are here
magnified, and consequently more appa
rent. His pictures, whether great or
small, certainly afford but little pleasure.
Of their want of effect it is worth a
painter's while to inquire into the cause.
One of the principal causes appears to
me, his having entertained an opinion
that the light of a picture ought to be
thrown solely on the figures, and little
or none on the ground or sky. This
cc 3

390 A JOURNEY TO
gives great coldness to the effect, and is
so contrary to nature and the practice
of those painters with whose works he
was surrounded, that we cannot help
wondering how he fell into this mistake.
His naked figures appear to be of a
much harder substance than flesh,
though his outline is far from cutting, or
the light not united with the shade,
which are the most common causes of
hardness ; but it appears to me, that in
the present instance the hardness of man
ner proceeds from the softness and union
being too general ; the light being every
where equally lost in the ground or its
shadow : for this is not expressing the
true effect of flesh, the light of which is
sometimes losing itself in the ground, and
sometimes distinctly seen, according to
the rising or sinking of the muscles : an
attention to these variations is what gives
the effect of suppleness, which is one
of the characteristicks of a good manner
of colouring.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 391
There is in nature a certain proportion dusskl-
* l nonp.
of bluntness and sharpness ; in the me
dium between these two extremes, the
true and perfect art of imitating consists.
If the sharp predominate, it gives a dry
manner; if the blunt predominate, it
makes a manner equally removed from
nature ; it gives what painters call
woolliness and heaviness, or that kind
of hardness which is found in those
pictures of Vanderwerf.
In describing Vanderwerf 's manner,
were I to say that all the parts every
where melt into each other, it might
naturally be supposed that the effect
would be a high degree of softness ; but
it is notoriously the contrary, and I think
for the reason that has been given : his
flesh has the appearance of ivory, or
plaster, or some other hard substance.
What contributes likewise to give this
hardness, is a want of transparency in
this colouring, from its admitting little
or no reflexions of light. He has also
the defect which is often found in Rem-
c c 4

BRANDT.

392 A JOURNEY TO
dussel- brandt ; that of making his light only a
' — » — ' single spot. However, to do him justice,
his figures and his heads are generally
well drawn, and his drapery is excellent ;
perhaps thereareinhis pictures as perfect
examples of drapery as are to be found
in any other painter's works whatever.
rem. There are likewise in this room eight
Rembrandts ; the chief merit of which
consists in his peculiarity of manner, —
of admitting but little light, and giving
to that little a wonderful brilliancy. The
colouring of Christ in the Elevation of
the Cross, cannot be exceeded; it is
exactly the tint of Vandyck's Susanna
in the other room ; but whether the
ground of this picture has been re
painted, or the white horse, which was
certainly intended to make the mass of
light broader, has lost its brightness, at
present the Christ makes a disagreeable
string of light.
In reality here are too many Rem
brandts brought together: his peculiarity

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 393
does not come amiss, when mixed with
the performances of other artists of more
regular manners ; the variety then may
contribute to relieve the mind, fatigued
with regularity.
The same may be said of the Vander-
werfs : they also are too numerous.
These pictures, however, tire the spec
tator for reasons totally opposite to each
other ; the Rembrandts have too much
salt, and the Vanderwerfs too much
water, on neither of which we can live.
These Rembrandts are now engraving
by  . The storm at Mr. Hope*is
seems to belong to this "set.
A portrait of a Gentlemau by Titian, Titian.
a Kitcat ; one hand a-kembo, the hand
itself not seen, only a bit of the ruffle;
the other, the left, rests on what appears
to be his sword ; he is looking off. This
portrait has a very pleasing countenance,
but is not painted with much facility,
nor is it at all mannered : the shadows
are of no colour ; the drapery being
black, and the ground being very near

394 A JOURNEY TO
as dark as it, prevents the arm a-kembo
from having a bad effect. It is no small
part of our art to know what to bring
forward in the light, and what to throw
into shade.

Flink.

The portraits of Flink and his wife,
said to be of Rembrandt, but I think,
from the yellow bad taste of colouring,
that they are rather by Flink himself.

Jordaens. The rest of the pictures in this room
are but ordinary, if we except a picture
by Jordaens, of the Satyr blowing hot
and cold, which is equally well painted
with the feast above-mentioned. He
ought never to have attempted higher
subjects than satyrs, or animals, or men
little above beasts ; for he had no idea
of grace or dignity of character; he
makes therefore a wretched figure in
grand subjects. He certainly, however,
understood very well the mechanical part
of the art ; his works are generally well
coloured, and executed with great free
dom of hand.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 395
Over the door, the tribute-money, by
Pietro Genoese : the characters as usual,
wretched ; particularly St. Peter. It is &S^i.
wonderful by what fatality this painter
finds his way into great collections : he
has no merit in drawing or colouring,
that is by any means sufficient to com
pensate for the meanness and vulgarity
of his ideas.
A Susanna and the two Elders, the vandyck.
same as the Duke of Devonshire's : this
likewise appears original.
A virgin and child, and St. Joseph, p,Etro da
by Pietro da Cartona, painted in guazzo ;
the child is of a red brick colour, and
the whole wants harmony.
The Assumption of the Virgin, said gu.do.
to be by Guido, but it is undoubtedly a
copy. It has that regularity of compo
sition, which is frequent with Guido :
two large angels and two little angels on
each side, and two cherubims, regularly
placed in the middle, under the Virgin's

396 A JOURNEY TO
dussel- feet. This formality is certainly a defect
'-•-v-~' in Guido, however it might become
other painters who have adopted a style
of more dignity.
Polydore. The upper part of three sides of this
room are surrounded with a continued
picture in chiaro-oscuro, as large as life,
said to be by Polydore ; but it is in the
wretched taste of Goltzius.
FIFTH ROOM.
Rubens. The fifth room is furnished almost
entirely with the works of Rubens. On
the right hand, Silenus with satyrs ; one
of Rubens's highest coloured pictures,
but not superior to that on the same
subject at Blenheim. The composition
of this varies in many points ; the naked
Bacchante is here omitted, and there is
an addition of a female satyr lying with
her children drunk on the ground.
rubens. The companion is Diogenes with a
lantern, looking for an honest man,
among a multitude of insipid half-length
10

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 397
figures : this is not in Rubens's best DussSL-
r. DORP.
manner of painting. ' — r— >
The Nativity, with many angels ; ad- R^™*-
mirably composed: the nearest shepherd
is particularly well drawn and coloured.
One of the angels, who has her arms
crossed on her breast, with curled hair,
like the Antinous, seems to be copied
from Parmigiano : it is much out of
Rubens's common manner.
Boys by Rubens, playing with or *u»™s>
carrying a festoon of fruit, painted by Sn™ebs
Snyders ; some of the boys the same as
those in the banqueting-house : it is one
of Rubens's best pictures both for colour
ing and drawing ; it is indeed soft and
rich as flesh itself.
Though the flowers are painted with
all that beauty of colour which is in
nature, yet Rubens has preserved such
brightness and clearness in his flesh,
though in contact with those flowers,
as perhaps no other painter could

398 A JOURNEY TO
dussel- have done. This picture is now en-
DORP. L
'-' v— >' graving by Mr. Schmidz, who is an
excellent artist, and there is no doubt
of the print's being well done ; but
more than half its merit must be lost
for want of Rubens's colour, though
some of the boys, particularly that
lying on the ground, are extremely
well drawn.
We now come to the last four pictures
of Rubens which are in this gallery,
and which makes a considerable part
of it. Two of these represent the Last
Judgement, and the other two the expul
sion of the rebel angels.
rubens. The largest of these four is the Last
Judgement, which almost fills the end
of the gallery. There is nothing very
interesting in this picture: perhaps there
is too great a quantity of flesh to have
an agreeable effect. Three naked wo
men and a naked man, join together
to make the great mass of light of the
picture. One of the women, who is

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 399
looking out of the picture, has for that dUSSel-
, DORP.
reason the appearance of a portrait, and '--»-¦-»
is said to be one of Rubens's wives ;
and a figure rising out of a grave, in the
foreground, is said to be his own por
trait; but certainly neither of these sup
positions is well founded.
The next large picture is, Michael rubens.
combating the Fallen Angels. — Michael
is but an ungraceful figure; his red
mantle has but a heavy appearance ;
it seems as if it were only laid in flat,
to be afterwards finished. The pic
ture has certainly suffered by clean
ing : there wants upon the whole a
solidity of effect.
The next is called the small Last Rubens,
Judgement. As in the large picture the
blessed are the most conspicuous, here
the damned make in a manner the sub
ject of the composition : the blessed
are faintly represented at a distance in
the upper part of the picture, near
Christ and the Virgin Mary. This

400 A JOURNEY TO

DuSSEL- DOKP.

picture is far superior to the large one
on the same subject in every respect.

Rubens. But there is another picture of the
Fallen Angels, of the same size as this,
which even exceeds it. It is impossible
to form an adequate idea of the powers
of Rubens, without having seen this
picture : he seems here to have given a
loose to the most capricious imagination
in the attitudes and invention of his
fallen angels, who are tumbling one
over the other, " with hideous ruin
and combustion, down to bottomless per
dition." If we consider the fruitfulness of
invention which is discovered in this
work, or the skill which is shown in
composing such an infinite number of
figures, or the art of the distribution of
the light and shadow, the freedom of
hand, the facility with which it seems
to be performed, and what is still
more extraordinary, the correctness and
admirable taste of drawing of figures

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 401
fore-shortened, in attitudes the most
difficult to execute, we must pronounce
this picture to be one of the greatest
efforts of genius that ever the art has
produced. rubens's room.
Here are three large pictures ; La-
ban reconciled to his brother, the As
cension of the Virgin and the Cloven
Tongues, (both fine compositions,) and
St. Lawrence, the same as the print ;
the colouring of the latter appears raw.
The Battle of the Amazons, (not
much larger than the print,) painted in
varnish. The woman who lies dead at
the bottom, with her head downwards,
is beautifully coloured, in the manner
of the women in the picture of fallen
angels ; and though not of a correct
form, has a grand free open outline.
This appears to be painted at the same
time of his life, that he painted the fall
of the angels, which is in his best man
ner : it is a pity that the date is not
VOL. II. d J>

402 A JOURNEY TO
dussel- known. Its companion is Sampson and
DORP. *¦ L
Dal ila.

A small picture of the fall of St.
Paul, much in the same style as his own
picture. The horse of St. Paul is in a
remarkable fine attitude, and there is
great spirit and bustle through the whole
picture. Tameness or insipidity is not
the character of Rubens : in whatever
he employs his figures, they do their
business with great energy.

Rubens and
Brueghel.

A Madonna and Bambino, by Ru
bens, - with flowers by Brueghel, and
eleven boy angels surrounding the
garland, who are beautifully coloured,
equally brilliant with the flowers.
A landscape with a double rainbow
quite across the picture, very slight:
the varnish seems to be off this picture
likewise. A finished small picture of the St.
Christopher, the same as on the door

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 403
of the Descent from the Cross at Ant- du»Sel-
werp. Rubens and his wife, when he was a
young man, for his portrait here appears
not above two or three and twenty :
his wife is very handsome, and has an
agreeable countenance. She is by much
the best part of the picture, which is
rather in a hard manner. — The linen
is grey : he was at this period afraid
of white.
Over the door is a portrait of a lady,
whole length, with her hand on a dog's
head ; a gentleman behind ; a boy (her
son) by her side, with a hawk, and a
dwarf behind the dog. This is called
Lord and Lady Arundel, but certainly
does not contain their portraits. The
arms on the curtain have a lion and
unicorn for supporters, and the Garter
as a label under.
On the right side is Castor and Pollux,
with two horses carrying away two
d d 2

dorp

404 A JOURNEY TO
dussel- women : it is a fine piece of colouring,
but the composition too artful.
Its companion is, Fame crowning
Mars ; the Fame is too red, as well as
the rest of the picture.
Seneca dying, copied from the statue;
it is much to be suspected that this pic
ture was not painted by Rubens. The
companion to this is, the four repentant
sinners coming to Christ.
The Battle of Senacherib is the com
panion to the fall of St. Paul. In this
picture there is a great repose of shadow
in large masses ; the figures and horses
are full of animation.
About ten portraits by Rubens : the
best are, De Ney, a priest, with a skull in
his hand, and Dr. Van Tulden in black,
holding in his hand a book shut.
Rubens's wife, a head ; the same as
that at Marlborough house.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 405
Philip the Fourth of Spain, and his DDDo**?u-
Queen. ' — » — -»
One of the window-shutters, (ifvAMBY«.
they may be so called,) which open in
wardly, on purpose to hang small pic
tures on them, and turn back like doors,
so as to place the pictures on them, in
any light, is a portrait, (three quarters,)
by Vandyck ; dressed in black, looking
off with part of his right hand appear
ing, which holds his cloak. It is as
finely drawn as that which we saw at
the Prince of Orange's gallery, in as
perfect preservation, and of a brighter
tint; more like the colouring of Rubens :
it is finished, like enamel ; the nose and
eyes remarkably finely drawn, and
delicately marked. Mr. Kraye told me
that there was a print of this portrait by
Sandrart, and that he was a worker in
silver. An Ecce Homo on another window Johannes di Hemis-
by Johannes de Hemissen, dated 1544 : »"•
not mentioned for its excellence, but be-
DD 3

406 A JOURNEY TO

Cologne.

Ruben*

cause we see many pictures of his, and
particularly his children, which are at
tributed in every collection to Lionardo
da Vinci. COLOGNE.
St. Peter crucified with his head
downwards, by Rubens; painted a
little time before his death. The body
and head of the Saint are the only good
parts in the picture, which is finely
coloured, (broad light and shade,) and
well drawn ; but the figure bends too
suddenly from the thighs, which are ill
drawn, or rather in a bad taste of draw
ing ; as is likewise his arm, which has
a short interrupted outline. The action
of the malefactors has not that energy
which he usually gave to his figures.
Rubens, in his letter to Geldorp, ex
presses his own approbation of this pic
ture, which he says was the best he
ever painted : he likewise expresses his
content and happiness.in the subject, as
being picturesque : this is likewise natu
ral to such a mind as that of Rubens,

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 407
who was perhaps too much looking Cologne.
about him for the picturesque, or some
thing uncommon. A man with his
head downwards is certainly a more
extraordinary object than in its natural
place. Many parts of this picture are
so feebly drawn, and with so tame a pen
cil, that I cannot help suspecting that
Rubens died before he had completed it,
and that it was finished by some of his
scholars. This picture is of great fame, I sup
pose from the letter of Rubens, where
he says, it was or would be his best
work. We went from Dusseldorp to
Cologne on purpose to see it ; but it by
no means recompensed us for our jour
ney. From Cologne we made an excur
sion to Bernsburgh, a hunting-seat of
theElector Palatine, which we found very
different from what we had been taught
to expect. The three rooms painted by
Weeninx, however excellent in their ween,n*.
kind, are not better, nor even so good as
what we had seen before of his hand, in
d d 4

408 A JOURNEY TO

Berns-buroh.

the gallery of Dusseldorp. His figures
as large as life, which he is fond of
introducing, are very indifferent, if not
bad. His dead game certainly cannot
be too much admired ; but a sample is
enough : here is too much of it. His
portraits are such as no one would hang
up in his house, if they were not ac
companied with his birds and animals.
The Frescos on the walls and ceiling
are by Belluci Pellegrino, and other late
painters, not worth a minute's attention.
We saw a picture of the Slaughter of
the Innocents, by old Brueghel, the same
as one I had seen before in some part of
Holland ; and I have another myself.
This painter was totally ignorant of all
the mechanical art of making a picture ;
but there is here a great quantity of
thinking, a representation of variety of
distress, enough for twenty modern
pictures. In this respect he is like
Donne, as distinguished from the modern
versifiers, who carrying no weight of
thought, easily fall into that false gallop

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 409
of verses which Shakspeare ridicules in CoIOON••
" As you like it."
There is the same difference between
the old portraits of Albert Durer or
Holbein, and those of the modern
painters : the moderns have certainly
the advantage in facility, but there is
a truth in the old painters, though
expressed in a hard manner, that gives
them a superiority.
At Cologne, in the possession of one liBuuk.
of the family of Jabac, is the famous
picture, by Le Brun, containing the
portrait of Jabac, his wife, and four
children.* It is much superior to what
I could conceive Le Brun capable of
doing in the Portrait style. She is sitting
on his left hand, with four children about
her, and a greyhound, equally correct
and well painted with the rest. Jabac
himself is much in shadow, except the
* This picture is now (1797) in the collection of
Mr. Hope, late of Amsterdam. M.

A JOURNEY TO
face. Le Brun is represented by his
picture on a canvass which is placed on
an easel ; before him lie prints, draw
ings, port-crayons, and a large gold
bust of Alexander. The portraits are
equal to the best of Vandyck : but there
is a heaviness in the effect of the pic
ture, which Vandyck never had, and
this is its only defect.

At AIX LA CHAPELLE,
Rubens. in the church of the Capuchins is the
Adorations of the Shepherds, by Rubens;
it appears to be much damaged, but it
never was a very striking picture. —
There is a print of it by ¦  . A Shep
herdess, not a very poetical one, is
making an offering of a hen's egg to the
Virgin, having already given three eggs,
which lie by the infant Christ, who is
sucking the Virgin : neither of them
take any notice of the shepherdess ; if
the Virgin may be said to be looking at
any thing, it is at the egg in the woman's
hand. A shepherd with his hand to his
hat, as if going to pull it off, appears to

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND.
be well painted; and the ox is admirably
well done.

St. Francis receiving the stimata,
seems likewise to be by Rubens, but is
not much to be admired.
LIEGE.
In the great church is the Ascension lairm...
of the Virgin, by Lairesse. Parts of this
picture are well painted ; but it has no
effect upon the whole, from the want of
large masses. His manner is not open,
and appears too restrained for large
pictures. The same defect is observable
in pictures of Poussin, where the figures
are as large as life, and in those of Van
derwerf. We are creatures of habit,
and a painter cannot change his habits
suddenly ; he cannot, like the fallen
angels of Milton, increase or diminish at
pleasure.

«2 A JOURNEY TO

J^l LOUVAIN.
Rubens. ^IJX DaMES BLANCHES.  The Ador-
ation of the Magi, by Rubens ; a slight
performance. The Virgin holds the
infant but awkwardly, appearing to
pinch the thigh. This picture is said to
have been painted in eight days, and he
was paid for it 800 florins ; about 801.
English. — A print by Lauvers. The
Virgin and Christ, and the principal of
the Magi, are much the same as in my
sketch, except that he kneels instead of
standing. In the church of St. Pierre are some
pictures of the old masters ; one said to
be of Quintin Matsys ; another, about
the same age, representing some Saint,
who appears to refuse a mitre, which is
placed before him ; a composition of
near an hundred figures, many in good
attitudes, natural and well invented. It
is much more entertaining to look at the
works of these old masters, than slight

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 413
common-place pictures of many modern J^™^,
painters. CHARACTER OF RUBENS. Charac ter or
The works of men of genius alone, Ri">"-
where great faults are united with great
beauties, afford proper matter for criti
cism. — Genius is always eccentrick,
bold, and daring; which, at the same
time that it commands attention, is sure
to provoke criticism. It is the regular,
cold, and timid composer, who escapes
censure, and deserves no praise.
The elevated situation on which Ru
bens stands in the esteem of the world
is alone a sufficient reason for some
examination of his pretensions.
His fame is extended over a great
part of the Continent, without a rival :
and it may be justly said that he has
enriched his country, not in a figurative
sense only, by the great examples of art

414 A JOURNEY TO
which he left, but by what some would
think a more solid advantage, the wealth
arising from the concourse of strangers
whom his works continually invite to
Antwerp, which would otherwise have
little to reward the visit of a con
noisseur. To the city of Dusseldorp he has
been an equal benefactor. The gallery
of that city is considered as containing
one of the greatest collections of pic
tures in the world ; but if the works
of Rubens# were taken from it, I will
venture to assert, that this great reposi
tory would be reduced to at least half
its value.
To extend his glory still further, he
gives to Paris one of its most striking
features, .the Luxembourg Gallery * :
* This was written before France had been dis
graced, and plundered, and desolate, by the unpa
ralleled atrocities of those sanguinary and ferocious
savages,-who for seven years past [1 798] have deluged

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 415
and if to these we add the many towns, Charac- TER or
churches, and private cabinets, where a R"«n«.
single picture of Rubens confers emi
nence, we cannot hesitate to place him
in the first rank of illustrious painters.
that country with blood ; while they have waged
war against every principle that binds man to man :
against all the arts and all the elegancies of life ;
against beauty, virtue, law, social order, true
liberty, religion, and even humanity itself. The
collection of the Luxembourg gallery, represent
ing Henry the Fourth, Mary of Medicis, and their
children, with all the splendour of royalty, has without
doubt long since fallen a sacrifice to their barbarous
rage, and shared the same fate with his fine statue
of that monarch, which formerly stood on the
Pont Neuf, and which has been battered to pieces.
— The other great collection of pictures, however,
of which Paris formerly boasted, that of the
Palais Royal, has not suffered among the nume
rous works of art which have been destroyed;
having been fortunately saved from their merciless
fangs by the necessities and precaution of the
owner, the detestable author and fomenter of their
iniquities ; who, happily for the world, though
most cruelly, basely, and unjustly, so far as regards
the perpetrators of the act, was some time since
worried and mangled by those hell-hounds which
he let loose against mankind. Previously to his

416 A JOURNEY TO
Though I still entertain the same
general opinion both in regard to his
excellencies and his defects, yet having
now seen his greatest compositions,
where he has more means of displaying
those parts of his art in which he
particularly excelled, my estimation of
his genius is of course raised. It is
only in large compositions that his
powers seem to have room to expand
themselves. They really increase in
proportion to the size of the canvass on
which they are to be displayed. His
superiority is not seen in easel pictures,
nor even in detached parts of his
greater works ; which are seldom emi
nently beautiful. It does not lie in an
attitude, or in any peculiar expression,
but in the general effect, in the genius
being murdered by his fellow-regicides, the Duke
of Orleans contrived to dispose of the whole of hjs
great collection, which was sent to England. The
Flemish part of it was sold in London in the year
1793, and the pictures of the Italian school are
safely preserved in the same metropolis. M.

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. «7
which pervades and illuminates the ch*»ac-
whole. rusenb.

I remember to have observed in a
picture of Diatreci, which I saw in a
private cabinet at Brussels, the contrary
effect. In that performance there ap
peared to be a total absence of this
pervading genius; though every indivi
dual figure was correctly drawn, and to
the aetion of each as careful an atten
tion was paid, as if it were a set Acade
my figure. Here seemed to be nothing
left to chance; all the nymphs (the
subject was the Bath of Diana) were
what the ladies call in attitudes: yet,
without being able to censure it for
incorrectness, or any other defect, I
thought it one of the coldest and most
insipid pictures I ever beheld.
The works of Rubens have that pecu
liar property always attendant on genius,
to attract attention, and enforce admi
ration in spite of all their faults. It
is owing to this fascinating power that
vol. n. e e

418 A JOURNEY TO
charac- the performances of those painters with
TER OF , .
rubens. which he is surrounded, though they
have perhaps fewer defects, yet ap
pear spiritless, tame, and insipid ; such
as the altar-pieces of Crayer, Schut,
Segers, Huysum, Tyssens, Van Balen,
and the rest. They are. done by men
whose hands, and indeed all their
faculties, appear to have been cramped
and confined: and it is evident that
every thing they did was the effect of
great labour and pains. The produc
tions of Rubens, on the contrary, seem
to flow with a freedom and prodiga
lity, as if they cost him nothing ; and
to the general animation of the com
position there is always a correspon
dent spirit in the execution of the
work. The striking brilliancy of his
colours, and their lively opposition to
each other, the flowing liberty and
freedom of his outline, the animated
pencil with which every object is
touched, all contribute to awaken and
keep alive the attention of the specta
tor; awaken in him, in some mea-

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 419
sure, correspondent sensations, and charac
make him feel a degree of that enthu- RuB™L
siasm with which the painter was car
ried away. To this we may add the
complete uniformity in all the parts of
the work, so that the whole seems to
be conducted, and grow out of one
mind : every thing is of a piece, and
fits its place. Even his taste of draw
ing and of form appears to correspond
better with his colouring and composi
tion, than if he had adopted any other
manner, though that manner, simply
considered, might be better : it is here
as in personal attractions ; there is fre
quently found a certain agreement and
correspondence in the whole together,
which is often more captivating than
mere regular beauty.
Rubens appears to have had that con
fidence in himself, which it is neces
sary for every artist to assume, when
he has finished his studies, and may
venture in some measure to throw
aside the fetters of authority ; to con-
ee 2

4#0 A JOURNEY TO
sider the rules as subject to his con-
troul, and not himself subject to the
rules ; to risk and to dare extraordinary
attempts without a guide, abandoning
himself to his own sensations, and de
pending upon them. To this confi
dence must be imputed that originality
of manner by which he may be truly
said to have extended the limits of the
art. After Rubens had made up his
manner, he never looked out of him
self for assistance: there is conse
quently very little in his works, that
appears to be taken from other mas
ters. If he has borrowed any thing,
he has had the address to change and
adapt it so well to the rest of his work,
that the theft is not discoverable.
Beside the excellency of Rubens in
these general powers, he possessed the
true art of, imitating. He saw the
objects of nature with a painter's eye ;
he saw at once the predominant feature
by which every object is known and
distinguished: and as soon as seen, it
12

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 421
was executed with a facility that is
astonishing : and, let me add, this faci
lity is to a painter, when he closely
examines a picture, a source of great
pleasure. How far this excellence may
be perceived or felt by those who are
not painters, I know not : to them cer
tainly it is not enough that objects be
truly represented ; they must likewise
be represented with grace; which means
here, that the work is done with facility
and without effort. Rubens was, per
haps, the greatest master in the mecha
nical part of the art, the best workman
with his tools, that ever exercised a
pencil. This part of the art, though it does
not hold a rank with the powers of
invention, of giving character and ex
pression, has yet in it what may be
called genius. It is certainly something
that cannot be taught by words, though
it may be learned by a frequent exami
nation of those pictures which possess
this excellence. It is felt by very few
e e 3

422 A JOURNEY TO
charac- Painters ; and it is as rare at this time
ter or /> i
rubens. among the living Painters as any of the
higher excellencies of the art.
This power, which Rubens possessed
in the highest degree, enabled him to
represent whatever he undertook better
than any other painter. His animals,
particularly lions and horses, are so ad
mirable, that ' it may be said they were
never properly represented but by him.
His portraits rank with the best works
of the Painters who have made that
branch of the art the sole business of
their lives ; and of those he has left a
great variety of specimens. The same
may be said of his landscapes ; and
though Claude Lorrain finished more
minutely, as becomes a Professor in any
particular branch, yet there is such an
airiness and facility in the landscapes of
Rubens, that a painter would as soon
wish to be the author of them, as those
of Claude, or any other artist whatever.
The pictures of Rubens have this

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 423
effect on the spectator, that he feels charAC-
himself in no wise disposed to pick out RuL™.
and dwell on his defects. The criticisms
which are made on him are indeed often
unreasonable. His style ought no more
to be blamed for not having the sublimity
of Michael Angelo, than Ovid should be
censured because he is not like Virgil.
However, it must be acknowledged
that he wanted many excellencies, which
would have perfectly united with his
style. Among those we may reckon
beauty in his female characters : some
times indeed they make approaches to it;
they are healthy and comely women,
but seldom, if ever, possess any degree
of elegance : the same may be said of
his young men and children : his old
men have that sort of dignity which a
bushy beard will confer ; but he never
possessed a poetical conception of cha
racter. In his representations of the
highest characters in the christian or the
fabulous world, instead of something
above humanity, which might fill the

424 A JOURNEY TO
idea which is conceived of such beings,
the spectator finds little more than mere
mortals, such as he meets with every
day. The incorrectness of Rubens in regard
to his outline oftener proceeds from haste
and carelessness, than from inability :
there are in his great works, to which
he seems to have paid more particular
attention, naked figures as eminent for
their drawing as for their colouring.
He appears to have entertained a great
abhorrence of the meagre dry manner of
his predecessors, the old German and
Flemish Painters'; to avoid which, he
kept his outline large and flowing : this
carried to an extreme, produced that
heaviness which is so frequently found
in his figures. Another defect of this
great painter is his inattention to the
foldings of his drapery, especially that
of his women : it is scarcely ever cast
with any choice or skill.
Carlo Maratti and Rubens are in this

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 425
respect in opposite extremes ; one dis
covers too much art in the disposition
of drapery, and the other too little.
Rubens's drapery, besides, is not pro
perly historical ; the quality of the stuff
of which it is composed, is too accu
rately distinguished; resembling the
manner of Paul Veronese. This drapery
is less offensive in Rubens than it would
be in many other painters, as it partly
contributes to that richness which is the
peculiar character of his style, which
we do not pretend to set forth as of the
most simple and sublime kind. •
The difference of the manner of Ru
bens, from that of any other painter
before him, is in nothing more distin
guishable, than in his colouring, which
is totally different from that of Titian,
Correggio, or any of the great colourists.
The effect of his pictures may be not
improperly compared to clusters of
flowers ; all his colours appear as clear
and as beautiful : at the same time he
has avoided that tawdry effect which one

426 A JOURNEY TO
chakac. would expect such gay colours to pro-
Rubens. duce: in this respect resembling Barocci
more than any other painter. What was
said of an antient painter, may be ap
plied to those two artists, — that their
figures look as if they fed upon roses.
It would be a curious and a profitable
study for a painter to examine the dif
ference and the cause of that difference
of effect in the works of Correggio and
Rubens, both excellent in different ways.
The preference probably would be given
according to the different habits of the
connoisseur: those who had received
their first impressions from the works of
Rubens would censure Correggio as
heavy ; and the admirers of Correggio
would say Rubens wanted solidity of
effect. There is lightness, airiness, and
facility in Rubens, his advocates will
urge, and comparatively a laborious
heaviness in Correggio : whose admirers
will complain of Rubens's manner being
careless and unfinished, whilst the works
of Correggio are wrought to the highest

FLANDERS AND HOLLAND. 427
degree of delicacy : and what may be cham*
advanced in favour of Correggio's Ruben*.
breadth of light will by his censurers
be called affected and pedantick. It
must be observed that we are speaking
solely of the manner, the effect of the
picture ; and we may conclude, accord
ing to the custom in pastoral poetry, by
bestowing on each of these illustrious
painters a garland, without attributing
superiority to either.
To conclude; I will venture to repeat
in favour of Rubens, what I have before
said in regard to the Dutch school, —
that those who cannot see the extraor
dinary merit of this great painter, either
have a narrow conception of the variety
of art, or are led away by the affectation
of approving nothing but what comes
from the Italian school.

THE END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

Printed by A. Strahan,
Printers-Street, London.