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The following diagrams illustrate the method: L'exemplaire filmd fut reproduit grfice d la g6n6rosit6 de i'6tablissement prdteur suivant : . ^ . . . ^ « j La Galerie nationale du Canada La bibliothdque Les cartes ou les planches trop grandes pour &^'< reproduites en un seul cliche sont filmdes d partir de I'angle sup6rieure gauche, de gaurhe A droite et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Le diagramme suivant illustre la mdthode : 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 ■»I-ll«l«l)il. J - LECTURES ON SOME OF THE GREAT MASTERS OF ART .j,a5«=-=a-V,ii-- ! A LECTU RES ON SOME OF THE GREAT . MASTERS OF ART AND ON THE RISE, PROGRESS, AND DECAY OF MODERN ART IN EUROPE BY ROBERT CASSELS ASSOCIATE MEMBER OF THE LITERARY AND HISTORICAL SOCIETY OF (,>IIE11EC " A genuine perception of l)eauty is the highest degree of educition, the ultiinntc polish nf man : the master key of the mind, it makes us better than we were before. Elevated or charmed by the contemplation of superior works of Art, our mind passes from the images themselves to their authors, and from them to tlie race which reared the powers that furnish us with models of imitation, or multiply our pleasures." FU.SKI.I EDINBURGH ANDREW ELLIOT, 17 PRINCES STREET MDCCCLXXV. EDINBURGH Pi;iNTl'-L) 1!V lUKTEOlS AND DENIKH.M ^t'^<^ "it.^ vti ^ -J J ■■■■■ ''Ki 3> >5i '^'^Ay^AP^' C . C H PREFACE These lectures on some of the great Masters of Art were written at intervals of leisure in the winter of 1872-3, and several of them were delivered by me before the Literary and Historical Society of Quebec during that winter session. The Council of the Society offered to publish several of the lectures in the records of their annual proceedings, but I declined the generous proposal as I felt that isolated lectures on Art would not advance the object I had in view— that of giving a clear account, not only of the lives of some of the most remarkable painters who flourished in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, but also of showing the rise, progress, and decline of art in the various countries of Europe during that period. I have devoted six lectures r^W^^mwr '^'^mfgr^ VI PREFACE !lf \ to Italy and the Italians ; giving a sketch of the rise of art in that country, more especially in the fifteenth century, to its culminating point in the sixteenth, and its gradual decay in the seventeenth. The other six lectures give an account of the rise and progress of art in Germany, the Low Countries, France, Spain, England, and Scotland. In addition to copious notes taken during frequent visits to nearly all the great public, and many of the private galleries of Europe, I have not hesitated to use numerous works on the subject of Art, which have served to illustrate my lectures ; among others, I may mention "Vasari's Lives of the Most Eminent Painters, &c,," translated by Mrs Jonathan Foster; " Lanzi's His- tory of Painting in Italy," translated by Thomas Roscoe; " Kiigler's Handbook of Painting — the Italian School," edited by Sir Charles Eastlake ; " Kiigler's Handbook of Painting — the German, Flemish, Dutch, Spanish, and French Schools," edited by Sir Edmund Head, Baronet; " Modern Painters," by John Ruskin, M.A. ; " The Lectures of Henry Fuseli, M.x\., R.A.," edited by John Knowles, F.R.S. ; "The Works of Anthony Raphael Mengs;" "Letters of Horace Walpole, Earl of Orford;" " The Art Journal ;" " General Biography," by John Aiken, M.D., pubUshed in 1799; "A New and General I PREFACE vu Biographical Dictionary," published by William Owen and William Johnstone in 1755 ; " Murray's Hand Books;" " Mrs Jameson's Works," &c., &c. The chief object I have had in view in preparing, and now in publishing these lectures, is to endeavour to excite some interest in works of Art in my adopted country — Canada; and to advance, as far as my humble efforts can aid, the establishment of a National Gallery there. For many years I have cherished the hope that it was practicable, and that the time would arrive when a liberal Dominion House of Commons would be dis- posed to vote a few thousand pounds annually towards the commencement of so desirable an object. Such an establishment would create a taste for art, elevate and educate the minds of the people, and be a proof of the energy and good sense of the legislators of the country. There is scarcely a city or to^v^ of any importance on the continent of Europe which cannot boast of its picture or sculpture gallery; and even considered in the lowest spirit of mercantile enterprise, these collections have been eminently beneficial to the communities where they have been placed, bringing numerous visitors, who spend large sums in those places — thus giving occupa- tion, and the means of living to thousands of their citizens, employed as artists in copying the works of VIU PREFACE \\ the old masters, and in photographing and engraving works of art. No one who has travelled on the continent of Europe can be ignorant of the great attraction which Paris, Berlin, Dresden, Munich, Florence, Milan, Naples, Rome, Genoa, Vienna, and other cities, offer to the public, chiefly by the possession of noble galleries of pictures, sculpture, and other objects of art. And when it is remembered that the National Gallery of England, which for years remained in a state of comparative poverty and obscurity, but is now distinguished for the beauty and value of its collection, is only about fifty years old, surely there is hope that Canada, with its youthful vitality and rapidly increasing wealth, may in the course of time become the possessor of a gallery which would be credit- able to the people, and a mark of the public spirit of its rulers. • There is reason to hope that a National Gallery in Canada would be assisted, as that of England has largely been, by bequests and donations, not only of persons resident in Canada, but by generous and liberal minded individuals who have been connected with the country, or who take an interest in its well-being and healthy * progress. The present time is, I think, propitious for the com- PREFACE IX menccnicnt and prosecution of this object, more particu- larly as His Excellency the Governor-General of Car ada, Earl DulTcrin, is a lover of art, and has expressed his desire to encourage the good work. In describing works of the great masters, I have given, when possible, rather the opinions of some of the well known art critics than my own; and I have en- deavoured to supply a want which I believe is rec[uired : a succinct view of the condition, rise, and progress of Art in various countries of Europe, including England and Scotland, together with sketches of some of the most prominent masters of Art in those countries. There are many admirable works containing very full details relating to Art and Painters, but none that I am aware of giving a general and condensed account of the subject, suited for popular use, and means of easy refer- ence; the student, or amateur, having to wade through a mass of reading to arrive at a correct view of the condition of Art in Europe during the last three or four centuries, or to acquire a general idea of the most famous pictures painted in, and artists who flourished during the same period. My hope is that the following lectures, embracing an extensive field, but in a condensed form, may prove useful to those who have not hitherto given much Hi X PREFACE attention to the st''dy of art, and interesting, more particularly to many persons in Canada, who have not had an opportunity of visiting the great galleries of Europe, or acquiring information relative to the works and lives of the great masters of modem times. 1 % R. C. Holland House Quebec, Canada !? CONTENTS ■♦♦- LECTURE I. Leonardo da Vinci and Micjiael Angelo Buonarroti PAGE LECTURE IL Raphael and Titian 37 LECTURE in. Art in Venice Giorgio Barbarelli, Jacopo Palma (Vecchio), Sebastiano Luciano (del Piombo), Jacopo Robusti (Tintoretto), and Paolo Cagi.iari (Paul Veronese) .... LECTURE IV. Andrea Vannucciii (del Sarto), Giulio Romano, and Correggio .... 69 no LECTURE V. Art in Bologna Francesco Raibolini, Lodovico Carracci, Agostino Carracci, Annibale Carracci, Guido Reni, Albani, Domenico Zampieri (Domenichino), Giovanni Fran- cesco Barbieri (Guercino), and Michaelangelo Amerigiii (Caravaggio) 146 xii CONTENTS LECTURE VI. Art in Italy Giovanni Cima«ue, Giotto, Christoforo Allori, Gio- vanni Battista Salvi (Sassoferrato), Salvator Rosa, Carlo Dolci, Carlo Maratti, and Luca Giordano PACE i86 LECTURE VIL Art in Germany and the Low Countries QuiNTiN Matsys, Albert Durer, Lucas Cranach, and Hans Holbein the Younger 209 LECTURE VIII. Peter Paul Rubens, Anthony Vandyck, and Paul Rembrandt van Rhyn .... 249 LECTURE IX. Art in Spain Giuseppe Ribera (Spagnoletto), Francisco Zurbaran, Don Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velazquez, Alonso Cano, and Bartolomeo Esteban Murillo 280 LECTURE X. Art in France Jean Fouquet, Francois Clouet, Simon Vouet, Nicholas PoussiN, Claude Gell^e, Pierre Mignard, Gaspard Dughet (Poussin), Eustace le Sueur, Charles le Brun, Jean Jouvenet, Alexander Francis Des- PORTES, Anthony Watteau, Claude Joseph Vernet, and Jean Baptiste Greuze 324 CONTENTS LECTURE XL Art in England William Hogarth, Richard Wilson, Sir Joshua Rev- 7 NOLDS, AND ThOMAS GaINSBOROUGH XIII I'AGE 371 LECTURE XIL Art in Scotland George Jameson, The Elder Scougall, The Younger ScouGALL, Allan Ramsay, Sir Henry Raeburn, and Sir David Wilkie . 412 'I I t i 1,11 tmmmi WW^*'" ' rvrnfif^-n i,i iii||y t^y/fr^rw^nw^ffffWI^'/'W" '^'■^^^^'■' LECTURE I. LEONARDO DA VINCI AND MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI *' Strike the loud harp, let the prelude be, Italy ! Italy ! That chord again, again that note of glee — Italy ! Italy ! Italia, Italia ! the name my bosom warmeth ; Italia, Italia ! the very sound it charmeth. — Augustus Ilarc. These words from Scripture, "There were giants in the earth in those days," may well be applied to the men, whose lives and works we are about to consider this evening. In the roll of fame, no two names could be selected of greater prominence, ability, and distinction, than those of Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo — the great apostles in accomplishing and developing the perfection of modern Art ; men of the most versatile genius — painters, sculptors, architects, engineers, poets, musicians — combining all the elements that grace the highest cultivation, the brightest intelligence \ not possess- ing a mere superficial knowledge, but deeply skilled, and thoroughly learned, in these various arts, beyond all who have gone before them, or who have since followed. ^lml> ^^mw i i u 1, I \ 2 LEONARDO DA VINCI Yet those two men, possessing, in common, all these amazing abilities and accomplishments, these wonderful attainments, differed materially in character and appearance. Leonardo da Vinci was handsome in person, of radiant countenance, of graceful manners, affable, tender-hearted, sensitive, cheerful, — but slow, capricious, procrastinating, dilatory. Michael Angelo was, in aspect, plain, of bitter tongue, overbearing, haughty, impetuous, bold, stern, and proud, — but quick, diligent, and laborious. During part of their lives they were rivals — fierce haters, and jealous of each other. But while language lasts their names will go down together to latest posterity, as two of the greatest masters of the arts and sciences who have ever existed, and of whom it may, and will continue to be said, " There were giants in the earth in those days." Leonardo da Vinci was the illegitimate son of Pietro da Vinci, a noble, or notary to the Florentine Signory ; and was bom at the Castle of Vinci, in the lower vale of the Amo, in the year 1452. He is said to have evinced remarkable abilities at an early age, and his father provided for him a liberal education, and though his singular versatility seems to have interposed obstacles, through the inconstancy of mind which it occasioned, his early progress was extraordinary. In arithmetic, especially, he soon puzzled his master, and he was so endowed by nature with a genius for the acquire- ment of whatever he undertook, that he became master ot mathematics, mechanics, hydrostatics, and architecture. He was gifted in the accomplishments of horsemanship, fencing. m * I. LEONARDO DA VINCI and dancing ; and was also a poet of a high order, and a good musician. He used, we are told, to play on a species of lyre invented by himself, and sing to it verses of his own composition, improvising both words and music. To his achievements in art, music, and poetry, he also added a love and knowledge of natural science, and had not his attention been principally directed to painting, he might, it is considered, hnve rivalled Galileo and Kepler in the discover}^ of laws of nature ; indeed, it has been asserted by Hallam, that he really anticipated their discoveries, as well as many of the theories of recent geologists. He was so perfect in all that he learned, that when he performed any one, the beholders were ready to imagine that it must have been his sole study. To such vigour of intellect, he joined an elegance of features and of manners that graced the virtues of his mind. He was affable with all men, and also with princes, among whom he long lived on a footing of familiarity and friendship. On this account, says Vasari, it cost him no effort to behave and live like a man of high birth. His father, struck by some of his sketches, showed them to his friend, Andrea Verocchio, an eminent master in design and painting; Verocchio was amazed when he beheld the commencement made by Leonardo, and advised Pietro to see that he attached himself to that calling, where- upon the latter took his measures accordingly, and sent Leonardo to study in the bottega, or workshop of Andrea. Thither, therefore, the boy resorted with the utmost readi- ness, and not only gave his attention to one branch of art, but to all the others, of which design made a portion. He soon surpassed his master, and it is said, that on one occasion he added to one of his pictures an angel, the !' / ' '>> I ^ •: i 1 4 LEONARDO DA VINCI liveliness and beauty of which so disgusted Vcrocchio with a sense of his own inferiority that he determined thenceforth to confine himself to sculpture. Leonardo was, however, in the habit of beginning things that he never finished; and this probably arose from the wonderful imagination of his mind, which his hand was unable to follow. We read of some strange tilings he some- times conceived. Once, we are told, his father asking him to paint a wooden shield for a countryman, Leonardo collected in his room a number of lizards, hedgehogs, newts, serpents, bats, and every strange animal of a similar kind he could find, and out of this assemblage he formed in his mind, and painted on the shield, a hideous and strange monster, breathing poison and flame, and surrounded by an atmosphere of fire. When his father was admitted into Leonardo's dimly-lighted room to see the shield, he started back in horror, believing the monster to be alive, at which Leonardo remarked that he was now satisfied, as his painting had evidently produced the effect he had intended. This shield no longer exists, but the head of the Medusa, now in the gallery of the Uffizi at Florence, has a similar strange and fascinating horror in it. The Medusa is probably the earliest work by Da Vinci, now at Florence, and a highly characteristic one, inasmuch as, with a careful study of the beautiful, it combines its foil, fantastic ugliness, for which he had a curious predilection. The Gorgon's severed head lies in a cave — the face upturned, and the crown, which is nearest to the spectator, tressed with snakes, dying, and some detaching themselves. The last venomous vitality of the dreadful being seems quivering away through her serpent hair. These uncoiling LEONARDO DA VINCI braids of multitudinous snakes are realized with extraordinary labour and truthfulness, down to their very ghastliness, and the sudden spasmodic upturning of their half-dead members. Were not Leonardo's tenderness to animals well known, and that he frequently purchased birds for the simple pleasure of freeing them from their cages, we might have feared that many a snake was tortured into a model for this strange display of reptile agony. Bcckford says of this picture — *' Nothing struck me more than a Medusa's head by Leonardo da Vinci. It appears just severed from the body, and cast on the damp pavement of a cavern : a deadly paleness covers the countenance, and the mouth exhales a pestilential vapour ; the snakes, which fill almost the whole picture, beginning to untwist their folds ; one or two seemed already crept away, and crawling up the rock, in company with toads and other venomous reptiles." Many of you may remember the lines of Shelley : — " It lielh, gazing on the midnight sky, Upon the cloudy mountain peak supine ; Below, far lands are seen tremblingly ; Its horror and its beauty are divine. Upon its lips and eyelids seems to lie Loveliness like a shadow, from which shine, Fiery and lurid, struggling underneath, The agonies of anguish and of death. Yet, it is less the horror than the grace Which turns the gazer's spirit into stone, Whereon the lineaments of that dead face Are graven, till the character be grown Into itself, and thought no more can trace ; 'Tis the melodious hues of beauty, thrown i I I- ^ r k i \] 1 1 1 1 ( i f* 6 LEONARDO DA VINCI Athwart the darkness and the glare of pain, Which humanise and harmonise the strain. And from its head as from one body grow, As ... . grass out of a watery rock, Hairs, which are vipers ; and they curl and flow, And their long tangles in each other lock. And with unending involutions show Their mailed radiance, as it were, to mock The torture and the death within. Pictures by Leonardo da Vinci are veiy scarce, and few are met with in any of the galleries of Europe. There is one in Prince Lichtcnstein's gallery at Vienna, an excellent picture, Christ bearing the Cross; and in the Brera at Milan, there is a beautiful head of our Lord, in red and black chalk, with a little white added. This is believed to have been the study for the head in his celebrated Cenacolo — a picture I shall by and by describe. In the National Gallery, London, there is a good picture, The Ento?nbment of Christ; and at the Duke of Beaufort's at Badminton, a very fine picture. There is also in the Cathedral of Antwerp a remarkable picture, painted on a slab of white marble, about fifteen inches long by ten or twelve inches broad. The Head of the Saviour. It is beautifully soft and delicate, though expression is somewhat wanting. His own portrait, by himself, and at an advanced period of life, in the Florence Gallery, is considered one of the best painted of his works, though rather dark. In it he appears handsome, dignified, with a penetrating expression, and adorned with a magnificent silver beard. In 1483, his fame having spread all over Italy, Ludovico T" LEONARDO DA VINCI ind few re is one ixccllent ]rcra at red and eved to lebrated In the re, The eaufort's :iarkable t fifteen Head of though i period the best appears on, and .udovico Sforza, the usurping duke of Milan, invited him to his Court, and appointed him Director of the Academy of Painting and Architecture. Vasari seems to imply that Leonardo was only invited to Milan that he might amuse the duke with his music and admirable conversation ; but the letter, which has happily been preserved, in which Leonardo offers his services to the duke, proves that he had (^uite other ideas than of simply amusing his patron. This remarkable letter begins by offering to make known to Ludovico various engineering secrets, which he thinks will be useful in war. He says — " Having seen and sufficiently considered the works of all those who repute themselves to be masters and inventors of instruments for war, and found that the form and operation of these works are in no way different from those in common use, I permit myself, without seeking to detract from the merit of any other, to make known to your excellency the secrets I have discovered, at the same time offering, with fitting opportunity, and at your good pleasure, to perform all those things, which, for the present, I will but briefly note below." After giving details under ten heads, he goes on to say, " Further- more, I can execute works in sculpture, marble, bronze, or terra-cotta. In painting also I can do what may be done, as well as any other, be he who he may. I can likewise undertake the execution of the bronze horse, which is a monument that will be to the perpetual glory and immortal honour of my lord, your father, of happy memory, and of the illustrious house of Sforza. And if any of the above named things shall seem to any man to be impossible and imprac- ticable, I . am perfectly ready to make trial of them in your Excellency's park, or in whatever other place you shall be ' 8 LEONARDO DA VINCI \ % \ pleased to command, commending myself to you with all possible humility." The bronze horse, which Leonardo professes his willing- ness to undertake, was modelled by him in the most perfect manner ; but either on account of its colossal size, or from some other difficulties, it was never cast in bronze ; and the clay model, which was considered the most beautiful thing of the sort ever done, was destroyed by the French when they invaded Milan in 1499. A small model of it in wax was also lost, and all that now remains to us of this perfect work, is a book containing the anatomical studies that Leonardo made for it, a work which in itself is sufficiently remarkable. It has been said that the customary dilatori- ness of Leonardo prevented its completion, but it is much more likely that the requisite quantity of bronze required, computed at 100,000 lbs. weight, could not be spared, being wanted for other purposes. Leonardo served the Duke of Milan in the character he mainly assumed in his letter, that of inventive engineer. He conceived and carried out the stupendous project of con- ducting the waters of the Adda from Mortesana to the walls of Milan, a distance of two hundred miles. In order to accomplish this vast design, it is said that he spent much time in the study of philosophy and mathematics, particularly those parts which might throw light on the work he had undertaken. To these he joined antiquity and history ; and observed, as he went along, how the Ptolemies had con- ducted the waters of the Nile through the several parts of Egypt ; and how Trajan had opened a commerce with Nicomedia, by rendering navigable the lakes ajid rivers lying between that city and the sea. At last he brought w^m/wmr^mf LEONARDO DA VINCI con- walls this great work to pass ; and achieved what some thought ahiiost impossible. The canal goes by the name of the Mortcsana, and i)asses through the Valtcline and the valley of Chiavenna. He remained in Milan seventeen years, and it was for the monks of Santa Maria delle Grazie that he executed his greatest work, the celebrated Cenacolo — the Last Supper. It is in the refectory of the convent of Dominicans, which is annexed to the church. Perhaps no one work of art has had more written about it, and no one deserves higher praise. Wordsworth says — " This picture of the Last Supper has not only been grieviously injured by time, but parts are said to have been painted over again. These niceties may be left to connoisseurs — I speak of it as I felt. The copy exhibited in London some years ago, and the engraving bv Morghen, are both admirable ; but in the original is a power which neither of those works has attained, or even approached." But three heads remain of the original picture, and these merely in faintest outline ; yet by means of copies and engravings it is perhaps the best known picture in the world. Fuseli, lecturing upon a copy, says, " The face of the Saviour is an abyss of thought, and broods over the immense revolution in the economy of mankind, which throngs inwardly on His absorbed eye — as the Spirit Creative in the beginning over the water's darksome wave — undisturbed and quiet. It could not be lost in the copy before us : how could its sublime conception escape those who saw the original? ... I am not afraid of being under the necessity of retracting what I am going to advance, that neither during the splendid period immediately subsequent Y lO LEONARDO DA VINCI M I I ' ^' r\ i! ^41 to Leonardo, nor in those which succeeded to our own time, has a face of the Redeemer been produced, which, I will not say equalled, but approached the sublimity of Leonardo's conception, and in quiet and simple features of humanity, embodied divine, or what is the same, incomprehensible and infinite powers." The varied characters and expressions of the disciples are almost as remarkable as the divine purity of their Master. The words — "Verily, I say unto you, one of you shall betray me," have affected each one with a different feeling, which is admirably expressed on their different countenances. Some are thunderstruck at the prediction ; others are doubtful whether they have heard it aright ; whilst Judas, by his anxiety to hide his feelings, betrays himself as the one meant. This painting, on a wall 28 feet in length, the figures being larger than life, was begun in 1484, being among the first works executed by Leonardo in Milan — and he employed sixteen years upon it, but he used a new process which proved its ruin. The ground is plaster, impregnated with mastic or pitch, melted in by means of a hot iron. This ground he covered with a species of priming, composed of a mixture of white lead and some earthy colours, which took a fine polish, but from which the oil colour flaked off. The materials, with which the wall was built, are of a very bad quality, rendering it suscei)tible of injury from damp. As early as 1500 the refectory seems to have been flooded, owing to its low situation. The vicinity of the kitchen smoked the painting, which exhibited early symptoms of decay. Armenini, who saw it about fifty years after it was painted, said it was then half-spoiled ; and Scanelli, who saw it in 1642, speaking hyperbolically. x^^y^ LEONARDO DA VINCI zi observed that it was then dirficult to discover the subject. In 1652 the monks, wishing to enlarge the door, cut away Christ's feet, and those of some of the apostles, and, by shaking the wall in cutting it away, brought off parts of the surfiice. In 1726, Bellotti, an indifferent and ignorant artist, persuaded the monks that he could restore it, and accordingly concealed himself behind planks, and painted it all over. In 1770, Mazza, a wretched dauber, was employed to go over the whole of it again. The three heads, however, escaped, in consequence of the outcry which the proceeding raised. When Napoleon was at Milan in 1796 he visited the refectory ; and sitting on the ground, he wrote, placing his pocket book upon his knee, an order that the spot should be exempted from being occupied by the military. This order was disobeyed, and the room was employed as a cavalry stable, and afterwards as a hay magazine. In 1807, the Viceroy, Eugene, caused the refectory to be repaired and drained, and everytliing done which might tend to preserve the remains of the painting. It has, however, been gradually scaling off, but of late years, it is said. Professor Barozzi, of Panna, has discovered a mode of preventing this, which it is to be hojicd may prove successful. The late Professor Phillips, R.A., in 1825, examined its condition with careful and minute attention, and could with difficulty find a portion of its original surface. " The little I did find," he says, *' exhibited an exceedingly well prepared ground, smooth in the highest degree, and the painting upon it free, firm, and pure." The figure of Christ forms the centre ; He sits in a tranquil attitude, a little apart from the others. The figures of the apostles are thus placed : the standing figure to the extreme 12 LEONARDO DA VINCI y\\ h \ ( I?' ' ' left of the spectator, and on the right of the Saviour, is St Bartholomew ; then they come in order, thus — St James the less, St Andrew, Judas, St Peter, St John. On the left of our Lord, beginning with the figure next to Him, are — St Thomas (with his forefinger raised), St James the greater, St Philip, St Matthew, St Thaddeus, and St Simon. Kiigler says, "The two groups to the left of Christ are full of impassioned excitement, the figures in the first turning to the Saviour, those in the second speaking to each other ; horror, astonishment, suspicion, doubt, alternate in the various expressions. On the other hand, stillness, low whispers, indirect observation, are the prevailing expressions in the groups on the right. In the middle of the first group sits the betrayer — a cunning, sharp profile : he looks up hastily to Christ, as if speaking the words, ' Rabbi, is it I ? ' while, true to the Scriptural account, his left hand and Christ's right hand approach, as if unconsciously, the dish that stands between them." A story is told by Vasari, which is highly characteristic of the artist : — " It is related that the Prior of the monastery was exces- sively importunate impressing I^eonardo to complete the picture ; he could in no way comprehend wherefore the artist should sometimes remain half-a-day together absorbed in thought before his work, without making any progress that he could see : this seemed to him a strange waste of time, and he would fain have had him work away as he could make the men do who were digging in his garden, never laying the pencil out of his hand. " Not content with seeking to hasten Leonardo, the prior even complained to the duke, and tormented him to such a degree that the latter was at length compelled to send for ww^wiW^wvv^d ^m*n MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 17 of the iron rings used for the knockers of doors, or a horse shoe, as if it were lead. Giovanni Batista Strozzi has spoken to his praise in the following words : — He alone Vanquished all others. Phidias he surpassed, Surpassed Apelles, and the conquering troop Of their proud followers — And the words of a later English poet may be applied quite as aptly : — The light-invested angel Poesy Was drawn from the dim world to welcome thee ! And thou in painting didst transcribe all taught, By loftiest meditations ; marble knew The sculptor's fearless soul, and, as he wrought, The grace of his own power and freedom grew. Michael Angelo Buonarr6ti was bom 6th March 1474, twenty-three years after Leonardo da Vinci, at the castle of Caprese, in Tuscany, of which his father, Lodovico di Lionardo Buonarroti Simoni, was governor. He was descended from the noble and ancient family of the Counts of Canossa-Francesca, the mother being also a noble, as well as excellent lady. The child was born on a Sunday, and the name he received was Michael Angelo, because the father thought he perceived something celestial and divine in him beyond what is usual with mortals, and his nativity having been cast, as was usual in those days, it was found that Mercury and Venus were in conjunction with Jupiter for the second time, demonstrating a benign aspect, B It i8 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI ■,i l\ showing that the child would be a very extraordinary f,^cnius, but particularly in those arts which delight the sens<., such as painting, sculpture, and architecture. He began his career as artist in the school of Domenico Ghirlandaio, but soon influenced by inclination and external circumstances he turned to the study and practice of sculpture. He had been put out to nurse with the wife of a stone mason, thereby imbibing, as he was wont to say, his love for his profession with his nurse's milk. While pursuing his studies under Ghirlandaio, a school for the advancement of sculpture was established by Lorenzo de Medici, and Ghirlandaio's scholars were invited to study from the collection of antiques arranged in the Medicean garden, near the piazza of St Mark. It is said that while occupied one day in copying an antique faun, Lorenzo happened to pass, and was much struck by his statue, but said to the young sculptor, " Thou shouldst have remem- bered that old folks never retain all their teeth ; some of them are always wanting." The next time he passed, he found that one of the faun's teeth had been knocked out, and the gum filed away in such a manner as to look as if it had dropped out naturally. Lorenzo being generous, and quick in discovering talent, determined to assist young Michael Angelo; and, sending for his father, he made arrangements that Michael should be entirely given up to his care, to live in his house, and dine at his table. His father, who thought that the prosecution of art, as a profession, was rather degrading to his high birth, was propitiated by Lorenzo bestowing on him an office in the custom house. Lorenzo treated Michael Angelo rather as a relation, than a dependant, placing \^i MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 19 him at the same table with his own sons, with PoHziano, and other learned men, who then graced his residence. During the four years that he remained there, he laid the foundation of all his acquirements ; he especially studied poetry, and thus was enabled to rival Da Vinci in his sonnets, and to relish Dante, a bard of great sublimity. Besides studying antiques in the garden of Lorenzo, Michael Angelo attended to anatomy, a science to which he is said to have dedicated twelve years, with great injury to his health, but which determined his style, his practice, and his glory. To this study he owed that mode from which he obtained the name of the Dante of the art. It is said that Torregiano, being jealous of the attention which Michael Angelo received from Lorenzo, while working together in a church, struck him such a violent blow in the face, that his nose was broken and crushed in a manner from which it could never be recovered, so that he was marked for life \ whereupon Torregiano was banished from Florence in consequence of this blow, which was given in reply to some contemptuous speech of Michael Angelo, who even in youth, and in his palmiest days, seems to have indulged in bitterness of tongue. After the death of Lorenzo in 1492, Michael Angelo removed for a short time to Bologna, to avoid the disturbances which ensued after the accession of Pietro de Medici. He returned, however, to Florence in 1494. Very shortly after this period, in consequence of the remarkable excellence of a Sleeping Ctipid, which he produced after his return to Florence, and which was sold at Rome as a veritable antique, he was invited to Rome by Cardinal San Giorgio, who had purchased the statue. Michael Angelo buried it to give it 20 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI v the appearance of age, and broke off one of its arms, which he kept ; and when the fallacy was discovered, he showed the arm, whicli exactly fitted the broken part. A proud stern spirit gave its peculiar impress, alike to the actions and works of Michael Angelo. Vigenero, who was intimately acquainted with him, says, " I may add that I have seen Michael Angelo, although then sixty years old, and not in robust health, strike more chips from the hardest marble in quarter of an hour, than would be carried off by three young stone cutters in three or four times as long — a thing incredible to him who has not seen it. He would approach the marble with such impetuosity, not to say fury, that I o^ten thought the whole work must be dashed to pieces ; at one blow he would strike off morsels of three and four inches, yet with such exactitude was each stroke given, that a mere atom more would sometimes have spoiled the whole work." On his first visit to Rome, where he went in June 1496, he produced his celebrated Pieta, or group of the Dead Christ on the knees of the virgin, which is now in the church of St Peter. He was then in his twenty-fourth year. It happened one day that Michael Angelo, entering the place where it was erected, found a large assemblage of strangers from Lombardy there, who were praising it highly ; one of these asking who had done it, was told, " Our Hunchback of Milan," hearing which, Michael Angelo remained silent, although surprised that his work should be attributed to another. But one night he repaired to St Peter's with a light and his chisels, and engraved his name on the cincture which girdles the robe of Our Lady. From this work Michael Angelo acquired great fame. Vasari says, " To this work I think no sculptor, however dis- \L3 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 21 s, which showed alike to ero, who add that ears old, e hardest ;d off by 5 long — a ^e would »t to say dashed to three and )kc given, boiled the le went in group of is now in inty-fourth ), entering mblage of it highly ; Id, ''Our Angelo should be red to St his name ly. From Vasari wever dis- 1 tinguished an artist, could add a single grace or improve it by whatever pains he might take, whether in elegance and delicacy, or force, and the careful perforation of the marble, nor could any surpass the art which Michael Angelo has here exhibited. Among other fine things may be remem- bered, to say nothing of the admirable draperies, that the body of the Dead Christ exhibits the very perfection of research in every muscle, vein, and nerve, nor could any corpse more completely resemble the dead than does this. There is, besides, a most exquisite expression in the countenance, and the limbs are affixed to the trunk in a manner that is truly perfect ; the veins and pulses, moreover, are indicated with so much exactitude, that one cannot but marvel how the hand of the artist should in a short time have produced such a work, or how a stone, which just before was without form or shape, should all at once display such perfection as nature can but rarely produce in flesh." Michael Angelo again returned to Florence about the year 1501, and then executed his colossal statue of David, lately in the Piazza del Granduca, but now removed to another site. About 1503 he received a commission from Soderini, then (lonfaloniere of Florence, to decorate one end of the Council Hall; the opposite wall being entrusted to Leonardo da Vinci, as already stated. Leonardo began, but did not complete his picture. Michael Angelo's does not appear to have been commenced ; but his cartoon, well known as the Cartoon of Pisa, was finished about the year 1506 : it represented Pisan soldiers, while bathing in the Arno, surprised by Florentines. Both designs presented so it MICHAEL ANGF.I.0 BUONARROir \ \ I \ w i li ► ' I many various and masterly views of the human figure, that they became, to use the words of Uenvenuto Cellini, "The School of the World." His statue of NiiH^lit was considered so beautiful, that the following lines by Giovanni Battista Strozzi were hung upon it — " The night that here thou secst, in graceful guise Thus sleeping, by an angel's hand was carved In this pure stone ; but sleeping, still she lives ; Awake her if thou doubtest, and she 'II speak." To these words, Michael Angelo, speaking in name of Night, replied — " Happy am I to sleep, and still more blest To be of stone, which grief and shame endure ; To see, nor feel, is now my utmost hope, Wherefore speak softly, and awake me not." Michael Angelo paid a second visit to Rome, by the invitation of Tope Julius II., recently elected to the papal chair, who commissioned him to make a design for a mausoleum which that Pope intended to erect for himself in the church of St. Peter. This work was never completed, but Michael Angelo executed for it the famous statue of Afoses, seated, grasi)ing his flowing beard with one hand, and with the other sustaining the tables of the law. This statue is now in the church of St Pietro in Vincoli, but is not so advantageously seen as it would have been, if surrounded by all the accessories of a finished monument. The hands and arms are extremely fine, and rival the great productions of Grecian art. " Here sits," says Forsyth, " the Moses of Michael uai^ 1 / ,nirc, that ni, *' The , that the :rc hung name of ), by the lie papal jjn for a r himself IS never • it the flowing ustaining e church isly seen cessories rms are Grecian Michael MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 23 Angclo, frowning with the terrific eyebrows of Olympian Jove. Homer and Phidias, indeed, placed their god on a golden throne ; but AFoscs is cribbed into a niche like a prebendary in his stall. Much wit has been levelled of late at his flowing beard and his flaming horns. One critic comi)ares his head to a goat's ; another, his dress to a galley-slave's. Hut the true sublime resists all ridicule ; the offended lawgiver frowns on unrepressed, and awes you with inherent authority." Michael Angelo, however, returned again to Florence in 1505, having been annoyed at the treatment he received. He went one day to wait on the Pope, and the attendant refused to admit him. A bishop, who stood near, observed to the attendant that perhaps he was unacquainted with the person he refused to admit, but the man said, that he knew him well. " I, however," he added, " am here to do as my superiors command, and to obey the orders of the Pope." Displeased with this reply, the master departed, bidding the attendant to tell his Holiness, when next he should in([uire for Michael Angelo, that he had gone elsewhere. He then returned home, and ordering two of his servants to sell all his moveables to the Jews, and then follow him to Florence, he took post-horses that same night, and left Rome. He did not halt till he had arrived in the Florentine territor}\ F'ive couriers followed him, one after another, with letters from the Pope, but nothing would induce him to return. He, however, wrote to his Holiness saying that he must excuse his returning, that he had been treated unworthily, and added that the Holy Father might seek elsewhere for some one who should serve him better. Having reached Florence, he completed the cartoon for ■rr m 34 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI n % 1 '|: \ % \ the great hall. The Signoria meanwhile received three briefs, with the request that Michael Angelo might be sent back to Rome. He refused to go, until Soderini at length prevailed on him to do so, by investing him with the character of ambassador from the Florentine Republic, and recommending him also to the care of his brother, the Cardinal Soderini, whom he charged to introduce Michael Angelo to his Holiness ; he then sent the artist to Bologna, in which city Pope Julius had already arrived from Rome. Having been presented, he knelt down before his Holiness, who looked askance at him with an angry countenance, and said, " Instead of coming to us, it appears that thou hast been waiting till w^e should come to thee," — in allusion to the fact that Bologna is nearer to Florence than Rome. But with a clear voice, and hands courteously extended, Michael Angelo excused himself, having first entreated pardon, admitting that he had acted in anger, but adding, that he could not endure to be thus ordered away — if he had been in error, his Holiness would doubtless be pleased to forgive him. He remained kneeling, and the Pope continued to bend his brows in silence, when a certain bishop, in attendance on the Cardinal Soderini, thinking to mend the matter, interfered with excuses, representing that " Michael Angelo — poor man ! — had erred through ignor- ance ; that artists were wont to presume too much on their genius," and so forth. The irascible Pope, interrupting him with a sharp blow across the shoulders with his staff, exclaimed, " It is thou that art ignorant and presuming, to insult him, whom we feel ourselves bound lo honour. Take thyself out of our sight !" And as the terrified prelate stood transfixed with amazement, the Pope's I ^ I ■ P ^1 *MW^V '^wwp^ MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 25 attendants forced him out of the room. Julius then, turning to Michael Angelo, gave him his forgiveness and his blessing, and commanded him never again to leave him, promising him on all occasions his favour and protection. He was commissioned by the Pope to make his statue in bronze, and when the clay model was finished before Pope Julius left Bologna for Rome, he went to see it. The right hand being raised in an attitude of much dignity, the Pontiff, not knowing what was to be placed in the left, inquired whether he were anathematizing the people, or giving them his benediction. Michael Angelo replied, that he was admonishing the Bolognese to behave themselves discreetly, and asked his Holiness to decide whether it were not well to put a book in the left hand. " Put a sword into it," replied Pope Julius, "for of letters I know but little." When Michael Angelo had comjjleted this statue, he returned to Rome, where he commenced the decoration of the Sistine chapel, built by Sixtus in 1473. He was called upon to cover the vaulted ceiling of the chapel with frescoes, and the task presented many difficulties, and was very unwillingly undertaken by him. The ceiling of the Sistine chapel contains the most perfect works done by IVIichael Angelo in his long and active life. Here his great spirit appears in its noblest dignity, in its brightest purity. The ceiling forms a flattened arch in its section, the central portion, which is a plane surface, contains a series of large and small pictures, representing the most important events recorded in the book of Genesis : the creation and fall of man, with its immediate consequences. In the large triangular compartments at the springing of the vault are n^ 26 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI \\ sitting figures of the prophets and sibyls, as the foretellers of the coming of the Saviour. There are also a series of the ancestors of the Virgin, leading the mind directly to the Saviour. It required the united power of an architect, sculptor, and painter to conceive a work of such grandeur, and Michael Angelo has succeeded in preserving the significant repose required by their sculpturesque character, and yet has kept their subordination to the principal subjects, and preserved the latter in the proportions and relations best adapted to the space to be filled. Michael Angelo commenced his designs in 1508, and the ceiling was finished on All Saints Day, ist November 1512. When the Medici were exiled from Florence, those who governed the city, resolving to re-build the fortifications, made Michael Angelo commissary-general of the whole works. In that capacity he prepared numerous designs, adding much to the defences of the city. He was also employed to inspect the fortifications and artillery at Ferrara, where he received many proofs of favour from Duke Alfonso I. The siege of Florence took place in 1529. He had lent the Republic a thousand crowns, and as he was made one of the council of war, called the Nine, he turned all his mind to perfecting and strengthening of the defences. But it is said he had discovered treasonable intentions on the part of the Captain-General of the Florentines, who was in treaty with the Pope to betray the city ; he therefore left the city secretly, intending to go to Venice. He was accompanied by his disciple Antonio Mini, and the goldsmith Piloto. They reached Ferrara in safety, and were courteously treated by Duke Alfonso. From Ferrara, Michael Angelo repaired to Venice, when the MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 27 most distinguished citizens waited upon him desiring to make his acquaintance. He was meanwhile earnestly intreated to return to his native city, and not to abandon his works there ; a safe conduct was likewise sent him ; and, moved by love of his native place, he did eventually return, but not without danger to his life. During nearly the whole pontificate of Leo X., the successor of Julius II., nearly nine years, Michael Angelo was employed chiefly in the unworthy occupation of procuring marble from the quarries of Pietra Santa for the fa(;ade of the church of San Lorenzo at Florence ; he paid, however, three visits to Rome during this interval, in 1515-16-17. During the pontificate of Leo's successor, Adrian VL, and part of that of Clement VII., he was employed on the works of the Medici chapel in the church of San Lorenzo at Florence. In the tenth year, however, of Clement's pontificate, 1533, thirteen years after the death of Raphael, he commenced his cartoons for the celebrated fresco of the Last J^udgmc7it, on the altar wall of the Sistine chapel, sixty feet high. It was continued during the pontificate of Paul III., and was finished in 1541. The day of wrath (" dies irae ") is before us, the day of which the old hymn says — Quantiis tremor est futurus, Quando judex est venlurus, Cuncta striate discussurus ! In English it wants the fine rolling sound of the Latin — " O what trembling there shall be, When the world its Judge shall see, Coming in dread majesty ! " 28 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI Michael Angelo was sixty years of age when he com- menced this great work, which occupied him seven years. It is perhaps the most wonderful of all his works, if we consider the countless number of figures, the boldness of the conception, the variety of movement and attitude, the masterly drawing, particularly the extraordinary and difficult foreshortenings. This immense work certainly stands alone in the history of art, but in purity and majesty it does not equal the paintings on the ceiling. " The lower half," says Kiigler, " deserves the highest praise. In the convulsive struggles of the condemned with the evil demons, the most passionate energy displays itself, and the extraordinary skill of the artist here finds its most appropriate exercise." In the upper part of the painting, is the Saviour seated with the Virgin on his right hand, which is extended in the act of pronouncing condemnation. Above, in the arches of the vault, are groups of angels bearing the instruments of the Passion. On one side of the Saviour is the host of saints and patriarchs, and on the other, the martyrs, with the symbols of their sufferings : St Catherine may be recognised with her wheel, St Bartholomew with his skin, St Sebastian with his arrows, St Peter with the keys, &c. Below is a group of angels sounding the last trumpet, and bearing the books of Judgment. On their left (right of the observer) is represented the fall of the damned ; the demons are seen coming out of the pit to seize them as they struggle to escape ; their features express the utmost despair, con- trasted with the wildest passions of rage, anguish, and defiance ; Charon is ferrying another group across the Styx, and is striking down the rebellious with his oar, in < = ^w%i-ww^^^9^^^9mm MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 29 accordance with the description of Dante. On the opposite side the blessed are rising slowly and in uncertainty from their graves; some are ascending to heaven, while saints and angels are assisting them to rise into the region of the blessed. While the work was proceeding, Pope Paul III. went to see it, and Biagio da Cesena, the master of ceremonies, a very punctilious man, being in the chapel with the Pontiff, was asked what he thought of the performance. To this he replied, that it was an improper thing to paint so many nude forms in so highly honoured a place; adding that such pictures were better suited to a bath-room, or a road-side wine shop, than to a chapel of a pope. Dis- pleased by these remarks, Michael Angelo resolved to be avenged, and Biagio had no sooner departed, than our artist drew his portrait from memory, and placed him in Hell under the figure of Minos with a great serpent wound round his waist, and standing in the midst of a troop of devils. Michael Angelo would not remove it, though Biagio applied to the Pope, who is said to have replied to Biagio's complaint by the comforting assurance that, " If the painter had put thee into Purgatory, I would have done all I could for thee, but since he hath sent thee to Hell, it is useless for thee to come to me, since thence, as thou knowest, nulla est redemption Dante said of this work — " Dead are the dead, the living seem to live." Vasari says — " Truly fortunate may that man be esteemed, and happy are his recollections, who has been privileged to behold this wonder of our age." Thrice blessed and fortunate art thou, O Paul III., since God has permitted that under thy protection was sheltered that T w I i 1 I 1^ : ■ic. ! 30 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI renown which the pens of writers shall give to his memory, and thine own ! How highly are thy merits enhanced by his act ! It was opened to public view on Christmas day, in the year 1541. The Last Judgment was filled with such a profusion of nudity, that it was in great danger of being destroyed, from a regard to the decency of the sanctuary. Paul IV. proposed to whitewash it, and was hardly appeased with the correction of its most glaring indeli- cacies, by some drapery introduced here and there by Daniele da Volterra, on whom the facetious Romans, from this circumstance, conferred the nick-name of the Breeches Alaker. In 1547, Michael Angelo was appointed to succeed Antonio da San Gallo, as architect of St Peter's, which, though the first stone had been laid by Julius II. in 1506, was still very little advanced. The original architect was Bramante. Michael Angelo undertook the responsibility without salary. He continued architect throughout the pontificates of Paul HI., Julius III., Marcellus II., Paul IV., and Pius IV., until his death; he carried the building to the base of the cupola. The pictures ascribed to Michael Angelo in different galleries are seldom genuine; he very rarely exercised his hand in easel pictures, and probably never painted in oil. It appears from the evidence of contemporary writers, that in the last years of his life, the acknowledged worth and genius of Michael Angelo, his wide spread fame, and his unblemished integrity, combined with his venerable age and the haughtiness and reserve of his deportment to invest him with a sort of princely dignity. It is recorded MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 31 that when he waited on Pope Julius III. to receive his commands, the Pontiff rose on his approach, seated him, in spite of his excuses, on his right hand ; and while a crowd of cardinals, prelates, ambassadors were standing round at humble distance, carried on the conference as equal with equal. The Grand Duke Cosmo I. always uncovered in his presence, and stood with his hat in his hand while speaking to him. In his old age, he met with a great loss in the death of his faithful servant Urbino, who had been with him twenty-six years. The following incident in his life, proves conclusively that Michael Angelo's real, sensitive and loving nature lay too deep for men to discover, except by long and intimate knowledge of the haughty and melancholy man. And those who knew him best, testify to the real heart- goodness of the savage old giant, and we are told he had a natural dread of giving pain. He was a true Christian, a benevolent and liberally minded man. One day, as Urbino stood by him while he worked, he said to him, " My poor Urbino ! what wilt thou do when I am gone?" ''Alas!" replied Urbino, "I must then seek another master!" — "No," replied Michael Angelo, "that shall never be I" and he immediately presented him with two thousand crowns, thus rendering him independent of himself and others. Urbino, however, continued in his service, and Michael Angelo loved him so much, that although so old, he nursed him in his last sickness, and slept in his clothes beside him, the better to watch over him, and attend to his comforts. When Urbino died, Vasari wrote to Michael Angelo to 32 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI \\ Ui '<^^ % console him, and his master replied in these words. — " My dear Giorgio, I can but ill write at this time, yet to reply to your letter I will try to say something. You know that Urbino is dead, and herein I have received a great mercy from God, but to my heavy grief and infinite loss. The mercy is this, that whereas in his life he has kept me living, so in his death he has taught me to die, not only without regret, but with the desire to depart. I have had him twenty-six years, have ever found him singularly faithful, and now that I have made him rich, and hoped to have him the staff and support of my old age, he has disappeared from my sight, nor have I now left any other hope than that of rejoining him in Paradise. But of this God has given me a foretaste in the most blessed death that he has died ; his own departure did not grieve him, as did the leaving me in this treacherous world, with so many troubles. Truly is the best part of my being gone with him, nor is anything now left me except an infinite sorrow. And herewith I bid you farewell." Under Paul IV., Michael Angelo was much employed in many parts of the fortifications of Rome. He, however, left Rome about 1556, retiring into the mountains of Spoletto. He was much annoyed by interference with his management of the works of St Peter's ; Vasari pressed him to leave Rome, and return to Florence : he replied — " I see well the love you bear me, and do you, on your part, know to a certainty that I w^ould gladly rest my weak frame by the bones of my father as you exhort me to, but if I departed hence I should do great injury to the fabric of St Peter's, which would be a shame, as well as heavy sin ; yet when all is so far completed, that nothing can be ;> TI ds.— " My to reply to know that reat mercy loss. The me living, ily without ; had him ly faithful, id to have lisappeared le than that [ has given ; has died ; leaving me ;. Truly is is anything iwith I bid -nployed in however, untains of rence with ;ari pressed eplied— " I your part, ^veak frame o, but if I e fabric of heavy sin ; ng can be ,-\ MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 33 changed, I hope still to do as you desire, if indeed it be not sinful to disappoint a set of rogues who are expecting me daily to leave the world." With this letter, came the following sonnet — " Now in frail bark, and on the storm-tossed wave, Doth this my life approach the common port, Whither all haste to render up account Of every act — the erring and the just. Wherefore, I now do see, that by the love Which rendered Art mine idol and my lord, I did much err. Vain are the loves of man, And error lurks within his every thought. " Light hours of this my life, where are ye now, When towards a two-fold death my foot draws near ? The one well known, the other threatening loud. Not the erst worshipped art can now give peace To him whose soul turns to that love divine, Whose arms shall lift him from the cross to heaven." Vasari gives a most minute account of his personal appearance. " Michael Angelo had an excellent constitu- tion, a spare form, and strong nerves. He was of middle height, the shoulders broad, and the whole form well proportioned. His face was round — the brow square and ample, with seven direct lines in it ; the temples projected much beyond the ears, which were somewhat large, and stood a little off from the cheeks ; the nose was rather flattened, having been broken with a blow of the fist by Torregiano ; the eyes were rather small than large, of a dark colour mingled with blue and yellowish points; the eyebrows had but few hairs ; the lips were thin, the lower somewhat the larger, and slightly projecting ; the chin well 34 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI %A\ formed, and in fair proportion to the rest of the face ; the hair black, mingled with grey, as was the beard, which was divided in the middle, and neither very thick nor very long." In all things he was exceedingly moderate. Ever intent upon work during the period of youtli, he contented himself with a little bread and wine, and at a later period, until he had finished the chapel, it was liis habit to take but a frugal refreshment at the close of his day's work. Although rich, he lived like a poor man ; rarely did any friend or other person eat at his table, and he would accept no presents, considering that he would be bound to any one who offered him such. His temperance kept him in constant activity, and he slept very little, frequently rising in the night because he could not sleep, and resuming his labours with the chisel. His scholars were chiefly Venusti, Sebastiano del Piombo, Volterra, and Vasari. He loved solitude, and used to say, that " painting was jealous and required the whole man to herself." Being asked why he did not marry ? he answered — " Painting was his wife, and his works his children." The house of Michael Angelo in Florence, in which there are many interesting relics and memories of the mighty master, whose ancestral dwelling it was, now belongs to the Municipality of Florence, to whom it was left, a few years ago, by Cosmo Buonarroti, one of the last descendants of the great sculptor's grand nephew. Sir Joshua Reynolds' last discourse, the Fifteenth, consists chiefly of a recommendation to study the works of Michael Angelo. The following are the concluding words of this MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI 35 discourse, and the last uttered by Sir Joshua in the academy : — " 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 from this place, might be the name of Michael Angelo." 15ut the highest eulogy of Michael Angelo, is the expres- sion fre(iucntly made use of by that prince of painters, Paphael, "that he thanked God he was born in the days of Michael Angelo." Sliortly before his death, he was suffering from a slow fever, and requested his physician to write to his nej^hevv Leonardo, to whom he was greatly attached, to hasten his arrival, but his malady increased notwithstanding the cares [of those around him ; still, retaining perfect self-possession, le made his will in three sentences, saying — " He left his |soul to God ;" " his body to the earth ;" " and his goods to lis nearest relatives." He recommended his attendants to )ethink themselves, in the passage from this life, of the Isufferings endured by our Saviour Christ; and on the 17th lof February, 1564 he departed to a better life, in the 89th [year of his age. When Duke Cosimo heard of his death, he resolved that |as he had not been able to do the master honour in his life, le would cause his body to be brought to Florence, where lis obsequies were to be solemnised with all possible splendour; but the remains of the artist had to be sent )ut of Rome in the manner of a bale, such as is made by ^(•If i '. h\ f ^4 36 MICHAEL ANGELO BUONARROTI merchants, that no tumult might arise in the city, and so the departure of the coq^se be prevented. He died immensely rich. His body was removed, as stated, to Florence, and was buried in Santa Croce — the Westminster Abbey of Italy. The statues of the three sister arts — Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, appear as mourners ; and his bust, which was considered a faithful likeness, is placed above the tomb. In Santa Croce's holy precincts lie Ashes which make it holier, dust which is Even in itself an immortality. Though there were nothing save the past, and this, The particle of those sublimities Which have relapsed to chaos : — here repose Angelo's, Alfieri's bones, and his, The starry Galileo, with his woes ; Here Machiavelli's earth return'd to whence it rose. I a L : < U LECTURE II. RAPHAEL AND TITIAN I VAKE for the subject of my lecture this evening the lives and works of two of the greatest painters of modern times — Raphael and Titian. The contrast between those two lives is great indeed — the one cut off in early manhood, the other living to extreme old age — the one distinguished for sweetness of temper, urbanity, good nature, and kindliness of disposition ; tlie other harsh, unbending, and of most jealous temper — but both possessing an innate and clear percci)tion of the beautiful in art in the highest degree. Raffaello Sanzio, generally known as Raphael, was born in Urbino, an important town in Italy, on Good Friday, in the year 1483. His father was Giovanni di Santi, or, as he has been commonly called, Giovanni Sanzio, an artist of moderate talents. Under his father, who died when Rapliael was eleven years of age, he acquired, only the rudiments of his art. He entered in 1495 the studio of Pietro Perugino at Perugia, whose style he imitated and followed, and where he remained till about his twentieth year. Perugino's style was stiff and formal, as will be observed on looking at the photographs of his pictures of the Descent from the Cross, and Madontia and Saints. The foundation of a noble manhood, undeveloped as \ ^ f M 1 q :N*i 38 RAPHAEL it is in the early works of Raphael, is nevertheless apparent in his pure and dear conceptions ; his youthful efforts are essentially youthful, but seem to contain the earnest of a great development. This it is which invests his early productions with so peculiar and great an interest. The circumstances in which he was placed, and the people and country by whom he was surrounded may also have had considerable influence. Dr Waagen says, speaking of Urbino — '' It crowns the summit of a high hill, and is celebrated as much for its pure, healthy air, and tl c fine noble physiognomy of its inhabitants, as for the grand and romantic character of the surrounding country. One remarkable peculiarity, in the latter feature, is the view that is obtained on the east, between the lofty and partly barren hills around, of the smooth surface of the Adriatic, several miles distant. The impression produced by the combined effect of the two grandest objects in nature, mountains and the sea, upon the peculiarly susceptible mind of Raphael, when a child, was deep and lasting ; and a proof of this we observe in the background of many of his landscapes, in which he has repeatedly introduced these effects — on either side chains of mountains, parted in the distance by the sea, which closes the horizon. In like manner, the local physiognomy of the people was so imprinted on his mind, that, during my visit to Urbino, I observed many features which seemed the very types of his earlier pictures." A few of his earlier productions may be mentioned, which are tolerably well authenticated, such as The Mado)ina and Child, in the Berlin Gallery, The Adoration of the Kings, and The Coronation of the Virgin, in the Vatican, painted in 1502. RAPHAEL 39 Raphael removed to Florence in 1504, as we learn from a letter bearing date ist October in that year, from Giovanni, Duchess of Sora, sister of the Duke of Urbino, to Piero Soderini, who was the Gonfaloniere of the Florentine Republic, which Raphael took with him, and wherein she calls the j)ainter himself, " a discreet and aimable youth." Having studied the works of Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angclo, he resolved to alter his style ; and, after se\'ere study of ancient statues and bas reliefs, his genius led him to a noble and elevated expression of ideal beauty and grace, the most refined and difficult province of painting. The following jxassage will be found in a letter on the subject of ideal beauty in works of art, from Rai)hael to Baldassare Castiglione — " With respect to the Galatea, I should hold myself to be a great master, if there was in it one-half the merits of which you write ; but in your words I cannot fail to perceive the partiality of your friendship for myself. To paint a figure truly beautiful, it might be necessary that I should see many beautiful forms, with the further provision that you should yourself be near to select the best ; but seeing good judges and beautiful women arc scarce, I avail myself of certain ideas which come into my mind. Whether I have in myself any portion of the excellence of art I know not, but I labour heartily to secure it." One of his pictures of this period is the beautiful one, The Marriage of the Virgin, now in the Brera at Milan, painted in 1504. From this period begins his emancipation from the confined manner of Perugino; and those works which Ill [ y 1 : . 1 • i \ r 1 -I m i! 4 I rf 1 1 I! 40 RAPHAEL immediately followed are characterised by an unconstrained and cheerful conception of life. His visit to Florence was short, for in the following year he was employed on several large works at Perugia. Raphael again returned to Flor- ence, where he remained (with the exception of some visits to Urbino and Perugia) until the middle of the year 1508. He then painted The Madomia del CardcHino, in the Uffizi Gallery at Florence ; The Virgin in the Meadow^ in the Belvedere Gallery at Vienna ; and The Efitonibment of Christ (painted in 1507), in the Borghese Gallery at Rome. About the middle of the year 1508, Raphael, then in his twenty-fifth year, was invited to the court of Pope Julius II., in order to decorate the state apartments of the papal residence in the Vatican with the works of his pencil, and he was placed in the Vatican at a period, and under circumstances, calculated to render him the first painter in the world. He assiduously cultivated anatomy, histoiy, and poetry, but his principal pursuit in Rome was the study of the remains of Grecian genius, and by which he perfected his knowledge of art. So comprehensive and extended were the views of Raphael, in all things relating to his works, that he kept designers employed in all parts of Italy, at Puzzuolo, and even in Greece, to the end that he might want nothing of that which appertained to his art, and for this he spared neither labour nor cost. A natural taste for the beautiful, an intellectual faculty of combining the several excellencies of many individuals in one perfect whole, a vivid apprehension, and a sort of fervour in seizing the momentary expression of passion, a facility of touch, obedient to the highest conceptions of the Piip««OT mil 11 4 ^"^ RAPHAEL 41 imagination, were means which nature alone could furnish, and these he possessed from his earliest years. He studied with his uncle Bramante, the celebrated architect, for six years, in order that, on his uncle's death, he might succeed him in the management of the building of St Peter's. His amazing labours were constant and severe during the years he was employed there, and his works cover the ceilings and walls of three chambers, and a large saloon, which now bears the name of the " Stanze of Raphael." They are all executed in fresco, and no one can view those great monuments of his genius without wonder and astonishment. The origin and history of these decorations has been thus related by De Quesnoy — "At the time Raphael was charged with the archi- tecture and decoration of the Loggie of the Vatican, the interior of the Baths of Titus had just been discovered. It cannot be doubted but that the ornamental painting, with which all the hails of this vast edifice were covered, inspired him with the idea of applying the style to the galleries, which he very possibly planned with this view, in the court of the Vatican, the disposition of which is favourable to it. Each arcade, forming in the continuous series of the porticoes, a small ceiling of its own, presents numerous spaces for arabesque. The halls of the Baths of Titus, long buried, owed the entire preservation of their paintings, when discovered, to the very cause which had created their oblivion ; they were in all their original freshness and splendour, of a brilliancy of which the external air and various accidents have since deprived them. Raphael seized the opportunity to reproduce, with i. i ' Jl »n 42 RAPHAEL more effect than any of his predecessors, the elegant details of anticjue forms, and the mt^lange of colours, stucco, and ingenious trifles, without falling into the extravagance into which the independence of an imitation without the limits fixed by a positive model, may so easily lead. In truth, he adopted, not actually tlie ornaments of the Baths of Titus, as some have asserted, but merely the spirit and gusto in which their chief merit consists." With these works commences the third period of Raphael's development. In these he reached his highest perfection. Two of his finest frescoes are TJic Defeat of Maxeiititis at the JSIilvian Jhidi^c by Constanti'/ie, in the Sala of Constantine — an immense picture. The other — T/ie Deliverance of St Peter, in the Stanza of Heliodorus. It is impossible in a short lecture to do more than be- stow a passing glance at some of the numerous works exe- cuted by Raphael, but I may remark that the following were painted in his best style, and at his most vigorous period. — The Madonna di Poligno, in the Vatican, painted 151 1 ; 77ie Fornarina, in the Ufiizi (lallery, Florence; Portrait of Pope Julius IT., in the Pitti Palace, and another of the same in the Uffizi (Jallery; Portrait of Pope Leo X., witli Cardinals de Medici and de Rossi, in the Museum at Naples ; Portrait of Cccsar Borgia, in the Porgliese Oallery, Rome ; The Madonna della Sedia, in the Pitti Palace, Florence. Raphael's peculiar element was grace and beauty of form, in as far as these are the expression of high moral purity, and this is shown in a remarkable manner in his glorious picture, The Afadonna di San Sisto, on which we must dwell for a short time. This magnificent picture, now in ■L ^v.' J li RAPHAEL 43 tit details icco, and mce into he limits truth, he of Titus, gusto in eriod of ; highest Defeat of e, in the other — iliodorus. than be- rorks exe- foUowing vigorous , painted lorence ; ice, and rtrait of 'e Rossi, ^on^ia, in /a Sedia, of form, i\ purity, glorious we must now in the Royal Gallery at Dresden, was painted for the altar of the lilack Monks of Saint Sixtus, at Piacenza, in Italy; and was purchased by the Elector Augustus III. of Saxony in 1753 for 20,000 ducats, about ;^8ooo sterling. It is ])ainte(l in the artist's best style, and is a masterpiece of art. This picture was carefully cleaned in 1827 by ralmaroli, and is now in an excellent state of preservation. The colouring and drawing are excjuisite, and the beauty of the Virgin, and the lovely, abstracted, serene expression of iier countenance, void of all earthly feelings, is remark- able. She seems to float in air, as she stands on clouds, surrounded by innumerable heads of cherubim, and be gradually ascending from the spectator's presence. In rei)eated visits to this picture, which, with excellent taste, is kept in a sei)arate room, I always observed that persons entering the room, did so softly, and with an appearance of awe and reverence — an unmistakeable tribute to the genius of Raphael. Sir David Wilkie, remarking on this picture, says — " The head of the Virgin is perhaps nearer the perfection of female beauty and elegance than anything in painting ; it is truly impressive and beautiful." The figures of Saint or Pope Sixtus on the right, and St Barbara on the left, are very fine and expressive; and the two heads of angel children below, looking up at the Virgin ascending to Heaven, are full of expression. Kiigler says, " T//e Madonna is one of the most wonderful creations of Raphael's pencil. There is something scarcely describable in her countenance ; it expresses a timid astonishment at the miracle of her ov.n elevation, and at 44 RAPHAEL \\ I '■f I the same time, the freedom and dignity resulting from the consciousness of her divine situation. The child rests naturally, but not listlessly, in her arms, and looks down upon the world with a serious expression. This is a rare example of a picture of Raphael's later time, executed entirely by his own hand." And Mrs Jameson, in her " Sketches of Art, Literature, and Character," thus most eloquently describes it — " On entering the gallery for the first time, I walked straight forward, without pausing, or turning to the right or the left, into the Raffaelle room, and looked round for the Madonna del Sisto, — literally, with a kind of misgiving. Familiar as the form might be to the eye and to the fancy, from numerous copies and prints, still the unknown original held a sanctuary in my imagination, like the mystic Isis behind her veil ; and it seemed that whatever I beheld of lovely, or perfect, or soul-speaking in art, had an unrevealed rival in my imagination ; something was beyond — there was a criterion of possible excellence, as yet only conjectured — for I had not seen the Madonna del Sisfo. Now, when I was about to lift my eyes to it, I literally hesitated — I drew a long sigh, as if resigning myself to disappointment, and looked — Yes ! there she was indeed ! that divinest image that ever shaped itself in palpable hues and forms to the living eye ! What a revelation of ineffable grace, and purity, and truth, and goodness ! There is no use attempting to say anything about it ; too much has already been said and written. And what are words ? After gazing on it again and again, day after day, I feel that to attempt to describe the impression is like measuring the infinite and sounding the unfathomable. When I looked up at it ^^^m^^^^^ ^••v^wp^^^^swr RAPHAEL 45 from the lild rests oks down is a rare executed Literature, I walked e right or nd for the misgiving. the fancy, m original nystic Isis beheld of mrevealed -there was ectured — w, when I i — I drew nent, and est image ms to the race, and no use as already ter gazing attempt le infinite 1 up at it to-day, it gave me the idea, or rather the feeling, of a vision descending and floating down upon me. The head of the Virgin is quite superhuman ; to say that it is beautiful, gives no idea of it. Some of Correggio's and Guide's virgins, the Virgin of Murillo at the Leutchtenberg Palace — have more beauty, in the common meaning of the word ; but every other female face, however lovely, however majestic, would, I am convinced, appear either trite or exaggerated, if brought into immediate comparison with this divine countenance. There is such a blessed calm in every feature ! and the eyes beaming with a kind of internal light, look straight out of the picture — not at you or me — not at anything belonging to this world — but through and through the universe. The unearthly child is a sublime vision of power and grandeur, and seems not so much supported as enthroned in her arms ; and what fitter throne for the Divinity than a woman's bosom full of innocence and love ? The expression in the face of St Barbara, who looks down, has been differently interpreted : to me she seems to be giving a last look at the earth, above which the group is raised as on a hovering cloud. " St Sixtus is evidently pleading, in all the combined fer\'our of faith, hope, and charity, for the congregation of sinners, who are supposed to be kneeling before the picture — that is for lis, to whom he points. Finally, the cherubs below, with their upward look of rapture and wonder, blending the most childish innocence with a sublime inspiration, complete the harmonious whole, uniting heaven with earth. " While I stood in contemplation of this all-perfect work, I felt the impression of its loveliness in my deepest heart, not 46 RAPHAEL only without the j^owor, but without the thouglit or wish to give it voice or words, till some lines of Shelley's — lines which were not, but, methinks, ought to have been, inspired by the Madonna — came, uncalled, floating through my memory. — • ** Seraph of Heaven ! too gentle to be human, Veiling beneath that radiant form of woman All that is unsupportable in thee, Of light, and love, and immortality ! Sweet benediction in the eternal cunie ! Veil'd glory of this lampless universe ! Thou harmony of Nature's art ! I measure The world of fancies, seeking one like thee. And find — alas ! mine own infirmity I" About this time too — 1514-1516 — belongs the celebrated picture, The Vision of Ezckici, in the Pitti Palace, Florence. No other picture shows, in so small a space, such a sublime figure of the Almighty, as with uplifted hands He moves onwards in rapid flight, in severe majesty and miglit. The two angels have a wonderful air of inspiration, and the four symbols of the Evangelists are drawn with great power. While in Rome, Raphael was engaged in directing the works of St Peter's, from his own plan from the middle of 1515- Bramante must have entertained the highest opinion of his ability when he recommended him to Leo X., as the fittest person to continue the building of St Peter's. This was Bramante's dying wish ; and the brief of the Pope, or a copy of it, nominating Raphael to the office, has been preserved, and is as follows : — " Besides the art of painting. ■^1'. RAPHAEL 47 3r wish to y's — lines ive been, 5 through celebrated Florence, a sublime rle moves ht. The i the four at power, acting the middle of )pinion of , as the tr's. This Pope, or has been painting. in which you are universally known to excel, you were, by the architect Bramantc, equally esteemed for your know- ledge in that profession; so that, when dying, he justly considered that to you might be confided the construction of that temple, which by him was begun in Rome, to the Prince of the Apostles ; and you have learnedly confirmed that opinion by the plan " — it is presumed that a model, not a plan, is meant here, from a letter written by Raphael to Count Castiglione — " for that temple requested of you. We, who have no greater desire than that the temple should be built with the greatest possible magnificence and despatch, do appoint you superintendent of that work, with a salary of three hundred golden crowns per annum (about ;^i5o) out of the money laid aside for the said construction. And we order that you be paid punctually every month, or on your demand, the proportion due. *' We exhort you to undertake the charge of this work in such a manner, that in executing it you have due regard to your own reputation and good name, for which things the foundation must be laid in youth. Let your efforts correspond to our hopes in you, to our paternal benevolence towards you, and, lastly, to the dignity and fame of that temple, ever the greatest in the whole world, and most holy ; and to our devotion for the Prince of the Apostles. Rome, the I St of August, the second year of our Pontificate, 15 15." What St Peter's would have been under the sole direction of the great artist, it is impossible now to say ; the model or plan alluded to in the Pope's letter has disappeared, and we believe no portion of his design exists, except a drawing published in an old Italian work. He executed several other architectural works, and in the i.v.v "mwm 48 RAPHAEL latter years of his life he was zealously occupied in superin- tending the exhumation of the monuments of antiquity, and in designing a restoration of ancient Rome, and he did not even omit to undertake works in sculpture. In Rome, where he lived in great splendour, he was treated with the greatest consideration, and he was universally loved and esteemed. It is related of him, that whenever any other painter, whether known to him or not, requested any design or assistance of whatever kind, at his hands, he would invariably leave his work to do him service ; he continually kept a large number of artists employed, all of whom he assisted and instructed with an affection, which was rather as that of a father to his children, than merely as of an artist to artists. From these things it followed, that he was never seen to go to court, but surrounded and accompanied, as he left his house, by some fifty painters, all men of ability and distinction, who attended him thus to give evidence of the honour in which they held him. He did not, in short, live the life of a painter, but that of a prince. We learn from Vasari, that in addition to the benefits which this great master conferred on art, being as he was its best friend, we have the further obligation to him of having taught us, by his life, in what manner we should comport ourselves towards great men, as well as towards those of lower degree, and even towards the lowest. Nay, there was among his many extraordinary gifts one of such value and importance, that I can never sufficiently admire it, and always think thereof with astonishment. This was the power accorded to him by heaven, of bringing all who approached his presence into harmony. An effect incon- ih. RAPHAEL 49 ccivaMy surprising and contrary to the nature of artists ; yet all, 1 do not say of the inferior grades only, but even those who lay claim to be great personages, became of one mind, once they began to labour in the society of Raphael, continuing in such unity and concord, that all harsh feelings and evil dispositions became subdued, and disappeared at the sight of him — every vile and base thought departing from the mind before his influence. Such harmony prevailed at no other time than his own. Vasari thus sums up his character — " No less excellent than graceful, he was endowed by nature with all that modesty and goodness which may occasionally be perceived in those few favoured persons who enhance the gracious sweetness of a disposition more than usually gentle, by the [fair ornament of a winning amenity, always ready to conciliate, and constantly giving evidence of the most refined consideration for all persons, and under every I circumstance." In addition to his other works, he also executed designs Ifor ten tapestries which were intended to adorn the Sistine Chapel. Seven of these cartoons are preserved in the jpalace of Hampton Court in England. The tapestries [themselves were kept in some rooms of the Vatican. The history of these fabrics is singular, and is thus told )y Mrs Jameson, in her " Memoirs of Early Italian Paint- ers" — "The rich tapestries, worked from the cartoons, in raol, silk, and gold, were completed at Arras, and sent ^0 Rome in 15 19. For these the Pope paid to the lanufacturer at Arras fifty thousand gold ducats (^25,000). 'hey were exhibited for the first time on St Stephen's day, )ecember 26, 15 19. Raffaelle had the satisfaction, before so RAPHAEL he died, of seeing them hung in their places, and of witnessing the wonder and a[)i)lause they excited through the whole city. Their subsequent fate was very curious and eventful. In the sack of Rome, by the Constable de Bourbon, in 1527, they were carried away by the French soldiery, but were restored in 1553, during the reign of Pope Julius III., by the Due de Montmorenci, all but the piece which represented the Coronation of the Virgin, which is supposed to have been burned for the sake of the gold thread. Again, in 1798, they made part of the French spoiliations, and were actually sold to a Jew at Leghorn, who burnt one of them for the purpose of ex- tracting the precious metal contained in the threads. As it was found, however, to furnish very little, the pro- prietor judged it better to allow the others to retain their original shape, and they were soon afterwards re-purchased from him by the agents of Pius VII., and re-instated in the galleries of the Vatican. Several sets of tapestries were worked from the cartoons ; one was sent as a present to Henry VIII., and after the death of Charles I. sent into Spain ; another, or the same set, was exhibited in London a few years ago, and has since been sold to the King of Prussia. At present these tapestries are hung in the Museum at Berlin." Six of them were presented by Leo X. to the Elector, Frederick the Wise, of Saxony, and are now in the Dresden Gallery. Hazlitt in his " Criticisms of Art," in speaking of the cartoons, says — " There is a spirit at work in the divine creation before us ; we are unconscious of any steps taken, of any progress made ; we are aware only of comprehensive RAPHAEL 51 s, and of :d through ;urious and nstable de he French le reign of all but the the Virgin, ;he sake of part of the a Jew at pose of ex- ircads. As e, the pro- ; to retain afterwards VII., and 'eral sets of was sent as :f Charles I. exhibited in sold to the are hung in the Elector, the Dresden king of the 1 the divine steps taken, )mprehensive results — of whole masses of figures; the sense of power supersedes the appearance of efibrt." And again, " Perhaps not all this is owing to genius ; something of this effect may be ascribed to the sim[)licity of the vehicle employed in embodying the story, and something to the decaying and dilapidated state of the pictures themselves. They are the more majestic for being in ruins. We are chiefly struck with the truth of proportion, and the range of conception — all made spiritual. The corruptible has put on incorrup- tion ; and amidst the wreck of colour, and tlie mouldering of material beauty, notliing is left but a universe of thought, or tlie broad imminent shadows of calm contemplation and majestic pains." ^\'e now approach the closing scene, when the hand of the great master was to lose its power. He was engaged on his last and greatest work, the grandest and most magnificent oil painting in the world, the Transfiguration. It was painted for the cathedral of Narbonne, and was not completed when the illustrious artist died. The figure of the demoniac boy is said to have been finished by Giulio Romano, as well as a considerable part of the lower portion of the picture. The upper part of the design is intended to represent Mount Tabor. The three apostles are lying on the ground, unable to bear the light proceeding from the divinity of Christ, who is floating in the air with Moses and Elijah. The scene below is a representation of the sufferings of humanity. On one side are nine of the apostles ; on the other a group of persons are bringing to them a demoniac boy. His limbs are convulsed, and every face wears an expression of terror. Two of the apostles point upwards to indicate the only power by whom he can be cured. The if 52 RAPHAEL I. \ % I n ;f t i I figure of the Saviour is beautiful for its air of spiritual lightness and divinity ; and the head is of unusual beauty and grace. The two figures kneeling under the tree on the mount, in adoration of the mysterious scene, are St Julian and St Lawrence. They were introduced at the request of Cardinal de Medici, as the patron saints of his father and uncle. Their uncalled for introduction somewhat mars the effect. The picture is clear, the colouring bright, the chiaro- scuro correct, of great depth and wonderful expression. The figures appear to stand out from the canvas, and some of the hands and arms appear more like raised carving than ordinary painting. Though this picture has been, with almost general consent, allowed to be Rapliael's finest work, and the greatest and best oil painting in the world, yet it has not escaped criticism ; the double, or two-fold action of the picture being objected to. It doubtless wants the unity of the Madonna di San Sisto, and the calm divinity of that lovely picture; but the execution is exceedingly grand and magnificent. In the Imperial Library at Vienna, among the drawings by the old masters, which are more than 15,000 in number, the most interesting is Raphael's ovm sketch of the Tra?isfiguration. It was probably a study for anatomy, since the figures, which occupy the same situation as in the painting, are all drawn naked : affording an interesting proof of the painstaking and laborious exertions by which the greatest painter that ever lived attained to his eminence in art. Raphael was one of the handsomest men of his time ; with a face most lovely and expressive, beaming with the tender and gentle character of the man. RAPHAEL 53 He never married, but was affianced to Maria, the niece of Cardinal Bibiano, but it is said was in no haste to marry her, Pope Leo X. having intimated to him that he intended to reward him for his labours, as well as to do honour to his talents, by bestowing on him the red hat ; in other words, advance him to the dignity of a cardinal. But this may fairly be doubted, as the lady died in 1518, two years before Raphael. He was much disposed to the gentler affections, and delighted in the society of women, for whom he was ever ready to perform acts of service. But he also permitted himself to be devoted somewhat too earnestly to the pleasures of this life; and, in this respect, was perhaps more than duly considered and indulged by his friends and admirers. We find it related that his intimate friend, Agostino Chigi, had commissioned him to paint the first floor of his palace, but Raphael was at that time so much occupied with the love which he bore to the lady of his choice, that he could not give sufficient attention to the work. Agostino, there- fore, falling at length into despair of seeing it finished, made so many efforts by means of friends, and by his owti care, that after much difficulty, he at length prevailed on the lady to take u^) her abode in his house, where she was accordingly installed in apartments near those which Raphael was painting; in this manner, the work was ultimately brought to a conclusion. I may add, however, that neither Longhena nor Passavant admit the truth of this anecdote. He was suddenly seized with a mortal distemper, and during his illness, which lasted a fortnight, Raphael is said I ! I ' <5 1 I I! i ■,.[ i !; I' !) > I i^ f I « '!^ 54 RAPHAEL to have received proofs of the most affectionate interest from all quarters, not excepting the Pope himself. Raphael's first residence in Rome was in a narrow street in the heart of the old city, opposite Hadrian's- Bridge. It is known as the Via Coronari. The tall houses close it in, so that the sun never reaches the lower stories. The house is featureless, and might not be recognised but for the nearly decayed portrait of its great tenant, which was painted by Carlo Maratti, in 1705, when it was renovated and partly rebuilt. The last home of Raphael is still pointed out ; it stands in the district called the Trastavere, in the small square midway from the Castle of St Angelo and St Peter's. It occupies one side of this square, and is an imposing structure. The architects were Bramante and Baldassare Peruzzi. It is now known as the Palazzo degli Convertiti, and devoted to the reception of converted heretics. Here his body lay in state for several days in front of his unfinished picture — the Transfiguratiou^ his last work. " And vhen all beheld Ilim, where he lay, how changed from yesterday — Him in that hour cut off, and at his head His last great work ; when, entering in, they looked Now on the dead, then on the master-piece ; Now on his face, lifeless and colourless. Then on those forms divine that lived and breathed, And would live on fov ages — all were moved ; And sighs burst forth, and loudest lamentations. " Raphael died, in the bosom of the church, on Good Friday (the anniversary of his birth day) 1520, aged thirty- seven years. TITIAN 55 e interest row street ■idge. It :lose it in, rhe house It for the ,^hich was renovated t stands in ill square 'eter's. It imposing Baldassare Convertiti, ics. Here nt of his 'ork. ed d, on Good Lged thirty- The Pope himself, Leo X., was deeply affected at his death, and requested Cardinal Bembo to compose the epitaph, which is now read on his tomb ; and his loss was considered a national calamity throughout all Italy. He was buried in that building which Lord Byron calls — " Simple, erect, severe, austere, sublime — Shrine of all saints and temple of all gods, From Jove to Jesus Sanctuary and home Of art and piety. I'antheon ! pride of Rome ! I3oubts having been raised as to the precise spot, a search was made in 1833, and Raphael's bones were found, the situation agreeing exactly with Vasari's description of the place of interment. The skull was of a singularly fine form. The bones of the hand were all perfect, but crumbled to dust after a mould was taken. The skeleton measured about five feet seven inches. The coffin was extremely narrow, in- dicating a very slender frame. On the i8th of October in the same year, the relics were re-interred in the same spot, with great solemnities. And thus the mortal remains of the divine Raphael have found their appropriate resting place, in one of the grandest old heathen temples of ancient Rome. In 1477, six years before the birth of Raphael, there was born in the small town of Cadore, on the borders of Friuli, distant about five miles from the foot of the Alps, a pro\ince in the state of Venice, a child, who was destined to become famous as one of the greatest painters of his time. This was Tiziano Vecellio, more commonly known as Titian. He belonged to the ancient family of the Vecelli, one of the most noble in that country. tfi rfaitffriliiir-TifT-"** ^ftri*ii.«iti---irrii^ ^•nr'rt^ ta^ VM t'md'^jui&MULik.iut'.i ■•. r I I ? ' !M ' t ^ * h ! I ' M' Ud^ U 56 TIT/AN He received his first instructions fi"om Sebastiano Zucatti, and giving early proof of great intelligence, he was sent, when ten years of age, to the care of one of his uncles in Venice, a man of good position in that city, who, observing that the boy had a great inclination for painting, placed him in the school of Giovanni Bellini, who was then famous as a painter, and will be known to all time as the master of his two distinguished scholars, Titian and Giorgione. Under Bellini, Titian quickly proved himself to be endowed with singular gifts of judgment, and it was soon discovered that he possessed, in an eminent degree, the genius required for the art of painting. The manner of Bellini was rather dry, hard, and laboured, but, at same time, possessing many redeeming points of excellence. Titian also acquired this style ; but, about the year 1507, Giorgione, his fellow-student, not being pleased or satisfied witli that formal mode, began to give his works greater softness, improving them greatly, and adding immensely to their beauty. Titian, having observed this beneficial change, adopted Giorgionc's manner, and so closely imitated him, that his pictures were sometimes taken for those of that master. He now began to execute numerous works in fresco, and they were so good as to cause experienced men to anticipate the excellence to whicli he afterwards attained. Leaving, too, the style of Giorgione, he now adopted a new mode, less bold, clear, and bright, but one peculiarly his own, the sweetness of which attracts more by the artlese representation of truth, than by the novelty of its effect. In Venice, employed by the Senate, Titian laboured to promote a taste for the art of Mosaic, and the chief works TITIAN 57 in the cathedral of San Marco were executed after his designs, and he also made coloured cartoons for the same. In the portico of San Marco, there is a /udg?ne?ii of Solomon, showing the great perfection to which he brought this art; it is so beautiful, that it could scarcely be executed more delicately with the pencil and colours. In 1530, when the Emperor Charles V. was in Bologna, Titian through the influence of Aretino, was invited to that city by the Cardinal Ippolito de Medici, and then he made a magnificent portrait of his majesty in full armour. Mr Cumberland has well described that fine painting thus : — '' Charles V., in complete armour, his lance in his hand, his visor up, and himself mounted on a beautiful horse, is preparing to pass his troops over a river, which is seen in the scenery in the background. The portrait is the size of life, and painted on a very large canvas. It sets all description at defiance, and there is reason to think that Titian considered it as being his best i)ortrait. In the countenance of the monarch we read his history, or what is perhaps nearer to truth, recollecting his histoiy, we acknow- ledge the agreement of character in every line ; and on the reflection on his features we find the painter has recorded the annals of his life ; never was more expression of mind committed to canvas — a pensive dignity prevails over marks of pain and bodily disease. He is deep in thought, his eyes gloomy and severe, the lids heavy, inflated, and remarkably low over the eye; the under hp projecting, and the mouth characteristic of both resolution and revenge. He is represented advancing to give battle to the unfortunate Elector of Saxony and the Landgrave, those opposers of his power and his faith. External objects have ^-*>.1*A*an>aEt;1 58 TITIAN t I '. !■' ■ 1^ 'k \-\ no share in his attention — the whole man is engrossed by the deepest meditation ; his lance is poised parallel with the ground, and ranges along the side of his horse, with the point advanced beyond its breast. The action of the animal liarmonises with the character of its rider — slow and com- posedly stepping forward, the head low and submissive, and the eye expressive of the most resigned obedience to his imperial master. All is still and calm in the scene ; no flutter or disturbance in the objects ; the colouring, drawing, and perspective are life itself ; and the whole is such perfect nature, that art seems extinguished by its own excellence." Tliis gave so much satisfaction, that he received a pre- sent of a thousand crowns for the same. He took the portrait of Charles V. several limes, and was finally invited by that monarch to his Court. There he painted him as he was in those last years ; and so much was that great emperor pleased with the manner of Titian, that he would never permit himself to be taken by any other person. Eacli time that Titian painted the emperor, he received a present of a thousand crowns of gold ; and he was made a Kniglit and Count Palatine by his majesty, with a revenue of two hundred crowns yearly, secured on the treasury of Naples, and attached to his title. When Titian painted Philip II., king of Spain, son of Charles V., he received anotlier annuity of two hundred crowns. He also painted King Francis I. of France, and an immense number of other distinguished persons. The love of Charles V. for Titian was very great. It is said that the emperor one day took up a pencil which fell from Titian's hand, who was then drawing his picture \ and that, upon the compliment which Titian made him on this *»v,.J. i.l i TITIAN 59 [occasion, he replied, " Titian has merited to be served by jccesar." Some lords of the emperor's Court, not being able Ito conceal their jealousy, upon the preference he gave of Titian's person and conversation to that of all his other courtiers, the emperor freely told them that "he could [never want a court or courtiers, but could not have Titian always with him." Whenever the emperor sent him money, [which was usually a large sum, he always did it with the [obliging testimony, that "his design was not to pay him the value of his pictures, because they were above any price." I Charles V. was no doubt attracted by the cultivated man- I ners of Titian, who, in addition to having received a learned "education, had lived in habits of intimacy with philosophers ■and poets of his time, more especially wdth Ariosto and Aretino. The most finished and beautiful of Titian's early w^orks, or rather one of his most beautiful at any period, is Christ with tJic Tribute Money, painted for the Duke of Fcrrara, and now in Dresden. It is said that this picture w'as painted to compete with Albert Diiror in minuteness of finish, and that he surpassed that artist. It is done with so much exactness that the hairs miglit be numbered, the skin of the hands, the very pores of the flesh, and the reflection of objects in the pupils of the eyes. This picture is wonderfully rich >'- colouring, and painted throughout like a miniature. It brings vividly before the spectator the scene described in Matthew xxii. 20 and 21 — "And he saith unto them. Whose is this image and superscription? They say unto him, Ccesar's. Then saith he unto them. Render therefore unto Ctcsar the things which are Caesar's ; and unto God the things that are God's." 6o TITIAN r !i Before alluding to Titian's more developed period, and noticing some of his greatest efforts, it may be well to state that he had gradually acquired a free, open, and serene beauty of expression, a pleasing and noble idea of nature. The beings he creates seem to have the high consciousness and enjoyment of existence \ hence they produce so grateful an impression on the mind of the spectator. He reposes in quiet dignity, and his colouring is the expression of life itself He was peculiar in introducing landscape into his pic- tures — a native of the Alps, the mountains, villages, and trees of his own Friuli were often introduced into his glowing pictures. Fresnoy says : — " He was one of the greatest uolourists who was ever known. He designed with much more ease and practise than Giorgione. His painting is wonderfully glowing, sweet, and delicate. He made portraits which were extremely noble, the attitudes of them being very graceful, grave, diversified, and adornec after a A'cry becoming fashion. No man ever paintec landscai)c with so great a manner, so good a colouring, am with such a resemblance of nature." Zanetti ''assigns hini the first rank in design among all the most distinguishec colourists, asserting that he was much devoted to the study of anatomy, and copying from the best antique." In his ])ortraits he centres the chief power in the eyes, the nose, and the mouth, leaving the remaining parts in a kind of pleasing uncertainty, extremely favourable to the spirit of the heads, and to the whole effect. It is said to have been his favourite opinion, that who- ever aspires to become a painter must make himself familiar with three colours, and have them ready upon his palette. I . r- ! TITIAN 6i I period, andj : well to state I :, and serene lea of nature, i consciousness j ice so grateful He reposes in | •ession of life] into his pic- villages, and' iced into hisj s one of the He designed Lorgione. His delicate. He , the attitudes I, and adorned i ever painted colouring, and i " assigns him t distinguished xl to the study le." er in the eyes, ning parts in a ourable to the nion, that who himself familiar ! :)on his palette. ^hese are : white, red, and black. Titian was aware that red )rings objects nearer to the eye, that yellow retains the rays )f light, that azure is a shade, and adapted for deep obscure. Two of Titian's finest pictures are, the Assumption of \he Virgin, in the Academy at Venice, and the Death of "^dcr Martyr, formerly in the church of San Giovanni e i*aolo, Venice, but, alas ! no longer in existence. The Xssuviption of the Virgin formed the altar piece in the fhurch of the Frari. Mr Phillips, R.A., says of it : — " In lis picture Titian has employed the whole power of his )alette, from its brightest and purest light to its richest and ieepest tone. The composition divides itself into three j:ompartments of unequal size ; the largest in the centre, inhere is the subject of it — the Blessed Virgin, Her action Is grand and devout, her character maternal, the arrange- ment of her drapery such as to produce a full and fine form. It is a glorious work ; its power of colour is immense, ir beyond that even of any other picture of Titian that I lave seen ; and it is painted with great bravura. I wish I puld say more of its sentiment, but that is a quality to irhich it can lay but little claim." In the Death of Peter Martyr, the saint is looking up to ^eaven in expectation of death. His sufferings are seen lost in the furious spring of the murderer, with sword in md ready to strike, and in the terrified action of the fisciple endeavouring to escape. The landscape — the bor- fer of a dark horrific wood, with fine clouds, and the lountains seen behind in bright twilight — is one of Titian's ivariably masterly scenes. Sir Charles Eastlake says : — " The majority of critics have )ng placed this picture in the highest rank of excellence." i \\\ I \ I n \f ! !' [ il ,l(i ff 1' I i' 6a TITIAN And Algarotti adds : — " This is a picture which the best masters have agreed in pronouncing * free from every shade of defect.'" This picture represents the martyrdom of tlie saint, who was murdered in 1252, and canonised by the Romish Church thirteen years after his death. It has generally been considered Titian's finest picture, and called the third picture in the world, ranking next after the Transfigura- tion of Raphael, and the Communion of Saint Jerome, by Domcnichino. A melancholy interest attaches to this noble painting. In a visit to Venice, in 1858, I saw this picture for the first time. On entering the church of San Giovanni e Paolo, I found that the picture had been removed from its usual place, and I supposed had been taken from the church ; but on entering one of the side chapels, I came unexpectedly upon it, standing on the ground, and removed from its frame. I cannot soon forget the delight of that discovery, or the striking scene which met my eye in all its grandeur; and I remember hurrying from the chapel to call the rest of our party to join in admiring the glorious surprise. In 187 1, in again visiting the church of San Giovanni e Paolo at Venice, it was with deep regret I found that part of the church had been destroyed by fire in 1868, and that Art had sustained an irreparable loss, the picture having perished in the flames. The figures in this j)icture were larger than life, in order to preserve the effect when seen over the altar by the spectator at some distance below. In the year 1543, when Titian was 66 years of age, he painted his famous picture, the Ecce Homo, now in the Imperial Gallery, Belvedere, at Vienna. In it, he has S. "^ ik \ TITIAN 63 introduced portraits of the Emperor Charles V., in armour ; of Sultan Solyman ; of his friend Aretino, as Pilate ; and of himself. This noble masteri)iece was originally in the collection of the Duke of IJuckingham, in England, where it was considered the gem of the gallery. It was purchased at Antwerp, when the collection of that nobleman was sold there, in 1648. By some it has been said this picture belonged to Charles I. of England, and that it was sold by Cromwell. Pilate is clad in a Roman dress (blue), with a sword at his side, and his head uncovered, as if he had just come outside, and he is standing at the top of a flight of steps. Christ is standing at his side, his head encircled with a crown of thorns, the blood trickling down his face and breast, holding a reed in his hand. A soldier stands at his side with his hand on Christ's arm, whose hands are crossed and bound together. On the steps leading up to Pilate, there arc several soldiers standing, and there are also two soldiers, or cavaliers, on horseback, one wearing a turban. Many other figures, and priests and rabbis are introduced into this picture, and Pilate is pointing to Christ, and looking towards the crowd, who are raising their arms and shouting out. Titian has chosen the nineteenth chapter of Jolin, fifth and sixth verses, for his study. — " Then came Jesus fortli, wearing the crown of thorns, and the purple robe. And Pilate saith unto them, ' BcJiold the Man P When the chief priests therefore and officers saw him, they cried out, saying, * Crucify Jiim^ ' Crucify him.'' " In 1546, Titian was invited to Rome by the Cardinal Farnese, and repaired to that city accordingly. Michael Angelo, having gone to look at one of Titian's ntt < fi IN > t m M : ^ f' 64 TITIAN pictures, " declared that the manner and colouring of the artist pleased him greatly, but that it was a pity the Venetians did not study drawing more, for if this artist," said he, " had been aided by art and knowledge of design, as he is by nature, he would have produced works which none could surpass, more especially in imitating life, seeing that he has a fine genius, and a graceful animated manner." And this seems to be the general opinion of most critics, the greatest contest which they have among themselves relating to design. By Mengs he is denied the title to rank among good designers ; considering him an artist of ordinary taste, by no means familiar with, however well he might, if he pleased, have succeeded in the study of the anticjue, pos- sessing so very exact an eye in copying objects from nature. The judgment; formed of him by Tintoretto, though placed in competition with him, was less severe, viz., " that Titian had produced some things which it was impossible to surpass, but that others might have been more correctly designed." Titian left Rome enriched by many gifts. He then visited Florence, where he was amazed at the sight of the fine works in that city, no less than he had been by those at Rome. He again returned to Venice, where the portraits he painted were so numerous, that it would be almost impossible to make a record of them all. He may be considered as the finest portrait painter of all times. He was not content with giving his subjects all that was grand and characteristic in style ; he also gave them the appear- ance of dignified ease. He seems to have taken them at the happiest moment, and thus has left us the true con- ception of the old Venetian, by the side of whom all modem gentlemen look poor and small. Ji: \l \ II •n" TITIAN 65 manner. In depicting the female form, in every shape and manner, he greatly excelled; and his children and angels are like life itself. I know of no more beautiful examples than the Vams, in the Tribune of the Uffizi Gallery at Florence \ the Venus crowned with flo7vers by Cupid ^ Dresden Gallery ; the Flora, in the Uffizi Gallery at Florence ; and Sacred and Profane Lore, in the Borghese Gallery, Rome. The Venus, in the Uffizi, is thought to vie with that of the celebrated statue, the Medici herself, the most exquisite triumph of Grecian art. In Sacred and Profane Love, two female forms are seated on the edge of a sarcophagus-shaped fountain. The one in a rich Venetian costume, with gloves, flowers in her hands, and a plucked rose beside her, is in deep meditation, as if resolving some difficult question. The other is unclothed ; a red drapery is falling behind her, while she exhibits a form of the utmost beauty and delicacy; she is turning towards the other figure with the sweetest persuasiveness of expression. A cupid is playing in the fountain; in the distance is a rich glowing landscape. Vasari states, that in the year 1566, when in Venice, he went to visit Titian, and found him, though then very old (nearly ninety years of age), still with the pencils in his hand, and painting busily — in fact, by his great industry, he adorned not only Venice, or rather all Italy, but other parts of the world with excellent paintings. His latest work, not quite completed by himself, was a Pieta, or dead Christ lying in the lap of the Virgin, attended by the Magdalene and Saint Jerome. It is now in the Academy at Venice, and shows certainly that his hand trembled beneath the weight of ninety and nine years 3 but J i \ \ \ ■j ■ i i I il 1. i' 66 TITIAN the conception of the subject is animated and striking, the colours still glowing. Titian, unlike Raphael, never cared to give instruction to students, and had in consecjuence formed few scholars, but had many imitators. One of his best students was Paris Bor- done. He, however, only remained with him a few years, as he had perceived that he had little disposition to instruct his disciples, even though entreated by them to do so, and en- couraged thereto by the patience and good conduct of the young men. How different to Raphael, who delighted to be surrounded by students, and did everything in his power to benefit and instruct them ! As is customary with old age, he was not aware of his failing power, and continued to receive commissions until the final year of his life. It has been related of him, that having been told by some one, that one of his pictures was not, or at least appeared not to have been executed by his hand, he was so much irritated, '^hat in a fit of indignation he affixed to 'he following words, " Tizianus fecit, fecit." He was so happy in the constitution of his body, that he had never been sick till the year 1576, and then he died of the plague at the great age of ninety-nine. It is deplorable to know that, when he was struck by the i:>lague, then devastating the city, and lay breathing his last sighs, a l^ody of ruffians, rendered bold by impunity, and by the dispersion of the magistrates, who were flying in their dread Cii that fearful pestilence, burst into his chamber, all un- watched by friend or servant, and carried off, not jewels and rich furniture only, but even those pictures so highly val-ed that Titian had refused to part with them at any price. And thus mournfully died one so long the favourite TITIAN 67 of fortune ! Not even a menial to close his eyes — dread of contagion had caused all to take flight, and the master was left to expire alone. He was buried in the church of Sainta Maria Gloriosa de Frari, in Venice, near the second altar on the right hand on entering the church. Until recently, a plain slab marked the spot where his body was laid, l)ut a magnificent marble monument, with bas reliefs of his finest pictures carved upon it, was erected to his memor}', a few years ago, at the sole expense of the present Emperor of Austria. Titian left behind him two sons and a brother. His eldest son, Pomponio, was a clergyman, and well i)referred. His youngest, Horatio, was an artist, and almost rivalled his father in some of his portraits ; but laid aside his pencil, and tried to discover the philosopher's stone. In doing this he wasted his fortune, and died of the plague in the same year as his father. Francesco Vecelli, Titian's brother, was trained to arms in the Italian wars ; but peace being restored, he afterwards applied himself to painting. He became so great a proficient in it, that Titian grew jealous of him ; and, fearing lest in time he should eclipse his reputation, sent him upon pretended business to Ferdi- j nand, king of the Romans. Afterwards, he fell into another [profession, and made cabinets of ebony adorned with figures \ which, however, did not hinder him from painting, now and [then, a portrait for a friend. Venice in Titian's time was at the height of its glory IS a great republic, the frst maritime and commercial |power of the world, and one of the finest cities in |Europe. In his studio might be seen the great senators id nobles of the land, and distinguished persons from } ■ N ' 68 TITIAN almost every part of the world. Here the grand old master, dressed in his flowing robes, trimmed with fur, wearing his gold collar and order of knighthood conferred upon him by the Emperor Charles V., received in princely style his friends and admirers. Alas ! how changed the scene, now— *' In Venice, Tasso's echoes are no more, And silent rows the songless gondolier ; Iler palaces are crumbling to the shore, And music meets not always now the ear. Those days are gone — but beauty still is here. States fall, arts fade — but Nature doth not die ; Nor yet forget how Venice once was dear, The pleasant place of all festivity, The revel of the earth, the masque of Italy !" i ,1 \ i \ \ U\. \ (Id master, •earing his upon him \f style his ine, now— LECTURE III. OIORGIO BARHARELLI, JACOPO PALMA, SEBASTIANO LUCIANO, JACOPO R015USTI, AND PAOLO CAGLIARI In my lecture on Raphael and Titian, I of course confined my remarks regarding Venetian art to the works of the latter of those great painters. I have now to bring under Ij your notice the lives and works of five great Venetians, wlio were all contemporaries of Titian, and, with the ex- cejjtion of Giorgionc, of each other. " Venetian art," says Fuseli, " slowly emerging from barbarity — even then, indeed, canvas instead of panels was used by the Venetian painter ; but their general vehicle was a tempera^ prepared water- colour, a method approaching the breadth of fresco, and friendly to the preservation of tints, which even now retain their virgin purity, but unfriendly to union and mellowness. It was reserved for the real cj^och of oil painting to de- veloi)e the Venetian character, display its varieties, and establisli its peculiar prerogative." We are told by Lanzi, that "it was only subsequent to the year 1300 that the names united to the ] productions of the Venetians began to make themselves manifest, when, partly by the examples held out by Giotto, partly by their own assiduity and talent, the painters of the city and of the V M \i it < I: ' I S,l I t II 70 GIORGIONE State visibly improved, and softened the harshness of their manner." Passing over Padovano, we come to the period when, Lanzi says : — " The splendour of Venetian painting becomes more strikingly manifest in the fifteenth centurj^, a period that was gradually preparing the way for the grand manner of the Giorgioni and the Titians," Andrea da Murano introduced the art into the house of the Vivarini, his compatriots, who, in a continued line of succession, preserved the school of Murano for nearly a century, and who produced a rich harvest of their labours in Venice. These masters were succeeded by Gentile da Fabriano, Donato, and Crivelli, and followed by Giovanni Bellini and his brother. Gentile, the former the master of Giorgione, Titian, and Sebastiano del Piombo. Giorgione was born the same year as Titian, but he died at the early age of thirty-three. He was a contemporar}' of Palma Vecchio and Sebastiano del Piombo, but died -"e year before Tintoretto was born, and seventeen years before the birth of Paul Veronese. Palma Vecchio was supposed to be born five years later than Sebastiano del Piombo, but he lived twenty years after the birth of Paul Veronese. Tintoretto was born sixteen years before Paul Veronese, but he survived that great artist six years. Of these great names, Giorgione, Palma Vecchio, Sebastiano del Piombo, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese, three have been included by Ruskin in that glorious band whom he calls the seven supreme colourists of the world, viz., Giorgione, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese. And, in speaking of the two latter on another occasion, he says :— " I should be afraid of offending the reader if I were to GIORGIONE 71 of their )d when, becomes ci period manner house of i line of nearly a labours :;ntile da jiovanni laster of he died :)oraiy of ■".e year ^fore the ars later ars after sixteen ;at artist /"ecchio, eronese, LIS band \ world, \nd, in says :— tvere to define to him accurately the kind and degree of awe with which I have stood before Tintoretto's Adoration of the Ma^i^ at Venice, and Veronese's Marriage in Cana, in the Louvre." "The school of Venice," says Kiigler, "con- tinued to flourish and to retain a real and vital originality for a much longer period than any other school in Italy. This superiority is to be attributed, on the one hand, to certain favourable external circumstances, and, on the other, to the healthful principle of the school, viz., the study and imitation of Nature," But even in Venice those great names we have men- tioned were soon to disappear, and their successors, with feebler powers, were destined to bring that bright and glowing scliool into comparative obscurity. Mengs, a sen- sible writer and clever critic, has said that, " in Venice, after the great men, Giorgione, Titian, Paolo, and Tin- toretto, painting decayed at once, because the successors regarded only ease, without searching the fundaments and excellence of these, and that which is generally called taste has remained as the sole object of that school." " Italia ! O Italia ! thou who hast The fatal gift of beauty, which became A funeral dower of present woes and past, On thy sweet brow is sorrow ploughed by shame, And Annals graved in characters of flame. Giorgio Barbarelli, commonly called, from his large and handsome stature, Giorgione, was born of parents in good circumstances at Castelfranco, in the territory of Treviso, in 1477) the same year in which Titian was born. Ruskin thus eloquently apostrophises him : — " Born half-way be- 72 GIORGIONE <■ '' ;f ! : !i !! i' I tween the mountains and the sea, that young George of Castelfranco — of the Brave Castle — stout George they called him, George of Georges, so goodly a boy he was — Giorgione. Have you ever thought what a world his eyes opened on- fair, searching eye of youth ? What a world of mighty life from those mountain roots to the shore — of loveliest life, when he went down, yet so young, to the marble city, and became himself as a fiery heart to it ! " Vasari says : — " He was at a later period called Giorgione, as well from the character of his person as for the exaltation of his mind. He was of extremely humble origin, but was nevertheless very pleasing in manner and most estimable in character through the whole course of his life." " Brought up in Venice, he took no small delight in love passages, and in the sound of the lute, to which he was so cordially devoted, and which he practised so constantly that he played and sung with the most exquisite perfection, insomuch that he was for this cause frequently invited to musical assemblies and festivals by the most distinguished personages." He entered at an early age the school of Giovanni Bellini, in which he was a fellow-student with Titian. Vasari says :— " He selected the art of design, which he greatly loved, as his profession, and was therein so highly favoured by Nature that he gave his whole heart to her beauties ; nor would he ever represent any object in his works which he had not copied from the life." His progress was so rapid as to awaken the envy of his master. He acquired his manner from the works of Leonardo da Vinci; "but," as Lanzi says, "impelled by a spirit conscious of its own powers, he despised that min- uteness in the art which yet remained to be exploded, at once . ■'\ GIORGIONE 73 jcorgc of ley called ^iorgione. ncd on— liglity life ilicst life, city, and }iorgione, exaltation , but was imable in lit in love ic was so ;onstantly erfection, nvitecl to inguished li Eellini, 1 says :— loved, as »y Nature A'ould he had not o awaken from the impelled that min- I, at once substituting for it a certain freedom and audacity of manner, in which the perfection of painting consists. In this view, he may be said to be an inventor \ no artist before his time having acquired that mastery of his pencil, so hardy and determined in its strokes, and producing such an effect in the distance. From that period he continued to ennoble his manner, rendering the contours more round and ample, the fore-shortenings more new, the expression of the coun- tenance more warm and lively, as well as the motions of his figures. His drapery, with all the other accessories of the art, became more select, the gradations of the different colours more soft and natural, and his chiaroscuro more powerful and effective." Giorgione and Titian spent much of their youth together, and the influence of each on the mind of the other is per- ceptible in their works. Their modes of colouring w'cre, however, different. Giorgione's glowed with pure scarlet light, whilst Titian's shone with deep purple and gold. Ruskin says : — " To colour perfectly is the rarest and most precious (technical) power an artist can possess. There have l)een only seven supreme colourists among the true painters wliosc works exist, namely, — Giorgione, Titian, Veronese, Tintoretto, Correggio, Reynolds, and Turner." And again, in speaking of Giorgione and Turner, he ex- claims, in a burst of admiration — " Vain beauty, yet not all in vain. Unlike in birth, how like in their labour, and their power over the future, these masters of England and Venice — Turner and Giorgione ! But ten years ago, I saw the last traces of the greatest works of Giorgione, yet glowing like a scarlet cloud, on the Fondaco de Tcdeschi ; and though that scarlet cloud may, indeed, melt away into T 74 GIORGIONE ii -\ -\ \ il ! I ; I i;i* paleness of night, and Venice herself waste from her islands, as a wreath of wind-driven foam fades from their reedy beach, tliat which she won of faithful light and truth shall never i)ass away. Dciphobe of the sea — the Sun God measures her immutability to her by its sand." Raphael Mengs says : — " Giorgione gave to colouring the greatest vivacity, which his predecessors had not done." And again : — " At the same time, Giorgione, who was a litde anterior to Titian, founded a school of painting at Venice, which school made great progress from the opportunities they had of painting great Facades and Saloons." In his youth, Giorgione painted in Venice many very beautiful pictures of the Virgin, with numerous portraits from nature — which, Vasari says, " are most life-like and beautiful.'' One of these pictures represents David, which, according to common report, is a portrait of the master himself: he has long hair reaching to his shoulders, as was the custom of that time, and the colouring is so fresh and animating, that the face appears to be rather real, than painted : the breast is covered with armour, as is the arm, with which he holds the head of Goliath. There is a similar picture to this, of David with the head of Goliath, in the Gallery of the Belvedere at Vienna. He painted many other admirable portraits, which are disjiersed through various parts of Italy, among others, that of Leonardo I.oredano, painted at the time he was Doge. He also was fond of fresco painting, and among other works of this kind undertaken by him, was, Vasari says, " one for the Soranzo Palace, which is situated on the Piazza di San Paolo." It is related that Giorgione being in conversation with 111' il GIORGIONE 75 certain sculptors, at the time when Andrea del Vcrroccliio was cn^Mged with his bronze horse, these artists maintained that, since sculpture was capable of exhibiting various aspects of one sole figure, from the fact that the specta- tor can walk round it, so it must, on this account, be acknowledged to surpass painting, which could not do more than display a given figure in one particular aspect. Giorgionc, on the contrary, was of opinion that in one picture the painter could disi)lay various aspects without the necessity of walking round his work, and could even display, at one glance, all the different aspects that could be presented l)y the figure of a man, even though the latter should assume several attitudes, a thing which could not be accomplished by sculpture, without comiielling the observer to change his i)lace, so that the work is not j^rescnted at one view, but at different views. He declared, further, that he could execute a single figure in painting in such a manner, as to show the front, back, and profiles of both sides at one and the same time. This assertion astonished his hearers beyond nil measure, but the manner in which Giorgionc accomplished his i)urpose, was as follows : — He painted a nude figure, with its back turned to the spectator, and at the feet of the figure was a limpid stream, wherein the reflection of the front was painted with the utmost exacti- tude. On one side was a highly burnished corslet, of which the figure had divested itself, and wherein the left side was reflected perfectly, every part of the figure being clearly apparent ; and on the other side was a mirror, in which the riglit profile of the nude form was also exhibited. By this beautiful and admirable fancy, Giorgionc desired to prove that painting is, in eflfect, the superior art, requiring T 76 GIORGIONE more talent, and demanding higher effort ; he also shows that it is capable of presenting more at one view than is practicable in sculpture. The work was, indeed, greatly commended and admired, as both ingenious and beautiful. Kiigler says, he " treated art with freedom, and handled his colours in a bold decided manner. His paintings generally have a luminous power and subdued internal glow, the sternness of which forms a singular contrast to the repose which prevails without. They may be said to represent an elevated race of beings, capable of the noblest and grandest efforts ; this is more especially observable in Giorgione's portraits and characteristic ideal heads." Some of his most beautiful portraits are in the Manfrini Gallery, in Venice. One represents, half-length, some noble cavalier and a lady attended by a young page ; and the beautiful female figure is said to be a portrait of Titian's favourite. La Violante, Palma Vecchio's daughter. Another represents a lady with a lute. There are several works by Giorgione in the Pitti Palace, and the Uffizi Gallery at Florence ; two in the National Galleiy, London ; and his own portrait in the Munich Gallery, which Kiigler calls " excellent," and " full of im- passioned feeling, with a peculiar melancholy in the dark glowing eyes." His portrait of Caterina, Queen of Cyprus, from life, is excellent. It was formerly in the possession of Giovanni Cornaro. There is a beautiful portrait of the same lady, by Titian, in the Uffizi Gallery at Florence. There are also pictures in the Louvre, in Lord Ashburton's collection, at Castle Howard, in the Museum at Cambridge, at Chatsworth, and Lowther Castle, but on the whole, his works are rare ; and the frescoes, which he painted in GIORGIONE 77 Venice, have disappeared. His historical pictures arc the rarest of all. There is one in the Dresden Gallery, Jacob greeting Rachel, which Kiiglcr calls ''of a graceful i)astoral character." Another, a Nymph pursued by a Satyr" is in the Pitti Palace; and St Peter Martyr, in the National Gallery, is " scarcely considered genuine " by Kiigler. There is a beautiful picture in the Brcra, in Milan, which has been considered one of Giorgione's best works, but has also been called a " Bonifazio," and so marked in the catalogue. The subject is the Finding of Moses. All the figures are in the rich Venetian costume of Giorgione's time. Kiigler says: — "It is a picture in which the highest earthly splendour and enjoyment are brought together, and the incident from Scripture only gives it a more pleasing interest. This picture, with all its glow of colour, is softer in the execution than earlier works of the master, and reminds us of Titian, the more successful rival of Giorgione." There is also in the Brera, St Sebastian, considered Giorgione's chef d^o^tivre; it was formerly in the Archi- episcopal Gallery. Ruskin says : — " Giorgione's landscape is inventive and solemn, but owing to the rarity, even of his nominal works, I dare not speak of it in general terms. It is certainly conventional, and is rather, I imagine, to be studied for its colour and its motives, than its details." Du Fresnoy observes of his portraits, that " he dressed his figures wonderfully well ; and it may be truly said, that but for him, Titian would never have attained that perfec- tion, which was the consequence of the rivalship and jealousy which prevailed between them." Vasari says: — "He fell in love with a lady, w^ho returned his IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) & // A ^ (/. /•A 1.0 I.I s If Ilia t lis, 12.0 1-25 i 1.4 1.6 V] <^ /^ /^. °% > y /^ iV L1>^ ^\ *% v >s^« C^'. «> s> 78 GIORGIONE affections with equal warmth, and they were immeasurably devoted to each other. But in the year 1 5 1 1 it happened that the lady was attacked by the plague, when Giorgione, aware of this circumstance, and continuing his accustomed visits, was also infected by the disease, and also with so much violence that in a very short time he passed to another life. This event happened in the thirty-fourth year of his age; not without extreme grief on the part of his many friends, to whom he was endeared by his excellent qualities." Other accounts say that there is no mention of any plague prevailing at Venice in 151 1. And according to Ridolfi, the death of Giorgione was caused by despair at the infidelity of the lady alluded to, and the ingratitude of his disciple, Pietro Luzzo, of Feltre, called Zarotto, or Morto da Feltro, by whom her affections had been estranged from him. Lanzi gives a much more deplorable account of the causes which led to the death of Giorgione, but we would fain hope that the more senti- mental cause was the correct one, and that the great painter did, indeed, die of grief, or virtuous indignation, at the loss of a chaste mistress. Some authorities say that Giorgione was not handsome, but that his countenance gave evidence of calm earnest thought, and true warm feeling. "The dark glowing eyes," in his portrait in the Munich Gallery, have a melancholy expression ; and it has been remarked, that even in his most brilliant paintings there are shades of deep sadness, which Mrs Jameson calls " prophecies of sorrow." Vasari, in speaking of his death, says : — " Amidst these regrets there was, however, the consolation of knowing that Giorgione had left behind him two worthy disciples and GIORGIONE 79 excellent masters in Sebastiano, a Venetian, who was after- wards a Monk of the Piombo in Rome, and Titian del Cadore, who not only equalled, but even surpassed him greatly." This is a mistake. Titian was not the disciple of Giorgione, but his fellow-student under Bellini, and subsequently his follower in the new manner. But it may fairly be assumed, that Giorgione, had he lived, might have disputed the palm of excellence with Titian himself, seeing what he had accom- plished at the early age of thirty-three. De Piles remarks, "that it is a matter of wonder to consider how, all of a sudden, he soared from the low and dry manner of Bellini's colouring to the supreme height to which he raised that lovely part of painting, by joining extreme force with extreme sweetness." His untimely death prevented his acquiring so extensive a celebrity as Titian did; but, as Phillipps observes, "in the race of rivalship between these extraordinary artists, it seems probable, had Giorgione's life been prolonged, he might have surpassed Titian in splendour and vivacity, both of colour and of execution." By frequent experiments, Giorgione made himself the greatest colourist of the time, and it is said, Titian, who had been his fellow-student under Bellini, worked under him to obtain the secret of his art, but that Giorgione discovered his purpose, and immediately dismissed him. Giorgione died in 151 1, at the early age of thirty-four. His most distinguished scholar was Sebastiano del Piombo, of whom we shall presently have occasion to speak. t - 8o PALMA VECCHIO Jacopo Palma, usually called Palma Vecchio, to distin- guish him from his nephew, Jacopo Antonio Palma, also a painter, though inferior to his uncle, was bom at Serinalta, near Bergamo, but went to Venice in his early youth, and entered the school of Titian, whose delicacy of touch and softness of colouring he imitated with much success. He also copied the vivacity of colour and breadth of shade of Giorgione in his greatest performances. The date of his birth has been rendered uncertain by the mistakes of various authors, who confounded the elder and the younger Palma. La Comte has fixed the date of his birth at 1540, but there are reasons for supposing that this period is much too late. Lanzi, in speaking of this, says : — " In such arrangement, the critic seems neither to have paid attention to the style of Jacopo, still retaining some traces of the antique, nor to the authority of Ridolfi, who makes him the master of Bonifazio, any more than to Vasari's testimony, in the work published in 1568, declaring him to have died several years before that period in Venice." Mrs Jameson conjectures that he was bom between 1500 and 1 5 1 5 ; but, from his intimacy with Titian, and the devotion of the latter to his daughter Violante, and his having originally followed the style of Bellini, the master both of Giorgione and Titian, I am inclined to believe that he was bom much about the time of, or perhaps a few years later, than those great artists, with both of whom he was intimate, and of whose styles he was a successful imitator. In addition to this, Lanzi states that "one of his pieces, representing our Saviour, along with several saints, and dated 15 14, which I have myself seen at Milan, appears to have been altogether formed upon the PALMA VECCHIO 8i model of Giorgione. If I mistake not, it is a juvenile production, and when compared with some others, which I saw at Bergamo, very indifferent in its forms." This is, I think, conclusive of his having been bom several years before 1500. His works are much esteemed for the noble taste of their composition, the natural and pleasing expression, the grace- ful airs of the heads, the union and harmony of colouring, and the delicacy of finishing. Kiigler says of him : — "Though he never equalled the latter (Giorgione) in thorough rendering of nature, yet he pos- sesses a no less intense feeling for life, with a mild sweetness, which often recalls Titian's enchanting forms." Vasari varies in his account of Palma Vecchio. His first opinion of this great artist is greatly modified by his subsequent views, which may have arisen from the fierce attacks made on him, and the castigation he received at the hands of certain critics among his compatriots. He says: — "Although not particularly remarkable, or to be accounted among those of the first excellence in painting, he did, nevertheless, complete his works with much care and exactitude. He was so zealous in his endeavours, and so patient in his endurance of labour, that his paintings, if not all good, have at least a portion of good, seeing that they present a very faithful imitation of life and natural forms. " The works of Palma are more to be commended for the hannony and softness of their colouring, and for the patience with which they are executed, than for any great force of design, for he did certainly handle the colours with infinite grace, and with the utmost delicacy." In speaking of a picture in Venice, Vasari says : — " In a r M 89 FALMA VECCHIO word, Jacopo Palma deserves the highest commendation for this work, and well merits to be numbered among those who may be called Masters of the Art, and who possess the faculty of giving expression in painting to their most recondite thoughts." And again, after a long discussion about the mode of executing a work by artists, he concludes by saying : — " But Jacopo, on the contrary, kei)t himself always well and firmly to his purpose, bringing his first thought and intention by due degrees to its perfection, and for this he then was, and ever will be, very highly extolled." This opinion of Palma Vecchio's works is more in harmony with that of Ridolfi, Zanetti, Tassi, and others, than that implied by the first paragraph quoted ; and Vasari, in again alluding to Palma, is even more complimentary. He says : — " But although the works of this Master are numerous, and all merit to be held in esteem, yet the best of all, and a very surprising production is, without doubt, the portrait of himself, which he took with the assistance of a mirror. He is clothed in a robe of camel's hair, and there are locks of hair hanging about his head, which are so natural that better could not possibly be imagined. Among other things to be observed in this portrait, is a living glance and turning of the eyes, exhibited in such a manner that Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo Buonarroti could have produced nothing better." One of his principal works is an altar-piece in seven divisions, St Barbara, with the palm branch, being in the centre, at St Maria Formosa, Venice. Kiigler says of it : — "A figure of such devotion and grandeur of repose as Venetian art has seldom produced." And Lanzi, in speaking of his PALMA VECCHIO 83 being much attached to the method of Giorgione, says : — "In his celebrated picture of Saint Barbara, at St Maria Formosa, one of his most powerful and characteristic productions, Jacopo more especially adopted him as his model." The picture in the Academy of Venice, Christ and tJie Widow of Nain, is a fine example of this master. Kiigler says of it: — "The miracle performed on the son of the widow of Nain, in the Academy, is also of the best time of the master. The mother and son, and the eager, agitated disciples, are excellent in expression : the Christ, however, is inferior, although approaching the type of Giovanni Bellini : the colour is of the greatest glow and beauty." There are many of his pictures in Venice, particularly in the Manfrini Palace ; and others are to be met with in most of the public galleries in Europe. The National Gallery of England does not, however, possess one of this artist's works. St Jerome interceding with tJie Virgin for Two Devotees, in the Museum at Naples, is full of vigour, and bright with beautiful colouring. The Gallery at Dresden is graced with six of P alma's pictures. The Virgin a?td Infant Jesus and John, the Baptist is excellent, and a Venus is particularly beautiful. Two other splendid pictures, of the same subject — one by Titian, the other by Guido — are placed near this picture. They are all beautiful, and marvels of art, contrasting most favourably with each other. The Supper at Emmaus, in the Pitti Palace, Florence, is considered one of his happiest efforts. It is much in the style of Titian. Lanzi says of It :— " In some of his other pieces, he more nearly ap- proaches Titian, a resemblance, we are told by Ridolfi, 84 PALMA VECCHIO consisting in the peculiar grace which he acquired from studying the earliest productions of that great master. Ot this kind is the Supper of Christ, painted for Santa Maria Mater Domini, with the Virgin, at San Stefano di Vicenza, executed with so much sweetness of expression, as to be esteemed one of his happiest productions." There is also a beautiful Holy Family, in the Pitti Pair 3. The Adoration of the Magi, with St Helen, in the Brera, at Milan, is considered one of his most remarkable and original in idea. Lanzi says of it : — " Finally, Zanetti is of opinion that in some others he displays a more original genius, as exemplified in the Epiphany of the Island of St Helena^ where he equally shines in the character of a naturalist, who selects well, who carefully disposes his draperies, and who composes according to good rules. The distinguishing character, then, of his pieces is diligence, refinement, and a harmony of tints, so great as to leave no traces of the pencil ; and it has been observed by one of his historians, that he long occupied himself in the production of each piece, and frequently retouched it." In the Imperial Gallery, at Vienna, there are several fine pictures, particularly St John the Baptist, The Virgin and Infant Jesus, Portrait of a Yoimg Venetian Lady, and another of the same. Lanzi says : — " It is the opinion of some, that in several of his countenances, he expressed the likeness of his daughter Violante, very nearly related to Titian, and a portrait of whom, by the hand of her father, was to be seen in the gallery of Sera, a Florentine gentlemen, who purchased at Venice many rarities for the House of the Medici, as well as for himself." There is a charming portrait of his daughter Violante, in PALMA VECCHIO 85 the Gallery, at Berlin : a picture much in Titian's style, and so much resembling in feature and expression that of Titian's famous Flora^ in the Uffizi Gallery at Florence, as to give rise to the supposition that the latter is a portrait of Violante. At Berlin there is another good picture by Palma, the Portrait of the Doge Priuli. There are two pictures of this master in the Gallery at Munich, but neither deserving notice. In the Uffizi Gallery at Florence there is a very good picture, Portrait of a Geometrician ; in the Borghese Palace at Rome, Madonna and Saints; and in the Colonna Palace at Rome, St Peter presenting a donatario to the Madonna and Child — both good pictures. Palma Vecchio had three daughters of remarkable beauty. Violante, the eldest and most beautiful, to whom we have already alluded, is said to have been loved by Titian, and to be the original of some of his most exquisite female portraits. We have the three daughters of Palma, painted by himself, in the Vienna Gallery. One, a most lovely creature, with long light brown hair, and a violet in her bosom, is without doubt Titian's Violante — so says Mrs Jameson. Palma Vecchio must unquestionably be considered a great master of art, partaking largely of the splendour of Giorgione and Titian, with whom he must ever be associated as a noble Venetian colourist. His death, like his birth, is involved in doubt, but the most common supposition is that he died in the year 1548. Sebastiano Luciano, sometimes styled Sebastiano Venez- iano, but more generally known as Fra Sebastiano del — -I — 86 SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO ; I Piombo, from his office of the Papal signet, or keeper of the seals attached to the Papal Bulls, they being at that time of lead (piombo), was bom in Venice in the year 1485. He was originally a musician, but having a decided taste for painting, he became the pupil of Giovanni Bellini, then an old man, whose fame was on the decline, before the rising genius of his great pupils, Giorgione and Titian ; but when the former brought into Venice the newer manner, with its superior harmony and increased vividness of colour- ing, Sebastiano left Bellini to place himself with Giorgione. He acquired his manner to a considerable degree, and executed numerous portraits from life in Venice. Vasari says, that in addition to being a singer, "he delighted to perform on various instruments, but more especially on the lute, that being an instrument which permits the player to take all the parts himself, without requiring any one to accompany him. His accomplish- ments in this matter rendered him for a time exceedingly acceptable to the nobles of Venice, with whom, as a man of ability, he ever lived in confidential intercourse." He was invited to Rome, about the year 15 12, by Agostino Chigi, a very rich merchant of Siena, who had frequent communications with Venice, and who had heard of his fame in Rome. The musical talents and agreeable conversation of Sebastiano were equally pleasing to Agos- tino, and he had no difficulty in persuading him to remove to Rome, where he was employed in painting and decorating Agostino's palace. Michael Angelo being greatly pleased with the grace and beauty of his colouring, took him into his protection, and aided him by making designs for his pictures. SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO 87 Vasari states that Michael Angelo encouraged a rivalship between Scbastiano and Raphael, for the purpose of lessen- ing the fome of the latter artist, and in order to oppose the too favourable opinion entertained by the Romans of Raphael. However, whatever the motive or object, it failed entirely, and only, if that were possible, added greater renown to the Prince of Painters. Vasari says : — " Michael Angelo prepared the designs and drawings, which Scbastiano painted, thus giving the latter the benefit of his great taste." And speaking of the Trans- iiguratioii, by Raphael, adds : — " Scbastiano executed one at the same time and the same size, almost in rivalry of Raphael — the subject being a resurrection of Lazarus, after he had been in the grave four days. This also was painted with the utmost care, under the directions, and in some parts with the design, of Michael Angelo. These pictures being finished, were probably displayed together in the Hall of the Consistory : they were both very highly extolled, and although the works of Raphael had no equal for their extraordinary grace and beauty, the labours of Scbastiano, nevertheless, found honourable acknowledgment and were commended by all." One of these pictures was sent by Cardinal de Medici to his episcopal residence at Narbonne in France. It is now in the National Gallery, London. Raphael's Traiisfiguration is now in the Vatican. Kiigler says : — In Rome, he (Scbastiano) entered into a close intimacy with Michael Angelo, painted much from his cartoons, and departing, even in his independent works, from the Venetian manner, adopted much of Michael Angelo's mode of composition. In this way was produced the celebrated picture of the Raising of Lazarus^ ,'l • i I' I I 88 SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO in the National Gallery at London, painted in rivalry of Raphael's Transfiguration, Michael Angelo supplying parts of the drawing, viz., the group of Lazarus and those busied around him (according to Waagen, Michael Angelo designed the whole composition). It is a copious composition, not very remarkable for general keeping, but with great beauty in parts. In the figure of Lazarus, who is gazing upwards at Christ, while at the same time he endeavours to disen- gage himself from the bandages, the expression of returning life is wonderfully given. The Christ himself, a noble form, is pointing with his right hand to heaven, while the miracle just performed is told in the grandest way in the various expressions of the bystanders. The execution is of the greatest solidity, and the colouring still deep and full." Puseli thus speaks on the same subject : — " With this mighty talent, however, Michael Angelo seems not to have been acquainted, but by that unaccountable weakness incident to the greatest powers, and the severe remembrancer of their vanity, he became the superintendent and assistant-tutor of the Venetian Sebastiano, and of Daniel Ricciarelii, of Vol- terra; the first of whom, with an exquisite eye for individual, had no sense for ideal colour, whilst the other rendered great diligence and much anatomical erudition useless by meagreness of line and sterility of ideas. How far Michael Angelo succeeded in initiating either in his principle, the far- famed picture of the resuscitation of Lazarus, by the first, once in the cathedral at Narbonne ; and the fresco of the Descent from the Cross, in the Church of La Trinita del Monte, at Rome, by the second, sufficiently evince — pictures which combine the most heterogeneous principles. The group of Lazarus in Sebastiano del Piombo's, and that of SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO 89 the women with the figure of Christ, in Daniel RicciarcUi's, not only breathe the sublime conception that inspired, but the master-hand that shaped them : ohsprings of Michael Angelo himself, models of expression, style and breadth, they cast on all the rest an air of inferiority, and only serve to prove the incongruity of partnership between unequal powers." Sebastiano is particularly eminent in his portraits, A very beautiful one of Cardinal Pole is in the Her- mitage at St Petersburg, which was formerly attributed to Raphael ; and Vasari says : — " The likeness of Mar- cantonio Colonna, which is well done that it seems to be alive, as well as those of Ferdinando, Marquis of Pescara and of t'le Signora Vittoria Colonna, which are most beautiful." He also took the portraits of Pope Adrian VI, Cardinal Hinchfort, and the Florentine Anton Fran- cesco degli Albizzi. " Sebastiano did certainly surpass all others in tlie painting of portraits ; in that branch of art no one has ever equalled the delicacy and excellence of his work, and all Florence was amazed at this portrait of Anton Francesco." His portrait of Pietro Aretino was considered excellent; it is still in the public Palace of Arezzo; and his most celebrated one of Andrea Doria, which is admirable, is now in the Doria Pamphili Palace at Rome. He was appointed by Pope Clement VH to the office of the seal, which he held, also under Clement's suc- cessor, Paul in., until his death, and thereupon assumed the habit of a monk, as it was necessary that the holder of that office should be an ecclesiastic, a matter of no great difficulty, seeing that the holy calling by no means m 90 SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO \ ^1 gave evidence of a holy life at that period. This liberality of Clement by rewarding Scbastiano too largely, who had previously served him as an excellent painter, was a temp- tation to Sebastiano to become most idle and negligent, and though he had previously when poor laboured continually, he no sooner obtained what sufficed for his wants, than he passed his time in a totally different manner. Michael Angelo was in Florence when Sebastiano obtained the appointment, and he therefore wrote to inform him of it. " If you were to see me," he says, " as an honourable lord, you would laugh at me. I am the finest ecclesiastic in all Rome. Such a thing had never come into my mind. But God be praised in eternity I He seemed especially to have thus decreed it, and therefore so be it." Vasari says : — " Fra Sebastiano had a tolerably good house which he had built for himself near the Porta del Popolo at Rome, and there he lived in the utmost content without troubling himself further about painting or working in any way. ' It is a great fatigue,' he would often remark, * to expose one's self in age to the necessity of restraining those ardours which artists are induced to excite in them- selves by the desire for honour, by emulation, and by the love of gain, although this might be endured in youth.' And he would add that it was quite as prudent to seek the quiet of life as to consume one's days in labour and discomfort, in the hope of leaving a name after one's death, seeing that the labours thus endured, with the works which were the result of them, would alike come to an end at some time, sooner or later, be they what they might. And as he would say these things, so also would he practice and put them in execution to the utmost of his power, seeking the SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO 91 best wines and the most inviting meats that could be found for his table, and even thinking more of the enjoyments of life than of art." Sebastiano, as may be supposed, from the sentiments expressed in the foregoing extract, was not a steady worker, and his w^orks are not numerous. There are three of his pictures in the National Gallery, London. One already alluded to, the Resurrection of Lazarus, considered his master})iece ; the others are LLz's own Portrait and that of Cardinal Lppolito de Medici, a very fine picture ; and a Portrait of a Lady as St Agatha. In the Pitti Palace, at Florence, there are the Martyrdom of St Agatha, and a very good Portrait of a Man. In the Uffizi Gallery at Florence, there is the Portrait of a JFarrior. In the Belvedere Gallery, Vienna, Portrait of a Young Man ; and in the Munich Gallery, St Nicholas with St John Baptist and St Philip, Y>^\niQA in 1530 for Agostino Chigi. There are several pictures in the Berlin Gallery, Portrait of the Poet Arctino, Male Portrait, and Christ mourned by Joseph and Mary. And there is a very beautiful picture in the Museum at Naples — a Holy Family, in which the Virgin is represented covering the infant Saviour with a veil. The face of the Virgin is very fine, and the expression could not be sur- passed ; it is most natural. Sebastiano was of a jovial disposition, fond of society, and could write Tuscan verse in an excellent and jesting manner, and with great humour. And it w^as said of him : — " A better or more agreeable companion than himself, of a truth, there never lived." " Being reproached by certain persons," says Vasari, " who declared it to be a shameful thing that he would no longer work, because he had sufficient to live on, 92 SEBASTIANO DEL PIOMBO Fra Sebastiano replied in this manner, * Nay, since I have enough to support me, I will not work : there are geniuses now in the world, who do more in two months than I used to do in two years ; I think, indeed, that if I live much longer, I shall find that everything has been painted which it is possible to paint, and since these good people are doing so much, it is upon the whole well that there is one who is content to do nothing, to the end that they may have all the more to do.' Being finally brought to a state wherein he would neither work nor do any other thing, but just attend his office as Frate del Piornbo, and give himself good cheer, Fra Sebastiano fell sick of a most violent fever, and being of very full habit, the disorder attained to such a height that in a few days he resigned his soul to God. Having made a will, he commanded that his remains should be carried to the tomb without any ceremony of priests or friars, nor would he have any expenses incurred for lights, but ordered that the amount which would have been thus expended should be distributed to the poor, for the love of God ; and so was it done." He died at Rome in the month of June, of the year 1547, in the sixty-second year of his age, and was buried in the church of St Maria del Popolo, founded, it is supposed, by Paschal II. in 1099, on the spot where the ashes of Nero are said to have been discovered and scattered to the winds. Jacopo Robusti was son of Battista Robusti, and was born in Venice in 1512. His father was a dyer, and from that circumstance he acquired the name by which he is universally known, Tintoretto, " the liuie dyer." Vasari speaks of him as a person " who is a great lover TINTORETTO 93 of all the arts, and more particularly delights in playing on various musical instruments ; he is besides a very agreeable person, which is proved in all his modes of proceeding; but as to the matter of painting, he may be said to possess the most singular, capricious, and determined hand, with the boldest, most extravagant, and obstinate brain that has ever yet belonged to the domain of that art." He may be said to have been a self taught artist, for he had only been a few days in the studio of Titian, when he was dismissed by that master, because he would in no wise give obedience to his commands — a highly probable reason, the character of the disciple considered ; yet there are not wanting those who affirm, that the great artist was jealous of his pupil, which must be considered improbable, considering that Titian was then over fifty years of age, and at the height of his fame. However, whatever the cause, the rebuff appears only to have added vigour to the young painter's energies ; he commenced a course of great application, depending on his own resources. He procured casts from the antique, and studied the works of Michael Angelo, devoting the day to painting, and the night to drawing from casts. He professed " to draw like Michael Angelo, and to colour like Titian, and wrote the following line on the wall of his studio : — " II disegno di Michel Angelo ; il colorito di Tiziano." He undertook every commission which offered itself, and frequently executed large works for the mere price of the materials. Kiigler calls him "one of the most vigorous painters that the history of art exhibits; one who sought, . n 94 TINTORETTO I t rather than avoided the greatest difficulties, a!id who possessed a true feeUng for animation and grandeur." Nothing could surpass the fertility of his conception, and the quickness of his execution. An extraordinary proof of these qualities appeared in a conference of artists of the confraternity of St Roch at Venice, who were to make designs for the apotheosis of the Saint in the ceiling of their hall. Instead of a sketch, he produced a finished picture, which was approved and fixed in its place, before the others had finished their sketches. This circumstance gave him the title of " II Furioso Tintoretto." But this want of study was a fatal error, and prevented his attaining the highest place in his profession. He is most unequal; in some of his pictures there often appear the grossest faults, in close proximity to the highest excellence. He would often paint a picture almost equal to Titian, and sometimes produced others which justified Titian's taunt when he designated him a " dauber." His manner was bold, with lights opposed by deep shadows; his pencil remarkably firm and free; and his touch lively and full of spirit. His persevering labour eventually procured him a high position among the painters of Venice, and before he was forty years of age, he became the acknowledged rival of Titian himself Tintoretto's portraits invariably belong to the better class of his works. " Here," Kiigler says, " his conception is free, and even grand, and generally combined with a pure and more careful execution." Three admirable portraits are in the Museum at Berlin, and that of a bald headed man with a beard is in the Louvre. Several are in English galleries ; among these, two Dukes of Ferrara, with servants TINTORETTO 95 and pages offering up their devotions in a cliurch, in the collection at Castle Howard. There are also other pictures at Castle Howard, and in the gallery of the Duke of Sutherland, London. Among his most esteemed works are the Mb-ade of the Siavc, formerly in the school of St Mark, but now removed to the Louvre, and the Resurrection in the school of St Roch. On the other hand specimens of Tintoretto's most corrupt style may be seen in two enormous pictures, — a Last Judpncnt^ and the Adoration of the Golden Calf in St Maria dell 'Orto ; and in a Last Supper in St Trovaso. " Nothing," says Kiiglcr, " more utterly derogatory both to the dignity of art and to the nature of the subject can be imagined than the tr'^atment of the Last Supper. St John is seen, with folded arms, fast asleep, whilst others of the Apostles, with the most burlesque gestures, are asking. Lord ! is it I ? Another Apostle is uncovering a dish which stands on the floor, without remarking that a cat has stolen in and is eating from it. A second is reaching towards a flask ; a beggar sits by, eating. Attendants, with page and maid-servant, fill up the picture. To judge from an o^'erthrown chair, the revel seems to have been of the lowest description. It is strange that a painter should venture on such a representation of this subject scarcely a hundred years after the creation of Leonardo da Vinci's Last Supper." Another of his extraordinary pictures is that of Paradise^ in the Doge's palace, Venice. It is 74 feet long, and 30 feet high, painted in oil, on the wall of the greater Council chamber, now the library, and contains an innumerable and unpleasant throng of human figures, each group appar- ently alike distant from the eye, and therefore in no way 96 TINTORETTO i if \ ,! ) nH' distinct or standing out from the rest. Kiigler says :— " Many of the figures, however, display much skill ; and those of Christ and the Virgin are fine and dignified." In speaking of Tintoretto, Fuseli says : — " Let us select from Tintoretto's most extensive work, the Scola of St Rocco, the most extensive composition, and his acknow- ledged masterpiece, the Crucifixion^ and compare its tone with that of Rubens and of Rembrandt for the same subject. What impression feels he, who for the first time casts a glance on the immense scenery of that work? a whole whose numberless parts are connected by a lowering, mournful minacious tone. A general fearful silence hushes all around the central figure of the Saviour suspended on the cross. His fainting mother, and a group of male and female mourners at His foot : — a group of colours that less imitate than rival nature, and tinged by grief itself; a scale of tones for which even Titian offers to me no parallel ; yet all equally overcast by the lurid tone that stains the whole, and like a meteor hangs in the sickly air. Whatever inequality or derelictions of feeling, what- ever improprieties of common place, of local and antique costume, the master's rapidity admitted to fill his space, and they are great, all vanish in the power which compresses them into a single point, and we do not detect them till we recover from our terror." Fuseli goes on to say: — "The Resiwrcction of Christ and the Massacre of the Innocents comprehend every charm by which chiaroscuro fascinates its votaries. In the Vision, dewy dawn melts into deep but pellucid shade, itself rent or reflected by celestial splendour and angelic hues ; whilst in the Infant Massacre at Bethlehem, alternate sheets of I! ri \ m ?* i: TINTORETTO 97 stormy light and agitated gloom dash horror on the astonished eye." Ruskin has taken Tintoretto into special favour. That able, but sometimes partial and prejudiced, critic says : — " All landscape grandeur vanishes before that of Titian and Tintoret ; and this is true of whatever these tvvo giants touched. I conceive him (Tintoretto) to be the most powerful painter whom the world has seen, and that he was prevented from being also the most perfect, partly by untoward circumstances in his position and education, partly by the very fulness and impetuosity of his own mind, partly by the want of religious feeling and its accompanying perception of beauty." His description of the great picture, the Massacre of the Innocents^ is very graphic : — " The scene is in the outer vestibule of a palace; the slippery marble floor is fearfully barred across by sanguine shadows, so that our eyes seem to become bloodshot and strained with strange horror and deadly vision; a lake of life before them, like the burning view of the doomed Moabite on the water that came by the way of Edom; a huge flight of stairs, without parapet, descends on the left; down this rush a rrowd of women, mixed with the murderers; the child in the arms of one has been seized by the limbs, she hurls herself over the edge, and falls head downmost, dragging the child out of the grasp by her weight; she will be d shed dead in a second ; two others are farther in flight, they reach the edge of a deep river, the water is beat into a hollow by the force of their plunge ; close to us is the great struggle — a heap of the mothers entangled in one mortal writhe with each other and the swords, one of the murderers flashed do^vn and 98 TINTORETTO crushed beneath them, the sword of another caught by the blade, and dragged at by a woman's naked hand; the youngest and fairest of the women, her child just torn away from a death grasp, and clasped to her breast with the grip of a steel vice, falls backwards helplessly over the heap, right on the sword points : — all knit together and hurled do^vn in one hopeless, frenzied, furious abandonment of body and soul in the effort to save. " Their shrieks ring in our ears till the marble seems rending around us; but far back, at the bottom of the stairs, there is something in the shadow like a heap of clothes. It is a woman sitting quiet — quite quiet — still as any stone ; she looks down steadfastly on her dead child, laid along on the floor before her, and her hand is pressed softly upon her brow. This, to my mind, is the only imaginative, that is, the only true, real, heartfelt representation of the being and actuality of the subject in existence. I should exhaust the patience of the reader if I were to dwell at length on the various stupendous developments of the imagination of Tintoretto in the Scuola di San Rocco alone." Tintoretto was an indefatigable student. He was frequently in the habit of designing his models by lamp light, the better to obtain strong shades, and thus acquired skill in the use of a bold chiaroscuro ; and, to acquire a perfect acquaintance with foreshortening, he suspended figures in the air, placing them in a variety of positions, and designing them from different points of view. He also attended to the study of anatomy, by which he obtained a thorough knowledge of the muscles, and the structure of the human frame. Fuseli thus sums up the character of his pictures:— " Purity of style and ruthless manners, bravura of hand with TINTORETTO 99 mental derelection ; celestial or palpitating hues tacked to clayey, raw, or frigid masses ; a despotism of chiaroscuro, which sometimes exalts, sometimes eclipses, often absorbs subject and actors. Such is the catalogue of beauties and defects which characterise the Slave delivered by St MarCy the Body of the Saint Landed, the Visitation of the Virgin^ the Massacre of the Innocents, Christ tempted in the Desert, the Miraculous Feeding of the Croiud, the Resurrection of the Saviour, and though last, first, that prodigy which in itself sums up the whole of Tintoretto, and by its anomaly equals or suipasses the most legitimate offsprings of art, the Crucifixion" Sebastiano del Piombo said that Tintoretto could paint as much in two days as would occupy him two years ; and the Venetians used to say, in allusion to the great inequality of his productions, that he had three pencils : one of gold, one of silver, and a third of iron. But Annibale Carracci was even happier in his criticism when he said, "If he was sometimes equal to Titian, he was often inferior to Tintoretto." His paintings are numerous, and met with in all great collections, but he can be best studied in Venice, where most of his great works remain. In the academy there, there are thirty of his paintings, many of great ability, particularly the Portrait of Antonio Capello, Portrait of two Senators, the Descent from the Cross, and several fine por- traits. The Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, Vienna, is very rich in works of Tintoretto, there being no less than twenty- six of his pictures, many of them very fine, particularly Por- trait of the Doge da Porte, Portrait of Doge Francis Erizzo, Susannah at the Bath, and Portrait of a Young Man. At least sixty of his pictures have been engraved. 100 TINTORETTO Tintoretto died at Venice on the 19th of May 1594, aged 82. He left a son, Domenico, who died in 1637. His daughter, Marietta, who was educated under her father, acquired a fine taste in painting, and was much employed by the Venetian nobility in painting portraits. She received invitations from several foreign courts, but could not be tempted to quit her father. She died in 1590, at the age of 30, to the great grief of her father, to whom she had been a constant companion, consoling him, it is said, for the scolding temper of his wife, Faustina, who used often to get into a rage at the careless, spendthrift disposition of her husband. Tintoretto's house was on the quay of the Campo dei Mori, near the church of La Madonna dell'Orto, where he was buried, and which still contains several of his pictures. Paolo Cagliari, or Caliari of Verona, surnamed Veronese, from his birth place, was bom in 1528. He was taught the rudiments of his profession by his father, Gabriele Caliari, a sculptor at Verona, but he evinced such a strong love for painting, that his father was induced to place him with his uncle, Antonio Badile, under whom he made astonish- ing progress. After executing several pictures at Verona, Mantua, and other places in the neighbourhood, by which he acquired considerable reputation, he removed to Venice, and formed his style, particularly in colouring, after Titian. He did not equal that master in the perfection of his flesh tones, but by splendour of colour, rich draperies, and other materials, by a transparent treatment of the shadows, and by great harmony, he " infused," Kiigler says, " a magic into his pictures which surpasses almost all the other masters of the Venetian school." ! 1)1 PAOLO VERONESE 101 " Nor had the pomp of colour been so exalted, so glori- fied, as in his works ; his paintings are like full concerts of enchanting music. This, his peculiar quality, is most de- cidedly and grandly developed in scenes o^ worldly splen- dour; he loved to paint festive subjects for the refectories ot rich convents, suggested of course from particular passages in the Scriptures, but treated with the greatest freedom, especially as regards the costume, which is always that of the artist's time." Lanzi says : — " His genius was naturally noble, and even magnificent and vast, as well as pleasing; and no provincial city was capable of supplying him with ideas proportionate to his genius, like Venice. There he aimed at improving his style of colouring, upon the models of Titian and Tintoretto, as well as to surpass them, as it would appear, in elegance and variety of ornament. Hence his pupils were accustomed to say, that at that time he devoted himself to the study of casts taken from ancient statues, to the engravings of Parmigiano, and to those of Albert Diirer." After a few years' residence at Venice, he visited Rome about the year 1563, in the suite of Girolamo Grimani, Venetian ambassador to the Papal Court. He soon, how- ever, returned, and was invited by Philip II. to Spain, to assist in decorating the Escurial; but he declined the invitation, on account of his numerous engagements at Venice. Vasari gives a very short account of Paul Veronese, but it is supposed that the great abundance of good artists at that time in Verona, renders it highly probable that Cagliari had not then been able to make it evident that he possessed the 109 FAOZO VERONESE right to more distinction than that author has awarded to him. He says : — " The painter Paulino is also a Veronese; he is now in good repute at Venice ; and this artist also, although in like manner not more than 30 years old, has performed many commendable works. Born in Verona, Paulino was the son of a carver in stone, or as they say in that country, a stone cutter, and having accjuired the prin- ciples of painting from the Veronese, Giovanni Caroto, he painted in fresco the hall of the paymaster Portiseo at Tiene, in the Vicentino, in company with the above named Battista, with whom he subsequently executed numerous works at the Soranza, all of which show good design, a fine judgment, and a beautiful manner." He also mentions some of his works in San Nazzaro, in the Doge's Palace, Venice, in the church of San Sebastiano, and then relates the following story: — "The procurators of San Marco commissioned the best painters in Venice, among others Paul, to paint certain medallions in the ceiling of the Nicene library, and promised a prize of honour, over and above the price agreed on, to him who should best acquit himself. Being completed, and after all the pictures had been well examined, a golden chain was placed around the neck of Paulino, he, by the opinion of all, being ad- judged to have done the best. The picture, which obtained him this victory and prize of honour, was that wherein he has represented Music : here are depicted three young and very beautiful women; one, the most beautiful of all, is playing on the bass viol, her eyes cast down, being fixed on the handle of the instrument, and her attitude clearly shows that her ear and voice are intently following the sound ; of the other two, one is playing a lute, and the other sings from ../•■i^fatifiMMf^iUi ■•k«.jri»*Mw^'"(wdnfr< PAOLO VERONESE 103 a book. Near these figures is a cupid without wings, playing on a harpsichord, to signify that love is awakened by music, or that love is ever the companion of music ; and the artist has made him without wings, to show that he never parts from her. " Two other pictures were painted by Paulino in the same place, in one of which Arithmetic, accompanied by Philos- ophers, dressed after the manner of the ancients; in the other is Honour, to whom, she being seated, sacrifices are offered and royal crowns presented. But as this young man is just now in the best of his activity, and has not yet attained his thirty-second year, I will say nothing more at present respect- ing him." Of the earlier pictures of Paul Veronese, not many are known. The church of St Sebastiano at Venice, where he lies buried, contains the best specimens of his historical pictures. In this church are three very large pictures repre- senting the death of St Sebastian, executed 1 560-1 565, with the greatest care, and with great brightness of colouring. The first of them represents the saint going to the place of martyr- dom. The scene is upon a flight of steps before a house; St Sebastian, a fine powerful figure, is hastening down, while at the same time he turns to his fellow sufferers, Marcus and Marcellinus, who follow him, and points upward with an in- spired look. Kiigler says: — "This picture displays a beauty of composi- tion, a richness without an overcrowding of subject, and a power of expression and colour, which, in some respects, entitles it to be considered the noblest of Paul Veronese's works." The two other pictures represent St Sebastian pierced with arrows, and stretched upon the rock. The saint bound 104 PAOLO VERONESE to a column, is looking towards heaven, where the Madonna appears, accompanied by beautiful angels. Next the saint, two beautiful female figures are praying to the heavenly vision, while below them saints are kneeling. Paul Veronese's portraits, which occur but seldom, are of high merit, but his gi-eat reputation rests principally on his gener- ally colossal representations of festive meetings. The most celebrated of these is the Marriage of Cana, in the Louvre, thirty feet wide by twenty feet high, formerly in the refectory of St Giorgio Maggiore at Venice. The scene is a brilliant hall surrounded by majestic columns. The table at which the guests are seated forms three sides of a parallelogram. The guests are supposed to be almost entirely contemporary portraits, so that the figures of Christ and the Virgin, of themselves sufficiently insignificant, entirely dwindle in comparison. Servants with splendid vases are seen in the foreground, with people looking on from raised balustrades, and from the roofs of distant houses. The bride is i'aid to be a portrait of Eleanor of Austria, Queen of France, whilst Charles V., Francis L, the Sultan Achmet II., and Queen Mary of England, all partake of the wedding feast. The most remarkable feature is a group of musicians in the centre in front, round a table, also portraits. Here Veronese has depicted all the great painters who were living in Venice at the close of the sixteenth century. The Octogenarian Titian plays the contra-bass, Bassano the flute, whilst Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese himself, perform upon violoncellos. This great work contains about 120 figures or heads, comprising, as already stated, portraits of many of the most distinguished persons of the time at Venice. For this great picture Paul Veronese only received ninety ducats, PAOLO VERONESE 105 about £,\o sterling. He was of a liberal, generous spirit, and extremely pious. When he painted for churches and convents, he frequently accepted very small prices, some- times merely the value of his canvas and colours. Almost all galleries and collections contain pictures ot this great colourist, but the finest are in the churches at Venice, in the Louvre, in the Dresden Gallery, and in the National Gallery, London, where there are four — two very celebrated, the Adoration of the Magi, or the Wise Men^s Offering, and the Family of Darius at the feet of Alexander, after the battle of Issus, B. C. jjj. At the risk of being tedious, I must refer to some of Paul Veronese's pictures in some of the great national and private galleries in Europe. In the Brera at Milan there are a number, but I only mention three, St Gregory and St feroDte, the Marriage of Cana, and Our Lord ju the Lfouse of Simon the Pharisee. In the Palazzo Brignole Sale at G^no:x, Judith giving the LTead of Holof ernes to a Slave, is a powerful picture ; but the bleeding neck is turned towards the spectators, and is painfully real in appearance. There is also a very good Portrait of a Child. In the Palazzo Balbi, Genoa, the Portrait of a Doge of Venice is striking. In the Palazzo Durazzo, Genoa, there is a good Marriage of St Cathari?ie, and in the Palazzo Colonna, Rome, a fine Male Portrait. The academy of St Luke, at Rome, rejoices in a ver}' fine Susannah, and the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, is rich in par- ticularly fine works. In the Tribune, there is a Holy Family, with St John and St Catharine. In other rooms, St Catharine Kneeling, Esther before Ahasuerus, Portrait of a Man, and ILead of St Paul. The Pitti Palace, Florence, (" io6 PAOLO VERONESE has Portrait of a Woman, Portrait of Daniel Barbaro, and the Presentation in the Temple. In the Munich Gallery there are ten pictures, the best being a Holy Family. There are several pictures in the academy at Venice, one particu- larly grand, Our Saviour at Supper in the house of Levi. This great painting occupies one end of the large room. It must be nearly fifty feet long. The Belvedere Gallery at Vienna contains sixteen pic- tures, in addition to the Death of Quintus Curtius leaping on horseback into the Gulph, on the roof of one of the rooms. The spectator looks at it as if the horse were coming down upon him. The effect is very fine. The most beautiful of the pictures are, Christ and the IVoman of Samaria at Jacob's Well, the Annunciation of the Virgin, Portrait of Marais Antoninus Barbaro, Portrait of Catharine Cornaro, Queen of Cyprus, Judith, and the Death of Lucrctia. Prince Lichtenstein has a good Holy Farnily in his splendid gallery; and in the Royal Gallery at Dresden, there are no less than sixteen of Veronese's pictures, many of them superb, particularly the Adoration of the Magi, the Alarriage 171 Cana, and Susannah at the Bath. In the Royal Galleries at Madrid, there are eight or ten pictures, and there are also many in private collections in England, and on the continent of Europe. I shaT only describe one more picture of Paul Veronese's, an excellent example of the master, and one which may be seen by all visitors to England. I allude to the Family of Darius at the feet of Alexander the Great. This famous picture, now in the National Gallery, was painted for an ancestor of the Count Pisani, and was purchased at Venice from the Count Vittore Pisani in 1857, the price being PAOLO VERONESE 107 ;^i4,ooo sterling. It is stated on authority of the Procura- tore Pisani, that Paul Veronese, having been detained by some accidental circumstance at the Pisani villa at Este, painted this work there, and leaving it in his room, after- wards informed the family that he had left wherewithal to defray the expense of his entertainment. The picture is between fifteen and sixteen feet wide by seven or eight feet high. The grouping is relieved by an architectural screen of white marble, consisting of arches and pillars, surmounted by a balustrade, behind which numerous figures appear contemplating the scene beneath. The conqueror and his circle of attendants occupy the right wing of the composition, while the centre is filled by the captive and kneeling sup- pliants, the mother, wife, and daughter of Darius. Having mistaken Hephaestion for Alexander, the queen mother, Sisygambis, implores pardon of the conqueror for the error into which they have fallen ; but pointing to his friend who stands by his side, Alexander tells Sisygambis there is no mistake, for Hephaestion is another Alexander. Statira, the elder of the two daughters of Darius, kneels behind. She became subsequently the wife of Alexander, but was after- wards put to death by Perdiccas, at the instigation of Roxana, the second Persian wife of Alexander. In the groupwith Alexander and Hephaestion, is Parmenio; and the male figure, with the kneeling captives, represents an aged minister of Darius. On the extreme left appears the upper part of a standing figure, which is supposed to be a portrait of Paul Veronese himself. The principal figures are portraits of the Pisani family, and all are attired in the rich Venetian costume of the sixteenth century. Ruskin, after describing the Veronese Family at Dresden, io8 PAOLO VERONESE the Presentation of the Queen of Shcha at Turin, and a Holy Family at Brussels, thus gracefully alludes to the great painter : — " These instances are enough to explain the general character of the mind of Veronese, capable of tragic power to the utmost, if he chooses to exert it in that direc- tion ; but, by habitual preference, exquisitely graceful and playful ; religious without severity, and winningly noble ; delighting in slight, sweet, every-day incident, but hiding dee]) meanings underneath it ; rarely painting a gloomy subject, and never a base one." Paul Veronese was an upright religious man, who, in his life, appeared to care more for his domestic duties, playing with his little daughters, and instructing his two sons, Carlo and Gabriele, in the study of his profession, than for scenes of grandeur and festivity, such as he depicted, with lavish display, in his gorgeous pictures. He died at Venice 20th April 1588, and a monument was erected to his memory in the church of San Sebastiano by his two sons, and his brother Benedetto Caliari. The tomb consists of a bust, by Matteo Carmero, and the decoration of his arms. But the magnificent pictures over the altars, and hanging on the walls, still retaining their brightness of colouring, are the best monument to his genius ; and we may well repeat the old epitaph : — " My ashes are beneath ; but my spirit yet breathes, and shines everj^where around." I have thus traced out the lives and works of those five great Venetians of the sixteenth century, closing with that of Paul Veronese, the last great Venetian master of that century. — "The spouseless Adriatic mourns her lord ; And, annual marriage now no more renew'd, ' ' PAOLO VERONESE The Bucentaur lies rotting unrestored, Neglected garment of her widowhood ! St Mark yet sees his lion where he stood — Stand, but in mockery of his wither'd power, Over the proud place where an emperor sued, And monarchs gazed and envied in the hour When Venice was a queen with an unequall'd dower. 109 ■,A LECTURE IV. ANDREA VANNUCCHI, GIULIO ROMANO, AND CORREGGIO In previous lectures I have brought under notice several of the great Italians — Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo, Raphael and Titian, and five distinguished Vene- tians, Giorgione, Palma Vecchio, Sebastiano del Piombo, Tintoretto, and Paul Veronese. I now continue my remarks on three remarkable Italian painters of the sixteenth century — Andrea del Sarto, who was remarkable for being the most faultless painter of the Florentines; he was bom only five years later than Raphael, and eleven after Titian. Giulio Romano, the pupil and friend of Raphael, who formed a school of his own at Mantua; he was born nine years later than Raphael, and fifteen after Titian. . Correggio, the founder of the school of Parma, likewise called the Lombard School, which preserved a series of disciples for several generations, so strongly attached to his examples as to bestow no attention upon any other model; he was bom eleven years after Raphael, but survived him fourteen years, seventeen years after Titian, who, however, lived forty-two years after Correggio's decease. Correggio was one of the greatest painters of modern times, and like Raphael, almost his only rival, died early, being only forty years of age. ( i ANDREA DEL SARTO III These three artists were contemporaries, naving been bom within a few years of each other; and they all had the privilege of living in the days of Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo. Their lives will enable us to judge of the state of art in Italy during the period in which they lived, and I shall in a subsequent lecture refer to several great names which appeared later in the sixteenth century, and extending into the seventeenth ; and close with a record of some great masters of the seventeenth century, after which the art decayed and almost died away. This will give a succinct account of the most prominent of the great Italian masters of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, from whom, in a great measure, have flowed the cultivation and knowledge of science and art into nearly all the other countries of Europe. Andrea Vannucchi, was son of Michael Angelo Vannucchi, who was said to have been of Flemish origin, but fled his native land in consequence of an unhappy quarrel. Andrea was born in Florence in 1488, where his father was a tailor, for which cause he was always called Andrea del Sarto. 'Sarto' and 'Sartore' are the Italian equivalents for tailor, — the boy was thus called " The Tailor's Andrew." At a very early age he was taken from school, and placed with a goldsmith; and, while thus employed, was always more willing to occupy himself with drawing than with the use of the tools used by the goldsmith. Giovanni Barile, a painter of no great repute himself, observed the taste displayed by young Andrea in his draw- ings, and induced him to turn his attention to art. After passing three years with Barile, the latter, perceiving that the boy had made wonderful progress, and convinced 112 ANDREA DEL SARTO that he would certainly make an extraordinary painter, spoke to Piero di Cosino about him, who was then considered one of the best masters in Florence. Andrea gave his whole mind to art, and studied without ceasing, and to such purpose, that in a few years he displayed very great talent and ability. Piero conceived a great affection for him, and was greatly pleased with Andrea's assiduity, who never lost an oppor- tunity of studying the cartoons of Michael Angelo, and frescoes of Leonardo da Vinci, and soon surpassed his fellow-students. Having now established a fair reputation for skill in his art, Andrea and his friend, Francia Bigio, determined to commence together as artists on their own account, and accordingly hired a dwelling on the Piazza del Grano, and executed many works in company. They afterwards removed to the Supienza, near the convent of the Nunziata, and here Andrea formed a lasting friendship with Jacopo Sanso- vino, the famous sculptor. It is said that Andrea visited Rome, and is supposed to have studied the works of Raphael, but his general style is more that of Fra Bartolomeo ; and his *' pictures," Kiigler says, " are generally characterized by a more amiable cheerfulness, a childlike innocent gaiety." His works in the cloisters of the Servites procured him the title of Andrea Senza Errori, or Andrea the Fault/ess, and which Lanzi calls " conceptions of graceful countenances, whose smiles remind us of the simplicity and grace of Correggio." He was induced by a monk to undertake these pictures, representing events in the life of San Filippo, and in a short time he had completed three of the stories. m ANDREA DEL SARTO "3 These three were oi)enecl to public view ; they were — San Filippo clothing the naked, after he had taken the monastic habit. Another represents the same saint when he was reproving certain gamesters ; these men, blasi)heming God and scorning the admonition of San Filippo, are making a mockery of his words, when suddenly there falls a lightning flash from heaven, which, striking the tree under which they were seated, kills two of their number. In the third of these liictures San Filippo delivers a woman from evil spirits. Encouraged by the praise he received, he i)ainted two other pictures in the same cloisters. In one, San I^lippo is seen lying dead, with the brethren of his order weeping around him. In the other, he depicted certain monks who arc laying the vestments of San Filippo on the heads of some children. In these pictures he has given the portraits of the sculi>tor, Andrea della Robbia, and his sons, Luca and Ciirolamo. Tliese pictures obtained for Andrea very great honour and fome, and he became so well known that he received commissions for numerous pictures and works of importance. All these works are now secured from injury by the weather by the care of the Grand Duke Leopold II., who caused the cloister to be closed, in the year 1833, by means of glass windows furnished with curtains. The two last pictures arc in excellent preservation. He also executed some frescoes in the Court of the Com- pagnia dello Scalzo at Florence. All the paintings now re- maining are in chiaroscuro, and, with the exception of some allegorical figures, represent the history of St John the Baptist. In the Court of the S. S. Annunziata at Florence, there H 1X4 ANDREA DEL SARTO is another picture by him, painted in 1525, in the lunette over the entrance, the Madonna del Sacco, a simple Holy Family, in M'hich Joseph is represented leaning on a sack. " This," says Kiigler, *' is one of the artist's most celebrated works ; the forms are grand, the composition has an agreeable repose, and the drapery is masterly." Lanzi thus speaks of it: — "But his finest piece is that Holy Family in Repose, which is usually called Madonna del Sacco from the sack of grain on which St Joseph leans, than which few pictures are more celebrated. On examining this picture narrowly, it affords endless scope for observation ; it is finished as if intended for a cal)inet ; every hair is distin- guished, every middle tint lowered with consumate art, each outline marked with admirable variety and grace ; and, amid all this diligence, a facility is conspicuous, that makes the whole appear natural and unconstrained." Andrea continued to paint many beautiful pictures, which " secured him," says Vasari, " so great a name in his native city, that among the many artists, old and young, who were there painting, he was accounted one of the best that handled pencil and colours." He became now tolerably independent in his circum- stances, but having fallen in love with a young woman, whom, on her becoming a widow, he took for his wife, he found that he had enough to do for the remainder of his days, and was subsequently obliged to work much more laboriously than he had previously done. In the first edi- tion of Vasari's works he gives the history of Andrea's mar- riage at great length, and he is a good authority, as, at the time and afterwards, he was a student in his school. He says: — "At that time there was a most beautiful girl in ANDREA DEL SARTO IIS the Via di San Gallo, who was married to a cap maker, and who, though born of a poor and vicious father, carried about her as much pride and haughtiness as beauty and fascination. She dehghted in trapping the hearts of men, and, among others, ensnared the unlucky Andrea, whose immoderate love for her soon caused him to neglect the studies demanded by his art, and in great measure to discontinue the assistance which he had given to his parents." The husband of this woman having died, Andrea married her, much to the annoyance of his friends — " her beauty appear- ing to him to merit thus much at his hands, and his love for her having more influence over him than the glory and honour towards which he had begun to make such hopeful advances. His disciples still remained with him, it is true, in the hope of learning something useful, yet there was not one of them, great or small, who was not maltreated by his wife, both by evil words and dispiteful actions ; none could escape her blows ; but although Andrea lived in the midst of all this torment, he yet accounted it a high pleasure." The name of this beautiful woman was Lucrezia di Baccio del Fede, and she continued, as we shall see, to retain a complete hold over the mind and affections of her husband, even, it is said, making him abandon his own poor father and mother, in order to support her father and sisters. She estranged him from his friends, destroyed his peace of mind, gave him good cause for jealousy it is feared ; and yet — he loved her. Mrs Jameson is very severe in her remarks about Lucrezia. She calls her "a woman of infamous character, who was the wife of a hatter ; and on the death of her hus- band, in spite of her bad reputation and the warnings of 1x6 ANDREA DEL SARTO his friends, he (Andrea) married her. From that hour he never had a (juiet heart, or home, or conscience The avarice and infideHty of his wife added to his sufferings. He continued to paint, liowever, and improved to the last in correctness of style and beauty of colour." Andrea painted a great deal, and his pictures are to he met with in most of the galleries of l^urope, more particu- larly in Florence, where his best easel pictures are to be seen. One, Virgin and Child between St John the J^^angelist and St Francis, m the tribune of the Uffizi gallery, called La Ma- donna di San Francesco, is considered his finest work. Of this, Vasari writes : — "This work is now considered among the best of Andrea's productions, and is indeed one of singular and truly wonderful beauty." There is also a good Portrait of Himself in the Uffizi gallery, and a number of his works in the Pitti Palace, the Descent from tJie Cross, a Holy Family, His own Portrait ; in the Hall of Mars, a Holy Family \ in the Hall of Jupiter, Portrait of Himself and his Wife ; in the Hall of the Iliad, the two Assumptions, both fine pictures placed opposite each other, in one of which he has introduced his own portrait ; and in the Hall of Saturn, the Dispute about the Trinity. Kiigler says : — " This picture is peculiarly fitted to exhibit Andrea's affinity with the Venetian school. This is a Santa Conversazione of six saints. St Augustin is speaking with the highest inspiration of manner; St Uominic is being con- vinced with his reason, St Francis with his heart ; St Lawrence is looking earnestly out of the picture, while St Sebastiano and the Magdalene are kneeling in front listening devoutly. We here find the most admirable contrast of action and expression, combined with the highest beauty of ANDREA DEL SARTO 117 execution, especially of colouring. In this picture his affection and admiration for his wife again ai)pears, for \asari, in alluding to this picture, remarks that, " beneath this group are two figures kneeling, one of whom, a Magda- lene, with most beautiful draperies, is the portrait of Andrea's wife ; indeed he rarely painted the countenance of a woman in any place that he did not avail himself of the features of his wife ; and if at any time he took his model from any other lace, there was always a resemblance to hers in the paintini^, not only because he had this woman constantly before him and depicted her so frequently, but also, and what is still more, because he had her lineaments engraven on his heart ; it thus happens that almost all his female heads have a certain something which recalls that of his wife." In the Royal Gallery at Dresden there are several pictures —the Marriage of St Catherine with the Infant Jesus ; the Sacrifice of Abraham^ painted for Francis I. of France ; and A Dead Christ. In the Berlin Gallery, Portrait of his Wife. In the Museum of Nai)les, in addition to the Portrait of Leo X. with Cardinal Giiilio de Medici, aftenvards Clement VII. , and Cardih'al de Rossi, to which I shall afterwards refer, there is a fine Portrait of Bramante. In the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere at Vienna, there are four of his pictures, the best being a Holy Family, Portrait of an Old Woman, and A Dead Christ. And in the Gallery of Prince Lichten- stein, a good Head of John the Baptist. There are several in Munich, the best being a Holy Family, which much re- sembles that in the Belvedere at Vienna. There are also pictures of this master in Paris and London, and also in a number of the private galleries of /. ii8 ANDREA DEL SARTO I Rome ; particularly a Holy Family in the Palazzo Barberini ; a beautiful Holy Family in the Palazzo Borghese, two very good Holy Families in the Doria Pamphili ; and a very fine Virgin and Child with St John and St Elizabeth^ in the Palazzo Brignole Sale, Genoa. In May 1518, he was invited to visit France by King Francis I., who sent him a sum of money to defray the expense of his journey. On his arrival at the French Court, he was well received by the monarch, who gave him a present of money and very rich vestments. His labours were much esteemed by the king and court ; and Andrea, from having been exceedingly poor, became rich, and in great favour. One of his first works in France was a por- trait of the Dauphin, the son of the King, a child born but a few months previously, and who afterwards became Henry n. When he carried the painting to the king, he received in return three hundred ducats of gold. He also painted a figure of Charity for the king, which was considered an exceedingly beautiful picture. This picture, painted in 1518, or upwards of 350 years ago, is now in the Louvre. From that time the king allowed Andrea a very consider- able annual income, and did everything in his power to induce the artist to remain at his court. But in 15 19 he received letters from his wife, which induced him to think of returning to Florence. His wife had written that "she never ceased to weep, and was in perpetual affliction at his absence;" and assured him, "that if he did not return speedily, he would certainly find her dead." Andrea could not resist this appeal, which Vasari asserts, she dressed all up " with sweet words, well calculated to move the heart of the luckless man, who loved her but too well." \\ I ANDREA DEL SARTO 119 arberini ; two very very fine 'i, in the by King efray the : French gave him labours Andrea, and in IS a por- born but le Henry received )ainted a lered an in 1 5 18, Having obtained the consent of the king, and having had a considerable sum of money given him with which to pur- chase pictures and sculptures for the king, he promised solemnly to return within a few months, and then departed for his native city, where he arrived safely. After remaining a few months there, enjoying the society of his beautiful wife, he found that he had spent, not only his own money, but also that given him by the king for the purpose of purchasing works of art. Nevertheless, he determined to return to France, but again the prayers and tears of the beautiful Lucrezia had more power than his own necessities, or the faith he had pledged to the king, and so he remained in Florence, to the great annoyance of Francis, who declared " that if Andrea ever fell into his hands, he would have no regard whatever to the distinction of his endowments, but would do him more harm than he had before done him good." In the year 1523 the plague appeared in Florence, when Andrea removed to Muzello, where he painted a picture for the nuns of San Piero, of the order of Camaldoli at Luco. His wife, her sister, with a step-daughter, and one of his scholars, accompanied him, and they remained safely with the nuns, from whom they received the greatest kindness. When Federigo II., Duke of Mantua, was passing through Florence on his way to Rome to offer his respects to Pope Clement VII., he saw the Portrait of Pope Leo X., which represents the Pontiff between Cardinal Giulio de Medici and Cardinal de Rossi, and which had formerly been painted by Raphael over a door in the palace of the Medici ; and being greatly delighted with it, begged it as a gift from Pope Clement, who very courteously granted him that favour. ■jl2^^ :i'i^i:^^,f'":' v. 120 ANDREA DEL SARTO 11 Ottaviano de Medici, being unwilling to see Florence de- prived of such a picture, sent for Andrea del Sarto, and desired him to make an exact copy. Andrea made so good a copy, even having copied the spots of dirt as they were seen on the work by Raphael, that it was almost impossible to distinguish the original from the counterfeit, which was sent to Rome — the original having been hidden in Florence. Even Giulio Romano, the disciple of Raphael, was deceived ; and when Vasari discovered to him the cheat, and showed him Andrea del Sarto's name on the edge of the pannel, which was concealed by the frame, he shrugged his shoulders, saying these words — " I esteem it no less than I should do if it were by the hand of Raphael ; nay, rather much more, for it is a most amazing thing that one excellent master should have been capable of imitating the manner of another to such a degree, and should have found it possible to pro- duce a w^ork so exactly similar to the original." The original, by Raphael, is now in the Pitti Palace, Florence ; the copy by Andrea in the Museum at Naples. It was painted about the year 1525. The Neapolitans still maintain that their picture is the original, the one in the Pitti Palace the copy. He painted for Ottaviano de Medici a picture of the Madonfia, which is considered one of the most graceful of the Holy Families by his hand. Seated on the earth, the Madonna is enjoying the sports of the Infant Christ, who is riding on her knees, while he turns his head back to a little St John, the latter supported by his mother, St Elizabeth, an aged woman, painted in an admirable and natural manner. When the picture was completed, Andrea took it to i(««iH|;«iMa-^ite. ... .^_ 122 ANDREA DEL SARTO tery, in the Church of the Annunziata, on the left hand, and beneath the niche wherein is the statue of St Peter. He was aged only forty-two when he died, in 1530, and his wife survived him forty years. Andrea was a favourite, both as an artist and a man, and was of a convivial disposition, having been a member of a jolly society, or club, called the " Company of the Kettle," remarkable for its dinners, to which each member contributed one dish, and was fined if it happened to be the same as his neighbours. Vasari thus sums up his character : — " Andrea del Sarto more particularly had received from nature so graceful and soft a manner in design, with a mode of colouring so life-like and easy, as well in fresco as in oil, that all men were firmly persuaded of the success that must have attended him had he remained in Rome. Nay, there are not wanting those who affirm that he would in that case, without doubt, have surpassed all the artists of his time." Andrea was held in high esteem by Michael Angelo, who once remarked to Raphael : — " There is a bit of a mannikin in Florence, who, if he had chanced to be employed in great undertakings as you have happened to be, would compel you to look well about you." A monument was erected in the year 1606, by a prior ot the Servites, to his memory, with his bust in marble by Giovanni Caccini. Giulio Pippi, or rather de Giannuzzi, commonly called Giulio Romano, was son of Pietro Pippi de Giannuzzi, and was generally supposed to have been born in Rome in 1492, but according to a document discovered at Mantua, in 1498. W1I»W^"»^' !•.'*»«' II GIULIO ROMANO 123 He was the most distinguished pupil of Raphael, and resembles his master more in energy than in delicacy of style. He was of a vigorous, daring spirit, gifted with a freedom of hand which gave life and animation to the bold creations of his fancy. He was particularly successful in subjects of war and battles, which he represented with spirit and correctness. Marco of Ravenna and Agostino Vene- ziano engraved many of the pictures which had been painted by Giulio Romano under the direction of his master, but his modesty would never permit him to have any of his own works engraved during the life-time of Raphael, lest he should seem to be attempting a competition with Raphael himself After the death of Raphael, Marcantonio engraved two combats of horses from his designs, on tolerably large plates, with all the stories of Venus, Apollo, and Hyacinth, which he had painted in the bath constructed at the Vigna of Messer Baldassare Furini, of Pescia. None of the numerous scholars of Raphael followed the footsteps of that great master more closely \ and as long as he painted under Raphael, he not only imitated the master's touch so closely as to deceive many, but adopted, as far as his own taste allowed, something of Raphael's invention. But he wanted the grace and purity of his master ; and when tlie death of Raphael freed him from restraint, he soon displayed a style which retained little of the grace of Raphael, and none of his excellence, except the general features of external form. Lanzi says : — " In his noble style of design, he emulates Michael Angelo, commands the whole mechanism of the human body, and with a masterly hand renders it subservient to all his purposes. His only fault is, that his demonstra- tions of motion are sometimes too violent." 124 GIULIO ROMANO 'i He was greatly beloved by Raphael for his pleasing con- versation, his clieerful and obliging disposition, and was constantly employed by him on works of importance, par- ticularly on those undertaken for Pope Leo X. in the papal loggie. (iiulio executed the Creation of Adam and Eve, that of the Animals^ the Building of Noah's Ark, the Sacrifice, and many other works which are known by the manner. Among others, the Finding of Moses, a work con- sidered admirable for the beauty of the landscape. Giulio also assisted Raphael in painting the Incendio del Borgo, and the Battle betivecn Constantine and Maxentius, in the Sala di Constantino in the Vatican, the drawings for which were executed by Raphael. After Raphael's death, therefore, and when Giulio and Gian Francesco Penni, called II Fattore, being left his heirs, were charged with the office of completing the works commenced by Raphael, it was by Giulio Romano that the greater part of the same were creditably conducted to perfection. During the pontificate of Adrian VI., who had no par- ticular taste for painting or sculpture, and who found the finances in great disorder, in consequence of the profusion of his predecessors, very little aid or encouragment was given to artists ; and, consequently, during his reign GiuHo and his brother artists were almost left to starve. On the accession, however, of Cardinal Giulio de Medici, Clement VII., a new impetus was given to art; and Giulio Romano and others were employed to finish the Hall of Constantine, which he did in fresco : painting the portraits of Popes Damoras I., Alexander I., Leo III., Gregory, Silvester, and some others, Avith their accompanying figures of Religion, Charity, Piety, &c., &c. In another of these pictures, he GIULIO ROMANO 125 has given portraits of himself, his intimate friend Count Baldassare Castiglione, Pontano, Murallo, and others. Giulio's cabinet pictures are rare, and sometimes too free in their subjects. It is stated by Vasari, " that he employed Marcantonio to engrave twenty plates of figures, the character of which was highly offensive ; and what was still worse, Pietro Aretino wrote a most indecent sonnet for each ; inso- much that 1 do not know which was the most revolting — the spectacle presented to the eye by the designs of Giulio, or the affront offered to the ear by the words of Arctine." The work was highly displeasing to Clement VII., who censured it severely \ and if it had not happened that when it was published, Giulio had already left Rome for Mantua, he would certainly have been as heavily punished by the Pontiff as Antonio, who was thrown into jail, and would have lost his life, if the Cardinal de IMedici had not inter- posed. It is sad to find the beloved friend and disciple of the divine Raphael so careless of his good name and reputation, and thus degrading and prostituting, in a way Raphael never did, his pencil and talents to the cause of vice and immorality. Notwithstanding this unfortunate circumstance, he was esteemed the best artist in Italy after the death of Raphael ; and the Count Baldassare Castiglione, ambassador at Rome from Federigo Gonzaga, Duke of Mantua, and Giulio's inti- mate friend, did his utmost to prevail on him to accompany him to Mantua, he having been commanded by the Duke to send him an architect, and observed ♦:hat it would be par- ticularly agreeable to him if he could have Giulio. He agreed to go, provided the permission of the Pope could be obtained, which, fortunately for him, Baldassare secured f-«^' 126 GIULIO ROMANO I" vt w before the offensive engravings by Marcantonio appeared, and he carried Giulio with him to Mantua. Arrived in the birth-place of Virgil, Giulio was presented to the Duke, who, after a kind reception, gave him a house comfortably furnished, and the liberal salary of five hundred gold ducats — a large sum for the period — and also allowed him the expenses of his disciple Benedetto Pagni, and another youth who likewise served him. He also presented Giulio with rich vestments, and one of his favourite horses. Two years after his arrival in Mantua, Giulio received the rights of citizenship in that city, and was afterwards elected to the degree of a noble, on his appointment by the Duke to the office of Vicario di Corte ; and in 1529 he was married to Helena, a daughter of the noble house of Guazzo-Landi, who brought him a dowry of seven hundred gold ducats. Giulio, who was celebrated as an architect as well as a painter, was employed by the Duke in beautifying and en- larging his palaces. The ceilings of one room were decorated with portraits of the most beautiful blood-horses of the Duke's, together with those of his dogs also. All were designed by Giulio, and painted in fresco on the plaster by Benedetto Pagni, and Rinaldo of Mantua, both painters who were his disciples. And Vasari adds : — " And these animals arc in truth so well portrayed that they seem to be alive." In another room the whole surface is divided into four octangular spaces, which surround a painting occupying the highest part of the vaulted ceiling, and representing the marriage of Cupid and Psyche, in the presence of all the gods; Jupiter himself being seen in the summit of the picture, seated in dazzling splendour of celestial light. In the octangles are the principal events in the history ot :'j mf^t ^tm "H^^ GIULIO ROMANO 127 Psyche, with the sufferings which she endured from the anger of Venus. The ceiHng is painted in oil by Benedetto and Rinaldo. The remainder of the pictures, from the history of Psyche, are on the walls beneath, and are painted in fresco ; they are much larger than those on the ceiling. Vasari says : — " In one of these stories is Psyche in the bath; she is surrounded by the Loves, who are gracefully laving her beautiful limbs ; near this is another picture, where, with gestures equally graceful, the Loves are drying the delicate form. In another part of the work is Mercury preparing the banquet while Psyche takes her bath." Few easel pictures by Giulio exist. One of the finest is the Holy Family in the Dresden Gallery, known as Madonna della Catina. This picture was painted for Duke Federigo of Mantua, shortly after the death of Raphael. It is a lovely picture. The Virgin is washing the Infant Christ, who stands upright in a basin, while St John, also a child, is pouring water from a vase. There is another picture in the Dresden Gallery — Pan and the Young Olympus. In the UiBzi Gallery, Florence, there are several pictures — Virgin and Child, Portrait of Cardinal Accalti, and another Virgin and Child. In the Pitti Palace, Florence, there is a Copy of Raphael, Dance of Apollo and the Muses. And in the Museum at Naples there is one of his best works, The Madonna della Gatta, which is frequently marked in photo- graphs and prints as by Raphael, whose pictures it much resembles. In the Royal Gallery of Munich, there is only one of Giulio's pictures, but of great beauty, St John the Baptist, I have found none in Vienna or Venice, and only one in the Palazzo Colonna at Rome, Madonna and Child — a good (■- t I ; 128 GIULIO ROMANO 'I i'. picture. There are pictures in the Louvre, four in the National Gallery, London, others at Hampton Court, but few in England of any great merit. It has been said that the Portrait of Julius II. in the National Gallery, London, which has been considered a Raphael, is really a copy by Giulio Romano, from Raphael's famous pictures of that Pope in the Uffizi and Pitti Galleries, Florence. It is certain that this picture has been repeated several times by Raphael or his scholars. Passavant en- numerates nine repetitions. It may finally be mentioned, to the glory of Giulio Romano, that he finished the great picture of the Trans- figuration, which is considered the master-piece of Raphael, and the first picture in the world, and which that great man lived not to complete. Giulio prepared numerous designs, at different periods, for the city of Mantua; chapels, houses, fronts of palaces, gardens, and many of the frescoes still exist. A description of these frescoes, with plates, was published in 1832. He built for himself a house in Mantua, opposite the church of San Barnaba, the front of which he adorned with coloured stuccoes, and decorated the interior with paintings. Here he arranged the antiquities which he had brought from Rome, and others he had received from the Duke. He produced many designs, both in Mantua and other places, and constructed many buildings of importance ; and he rebuilt the church of San Benedetto in Mantua, a very large and rich edifice, belonging to the Black Friars. Giulio was a man of generous mind ; of very extensive cultivation, profoundly learned in antiquity, well acquainted with the works of the poets, especially Homer, and particu- GIULIO ROMANO 129 larly learned in all that related to medals. He was princely in his style of living, an accomplished courtier, but with dignified manners, which commanded respect. Among the many valuable things which he had in his house, was the likeness of Albert Diirer, drawn from life, on exceedingly fine linen, by Albert Diirer himself, by whom it was sent as a gift to Raphael. After the death of the Duke Federigo, Giulio, who was so deeply grieved that he would have left Mantua, was per- suaded by the Cardinal, the brother of the Duke, on whom the government of the state had devolved, to remain, in order that he might assist him in rebuilding the Cathedral of Mantua. He accordingly remained, and commenced the work of restoration, which was afterwards continued and completed by the Mantuan architect, Giovanni Battista Bertani, who adhered closely to Giulio's plans. On the death of Sangallo, the architect of St Peter's, Rome, that office was offered to Giulio, with a large salary, but the opposition of the Cardinal, and the strong dislike of his wife and her kindred and friends, who discouraged the idea of his removal from Mantua, prevented his accepting it; in addition to which, his health began to be affected, and he died of fever, after fifteen days illness. Vasari hints that the vexation of having to refuse the appointment caused his death; but of this there is no proof. He died at Mantua, on All Saints' day, November i, 1546, in the fifty- fourth year of his age, having amassed great riches in the service of the Duke, leaving a wife and two children. His widow did not long survive him. His son, to whom he had given the name of Raphael, in memory of his 130 GIULIO ROMANO master, and who had scarcely acquired the first principles of art, in which he gave promise of becoming an able master, died young, not many years after the death of his father. His daughter, Virginia, was married to Krcolc Malatesta, and survived her father many years. The death of Giulio Romano caused great grief to all who had known him. He was of middle height, rather firmly than slightly built ; had black hair, a pleasing counte- nance, the eyes dark and cheerful ; of a kindly disposition, and graceful deportment; regular in his life, and frugal in living, but fond of show. Du Fresnoy says of him, " that he had conceptions more extraordinary, more profound, more elevated than even his master, but not so natural. He was wonderful in the choice of attitudes, but did not exactly understand the lights and shades. He is frequently harsh and ungraceful ; the folds of his draperies are neither beautiful, nor great, nor easy, nor natural, but all extravagant, and too like the habits of fantastical comedians." He was buried in San Barnaba-Mantua ; in the reconstruc- tion of which, all trace of this distinguished artist's tomb has disappeared. ''( )i', Antonio Allegri was born in the town of Correggio in the Duchy of Modena. He was son of Pellegrino Allegri, and of Bernardina Piazzoli, called Degli Aromani, but is univer- sally known as Correggio, from the place of his birth. He latinized his name, in signing and on his pictures, into Lseti. His father was a merchant in good circum- stances, but the whole youth of Correggio is involved in obscurity, and even the exact year of his birth is not CORREGGIO 131 kno\\'n, though it is generally supposed to have been in 1493 or 1494. He is supposed to have acquired the rudiments of his art from his paternal uncle, Lorenzo Allegri, and from Antonio Ijartolotti, painters of no great name in Correggio. It is also ascertained that Francesco liianchi, called 11 Frari, belonging to the old Lombard school, was his teacher in Modena, where, also, it appears he acquired the art of modelling in clay. The works of Leonardo da Vinci and his school appear to have exercised a most important influence on him, though only as the preparation for that wonderful manner which he afterwards invented and formed for himself. Some writers, judging from the specimens of his early style, assert that he must have sought instruction in the academy of Andrea Mantegna at Mantua ; but the recently discovered fact of Andrea's having died in 1506 destroys this surmise. He speedily became a most remarkable and excellent artist ; and it is evident, from one of his earliest jDictures, now in the Dresden Gallery, the Madonna Enthroned^ with St Francis, St Anthony, St John the Baptist, and St Catharine, painted about 15 12, when he was only eighteen years of age, that in earliness of excellence he surpassed even Raphael himself, who, in his twentieth year, appears more stiff and constrained in manner. He was instructed in the elements of literature, philosophy, and mathematics, but, as Fuseli remarks, "the brevity of his life, and the sur- prising number of his works, evince that he could not devote much time to literature, and of mathematics, probably contented himself with what related to per- spective and architecture." I i III :! I •' I r ii 132 CORREGGIO About the year 15 18 Correggio was invited to Parma, to paint a saloon in the convent of St Paolo for the Abbess. The subjects, from ancient mythology, which he executed here, are among his most beautiful works. On the principal wall is Diana returning from the chase, in a car drawn by white stags ; the light drapery of the goddess conceals but little of her perfect and youthful form. On the ceiling is painted a Vine Arbour, with sixteen oval openings, in which are charming groups of Genii, some with the attributes of the chase, horns, hounds, the head of a stag, etc. The choice of these subjects for a convent appears strange, but the nuns at that period enjoyed liberty and freedom, now unknown. The paintings remained almost forgotten until about the year 1795, when the duke caused them to be examined, and a dissertation from Padre Offo brought them out of their seclusion. In 1 5 19, Correggio, having acquired considerable reputa- tion in his profession at Parma, and some fortune from his works, married a young lady of Mantua, Girolama Merlini, who had a considerable dowry, and with whom he appears to have enjoyed a quiet domestic happiness, so well suited to his studious, retiring habits. The first great work on which he was employed was the fresco in the cupola of S. Giovanni at Parma. This great work was commenced in 1520. It represents the Ascension of Christ, in the centre of the Cupola ; the twelve apostles, wrapt in adoring wonder, are seated on the clouds below. These works were .finished by Correggio in 1524, and exhibit great grandeur, both in the general arrangement, and in the details. The peculiar mode of Correggio was carried to perfection CORREGGIO 133 in the large frescoes in the cupola of the Duomo at Parma, executed between 1526 and 1530, representing the Assump- tion of the Virgin. All the figures are wonderfully fore- shortened. The principal group of this celebrated picture represents the Virgin borne in triumph by the angelic host, whilst Christ precipitates himself from the clouds to meet her. The whole forms a glorious scene of bewildering life and beauty. " The effect," says Kiigler, " is, however, almost too rich and boundless; all the figures are fore- si lortened, and as more limbs than bodies are visible from below, the artist, even in his lifetime, was jestingly told that he had painted ' a hash of frogs.' " The frescoes of the cathedral were left unfinished by Correggio. He contracted to paint the whole dome and choir for 1000 ducats (about ;^i5o), which must at that period have been equivalent to the value of at least ;2^3ooo at the present day, but he did not complete even the dome ; it was finished by his pupil, Giorgio Gandini. Kiigler says : — " In his compositions all is life and motion, even in subjects that seem to prescribe a solemn repose, such as simple altar-pictures. All his figures express the overflowing consciousness of life, the impulse of love and pleasure; he delights to represent the buoyant glee of childhood — the bliss of earthly, the fervour of heavenly love. Correggio knew how to anatomise light and shade in endless gradations; to give the greatest brilliancy without dazzling, the deepest shade without offending the eye by dull blackness." The question whether Correggio, did or did not, visit Rome has been much contested, but those who maintain that he did not are now in the ascendant. Landi and 134 CORREGGIO Vasari reject the opinion that he visited Rome, but Padre Resto, a great collector of Correggio's works, was the first who opposed their authority. He pretends, in some writing of his own, to have adduced twelve proofs of Correggio's having twice visited Rome, viz., in 1520 and 1530, and on this point, Raphael Mengs, a great authority, says : — " I incline to believe that Correggio went to Rome, where he saw and studied the works of Raphael, and much more those of Buonarroti. I conclude from all this, that although the memoirs of the life of Correggio are so confused and uncertain, one may, nevertheless, be assured that he had the best education, and that he learnt as much as suited his profession ; and that his paintings are productions of a sublime, delicate, and cultivated genius, because every one who knows the art, and is even but superficially informed, must be convinced, that without the aforesaid quality, it was impossible for Correggio to produce such famous works. If he were not rich, he certainly was very generous to paint with so little economy as he did." It is usually related of him, that while studying at Rome, he saw the St Cecilia of Raphael, and, after gazing on it earnestly for some time, exclaimed " Anch'io sono pittore " (I, too, am a painter) ; and from that moment devoted himself with extreme ardour to the art. There is no direct evidence, however, that he ever visited Rome ; and it is not improbable he saw Raphael's St Cecilia while visiting Bologna. To Correggio belongs the great praise of having attained the highest point of perfection in colouring, whether his works were in fresco or oil. He executed various pictures and paintings of different kinds for many nobles of Lombardy. Among others of his CORREGGIO 135 works may be mentioned two painted in Mantua for the Duke Federigo II., who sent them to the Emperor. These works having been seen by Giulio Romano, he declared that he had never beheld colouring executed with equal perfection. One was a nude figure of Leda, the other a Venus, " painted," says Vasari, " with so much softness, and' with shadows so admirably treated, that the carnations did not seem painted, but to be truly living flesh." These pictures, after passing through several hands, came into the possession of the Duke of Orleans, by whose son, Louis, they were much injured, he having cut out the head of Leda, as being of too voluptuous a character. The Leda is now in the Royal Gallery of Berlin, which also possesses lo and the Cloud, and his magnificent Head of Christ with the Crown of Thorns, sometimes called the Picture from the Handkerchief of St Veronica. The legend in the Romish Church is, that while Christ was on his way to Calvary, bearing the Cross, he was observed by Veronica to faint under the weight, and that she took her handkerchief to wipe the perspiration from his face. In doing so, it retained the likeness of our Saviour. Whatever truth there may be in this account, handed down by tradition, the artist has suc- ceeded in producing a noble head of our Saviour. The real and original handkerchief is exhibited to the people at Easter, in St Peter's, Rome. Dresden also possesses the Virgin and Child with St Francis, St Anthony, St John the Baptist, and St Catherine, the Virgin and Child with St George, the Portrait of the Physician of Correggio, and his famous picture, the Adora- tion of the Shepherds, so familiarly known as La Notte, or Night of Correggio, and a masterpiece. The scene is at 7* w fv^^ww^m/mr^m ^IfpjippiJ^ ] 136 CORREGGIO r night, and the light to the picture proceeds entirely from the radiance of the heavenly child, a most unusual, but in this picture, a very successful effort. This picture, which represents the birth-night of the Saviour, was the commis- sion of Alberto Pratonieri, as appears from a writing dated in 1522, though it was not finished till 1527, according to Mengs, or 1530, as Fiorillo surmised, when it was dedicated in the Chapel Pratonieri of St Prospero at Reggio, from whence, in 1640, it was carried to the Gallery of Modena, by order of Duke Francesco I., and from thence at length to Dresden. Sir David Wilkie, who saw it in 1826, during his visit to the continent, thus describes it: — "But the NotteoS. Correggio is what I expected the most from, and the condition of which gives me the greatest disappointment. Yet how beautiful the arrangement ! All the powers of the art are here united to make a perfect work. Here the simplicity of the drawing of the virgin and child is shewn in contrast with the fore-shortening in the groups of angels — the strangest unity of effect with the most perfect cystem of intricacy. The emitting the light from the child is, perhaps, the most bold, as well as the most poetical, idea that the art has ever attempted \ and this, though a supernatural illusion, is in this work eminently successful ; it neither looks forced nor improbable. The light, unlike that of Rembrandt, does not imitate lamp-light; it is meant to be the pale phosphorescent light, as in the Christ in the Garden. The flesh of the virgin and white drapery of the child are principal. The mantle, bright blue ; the bodice, bright lake; and the sleeve, lilac. The colours in the lights and half-tints are chiefly cold, and all the warm tints are in the CORREGGIO 137 shadows, which preserve throughout a rich colour. The least successful part of the picture is the character of the shepherds — inferior to the subject and to Correggio's general run of figures. But this great work, though shorn of its beams from the treatment it has met with, is, in its decay, still not less than an archangel ruined. It is, in idea, the most original and most poetical of all Correggio's works." His Recumbent Magdalen, also in the Dresden Gallery, and so well known from numberless engravings and photo- graphs, is very beautiful. Of this picture, Sir David Wilkie says : — " The face and right arm is one of the finest pieces of painting I have witnessed." And Raphael Mengs, an earlier critic, says: — "This sole image contains all the beauty which can be imagined in painting; for the diligence with which it is executed, the imparting of the colours, the soft- ness, grace, and knowledge in the clare obscure. . . . In short, if the other paintings of Correggio are excellent, this is wonderfully so. The hair of the saint, besides the softness with which it is done, by appearing as if the colours were melted to make it, gives so perfect an idea of what it is, as if the hairs were painted one by one, and have even the lustre of natural hair." In the Royal Gallery of Munich, there are eight of his pictures, some of the finest being, a Holy Family surrounded with Angels and Cherubi?tis, St James and St Jerome, and a Head of an Angel in fresco. In the Tribune of the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, there are three pictures — the Re- pose in Egypt, the Head of Jolm the Baptist in a Charger, and the Virgin and the Infant Jesus. And in the Hall of Saturn in the Pitti Palace, Florence, Head of an Infant. In the Palazzo Borghese, Rome, there is his celebrated 'V> 138 CORREGGIO picture Danae, in excellent preservation, very clear, and with much expression. And in the same city, in the Palazzo Doria Pamphili, cartoon of Glory crowning Valour^ much faded, but the drawing exquisite. In the Museum of Naples there are several: the Zingarella, or Madonna del Com'glio, a small picture. It represents the virgin resting during the flight out of Egypt, with the infant Saviour sleeping in her lap. It is called the Zingarella, or Gypsy, from the peculiar head-dress. The Marriage of St Catharine, a small picture, is full of grace and beauty. The Imperial Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, con- tains six of his pictures, the best being Christ with the Cross and Croiun of Thorns. But Prince Lichtenstein's Gallery, at Vienna, contains one of his master pieces, and the gem of that magnificent collection. Music, and Venus and Cupid asleep. It is peculiarly beautiful and elegant in design. There are several of his pictures in the Louvre, and also in the Royal Gallery at Madrid, and at Parma. The Duke of Wellington possesses Christ on. the Mount of Olives; and in the Stafford House Gallery, there is a picture to which a singular history is attached. The subject is a horse and mule, both laden, with their drivers, in a glowing landscape, executed in a masterly manner. It is said to have been painted as a sign for an inn, when Cor- reggio had no other means of discharging his reckoning. The National Gallery of London is rich in Correggio's, possessing six of his pictures. Two are groups of angels' heads and figures ; the other four are some of his finest works, of which I must give a description. Mercury in- structing Cupid in the presence of Venus is one of his master- pieces. This lovely picture may be considered the gem of CORREGGIO 139 the National Gallery. It is charming in every respect — the colouring and chiaroscuro is magnificent, the composi- tion faultless. The figures are nearly the natural size — Mercury is seated on the ground, endeavouring to teach Cupid his letters; Venus, here represented winged, has taken temporary charge of Cupid's bow, which she holds in her left hand, and appears to be entertained with the spectacle. The flesh tints are wonderfully true to nature. This picture was formerly in the possession of Charles L, who purchased it from the Duke of Mantua in 1630. It was bought, after the dispersion of the king's effects, for ;!^8oo, by the Duke of Alva. It was subsequently the property of the Prince of the Peace, in whose collection it was at the time of the occupation of Madrid by the French, when, in 1808, it fell into the hands of Murat, afterwards King of Naples. Its next owner was the Marquis of Londonderry, who ob- tained it, together with the Ecce Homo, from the ex-Queen of Naples, at Vienna; and both pictures were purchased from the Marquis of Londonderry, in 1834, for the National Gallery. "Christ presented by Pilate to the people," called the Ecce Homo, is exceedingly beautiful. The greater part of the picture is occupied by the figure of our Saviour ; behind whom, to the left, is Pilate, pointing with his right hand to Christ, and uttering the words which give the title to the subject, *' Behold the Man." On the right is seen the head of a Roman soldier ; and in the foreground, to the left, the Virgin Mary is represented in a swoon, supported in the arms of St John. The figures are half length of the natural size. This picture was long in the Colonna Palace, in Rome. k 11 i I 140 CORREGGIO It was purchased from the Colonna Family by Sir Simon Clarke, and after being in the possession of Murat, King of Naples, was acquired, as already mentioned, by the Marc^uis of Londonderry, and sold to the nation in 1834. His " Holy Family," known as La Vierge an Panicr^ is highly praised by Raphael Mengs, and " shows that Cor- reggio was the greatest master of aerial perspective of his time." It was formerly in the royal collection at Madrid, given by Charles IV. to Godoy, Prince of the Peace, and after falling into various hands, was finally purchased for the National Gallery in 1825. Chrisfs Agony in the Garden. The time is night, and our Saviour is lighted directly from heaven, while the angel is illuminated by the light reflected from the Saviour. This picture is a copy or repetition of the original now in possession of the Duke of Wellington, which is said to have been painted by Correggio for an apothecary to whom he owed a few scudi. It was presented by Ferdinand VII. to the Duke of Wellington. The picture in the National Gallery formed part of the Angerstein collection, which was purchased for that Gallery in 1824. Vasari says : — " Of the works of this artist much more might be said, but since everything he has done is held to be something divine among the most eminent masters of our calling, I will not expatiate further. All writers at- tribute a singular mildness of character to Correggio, who was, besides, modest in the extreme, desiring the perfection of the art he loved, more than the plaudits of the multitude for himself" In the famous triumvirate of Raphael, Titian, and Cor- reggio, Mengs accords to Correggio the second rank after CORREGGIO 141 Raphael. He says: — "Raphael chose expression, which he found in composition and design ; Correggio sought the pleasing part, which he found in certain forms, principally, however, in clare obscure ; and lastly, Titian embraced the appearance of truth, which he found in the highest degree of colouring." "Raphael, undoubtedly, is the greatest of the three. After him follows Correggio, because to delight is the second important part of painting ; and since truth is rather a duty than an ornament, Titian is only the third of the order; but all the three are great, because each were in possession of a principal part of painting." And : — "Raphael had the taste of expression, Correggio that of pleasing, and Titian that of truth : each made his choice. . . . From whence it comes that Raphael has sometimes painted as pleasing as Correggio, and with as much truth as Titian. Correggio sometimes almost as well as Raphael, and as true as Titian ; and by turns Titian has designed like Raphael, and pleased like Correggio. . . . From whence one may say, that Raphael was the most estimable, because he possessed the most necessary parts of the art ; Correggio possessed the most amiable and enchanting ; Titian con- tented himself with pure necessity which is the simple imitation of nature. . . . He did not equal the vivacity of Titian, the softness of the pencil of Giorgione, or the delicacy of Vandyke ; but he was great in painting women and children." Ruskin considers Correggio one of the seven supreme colourists of the world, and Fuseli is even more enthusiastic, where he speaks of "the silver purity of Correggio," and adds : — " Another charm was yet wanting to complete the 142 CORREGGIO Fv<' round of art — harmony — it appeared with Antonio Loeti, called Correggio, whose works it attended like an enchanted spirit. , . . The harmony and the grace of Correggio are proverbial. . . . His great organ was chiaroscuro in its most extensive sense. . . . The bland central light of a globe, imperceptibly gliding through lurid demi-tints into rich reflected shades, composes the spell of Correggio, and affects us with the soft emotions of a delicious dream. . . . Since him, no eye has conceived that expanse of harmony with which the voluptuous sensibility of his mind amazed and enchanted all visible nature." . . . And Lanzi, in summing up the character of his works, says : — *' In the impasto, or laying on his colours, he approaches the manner of Giorgione, in their tone he resembles Titian, though, in their various gradations, in the opinion of Mengs, he is even more expert. There prevails likewise in his colouring a clearness of light, a brilliancy rarely to be met Avith in works of others ; the objects appear as if viewed through a glass, and towards evening, when the clearness of other paintings begins to fade with the decay of light, his are to be seen, as it were, in greater vividness, and like phosphoric beams shining through the darkness of the air. Of the kind of varnish, for which Apelles has been so commended by Pliny, we appear to have no idea since the revival of art, or, if indeed, we at all possess it, we must confess our obligations to Correggio. Some there have been who could have liked more deli- cacy in his flesh tints ; but every one must allow, that according to the age and the subjects he had to deal with, he has succeeded in varying them admirably, im- pressing them at the same time with something so soft. CORREGGIO 143 so juicy, and so full of life, as to api^ear like truth itself." Annibale Carracci was so sensible of the beauty and harmony of the ])aintings of Correggio, that, at the first sight of some of his works, he declared, in a letter to his cousin Lodovico, that in comparison with them, the St Cecilia of Raphael appeared to be wooden. The letter is dated Parma, April 18, 1580. " Tibaldi, Niccolino, I would almost say Raphael himself, are not to be com- pared [with Correggio]. The St Jerome, the St Cathen'nc, the Madonna della Scodella, — I would rather have any one of them than the St Cecilia ! How much grander, and at the same time more delicate is St Jerome, than that of St Paul (the figure of Paul in the picture of St Cecilia), which at first appeared to me to be a miracle ; but now I feel as if it were made of wood, it is so hard !" I have thus given copious extracts from various critics to show their opinions of the grace, beauty, and harmony of this great painter, second only to the divine Raphael ; and by some even considered his superior. The photo- graphs of many of his most famous pictures give an excellent idea of the composition and drawing, but fail to convey to the mind the extreme beauty of colouring and wonderful harmony, for which they are so remarkable, Vasari has represented Correggio as a very poor and ill- paid artist, " subjecting himself to severe and continual labours in his art, for the support of his family, which he found an oppressive burthen." And he tells an absurd story about the manner of his death, which he says was said to have been caused by his carrying a large sum of copper money, which he had received for one of his 144 CORREGGIO \ 5 I' » pictures, a long distance in the burning sun : the heat and the exertion brought on a fever, from which he never recovered. Later writers prove that this story is a fable, and that Corrcggio was not so poor as might be inferred from the words of Vasari. He is said to have given his sister a dowry of a hundred ducats on her marriage, and to have bought lands, which he afterwards left to his children. Raphael Mengs says : — " Some say that he was very poor, and of low extraction, others make him rich and of noble family, and that he left a good inheritance to his son Pom- ponio. That which is certain is, that in his paintings one does not see any sign of that economy or avarice, which is observable in poor painters." He was frugal in his personal habits, from regard it may have been to the interests of his family, but it does not follow, that he was grudging, miserly, or avaricious • indeed, the contrary can be proved from the lavish expenditure he made in the use of most costly colours. He returned to his native town in 1530, where he resided for the remainder of his life. Most likely he had accumu- lated a competent fortune, for we find that he was held in high estimation by his sovereigns, and in the year 1533 was one of the witnesses to a marriage which was celebrated in the castle of Correggio, between Ippolito, Lord of Cor- reggio, and son of Veronica Gambara, the illustrious poetess, widow of Ghiberto da Correggio, and Chiara da Correggio, his cousin. His signature was appended to the marriage deed; and this, I think, indubitably proves that his social standing was exceedingly good, and his poverty extreiijely problematical. CORREGGIO 145 No likeness of Correggio exists. The i)rofile, which is shown in the dome of Parma as his, is inadmissible. The head in Vasari's book is said to have been copied from a picture, not (^uite finished, which appears to have the touch of Correggio, and came from Sicily to Naples. There are other supposed portraits, but none authentic. Very litUe is known of his family. He was twice married, and had children by both wives. From the first was born, at Correggio, Pomponio Quirini AUegri, who was also a painter, but did not attain high reputation, and appears to have been of a careless and restless disposition : one of the causes, it may be, of his father's alleged parsimony. And in Parma, a daughter was born in 1524, and another in 1526. In the year following, he had the third daughter by the second wife. His father and mother both survived him. Correggio was seized with a malignant fever, of which he died, after a few days illness, March 5, 1534, in the forty- first year of his age. He was buried in his family sepulchre in the Franciscan Convent of Correggio, and a few words placed o\cr his tomb merely record the day of his death, and his name and profession. — " Maestro Antonio AUegri, De pintore." ; K -i^jBii.».,v;N*»»k» Mt,i iiij;i" 1 'Nw < ^m^fmi^^fi«mmmm^f^fimmimmmm LECTURE V. iiii FRANCESCO RAIBOLINI, LODOVICO CARRACCI, AGOSTINO CAR- RACCI, ANNIBALE CARRACCI, GUIDO RENI, DOMENICO ZAMPIERI, GIOVANNI FRANCESCO BARBIERI, MICHAEL- ANGELO AMERIGHI. I NOW come to some of the great Italian Masters of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, more especially to the Carracci, who established their celebrated school at Bologna in the sixteenth century, which exercised a most important influence on art over the whole of Italy. Bole jna, as early as the fifth century, was considered as a nursery of sciences and arts, and even during successive invasions, during its Republican era, its civic usurpations, and when reduced to be a province of the Holy See, it never lost its taste and interest for Art. Francesco Raibolini, surnamed Francia, born in the fifteenth century, may be considered as the head of the Bolognese school. " He was," says Lanzi, according to Malvasia, " esteemed and celebrated as the first man ot that age;" and he might have added "in Bologna," where many so considered him ; being there, as is attested by Vasari, " held in the estimation of a god." The time of Francia may be considered the first epoch of LODOVICO CARRACCI 147 art in Bologna, from its restoration in the twelfth or thirteenth centuries. And the second reaches from him, through a chain of inferior artists, to the Carracci, when it attained its height and greatest popularity, in the sixteenth century. " The Carracci have endeavoured," says Raphael Mengs, " to follow his steps [Correggio] ; they have followed him, but not imitated him. Lewis Carracci was too harsh and uniform. Annibale varied little the form ; and where Cor- reggio made the contours waving, he made them circular, and never convex. I say nothing of the colouring, because never have the Carracci remained famous in this ; they were always opaque." When treating of the Carracci, individually, we shall have occasion to refer to the share which each took in the establishment of their school. To Lodovico belongs the honour of having overcome all difficulties in the way of his design ; and he was ably seconded by his cousins, Agostino and Annibale, of whom he was accustomed to say in his old age, that he had never had, during his whole professional career, a single pupil to equal them." I shall also speak of Guido, Albani, and Domenichino, fellow-students in the school of the Carracci, and of Guercino and Caravaggio. The former to some extent an imitator, both of Guido and Caravaggio ; the latter different in style and manner, but having exercised considerable influence over both Guido and Guercino : all being contemporaries, and illustrious masters of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Lodovico Carracci, the founder of the eclectic school of Bologna, was bom at Bologna, 21st April 1555. He was placed first with Prospero Fontana. He afterwards studied with Passignano, at Florence, and devoted his attention to HI I' i iU 148 LODOVICO CARRACCI i (i! the works of Correggio and Parmigiano, at Parma, and to those of Giulio Romano, at Mantua, and Titian and Tin- toretto, at Venice. He appeared slow and inactive in his comprehension of art, and was called, like Domenichino, the Ox, but was a constant and attentive student, and, unlike the artists of his time, he determined to introduce method and well understood principles into art, to counteract the bad examples of the mannerists of his day. He was assisted by his nephews, some writers say cousins, Agostino and Annibale Carracci, whom he educated as artists, and whose lives I shall presently consider. In concert with them, he opened, in 1589, an Academy at Bologna, which bore the name of the Incanuninati, which was carried on by the cousins conjointly up to 1600, from A\hich time it was conducted by Lodovico alone, until his death in 16 19. " This," says Kiigler, " they furnished with all the neces- sary means of study — casts, drawings, and engravings; supplied living models for drawing and i)ainting, and provided instruction in the theoretic departments of per- spective, anatomy, etc. ; they superintended and directed the studies of their scholars with judgment and kindness." In spite of opposition, the school of the Carracci flourished, and soon remained the only one in Bologna. They incul- cated the study of nature and the imitation of the great masters, and endeavoured to unite the several excellencies of each in their own works — an unattainable object, thus clearly expressed by Fuseli in his criticism : — " Towards the decline of the sixteenth century, Lodovico Carracci, with his cousins, Agostino and Annibale, founded at Bologna that eclectic school, which, by selecting the LODOVICO CARRACCI 149 beauties, correcting the faults, supplying the defects, and avoiding the extremes of the different styles, attempted to form a perfect system. But as the mechanic part was their only object, they did not perceive that the projected union was incompatible with the leading principle of each master." Fuseli, however, does full justice to Lodovico, of whom he says : — " Lodovico, far from implicitly subscribing to a master's dictates, was the sworn pupil of Nature. To a modest style of form, to a simplicity eminently fitted for those subjects of religious gravity, which his taste preferred, he joined that solemnity of hue, that sober twilight, the air of cloistered meditation, which you have so often heard recommended as the proper tone of historic colour. Two often content to rear the humbler graces of his subject, he seldom courted elegance, but always when he did, with enviable success." Lodovico is best seen in the gallery of the Academy at Bologna, where there are a number of his pictures, including some of his most celebrated works. His two frescoes, with which he decorated, at S. Domenico, the chapel of the Lambertini, have perished. In one, he exhibited the holy founder, with St Francis, " in a manner," Lanzi says, " very easy and pleasing to the eye, with few lights and as few shades, but both powerful and with few folds in the drapery ; the countenances full of piety : insomuch, that the whole performance, in the words of Malvasia, ' rose to a pitch of grandeur not to be excelled.' In the other piece, he represented Cha?'tty, in a style equally soft, grace- ful, and polished, and which was subsequently, says the historian, esteemed ' the model and the rule of modem painting.' " i F^ ^50 LODOVICO CARRACCI In the opinion of Sir Joshua Reynolds, no painter under- stood better how to harmonize the treatment, and the subject of a picture, than Lodovico Carracci. " Style in painting," says Sir Joshua, " is the same as in writing, a power over materials, whether words or colours, by which conceptions or sentiments are conveyed. And in this, Lodovico Carracci, I mean in his best works, appears to me to approach the nearest to perfection. His unaffected breadth of light and shadow, the simplicity of colouring, which, holding its pro- per rank, does not draw aside the least part of the attention from the subject, and the solemn effect of that twilight, which seems diffused over his pictures, appear to me to correspond with grave and dignified subjects better than the more artificial sunshine, which enlightens the pictures of Titian." Lodovico Carracci is more to be admired and praised as a teacher than as an artist. The greater number of his pictures are at Bologna, as I have already mentioned, particularly in the Gallery. Kiigler says : — " In general composition, they are seldom attractive or dignified; the ability they evince is rather to be sought in single parts." Among his best is a Madonna in a glory of Ange/s standing on the Moon, with St Francis and St Jerome beside Her, also the Bi7'th of St John the Baptist. In the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, Vienna, there are two of his pictures ; one very good, St Francis in Meditation. In the Royal Gallery, at Munich, there are four — The Dead Christ deposited in the tomb by Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea, St Francis of Assisi meditating before a Shdl, St Francis of Assisi with an Angel, and St Francis ; none of these pictures are in his best manner. In the Royal LODOVICO CARRACCI 151 Gallery, Berlin, there are four — Virgin and Chiid, the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, St Charles Borromeo Pray- ing, and Venus and Cupid. In the Tribune of the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, there is Eliezar and Rebecca \ and in the gallery, Christ croiuned with thorns carrying the Cross, and St Francis. In the Royal Gallery, Dresden, there are two pictures — Christ croiuned with Thorns, and the Repose in Egypt. In the Gallery of the Capitol, Rome, there is an excellent picture, St Sebastian. In the Brera, at Milan, a good picture, the Canaaniiish Woman at our Lord's feet with several Apostles. A large Picta in the Corsini Palace, Rome. An Ecce Homo in the Doria Pamphili Palace, Rome. Several in the Louvre, and one in the National Gallery, London, Susannah and the Two Elders. This picture was formerly in the Orleans collection, from which it passed, in 1799, into the possession of Mr Angerstein, from whose heir it was purchased for the nation, in 1824. Notwithstanding the high praise of great critics — such as Sir Joshua Reynolds and Lanzi, the latter of whom says, " more excelling, therefore, than great, Lodovico may be said to be transcendant in every character" — I cannot commend the pictures I have seen of Lodovico Carracci as either inter- esting or delightful studies. They are certainly far inferior to those of his cousin, or nephew, Annibale, and want the energy and liveliness of the great masters of the Roman, Florentine, and Venetian schools. His death is said to have been hastened by some errors in the fresco of the Annunciation, in the cathedral of Bologna, his last work; and he died at Bologna, 13th December 1619, in the sixty-fourth year of his age. »"■ "U M 152 AGOSTINO CARRACCI M i Agostino Carracci was bom at Bologna, of an old family of that place, in 1558. His father, Antonio, was a tailor, but he was intended to be placed with a goldsmith, when his uncle, or as some writers call him, his cousin, Lodovico Carracci, observing his desire for painting, educated him, along with his brother Annibale, as artists. He was placed with Prospero Fontana, the master of Lodovico, and after- wards with Domenico Tibaldi, and Cornelius Cort, an en- graver, under whom he advanced greatly in the art of engraving, with which he was more occupied than with painting. He studied also some time at Parma, and at Venice, and after his return to Bologna, in 1589, was the most active teacher in the celebrated school of the Carracci. When his brother, Annibale, was engaged on his frescoes in the Famese Palace, at Rome, Agostino joined him, and for a time assisted him ; he executed several of the frescoes ; and, according to Malvasia, not only painted but designed some of the compositions ; and their success so irritated and excited the jealousy of Annibale, who could not brook the idea that the engraver had surpassed the painter, that differ- ences arose between them, and Agostino left Rome for Parma, when he entered the service of the Duke. Agostino was painter, engraver, poet, and musician, and well read and versed in the arts and sciences generally. He was fond of the society of the great, and this fancy was, according to Malvasia, the principal cause of his separation from his brother, while engaged in the Famese Gallery ; the immediate ground of offence being a caricature of their father and mother engaged in their tailor's work, which Annibale put into the hands of Agostino while surrounded by some distinguished acquaintances. AGOSTINO CARRACCI 153 Agostino was the most learned of the Carracci in the principles of art. Lanzi says : — " His powers of invention surpassed those of the other Carracci, and may rank him foremost in point of design. It is certain that in his engraving he corrected and improved upon the outlines of his originals. On his return from Venice, he applied himself more effectually to colouring, and succeeded in that of a horse, so far as to deceive the living animal, a triumph so much celebrated in Apelles." He wrote a sonnet, in which he defines the principles of their school. The following is a translation : — " To paint for fame, who nurtures high desire, . Will Rome's design keep ever in his view ; To the Venetian shade and action true, Of Lombardy's vi^hole colouring never tire ; Kindle at Michael's terrors, and his fire ; Seize Titian's living truth, who nature drew ; AUegri's pure and sovereign graces too ; To heavenly Raphael's symmetry aspire ; Tibaldi's solid sense, appropriate air, And Primaticcio's learn'd inventive thought. With Parmigiano's graceful sweetness fraught. And should all these ask too much studious care, Turn to our Nicolino's bright display Of wondrous works, the envy of his day. " The Carracci deserve much praise for their endeavours to improve and elevate art; and their imitation of the great masters was productive Ci. ximch good, but they failed to rival their great predecessors, Ra]:)hael, Correggio, and Titian. Agostino did not paint much, but is particularly celebrated for his engravings. His prints are very numerous ; one of the earliest, largest, and best of them is the Crucifixion, \\ I 'tm< 154 AGOSTINO CARRACCI w \ \ painted by Tintoretto for the Scuola of San Rocco in Venice: that engraving, completed in Venice in 1589, re- ceived the highest encomiums from Tintoretto himself. His pictures, which are rare, are remarkable for delicacy of treatment ; the St Jerome receiving the Sacrament before his Death is the most important picture in the Bolognese Gallery. The Infant Hercules strangling the Serpents, in the Louvre, is said by Kiigler to be by Agostino, though imputed to Annibale Carracci. He painted, for the Duke of Parma, Celestial Love, Ter- restrial Love, and Venal Love, to adorn one of the halls, a very beautiful work, which he finished only just before his death. A single figure remained wanting, and this the Duke would never consent to have supplied by any other hand. There are two of his pictures — the same subject — St Francis of Assisi, in the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, and in the Royal Gallery, at Munich. There are two Cartoons in the National Gallery, London, Ccphalus and Aurora and Galatea. These cartoons formed part of the celebrated collection of drawings belonging to Sir Thomas Lawrence, and are the original designs made by Agostmo Carracci for the frescoes in the Farnese Palace, at Rome. They were presented to the National Gallery, in 1837, by the Earl of Ellesmere. Fuseli gives him great praise: — "Agostino, with a singular modesty which prompted him rather to propagate the fame of others by his graver, than by steady exertions to rely on his own power for perpetuity of name, combined with some learning a celebrated taste, correctness, though not elegance of form, and a Correggiesque colour." It is said that at the point of death he was seized with iU! ANNIBALE CARRACCI 155 lively remorse, on account of his many licentious engravings and prints, and wept bitterly. He died at Parma, on the nth March 1601, in his forty- third year, and was buried in the cathedral. His funeral was, howrver, celebrated with great pomp at Bologna, by the artists of that school, and his funeral oration was delivered by Lucio Faberio. Annibale Carracci, the younger brother of Agostino, was born at Bologna, in 1560. His father intended to bring him up to his own business, and employed him in his shop as a tailor, but having evinced a desire to study, and a decided taste for painting, his cousin Lodovico Carracci, who was only five years his senior, offered to educate him, along with his brother, as artists. His first and only master was Lodo- vico. He, however, studied in Upper Italy, and became a follower of Correggio, and afterwards of Paul Veronese. But in Rome, his own powers were developed, under the influence of the works of Raphael and Michael Angelo, and resulted in the adoption of a new form. He became by far the most distinguished of the family, but Kiigler says : — " Annibale does not always please ; his forms have often something general and individual, and are deficient in the true enthusiasm for the subject ; fettered by the sense of the naturalism against which he had to contend, he seems to have been afraid of trusting to his own inspira- tion. For all this, if the spectator be just, he may always recognise the greatness of the painter in the powerful life which pervades his works, and, in cases where his feeling for nature is allowed to have scope, in his freshness and vigour." i ¥ 156 ANN IB ALE CARRACCF \ • , ■ ,. I i Agostino and Annibale went to Venice, and remained there a considerable time. Agostino did not return to Bologna until 15 89. Annibale returned somewhat earlier. and the three Carracci opened their academy in 1589. After executing, together with Lodovico and Agostino, several public and private works in Bologna, Annibale was invited, in 1600, to Rome by the Cardinal Odoardo Farnese, who received him well, granting the usual table allowance of a courtier, for himself and two attendants, and a monthly salary. He was assisted in the frescoes of the Farnese Palace, as already mentioned, by his brother Agostino, by Lanfranco, and by Domenichino, then a very young man. The Farnese Palace occupied the artists about eight years ; the decorations consisted chiefly of mytho- logical subjects. Of them Poussin asserted that, " after Rai)hael, there were no better compositions than these;" and Kiigler says :—" Artistically speaking, they claim the highest admiration ; for the technical process of fresco, we know no more finished specimen. The arrangement on the arched ceiling of the great saloon is only surpassed by the Sistine Chapel. The drawing is altogether masterly, both in the nude and in the draperies, and as far as fresco permits, modelling, colouring, and chiaroscuro may be termed per- fect." The paintings in the Farnese Palace were his last important works. Fuseli, contrary to the opinions of Poussin, Kiigler, and other eminent critics, speaks thus disparagingly : — " Annibale, superior to both [Lodovico and Agostino Carracci] in power of execution and academic prowess, was inferior to either in taste, and sensibility, and judgment — for the most striking proof of this inferiority, I appeal to his master-work, the work on which he rests his ":/ AN NIB ALE CARRACCI 157 fame, the (lallciy of the Famese Palace, a work whose uniform vigour of execution nothing can etiual but its imhccihty and incongruity of conception." Raphael Mengs thus speaks of Annibale and Agostino : — " Hannibal and Agustin had much talent, and studied a good style, but were addicted to work in haste ; and by that, the first works of Hannil)al are of good taste, but overcharged and little studied. . . . When Hannibal was at Venice, he in part imitated Paolo Veronese. He came, however, to Rome, and saw the works of Raphael, and the ancient statues, which soon made him a painter of another style. He moderated his fire, reformed the caricature of his forms, and sought beauty in the ancient character; but still conserved a part of the style of Cor- reggio to maintain his grandeur. In short, he became a painter, who, after the three luminaries of modern painting [Raphael, Correggio, and Titian], merited the first place." And again, in alluding to Correggio, he says : — " Above all, it will be sufficient to eternalise his glory that the Carracci, and particularly Hannibal and Lewis, formed their style of design upon that of Correggio, as one might see by all the works that they did before they came to Rome." Annibale was a diligent worker, and pictures by his hand are to be found in most of the great galleries of Europe. There are a number in the Louvre \ eight in the National Gallery, London, but none in his best manner; seven in the Royal Gallery in Berlin — St Paul and St Matthew, both good; the others — Christ at the Cross, Sainted Family, Landscape, St Phillipas, and James the Elder, are less interesting. His picture of St lioch distributing Alms, now in the I 158 ANNIDALE CARRACCI ' •■ Royal Gallery, at Dresden, is considered one of his finest works. Lanzi says of it : — " His picture of St Rocco is still more celebrated, comprising the perfections of different artists, a piece engraved in acquaforte by Guido Reni. He represented the saint, standing near a portico on a basement, and dispensing his wealth to poor mendicants: a composition not so very rich in figures as in knowledge of the art." In the Dresden Gallery there is another particularly fine picture, the Head of Christ, and several of less merit, the Genius of Glory, the Assumption of the Virgin, etc. In the Munich Gallery there are five pictures ; one very fine, Susannah in the Bath; the others are not particularly good — the Massacre of the Innocents, a Dead Christ, St Francis meditating before a Shu//, etc, There are four pictures in the Uffizi Gallery in Florence — one in the tribune, a Bacchante, Ban, and Cupid \ the others in the gallery, and of less merit, are — Fortrait of a Re/igieuse, the Virgin and Infant Jesus and St JoJin, and Fortrait of Him- se/f by himself. In the Pitti Palace, at Florence, there are three excellent pictures — Nymph with Satyrs, the Ho/y Fami/y resting on tJieir way to Egypt, and a very good Head of an 0/d Man. In the Palazzo Doria Pamphili, Rome, he is represented largely; and in the Palazzo Borghese, Rome, there is a good picture of St Dofnenic. The Brera, at Milan, is graced with two excellent pictures — the Woman of Samaria at the We//, and the Fortrait of Himse/f attd t/iree otJier Heads. In the Palazzo Balbi, Genoa, there is a striking Magda/en, and in the Palazzo Durazzo, Genoa, an excellent St Feter. There are several pictures in the Museum at Naples, of which one of the best is a Dead Christ. The Belvedere Gallery, Vienna, possesses ANNIBALE CARRACCl 159 six of his pictures, of which Adonis surprising Venus in a Wood, and Christ and the Samaritan Woman at the IVe/i, are both good. His // Si/i'ntio, in the Royal Collection at Windsor Castle, is admirable in composition, and exhibits much grace and feeling. It is a small picture, and has been well engraved by Bartolozzi. There is a repetition of it in the Louvre, with some slight alterations. In the Gallery of Bologna there is a picture of his " in which the Madonna," Kiigler says, " is in the manner of Paul Veronese ; the infant and the little St John, in that of Correggio ; St John the Evangelist, in that of Titian, while the St Catherine resembles Parmegianino." And : — " Aimi- bale was one of the first who practised landscape painting as a department of art. In many of Annibale's historical pictures, the landscape divides the interest with the figures." Ruskin will admit of no merit in the landscape of the Car- racci. He thus does his utmost to demolish their claim to any excellence whatever; may we not hope, however, that that great art critic is too severe in his strictures? He says: — "The influence of the Venetians hardly extended to them [Rubens and Rembrandt] ; the tower of the Titian- esque art fell southwards ; and on the dust of its ruins grew various art-weeds, such as Domenichino and the Carracci. Their landscape, which may in few words be accurately defined as " Scum of Titian," possesses no single merit, nor any ground for the forgiveness of demerit ; they are to be named only as a link through which the Venetian influence came dimly down to Claude and Salvator." Annibale, like his brother Agostino, died young, being only in the forty-ninth year of his age. The parsimony f !| <■ ,! i I I ; ' V!, i ' i I! ! J i6o GUIDO of his employers is said to have provoked his anger, and had an unfavourable effect on his health, which was utterly destroyed by a journey to Naples, and the persecutions l;j encountered from the Neapolitan artists. He died soon after his return to Rome, 15th July 1609, and was buried near Raphael in the Pantheon. A number of important artists sprung from the school of the Carracci. The most conspicuous of whom were Guido Reni, Francesco Albani, Domenico Zampicri, and Giovanni Francesco Barbieri, whose lives we shall now consider. I shall also add a short memoir of Caravaggio, who, although not of the school of the Carracci, indeed, the chief of the opposing faction, was yet a contemporary, and had consider- able influence over Guido and i3omenichino, who were not exempt from his example ; and particularly over Guercino, who in part adopted his style, that of the naturalists, or literal imitators of their models. Guido Reni, commonly called Giudo, was born at Calven- zano, near Bologna, November 4, ^ ^ , 5. His father was a musician, and Guido was intended for the same profession ; but, showing a great desire for art, he was placed in the school of Denis Calvart, where he remained till he was twenty years of age, and, in 1395, removed to that of the Carracci, and became 0:1 of their most distinguished pupils. He was gifted with a refined feeling for beauty, both in form and grouping, and was esteemed the great genius of the Bolognese school. Nor did any other artist excite so much jealousy in the Carracci : Lanzi says : — •• Lodovico was unable to disguise it ; and, from a pupil, he made him his rival, and, in order to humble him, bestowed GUIDO his favour on Guercino, an artist in quite another taste. Annibale too, after some years, on seeing him at Rome, blamed Albani for inviting him thither; and in order to depress him, he put Domenichino in opposition to him. Even from the age of twenty, when he left the school of Calvart, the Carracci discovered in him a rare genius for the art, so elevated and ambitious of distinction, that he aspired to something great and novel, from the outset of his career.' Kiigler is less enthusiastic in his praise. He says : — " In a freer period of art he would probably have attained the highest excellence, but it is precisely in his works that the restraint of his age is most apparent. His ideal consisted not so much in an exalted and purified conception of beauti- ful nature, as in an unmeaning, empty abstraction, devoid of individual life and personal interest." Fuseli is still more severe. He says : — " Grace attracted Guido, but it was the studied grace of theatres ; his female forms are abstracts of antique beauty, attended by languish- ing attitudes, arrayed by voluptuous fashions. His Aurjra deserved to precede a more majestic sun, and hours less clumsy \ his colour varies with his style, sometimes bland and harmonious, sometimes vigorous and stern, sometimes flat and insipid." Rai)hael Mengs says : — " He would have been another Raphael, if he had had better precepts ;" and, that he was "a painter of much merit, easy and elegant." It is said that Guido for some years copied his master's manner with great fidelity, so good, indeed, was his imita- tion of Calvart's style, that the old Fleming took advantage of it, and sold Guido's pictures as his own. When Guido objected to the unfair proceeding, and demanded a share in f 162 GUIDO the profits, the violent old man treated him, as he had done Domenichino, by beating him, and turning him out of his academy. He then went over to the Carracci, and joined their school, as I have already mentioned. For some time he followed the naturalists, and imitated the powerful light and shade effects of Caravaggio. But the Carracci made great efforts to retain him as their disciple, and i)ointed out to him, that instead of adopting the vulgar style of Cara- vaggio, it would be far more glorious to make his mode of painting a striking contrast to its coarse effects. " Instead of darkness and obscurity," said Annibale, " I would repre- sent my figures in open day. Far from avoiding the diffi- culties of art under the disguise of powerful shadows, I would court them by displaying every part in the clearest light. For the vulgar nature that Caravaggio is content to imitate, 1 would substitute the most select forms, and the most beautiful ideal." Guido remained about twenty years in Rome, including a short visit to Naples. He left Rome, abruptly, during the pontificate of Urban VIH., in consequence of an offensive reprimand which he received from the Cardinal Spinola. Guido had been commissioned to paint one of the altar pieces at St Peter's, and had received 400 scudi in advance ; but he allowed several years to elapse without even com- mencing the picture, and was rather harshly reminded by the Cardinal that he had received the money, for which he had done nothing. Guido immediately returned the money, and left Rome; and all attempts to induce him to return were in vain. He from this time settled in Bologna, where he lived in great splendour, and established a celebrated school. Guido's charges, when he settled in Bologna, were, for GUI DO 163 an entire figure, 100 scudi, about twenty guineas; for a half-length, 50 scudi; and for a head, 25 scudi, or five guineas. Afterwards, he raised them to five times that amount. An absorbing passion for gambling, and an indiscriminate liberality ruined Guido. Notwithstanding the princely income which he derived, for many years, from the sale of his pictures, he became embarrassed in his circumstances ; and he, ac- cording to Malvasia, in the latter and unhappy period of his career, sold his time at a stipulated sum per hour to certain dealers, one of whom tasked the painter so rigidly, as to stand beside him, with watch in hand, while he worked. In this way were produced numbers of heads and half-figures, which, though executed with the facility of a master, had little else to recommend them. Malvasia relates that such works were sometimes begun and finished in three hours, and even in less time. Notwithstanding this haste, he never lost sight of that exquisite ease which so much attracts us in his works. In the correct form, and beauty of his youth- ful heads, he, according to Mengs, surpassed all others ; and Passeri says : — " He drew faces of Paradise." His power of beauty Avas, in the words of Albani, his rival, " the gift of nature," but it was more probably the result of his intense study of natural beauty, the works of Raphael, and of the ancient statues, medals, and cameos. He declared that the Medicean Venus and the Niobe were his most favourite models. Guido painted in various styles ; in his earlier works he followed the style of Caravaggio. This he changed during his residence in Rome to one more graceful, but of an ornamental character, of which the Aurora of the Rospig- n 164 GUIDO liosi Palace is a good example, and is by many considered his masterpiece. Of his earlier works, his Cnicifixion of St Fcter, in the Vatican, the Madonna dclla Fieta, the Crucifixion, and the Massacre of the In?ioce?tts, in the Bologna Gallery, are good examples. Guide's works are to be found in most of the galleries in Europe. The National Gallery, London, possesses seven of his pictures, several ot them very fine; St Jerome Kneeiitig before a Crucifix, and Beating his Breast -with a Stone, the Youthful Christ embracing St John, Two Heads, the Coronation of the Virgin, and the Ecce Homo. The last is painted with much care, and with great effect. The feeling, when looking at this picture, was well expressed by Sharp, who engraved it, adding the inscription — " Behold, and see if there be any sorrow Hke unto my sorrow." The Berlin Museum contains six pictures, the best being The Hennits, Paul a?id Anthofiy, Discoursing ; Venus and Cupid: Mater Dolorosa, Holy i^atnily, Mary as Queen of Heaven, and Fortune, are not of equal merit to the first. The Royal Gallery, at Dresden, has several very fine pictures, altogether ten. I would particularly notice Venus presented by Cupid with an Arrow, a most lovely and graceful picture; Niniis and Semiramis, sometimes called " Solomon and the Queen of Sheba," very magnificent ; and Christ crowned luith Thorns, a painful picture to look at, but celebrated as one of the finest pictures of the artist. The Royal Gallery, at Munich, has three, all fine pictures — St Je?vme, Apollo faying Maryas, the Assumption of the GUIDO 165 Virgin : in this picture the figure of the Virgin is represented with great grace, and much ease, floating in the air to heaven. There are several pictures in the Uffizi Gallery at Flor- ence ; one in the Tribune, the Virgin^ half figure, good j and also the Sibyl. The Pitti Palace has several, some of the best are Bacchus^ St Peter., Charity., Head of St Eliza- beth., and Cleopatra. The last is a remarkable picture, though the figure is much too large to be graceful. There are two good pictures in the Vatican, one of which, the Crucifixion of St Peter., is magnificent, and is considered one of the artist's best works ; the other, the Madonna and Child in Glory., with St Thomas and St Jerome., is beautifully painted, the heads being particularly fine. In the Palazzo Barberini is the celebrated Portrait of Beatrice Cenci. It is said that this picture was taken the night before her execution ; other accounts state that it was painted by Guido from memory, after he had seen her on the scaffold. Be this as it may, the artist has succeeded in producing a most interesting and remarkably beautiful picture. It has been copied, engraved, and photographed so frequently, that almost every person is familiar with it. The picture represents Beatrice as a lovely young maiden, with a most innocent, soft, and expressive countenance, and it is difficult to believe that such a charming looking young girl could have been guilty of assisting to murder her own father. Beatrice was little more than sixteen years old when she was put to death. In the Palazzo Borghese, Rome, there is a good Head of St Joseph. In the Palazzo Doria PamphiH, there are two good pictures, Judith with the Head of Holofer?ies, i( i66 GUIDO I \ and the Virgin in adoration before the Infant Saviour. The Palazzo Corsini is rich in Guide's. There are two Ecce Homo's, Herodias, the Crucifixion of St Peter, an Adolarato, St John, a small Crucifixion, and Cofiteniflation. The Palazzo Colonna has a good St Agnes; and in the Academy of St Luke, also at Rome, there is a lovely picture, Bacchus and Ariadne, and Fortune, a remarkably beautiful picture, bright and fresh, colour excellent. In the Brera, at Milan, St Peter and St Paul is a most striking picture, painted with great force, and the colouring extremely good. Genoa possesses many pictures of Guido. The Palazzo Brignole Sale has a beautiful St Sebastian. The Palazzo Balbi, Liicretia, St Jerome in the Desert, and a Magdalen, all fine pictures; and the Palazzo Durazzo, an excellent picture, a Child, in oval. The Museum, at Naples, contains three Guidos — the Four Seasons, the Race between Atalanta and Hippomenus, elegant in design, and very fresh and bright looking ; and Modesty, with Vanity, very beautiful. There are pictures by Guido in the Louvre, and no less than eleven in the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna; the finest are — CJirist crowned with TJiorns, Baptism of C/irist in tJie Jorda?i, an Ecce Homo, and Allegory of the Four Seasons. The Lichtenstein Gallery, Vienna, has a very fine Venus Asleep ; Adoration of the Shepherds, and David witJi tJic Head of Goliath, Guido painted very few portraits ; his pictures, as you will have observed from the foregoing list, are chiefly Scriptural or mythological. He formed for himself a certain general ALBANI 167 and abstract idea of beauty. On being asked by one of his pupils, in 7u/iat part of /leai'en, in ivhat mould existed those wondrous features which he only drew, he pointed to the casts of the antique heads, adding " you, too, may gather from such examples beauties similar to those in my pictures, if your skill be equal to the task." He would not allow his scholars to copy in the first ir.stance from his own works, but made them study the works of Lodovico Carracci, and the most eminent deceased masters. Guido died at Bologna i8th August 1642, and was buried with great pomp in the church of San Domenico. Francesco Albani, sometimes called Albano, was born in Bologna, 17th March 1578. His father was a silk merchant, and intended to bring up his son to that business ; but Albani, having a strong inclination to painting, devoted him- self to that art. His father died when he was twelve years of age, and he was thus left free to choose his own profession. He first studied under Denis Calvart, and had for his fellow- student, Guido, with whom he contracted a very great friend- ship. Calvart left him almost entirely to the care of Guido, under whom he made great improvement. He followed Guido to the school of the Carracci; but their friendship began to cool, and they became rivals. They tried to eclipse one another, for, when Guido had set up a beautiful altar piece, Albani would oppose it with some fine picture of his. They continued this rivalry for some time, but spoke of each other with the highest esteem. Mengs says : — " He studied the forms of the ancients, and was a graceful painter." And Fuseli says : — " Albani chiefly attracted by soft mytho- logic conceits, formed Nereids and Oreads on plump Venetian ' < i68 ALBANl I models, and contrasted their pearly hues with the rosy tints of loves, the juicy brown of fauns and satyrs, and rich marine or sylvan scenery." He was an intimate friend of Domenichino, with whom he agreed in a general taste, but in point of original invention he was his superior. He was called the Anacreon of painting, and, like that poet with his short odes, acquired great reputation from his small paint- ings. The poet sings of Venus and the Loves, and maids and boys ; and the artist delights the eye with the same delicate and graceful subjects. Albani, after having greatly improved himself under the Carracci, went to Rome, where he continued many years, and married in that city ; but his wife dying in child-bed, at the earnest request of his relatives he returned to Bologna, where he entered again into the state of matri- mony. His second wife, Doralice, was well descended, but had very little fortune ; but she was blessed with beauty and good sense. Albani made his wife his model on all occa- sions ; and painted a Venus, the Graces, Nymphs, and other deities from this beautiful woman, who was famed for her bloom of youth, the beauty of her person, and her extreme modesty and grace. They had twelve children, all of surpassing beauty, so it was said that she and her children were the originals of his most agreeable and graceful com- positions. Doralice was so anxious to assist her husband in his studies that she took pleasure in seating the children in different attitudes, holding them naked, and sometimes suspended by strings, when Albani would draw them in a thousand different ways. It was from them, too, that the sculptors, Flamand and Argaldi, modelled their little cupids. He had also a villa delightfully situated, which presented il ALBANI 169 him with a variety of objects, enabling him to represent the beautiful rural views so familiar to his eye. Kiigler says ; — "Elegance is, in one word, the characteristic of this painter. He delights in cheerful subjects, in which a playful fancy can expatiate ; such as scenes and figures from ancient mythology — above all, Venus and her companions, smiling landscapes, and hosts of charming aviorini, who surround the principal groups, or even form the subject of the picture. But his works, both landscape and figures, have throughout a merely decorative character ; their elegance seldom rises to grace of mind ; their playfulness rarely bespeaks real enjoy- ment." His favourite themes are the Sleeping Venus, Diana in her bath, Danae on her couch, Galatea in the sea, or Europea on the bull. There are a number of his pictures in the Louvre ; eight in the Museum at Berlin — St Simon, St BartJiolotnno, St Thaddeus, St Andrew, St Fete?; Mary, Christ, and St John the Baptist. In the Royal Gallery, at Dresden, there are ten of his pic- tures — The Adoration, Holy Family resting during the Flight to Egypt, and a Holy Family, etc. ; but none of great excellence. In the Royal Gallery, at Munich, there are three pictures, none very striking. But in the Erera, at Milan, there is a very graceful and pleasing picture, the Dance of Cupids, or the Triumph of Love over Pluto. In the Pitti Palace, Florence, there is a good Holy Family, and several other pictures ; and in the Uffizi Gallery, several — Venus Asleep, St Peter delivered by an Angel, the Repose during t/ie Flight to Fgypt, the Little St John 7uith a Lamb, and a Landscape ivith Cupids Dancing. There are also pictures by Albani in the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, in the Borghese ■ 170 DOMENICHINO { and Colonna Palaces at Rome, a beautiful picture in the Corsini Palace, Alercury and Apollo, and two oval pictures, Venus and Cupids, and some pleasing frescoes in the Torlonia Palace. There are also some in the Gallery at Bologna ; but none in the National Gallery of England. Albani, though well versed in some branches of polite literature, was not a classical scholar — a circumstance he much regretted, and which defect in his education he endeavoured to supply by carefully perusing the Italian translations of such books as were useful in his profession. Albani was of a hai)i)y temper and disi)osition, " his paintings," says Malvasia, " breathing nothing but content and joy, happy in a force of mind that conquered every uneasiness, his poetical pencil carried him through the most agreeable gardens to Paphos and Citherea." Albani was most careful in Avatching over Raphael's frescoes in Rome, and he superintended their restoration ; for this alone he deserves a high reputation in the history of art. He was a great favourite in his native city, and was universally esteemed, and visited by the greatest painters; several princes also honoured him with letters, and amongst the rest, Charles I. invited him to England, by a letter signed with his own hand. He died on the 4th October 1660, to the great grief of all his friends, and the whole city of Bologna. Domenico Zampieri, commonly called Domenichino, because of his diminutive stature, was the son of a shoe- maker in Bologna, and was born there in 1581. The father of Domenico, though of a humble trade, appears to have had strong opinions on the subject of art, and was a DOMENICHINO 171 I , violent opponent of the new school of the Carracci ; and was determined that his son, who wished to become a painter, should not imbibe its eclectic principles. He accordingly placed him, as soon as he was old enough to learn painting, in the studio of Denis Calvart, the master of Guido and Albani. Domenichino had, however, espoused the opposite side to his father, in the great art controversy which was then raging in Bologna, and one day he was caught by his master making a copy of an engraving by Annibale Carracci. His master was so enraged at this, that he turned him out of his Academy, and the boy, not daring to go home to his father, passed the night in a barn. By the kindness of Agostino Carracci, he was admitted in the school of the Carracci, where, in spite of his slowness, and the sneers of his fellow-students, who appear to have regarded him with contempt, his industry and talent soon gained him reputation. He became intimate with Guido and Albani, and on leaving Bologna, he followed the latter to Rome, where the Carracci, who were becoming jealous of their pupil Guido, put him forward as a rival to that rising master. Domenichino never became a favourite in Rome; he was slow and diffident, and obtained few commissions, though he was zealously supported by Annibale Carracci, and other artists of that school. He acquired great honour for a fresco of the Flagella- tion of St Andrem, painted opposite to a fresco by Guido, representing the same saint going to Martyrdom, in the church of San Gregorio, at Rome. It was doubtful which was the best production, but Domenichino appears to have I ii:i kW IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) /. \\j yo ■ I.I 1.25 28 1^ 12.2 ^ ^ llli i^ i;s IIIIIM 1.4 1.8 1.6 V] /^ ^/,. o 7 A^ v c^-^ \^ rs- <^^^'<^q\ iv^. -^^^ ;V 172 DOMENICHINO secured the general opinion in his favour. When Annibale Carracci was asked his opinion of the two works, he answered, "that Guido appeared to be the master, and Domenichino the scholar, but that the scholar was more able than the master." It is related of Domenichino, that, whilst painting an executioner in one of his Martyrdoms, he threw himself into a passion, in order better to understand the character he was drawing. He was surprised by Annibale Carracci walking about his studio using violent words and gestures. Annibale was delighted with the hint, and exclaimed, " To-day, my Domenichino, thou art teaching me." Domenichino, who was a quiet unobtrusive man, was the victim of a disgraceful persecution. His enemies, headed by the painter Lanfranco, accused him of impiety and plagiarism, and overwhelmed him with sarcasm and abuse ; and though he was supported by Guido and Annibale Carracci, he was compelled to leave Rome. He was unfortunate, too, in his domestic life. His wife, who was said to have been very beautiful, does not appear to have comforted her husband in his misfortunes, but rather to have joined his enemies in reproaching him. In a letter to his friend Albani, he complains that his enemies are those of his own household ; and that, since the death of his two sons, he has no one left but his little daughter to give him any comfort. Lanzi says : — " Domenichino is at this day universally esteemed the most distinguished pupil of the Carracci, and has even been preferred by Count Algarotti to the Carracci themselves. What is still more, Poussin ranked him directly next to Raphael; and, in the introduction 1 DOMENICHINO 173 and to the life of Camassei, almost the same opinion is given by Passeri." Kugler says: — "His works were noted for their pure artlessness, and the free conception of nature, but he could not on the whole cast aside the trammels of his school. He was not gifted with a particularly rich fancy, and frequently made use of the compositions of other artists." Raphael Mengs considers that " Domenichino had much expression, and design ; and these were all his capital. But the expression which he gave to all his heads, one knows not how to conceive of what kind it be, unless it might arise from an air of timidity which he applied to them right or wrong ; so that it is a style of his own, rather than expression. This style is suitable only for children, who have little force or variety ; and in these, Domenichino has much merit. In the other figures he was cold, and wanted variety. Many of his ideas were low and ordinary; he often produced repetitions, and had favourite subjects which he repeated continually." Fuseli, a later critic, states that " Domenichino aimed at the beauty of the antique, the expression of Raphael, the vigour of Annibale, the colour of Lodovico, and, mixing something of each, fell short of all." Domenichino introduces some splendid exhibitions of architecture into many of his pictures, and in this respect followed the example of Paul Veronese. He was also eminent as an architect, and was named by Gregory XV. as architect for the Apostolic Palace. He was also great as a fresco painter, and executed numerous works in Rome and Naples. His pictures are rarely to be met with, except in capital - - 174 DOMENICHINO l\ i; t h 'I 1 1. cities. In the National Gallery, London, there are four ot his pictures — Landscape with Figures, representing the story of Tobias and the Angel; Landscape with Figures, repre- senting the story of St George and the Dragon ; the Stoning of St Stephen, and St Jerome and the Angel. None of these pictures are in the master's best manner, or indeed entitled to much praise, or worthy of particular notice. There are six pictures in the Berlin Museum, three of them good, St Hieronymus, St John the Evangelist, and St Thoffias. In the Royal Gallery, at Dresden, there is only one, and that not of particular excellence — Charity. In the Royal Gallery, at Munich, three, but none in his best style. His Susannah at the Bath is curious from the landscape and house introduced into the design. His other pictures are Jupiter and Europa, and St Jerome Writing, an Angel Dictating to Him. The Uffizi Gallery, at Florence, contains a few, the finest being the Portrait of Cardinal Agucchia, placed in the choice collection in the Tribune. In the Pitti Palace, Florence, there are three good paint- ings, St Mary Magdalene, and two Landscapes with Figures. The Vatican contains his greatest picture, the undoubted masterpiece of Domenichino, the Communion of St Jerome, This picture is generally considered only second to the Transfiguration of Raphael, opposite to which it is placed. The composition is remarkable for its simplicity of design. It was painted for the Church of the Ara Coeli, at P^ome. It afterwards belonged to the Church of St Girolamo della Carita, from which it was removed to Paris, to be again restored at Rome. DOMENICHINO 175 St Jerome, who died at Bethlehem, is represented receiv- ing the Sacrament from St Ephriam of Syria, who is clothed in the vestments of the Greek Church ; the deacon, bearing the sacramental chalice, wears the dalmatica, and the kneel- ing attendant holds the volume of the gospels. Santa Paola on her knees kisses the hands of the dying saint. The Arab in a turban, in the background, and the Lion, give variety to the composition, and identify it with the place where the scene is laid. The story of St Jerome is, that having lived in the desert as a hermit, surrounded only by wild beasts, he at last became very ill, and then desired to receive the last offices of the church before he died. He crawled along until he came in sight of the church, when he fell exhausted. He was assisted towards the church, when the Bishop came down and administered to him the sacrament ; on receiving which he immediately expired. The poor old saint looks very much exhausted and near his end, and the other figures are most faithfully rendered. The four angel children in the upper part of the picture, are beautifully easy and graceful, and two seem to float in air without the slightest exertion. They appear hanging together, holding each others hands in an exceedingly graceful manner. Fuseli says: — "The head of the officiating priest, whether considered as a specimen of colour, independent of the rest or as set off by it, for truth, tone, freshness, energy, is not only the best Domenichino ever painted, but perhaps the best that can be conceived." This famous picture was painted by Domenichino for Fifty scudt, about ten guineas. In the Gallery of the Capitol, Rome, there are two good pictures : the Ciimcean Sibyl and St Barbara; in the \\ 176 DOMENICHINO '.- V ll I! 'I % Palazzo Barberini, a very good picture, Adam and Eve driven out of Paradise ; and in the Borghese Palace, two of his most famous pictures, the Cumcean Sibyl and the Chast of Diana — the latter a very large picture. It represents Diana and her Nymphs ; some of them are shooting at a mark with arrows, others are bathing. The Palazzo Corsini is rich in the works of Domenichino ; some of the finest are. Portrait of a Gonfaloniere of the Church, Susannah at the Bath, and Christ laid in the Sepulchre. In the Brera, in Milan, there is only one picture, but that a very good example of the master, the Virgin and Child with St John the Evangelist, St Petronio and many Cherubs. The Palazzo Durazzo, at Genoa, contains one of his best works, Our Lord appearing to the Virgin after the Resurrection. In the Museum of Naples there is a curious, fanciful, but at same time, very fine picture, a Guardian Angel protecting Innocence from the Snares of the Evil One. In Prince Lichtenstein's Gallery, at Vienna, there is an excellent Sibyl ; and several in the Royal collection at Windsor Castle, and other Royal residences; a beautiful St Agnes, one of his best pictures, and St Catherine, charm- ing both in features and expression. After being forced to leave vome, Domenichino resided for a few years in Bologna ; he then unfortunately went to Naples, where he was engaged to paint some frescoes in the Capella del Tesoro. Here he again encountered his old enemy, Lanfranco, who, joining with a disreputable set of artists, known as the " Cabal of Naples," who would tolerate no strangers, commenced most malicious attacks against him, which finally determined Domenichino to depart secretly for Rome. c^ GUERCINO 177 As soon, however, as his flight was discovered, he was recalled, and fresh measures were taken for his protection ; he resumed his labours, and decorated the walls and base of the cupola, and made othenvise considerable progress. But before he could finish his task he was cut off, either by poison, or vexation caused by the ungenerous treatment he had received from relatives and foes. He died at Naples, isth April, 1641. Giovanni Francesco Barbieri, sumamed Guercino da Cento from his squinting, was bom, of very humble parents, at Cento, near Bologna, 2d February 1592. He was self-taught; and, it is said, commenced life by taking care of his father's cart, when he carried supplies of wood and faggots to the towns. He studied some time at Bologna and Venice, and repaired in the time of Paul V. to Rome. It is doubtful whether he ever studied in the school of the Carracci, though it has been the universal custom to include him among their disciples. At Rome, he made the acquaintance of Caravaggio, and became an imitator of his style, but, in consequence of the impetuous temper of that artist, he soon avoided his society. Having executed several commissions at Rome, he returned to his native place, after the death of his patron, Gregory XV., in 1623. He lived there during twenty years, and during that period, from his great rapidity, completed an extraordinary number of pictures, and, in consequence, his works are to be found in nearly all the great galleries of Europe. M n 178 GUERCINO Raphael Mengs says : — " He was original in his style. He had great knowledge in clare obscure, and, if he had given more nobility to things, he would have been as estimable as Guido Reni." Fuseli exclaims, that " he broke like a torrent over all academic rules ; and, with an ungovernable itch of copying whatever lay in his way, sacrificed mind, form, and costume to effects of colour, fierceness of chiaroscuro, and intrepidity of hand." After the death of Guido, in 1642, Guercino removed to Bologna, and began to imitate the style of that master, and, in emulating his sweetness, forsook the vigorous manner of his earlier pictures, and fell into an insipid manner. Lanzi says : — " Often in comparing the figures of Guido with Guercino's, one would say that the former had been fed with roses, as observed by one of the ancients, and the latter with flesh." And Kiigler observes, that " the progress of his development may be compared to that of Guido Reni; but he is distinguished from that master by the expression of a livelier feeling, while Guido rather follows his own ideal beauty. At a later period, Guercino, like Guido, adopted a softer style, in which he produced a fascinating effect by a delicate combination of colours. In his later works, the same insipidity observable in Guido frequently appears ; a repulsive mannerism takes the place of sentiment, and the colouring is pale and indistinctly washy." He practised landscape painting, and acquired a beautiful and rich style of colouring. His finest frescoes ornament the cupola of the Cathedral at Picenza; these works were executed in his full vigour. In the upper part he has represented the prophets accompanied by angels; GUERCINO 179 and in the lower, tlic sibyls, and subjects from the New Testament. They are noble compositions. In the National Gallery, London, there is only one picture by this artist, but a very fine example of his style, Angels loeeping over the Dead Body of Christ. There are two excellent pictures in the Gallery at Bologna — St William of Acquitane assuming the Garb of a Monk, and the Virgin appearing *o St Bruno. There are several pictures in ihe Louvre and English Galleries, particularly in the Royal Collection. In the Museum, at Berlin, there are several — Portrait of Count Dondinu of Cento, Virgin and Child, etc., but none remarkable. In the Royal Gallery, Dresden, there are fourteen, the best being a Holy Family. The Munich Gallery contains two excellent pictures — the Crowning of Christ with Thorns, executed by a Soldier in the presence of the Judge, and the Virgin and Infant Jesus. In the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, there are three — Land- scape with Figures, and a Sibyl, and Endymion, the two last being in the Tribune. The Pitti Palace is rich in fine examples of this master, containing — the Miracle of St Peter, the Head of Moses, Apollo and Marsyas, St Joseph, the Virgin, Infant Jesus and an Angel, Head of St Peter, Si Sebastian, and Susannah. The Brera at Milan has several; one, Abraham dismissing Hagar, so much admired by Lord Byron, and so severely criticised by others, yet possessing power, colouring wonder- fully bright and well preserved. In the Palazzo Brignole Sale, Genoa, there is a very fine Virgin enthroned with the Infant in her Arms, and Saints Standing Hound, colouring very rich ; and a good Cleopatra. i8o GUERCINO In the Palazzo Durazzo, Genoa, the Tribute Money ; and in Naples, in the Museum, Magdalen in Prayer^ very fine, face beautiful ; and St Jerome^ and St John the Evangelist, both good. In the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, there are four pictures, two of them very good — Return of the Youth- ful Prodigal, and the Young Prodigal receiving Neia Clothes. In Prince Lichtenstein's Gallery, Vienna, a good St John ; and in the Vatican one of his best pictures, the Incredulity of St Thotnas. In the Palazzo Doria Pamphili, there are two good pictures — Erminia and Tancredi, and Endymion. The Palazzo Corsini is rich with some of his finest pictures, an Ecce Homo, St John, Christ and the Samaritan Woman at the Well, the Annunciation, and St Jerome. The Palazzo Colonna has several fine pictures — Moses, and two of St ferome. His masterpiece, however, is in the Gallery of the Capitol at Rome, Santa Petronilla; and that Gallery also contains the Sibilla Persica, and Augustus and Cleopatra; the last is not without force and beauty, though the attitude and position of Cleopatra may justly be open to criticism. The Santa Petronilla is full of life, clear, and distinct, but the figures are colossal, which is objectionable, though it adds perhap? to the grandeur of the design. The lower part of the picture represents the grave of the martyr, where her body is shown to Flaccus, a Roman senator, to whom she had been betrothed. In the upper part, the Saint is ascending to heaven. This picture was formerly in St Peter's, where there is now a mosaic of it. Guercino declined all invitations to leave Bologna, though he was urged to do so by the Kings of England and France. Nor could Christina, Queen of Sweden, prevail upon him to CARAVAGGIO i8i leave his native country, though she visited Bologna for the purpose ; and would not be satisfied till she had taken him by the hand — *' that hand," said she, " which had painted io6 altar pieces, 144 pictures for people of the first quality in Europe, and had, besides, composed ten books of designs." He received the honour of knighthood from the Duke of Mantua. He died, unmarried, at Bologna, in very affluent circum- stances, in 1666, notwithstanding his having spent vast sums of money in building chapels, founding hospitals, and other acts of charity. He was highly esteemed for his exemplary piety, prudence, and morality. Michaelangelo Amerighi, or Merigi da Caravaggio — but generally known as Caravaggio — was bom at Caravaggio, near Milan, in the year 1569. His father was a mason, and he commenced life as a bricklayer, but soon turned his attention to art, and maintained himself by painting portraits at Milan for several years. He then went to Venice, where he studied the works of Giorgione, and from thence pro- ceeded to Rome, where, being unable to procure materials for painting, he entered the service of the Cavaliere Cesare d'Arpino, who employed him in painting fruit and flowers, and other ornamental parts of his own works. He at length produced the celebrated picture of // Giuoco di Carte, or the Cheating Gamester, of which there are many repetitions ; the best being in the Sciarra Palace at Rome. Caravaggio was now fully established, but his temper was violent, and while playing a game at tennis with an acquain- tance, he became so excited in a dispute that he killed his companion, and immediately fled to Naples. He remained l82 CARAVAGGfO there a short period, and then proceeded to Malta, where he obtained the favour of the Grand Master Vignacourt, who sat to Caravaggio for two portraits, and made him a Knight of the Cross of Malta. Here again his temper ruined him ; he quarrelled with one of the knights, and was cast into prison. He managed, however, to escape, and fled to Syracuse. He afterwards visited Messina and Palermo, and having executed a few pictures in these cities, he returned to Naples. Lanzi declares that " he is memorable in this epoch for having recalled the art from mannerism to truth, as well in his forms, which he always drew from nature, as in his colours, banishing the cinnabar and azures, and composing his colours of few, but true, tints, after the manner of Gior- gione. Annibale Carracci, extolling him, declares that he did not paint, but grind, flesh, and both Guercino and Guido highly admired him, and profited from his example." Kiigler says : — *' Notwithstanding his coarseness, his works display a peculiar breadth, and, to a certain extent, even a tragic pathos, which is especially assisted by the grand lines of his draperies." And Fuseli states that " no painter ever painted his own mind so forcibly as Michaelangelo Amerigi, surnamed II Caravaggio, Knight of Malta. To none nature ever set limits with a more decided hand. Darkness gave him light ; into his melancholy cell light stole only with a pale, reluctant ray, or broke on it as flashes on a stormy night. The most vulgar forms he recommended by ideal light and shade, and a tremendous breadth of manner." Having procured the Pope's pardon for the homicide committed in Rome, he hired a felucca, and set out for CARAVAGGIO 183 I that city. On the way, however, he fell in with a Spanish (oast-guard, who arrested him, mistaking him for another person, and when he was at length liberated he found that the sailors of the felucca had decamped with all his property. Flis pictures are not numerous in Rome, one of the best there being in the Vatican, and exhibiting the most magnifi- cent specimen of light and shade of the master — the Entombment of our Lord. Of this picture, Kiigler speaks rather disjjaragingly : — " A picture, certainly wanting in all the characteristics of holy sublimity, but, nevertheless, full of solemnity, only perhaps too like the funeral ceremony of a gipsy chief." The Beheading of St John, in the Cathedral of Malta, is said to be one of Caravaggio's master works. There is only one of his pictures in the National Gallery, London — Christ and the Two Disciples at Emmaus^ a fine composition, formerly in the Borghese Gallery at Rome. His St MattJiew the Evangelist, in the Museum, at Berlin, is excellent, and Christ at the Mount of Olives, in the same gallery, is nobly conceived, with great breadth and strength of drawing. The scene is at night, and is described in Matthew xxvi. 20, 30, 36, 37, 38, and 40th verses. Cara- vaggio has chosen the moment when Christ says to Peter, "What! could ye not watch with me one hour?" and has depicted James and John asleep, and Peter rousing himself at the touch and voice of the Saviour. The figure and attitude of Christ is majestic and solemn, and the whole picture is wonderfully coloured and beautifully clear, not- withstanding that the scene is shrouded in the darkness of evening. 1 84 CARAVAGGIO In the Royal Gallery of Dresden there are six of his pictures, and in the Gallery at Munich, four, but r':>ne of them is of particular excellence. In the Uffizi Gallery, Florence, there are two good pictures— y^^JWi" disputing with the Doctors, and the Tribute Money ; there is also the Head of Medusa, an extraordinary picture. In the Pitti Palace, Love Asleep ; and in the Brera, at Milan, St Sebastian. In Genoa there are several striking pictures. The Resurrection of Lazarus, in the Palazzo Brignole Sale, is powerful and well painted ; and the Conversion of St Paul, in the Palazzo Balbi, is also good. There is a dreadfully forcible and expressive picture in the Museum at Naples, Judith with the Head of Holofernes. Judith is using the sword unsparingly, and the blood is spurting out over the bed. It is too like reality to be pleasant. In the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, there are six pictures — David with the Head of Goliath is very fine, and the Madonna with a Rosary, and St Domenic and Peter the Marf^ 'stributing Rosaries to the People by Order of the Vi,^ ,n, is wonderfully clear and distinct. In Prince Lichtenstein's Gallery, at Vienna, there is his Cleopatra Dying, and in the Palazzo Doria Pamphili, at Rome, the Melon Seller, and in the Palazzo Corsini, a Virgin and Child. Caravaggio, after leading a wild and licentious life, became, rofter the loss of all his property, much reduced, and wan- dered despondingly along the coast until he came to Porte Ercole, where, probably from his disappointment, and partly CARAVAGGIO 185 from the heat of the weather, he was seized with a malignant fever, and died after a few days' illness, in 1609, at the early age of forty. " His life was one long war with self-sought foes, Or friends by him self banished ; for his mind Had grown Suspicion's sanctuary, and chose For its own cruel sacrifice the kind, 'Gainst whom he raged with fury strange and blind," LECTURE VI. GIOVANNI CIMABUE, GIOTTO, CRISTOFORO ALLORI, GIOVANNI BATTISTA SALVI, SALVATOR ROSA, CARLO DOLCI, CARLO MARATTI, LUCA GIORDANO In former lectures, I have brought under your notice the great masters of ItaHan art — Leonardo da Vinci and Michael Angelo, Raphael and Titian; the five great Venetians — Giorgione, Palma Vecchio, Sebastiano del Piombo, Tinto- retto, and Paul Veronese; and of the Florentines, Andrea del Sarto, Giulio Romano, the founder of the school of Mantua, and the great Correggio, the founder of the school of Parma; all of whom, renowned artists, flourished during the sixteenth century. I have also continued my sketches of several of the great men who succeeded these masters in the latter part of the sixteenth, and beginning of the seven- teenth centuries — the Carracci, Guido, Albani, Domeni- chino, Guercino, and Caravaggio ; and I shall now conclude my remarks on Italian art, by a short account of several of the most prominent artists of the seventeenth century — AUori, Sassoferrato, Salvator Rosa, Carlo Dolci, Carlo Maratti, and Giordano, almost the last distinguished mas- ters of the Florentine, Roman, and Neapolitan schools. CIMABUE 187 Before doing so, however, it may be well, in order that you may thoroughly understand the history of the rise and fall of art in Italy, to take a rapid survey of its progress from its early Christian period till its culminating point of grandeur and perfection in the sixteenth century, and its gradual extinction and decay during the seventeenth and succeeding centuries. The paintings in the Catacombs, at Rome, are generally considered the earliest examples of Christian art. They are, for the most part, rude in design, but evidently show that they are the children of a lofty lineage, modelled from the classical Greek of earlier days. This classical style of sacred and pure subjects, which prevailed during the third, fourth, and fifth centuries, soon became cold and stiff, and assumed the stern character of the Byzantine school; and it was not till the thirteenth century that Giovanni Cimabue, " the father of modem painting," born in the city of Florence, in 1240, of noble lineage, stood forth in bold relief, as having given " the first light to the art of painting." It is true that other artists of considerable merit, who lived before Cimabue, had founded schools at Pisa and Sieima : schools derived from crusades in the East, from whence some Grecian artists had been brought to Pisa, who followed exclusively the Byzantine form ; but, as Fusel i well expresses it, — " Cimabue is considered as the father of Italian art, because with him legitimate history and a less interrupted series of dates begin ; because he succeeded better than his predecessors in disentangling himself from the shackles of Greek barbarity, and chiefly because he discovered and called forth the genius of Giotto.' . 1 88 GIOTTO The mantle of Cimabue fell upon Giotto, a poor shepherd boy, the contemporary of Dante, and gave to art in the fourteenth century an air of greater certaint)'. Giotto, though not the inventor, was the restorer of portrait painting ; and, says FuseH, " resemblance, with character of face and attitude, date from him." Giotto died in 1336, and was followed by a succession of great painters, who glorified Italy until the end of the fifteenth century, " Historians, biographers, and poets unite," writes Fuseli, "in dating a new period from Masaccio," who was born in 1402 ; but before him came Fra Angelico, who, however, survived him twenty-eight years. Then followed Ghirlandaio, Mantegna, Francia, Perugino, the master of Raphael, Pinturicchio, and Fra Bartolomeo, to be succeeded by Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Titian, and Correggio, when art reached nearly to perfection. For another century, the teaching and examples of these great men influenced their pupils and followers, and the Carracci arrested for some time the decline of art. They were succeeded by the men whose lives we are about to consider this evening, and who, embracing a new mannerism, hastened the decay of the now nearly extinct eclectic ischool. Kiigler has remarked, that "with the close of the seventeenth century all independence of feeling had van- ished from almost every school " [of Italian art] ; and that " contemporary with this coiTuption of art, we remark a general decline of Italian power in every department — politics, church, and literature." Allori and Carlo Dolci were Florentines ; Sassoferrato and Carlo Maratti, Romans ; and Salvator Rosa and !■)' ALLORI 189 Giordano, Neapolitans. Allori and Sassoferrato were of the eclectic school, anu followers of the Carracci, but the latter was only sixteen years of age when Allori died, and therefore they could not have had much intercourse, or influence on each other. Sassoferrato and Carlo Dolci were very similar in their style and finish, and the former was considered to hold the same rank in the Roman, which the latter did in the Florentine school. Salvator Rosa ex- celled in wild and savage landscape. Carlo Maratti studied closely the works of the Carracci, and has the high honour of having arrested for a time the decay of art in Rome. Giordano was the most prolific and expeditious of painters, and a great colourist, who sacrificed his genius at the shrine of ease and wealth. All, with the exception of Allori, were contemporaries, and well acquainted with each other; and 'heir lives are interesting, as illustrating a period when the last glimmering of bright and glorious light was soon to be extinguished in the gloomy night of darkness and decay. The genius ot Italy may now be extinct, but the light, which once shone so brightly there, has cast its rays over the whole world, to enliven, beautify, and restore the love of art to the nations of mankind. Christoforo Allori, the son of AUessandro Allori, a painter of inferior renown, was bom at Florence in 1577, and was sometimes called Bronzino, after his great uncle. He was one of the eclectic school, and was one of the best artists of his time, and in some of his works is infinitely superior to the manner of his contemporaries, discovering originality and genius in many of his pictures. 1 90 ALLORI He left his father to study under Gregorio Pagani, one of the reformers of the Florentine school, and a good colourist. He had a dislike to the anatomical school of Michael Angelo, to which his father belonged ; but, adhering to that of Correggio, declared that in painting his father was a heretic. He was fastidious in the execution of his work, and ex- ceedingly elaborate, his style being well suited to portraits, in which he excelled, and they were reckoned valuable even when the subjects were unknown. He was also a skilful landscape painter, and formed some landscape painters; but few of them remained long with him, most of them being disgusted r.t the dissipation of the master. He is said to have excelled all other artists of his t me, by his neat and firm touch, and by the exquisite figures which he introduced into his landscapes. His pictures are not numerous. In the National Gallery, London, there is only one, and that not particularly good. Portrait of a Lady. I know of none in Berlin, Dresden, or Munich, and we must go to Florence to see him in perfection. The Uffizi Gallery and Pitti Palace are rich in his works. In the former, there is a splendid Marriage of Cana, a very good Portrait of Tasso, the Magdalen, copied from Cor- regglo's fine picture at Dresden \ the Infant Jesus Asleep on the Cross, a particularly beautiful picture ; the Adoration of the Magi ; Judith with the Head of Holof ernes, a repetition of the picture in the Pitti Palace ; the Virgin with the Infant fesus, and the Lord's Supper. In the Pitti Palace is his masterpiece, Judith with the Head of Holofernes, a grand picture, full of expression, most minutely and beautifully finished, and colouring perfect. She is a beautiful and splendidly-attired woman, with a grand, enthusiastic expres- ftt i* SASSOFERRATO 191 sion. Kiigler says : — " The countenance is wonderfully fine, and conveys all that the loftiest poetry can express in the character of Judith." It is said that Judith represents the portrait of his mistress, while her mother appears in the character of Abra, and the head of Holofernes is that of the painter, who permitted his beard to grow for this pur- pose. There are several repetitions of this picture, parti- cularly a very fine one in the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna. In the Louvre, there is an animated and truthful historical picture, Isabella of Milan Pleading with Charles VIII. for Peace for her Father; and in the Pitti Palace, in addition to the Judith, several fine pictures — the Portrait of a Man, the Adoration of the Shepherds, the Hospitality of St Julien, a magnificent picture ; the Sacrifice of Abraham, St John in the Desert, and Portrait of Cardinal Ferdinand de Medici, AUori died at Florence in 162 1, aged only forty-four years. his Giovanni Battista Salvi, commonly called, after his birth- place, Sassoferrato, was born nth July 1605. He first studied under his father, Tarquinio Salvi, in his native place, then in Rome, and afterwards in Naples. It is supposed that he adopted the manner of Domenichino, and may have studied under that artist when he visited Naples. At all events, he was a follower and imitator of the Carracci ; and, in style and subject, his works bear a considerable resem- blance to those of Carlo Dolci, though not as elaborately finished. Kiigler says : — " He is, however, a tolerably inde- pendent artist, free from the ideal feebleness end emptiness of the later followers of the Carracci. He raiher imitated, and not without success, the older masters of the beginning 192 SASSOFERRATO 1 of the sixteenth century, and har, indeed, a certain affinity with them in his peculiar, but not ahvays unaffected gentle- ness of mien. His own original pictures have no particular depth, but are smooth, pleasing, and often of great sweetness of expression, which occasionally degenerates into senti- mentality. The Madonna and Child was his constant sub- ject. Lanzi says : — " Though not possessing the ideal beauty of the Greeks, he has yet a style of countenance peculiarly appropriate to the Virgin, in which an air of humility pre- dominates ; and the simplicity of the dress, and the attire of the head corresponds with the expression of the features, without, at the same time, lessening the dignity of her charac- ter. He painted with a flowing pencil, was varied in his colouring, had a fine relief and chiaroscuro ; but in his local tints he was somewhat hard. He delighted most in design- ing heads with a part of the bust, which frequently occur in collections. His portraits are very often the size of life ; and of that size, or larger, is a Madonna, by him, with the Infant Christ, in the Casali Palace at Rome. The picture of the Rosario that he painted, at St Sabina, is one of the smallest pictures in Rome. It is, however, well composed, and con- ducted with his usual spirit, and is regarded as a gem." Sassoferrato's pictures are not numerous, as he finished them with great care and minuteness. In the National Gallery, London, there are two, both fine pictures, the Madonna in Prayer and the Madonna with the Infant Christ. In the Museum of Berlin there are several, Johanna of Arragon, Copy after Raphael^ St Joseph with Infant Christy Christ mourned by His Adherents, and a Holy Family, In the Royal Gallery of Dresden, there are three pictures, ^ S ALVA TOR ROSA 193 the best being the Virgin, and Infant yesus Asleep in Her Arms and the Virgin in Prayer, The Royal Gallery, at Munich, contains only one, the Holy Virgin Fraying, but it is a beautiful picture, and in his best manner. There is a very fine picture in the Uffizi Gallery, at Florence, the Sorrmvful Virgin ; but none of his pictures are in the Pitti Palace. There are two good pictures in the Brera, at Milan — the Virgin, beautifully clear and fine, and the Virgin, and Infant Jesus Sleeping ; above, a Glory of Cherubims. There is only one in the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna — but an excellent picture — Virgin, and yesus Asleep on her Knees. In the Vatican, there is the Virgin and Child seated on the Moon, sut rounded by Angels, a very clear and excellent com- position ; and in the Palazzo Borghese, Rome, a Madonna and Child, in his best manner. There is also an excellent Holy Family in the Palazzo Doria Pamphili, and a very good Madomia in the Palazzo Colonna. Sassoferrato died at Rome, 8th August 1685. Salvacor Rosa was born at Borgo di Renella, near Naples, 2ist July 1615. He adopted painting as a profession, contrary to the desire of his father, who was an architect. His first instructor was Ciccio Fracanzano, a relation. Afterwards, he studied under Spagnoletto, and soon left him to enter the studio of Aniello Falcone. He, however, appears to have followed the manner of Caravaggio, as, in historical compositions, he attached himself to the strong natural and dark colouring of that master. N 194 SALVATOR ROSA He displayed great versatility, as, besides being a poet and musician, he painted history, landscape and marine views, and portraits. Kugler says : — " Salvator is very great in portrait ; in this department, also, he followed the naturalisti. The wild, gloomy portrait of a man in armour, in the Pitti Palace, is almost comparable to Rembrandt. In battle pieces, he improved on the manner of Aniello Falcone, and occa- sionally produced excellent works of this kind. In landscape, Salvator Rosa appears to have formed his style with tolerable independence. It was not till his later Florentine j)criod, that we fancy we trace the inPuence of Claude Lorraine." Salvator began to lead a very wandering life, travelling through the Basilicata, Apulia, and Calabria, and studied with attention the romantic situation of these wild regions ; and the various ruin-crowned heights of the Monte Gorgano, the picturesque haven of Bari, the sea-beaten cliffs of San Vito, and the grottoes of Polagnano, or the wild scenery of La Cava, a district abounding in features of wild and savage grandeur. The most remarkable incident in the rambles of Salvator was his being taken prisoner by banditti, and his subsequent voluntary association with such desperate out- casts. He wandered sometime with these unfortunate men, and at last appeared at Naples, at the time when the intrigues of Spagnoletto, and the other artists of the cabal, had become dangerous to the artists opposed to them. In addition to this, the position in which he found his family almost plunged him into despair. A few days after his arrival, his father. Vito Antonio, expired in his arms, and bequeathed to a helpless youth of eighteen the care of his numerous and necessitous family. SALVATOR ROSA 195 The poverty of Salvator was very great, and at this time lie was unable to purchase canvas for his pictures, and was compelled to paint them on oiled paper; and the young, and almost unknown, landscape painter had diffi- culty in competing with Spagnoletto, Lanfranco, and Domenichino. The neglect which Salvator experienced in his native country induced him to visit Rome, and there he arrived in 1634. Having been unsuccessful in disposing of his pictures there, he returned to Naples; but owing to the great applause with which his picture of Tityiis torn by the Vulture was received by the connoisseurs of Rome, he finally settled in that capital of the arts in 1638. Ruskin is very full of Salvator Rosa, and I make no apology in (juoting so freely from his very interesting and able remarks on that great artist. He says : — " In Salvator the imagination is vigorous, the composition dexterous and clear, as in the St Jerome of the Brera (Jallery, the Diogenes of the Pitti, and the picture of the Guodagni Palace. All are rendered valueless by coarseness of feeling and habitual non-reference to nature. Salvator possesses real genius, but was crushed by misery in his youth, and by fashionable society in his age. He had vigorous animal life and con- siderable invention, but no depth either of thought or per- ception. He took some hints directly from nature, and expressed some conditions of the grotesque of terror with original power ; but his baseness of thought and bluntness of sight were unconquerable, and his works possess no value whatsoever for any person versed in the walks of noble art. They had little, if any, influence on Turner ; if any, it was in blinding him for some time to the grace of tree trunks, ill 1 r r 196 S ALVA TOR ROSA I i and making him tear them too much into splinters. Born with a wild and coarse nature (how coarse 1 will show you soon), but nevertheless an honest one, he set himself in youth hotly to the war, and cast himself carelessly on the current of life. No rectitude of ledger lines stood in his way, no tender preciseness of household customs, no calm successions of rural labour. But past his half-stormed lijjs rolled profusion of pitiless wealth ; before him glowed and swept the troops of shameless pleasure ; above him muttered Vesuvius ; beneath his feet shook the Salfatara. In heart disdainful, in temper adventurous, conscious of power, im- patient of labour, and yet more of the pride of the patron of his youth, he fled to the Calabrian hills, seeking not knowledge, but freedom. If he was to be surrounded by cruelty and deceit, let them at least be those of brave men or savage beasts, not of the timorous and the contemptible. Better the wrath of the robber than enmity of the priest, and the cunning of the wolf than of the hyi^ocrite. I see in him, notwithstanding all his baseness, the last trace of spiritual life in the Art of Europe. . . . The religion of the earth is a horror to him. He gnashes his teeth at it, rages at it, mocks and gibes at it. He would have acknow- ledged religion had he seen any that was true. Anything rather than that baseness which he did see. If there is no other religion than this of Pope and Cardinals, let us to the robber's ambush and the dragon's den. . . . Helpless Salvator ! a little early sympathy, a word of true guidance, perhaps, had saved him. What says he of himself? Despair of wealth and of death. Two grand scorns ; but, oh ! con- demned Salvator, the question is not for man what he can scorn, but what he can love ! " 'ii SALVATOR ROSA 197 Horn o\v you nsc'If in on the \ in his no calm ncd lips ved and nuttered [n heart wer, ini- i patron :ing not nded by ive men imptible. e priest, ;. I see trace of :ligion of ;th at it, acknow- \nything ere is no us to the Helpless [uidance, Despair oh ! con- ,t he can "Wliat is most to be admired in the works of Salvator Rosa,' says Sir Joshua Reynolds, "is the perfect corre- spondence which he observed between the subjects which K' chose and his manner of treating them. Everything is of a piece : his rocks, trees, sky, even to his handling, have the same rude and wild character which animates his figures." And Fuscli says: — "He delights in ideas of desolation, solitude, and danger, impenetrable forests, rocky or storm- lashed shores, in lonely dells leading to dens and caverns of banditti, alpine ridges, trees blasted by lightning or sapped by time, or stretching their extravagant arms athwart a murky sky, lowering or thundering clouds, and suns shorn of their beams. His figures are wandering shepherds, for- lorn travellers, wrecked mariners, banditti lurking for their prey or dividing their spoils." Salvator was surrounded by many friends in Rome, who were pleased with his wit and talent ; but his bitter sarcasms and severe satire raised up a still greater number of enemies. The Academy of St Luke, of which he was a member, came in for a fair share of his ridicule. On one occasion, the leading members refused admission to a candidate, on the ground of his being at the same time a surgeon. Salvator remarked that he was the very man they wanted, in order to set right the distorted limbs of their figures. Many of Salvator Rosa's pictures are in private galleries in England, but there is only one in the National Gallery, London, and that not particularly good — Landscape, with Mercury and the Dishonest Wood/nan. In the Berlin Museum there are several, none particularly good — the Artists oivn Portrait, Sea Piece, and Landscape. T iii: n 198 SALVATOR ROSA The same remark will apply to two in the Royal Galler>-, Dresden — Tempest at Night, and Artisfs oiun Portrait. In the Royal Gallery, Munich, there are six of his pictures, but none of great merit. In the Ufifizi Gallery, Florence, there is a good Land- scape, and the Pitti Palace is rich in possessing thirteen or fourteen of his pictures, some of them the best productions of the master. There are two magnificent sea pieces, one particularly fine. Of this picture Ruskin says : — " On the right hand of one of the marine of Salvator, in the Pitti Palace, there is a passage of sea reflecting the sunrise, which is thoroughly good, and very like Turner; the rest of the picture, as the one opposite to it, utterly viitueless." The Cataline Conspiracy is also here, and A Great Battle, a very fine large picture ; also Portrait of Himself, A War- rior, A Poet, Landscape, 7uith View of Sea, Temptation of St Anthony, and Landscape. In the Brera, at Milan, St Paul, the First Hermit, is finely painted, with grand landscape ; and in the Museum, at Naples, there is a good picture, Christ Disputing with the Doctors. In the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, there are several pictures — A Battle, IVarrior, and Combat of Cavalry. In Prince Lichtenstein's Gallery there is a good picture, Hero and Leander ; and in the Palazzo Corsini. at Rome, there is one of his most extraordinary works, Pro- metheus Devoured by the Vulture. It is a very grand, powerful, and dreadful-looking picture. It is a painful and rather revolting subject, treated with wonderful effect. Salvator Rosa died at Rome, 15th March 1673. ^^^ wife and one of two sons survived him. He was buried in the Church degli Angeli, and over his tomb was placed his CARLO DO LCI 199 portrait and eulogy. His tomb is in the circular vestibule, as well as that of Carlo Maratti. Carlo Dolci was born in Florence, in 16 16. His father, Andrew, his grandfather and uncle by his mother's side, Pietro and Bartolomeo Minari, were all painters, much esteemed in their native city. At the age of four years he had tiie misfortune to lose his father ; and his mother, having a numerous family to support, placed him, when he was only nine years old, with Jacopo Vignoli, who had studied in the school of Rosselli, and acc^uired great repu- tation as a teacher. In a few years he could paint so well that he attracted the attention of Pietro de Medici, who introduced him to the Court of Florence, where he soon found const: nt employment. Lanzi sa5s: — "Dolci holds the same rank in the Floren- tine that Sassoferrato holds in the Roman school. Both, though destitute of great powers of invention, obtained high reputation for Madonnas and similar small subjects, which have now become extremely valuable . . . Carlo is not so celebrated for beauty (for he was, like his master, a mere "naturalist"), as for the exquisite pains with which he finished everything, and the genuine expression of certain affecting emotions, such as the patient suffering of Christ, or of the Virgin Mary, the penetential compunction of a saint, or the holy confidence of a martyr devoting himself as a victim for the Living God. The colouring and general tone of his pictures accord with the idea of the passion . nothing is turgid or bold ; all is modesty, repose, and placid harmony." Kiigler remarks that "he is distinguished from Sasso- ■r" 200 CARLO DOLCI ferrato by a greater degree of sentimentality, which is some- times pleasing, but it frequently degenerates into insipidity and affectation. His works are not rare in galleries. . . , Carlo Dolci repeats himself often, and introduces the same model in various forms." Carlo Dolci from the first determined to paint nothing but sacred subjects. Baldinucci attributes his excellence to a special gift from heaven as the reward of his pious inten- tentions. There are numerous pictures by Carlo Dolci in l)rivate galleries in England, and in the Royal collection, but there are none in the National Gallery, London. Only one in the ISIuseum, at Berlin, a good St John the Evangelist. In the Royal Gallery, at Dresden, there are three fine pictures — the St Cecilia, very beautiful; Herodias with the Head of John the Baptist, also very fine ; and The Saviour Consecrating the Bread a?id JVine. The Royal Gallery of Munich contains seven pictures, all good examples of this master — BToly Family, a Vo?i/!g Girl, the Symbol of Innocence, Embracing a Lamb, a Mag- dalen, St Agnes with a Palm, an Ecce Homo, etc. In the Ufiizi Gallery there are some beautiful pictures — the Virgin and Infant Christ, St Mary Magdalen, and St Gall Placidia. The Pitti Palace is very rich in Dolci's works, containing sixteen or seventeen of his works; among others, I may mention — Head of St Peter, Head of Simon, St Peter Weeping over his Faults, Head of Moses, Portrait of a Man, an Ecce Homo, St Casimer, Diogenes, St John the Baptist Asleep, and St John the Evangelist. In the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, there is a lovely Virgin and Child ; and in the Lichtenstein Gallery, v» MARATTI 201 a good Head. The Palazzo Borghese has the Head of the Saviour, a small picture, but very clear and beautiful ; and a Madonna and Child. And the Palazzo Corsini is rich in his works, possessing the St Agnes, a lovely picture ; Madonna and Child, St Apollonia, an Ecce Homo, and a Magdalen. About the year 1670 he was invited to Innspuck, to paint the portrait of Claudia, daughter of Ferdinand of Austria. On his return, he became subject to attacks of melancholy, which continued at intervals till his death. He left behind him one son, who entered into holy orders, and seven daughters, one of whom, Agnese, was a good artist, and follower of the style of her father, but not his equal. Carlo Dolci died in 1686. li 1: ( 11 Carlo Maratti or Maratta was born at Camurano, between Loreto and Ancona, 15th May 1625. He went early to Rome, where he entered the school ot Andrea Sacchi, and soon became the most distinguished pupil of that macter. Raphael Mengs says : — " A little after came Carlo Maratti; who, aspiring to perfection, sought it in the works of other painters, and particularly those of the Carracci. Although he applied all his study to be natural, one knows by him- self that he was in the preoccupation of not following his own simplicity. This maxim he extended to all the parts of the art, and, with that, has given to his school (which has been the last at Rome) a certain style of nicety and affectation. ... To -Andrea Sacchi succeeded Carlo Maratta, his disciple, who applied himself much to design the works of Raphael in the Vatican, and took even from 202 MARATTI I his youth the love of serious and exact study ; but the general taste of his time did not permit him to follow entirely the character of Raphael, and the opportunity of always painting Madonnas and altar pieces carried him to a mixed style of those of the Carracci and Guido, and thus sustained the painting of Rome, and prevented its decay as in other countries." After the deaths of Pietro da Cortona and Sacchi, he was for nearly half a century the most eminent painter in Rome. He was honoured with the favour of six successive Popes — Clements IX. and X., Innocent XL, Alexander VIII., Inno- cent XI I. , and Clement XL He was appointed superin- tendent of the Vatican by Innocent XL ; and in 1702 and 1703 he restored, with the sanction of Clement XL, the frescoes of Raphael there, which had fallen into decay. Lanzi says : — " He was most attached by inclination to the painting of cabinet pictures and altar pieces. His Madonnas possess a modest, lively, and dignified air; his angels are graceful ; and his saints are distinguished by their fine heads, a character of devotion, and are clothed in the sumptuous costume of the Church. Though he had devoted the early part of his life to the acquisition of a pure style of design, he did not think himself sufficiently accom- plished in it, and again returned, when advanced in years, to the study of Raffaello, of whose excellences he possessed himself, without losing sight of the Carracci and Guido. But many are of opinion that he fell into a style too elabo- rate, and sacrificed the spirit of his compositions to minute care." He was not a great fresco painter, but still he occa- sionally engaged in works of that description, and undertook MARATTI 203 the decoration of the Ducmo of Urbino, which he covered with figures. This work, with the cupola itself, was de- stroyed by an earthquake in 1782; but the sketches for it are preserved in Urbino in four pictures, in the Albani Palace. From his frec^uent pictures of the Virgin, he acquired the name of Carlo delle Madonne. His pictures are generally correctly designed, but want force, and are not famed for any particular excellence. He, however, arrested the decline of art in Italy towards the close of the seventeenth century, and deserves our grateful recollection as one of the latest of those great painters, whose light was so soon to be extin- guished in tlie general darkness and decay of art in that beautiful country. The principal works of this artist are in Rome, but there are several of his best pictures in England — in the gallery of the Duke of Marlborough, at Blenheim, in the gallery at Holkham, in the collection of the Duke of Sutherland at Stafford House, and in the Royal collection. In the National Gallery, London, diere is one picture, Portrait of Cardinal Ccrri. In the Museum, at Berlin, there are no striking pictures. I may mention two : St Anthony Worshiping the Infant Christy and the Ascension of Mary. In the Royal Gallery, at Dresden, there are three : one, the Virgin, and Infant Jesus Asleep in her Arms, and two other Scriptural subjects, but none good. There are three in Munich, one in the Uffizi Gallery, and one in the Pitti Palace — St Philip's Neri — but none requiring j)articular notice. In the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, there are nine of his works — the best being, the Virgin and Infant fesus, The Trifiity, and Death of St Joseph. '\ ' I I. '■ 1 I i IN i S '.II s I 204 ZC/CA GIORDANO In Prince Lichtcnstein's Gallery, at Vienna, there is a good Venus at the Bath, The Palazzo Corsini is rich in the finest pictures of this artist ; amongst others, the Marriage of St Catherine, a Holy Family, an Annunciation, another Annun- ciation, the Virgin afid Infant Jesus, and The Trinity. Carlo Alaratti died at Rome, 15th December 17 13, at the advanced age of eighty-eight, and was buried in the vesti- bule of the church of St Maria degli Angeli, near the grave of Salvator Rosa. He had a daughter whom he instructed in his own art, and her portrait executed by herself, in a painting attitude, is to be seen in the Corsini Gallery, at Rome. Luca Giordano, surnamed Fa Presto, was born in Naples in 1632. He was son of Antonio Giordano, a painter of very ordinary ability. This master, though he did not excel his contemporaries in style, was a favourite of fortune, for which he was indebted in a great measure, to his talents, confidence, and great powers of invention, "which," Lanzi says, " Carlo Maratti considered unrivalled and unprece- dented." Kiiglcr says : — " No painter ever made a worse use of extraordinary gifts — beauty, character, dramatic life, glow of colouring — all occur from time to time in the most striking way in his pictures, but a slight and rapid mode ot finish was all he cared for, and he sacrificed every other quality to it. His father placed him first under the instructions ot Spagnoletto, and afterwards under Cortona, in Rome, and having visited all the best schools of Italy, he returned to Naples with many valuable designs and new ideas. His father was an indifferent painter, and being obliged in Rome LUC A GIORDANO 205 to subsist by his son's labours, whose drawings were in great request, the only principle that he instilled into him was one dictated by necessity — despatch. Fuseli thus writes about Giordano : — " The fascinating, but debauched and empty, facility of Luca Giordano j " and: — "Luca Giordano, nick- named Fa Presto, or Dispatch, from the rapidity of his execution, the greatest machinist of his time ; " and again:- - "After the middle of the seventeenth century, the revolu- tionary style of Luca Giordano reversed every preceding principle, and, by the suavity of its ornamental magic, enchanted the public taste. A vast, resolute, creative talent attended him from infancy ; in his eighth year he is said to have painted, and not for the first time, in fresco, two infant angels, for the church of St Maria La Nuova. Struck with wonder, the Vice Re' Duke Medina de Las Torres placed him with Ribera, whose principles he studied for some time, but, aspiring to a more ample theatre of art, escaped to Rome, followed by his father, Antonio, a weak artist, but an unceas- ing monitor ; and the more relentless, because he placed all his hopes on the rapid success of his son. To insure it, he did not, if we believe one \mter, suffer Luca to intermit his labours by regular meals, but fed him whilst at work, as birds their callow young, perpetually chirping into his ear, — Luca, dispatch I 'Luca, dispatch!' repeated his fellow-students, till the joke became a nickname, by which he is oftener dis- tinguished than by his own." Giordano had an almost universal facility of design, and extraordinary talent for imitacing every known manner, the consequence of his tenacious memory, which retained every- thing he had once seen. There are numerous instances of pictures painted by him in the style of Albert Diirer, Bassano, 1 1 I 'li «! ! . I 1^1 '' 1 206 LUC A GIORDANO Titian, and Rubens, which he imposed on connoisseurs as originals of those masters. And these pictures are valued by dealers at more than double or triple the price of pictures of his own composition. He painted, for the Manfrini family of Venice, the Fortune, taken from Guido's picture, and it is difficult to decide which to prefer. Raphael Mengs says : — " The paintings of Lucas Giordano are almost infinite, and one might say that he has never made a thing absolutely bad, because one always finds in his works a certain taste, but after the manner of an embryo of the excellent things done by celebrated men in the schools of Italy. He never arrived to perfection in any- thing, from whence it arises that his style has not been able to suffer any diminution without falling into the most ordinary style of painting; it was formed in that degree which he wished to follow. . . . The works of Lucas Giordano are, generally speaking, of two kinds, although he made them various by imitating one and another particular painter. Some of his paintings are of a powerful colour, imitating something of Ribera, of whom he learnt the pro- fession in his first years ; but his more general style, and most natural to his character, which one observes in his best works, is that which he took from Peter of Cortona." Giordano was honoured with the notice of his sovereign ; and Cosmo IH., in whose presence he invented and coloured a large composition with momentary velocity, declared him a painter formed for princes. He obtained similar praise from Charles II. of Spain, whom he served for thirteen years, but, from the multitude of his works, might be sup- posed to have served during a long life. Naples abounds with the works of Giordano, both public LUC A GIORDANO 207 and private. There is scarcely a church in that large city whicli docs not contain some work by him. There is one in San Martino, at Nai)les, the Tniimph of Judith, which is said to have been painted by him in forty-eight hours, when he was seventy-tv^o years of age. The National Gallery, London, does not possess any of his pictures ; and the Museum of Berlin, only one of importance, the Judgment of Fan's. The Royal Gallery of Dresden has twenty of his pictures, but none of great merit, except Jacob a?id Rachel at the Well. The Royal Gallery of Munich contains eleven — two good — Portrait of the Father of the Artist, and Fort rait of the Artist. The Uffizi Gallery, Florence, is without any of his pic- tures ; and the Pitti Palace, in the same city, contains only one, the Immaculate Conceptiofi of the Virgin. There is a good picture in the Brera, at Milan, the Virgin and Child, St Anthony of Fadua, St Joseph, and Many Angels and Cheruhims. In the Museum, at Naples, there is a wonderfully bright and clear, and lovely picture, the Virgin of the Rosary with Saints. The Academy, at Venice, has the Descent from the Cross ; the only one by the artist in the collection. It is painted with great power and vigour. The Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, possesses thirteen of Giordano's pictures. I shall only allude to one of surpassing excellence, the Archa?igel Michael precipitating the Rebellious Angels to the Bottomless Pit. This magnificent painting is most striking, and full of force and beauty. The figures are life size. The archangel Michael is descending 208 LUC A GIORDANO ' ll .1 i in majesty from heaven, with a flashing sword in his hand, with Hght streaming down from above. Numbers of angelic children are hovering round him. His wings are extended, and his right foot is touching the neck of one of the fallen angels, while others are falling and looking up in dismay. The colouring is bright and clear, and the shadows below, in the yawning gulph, awfully dark and horrible. The Palazzo Corsini, at Rome, has Christ Disputing loith the Doctors; and there are others in many private collections. In his old age, Giordano returned to his native place, loaded with honours and riches, and died in 1705, lamented and regretted as the greatest genius of his age. His school produced few masters of merit \ most of them were careless in design, agreeing with the maxims of their master, that a painter should endeavour to please the public, and their favour is more easily won by colour than by cor- rect and pure composition \ therefore, without much atten- tion to the latter, they gave themselves entirely to facility of hand, and thus greatly hastened the decay of Art in Italy. " And even since, and now, fair Italy ! Thou art the garden of the world, the home Of all Art yields, and Nature can decree ; Even in thy desert, what is lil^e to thee ? Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste More rich than other clime's fertility ; Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced. " t *i I ?*^V ^. ! ( J LECTURE VII. (jUINTIN MATSYS, ALBERT PURER, LUCAS CRANACH, HANS HOLBEIN We are about to consider this evening the lives and works of four great contemporary painters. One, Quintin Matsys, of the Flemish school ; the other three — Albert Diirer, Lucas Cranach, and Hans Holbein, the younger — the evangelists of the German nation in Art. Diirer and Cranach may be called the painters of the Reformation, and Holbein the missionary to England. These four great painters were well known to each other. Diirer and Cranach were born almost in the same year ; Matsys and Diirer died within two years of each other; and Cranach and Holbein within a year of each other ; and they all lived in happy in- tercourse through the stormy period of the Reformation, holding intimate converse, not only with the great leaders of Protestantism — Luther, IMelanchthon, Erasmus, Carlstadt, Bugenhagen, Frederick the Wise, John the vSteadfast, and and Frederick the Magnanimous, Electors of Saxony — but with their distinguished opponents, Margaret of Austria, regent of the Netherlands, Maximilian I. of Bavaria, Charles V. of Spain, with the great and good Sir Thomas o , 3 Ji i; il '.n 1 i 1 ll 1 1 ^f il s ! " I , ' 210 MATSYS More, a martyr for his faith, and with the tyrant who so cruelly executed him, Henry VIII. of England. A record of Quintin Matsys' life is valuable, as showing the state of art in the Low Countries at the period of the great revival in Italy by the advent of Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Titian. Matsys was born only twenty-one years later than Da Vinci, eight years before Michael Angelo, eleven years before 'I'itian, and seventeen before Raphael ; and he survived both Leonardo da Vinci and Raphael ten years. Bearing these dates in mind, it will be seen that Matsys was to the Low Countries, and Diirer, Cranach, and Holbein to Cermany, what these great artists were to Italy — the restorers of art to a cheerful and natural form and development ; not, of course, to the same extent, or with the same genius, but in some degree following their example, almost intuitively. No artists of excellence or importance arose in the Low Countries between Matsys and Rubens, a period of nearly a century, unless we except Van Orley, Mabuse, Franz Floris, Martin de Vos, and Otho Venius, the last chiefly known as the master of Rubens. All these artists must be considered inferior to Matsys, and no artists have arisen since the days of Rubens, Vandyck, and Rembrandt, to raise the school of the Netherlands to its pristine vigour. Taking, therefore, this sketch of Matsys in connection with that of Rubens, Vandyck, and Rembrandt, you have a clear record and perception of the state of art in the Low Countries, from its rise under Matsys to its brilliant mid-day splendour under Rubens and his great contemporaries, and its gradual decay after those bright luminaries had passed away. * > MATSYS 211 The first quarter of the sixteenth century witnessed the rise of the best painters of Germany, whilst, as I have already mentioned, the same period produced the master works of Italian art. There cannot be a c[uestion as to the vast influence which the works of Albert Diirer have had in perpetuating the character of the German school, both of painters and engravers, among whom he is still regarded as their great founder, and followed with all due veneration. And parallel to Diirer and his school stands the school of Saxony, with Lucas Cranach at its head, and Holbein, the younger, who did so much for art in England, but whose pure example was lost amidst the turbulence of the times in which he lived. Little is known of any of the predecessors of those artists, but it is inferred that the art had diffused itself in Saxony and the neighbouring States to a consider- able extent at the beginning of the sixteenth century. Since the days of Diirer, Cranach, and Holbein, no great painters have arisen in Germany; though, perhaps, I may, with con- siderable hesitation, except Sir Godfrey Kneller, in the seventeenth, and Angelica Kaufmann and Loutherbourg, in the eighteenth centuries. Quintin Matsys, second son of Josse Metsys and his wife, Catharine de Kynkem, or, as it is variously written, Messys, Messis, or Metsys, known also as the Smith of Antwerp, was bom at Louvain, in Brabant, in 1466. He was brought up, it is said, to the same trade as his father, who was a blacksmith, and distinguished for his skill in making or- namental ironwork. At Louvain and neighbourhood, and also in Antwerp, where he settled in 1490, there are still shown several good specimens in wrought iron said to have I 1 *'■ ill fill 212 MATSYS f^^! M ' been made by him. On the outside of the cathedral ot Antwerp, near the foot of the tower, there is an old draw- well, now a pump, covereci with a broken Gothic canopy of iron, which tradition says is the handy work of Quintin Matsys, who, having fallen in love with a painter's daughter, changed his profession to obtain her father's consent to their marriage, and succeeded even better with the palette and pencil than he had with the forge and hammer. He received some instruction from Roger Vander Weyden, the younger, and became the most distinguished painter of the city, raising the school of Antwerp to a celebrity equal to that of Bruges. Kiigler says : — " His most important work is an altar piece, formerly in the cathedral, now in the Academy of Antwerp, which he undertook in the year 1508. The centre represents the body of Christ after the descent from the cross, mourned over by His friends and the holy women : the Virgin, sunk in the deepest grief, is supported by John ; two venerable old men, Joseph of Arimathea and Nico- demus, sustain the head and the upper part of the body ; whilst the holy women anoint the wounds of the Saviour. The figures are nearly the size of life, and so arranged that each appears distinct and significant. On the right wing the head of John the Baptist is placed on the table of Herod, whilst musicians — absurd and disagreeable figures — play on an elevated platform. On the left wing is John the Evangelist in the cauldron of boiling oil, and the execu- tioners, who, with brutal jests, stir up the fire, whilst the spectators are disputing. This picture is highly finished in execution, full of reality, and profound in the development of individual character. In the mourning figures of the iw "w^'.^j iLj, .)i -mfi MATSYS 213 centre division, a fine pathetic feeling is expressed in all its various degrees. In these qualities it might stand by the side of the works of Leonardo da Vinci, if it also possessed the repose and the beauty of form which characterise that master, and were it not that something abrupt and violent betrays a struggle on the part of the artist to master his materials." Sir Joshua Reynolds says : — " There are heads in this picture not exceeded by Raphael, and, indeed, not unlike his manner of painting portraits — hard, and minutely finished. The head of Herod, and that of a fat man near Christ, are excellent." Pas.savant " compares it in some respects to the works of Leonardo da Vinci." It was painted for the altar of the chapel of the Joiners' Company, and was sold to the city in 1577 for fifteen hundred florins. Matsys only received for it the moderate sum of three hundred florins, about jQz^ sterling. This picture, like all the other works of the painter, is remarkable for careful finish, which he carried to perfection, in some instances rivalling the style of John Van Eyck. In other pictures, whose subi'^'^t excludes the pathetic, Quintin's style is softer, and exh "x-6 a peculiarly cheerful and fresh conception of life. Molanus has enumerated 78 works by, or ascribed to Quintin Matsys in various European collections; they are chiefly religious subjects, but he painted some portraits. There is one, a Male Portrait, in the Royal Gallery, at Berlin, and also the Virgin and Child. In addition to the picture already mentioned, in the Museum, at Antwerp, there is also another, the Head of Christ. In the Uffizi Gallery, ' I . i I 1' Q r I 214 MATSYS Florence, there is St Jerome ; in the palace of Count Haratch, at Turin, St Jerome, on wood ; in the Royal Gallery of Munich a picture cabled the Tax Gatherers^ and a copy of the picture in the Royal colloction, at Windsor, called the Misers. The picture in Windsor Castle is considered his masterpiece. There are several fine pic- tures in the Collection of the King of Holland. He rarely placed his signature on his pictures ; and where it does occur, his name is variously written. A Holy Family, in the Church of St Peter's, at Louvain, is signed 'Quintd Metsys, 1509' j a St Jerome, in Prince Lichten- stein's Gallery, at Vienna, has the signature * Quintin Matsys f. 1513'; and the picture of the Banker and His Wife, in the Gallery of the Louvre, is signed ' Quintin Matsyss, 15 18.' There is a picture in the National Gallery, London, called Salvator Mundi and the Virgin Mary. The Saviour holds in his left hand a crystal globe, surmounted by a golden cross ; with his right He is blessing. The Virgin has her hands joined in adoration. The figures are small life, bust size, on a gold ground, painted on wood, with circular tops to each panel. Quintin Matsys married twice. In the Uffizi Gallery, at Florence, there are portraits of himself, and of his second wife. His wife's is dated 1520, the year in which he was visited at Antwerp by Albert Diirer. Quintin died, in 1530, it is said of the "suette," in the Carthusian Convent, at Antwerp, where he was buried ; but Cornells Van der Geest removed his remains, a century afterwards, and had them re-buried in front of the cathe- dral. The spot is marked by the simple memorial ' M. Q. M. obiit 1529'; and in the wall of the Cathedral is a ALBERT DURER 215 slab with a Latin inscription, ending with " ConnubiaUs amor de Muliciebre fecit Apellem " — " 'Twas love connubial taught the smith to paint." Vasari speaks of one " Quintin, who came from the same country [Flanders], and who faithfully adhered to the truth of nature in all his figures, as did a son of his called Giovanni." His son, Jan Matsys, is known as his scholar, by whom there are several pictures extant. In the Vienna Gallery is a panel, signed "Joannes Masiis faciebat, 1564," but his pictures are of little interest, and greatly inferior to those of his parent. Albert or Albrecht Diirer was born at Nuremberg, 21st May 147 1. His father was a Hungarian goldsmith, a native of Cola, who during his early years had worked in the Low Countries, where he acquired the delicate style of ornamentation for which the goldsmiths of Bruges had become renowned ; but in 1445 he quitted Flanders, and made his way into Germany, establishing himself at Nuremberg, where he married a young female of that city, Barbara, the daughter of the Nuremberg goldsmith, Jerome Haller or Hellerin, who was the mother of Albert. Albert was the third of eighteen children by this marriage ; three only, however, attained to maturity. His mother survived till 15 14. Albert received the sound education which the opulent citizens of the free towns of Germany were in the habit of bestowirg on their children ; and in all branches of instruction he made great progress, especially in the practice of his father's profession, for which he was intended. He, however, at an early age, adopted painting as his profession, and was first apprenticed, in i486, with 'ft if I n' \ 216 ALBERT DURER Martin Schoen or Hiipsh, at Colmar; but as this master died shortly afterwards, he became the scholar of Michael Wolgemuth, a painter of Nuremberg, with whom he re- mained three years. It has been denied that he was apprenticed to Schoen, and there is reason to believe, from the autobiography of his own pen, that Michael Wolgemuth was his first master. He says : — " After having learnt to make pretty objects of jewellery, I find my inclination tends more to painting than the work of a goldsmith. I have mentioned this to my father, who is grieved at it, for he laments the loss of time expended in the acquisition of an art which I have no desire to follow. However, he acceded to my request; and in the year i486, on St Andrew's day, my father sent me on probation to Michael Wolgemuth for three years." Wolgemuth was a man of retired habits, not caring for praise in his art, but was of a devout nature, and a constant reader of his Bible, studying nature, and working at his profession, as if to fulfil a moral obligation. There is no doubt that Albert imbibed some portion of the mental character of his preceptor, with the art-lessons he learned, which developed itself in the after life of the artist. Albert was also instructed in arithmetic, perspective, and geometry; and then, as was the custom among the youth of Germany, travelled for four years, through Germany, Holland, and Italy. He went from town to town, painting for his livelihood whenever he could get sitters for portraits, and could find purchasers for the fancy pictures which he executed on his way. The young artist must have been happy in this mode of life, for it was considered no discredit, but the contrarj'-, and a wandering student found I ALBERT DURER 217 everywhere a welcome. Improved by experience, and with increased reputation, he returned home in 1494 ; and, on the 7th July in that year, married Agnes Frey, the pretty- daughter of a Nuremberg singer and player on the harp. " I went out," writes the artist himself, " after Easter in 1490, and I returned after the Pentecost in 1494, when I found that Hans Frey had agreed with my father to give me his daughter, Agnes, for a wife, with a portion of two hundred florins." To please his father the offer was accepted, but, as we shall find, it turned out a most unhappy union. If the portrait which Albert made, and which is still in existence, offers a correct resemblance of his wife, she possessed extraordinary personal attractions, but her beauty had an expression of disquietude and severity. She is said to have been imperious, avaricious, and fretful, constantly urging him to work, to make provision for her after his death. Arend quotes an old v/riter, who said : — " He received a dowry of 200 florins, but for which he had afterwards at least 2000 unhappy days." Kiigler says : — " In him the style of art already existing attained its most peculiar and its highest perfection. He became the representative of German art of this period. His spirit was rich and inexhaustible. Not content with painting and the other arts of design, he exerted his powers in the kindred studies of sculpture and archi- tecture ; he was gifted with a power of conception which traced nature through all her finest shades, and with a lively sense, as well for the solemn and the sublime, as for simple grace and tenderness ; above all, he bad an earnest and truthful feeling in art, united with a capacity for the I 'P II 2l8 ALBERT DURER I I i' severest study, such as is shown in the composition of his various theoretical works. These quaHties were sufficient to place him by the side of the greatest artists whom the world has ever seen. But he again was unable wholly to renounce the universal tendency to tlie fantastic, a tendency which essentially obstructed the pure development of his powers as an artist. His colouring has a peculiar brilliancy, and a beauty in itself far surpassing that of most other painters." One of his earliest works is the portrait, in the Uffizi Gallery, at Florence, of an aged man said to represent his father. It is an excellent head, true to the life and full of character. The date is 1490. His own portrait, in the same^ gallery, painted in 1498, is the oldest undoubted one. In 1498 appeared his woodcuts, illustrating the Revelation of St John. There are several of his pictures in the Royal Gallery, at Munich ; one particularly excellent, his own por- trait, done in 1500. In 1506 Durer made a journey into the nortli of Italy, and remained a considerable time at Venice. He then executed a picture which brought him great fame, and by its brilliant colouring silenced the asser- tion of his enemies, " that he was a good engraver, but knew not how to deal with colours." According to common account, this picture was a Martyrdom of St Bartholomeiu, and is said to have been in the rich gallery of the Emperor Rudolph II. in the beginning of the seventeenth century, but it has now disappeared. In the Belvedere Gallery, at Vienna, there are several of his works : Portrait, of the year 1507, of a young man, with a high colour — wonderfully beautiful, true to life, and finely painted ; the Martyrdom of the Ten Thousand Saints^ painted for Duke Frederick of ALBERT DURER 219 Saxony ; in the centre of this picture stand Durer and his friend, Pirckheimer, as spectators, both in black dresses. Durer has a mantle thrown over his shoulder in the Italian fashion, and stands in a firm attitude ; he folds his hands and holds a small flag, on which is inscribed, " Iste faciebat Anno Domini 1508, Albertus Dlirer Alemanus" ; the Holy Trinity Surrounded by a Glory of Angels^ Adored by Saints. In this very singular picture, painted (on wood) in 15 11, Diirer himself appears. There is also a Virgin and Child and Portrait of Jean Kleberger of Niwemberg, aged 40 years, painted in 1526 ; and a Pot-trait of the Emperor Maximilian /., painted in 15 19. In the tribune of the Uffizi Gallery, at Florence, there is an Adoration of the Ki?igs, bearing the monogram of Diirer, and the date 1509, finished with great care, and painted in bright colours. The heads are in a grand style. There are also two other remarkable pictures — St Philip the Apostle, and St James the Apostle. And in the Palazzo Corsini, at Rome, there is A Hare, very well and minutely painted. In 15 1 1 Diirer published three great series of woodcuts, some of which, as shown by their dates, had been executed in the two preceding years. These were the Greater and the Lesser Passion of Christ, and the life of the Virgin. Between the years 1507 and 1513, but principally in 1512, was executed the great series of small copperplates which contain a third representation of the Passion of Christ. As an engraver, he was, perhaps, superior to all men of his time in the practical execution of his work. Some of his engravings, which I shall now notice, are quite, if not more interesting than the greater part of the pictures just de- scribed. The first of these is the celebrated print of The p — /, -^-^nBjacws^ 2 20 ALBERT DURER m S Knight, Death, and The Devil, inscribed with the date 15 13. Kiigler says of it : — " I beUeve I do not exaggerate when I name this print as the most important work which the fantastic spirit of German art has ever i)roduced." The print of Melancholy was executed in 15 15. During the twenty succeeding years Diirer engraved various copper- plates of Madonnas and Apostles, among which occur addi- tional examples of dignity and fine feeling. In the year 1 5 15 Diirer executed also the celebrated borders for the prayer-book of the Emperor Maximilian, at present in the Royal Library, at Munich. Ruskin, in a lecture on Diirer and Salvator Rosa, in speaking of the different opinions held by these two artists about death, says : — " All that we need to note is the opposite answer they gave to this question about death. In the sight of Diirer, things were for the most part as they ought to be. Men did their work in his city and in the fields round it. The clergy were sincere. Great social evils either non-existent, or seemingly a part of the nature of things, and inevitable. His answer was that of patient hope, and twofold, consisting of one design in praise of Fortitude, and another in praise of Labour. The Fortitude, commonly known as The Knight and Death, represents a knight riding through a dark valley, overhung by leafless trees, and with a great castle on a hill beyond. Beside him, but a little in advance, rides Death on a pale horse. Death is grey-haired, and with crowned serpents wreathed about his crown (the sting of death involved in the kingly power).- He holds up the hour glass, and looks earnestly into the knight's face. Behind him follows Sin, but Sin powerless \ he has been conquered and passed by, but follows yet. ALBERT DURER 221 watching if any way of assault remains. On his forehead are two horns — I think of sea-shell — to indicate his insa- tiableness and instability. He has also the twisted horns of the ram for stubbornness, the ears of an ass, the snout of a swine, the hoofs of a goat ; torn wings hang useless from his shoulders, and he carries a spear with two hooks, for catching as well as wounding. The knight does not heed him, nor even Death, though he is conscious of the presence of the last. He rides quietly, his bridle firm in his hand, and his lips set close in a slight sorrowful smile, for he hears what Death is saying, and hears it as the word of a messenger who brings pleasant tidings, thinking to bring evil ones. A little branch of delicate heath is t^visted round his helmet. His horse trots proudly and straight, its head high, and with a cluster of oak on the brow, where on the fiend's brow is the sea-shell horn. But the horse of Death stoops its head, and its rein catches the little bell which hangs from the knight's horse bridle, making it toll as a passing bell. Diirer's second answer is the plate of Melancholia^ which is the history of the sorrowful toil of the earth, as The Knight and Death is of its sorrowful patience under temptation." In the year 1520-21 Diirer was desirous of revisiting the Netherlands, and he was accompanied by his wife and her maid. His journal is still preserved, and tells us of the great honours with which he was received there by the native artists. Antwerp was then the most important city of the Low Countries, and the focus of their commerce, and it was the first place which the travellers reached. The evening of their arrival, the director of the leading banking establishment, that of the Fugger, the Rothschild of his 1 muiipuiiia II amp wwpi 222 ALBERT DURER ' ii . day, invited them to a splendid supper. The following days Diirer was honourably escorted in his walks through the city. He was also invited to a public dinner given by the artists of Antwerp in their own hall. A report of this enter- tainment Diirer has left recorded in his published journal to the Netherlands. " There was no sparing of expense," he writes \ " the banquet was served on silver, and all the painters attended with their wives. When I entered with mine, they ranged themselves on each side for me to pass through, as they would for some great lord. The most dis- tinguished persons then saluted me reverentially, and ex- pressed the most earnest desire to pay me all respect, and to make the entertainment as agreeable to me as I could desire. When I had taken my place, the Sieur Rathporth offered me, in the name of the guild, four pints of wine, in token of their goodwill and esteem. I thanked them, and expressed my gratitude. After having been most pleasantly and hospitably entertained till late in the night, they con- ducted us home by torchlight, and renewed their expressions of regard during the journey." At Ghent and at Bruges, Diirer was equally well received. Entertainments were got up in his honour, and every evening he was conducted to his lodgings amid the blaze of flam- beaux. But Diirer's visit to the Netherlands was not without annoyance and vexation. At first, on Diirer's arrival in Brussels, Margaret of Austria, regent of the Netherlands for Charles V., despatched an officer of the Court, and com- missioned him to assure Diirer of the favour of the regent and of the emperor. In return for this act of kind con- sideration, the engraver of Nuremberg offered Margaret 1 1 ALBERT DURER 223 some of his choicest prints, among them his St Jerome Seated, engraved upon copper with marvellous delicacy, and still reckoned among his finest works; and a set of his Passion prints, to which he added two subjects drawn on parchment with much labour and care, and which he valued at thirty florins. But intrigue and envy soon changed Mar- garet's conduct towards him, and she treated him with marked neglect. And even a number of persons, whose portraits he had painted in Brussels, received the pictures, but neglected to pay for them, thus placing Diirer in diffi- culty from want of funds. In his diary, dated from Antwerj), he says : — " I have made a large number of drawings, por- traits, and other works, one way or another, but the majority of them have produced me nothing." At this juncture a citizen of Antwc'"p, Alexander ImhofT, agreed to lend him one hundred florins, for which Diirer gave him his acceptance, payable at Nuremberg. This relieved him from his difficulties, and he began to think of returning home. But on the eve of his departure, Christian II., King of Denmark, arrived at Antwerp, and learning, that Diirer was still in the city, immediately sent for him to paint his portrait. The portrait was painted, and Diirer was paid for it in a manner worthy of a liberal patron. Diirer soon after quitted the Netherlands, and returned to Nurem- berg. In 1526 he painted his two pictures of the four apostles — John and Peter, Mark and Paul. The figures are the size of life. This, which is Diirer's grandest work, and the last of importance executed by him, is now in the Royal Gallery, at Munich. We know with certainty that it was presented by Diirer himself to the Council of his native i p^p«*«Hpw IJI II ^RWMIIII- Ijiij 248 HANS HOLBEIN but without a stone to mark the spot, or a single record of loving friends. We may, therefore, exclaim, in the well- known lines of Gray — " Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If memory o'er the tomb no trophies raise ; Where through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. " Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? Can honour's voice provoke the silent dust, Or flatt'ry soothe the dull cold ear of Death i t in;i^lim* W' Reynolds says : — " It is one of Rubens' best i)icturcs, both for colouring and drawing j 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 contrast with those flowers, as perhaps no other painter could have done." Rubens had now been absent from his native country for eight years, when he was recalled by tidings of his mother's illness, and though he hastened to Antwerp with all possible speed, he did not arrive in time to fmd her alive. At the earnest desire of the Infanta and the Archduke he was induced to remain in Antwerp, where he built him- self a magnificent house, with a saloon in the form of a rotunda, and enriched it with a choice collection of anti(]ues and works of art; and in this house many of his finest works were executed. In this residence Rubens passed several years in the quiet pursuit of his profession; and the fruits of his labours at that period may still be seen in the various edifices of the Low Countries, which are decorated with his numerous pictures. The pictures painted at tliis early period are considered his most pleasing, particularly many of those in the Academy, at Antwerp, which were executed v/hen he had leisure, in the vigour of his genius, and with full feeling for his subjects. One of Rubens' most powerful pictures is the Crucifixion. Sir Joshua Reynolds says : — " Rubens has chosen the point of time when an executioner is piercing the side of Christ, while another, with a bar of iron, is breaking the limbs of one of the malefactors who, in his convulsive agony, which his body admirably expresses, has torn one of his feet from the RUBENS 253 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 counte- nance perfectly expressive of his i)enitence. The Virgin, St John, and Mary the wife of Cleophas are standing by with great expression of grief and resignation, whilst the Magda- lene, 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 horror. As the expression carries with it no grimace 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. The good Centurion ought not to be forgotten, who is leaning forward, one hand on the other, resting on the mane of his horse, while he looks up to Christ with great earnestness." We are inclined to wonder from what sources Rubens acciuired the vast amount and variety of subjects that his works exhibit, for he seems to have exhausted the mythology of classic writers and the narratives of sacred historians, without reference to other productions which may be termed purely ideal ; but this astonishment ceases when we know- that he never painted without having read to him some passage of history or poetry \ and that the works of ancient and modern writers were equally familiar to him, as he perfectly understood, and spoke with fluency, seven different languages. Rubens was not only a great artist, but his mind was stored with an immense stock of general informj^- tion, accpired by extensive reading, by observation, and by intercourse with the wise men of his time. Kligler says of his painting : — " In him we recognise an i T i < . i' V' I ihi rp»' 'i •i'l' ''i ni lit ■i \ i!i 254 RUBENS effort to attain a precise development of form, but his forms are no longer selected according to some universal and arbitrary principle of beauty; they are those of a bold and vigorous nature, in which alone the feeling of the artist, or rather the common feeling of the period, with its ^ caning to pleasures of sense and to strong passion, could be ap])ro- priately expressed. It is for this reason that his compositions are always worked out with great dramatic power; the different characters are expressed with precision, and their gradations are accurately marked; each individual is stamped with perfect originality and independence." And Sir Joshua Reynolds, a great authority, says : — " The productions of Rubens seem to flow with a freedom and prodigality as if they cost him nothing, and to tlie general animation of the composition there is always a corres- pondent si)irit in the execution of the work. The striking brilliancy of his colours, and their lively oi)]XJsition 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 aitention of the spectator — awaken in him, in some mtisure, correspondent sensations, and make him feel a degree of the enthusiasm with which the painter was carried away. He saw the objects of nature with a painter's eye ; he saw at once the i)redominant feature by which every object is known and distinguished ; and as soon as seen, it Avas executed with a facility that is astonishing, and let me add, this facility is to a painter, when he closely exammes a picture, is a source of great pleasure. Rubens was, perhaps, the greatest master in the mechanical part of the art, the best workman with his tools that ever exercised a pencil. To conclude, I will venture RUBENS 255 to repeat in favour of Rubens, what I have before said in regard to the Dutch school, that those who cannot see the extraordinary merit of this great painter, eitlicr have a narrow conception of the variety of art, or are led away by the affectation of ai)proving nothing but what c;omes from the Italian school." Perhaps the greatest works of Rubens are those in the transepts of the Cathedral, at Antwerp. On one side is the Elcvatioji of f/ie Cross by a crowd of executioners, with the body of Christ hanging upon it. On tlie other is the Descent from t/ie Cross. 1 shall not dwell u})on the first, lest I should weary you ; but we cannot i)ass the Descent from the Cross without remark. Sir Joshua Reynolds says : — " This i)icture, of all ilie works of Rubens, is that which has the most rei)utation. The hanging of the head on. his shoulder, and the lalling of the body on one side, give it such an ajipcarance of the heaviness of death, that nothing can exceed it. 'I'he greatest peculiarity of this composition is the contrivance of the white sheet, on which the body of Jesus lies. This circumstan was probably what induced Rubens to adopt the composition. He well knew what effect white linen, opposed to flesh, must have with his power of colouring ; and the truth is, that none but great colourists can venture to pair.t pure wliite linen near flesh, but such know the advantage of it." He afterwards goes on to remark : — " The principal light is formed by the body of Christ and the white sheet, without a second light bearing any pro- portion to the principal. In this respect,"' he says truly, "it has more the manner of Rembrandt's disposition of light than any other of Rubens' works. This it is which I 256 RUBENS \\ ■' If; I i I Vi I llf. i • ' i gives such a striking effect of unity to this marvellous picture." This picture was among those taken by the French to Paris, and while there underwent a very judicious repara- tion and cleaning, so that it is probably in far better con- dition now than when seen by Sir Joshua. The picture is in three compartments. On one of the lateral pieces, or folding doors, is represented the Salutation of the Virgin ; on the other, the Presentation of t/ie Infant ^esns in t/ie Temple ; and in the centre, tlie Crucifixion. Shortly after Rubens settled in Antwerp he married Isabella Brandt, in November 1609, the daughter of a rich senator of that city. There are several portraits of this lady still m existence. The finest is, perhaps, that in the Royal Gallery of Munich. There is also one in the Royal Collection, in England. It has been doubted whether this is Rubens' first or second wife. I am more inclined to think it is Helena Forman, his second wife, from the resemblance between it and that of the photograph of Helena in the Ufiizi Gallery, at Florence ; and also its resemblance to other pictures of Helena Forman, to which I shall afterwards allude. Mrs Jameson is, however, of opinion that the lady is Elizabeth Brandt, his first wife, who died in 1626; that the portrait is undoubtedly that of a woman whose age cannot be less, certainly, than thirty years, and very probably more than that. Rubens died before his wife Helena had attained her twenty-sixth year ; " besides," Mrs Jameson says, " the countenance has too much of feeling and matronly sense, and too little beauty for her." Still, it is the portrait of an exceedingly hand- some woman. The face is highly pleasing, the eyes soft 1U»«IM"W'"IV1 I" ■' '" RUBENS 257 and expressive, though not remarkably intelligent, and the general appearance that of a well born, educated female. She is habited in a yellow satin dress, with slashed sleeves, a black mantle, and a rich lace ruff; the hair is adorned with pearls and flowers, and a necklace of magnificent pearls is around her neck, Rubens must have painted the picture as a labour of love, for the greatest pains seems to have been taken with ever}' jjart of it. The drawing of the upper part is very elegant, and the hands are beautifully modelled ; the colour is rich, yet subdued ; and, as a whole, it may be regarded as one of this artist's finest female por- traits. It was purchased in 1820, by King George IV., for the sum of 800 guineas. In 1C20 Rubens, at the request of Maria de Medici, the widow of Henry IV., visited Paris, and received instructions for a series of twenty-four subjects, illustrating some of the principal events in the life of the royal lady. These works were executed in the Gallery of the Luxembourg Palace. In 1626 Rubens lost his first wife, and left Antwerp for some time, and endeavoured to divert his sorrow by a journey to Holland, visiting the principal Dutch artists of that time. In 1627, when Charles I. of England declared war against France, Ru])ens was entrusted with some negotiations with Gevtier, Charles' agent at the Hague. In the autumn of the same year he was sent on a mission to Madrid, and during his stay there, he executed several important jjictures, gaining the esteem of Philip IV. In 1629 Rubens was sent by the Infanta on an embassy to England. Here also his success as a diplomatist was once more achieved ; and his merits in procuring Charles' R ii Mi I I i ii' ! ^ i ill I if il i!, tl ; ' im 1 1 \ i ' : ! s 258 RUBENS acquiescence in the peace were recognised by the Court ot Spain. Here he painted for Charles I. the allegorical picture of Peace and War, now in the National Gallery, London, and various other works. The king bestowed the honour of knighthood on the painter, 21st February 1630, presenting him at the same time with a splendid sword, and a costly collar of diamonds. An anecdote is told of the artist, that while he was employed one day at his easel, an English nol)lcman of high rank accosted him with the sarcastic remark : — " And so the representative of his catholic majesty sometimes amuses himself with painting 1" "Truly," replied Rubens, "and sometimes the painter amuses himself by playing the ambassador." In 1 63 1 Rubens, then at the mature age of fifty-four, married his second wife, the lovely Helena Forman, or Forment, then a blooming damsel of sixteen. Her portrait appears in numbers of his pictures. There is one, a very beautiful picture, in the Imperial Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, of which the costume is certainly most singular. It is very youthful looking, and must have been painted shortly after her marriage. Another represents her at a much later period, with her child on her knee. The picture is in the Gallery, at Munich, and is deservedly much admired. There is also a beautiful picture in the Museum, at Antwerp, in which Rubens, his wife, Helena Forman, and his child appear as a Holy Family. In 1633 Rubens was again emi)loyed in a diplomatic character, having been sent to Holland ; and, about the end of the same year, he lost his friend and patroness, the Infanta Isabella. /'■ '11 RUBENS 259 It would extend this sketch of Rubens to too great a length were I to enumerate the many splendid pictures of this great master, scattered over the picture galleries of Europe. I have already alluded to those in the Royal Galleries of Munich and Vienna, and I may also mention the six grand pictures in the Gallery of Prince Lichtenstein, at Vienna, representing the history of Decius, the Roman Emperor. They are striking, vigorous designs, fresh and bright looking, and noble specimens of Rubens' style. Nor can I avoid naming another fine picture, well known to connoisseurs, the Chapeait de Faille, now in the National Gallery, London, lately acquired by purchase from Sir Robert Peel. It is said that the late Sir Robert Peel gave ;^3,5oo for this beautiful picture. Rubens rose very early, and made a point of commencing his day by religious devotion. After breakfasting, he went to his painting-room, and, while at work, received visitors and talked with them freely; or, in their absence, listened to some one who read to him from the pages of the finest writers — his love for the classics inducing him to give pre- ference to the best Roman authors, he himself being a thor- oughly good Latin scholar. At midday he took a frugal dinner, and again continued his labours till the evening. At the close of the day he rode for several miles, and on his return passed the evening in agreeable converse with the friends who visited his house. In the Picture Gallery of Antwerp is still preserved the chair in which the painter usually sat. It is mounted on a pedestal within a glass case, and appears to have been much used. The leathern seat has been broken through in many places, and has been carefully drawn together by strong 26o RUBENS threads. The leathern back is ornamented with gilding stamped upon it, and in the centre is the arms of Rubens, above which appears his name, thus : — Pet. Paul Rubens. Below is the date, 1623. An anecdote is told of him which illustrates the good sense of the artist. An English student of alchemy made the painter magnificent promises of fortune by aid of the science, if he would furnish the necessary funds for his laboratory. The painter merely replied, " You are here too late, by full twenty years \ for, since that time, I have found the art of making gold by aid of this palette and pencils." For some years before his death Rubens had been suffering from gout in his hands, which disabled him from painting on a large scale. The disease with which he had been so long afflicted at last cut him off, and he died on the 30th May 1640, in the sixty-third year of his age. He was buried in the fine old Church of Saint Jacques, at Antwerp, where the principal and most wealthy families of the town had their burial vaults, private chapels, and altars. That belonging to the family of Rubens is situated exactly behind the high altar. The tomb of the great painter, the " Father of the Flemish School," is covered by a slab of white marble, bearing a long inscription, let into the pavement of the chapel. In 1793, when every other tomb in the church was broken open and pillaged by the revolutionary French, this alone was spared. The altar-piece in this thapel was painted for it by Rubens, and is considered one of his best and most pleasing works. It is a Holy Fainily^ in which he has RUBENS 261 introduced his own portrait as St George, those of his two wives as Martha and Mary Magdalen, his father as St Jerome, his aged grandfather as Time, and his son as an Angel. His funeral was conducted with much pomp — attended by the chief personages in Antwerp, the officers of the city, and the members of the Academy of Painting, The church was hung throughout with black velvet, the service being performed in the sumptuous manner usually adopted for the nobility. He left vast riches behind him to his children, of whom Albert, the eldest by his first wife, succeeded him in the office of Secretary of State in Flanders; and, although he died at an early age, left behind him a high reputation as a man of learning ; the youngest, Nicholas, passed his life in retire- ment on one of the estates which he inherited from his father. He had five children by his second wife, who was after- wards married to Baron J. B. Broechoven, a Flemish noble- man in the Spanish service in the Netherlands, Antwerp — once the richest and most commercial city in Europe, solemn old place as it now is, still taking pride in its great painter, of whom it has well been said : — "There was the same breadth and magnificence in his character as in the colour of his compositions, and his mind was as free from littleness as his works " — gave a great fete in 1840, exactly 200 years after his death, in honour of Rubens, when his statue in bronze, of colossal proportions, by Geefs, was uncovered. It stands in the centre of the Place Verte, the great public square, immediately beside the old cathedral, whose picturesque towers form an admirable background to the scene. — " But I forget. My pilgrim's shrine is won, And he and I must part. So let it be." I it ilHi * '"'' rii 262 VANDYCK ■ ! ! t I % Sir Anthony Vandyck, the seventh of a family of twelve, was born at Antwerp, 22d March 1599. His father, Frans Vandyck, was a merchant in that city. His mother, Maria Cupers, who was admired for her skill in flower painting and needlework, and who also excelled as a painter of landscape, aided in the early work of his tuition, but she died in 1607, when he was eight years old. But his first master of any eminence was Vvin Balen, an artist of good reputation, with whom he remained two years, and at the expiration of that time, being then in his sixteenth year, Vandyck became a pupil of Rubens, whose boldness of style, both in composi- tion and colour, was more congenial to the genius of the young student, than the delicate manner of Van Balen. He continued in the studio of Rubens five years, and then by the advice of his preceptor, quitted him to pursue his studies in Italy. He set out, with the best intentions ot devoting himself entirely to his art, on a white horse given him by Rubens, but had proceeded only as far as the village of Soventhem, when he unluckily fell in love with a young girl of that place, and there foolishly lost his time and money in pursuit of his passion. To show his devotion to her, and to comply with her request, he painted two pictures for the parish church. One, a Holy Family, in which he introduced portraits of his mistress and her parents, is lost ; the other, in which he has represented himself as St Martin, riding on the white horse given him by Rubens, still remains. Tidings of the truant at length reached the ears of his master, who sought him out, represented to him the folly of sacrificing his future prospects of fame and success to an obscure amour, and, with some difficulty, persuaded him to tear himself away. VANDYCK 263 While he lived with Rubens, it is said, that Rubens having left a picture unfinished one night, and going out contrary to custom, his scholars took the opportunity of sporting about the room, when one striking at his com- panion with a maulstick, chanced to throw down the picture, which, not being dry, accpjired some damage. Vandyck, being at work in the next room, was prevailed on to repair the mischief; and when Rubens came next morning to his work, first going at a distance to view his picture, as is usual with painters, and having contemplated it a little, he cried out suddenly, that he liked the piece far better than he did the night before. Me imitated his master, even to exaggeration, some examples of which may seen in the Berlin Gallery. After- wards, and probably in consequence of his studies in Italy, Vandyck abandoned the taste of his master for what is violent and exaggerated, and formed for himself a peculiar style, in which he executed numerous works. I would particularly refer to his St Gcori:;i\ in the church of St Jacques, at Antwerp, and Christ on the Cross, in the Museum, at Antwerj) : both excellent pictures. During his six years residence in Italy, Vandyck visited Venice, Genoa, Florence, and Rome, where he attained the beautiful colouring of Titian, Paul Veronese, and the Vene- tian School, proofs of which appeared in the pictures he drew at Genoa, where he left behind him many excellent pieces. Some of his finest pictures are in " Genova La Superba;" The Tribute Aloncy, in the Palazzo Brignole ; Portrait of the Marques Brignole Sale, Palazzo Brignole ; Portrait of the Marchioness Brignole Sale, Palazzo Brignole ; Portrait of the II uTi it 1 1 s I ' III 1'' ■' u I ■'!•' 264 F^yVZ) VCA' ATarchioness Gcromina Bri^nolc and Daughter, Palazzo Brig- liole ; Portrait of Pidro Branco, Palazzo Durazzo. In Rome Vandyck was much patronised, and lived in great style. On his return to Antwerp, though he had already given good proof of his abilities in historical painting, he was comi)elled to have recourse to por- traiture ; but even in this he found less to do than he antici[)ated, although the Prince of Orange invited him to the Hague, where he painted several portraits of illustrious personages attached to the court. He, there- fore, quitted the country to try his fortune in Paris, with the intention of painting the Ciallery of the Louvre; but, on arriving there, found that Nicholas Poussin had already received the commission. He, therefore, returned again to Holland, when about this time, he, fortunately for England, heard of the encouragement which the English monarch, Charles I., was then affording to art. The Royal Gallery of Munich is rich in the works of Vandyck, of which it possesses upwards of thirty, many of them the finest examples of the artist. I may refer you to — Portrait of a Burgomastci^s Wife of Antwerp, a Dead Christ, Portrait of William of Neidmrg ivith his Large Dog, and a Virgin and Child. As an historical painter, his genius was inferior in vigour and fertility to Rubens, but his drawing is more correct, and his compositions exhibit a nobler and more ideal character. As a portrait painter, Vandyck occupies the highest pinnacle of art, and in this department he is considered to be equal, if not superior to Titian. He not only knew how to repre- sent nature in general in fine forms, and in warm and beautiful colour, but his peculiar mode of conception enabled VANDYCK 265 him to seize the more refined delicacy of tlie ui)per classes, without, at the same time, failing to mark with life and spirit the finer traits of character. Vandyck had previously been in England, but now, with the second or third vi/iit, com- menced the most brilliant epoch of his career ; an(|l here he passed the last ten years of his life — from 1631 to 1641. He was received in the most distinguished manner by Charles I., who created him a knight, and presented him with a golden collar decorated with brilliants. He was appointed painter to the Court, with a pension of J[,2oo for life, and a residence at Blackfriars for the winter, and another at Eltham for the summer. Vandyck executed an immense number of works in England, and that country is still extremely rich in j^aintings of this master, particularly the Royal collection. There are also several works in the National Gallery, none, however, calling for particular remark except the Portrait of a Gentleman^ commonly called "Gevartius." It is a magnificent and brilliant picture. Vandyck stands forth at Windsor Castle in all the glory of portraiture. " No galler}- in the world," says Dr "Waagen, when speaking of the Vandyck Room in that royal residence, " can display so large a number of portraits by this great master. There are no less than twenty-two. As a portrait painter he was, without doubt, the greatest master of his age." Charles himself sat to him several times, and of the numerous pictures whicli he painl'jd of Queen Henrietta Maria, the one in the Royal collection is considered the best. Mrs Jameson says of it: — "This is the most attractive portmit which Vandyck painted, and gi\-es a strong impres- sion of the lively, elegant, wilful Frenchwoman, whose bright IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) h /, -% ^ {/ <^^ 4l^ Z f/. 1.0 I.I 11.25 It; 12.8 |2.5 lAO 111112.0 U IIIIII.6 V L1>^ ^N'- -«>\ ^?<\ % ? V 266 VANDYCK eyes and caprices so fascinated her husband." Davenant styles her, very beautifully, "the rich-eyed darling of a monarch's breast." This picture hung in Charles' bedroom. Dr Waagen says : — " The head is extremely attractive and delicate, the conceptions of the utmost elegance. The broad treatment of the remaining portion is almost too slight." She is represented in a dress of white silk, her hair adorned with pearls and a red band. The fulness and natural cast of the hair in Vandyck's time enabled him to dispose and arrange it to the best advantage in setting off the features, so that his portraits have become models of study to all succeeding painters, for the elegance with which the hair unites and composes with the several portions of the face. Addison, in remarking upon the style in which ladies of his time wore their hair, says : — " I would desire the fair sex to consider how impos- sible it is for them to add anything that can be ornamental to what is already the masterpiece of nature ; the head has the most beautiful appearance, as well as the highest station, in a human figure. She seems to have designed the head as a cupola to the most glorious of her works ; and when we load it with such a pile of supernumerary ornaments, we destroy the symmetry of the human figure, and foolishly contrive to call off the eye from real and great beauties to childish gew-gaws, ribbands, and bone lace." If Addison complained of the mode in his day, what can be said of the present generation, who destroy the beauty which God has given them, by heaping quantities of false hair upon their unfortunate heads, making that which would otherwise be beautiful, look vulgar and unbecoming, and frequently even ludicrous and absurd. VANDYCK 267 In addition to the beautiful portrait of Queen Henrietta Maria, I would refer you to several other pictures in the Royal collection, viz. : — the Three Children of Charles I.; the Family of Charles I.; the Marriage of Saint Catherine ; and Portrait of the Lady Digby. It is said that Vandyck led a dissipated life, and that at the age of thirty, care and weariness had already traced furrows on his lofty forehead, and quenched the lustre of his large expressive eyes. From an early hour in the morning until four o'clock in the afternoon, a constant suc- cession of visitors crowded the house of the artist, in order to solicit the honour of being immortalized by his hand. In his saloon music was performed, and refreshments pro- vided. At four o'clock he dined, and the evenings he devoted to pleasure, which he pursued with an eagerness which injured his health, and eventually shortened his days. From this dissipated career, his friend, the Duke of Buckingham, sought to wean him, by promoting his mar- riage with Lady Ivlary Ruthven, the only surviving child of the Earl of Gowrie, a lady of great beauty and accom- plishmenis ; and he supported the dignity of her rank by the ostentatious display of a magnificent equipage, numerous servants, and a splendid table. Bishop Burnet, in his " History of his Own Times " says, in speaking of the conspiracy of the Earl of Gowrie : — " He had a brother, then a child, who when he grew up and found he could not carry the name of Ruthven, which, by an Act of Parliament made after the conspiracy, none might carry, he went and lived beyond sea. He had two sons, who died without issue, and one daughter, married to Sir Anthony Vandyck, the famous picture drawer, whose 268 VANDYCK I n \ children, according to his pedigree, stood very near to the succession of the crown. It was not easy to persuade the nation of the truth of that conspiracy." Vandyck exhibited, during the latter part of his career, the same love of magnificence and lavish expenditure that distinguished his great master, Rubens. The enormous prices which he obtained for his pictures enabled him to support a princely establishment, without involving himselt in pecuniary difficulties. At this time, however, he painted for money rather than fame, and he seldom allowed himself more than a day for the execution of a portrait. The income he derived from his works must have been very great, as, notwithstanding his expensive habits, he left behind him a fortune amounting to upwards of thirty thousand pounds sterling. He painted a prodigious number of por- traits, about which he took a great deal of care at first, but at last he ran them over hastily, and painted them very slightly. A friend asking him the reason of this, he replied, " I have worked a long time for reputation, and I now work for my kitchen." Du Fresnoy says, that "of all the disciples of Rubens, many of whom were admirable, Vandyck was he who best comprehended the rules and general maxims of his master ; that he even excelled him in the delicacy of his colouring, and in his cabinet pieces — but that his gusto in the design- ing part was nothing better than that of Rubens." His pictures preserve in high perfection the dress and costume of the times. He was of low stature, but well proportioned, veiy hand- some, modest, and extremely obliging, a great encourager of all such as excelled in any art or science, most of whose r t VANDYCK 269 pictures he drew, and generous to the very last degree. His own garb was generally very rich, and his house was much frequented by persons of the best quality of both sexes, so that his apartments seemed rather to be the court of a prince, than the lodgings of a painter. A long course of dissipation had already undermined his constitution, and finding his health decline, he made a journey, in company with his wife, to his native city, Antwerp. He soon returned to England, when he commenced a series of cartoons, which were intended to be executed in tapestry. He did not, however, live to complete them, but died of the gout, in London, in the year 1641, at the early age of forty-two. He expired in the arms of his amiable wife, leaving by her an only daughter. He was buried in Old St Paul's Church, near the tomb of John of Gaunt, where his monument, on which was inscribed an epitaph by Cowley, perished at the dreadful conflagration of 1666. Old St Paul's has passed away — but, phoenix-like, from its ashes has arisen, created by the genius of Sir Christopher Wren, one of the most magnificent Christian temples of modem times. Here rest the illustrious dead, who have left England a roll of names, with which worth, honour, bravery, and patriotism have been associated. Here are soldiers, sailors, painters, poets ; brave generals — Wellington, Abercrombie, Moore; mighty admirals — Nelson, Howe, Rodney, CoUingwood ; the great Samuel Johnson ; the philanthropist Howard; and more congenial stil], with whose ashes those of Vandyck well may mingle, great painters — Reynolds, West, Lawrence, Turner. 270 REMBRANDT I'i if ;l Paul Rembrandt Van Rhyn was bom 15th December 1606, in an old fashioned gloomy mill, on the banks of the Rhine, near the town of Leyden. His father, Hermann Gerritz Van Rhyn, was the owner of the mill, and in easy circumstances, and is said to have been determined to give his son a classical education to qualify him for one of the learned professions. His proximity to the famous Univer- sity of Leyden favoured this desire ; but, with the exception of a few years' schooling at Leyden, it is believed, he was allowed to grow up with perfect freedom from all restraints of an educational kind. At an early age his taste for art developed itself, and he passed much of his time with Van Swanenburg, an engraver of Leyden, from whom he received his first lessors in that art for which he subsequently became so distinguished. He afterwards passed six months with Lastman, a history pain- ter ; and as many with Pinas, from whom he is said to have imbibed that manner of strong contrasts of lights and shades, which distinguished his pictures. The defects of his education appeared from his incorrect- ness in drawing naked figures. When he once boasted to Vandyck that he had never been in Italy — " I see it well," replied the painter. He took up a hostile position against the study of the ideal, or of pure beauty of form, and deliberately, sometimes even designedly, proceeded on the principle of imitating vulgar nature. His peculiar style formed a direct contrast to the schools of Rubens and Vandyck. He ironically termed the pieces of rusty armour and strange furniture, which filled his studio, the " Antiques," from which he studied. His sole aim was to imitate living nature, such as it REMBRANDT 271 appeared to him ; and the living nature which he had continually before his eyes, being of the heavy kind, it is no wonder that he should imbibe, as he did, the bad taste of his country. Nevertheless, he formed a manner entirely new and peculiar to himself; and drew abundance of portraits, with wonderful strength, sweetness, and resem- blance. Nieuwenhuyss, in his review of the lives and works of the most eminent painters, says : — " Although some have pre- tended that he ought to have studied the antique, it is not less true that he was by no means deficient in this point ; for it is known that he purchased, at a high price, casts from antique marbles, paintings, drawings, and engravings by the most excellent Italian masters, to assist him in his studies, and which are mentioned in the inventory of his goods when seized for debt. Whatever was his practice, he certainly knew their value, and availed himself of their beauties in his compositions, though he neglected them in his forms." He admired all but imitated none. " It is the attribute of a great mind to be in all things self-dependent." One of his first pictures having attracted the attention of some who could estimate its merits, he was advised to cany it to the Hague, and submit it to a wealthy amateur there. The artist and his performance met with a cordial reception, and, to the great astonishment of the former, his patron gave him a hundred florins for the picture (;^8, 6s. 8d. sterling). Houbraken, who relates the story, tells of the joy of the young artist, who travelled from his father's house on foot to his patron, a distance of about ten miles, but was too eager to acquaint his parents with his good fortune to return by ^! i »' I fi i I! ■'I' ifi 272 REMBRANDT the same mode ; he therefore mounted the diligence, and when it arrived at Leyden, jumped from the carriage and ran home as quickly as his legs would carry him. The success, so great and unexpected, opened up a new feeling in his heart — that of acquiring wealth — accordingly, about the age of twenty-one, he established himself in a house at Amsterdam. Whether from personal vanity or the desire to make himself know to his new fellow-citizens, he immediately commenced pamting and engraving his own portrait in a variety of ways ; siometimes covered with a rich mantle and wearing a velvet cap, sometimes carrying a bird of prey, or a naked .sabre. He adopted many other modes to make himself singular, and as soon as his reputation was sufficiently established, he opened a school, dividing it into separate studios, so that every pupil might work by himself from his own model, which was the living figure. He wished them to avoid being copyists of each other. It is said that Rembrandt was as anxious for originality in his pupils as he was jealous of his own. He never lost his early tastes, and seems to have loved, in more prosperous days, to revert to the lower companionships of his youth. When rallied on his taste in after life, he honestly owned the little relief he found in high society, or the envied entree he could command to the houses of the elite of Amsterdam, saying, " If I wish to relax from study, it is not honour but liberty and ease that I prefer." Rembrandt's industry was untiring, and his numerous paintings, drawings, and etchings must have realised con- siderable sums. He married, 2 2d June 1634, Saskia, the beautiful daughter of a farmer named Uylenburg, living at the village of B.ansdorp — others say she was a lady of good REMBRANDT ars family, and possessed of some fortune — who, as well as his maid-servant, often served him for models. There is a fine picture in the Dresden Gallery — a portrait of himself, and his wife sitting on his knee. The following story has been told about it. I cannot vouch for the truth of it, but whether true or false, it at all events elucidates the difference between the styles of Rubens, Vandyck, and Rembrandt : — Rembrandt, avoiding the better class of society, and resort- ing in preference to taverns, low alehouses, and to the haunts of beggars and gipsies, was forced at last by chance into con- tact with the painters of the Hague. He had sketched a smith's shop, and, as was usual with him when he had finished a picture, it was hung up outside his dwelling for sale. It is said Vandyck, in passing with some friends, saw the picture, and said, "This man paints shadows, equal to Correggio and Rubens, but he surpasses them in his bold, masterly arrange- ment of the lights; this dark picture is a masterpiece; come, let us go in ! Though his pride has prevented him coming to us, he shall see that Vandyck, at least, is artist enough to pay him the homage due to genius." Vandyck entered alone. " I am Vandyck, brother," said the handsome artist, extend- ing his hand to Rembrandt,^" I have come to see you, and to learn of you." Rembrandt could hold out no longer; he showed Vandyck all his pictures, defended his style, took Vandyck's arm, and accompanied the latter to his studio. " Give me this picture in exchange for my smithy, and I shall be satisfied with the bargain," said Rembrandt, at length, pointing to The Reapers. " This is the very worst of all my paintings," said Vandyck, "choose another — it is unfinished." " What do you think of doing with this unfinished picture in S 274 REMBRANDT I (I* the foreground, Vandyck?" "It is the Queen of the Reapers. She is to personify the ideal in my picture." " Well, go and hunt after a Queen for your Reapers." " It is of no use hunting after one ; for a living woman can never come up to my ideal." " O, boaster !" said Rembrandt, greatly excited, " take care that you do not meet with a girl who will put your pencil to shame, before whom you will be forced to exclaim — ' My art is dead in comparison with such nature as this." ' When Rembrandt got home, he said to his wife : — " Do you know Vandyck ? " "I have seen his portrait," she replied. " Do you know the gilded pew next to that of the king's in the cathedral?" "Of course I do, it is Rubens' !" " Make haste, dress yourself as becomingly as you can, and then go to mass. Rubens and Vandyck are sure to be there. Seat yourself opposite them, and contrive to let Vandyck have as good a view of my handsome wife as possible." "Why am I to do this?" " Because he wants a model, which he will not choose from God's beautiful world, but from his own crackbrained fancy. But when he has seen you, he will paint you — and paint you, too, in my picture. I wish to give this conceited fellow a lesson. Go, Saskia, exert your powers of pleasing." She laughed and went. Vandyck soon made his appearance at the side of Rubens. His glance fell on the blooming and radiant face of the jovial painter's loving spouse, who met the ardent gaze of the young painter with a gentle smile. Vandyck painted her in his picture as Queen of the Reapers, and after it was finished, carried it, as agreed, to Rem- brandt's house. As he entered, Rembrandt, dressed, with his sword at his side, was seated near a table, with a slender REMBRANDT 275 female form, magnificently attired, upon his knee. Vandyck could not see her face, for her back was towards him ; she was busied at the table, which was set out for a supper, and on which stood a beautiful peacock with extended tail. Rembrandt cast his eyes on the picture. " The Queen of the Reapers is superb," said he laughing, and looking at Vandyck ; " it is a good thing, mynheer, that you followed my advice, and painted a portrait instead of an ideal." " That is my ideal," said the painter. " And mine too ! the only difference is, that you have it merely in ideal, and I in its delightful and palpable reality. Turn thee round, fair Saskia !" The young woman turned her smiling face towards the astonished painter with a mixture of archness and earnestness. " Here 's to the health of Saskia Van Rhyn, Vandyck's Queen of the Rcapers^^ said Rembrandt, raising his glass, " Hurrah for Nature ! and all those who follow in her footsteps." ** I must confess you are in the right this time," said Vandyck, as he kissed the hand of the fair Saskia, and pledged Rembrandt in a bumper. A week after the foregoing scene, Rembrandt had com- pleted the picture of himself and wife, as a remembrance of his triumph. It was long in the possession of Gaevart Flinks, of whom Vandyck made many unsuccessful attempts to purchase it. It is now, as I have said, in the Royal Gallery, at Dresden. Rembrandt has left us many examples of his personal appearance, from the freshness of comparative youth to the period when time and labour indicated advancing age. His forehead was capacious, and slightly projecting, exhibiting developments which showed the existence of thought and imagination; his eyes were small and deep set, yet L 276 REMBRANDT lively, intelligent, and full of fire ; his hair, growing in rich abundance, was of a dark auburn colour, and curled naturally over his shoulders, giving him much the appearance of a Jew. His nose, thick, flat, and rubicund, marked his face with an air of extreme vulgarity ; which, however, was some- what relieved by a well formed mouth, and the bright expression of his eyes. "Such," says a modem French WTiter, "was Rembrandt, himself the model of those he delighted to portray ; they had expression without nobleness — intellect, but not dignity." " Rembrandt," says Fuseli, " was a meteor in art. He was undoubtedly a genius of the first-class, in whatever is not immediately related to form or taste. He possessed the full empire of light and shade, and of all the tints that float between them. He tinged his pencil with equal success in the cool of dawn, in the noontide-ray, in the vivid flash, in evanescent twilight, and rendered darkness visible." The National Gallery of England is rich in Rembrandt's, possessing several of his finest works, and altogether fifteen of his pictures. The most remarkable are Portrait of a Jeiu Merchant, seated, resting his hands upon a stick ; A /eiutsh Rabbi ; The Painter's otun Portrait at the age of thirty-two ; and his Portrait at an advanced age ; the Portrait of a Woifian, painted in 1666, one of his last works ; and the Portrait of an Old Lady, dressed in black, with white cap and ruff, painted on wood, in 1634 — than which nothing could be more life-like. Of the few pictures by Rembrandt in the Royal collection of England, none show the singularity of his genius in the compositions from sacred historjr more clearly than the one called, Noli me tangere, or, " Touch me not," and sometimes also the " Gardener." REMBRANDT 277 Dr. Waagen says : — " This composition has, in a high degree, that strange origmality which is peculiar to Rem- brandt. The dawn of morning has given full scope for his deep chiaroscuij. It is very carefully executed." And Smith, in his " Catalogue of the Works of the Dutch and Flemish Painters," remarks : — " There is a sublimity about this picture which stamps it among the most poetic com- positions of the artist." It was painted in 1638. There are a number of his pictures in the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, and also in the Gallery of Prince Lichtenstein there. Several in the Galleries of Munich, Dresden, Berlin, and in the Pitti Palace, at Florence. One of his most remarkable pictures is at the Hague — A Surgeon, Professor Tiilp, attended by his Pupils^ proceeding to Dissect a Dead Body. Though an unpleasing subject, it is a most wonderful painting, and one of the artist's finest works. Sir Joshua Reynolds says of it : — " There are seven other portraits, coloured like nature 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 1632. "The dead body is perfectly well drawn (a little fore-shortened), 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." Physicians assert that they can ascertain that it is the body of a person who died from inflammation of the lungs. This picture formerly stood in the Anatomy School of Amsterdam, but was purchased by the king for 32,000 guilders (;^3ooo sterling). 278 REMBRANDT \\\ I % Notwithstanding Rembrandt's great gains, his want of economy and extravagant purchase of pictures made him a bankrupt in 1656, and he secretly quitted Amsterdam to repair to the King of Sweden, who employed him a con- siderable time. But he afterwards returned to Amsterdam. This disaster has been commonly explained by the impoverished state of Holland — the consequence of more than one war — at the period referred to, when, as some writers state, upwards of two thousand houses in Amsterdam were untenanted, and distress was general. Rembrandt's embarrassments are, no doubt, partly to be accounted for by the fact that, in his passion for collecting works of art, he was sometimes utterly regardless of their cost. One of the liabilities of Rembrandt, which pressed heavily upon him, is not to be overlooked. By the will of his first wife, Saskia Uylenburg, who died in 1642, the bulk of her fortune was bequeathed to Rembrandt during his life, or til) his second marriage, and then to their only surviving son, Titus. At a later period of his life he married again ; in what year is uncertain. Scheltema, after speaking of the debts, connects Rembrandt's actual insolvency with his second marriage, which involved the necessity of paying his son Titus the amount of Saskia's bequest. Rembrandt died at Amsterdam, in 1669, and was buried there, in the Wester Kerk, on the 8th of October of that year. He had two children by his first wife ; one of them died young ; the other, Titus, was brought up as a painter, but he possessed little ability, and died before his father. The name of Rembrandt's second wife has not been pre- served. Of two children by her nothing is known, except that they survived him. He had many scholars, but his REMBRANDT 279 power of chiaroscuro did not descend to any of them. Among them were Gerard Dow, Nicolas Maes, and Ferdi- nand Bol, all excellent in their way. The foundations of the old exchange at Amsterdam (at one time the focus of the commerce of the globe), which stood upon five arches over the river Amstel, having given way, the building was demolished ; and in the open space which it occupied a statue of Rembrandt was erected to his memory in 1852, and the square was named after "this great master of the Dutch school." We have now followed, "from their cradles to their graves," the three greatest Flemish painters of modern times. Their bodies rest in appropriate sepulchres, in the most renowned commercial cities of Europe — Antwerp, London, Amsterdam. Their names will live to all generations, nor will their fame perish while — " Time rolls his ceaseless course."' ': i LECTURE IX. GIUSEPPE RIBERA (SPAGNOLETTO), FRANCISCO ZURBARAN, DON DIEGO RODRIGUEZ DE SILVA Y VELAZQUEZ, ALONSO CANO, BARTOLOMEO ESTEBAN MURILLO. " O lovely Spain ! renown'd romantic land." I DESIRE to bring under your notice, as clearly as I can, and with as little diffusiveness as possible, the state of the Spanish school of painting, at its greatest epoch, in the seventeenth century. To do this effectively, I must crave your indulgence, while I occupy your attention this evening for a longer period than usual. I have to speak of Spain — a country consisting of many states in the peninsula, which, by the marriage of Ferdi- nand and Isabella, became consolidated under one com- mon rule; and in 1516, the sceptre, with its dependencies both in the old and new world, passed into the hands of their grandson, Charles V. During the reign of that great emperor, and also during that of his son, Philip II., native talent, as far as art was concerned, seemed dead, or rather indeed had not been born. The mighty Italian Titian, was alone the favourite court painter of both those monarchs, and even in the reign SPAGNOLETTO a8z of Philip III., the great Flemish painter, Rubens, when visiting Madrid on an embassy, was employed to paint the portrait of that monarch ; so that, though minor artists, not without some ability, such as Juan de Roelas, Francisco Herrera, Juan del Castillo, Francisco Pacheco, and others existed, it was not till the long extended reign of Philip IV., the son of Philip III., that the greatest artists of Spain flourished — Ribera, Zurbaran, Velazquez, Cano, and Murillo, names to this day familiar, though not equally well known, to every lover of the works of the ancient masters. These five great painters, whose lives I desire to consider this evening, were all contemporaries ; three of them, Zurbaran, Velazquez, and Cano, being born within one year of each other; and all having lived in friendly intercourse, and intellectual communion and fellowship. Fuseli, in his lectures, says : — " The obstinacy of national pride, perhaps more than the neglect of government, or the frown of superstition, confined the labours of the Spanish school, from its obscure origin, at Seville, to its brightest period, within the narrow limits of individual imitation. But the degree of perfection attained by Diego Velazquez, Joseph Ribera, and Murillo, in pursuing the same object, by means as different as successful, impresses us with deep respect for the variety of their powers." And Kiigler adds : — " Few or no remains of Spanish art can be produced to prove the existence of an early national school, but the peculiar character of the nation, as well as the greatest excellence in the art itself, was manifested late in the seventeenth century, in the works of Velazquez and Murillo. They are worthy representatives of their country ; taken together they present to us, in their most perfect 282 SPAGNOLETTO I form, the tnie characteristics of the school to which they belong." Ribera, more commonly known as Spagnoletto, was rather of the Neapolitan than the Spanish school of art ; and though a Spaniard born, was more indebted to Italy than to Spain for his schooling; but he cannot be omitted in a biographical sketch of the great contemporary Spanish painters of the seventeenth century, who so gloriously upheld the renown of their native city, and could say — *' Fair is proud Seville, let her country boast Her strength, her wealth, her site of ancient days." Ill Giuseppe Ribera, commonly called Lo Spagnoletto (the little Spaniard), was bom at Xativa, near Valencia, 12th January 1588. The native country of Spagnoletto was a subject of dispute between the Spaniards and Neapolitans, the latter contending that he was born in the neighbourhood of Lecce, but that his father was from Spain. The produc- tion, however, of an extract from the baptismal register of Xativa, now called "San Felipe," decided the claim in favour of Spain, and proved him to be a native of that place. Some accounts state that his parents were poor, but Cean Bermudez says, that he was destined by his parents for the pursuit of letters, but his passion for the arts induced him to prefer the school of Francisco Ribalta to the University. But, at any rate, he went to Italy very young, and, in extreme poverty, prosecuted his studies with untiring energy, though sometimes depending entirely for support on the precarious charity of his fellow-students, in Rome. I SPAGNOLETTO 283 He at first followed the style of Raphael, and Annibale Carracci, but eventually adopted that of Caravaggio, and others, of that peculiar style known as the Tenebrosi and Naturalisti, or Followers of Nature. "The charactei," says Kiigler, "of this school was con- genial to the spirit of Ribera, who enhanced its gloomy vigour, and tinged it with the true feeling of his own country." It a said he was found in the streets of Rome, a ragged boy, copying the frescoes on the outside of the public buildings, and that a cardinal, passing one day in his carriage, observed the tattered figure of the youth busily employed, and, struck by the wretched look and eager application of the young artist, who was purs'iin£ his vocation in the open street, his curiosity was raised enough to summon Spagnoletto to his coach side. He sent him to his palace, fed, clothed, and domesticated him ; but, like the bird in the cage, the artist was unhappy and sighed for liberty ; and after a time, thanking his protector, asked leave to go away, and 'sallying out of the Cardinal's palace, he took himself with joy to a vagabond life, rags and poverty. He begged his way to Parma and Modena to examine the masterpieces of Correggio ; but, on his return to Rome, ha^•ing had a quarrel with Domenichino, and thinking it was no longer safe to remain there, he pawned his cloak, and with the money set out to try his fortune at Naples, where he soon achieved success. He studied in Naples under Caravaggio, when that master fled from Rome for homicide, and fixing himself there about 1606, and assuming the severely truthful manner of that artist, he employed his brush on sacred subjects with striking effect. His stem prophets and apostles, with B i 284 SPAGNOLETTO i! agonised limbs and features, soon rivetted public attention, and procured him many patrons. It is said, when he went first to Naples, that he hired himself, for bread to eat, to a common painter in that city, who, happening to be a man of abilities, soon saw how superior Spagnoletto was to the occupation he employed him in. Moreover, the painter being a whimsical character, and given to sudden decisions, he at once resolved to marry his pretty daughter, an only child, to Spagnoletto, and give with her those riches that might allow of his following the art that he was already so con- versant in. He called him, and told him his intentions. Spagnoletto entreated the old man not to make a raillery of his rags and poverty ; but the painter said he was sincere in his intentions towards him ; and Spagnoletto was soon placed in possession of a wife and home, and in a short time rose in public estimation as an artist, so as to receive com- missions from popes and sovereigns. Other accounts state, and with more probability I think, that he married the lovely Leonora Cortes, the daughter of a rich picture-dealer of Naples. His picture of St Bartholomew Flayed was so much admired by the Count de Monterey, then Spanish viceroy, that he nominated Ribera his own painter, and gave him a considerable pension, and apartments in the palace. His fame extended to Rome, when the Pope created him a Knight of the Order of Christ, and the Academy of St Luke elected him one of its members. His master-piece, the Deposition from the Cross, is over the high altar in the Certosa, or Carthusian Convent and Church of San Martino, situated near the Castle of St Elmo, so celebrated for the magnificence of its works of art, and for the fine views over Naples from it. When I visited the Convent in 187 1, the 1 . i. SPAGNOLETTO 285 monks had all disappeared, and the Italian Government had converted the building into a national museum. Kiigler says : — " One of his works is the beautiful Pieia^ at San Martino, a picture rarely equalled by any master of any school." Sir Thomas Lawrence, in writing to Wilkie when at Madrid in 1827, says : — "From the one picture by Ribera, at Naples, I have been led to think you would find some grand severe specimens of his powers and sentiment in chiaroscuro, which Caravaggio never had. The picture I speak of was, I think, in the San Martino at Naples." Wilkie in his reply says : — " There are none here, nor perhaps anywhere, so fine as that you mention." There are some fine pictures in the Louvre, particularly, a horrible, but most powerful Martyrdom of St Bartholometa, as well as Caio Tearing out His Otun Entrails. These terrible and bloody looking subjects which he selected, and which are so revolt- ing to others, were yet inviting to him, and have given rise to the proverbial expression, that *' Spagnoletto tainted His brush with all the blood of all the sainted." Lanzi says : — " His studies rendered him superior to Caravaggio in invention, selection, and design. In emula- tion of him, he painted at the Certosini that great Deposition from the Cross, which alone, in the opinion of Giordano, is sufficient to form a great painter, and may compete with the works of the brightest luminaries of art." Fuseh, in one of his lectures, thus speaks of Spagnoletto — " He delighted in the representation of hermits, anchorites, apostles, prophets — perhaps less to impress the mind with gravity of character and venerable looks of age, than to II i 286 l< I SPAGNOLETTO strike the eye with the imitation of incidental deformities attendant on decrepitude, and the picturesque display of bone, veins, and tendons, athwart emaciated muscle. A shrivelled arm, a dropsied leg, were to Ribera what a breast- plate and a gaberdine were to Rembrandt. As in objects of imitation he courted meagreness or excresence, so in. the choice of his subjects, he preferred to the terrors of ebullient passions, features of horror or loathsomeness, the spasms of Ixion, St Bartholomew under the butcher's knife. Nor are the few ideas of gaiety, by which he endeavoured to soothe his exasperated fancy, less disgusting. Bacchus and his attendants are grinning Lazaroni, or bloated wine sacks ; brutality under his hand distorts the feature of mirth." This is rather a sweeping condemnation of a very striking and original artist. Many of his pictures are by no means extravagant in either the designs or colouring ; and, in cor- roboration of this opinion, I may refer to his picture in the gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna, Christ disputing with the Doctors. There is also another fine picture there, Peter Repentant. In Prince Lichtenstein's splendid gallery, at Vienna, there are also several fine portraits ; at Munich, Portrait oj Cardinal Rospigliosi, An Old Man Contemplating a Skull, and St Bartholoinew ; at Berlin, St Jerome ; at Naples, St Sebastian, and St Jerofne Startled from his Prayers by the Sound of the Last Trumpet. These pictures are carefully designed, powerful in execution, and perfect in colouring. There are also many fine pic lures in several of the Roman palaces, but it would occupy too much time to refer to those in Palazzo Doria Pamphili, Palazzo Corsini, Palazzo Colonna, and Palazzo Borghese. SPAGNOLETTO 287 nities ay of e. A )reast- ibjects in the uUient ,sms of lor are soothe nd his sacks ; mirth." ing and means in cor- in the with the I cannot, however, omit mentioning two splendid pictures in the Palazzo Balbi, at Genoa, Portrait of a Philosopher and Portrait of a Mathematician. There are several pictures in the Uffizi and Pitti Galleries at Florence, two in the National Gallery of England, and I shall only allude to one more, the Martyrdom of St Lorenzo^ in the Vatican at Rome, a very striking picture. Spagnoletto was of a jealous and overbearing temper, resorting at times to most disgraceful and unjustifiable means of injuring his brother artists, and even intimidating and threatening with violence those artists who interfered in any way with his supremacy at Naples. It is related that there was at San Martino, over the principal entrance, a "Deposi- tion" by Stanzioni, which, it is said, had become rather dark, and Spagnoletto persuaded the monks to allow him to wash it. Instead of cleaning it, he injured its effect by using some corrosive liquid. The result is still apparent, for Stanzioni, on being informed of this treachery, refused to re-touch the painting, declaring that it should remain a monument of Spagnoletto's enmity. Spagnoletto was soon at the head of his profession in the south of Europe \ but he used his power for bad purposes. The Neapolitans were displeased at the conduct of a foreign upstart among them, and stood in awe of his malice, ability, and arrogance. He soon placed himself at the head of a faction of artists warring against another faction of artists. Belisario Corenzio, a Greek, Giambattista Caracciolo, a Neapolitan, and Spagnoletto, formed a memorable cabal, the object of which was, to banish all competing talent from Naples, whether native or foreign, and to monopolise the chief patronage of the city for themselves. The conspiracy 288 SPAGNOLETTO ^ of these fierce and ungovernable men succeeded too well for many years, until the death of Caracciolo in 1641. Domenichino, Annibale Carracci, the Cavaliere D'Arpino, and Guido were all, more or less, victims of this cabal ; Domenichino may be said to have died from the vexations it brought upon him. Guido's servant was assaulted by two unknown persons, and they at the same time desired him to inform his master that he must prepare himself for death, or instantly quit Naples, with which latter mandate Guido immediately complied. Gessi, the scholar of Guido was not, however, intimidated by this event, but applied for, and obtained an honourable commission, and came to Naples with two assistants — Giovanna Batista Ruggieri and Lorenzo Menini. But these artists were scarcely arrived when they were treacherously invited on board a galley, which immedi- ately weighed anchor and carried them off, to the great dismay of their master ; who, although he made the most diligent inquiries both at Rome and Naples, could never procure any tidings of them. Gessi also, in consequence, took his departure from Naples. Many of Spagnoletto's pictures were sent to Spain by the viceroy, where they enrich the Royal collection, and where they were well suited to the ferocity of monks and the gloomy devotion of the people. His works abound in the Escurial ; his strength lying in the exact expression of most hideous pain. The author of the " Annals of Painting in Spain," " supposed that at times he was under the curse of the evil eye, or of a species of madness, which caused him to behold but scenes of a tremendous or of a tragical tendency amid all the beauty of nature and art." Spagnoletto, in his prosperous state, was fond of splendour; ! I SPAGNOLETTO 389 he worked only six hours a day, then visited, and in tlie evenings opened his house to company. His house at Naples was a sumptuous and spacious mansion, in front of the Church of St Francis Xavier, and at the corner of the Strada di Nardo, which aftenvards became the residence of his scholar, Luca Giordano, Salvator Rosa was also brought up in his studio. When Don John of Austria, a gay young prince, visited Naples in 1648, Spagnoletto entertained him magnificently, asking him constantly to his parties, and boasting of the beauty of his daughters. The natural result was an intrigue with one of them, Maria Rosa, whom the prince often went to see, on pretence of looking at his pictures. He danced with the painter's beautiful daughter at balls and galas, and at last contrived to carry her off to Sicily, where, soon growing tired of her, he left her, placing her in a convent at Palermo, where her parents could not get access to her. She had been lovely in person, and the joy and pride of both father and mother. They retired to a house at Posilippo, in the neighbourhood of Naples, where it is said they passed their time in conjugal strife and recrimination on the subject of their grief; and finally, in 1648, Spagnoletto, dishonoured in his daughter, gnawed by remorse for the vile persecutions in which he had shared, odious to himself, and sick of life, escaped to sea, forsook his home, and was never heard of more — leaving his end a mystery. Bermudez, however, says that he died in Naples, honoured and rich, in 1656. Spagnoletto was diminutive in stature, as his name implies, dark in complexion, with well-formed features; he has painted his own portrait as dark as well can be any inhabitant of Spain or Italy, and with flowing cavalier-like locks. His 290 ZURBARAN wife, Leonora Corteo, loved to display her charms and her finery at the gala or on the corso. His two daughters were remarkable for their beauty — the unfortunate fate of the elder, Maria Rosa, has been told ; Annicca, the second, became the wife of Don Tommaso Manzano, who held an appointment in the War Office. The great altar-piece of the Church of St Isabel, at Madrid, is by Spagnoletto, and the head of the Virgin was that of his own daughter, Maria Rosa; the nuns of the monastery, hearing the story of her misfortunes, procured Claudio Coello in haste to repaint the Madonna of their daily worship. . Spagnoletto left a manuscript tract on the principles of painting, said to have been an excellent composition. He etched twenty-six pieces of his own designs. His life began in poverty and rags. In his maturer days he forgot the lessons of his youth, and became rapacious, covetous, criminal in design if not in fact, "and his worst foes were they of his own household." He might well exclaim, with Macbeth — ' ' I have lived long enough ; my way of life Is fall'n into the sear, the yellow leaf; And that which should accompany old age — As honour, love, obedience, troops of friends — I must not look to have ; but, in their stead, Curses, not loud, but deep." Francisco Zurbaran, whose life does not offer any amusing incidents, was born at Fuente de Cantos, in Estremadura, in the early part of November 1598. His parents belonged to the agricultural labouring class, but wl:en their son manifested his predilection for art, and ZURBARAN 291 id her s were of the econd, eld an they discovered his ability, they had the good sense to encourage him to prosecute the profession to which his genius inclined him, and accordingly, when still ver}' young, they sent him to study the art under Juan de Roclas, at Seville. There he made rapid progress, paint- ing constantly from nature, and adopting a forcible style, which acquired him the name of "the Spanish Caravaggio." His earliest pictures were marked by the accuracy with which they were executed, and the special skill of the artist in delineating drapery. He made great use of the lay figure, and his draperies are generally much studied ; the Carthusians were favourite subjects with him. His fame rapidly spread, and in 1625 he was commissioned by the Marquis of Malagon to produce some paintings, as altar- pieces for the cathedral of Seville. In the same year, when under thirty years of age, he painted his famous picture of St Thomas Aquinas^ a very large work, containing some figures of colossal size, and which was designed to ornament the high altar of the chapel in the college dedicated to St Thomas in Seville. This picture is now in the Museum, at Seville. Mr Ford says : — " This master has been called ' the Spanish Caravaggio,' " but he adds : — " He was a far greater and Titianesque painter." " The studier of style," he adds, in another passage, " will notice the peculiar pinky tone of this master, especially in female cheeks, the pre- valent use of rouge at that time influenced his eye, as it did that of Velasquez. Where, indeed, shall we find a Caravaggio equal to Zurbaran's noble picture, formerly in the college of St Tomas?" (sic). The Pieta of the Italian master in the Vatican, though fine, does not, in ■i^M—^*ih«>f«i*i i'w^iiW ■> I III " ' 292 ZURBARAN my opinion, come near it. I have been told that, when hung in the Louvre with all the masterpieces of Italy beside it, it kept its place. This picture was painted in 1625. The Virgin and Christ are above in glory with St Paul and St Dominic, whilst below is St Thomas Aquinas with the four Doctors of the Latin Church ; nearest of all kneel the luTiperor Charles V., in his imperial crown and mantle, and the Archbishop Diego Deza, who was the founder of the college. The two latter figures are inimitable ; nor is the figure of St Jerome, with his uplifted finger and the expres- sion of deep thought on his face, at all less striking. A broad mass of shadow is thrown across the lower part, but the background is sunny ; the composition is simple, and the style severe and massive. The head of St Thomas was a portrait of Don Augustin de Escobar. This picture is now in the Museum, at Seville, where, according to Captain Widdrington, it can scarcely be seen. VVilkie does not seem to have paid much attention to any Spanish pictures, except those of Murillo and Velasquez; yet even he says in his journal : — " He saw the Francisco Zurbaran, in the Santa Tomaso, a superb picture, which placed that master next to Murillo, and in a style that he could wish the great painter of Seville had in some degree followed." Most of the other productions of this period of his life were intended for the same purpose, and many of them still adorn the churches and monastery chapels in Seville and its neighbourhood. In the Museum of Seville there are several of his pictures ; one in particular, San Bruno in Deep Hianility before the Pope, is considered not only one of the best pictures in Seville, but few better in Spain. The collection of the Pardo, at Madrid, contains ZURBARAN 293 , when ■ beside 1 1625. 'aul and vith the neel the itle, and r of the Dr is the e expres- sing. A part, but aple, and Lomas was lire is now 3 Captain ion to any /■elascpez ; Francisco are, which e that he )me degree period of id many of chapels in of Seville icular, ^Sa/' sidered not w better in d, contains n fourteen ; the Museum, at Cadiz, several. Zurbaran's works are uncommon out of Spain. I have only seen four or five of his pictures : one in the National Gallery, London, a Franciscan Monk Kneeling in Prayer^ holding a Skull in his Hands, considered a very fine picture ; and two in the Royal Gallery, at Munich, the Virgin and St John returning Home from the Tomb of the Saviour, Weeping, and St Jerome in Profound Meditation, holding a Skull; one in the Royal Gallery, at Dresden, and two in the Louvre. The great picture-robber, Marshal Soult, brought the pictorial spoils of the Peninsula to the Galleries of the Louvre. A consider- able number of Zurbaran's pictures are still there, but they are not the best specimens of his art. In England, the Duke of Sutherland, and in Scotland, Sir William Stirling- Maxwell, possess a few of his works. Velasquez caused him to be summoned to Madrid, about 1633, where he produced a number of his best pictures, which still orna- ment the Royal Palace. He was made painter to the king, as his signature on one of his pictures, formerly in the "Cartuxa" of Xeres, shows. Palomino tells us that Philip IV. stopped one day to look at him whilst at work, and, laying his hand on the artist's shoulder, saluted him as "Pintor del Rey y Rey de los Pintores" — "Painter of the King, and King of the Painters." Zurbaran is said to have died at the Court, in 1662 ; but other accounts affirm that, for some reason or other, he left the capital, and returned to his native city, Seville, where he died in the year pre- viously mentioned. Zurbaran is one of the most highly esteemed of the Spanish painters ; his style is clear, vigorous, and original. His principal scholars were Bernabe de Ayala and the brothers Polanco, distinguished masters of the school 294 VELASQUEZ \ of Seville. He is scarcely known in England, nor indeed anywhere out of Spain ; and the records of his private life are meagre and unsatisfactory, and not to be obtained with- out deep research, amongst the archives of Seville and Madrid. Don Diego Rodriguez de Silva y Velasquez was born of good family, at Seville, in the spring of 1599, the same year as Vandyck. His father, Juan Rodriguez de Silva, was of Por- tuguese extraction, and followed the legal profession at Seville. His mother's name was Geronima Velasquez. Diego received a sound education ; but, as one of his early biographers, Palomino, writes, " he was, like Nicholas Poussin, more diligent in drawing on his grammars and copy-books than in using them for their legitimate purposes." He gave early evidence of a decided taste for drawing, which his father, wisely estimating, placed him with the painter, Francisco Herrera the elder, a harsh, violent, pas- sionate iiian, but a bold, spirited artist. Herrera frequently broke fortii in fits of passionate anger against his students; and the young Velasquez, being a lad of gentle and kindly manners, grew weary of the rough usage, and could ill brook the tyranny of his master, whom he left, after a somewhat short period of probation, and entered the school of Fran- cisco Pacheco, " a busy scholar, a polished gentleman, and a slow and laborious painter," timid and cold, the very opposite of Herrera. His new instructor, however, was perhaps less calculated to develope the hidden stores of the genius of Velasquez than the master whom he had recently quitted ; and the young painter began at length to discover that, after all, nature was the best teacher. Acting I HI > VELASQUEZ 295 on this conviction, he resolved neither to sketch nor to colour any object without having it before him. To carry out his intentions with respect to that especial branch of art in which he desired to excel, he kept a peasant lad as an apprentice, whom he sketched in every conceivable atti- tude, and thus laid the foundation of his success in after life. He made him take different postures — sometimes laughing, sometimes crying — till he had grappled with every difficulty of expression, and from him he executed a variety of heads in charcoal and chalk, by which he arrived at cer- tainty in taking likenesses. His detractors used to say that he could paint a head, and nothing else ; but a moment's reflection would have taught them that the Spanish Van- dyck, when he chose to descend to the Fcria, could rival his townsman Murillo. After spending five years in the house of Pacheco, he married his master's daughter, Juana. Pacheco himself gives the following account of the match : — " Diego de Silva Velasquez, my son-in-law, properly occupies the third place, to whom, after five years of education and instruction, I gave my daughter in marriage — moved by his virtue, his purity, and his good parts, as well as by the hopes derived from his great natural genius. The honour of being his master is greater than that of being his father-in-law, and therefore it is just to overthrow the boldness of a certain person wh^ wishes to claim this glory, depriving me of the crown of mj declining years. I hold it to be no disgrace that the pupil should surpass the master. Leonardo da Vinci did not lose anything by having Raphael for his pupil; nor Giorgione, Titian ; nor Plato, Aristotle." To those who suggested Raphael to him as a model, he 'ill I, I . fl 11 296 VELASQUEZ used to reply, that " he would rather be the first of vulgar, than the second of refined painto's." He was essentially a naturalist : he acquired facility by painting fruit, fish, and inanimate objects; such pictures, in short, as the Spaniards call " Bodegones." This was his artistic course throughout his whole life. " Tell me not," he seemed to say to all critics, " what is spiritual, ideal, poetical, but tell me what is real, earthly, human, and I shall paint that." The style of Caravaggio and Ribera was that which he first imitated. Two of his pictures of this period may yet be seen ; one is the Adoration of the Shepherds, the other is the Water- carrier, called El Agiiador de Sevilla, now at Apsley House, the residence of the Duke of Wellington. This is a magnifi- cent specimen of breadth and force of truth, in which we see distinctly the J?enius of Velasquez. He painted men as if they would walk out of the frames. At the age of twenty-three, having exhausted all the stores of artistic knowledge which Seville could offer, he set out for Madrid, in April 1622, to study the works, and examine the Italian pictures collected in the royal galleries in that city. After some months stay at the Pardo and Escurial, he re- turned again to Seville, only to leave it on a second and more successful visit to Madrid. Attended by his slave, Juan Pareja, who afterwards rose to eminence as a pain- ter, Velasquez set out for the capital. They lodged at the house of Fonseca, a patron of art, and a warm friend of Velasquez, whose portrait brought the young Sevillian into notice. On the evening of the day when he had completed the portrait of Fonseca, it was taken to the palace and exhibited to the King and Court, when the artist was at once admitted into the Royal service. He was now on the J.^ VELASQUEZ 297 high road to fortune. He painted the king on an Anda- lusian charger, '* the best horseman of all Spain," and he received much praise on the exhibition of the painting in front of the church of San Felipe el Real, in the high street of Madrid. His majesty had never been painted before — so spake the prime minister, so thought the king — and he resolved that henceforward Velasquez should have the monopoly of his royal countenance — a vow which he characteristically broke in favour of Rubens and Croyer. Both sonnets and ducats poured in upon the young painter ; and, what he probably valued more, he was chosen painter-in-ordinary to the king, on 31st October 1623. His salary was doubled. His family was ordered to Madrid, and he was provided with apartments in the treasury worth 200 ducats a-year. To portray the Royal family was henceforward his chief duty. The same year he painted the Topers^ which, for force of character and strength of colouring, has never been excelled. When the Prince of Wales, afterwards Charles I., visited Madrid, in 1623, on his romantic excursion, accompanied by Buckingham, he sat to Velasquez, who made a sketch of him, but the prince's departure prevented its completion. He, however, honoured Velasquez with his notice, and made him a present o'i a hundred crowns. The wand of Usher of the Royal chamber was gained by him as a prize offered by Philip for the best picture of a subject named by the king; the other competitors being Carducho, Caxes, and Nardi, all of them far more ex- perienced than himself, he being then under thirty years of age. The picture was hung in the great hall of the Alcazar, and is supposed to have been burnt in the fire which 298 VELASQUEZ ''■V. m happened there in 1735. The office of Usher was almost immediately followed by that of Gentleman of the Royal Chamber, a post of considerable pecuniary value, indepen- dent of the honour attaching to it ; and the favours of the king were still further shown by his giving Velasquez's father three appointments in the Government's law offices, at Seville, each of the annual value of 1000 ducats. In 1628 Rubens visited Spain for the second time, and remained there nine months. ''With painters," says Pacheco, " he had little intercourse ; with my son-in-law alone he became a friend (he had corresponded with him before), and showed much favour to his works on account of his modesty ; they visited the Escurial together." In 1629 he visited Italy, and embarked at Barcelona, on loth August, with the Marquis of Spinola. He proceeded to Venice, where he made some stay. The ambassador lodged him in his house, and invited him to his own table. The state of the city was such, that when he went out he was accompanied by a guard from the embassy. Urban VIII. was Pope, and was far from friendly to the Spanish Court, but he received Velasquez, on his arrival at Rome, most favourably, and gave him unrestricted access to the works of Raphael and Michael Angelo, which he studied diligently ; but it does not appear that these studies had any influence on his style, so far as his subsequent works indicate. Nothing could turn him from the path in which he had originally set out ; it was of his own forming, and he adhered to it to the end. The artist, soon after his arrival in Rome, had taken up his residence at the Villa Medici, on the Pincian Hill, which commands a most extensive view of the whole city, the Campagna, and the 11 VELASQUEZ 299 yellow windings of the Arno and Tiber. After remaining there two months, an attack of fever and malaria compelled him to leave his beautiful residence ; he was carried down to the city, and lodged either near to or in, for writers differ upon the point, the palace of the Conte' de Monterey, the Spanish ambassador at the Papal Court. The Count was a patron of art, and watched carefully over Velasquez until he had completely recovered. He spent nearly a year in Rome, and during that period painted his own Portrait^ the Eorge of Vulcan, and Joseph's Coat, all intensely Spanish, in spite of the grandeur and examples of Italian art so constantly before him. From Rome he proceeded to Naples, where he made ■ the acquaintance of Ribera, and executed a portrait of the Queen of Hungary, Mariana, sister of Philip IV., and wife of Ferdinand HI. He returned to Madrid in the spring of 1631, when he was kindly received by Olivares, as well as by the king, who was that clever minister's tool. The king gave orders to have his studio removed to the northern gallery of the Alcazar, for the purpose, it is presumed, of having the favoured artist nearer the private apartments of royalty. Here, Pacheco informs us, Philip was almost daily in the habit of visiting Velasquez, introducing himself at pleasure by means of a private key; and here he would sometimes sit for his portrait, occasionally for hours at a time. In 1639 he produced the Crucifixion, one of his noblest pictures, executed for the nunnery of San Placido, at Madrid. It remained there in a very neglected state, till Joseph Buonaparte removed it to Paris. It was sub- sequently exposed for sale in the French capital, and 300 VELASQUEZ purchased by the Duke of San Fernando, who presented it to the Royal Gallery of Madrid. Stirling says of it: — "Never was that great agony more powerfully depicted. The head of our Lord droops on His right shoulder, over which falls a mass of dark hair, while drops of blood trickle from His thorn-pierced brow. The anatomy of the naked body and limbs is executed with as much precision as in Cellini's marble, which may have served Velasquez as a model." About this time he painted the celebrated portrait of Admiral Adrian Palido Pareja, of which Palomino relates the following anecdote, most complimentary to the artist : — It was full length, and when completed was placed in a corner of the studio. The king, Philip IV., coming in one morning, according to his usual custom, mistaking the picture for the real person of his gallant officer, who had recently been ordered into commission, rebuked him, or rather the canvas, somewhat angrily at his delay : " What, are you still here ? you have received your orders, why are you not gone?" This picture bore the date 1639. In 1642 Velasquez accompanied Philip and his court on his journey into Arragon. They, however, stopped some time at the fair Aranjuez, where the Castilan monarchs possessed a beautiful palace, situated amidst lovely scenery ; here Velasquez amused himself sketching some of the enchanting spots to be found in the gardens. The Court then moved on to Cuenca and Molina, and at length reached Saragossa; " a progress," says Stirling, "which must have offered the artist an opportunity of studying the picturesque in military affairs." In 1643 the original patron of the painter, the Count Bik VELASQUEZ 301 Duke of Olivares, was disgraced and banished to Toro, which he never left until his remains were transferred to Leeches, the convent decorated at his expense by the })encil of Rubens. Velasquez continued to show respect to the fallen favourite, but his own position with the king does not appear to have changed ; Philip did not resent his fidelity to his patron. In November 1648 Philip despatched Velasquez to make a second journey to Italy, to collect works of art of various kinds, and also to procure models of sculpture. Passing through Granada, where, no doubt, he held familiar inter- course with his fellow artist, Alonso Cano, he embarked at Malaga, and landed at Genoa, where he remained a few days to inspect the works of art which the maritime rival of Venice contained, especially Vandyck's portraits of her noblesse. From Genoa he proceeded to Milan, Padua, ana Venice ; then, passing on to Bologna, he was met at the entrance of the city by the Count of Sena, and a large company of Bo- lognese cavaliers, who conducted him to the palace of the Count, where he was lodged and treated with marked distinc- tion. Parma and Florence were his next halting places. In the latter he made the acquaintance of Pietro de Cortona, Carlo Dolci,and Salvator Rosa; passing then rapidly through Rome, he proceeded to Naples ; and after staying there a short time returned again to the imperial city, and remained in it more than twelve months. During his residence there he painted the glorious portrait of Pope Innocent X., in the Doria Palace, which, Mr Ford says, is the only real specimen of his art now in Rome ; although, according to Palomino, he painted a good many other portraits there during his visit. In 1650 he became a member of the Academy of St Luke \ 302 VELASQUEZ and, in 1651, Velasquez was summoned home by his sov- ereign, who became impatient for his return. On reach- ing Madrid he was at once rewarded for the labours of his journey by being appointed Aposentador Mayor of the king's household, a post of great trust and honour, but often associated with irksome duties, and contributing, in no small measure, to draw the painter away from his studio. His last great work, which, writes Mr Stirling, "artists, struck by the difficulties encountered and overcome, have generally considered his masterpiece, is the large picture well known in Spain as Las Meninas, the Maids of Ho7iour. It is said that Philip IV., who came every day with the queen to see the picture, remarked, when it was finished, that one thing was yet wanting ; and, taking up a brush, painted the knightly insignia with his own royal fingers on the figure of the artist (which appeared in the picture), thus conferring the accolade with a weapon not recognised in chivalry." But Velasquez was not actually invested with the Order of a Knight of Santiago till three years afterwards, inasmuch as the old Spanish nobility took offence at so high a distinction being conferred on a man whom they considered of inferior birth ; and they resented it to such a degree, that it was necessary to procure a dispensation from the Pope ere the difficulties could be removed. Mr Ford has truly said : — "Madrid is the only home of the mighty Andalusian, for here is almost his entire work. From having been exclusively the court painter his works were monopolised by his royal patron ; and, being in the palace of Joseph, were tolerably respected even by those generals of Buonaparte who knew their mercantile value. Here, there- fore, alone^ is he to be studied in all his Protean variety of VELASQUEZ 303 [)ower." The Royal gallery, at Madrid, contains no less than sixty-two pictures by this great master. One, very remark- able, is the picture of St Paul, the Hermit, and St Anthony fed by a Raven in the Desert ; in the back ground the two lions are excavating the grave of Paul, whilst Anthony is pray- ing over the body. The execution of this work is magnifi- cent. Wilkie says : — *' Velasquez, a surprising fellow! The Hermit in a Rocky Desert pleased me much, also a Dark Wood at Nightfall^' He also remarks : — " Velascjuez is the only Spanish i>ainter who seems to have made an attempt in land- scape ; I have seen some of his most original and daring. Titian seems to be his model; and, although he lived before the time of Claude, he appears to have combined the breadth and picturesque effect for which that great painter was remarkable." The number of portraits by Velasquez in the Royal collec- tion is between forty and fifty, of which seven or eight repre- sent Philip IV. As a portrait painter he stands on the same level as Vandyck and Titian, but his figures have greater reality than most of the portraits executed by either of these masters ; though he often falls short of the elegance of Van- dyck, and is inferior in brilliancy and colour to Titian. In the Spanish collection, at Paris, there are nineteen of his pictures ; but it is thought that the greater part of them are not genuine. The writer in the " Kunstblatt" says, how- ever, that one of them, the Portrait of Doria /nana Eminente, is certainly genuine, and very fine. " The eyes," he says, "of this charming Spaniard do not look, they speak ; the model of her head is wonderfully beautiful ; it is a glorious countenance, with a most seducing mouth, and a still more seducing smile playing around it." 304 VELASQUEZ In the Royal Gallery, at Munich, there is one good pic- ture of Velasquez — the Portrait of Cardinal RosJ>igliosi ; three in the Royal Gallery, at Dresden ; two in the Royal Gallery of the Belvedere, at Vienna — Portrait of Philip IV. of Spain ^ and Portrait of an Imbecile^ the latter a remarkable picture ; in the Palazzo Balbi, at Genoa, a Portrait of Philip II. of Spain, in his usual striking manner ; in the Uffizi Gallery, at Florence, a remarkable Portrait of Philip IV. of Spain on Horseback, the figures life size; in the Pitti Palace, Florence, Portrait of a Man; and in our o\vn National Gallery, London, several. Also in the Dulwich Gallery there are a few ; and at Hampton Court are Por- traits of Philip IV. of Spain and his Queen, Isabel de Bourbon, sister of Henrietta Maria. There are many other pictures in private collections ; Lord Ashburton, the Mar- quis of Westminster, the Duke of Sutherland, the Duke of Wellington, the Duke of Bedford, Sir Thomas Baring, and Lord Radnor have each some fine pictures of Velasquez. The post of Aposentador Mayor [Quartermaster], to which Velas([uez had been appointed, rendered it necessary for him to be a constant attendant on the king's person when- ever he left the capital ; and the duties of this oftice were the immediate cause of his death. It was generally sup- posed that the exertions he made in providing the royal quarters, on the occasion of the conference at the Isle of Pheasants, in the river Bidassoa, a neutral spot of ground, in June 1660, which led to the marriage of Louis XIV. with the Infanta Maria Teresa, caused his illness. It was his business to find lodgings for Philip and his immediate suite, and the monarch travelled with a train of oriental magnitude. When the latter set out on this expedition, he VELASQUEZ 30s was followed by tiirco thousand mules, eighty-two horses, seventy coaches, and seventy baggage waggons, "while the baggage of the royal bride alone would have served for a small army." The cavalcade extended six miles in length. On the 26th of June, the royal party again reached Madrid. The restoration of Velas([uez was a matter of surprise and joy to his family, for a report of his death had reached them, and he found them bewailing his untimely end. He returned in tolerable health, although much fatigued with the journey. But the tongue of rumour had spoken in the spirit of prophecy ; his worldly work was done ; but he contrived to attend to his daily business, and to perform his official duties at the palace. After having been in attendance on the king during the greater part of the day, on the feast of St Ignatius Loyola, the 31st of July, Velas- (juez retired to his bed, feverish and unwell. The following morning the symptoms of his malady, spasmodic affection in the stomach, increased alarmingly ; and, though he was attended by the most eminent physicians of the Court, they were unable to arrest the progress of the disease. He lingered till the 7th August 1660, and then expired, in the sixty-second year of his age, to the great regret of the king, and of all, both high and low, who had become accjuainted with him. His corpse, dressed in the full costume of a Knight of Santiago, lay for two days in state, and was interred with much pomp in the church of San Juan, at Madrid. His widow, Juana Pacheco, survived him only sc\cn days, and was buried in the same tomb. The church of San Juan was pulled down by the French in 181 1. Velasquez was somewhat deficient in ideal conception ; he was neither a poet nor an enthusiast ; nature was his ' r >'*■' tmi 306 ALONSO CANO guide His character was such as to gain him universal esteem — open, generous, grateful for benefits, .of great intel- ligence and energ}^, and of a most gentle temper. Though flattered by the great, and a Court favourite, he passed through life without making an enemy or losing a friend. " How could my tongue Take pleasure, and be lavish in thy praise ! I low could I speak thy nobleness of nature, Thy open, manly heart, thy courage, constancy, And inborn truth, unknowing to dissemble ! Thou art the man in whom my soul delights, In whom, next heaven, I trust." Alonso Cano, born in 1600 or 1601, at the city of Granada, one of the most vigorous of the Spanish painters, was called by some the Michael Angelo of Spain, from his excelling in the three branches of painting, statuary, and architecture. His father, Miguel Cano, was a native of La Mancha, but had settled at Granada as a designer and carver of retablos. Others say that his father had attained eminence as an rr '/..jct. Be this as it may, he, by advice of Juan del Castillo, afterwards removed his residence to Seville. After studying the principles of architecture under his father, he applied himself to sculpture under the great master of the day, Juan Martineys Montanes, and then entered as one of the disciples of Pacheco of Seville, and also frequented the school of Juan del Castillo, in the same city. It has been suspected that Cano profited by certain antique statues which were in the collection of the Duke de Alcala, in the house known at Seville as " La Casa de Pilatos." At any rate, there is a grace and a simplicity about some of his works, both in sculpture and painting, ALONSO CANO 307 .niversal at intel- Though ; passed iend. e city of L painters, , from his iiary, and ive of La itiner and \ attained bv advice idence to ure under the great and then ville, and the same by certain Duke do Casa de simphcity which seem to indicate a study of better models than the productions of the masters under whom he learnt his art. He must have been very industrious, from the number of specimens of his genius which he has left in Spain, par- ticularly at Seville, Malaga, Granada, and Madrid. Among the works of sculpture which he made, there were two colossal figures of St Peter and St Paul, of such excellence that the Flemish artists are said to have come to Seville for the purpose of copying them. His coloured retablo in the parish church of Labriga, executed in 1630, is con- sidered singularly beautiful, and there are some beautiful carved figures in the cathedral of Granada. In the church of St Nicolas, at Murcia, there is an exquisite St Antonio, carved in wood, in a brown Capuchin dress, about eighteen inches high, called " the gem of Murcia ;" and the head of St Paul, in the cathedral of Granada, is wonderfully exe- cuted; but placed as it is in a glass case, and being the size of life, coloured, it produces all the effect of an ana- tomical preparation. He had great boldness of design, facility with his pencil, great jiurity in his flesh tints, and a knowledge of chiaroscuro. He was high spirited, but of an ungovernable temper ; and possessing the true Spanish pride of noble birth, to which he had a claim, he refused at first to take money for his productions, alleging that they were as yet only efforts for his own improvement. Hie same warmth of disposition having involved him in a (juarrel with Sebastian dc Llanos, an eminent painter, whom he challenged and wounded in a duel, he was obliged to quit Seville, which he did in the suite of the Count Duke Olivares; and under the protection of that minister he came to ALadrid, where he found a protector in his former fellow- 3oS ALONSO CANO pupil, Velasquez. He was soon created first royal architect, king's painter, and instructor to Prince Don Balthazar (Carlos. His talents had now an ample field for their display. He improved the Royal palaces and city gates, and erected an admired triumphal arch for the entrance of Mariana of Austria, second consort to Philip IV. He furnished churches and the Imperial College, Madrid, with pictures, and his reputation and prosperity were at their summit, but he became proportionally the mark of detrac- tion, which accused /lim of plagiarism in the composition of his pictures. A much worse charge, however, awaited him, which influenced the fortune of his whole after life. Return- ing home one evening, he found his wife murdered, his house pillaged, and an Italian servant journeyman no more to be met with. Though this person seemed the proper object of suspicion, yet the magistrates, discovering that Cano had been jealous of the Italian, and was attached to another woman, thought fit to charge him with the murder. He had to fly, causing it to be reported that he had gone to Portugal, and took refuge in Valencia, where the practice of his art soon betrayed him. He then sought an asylum in a Carthusian convent near that city, and for some time seemed determined on taking Orders; but its austerities deterred him, and he was rash enough to return to Madrid, and conceal himself in the house of his father-in-law. For want of caution he was apprehended in the streets, and delivered to the torture in order to compel a confession. He endured the rack with- out uttermg anything to criminate himself; and the king took him again into favour. In 165 1 he obtained from the Crown a stall as Racionero, ALONSO CANO 309 or minor canon, in the cathedral of Granada, on condition of taking Orders within the year. This space of time was twice enlarged, but as he failed to comply with the condition, the Chapter ejected him from his preferment. He was afterwards ordained sub-deacon on the title of a chaplaincy to the Bishop of Salamanca. The king then caused his stall to be restored to him, with the arrears, and he enjoyed it till his death. In this situation he enriched the churches of Granada and Malaga with many paintings and sculptures. Cano's character was singular and violent. He acted without reflection, but was charitable to the poor, and his finer feelings appear to have been developed in the pensive melancholy and tender expression he bestowed upon his Virgins and Saints. Some of the anecdotes which Pr.lomino relates are so characteristic, not only of the man, but of the time and of the country, that it is worth while to extract them. " An auditor [oidor] of the Chancery of Granada bore especial devotion to St Anthony of Padua, and wished for an image of the Saint from the hands of Cano. When the figure was finished, the judge came to see it, and liked it much. He inquired what money the artist expected for his work. The answer was, ' One hundred doubloons ' [about ;^3oo]. The amateur was astonished, and asked 'How many days might he have spent upon it?' Cano replied, ' Some five and twenty days.' * Well,' said the Oidor, 'that comes to four doubloons a-day?' 'Your lordship reckons wrong,' answered Cano, ' for I have spent fifty years learning how to execute in twenty-five days.' 'That is all very well, but I have spent my patrimony and my youth studying at the university, and in a higher % I i: I \\'\ \ lit 310 ALONSO CANO l)rofession ; now here I am, oidor in Granada, and if I get a doubloon a day it is as much as I do.' Cano had scarcely patience to hear him out — ' A higher profession, indeed 1' he exclaimed ; ' the kin:^ can make judges out of the dust of the earth, but it is reserved for God alone to make an Alonso Cano:' saying this, he took up the figure and dashed it to pieces on the pavement ; whereupon the oidor escaped as fast as he could, not feeling sure that Cano's fury would confine itself to the statue." If we are to believe Palomino, it was owing to the offence taken by so great a man as an oidor of Granada, " where they are venerated like deities upon earth," that the Canons determined on declaring Cano's prebend vacant on account of the non-fulfilment of the condition of taking Orders. It is said, however, that the king restored him, on the con- dition of his finishing a magnificent crucifix which the king had bespoken, but which he had long neglected. From this time he led a life of charity and devotion ; and when without money, he would sketch a drawing upon paper, and give it to a beggar, directing him whither to carry it for sale. Cano had an insufferable repugnance for any persons tainted with Judaism, or who had come under the suspicion of the Cliurch. If he met a Jew in the street, he would cross to the other side, or get out of the way into a passage of a house. If he touched a Jew in the street, he instantly sent his servant home for another cloak, or another doublet, and gave the polluted one over to his attendant. It appears that in Granada the unhappy persons who wqtq pefufenciados, that is, who had been subjected to penance by the Inquisi- tion, were in the habit of getting what they could to support themselves by selling linen and other articles about the ALONSO CANO ;n streets ; they, of course, wore the Sombenih\ or habit pre- scribed by the Holy office as the external mark of their backslidings. On one occasion he had slightly touched one of those unfortunates, and desired to change his dress, when his servant remonstrated with him, and said, " It \\as the slightest touch in the world, sir, it cannot matter," ** Not matter ! you scoundrel," he said, " in such things as these, everything matters." On one occasion Cano's housekeeper, with an excess of audacity, had actually brought one of these penitenciados into the house, and was buying some linen of him ; a dispute about the price caused high words, and the master came, hearing a disturbance. What could he do ? He could not defile himself by laying hands on the miscreant, who got away whilst the artist was looking for some weapon which he could use without the risk of touching him. But the house- keeper had to fly to a neighbour's ; and it was only after many entreaties, and after performing a rigorous quarantine, and undergoing purification, that she was received back agam. Cano was a great painter; his colouring was good, his execution vigorous, the taste of his draperies, and his forms in general, pure ; in the expression of his figures he was full of sentiment and tenderness, without being feeble or affected. The cntic in the "Kunstblatt" speaks thus of his works in the Spanish Museum of the Louvre : — '* The second room is rich in masterpieces ; we find in it more than thirty Murillo's ; two large pictures of Alonso Cano's have the next claim to our attention — the one represents the Deposition from the Cross, and is extraordinarily like a Vandyck; the other, fB 312 ALONSO CANO Baalam and his Ass, may be called a very remarkable picture. We have to admire the simple and straightforward mamier in which this excellent artist has conceived his sub- ject, and extracted from it all the aid which it was capable of affording, him. He has in this picture produced a master})iece, probably without any suspicion that he had done so ; for nothing can exceed the simplicity and natural feeling with which the subject is presented to us. The manner of Cano, as a painter, is soft, rich, and pleasing; he might be called the Spanish Correggio, as much with reference to his execution as to the character of his genius ; his free and fertile pencil worked gracefully and naturally, without effort, and without ever sacrificing correctness of drawing. With regard to his colouring, it is rich and fine, but a little smoky ; the outlines consequently appear some- what indistinct when one is close, though the detail and purity of the form may be seen at a certain distance from the picture." Kiigler says : — " In the New Spanish Museum there are twenty-one of his pictures. Like other Spanish masters he has painted his own portrait more than once. The Royal Gallery, at Madrid, contains eight Cano's ; one of these, the Christ at the Cohcmn, came from the Escurial ; of the remainder, the Deposition of the Body of Christ, sup- ported and wept over by an Angel is a splendid work ; and the head of St Jerome Meditating on the Last Judgment is really magnificent. There are also fine pictures in the Cathedral of Seville, and in the University. In the Church of Monte Sion, in the same city, is a long picture of Purga- tory, which is very striking ; one female head is especially beautiful, with the flakes of fire running off it ; the flames ALONSO CANO zn below give no light : according to the conception of Milton — "A dungeon horrible ! on all sides round As one great furnace flamed, yet from these flames ■ No light — but rather darkness visible Served only to discover sights of woe." Cano's pictures are very little known out of Spain. There are none in the National Gallery of England, and I only know of two : one in the Royal Gallery of Dresden, the Apostle Paul ; and one in the Royal Gallery, at Munich, the Virgin appearing to St A?itho?iy, and Presenting to him the Infant Jesus. During his latter days he lived in the parish of Santiago, in which quarter was the prison of the Inquisition. The priest of the parish visited him on his death-bed, and pro- posed to administer the Sacraments to him after confession. Cano quietly asked him whether he was in the habit of administering it to the Jews, on whom penance was imposed by the Holy office ; the priest replied that he was. " Well, then," said Cano, " Senor Liceniodo, go with God (Se vaya con Dios), and do not trouble yourself to call again, for the priest who administers the Sacraments to the penitent Jews shall not administer them to me." Accordingly he sent for the priest of the parish of St Andrew. This last, however, gave offence in another form \ he put into the artist's hands a crucifix of indifferent execution ; Cano desired him to take it away. The priest was so shocked that he thought him possessed, and was on the point of exorcising him , "My son," he said, "what dost thou mean? This is the Lord who redeemed thee, and who must save thee." " 1 I i.: 314 MURILLO know that well," was the painter's answer, "but do you want to provoke me with that wretched thing, so as to give me over to the Devil? Let me have a simple cross, for with that I can reverence Christ in faith ; I can worship Him as He is Himself, and as I contemplate Him in my own mind." This was done, and Alonso died, in 1667, in the most exemplary manner, edifying the by- standers with his piety. He was buried in the vault below the Choir of the Cathedral of Granada. Bartolome Este'ban Murillo, the greatest ecclesiastical painter of Spain, was born at Seville in 161 7, and was bap- tised on I St January 16 18. He was son of Caspar Esteban Murillo and Maria Perez. His parents, struck with the originality of the sketches which the boy made on every available surface which he could find, resolved to place him under the care of a relative, Juan del Castillo, who taught him the mechanical part of the profession with care and exactness, and Murillo, having shown a decided ability for the art, proved an apt and docile scholar. In those days the student of art at Seville had few aids to the acquisition of knowledge beyond a few casts or stray pieces of sculpture, but Murillo studied objects of still life, and sketched, with genial humour, the ragged urchins in the market-place of Seville. Murillo, in a few years, painted as well as his master, and in the same stiff manner ; but, as Castillo removed to Cadiz in 1639-40, he was thrown upon his own resources. The school of Zurbaran was beyond the reach of the poor lad ; his parents were either dead or too poor to help him, and he was compelled to earn his bread by painting rough I MURILLO 315 pictures for the Fcria, or public fliir of Seville. Murillo was, however, clear-sighted enough to notice the defects of his first master, and aspired to something better, by studying the great works of Rubens and Zurbaran, which were to be found in the churches at Seville, and it is evident that he began to imitate them. Walter Thornbury, in his pleasant sketches of "Artists and their Models," gives a graphic account of Murillo shortly before his memorable journey to Madrid : — " We look for Murillo, and find him at last in a quiet corner, hemmed in behind a sort of stand, on which his saints and fruit pieces are spread, sheltered from the intolerable sun by a well-tanned awning. A picture of a beggar boy eating a pie, watched by another who is throwing dice, and by a wistful dog, is on his easel before him. And what sort of a stripling is this Murillo of Seville ? Why, a keen, black- eyed Andalusian lad, with rather a square, firm jaw, a bold nose, and vivacious, arched eye-brows. His upper lip is long, it is true, but the lower is full fleshed, kindly, and humorous. His wiry, black brows, and his thin, slight mustachio and imperial, conduce also to a certain elastic and versatile acuteness that specially mark his good-natured, gentle, and yet spirited face. His dark hair is beautiful, and falls in rich, waving masses upon his well-made shoulders. His forehead is high, full, and swelling with genius and humour. There is no fear the orphan painter will long be a denizen of the Thursday fair, or long toil to sell religious daubs to adorn Mexican and West Indian churches. Soon will come the time when he will have, in the Palace of the Escurial, to doff that faded old grey doublet and little black cloak for cloth of gold and satin of azure. 3i6 MUIULLO " See, he is rending a letter from liis old master, Castillo, just received from Cadiz '* ' To Grind Gold. — Mix gold-leaf with four drops of honey, and put in a small glass vessel, diluting it for use with Arabian gum-water.' Dear master, when am I to get gold to grind? Is it to be picked up amidst these pot- sherds and old iron? But dear Castillo was ever a fond dreamer. What else says he of these rare secrets of the Flemish painter, which he sends me as the dearest treasures of his knowledge ? " 'A little umber, with bone black and lake, forms a colour, my son, of Venetian richness for shadows.' " 'Avoid verdigris and lampblack as you would poison, and remember that asphaltum is a magical pigment, frail as friendship, deceitful as woman's love.' *' Dear master ! to remember his poor orphan, Stephen, left all alone in Seville. Ah ! here is a receipt of 'jewel value' to him who depicts the Virgin. '* * Paint the drapery with black and white, the light very strong and the shades very dark ; then powder with some Venetian azure that I send thee. I begiii to love much this fair, bright city of the sea, and regain my her.lth, though slowly, slowly. Greet for me specially of all my friends, Don Andres de Andrado. And now, with all blessings from the Virgin and the saints, my dear son in Art, fare- well!'" There are six pictures in the Royal Gallery, at Munich, in his early and most characteristic style— scenes from Spanish common life. There is in Prince Lichtenstein's splendid gallery, at Vienna, the Portrait of a Boy, and in the Dulwich Gallery, the Portrait of a Flower Girl, equal iMURILLO 317 to any produced in this style. The Duhvich Gallery is also rich in other works of this master. In 1641, in his twenty- fourth year, having, from the report of his brother artist, Pedro de Noya, who had studied in England under Van- dyck, been exceedingly anxious to make a pilgrimage to Flanders or Italy, or, as some writers say, to England, he managed, by the sale of pictures, hastily executed, to realise money sufficient to carry into effect his much-cherished design. He placed his sister under the care of friends, and, without communicating his intentions to any one, set out for Madrid. On reaching the capital, he waited on Velasfiuez, his fellow-townsman, then the Court i)ainter, who received him very kindly, offered him lodging in his own house, and procured him admission to the Royal galleries of the capital. For two years he remained with Velasquez, who became attached to the manly youth ; and here he enjoyed the masterpieces of Italy and Flanders, and occupied himself chiefly in copying from Ribera, Vandyck, and Velasijuez. In 1644 Vtlasciuez was so greatly astonished with some of his efforts, that they were submitted to the inspection of the King and Court. His kind patron now earnestly ad- vised him to go to Rome, and offered him letters of recom- mendation from the King. Murillo, however, now felt no desire to go to Italy, and he returned in the following year, 1645, to Seville. The friars of the convent of San F>ancisco, in Seville, wished to adorn the walls of their small cloister in a manner worthy of their patron saint ; but their poverty prevented their employing an artist of name to execute the work. Murillo was needy, and offered his services ; and, after duly 3i8 MURILLO •l»! balancing their own poverty against his obscurity, the friars ruefully agreed to allow him to begin the work. Murillo covered the walls with eleven large pictures of remarkable power, displaying the combined strong colouring of Ribera, the accuracy of details of Velas(iuez, and the sweetness of Vandyck. These pictures were executed in his early style, according to Ford, based on Ribera and Caravaggio, and were dark, with a decided outline. This rich collection is no longer to be met with at Seville. Soult, that robber of churches and hospitals, carried off ten of them, and Mr Ford is now in possession of the eleventh. The fame of these striking productions soon got abroad, and El Clans fro Chico was thronged with artists and critics. Murillo was no longer unknown, but was soon overwhelmed with commissions from the rich and noble of opulent Seville. In 1648 Murillo married a rich and noble lady, Doria Beatriz de Cabrera y Sotomayor, of Pilos, and his house soon became a favourite resort of people of fashion, artists, and connoisseurs. In 1658 Murillo tried to establish an Academy of Art at Seville. He had many obstacles to overcome ; but at last, by tact and good temper, he succeeded in overcoming the vanity and jealousy of Valdes Leal and Herrera the younger, and secured their co-operation. The academy was accord ingly opened for the first time on the ist January 1660. Murillo and Herrera were chosen presidents. In 1 66 1 Don Miguel Manara Vicentelo de Leca, who had turned to sanctity, after having led a life of profligacy, resolved to raise money for the restoration of the dilapidated Hospital de la Caridad, of whose pious guild he was himself a member. Manara commissioned his friend Murillo to MURILLO 319 friars [urillo rkable .ibera, less of ^ style, 0, and Seville, off ten eventh. abroad, critics, helmed Seville. Doria house artists, Art at at last, ling the lounger, I accord 1660. ^a, who )fligacy, [pidated I himself Irillo to paint eleven pictures for this edifice of San Jorge. Three represented the AnnuncLition of the Blessed Viri^in, the Infant Saviour^ and the Infant St John. The remaining eight also treat of scriptural scenes and subjects, and are considered Murillo's masteri)ieces. They consist of — Moses Striking the Rock, the Return of the Prodigal, Abraham Receiving the Three Angels, the Charity of San Juan de Dios, the Miracle of the Loaves and Fishes, Our Lord Healing the Paralytic^ St Peter Released from Prison by the Angel, and St Elizabeth of Hungary. These works occupied the artist four years, and in 1O64 he received for his eight pictures 78,000 reals, or about ;^8oo. The Moses, the Loaves and Pishes, and the San fuan are still to be found at Seville ; but the French carried off the rest. On these pictures Murillo expended all his strength, and has left in them a lasting monument of his genius. He painted many other pictures about this time, many of which are now in the Museum at Seville. In 1670 Murillo is said to have declined an invitation to Court, preferring to labour among the brown coats of Seville. The new Spanish Gallery at the Louvre contains thirty- seven i)icturcs ascribed to Murillo. The critic in the " Kunstblatt" especially mentions the Magdalen, the Con- ception, and the Annunciation. Of the second he says : — "The glow of light shed around the Virgin, and poured full, as it were, from the higher regions of heaven by the angels, is admirable. The outlines are softened by it, the tone of colour is rendered more harmonious, and the whole scene acquires a most powerful effect of a magical and misty character. The same sort of result is produced in the Annunciation''' fH m\ I i 320 MURILLO The Immaculate Conception was formerly in tlie collection of Marshal Soult, now in the Louvre. Murillo's represen- tations of this favourite subject stand unrivalled for grace and feeling ; and hence the name often applied to him, " II pintor de los Concepciones." Mrs Jameson says: — "Just as the Italian schools of painting were on the decline, the Spanish school of art arose in all its glory, and the Conception became, from the popularity of the dogma, not merely an ecclesiastical, but a popular subject. Not only every church, but almost ever)- private house, contained an effigy, either painted or carved, or both, of Our Lady, "Sin peccado concepido ;" and when the Academy of Painting was founded at Seville, in 1660, every candidate for admission had to declare his orthodox belief in the most pure conceptio7i of our Lady. Pacheco, the painter, the master of Alonso Cano and Velasquez, and the father-in-law of the latter, became a familiar of the Inquisi- tion, and wielded the authority of the Holy office as inspector of sacred pictures ; and in his " Arte de la Pintura," pub- lished in 1649, he laid down those rules for the representa- tion, which have been generally, though not always exactly, followed. In those which have dark hair, Murillo is said to have taken his daughter Francisca as a model. The number of attendant angels varies from one or two to thirty. They bear the palm, the olive, the rose, the lily, the mirror ; sometimes a sceptre and crown. I remember but few in- stances in which he has introduced the dragon-fiend, an omission which Pacheco is willing to forgive ; ' for,' as he observes, ' no man ever painted the devil with goodwill.' " Murillo's pictures are known throughout Europe : one of his finest. Virgin and Child, is in the Royal Gallery, at MURILLO 321 llection jpresen- »r grace lim, "II lools of 1 of art rom the al, but a )st every r carved, md when in 1660, orthodox heco, the , and the e Inquisi- inspector ira," pub- ^presenta- s exactly, ,0 is said .el. The to thirty, e mirror ; it few in- fiend, an ir,' as he [will.' " one of allery, at Dresden. There are two in the Pitti Palace, at Florence : one, a most lovely picture, the Virgin a?id Infafit Jesus ; the other, the Virgin and Child, with a Rosary in her Hand. But I think the finest picture of this subject is the Virgin and Child, in the Palazzo Corsini, at Rome ; it is marvel- lously beautiful. I may also refer you to his Magdalen, at Berlin ; his Madonna and Child, and Infant St John and Elizabeth, in the Museum, at Naples; and his Madonna and Child and Angels, also at Naples. In the National Gallery, London, there are three pictures, the Holy Family — one of his last works, painted when he was sixty years of age ; a Spanish Peasant Boy, in his early style ; and St JoJm and the La??ib. The Marriage of St Catherine to the Infant Saviour, in the Vatican, is also a very fine picture. The legend in the Romish church is, that St Catherine refused the offers of marriage made to her, saying that she was to be married to a heavenly spouse, that the Virgin and Infant Saviour appeared to her, that the Saviour placed a ring on her finger, which was only visible to her, and no one else, and that thenceforth she had devoted herself to heavenly meditation. Many pictures are in the possession of private gentlemen and noblemen in England, more especially in the collections of the Duke of Sutherland, Duke of Westminster, Marquis of Lansdowne, Lord Ashburton, Sir Thomas Baring, and Lords Hatherton and Radnor. Kiigler says : — " Murillo's later style, that which is most characteristic of his celebrated works, combines softness and vigour, with the finest colouring. There is in his heavenly figures a lightness and clearness which produces the effect of a texture wholly different from that of the earthly personages; !l 322 MURILLO and the contrast often gives additional value to each separate portion of the same picture. The solid flesh-like substances of the kneeling saint, or the crowd in the foreground, reminds us, by its truth and force, of the beggar boys and street scenes which the artist sometimes painted ; whilst the glori- fied beings above hover in a sort of halo of misty light. The execution harmonizes admirably with the subjects. The cold grey tones of Murillo's backgrounds serve to give full \alue to the mellow colour of his principal figures ; and in the painting of flesh, as such, he never was excelled. There can be little question that, during the latter years of Velasquez and Murillo, no school in Europe rivalled that of Spain in Portrait and in History. Rubens died in 1640. Vandyck in 1 641. The success of these masters in the school of Brabant was far inferior in energy and originality to the great Spanish artists." Murillo, mounting a scaffold one day at Cadiz to execute the higher parts of a large picture of the Espousals of St Catherine, on which he was engaged for the Capucliins of the town, stumbled, and fell so violently that he received a liurt from which he never recovered. The great picture was left unfinished, and the artist returned to his beloved Seville only to die. He died, as he had lived, a humble, pious, brave man, on the 3d of April 1682. He left behind him two sons and a daughter, his wife having died before him. Gabriel, his eldest son, was absent in America ; Caspar was c\n artist, but at the time of his father's death was in the lesser orders ; his daughter was a nun in the con\cnt of ]\Iadre de Dios, at Seville, and had taken the veil eight years before his death. The house in which Murillo lived in his latter years was in the Juderia or Jews' quarter. It is ^■J^^ MURILLO m eparate inces of ■cminds i street le glori- ty light, ts. The give full \d in the 'here can /"elasquez Spain in Vandyck school of ty to the to execute -sals of St )uchins of received a [icture was jed Seville Ible, pious, -hind him ifore him. Caspar was |vas in the tonvcnt of veil eight llo lived in Iter. It is close to the city wall, the last to the right in a small plaza at the end of the " Callejuela del Agua." His painting room, or rather his living room, for he lived to paint, was in the upper floor, and as cheerful as his works. His body was laid in the church of Santa Cruz, and, by his own desire, was covered with a stone slab bearing his name, a skeleton, and the words, "Vive Moriturus." Soult and his vandals sacked this church, and nothing of it remains but a heap of rubbish. Digging through this heap in 1823, the Sevillians found a quantity of bones in a vault, which they piously closed up again. Let us hope that the ashes of Murillo may rest in peace. Sir David Wilkie, in com- paring Velasquez and Murillo, rei larks : — " Velasquez, by his high technical excellence, is the delight of all artists; Murillo, adapting the higher subjects of art to the commonest under- standing, seems of all painters the most universal favourite." We can almost imagine that this great and good man may, when his end drew near, have exclaimed in the words of the poet — " I have lived my life, and that which I have done May He within Himself make pure ! but thou, If thou should 'st never see my face again. Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice Rise like a fountain for me night and day. For what are men better than sheep or goats, That nourish a blind life within the brain, If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer Both for themselves and those who call tlicm friends ? Fo' so the whole round earth is every way Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. But now, farewell . " 1 .1 I I.I 1 I' 1 ,i 'Ji LECTURE X. JEAN FOUQUET, FRANCOIS CLOUET, SIMON VOUET, NICHOLAS POUSSIN, CLAUDE GELLEE, PIERRE MIGNARD, GASPARD DUGHET, EUSTACELE SUEUR, CHARLES LE BRUN, JEAN JOUVENET, ALEXANDER FRANCIS DESPORTES, ANTHONY WATTEAU, CLAUDE JOSEPH VERNET, AND JEAN BAPTISTE GREUZE. There is no history more interesting than that of France, whether we consider it in its poHtical, moral, rehgious, scientific, or artistic aspect. The rapid changes and con- stant difificulties of its political life, the grave questions arising from its moral condition, the bitter struggles and dreadful atrocities of its religious wars, and fearful turbu- lence and excesses of its revolutionary periods, the uncertain humour and vacillating character of its people, their taste and originality, their love of art and science — all lead us to doubt whether or not we can estimate or judge correctly of the true and real position which France should occupy among the civilised nations of mankind. But, in the matter of Art, there can be no question that France occupies a high place. Kiigler very truly says : — " The relations of France to JEAN FOUQUET 325 Italy on the one hand, and to Flanders on the other, were such as to cause the painting of both countries to exercise a favourable influence on the French school; whilst the style of art which resulted from these influences is inferior, indeed, to that of Italy or the Low Countries in originality, it yet, in a considerable degree, unites the excellencies of both. In life, in truth, and in variety, derived from the study of nature, the French were not equal to the Flemings ; but they show more style in arrangement, more feeling in the flow of their lines, and a better taste in the drapery and ornaments." Jean Fouquet, of Tours, Court painter of Louis XI. and King Rene of Anjou, father of Margaret, wife of Henry VI. of England, was chiefly employed in illuminating books and painting miniatures. Rene, who was born in 1408 and died in 1480, was so devoted to the fine arts, that it is said he was painting a partridge when the loss of the kingdom of Naples was announced to him, and did not even take his hand from the picture. It was not, however, till the reign of Francis I., 1515 to 1547, that the history of French painting commenced. We have seen that that monarch induced Leonardo da Vinci to accompany him to France about the year 1 5 1 5 ; but Leonardo's failing health, and early death after entering France, prevented his executing any works of importance in that country, so that his influence can scarcely be said to have been felt. Andrea del Sarto also visited France, on the invitation of the king, Francis I., but soon returned to Florence, instigated by the womanish complaints of his wife, in viola- tion of his faith solemnly pledged to that monarch, and died there, at the early age of forty-two. 326 FRANCOIS CLOUET i!'! j it Jacopo Pacchiarotto, of Siena, another Italian, visited France in 1535, but left no mark behind him. Jean Cousin, who lived to extreme old age, and who flourished under Henry II., Charles IX., and Henry III., has been called the founder of the French school ; but there is more reason to attribute the establishment of a national taste to Francis Clouet, who was born in 15 10, at Tours. His father was Jean Clouet, a Fleming, settled in France, commonly called Jeannet. Jeannet was painter and valet de chambre ordinaire to Francis I. as early as 1518 ; but, as he had never been naturalised, when he died, in 1 54 1, his property was forfeited to the king. This pro- ])erty was restored to Francois Clouet, his heir, who had then the same rank as his father, in the month of November 1 541. Francois was the fourth painter of this family. He resembles, in his portraits, the style of Holbein and the Flemish painters — a taste, no doubt, derived from his paternal descent, both his father and grandfather having been born in the Low Countries, though they had settled at Tours, in France. There are several of Francois Clouet's pictures in the Louvre \ one in the National Gallery, Lon- don ; several at Hampton Court ; and others in the pos- session of the Duke of Sutherland, Earl Spencer, and Lord Carlisle. No other name of eminence appears in the sixteenth century, unless we admit Simon Vouet, bom in Paris, 1582, but who passed fourteen years in Italy, where he was re- ceived into the Academy of St Luke, and led the way in establishing a new French school. His tendency was de- cidedly naturalistic, the style of Caravaggio and Guido having both influenced him. Vouet was Court painter to -A NICHOLAS POUSSIN 327 Louis XI II., and a favourite of that monarch ; but he was soon to be eclipsed by the great painters of the seventeenth century, more especially Nicholas Poussin, who bears the most illustrious name in the whole French school. He, Claude Lorraine, Pierre Mignard, Gasj^ar Poussin, Eustace Le Sueur, Charles Le Brun, and Jean Jouvenet, all claim special notice, as well as Alexander Francis Desportes — beginning in the seventeenth and closing in the eighteenth centuries; and Anthony Watteau, Claude Joseph Vernet, and Jean Baptiste Greuze, in the eighteenth century. During the horrors of the great Revolution, one name is conspi- cuous and of unenviable notoriety, as the intimate friend of the detestable Marat, and a close ally of the equally infamous Robespierre — James Louis David — born in 1748, and died in 1825 — a man of genius, and who aspired to be the founder of the new French school of painting, with all its exaggerated and somewhat theatrical and horrific style. The present century can claim a greater name, born in 1822 j a vigorous, bold, clear delineator of animal -life, un- surpassed by ancient or modern — Rosa Bonheur — a name of which France may indeed well be proud. But let us return to the seventeenth century, and devote a short time to the painters of that period. There are few names out of the Italian schools to be compared to Nicholas Poussin, who was born at Andely, in Normandy, about June 19th, 1594. His family, of Soissons, an ancient and noble one, had become impoverished by the part they had taken on the side of royalty during the civil wars. His father rather discouraged the youth's natural taste for paint- ing; but he permitted him to make the acquaintance of l 1 i 328 NICHOLAS FOUSSIN Quentin Varin, an artist who gave him such instruction as he could offer, till, at the age of eighteen, he visited Paris, where he prosecuted his studies for a short time under some other masters, and greatly improved himself by drawing from casts, and copying prints after Raphael and Giulio Romano. He made two attempts to reach Rome, in the first of which he got as far as Florence ; on the second occasion he only reached Lyons, and was there reduced to pay his debts by his pencil, and had to return to his native place in order to re-establish his health, which was worn down by fatigue and privations. His first essays in painting were some pictures in the Church of the Capuchins, at Blois, and some bacchanalian subjects for the Chateau of Chiverny. He, however, reached Rome in 1624, when he was thirty years of age. His friend, the poet Marino, pre- sented him to the Cardinal Barberini ; but, unfortunately for Poussin, Marino left Rome, and shortly aftenvards died, and the Cardinal went on an embassy to Spain, so that Poussin was left without friends, and was reduced to dispose of his works for the merest trifle in order to obtain the means of living. He lived in the same house with Du Quesnoy, afterwards celebrated under the name of II Fiam- mingo. They were of mutual aid to one another in their studies. The painter assisted the sculptor in modelling figures from the antique, which they sold ; and while Pous- sin derived some pecuniaiy advantages from these labours, he acquired such a knowledge of the human form as became of great importance to him in his art. He studied Titian's works, and also those of Domenichino, whom he considered the first master in Rome; and also devoted some time to prac- tical anatomy, and gave much attention to the ancient bassi- NICHOLAS POUSSIN 329 rilievi, and modelled some of those works. It is said that Domenichino heard that a young Frenchman was studying his works with great care, and wished to see him ; but he was too infirm to walk to the church, where the fresco was, but caused himself to be carried thither, and conversed with Poussin. How interesting it would be had the subject of that conversation been known, and the remarks of those two great masters of art preserved ! The return of the Cardinal Barberini to Rome dispelled the dark clouds which had so long overshadowed Poussin. Soon after his return, he sent for the artist and gave him a commission to paint for him, the Death of Germanicus — one of Poussin's most celebrated pictures, which is still in the Barberini Palace, at Rome. He also painted for his patron another fine picture, the Capture of Jerusalem by Tittis, now in the Imperial Gallery, in Vienna. It was followed by the Philistines Attacked by the Plague at Ashdod^ formerly in the Colonna Palace, at Rome, now in the National Gallery, London. The reputation of Poussin now began to spread abroad, and about this time he painted the Seven Sacra7nenis, pro- bably the most celebrated of his works. The first series are in the possession of the Duke of Rutland, but one was destroyed by fire in 18 16, at Belvoir Castle. Horace Walpole, writing to the Countess of Ossary, ist December 1786, says of these pictures: — "I went t'other day, when I was in town, to see the Sacraments of Poussin that he [Reynolds] has purchased from Rome for the Duke of Rudand. I remember when I was there, a thousand years ago, that I was not much enchanted. I rather like them better now than I expected, at least two or three of them, 'f 330 NICHOLAS POUSSIN but tlicy are really only coloured bas-reliefs, and old Romans don't make good Christians. There are two of Bai)tism ; Sir Joshua said : — * What could he mean by painting two?' I said, I concluded the second was Ana- l)ai)tism." The second series, or rather a repetition of the first, with variations, were for a long time in the Orleans (iallery, in Paris ; they are now in i)ossession of the Earl of Ellesmere, in the Dridgewater Gallery, in London. Waagen says of these pictures : — " Confirmation^ Mar- riage, and Baptism are the finest in point of composition : one of the happiest motives in the last picture is taken from the celebrated cartoon of the Bathing Soldiers by Michael Angelo. The Baptism and others are peculiarly i)leasing, from the noble landscapes ; but the Communion and Extreme Unction prove that Poussin did not understand the management of night scenes : the shadows are black, and the effect of the candle-light extraordinarily red and hard." In returning home one night, when in Rome, Poussin was assaulted by some soldiers, and wounded in the hand : he also suffered from an attack of illness, during which, he was received into the family of Dughet. In 1629 he married Anna Maria Dughet, the sister of the landscape painter, who was destined to profit by Poussin's instructions, and to inherit his name. In 1639 the artist was specially invited by Louis XIII. to return to France, and in the following year he arrived in Paris, with Gaspar Dughet. He was presented to the Cardinal de Richelieu, and was afterwards received at St Germains by the king. In March 1 64 1 Poussin was named first Painter-in-Ordinary to the NICHOLAS rOUSSIN 331 king, whicli office gave him the general su])crintcndence of all works relating to the decoration of the Royal palaces. The architect, Lemercier, and the ])ainter, Vouct, had hitherto been employed upon these jniblic buildings, so that Poussin's appointment caused jealousy and ill-feeling; and, as Poussin cared not to subject himself to petty annoyances, he determined to leave France for good. In September 1641, he obtained leave to re-visit Rome, under an engagement, however, to return to France. The death of Cardinal Richelieu, and also the king, in 1643, induced Poussin to refuse to fulfil his engagement, and he remained for the rest of his life in Rome. There are two fine pictures, now in the Louvre, at Paris, which Poussin painted before he left France : one St Francis Xavicr ; the other, the Tniimph of Truth. The National Gallery of England possesses seven of his pictures, one especially considered one of his master- pieces — a Bacchanaliaji Dance, a Landscape, with a group of fauns and bacchanalian nymphs, or bacchantes, dancing in a ring, with Satyrs, etc. This picture is supposed to have been originally painted for Cardinal Richelieu. It was purchased for the National Gallery in 1826. Sir Joshua Reynolds says : — " Poussin lived and com- muned with the ancient statues so long, that he may be said to have been better acquainted with them than with the peoi)le whci were about him. I have often thought that he carried his veneration for them so far as to wish to give his works the air of ancient paintings. It is certain that he copied some of the antique paintings, particularly the Marriage in the Aldobrandini Palace, at Rome, which I believe to be the best relic of those remote ages that has -sr ' III I!, •L 332 NICHOLAS POUSSIN yet been found ; " and adds : — " Poussin in the latter part of his life changed from his dry manner to one much softer and richer, where there is a greater union between the figures and the ground, as in the Seven Sacraments^ in the Duke of Orleans' Collection ; but neither these, nor any of his other jjictures in this manner, are at all comparable to many in his dry manner which we have in England." A later critic, Ruskin. says : — " The landscape of Nicholas Poussin shows much power, and is usually comi)osed and elaborated on right princii)les, but I am aware of nothing that it has attained of new or peculiar excellence ; it is a graceful mixture of qualities to be found in other masters in higher degrees. In finish it is inferior to Leonardo's, in invention to Giorgione's, in truth to Titian's, in grace to Raffaelle's. . . . Nicholas Poussin had noble i)owers of design, and might have been a thoroughly great painter had he been trained in Veni'c; but his Roman education kept him tame. PI is trenchant severity was contrary to the tendencies of the age, and had few imitators compared to the dashing of Salvator, and the mist of Claude The other characteristic master of classical landscape is Nicholas Poussin. I named Claude first, because the forms of scenery he has represented are richer and more general than Poussin ; but Poussin has a far greater power, and his landscapes, thougli more limited in material, are incomparably nobler than Claude's. It would take considerable time to enter into accurate analysis of Poussin's strong but degraded mind, and bring us no reward ; because whatever he has done has been done better by Titian. His peculiarities are, without exception, weaknesses, induced in a highly intellectual and inventive mind by being fed on medals, NICHOLAS roussiN 333 books, and l)assi-rclicvi, instead of nature, and by the want of deep sensibility. His l)est works are his bacchanalian revels, always brightly wanton and wild, full of frisk and fire ; but they arc coarser than Titian's, and infinitely less beautiful." ]'oussin lived twenty-three years after his return to Rome, and continued to increase in wealth and reputation during that period. He passed his time in the strictest retirement, living unostentatiously, and working with diligence. He was reserved in his manners, and admitted very few persons to his studio. The number of pictures he left behind, many of them very large, show how unremitting his application was. He excelled as a landscape, as well as a figure, painter. He was a great man, and a genius of most refined taste. The prints which have been engraved after his princijjal pictures amount to upwards of two hundred. In 1664 he lost his wife, to whom he was tenderly attached, and became subject to low spirits, and the presentiment of his own death began to press on him ; and that event occurred on the 19th November 1665, in the seventy-second year of his age. He left no children. He was buried in the church of San Lorenzo in Lucina, where a monument, designed by Lemoine and executed by French artists, was erected to his memory at the cost of Chateaubriand, when French ambassador at Rome. The bas-relief upon it is a reproduction in marble of Poussin's well-known landscape of the Arcadia. A monument was also erected to his memory in 185 1 in the market-i)lace of Great Andelys, in Normandy, near the place of his birth. 334 CLAUDE f V \ ■ " Why all this toil for triumphs of an hour? What though we wade in wealth, or soar in fame ? Earth's highest station ends in ' here he lies :' And 'dust to dust ' concludes her noblest song." Claude GcUee, generally called Claude Lorraine, was born in Lorraine, at Chateau de Chamagne, near Channes, de- ])artment des Vosges, in the year 1600, and was tlie third of five sons. His parents were poor, and Claude, being left an orphan when twelve years of age, went to his eldest brother at Fribourg, who was a carver in wood. It has been stated that Claude showed no disposition to learn to read or write, and that in consequence he was placed with a baker and pastry cook, and that, in company with some of the cooks of Lorraine, who were celebrated at that time, he travelled to Rome to seek employment there. Sandrart, who was on terms of intimacy with Claude when resident at Rome, has contradicted this statement ; and it ai)pears more likely that he continued to reside some time with his brother, and was engaged in designing grotcs(]ues and arabescjues, for which he seemed to have a ])cculiar apti- tude. A relative, who was a travelling dealer in lace, had noticed the youth's taste for art, and persuaded the brother to allow Claude to accompany him to Rome. After his arrival at Rome, he took lodgings not far from the Rotunda, where he lived for three or four years, practising the greatest eco- nomy, and in comparative poverty ; his small exjicnditurc having been provided for by his generous brother, and which was continued until the Thirty Years' ^^'ar broke out, which cut off all individual communication between France and Italy. In 16 1 8 he ([uitted Rome, and travelled to Venice and rv^vr CLAUDE 335 Naples, and at the latter place was received into the studio of Waiss or Vals, an artist of Cologne, with whom he remained two years, during which period he accjuired a thorough knowledge of architecture and ])erspective, which was afterwards of much use to him in painting his splendid landscapes. He returned to Rome, still almost in destitute circumstances, and was compelled to enter the service of Agostino Tassi, an eminent painter of landscapes, parti- cularly of sea views. He continued to reside with Tassi, both as a kind of servant, or major domo, and also as a pupil, until the year 1625, gaining, no doubt, much useful knowledge and information concerning that profession of which he afterwards became so great an ornament. In 1625 he again left Rome to return to his native country, passed thi'ough Upper Italy, and visited Loretto and Venice, traversed the Tyrol, stopj)ed some time in Bavaria, where he i)ainted two views of the environs of Munich, gained the Souabe, was attacked by banditti and robbed, and at length reached the banks of the Moselle, after an al)sence of twelve years. Nothing is known of his occupation while there ; but we learn that, after settling some family affairs, he returned to Rome in 1627, stopping a short time at Nancy, Lyons, and Marseilles. Nicholas Poussin was then becoming celebrated, and held a high place among the artists of Rome. Claude soon made himself known to his distinguished countryman, and to whom he was indebted, in no slight degree, for his first rise towards fame and excellence. The genius of Claude, which had hitherto been obscured, now became clear and manifest, and his rej)utation soon gained great popularity. " It rose," says one of his biogra- If 1 1 i ! 336 CLAUDE pliers, " as a bright morning sun, illuminating the whole of Italy, travelling over mountains and seas, reaching into France, and finding its way to the court of the Spanish monarch ; sovereigns, princes, cardinals, and even the pope himself eagerly purchasing the works of this great master of art." The large sums which Claude received for his pictures offered great inducements to other artists to copy his style and endeavour to impose upon strangers and ignorant per- sons, by disposing of their imitations and forgeries as genuine productions. To put a check upon this unfair practice Claude resolved to keep a record of the sketches of his pictures, which he might show to his patrons, and on the back of each drawing he wrote its number, with his cipher, the place for which the picture was painted, sometimes the name of the party who purchased it, and the date. This book he termed the Liber Veritatis ; or, Book of Truth. This remarkable collection of drawings is now in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire. It was engraved by Richard Earlom for Boydell, under the following title : — " Liber Veritatis ; or, a Collection of Two Hundred Prints after the original designs of Claude le Lorrain, in the Collection of his Grace the Duke of Devonshire, London, 1777." Claude was extremely slow and careful in his execution. Sandrart says that he often i)ainted for a week, or a fort- night on one part of a picture, without showing any progress. He always had great difficulty in painting or drawing the human figure, or animals, though he drew much from life, and attended the Academy of Rome many years. He generally procured the assistance of CLAUDE 337 hole of ig into Spanish le pope aster of pictures lis style ant per- genuine practice s of his on the J cipher, imes the This f Truth. in the ;ngraved title :— Prints in the ^ondon, [ecution. a fort- Ing any liting or |ie drew Rome ince of Courtois, Both, and others, in executing this part of his pictures, and unhesitatingly admitted his deficiency, and was in the habit of saying, that he " sold his landscapes, and gave away his figures." Kiigler and Ruskin differ materially in their opinion ot Claude's genius. The former eloquently says : — " The actual forms in his pictures, as in those of Caspar Poussin, are derived from Italian nature ; but the feeling of limited space and the severe character, which are visible in the works of the latter master, are wanting in those of Claude. Our eye ranges unchecked over outspread plains, often bounded by the sea. The flow of the lines is clear and harmonious, but the feeling of pure beauty of form strikes us less in the composition of the ground, than in the soft and flowing outline of the arched groups of trees which con- stitute his foreground, and imitate so happily the graceful growth of the evergreen oak — a tree more common in Claude's time in the immediate neighbourhood of Rome than it now is. . . . The quivering of the foliage, the silenr sweep of light clouds across the clear sky, the ripple of the lake or the brook, the play of the waves of the sea, the pure breezes of morning, the soft mists of evening, and the glistening dew upon the grass, arc all truth itself, and all seem instinct with joyous life. A soft vapour separates one distance from another, and allows the eye to wander into boundless space, only to be recalled by the warmth and richness of the foreground. Light pervades the whole, and every object breathes a blessed serenity and repose. Claude paints the forms of earth, indeed, but he veils them in an ethereal drapery, such as is only at moments visible to our eyes. He paints that worship of the Creator which nature 338 CLAUDE solemnises, and in which man and all his works are only included as accessories." How different, and may it not with truth, be said, how unnecessarily severe are the following remarks of Ruskin, great as he is as an art critic : — " Claude had, if it had been cultivated, a fine feeling for beauty of form, and is seldom ungraceful in his foliage ; but his picture, when examined with reference to essential truth, is one mass of error from beginning to end. ... Of men of name, perhaps Claude is the best instance of a want of imagination, nearly total, borne out by painful but un- taught study of nature, and much feeling for abstract beauty of form, with none whatever for harmony and expression. He had a fine feeling for beauty of form and con- siderable tenderness of perception. . . . His aerial effects are unequalled. His seas are the most beautiful in old art. . . . Very few of his sketches, and none of his pictures show evidence of interest in other natural phenomena than the quiet afternoon sunshine which would fall methodically into a composition. . . . Such were the principal f[ualities of the leading painter of classical landscape, his effeminate softness carrying him to dislike all evidences of toil, or distress, or terror, and to delight in the calm formalities which mark the school. . , . Large admiration of Claude is wholly impossible in any period of national vigour in art ; nevertheless, on account of such small sterling qualities as they possess, and of their general pleasantness, as well as their importance, in the history of art, genuine Claudes must always possess a considerable value, either as drawing-room ornaments, or museum relics. They may be ranked with fine pieces of china manufacture, ! I CLAUDE 339 and other agreeable curiosities, of which the price depends on the rarity rather than the merit, yet always on a merit of a certain low kind." A great number of pictures by Claude are to be found in England. There are several at Windsor Castle, and other Royal residences, several at the Dulwich Gallery, four in the Bridgewater Collection, ten in the Duke of Westminsters, and others in possession of Lord Lansdowne, the Duke of Wellington, Lord Radnor, Lord de Grey, Sir Thomas Baring, and at Burleigh, Holkam, and various seats of other noble- men. There are ten landscapes in the National Gallery, London; several in his best style, particularly a Seaport at Sun- set, a Composition, and Landscape with Figures, representing the marriage festival of Isaac and Rebecca. This beautiful picture is a repetition, with considerable variations in the details, of his celebrated // Molino, in the Doria Pamphili Gallery, at Rome, to which, however, it is much inferior. Landscape with Goatherd and Goats, or a study of trees, and Landscape with Figures, supposed to represent either the Annunciation, or the Angel appearing to Hagar, are botli charmingly beautiful. There are eight or ten Claudes at Madrid, a great many in the Louvre, Paris, and others at Rome, Vienna, Munich, Dresden, and Berlin ; but some of his finest pictures are in the Doria Pamphili Palace, at Rome : his // Molino, pro- bably his finest landscape, and — almost equally beautiful — Mercury Driving Away the Cattle of Apollo, The Temple, or Sacrifice of Apollo, and the Hunting Diana. Claude's chief excellence is in aerial perspective, and in the management of light generally, in both of Vv-hich he has never had a superior. In his latter years he was afflicted with gout, and (I ^ 340 PIERRE MIGNARD was unable to take his usual exercise, but to the very last he continued to use his pencil. In the Collection of Her Majesty the Queen, there is a drawing by Claude bearing the date 1682, when the artist must have been eighty-two years of age. But in December of that year his strength gave way, and he died at Rome in 1682, and was buried ^n the church of La Trinith, de Monti. He left his property to his nephews and a niece. In July 1 840 the remains of Claude Lorraine were trans- ferred to the church of St Louis des Francais, and were placed in a tomb erected for him by order of the French Minister of the Interior, on which a suitable inscription was placed. The author of " The Castle of Indolence " has beautifully said — " Sometimes the pencil, in cool airy halls, Bade the gay bloom of vernal landscapes rise. Or Autumn's varied shades imbrown the walls : Now the black tempest strikes the astonish'd eyes ; Now down the steep the flashing torrent flies ; The trembling sun now plays o'er ocean blue, And now rude mountains frown amid the skies ; Whate'er Lorraine light-touch'd with softening hue, Or savage Rosa dash'd, or learned Poussin drew." •Pierre Mignard was son of an officer named More, who, with six of his brothers, took service in the armies of Henry IV. of France. They were all exceedingly good-looking men, and on being first introduced to that monarch, the latter in- ciuired their names ; one of them answered, " More," on which the king said it ought to have been '* Mignard," (hand- some) and, according to Watelet, they were ever after known by the name of Mignard. Nicholas, the eldest son of one of PIERRE MIGNARD 341 those officers, received the education of an artist at Fontaine- bleau, and afterwards in italy, and settled at Avignon, where Cardinal Mazarin, on his way to the Pyrenees to assist at the marriage of l.ouis Quatorze and the Infanta of Spain, first saw and admired his works, and on his return to Paris, sent for him, when he was employed to decorate the Tuileries for the king. This painter died a few years after, leaving several good pictures to attest his deserved reputation. His brother, Pierre Mignard, an eminent artist, was born at Troyes in 16 10. He was at first intended for the military profession, but manifesting considerable talent for art, his father, when he was only eleven years of age, placed him in the school of Jean Boucher, at Bourges ; and he afterwards studied under Vouet, at that time one of the leading artists in Paris, where Le Brun, Le Sueur, and other celebrated artists were educated. Such was his genius, and so rapid was his progress in the art, that his works could hardly be distin- guished from those of his master ; and at the age of fifteen he was commissioned by the Marshal of Vitry to execute some paintings in his castle. After studying some time in Paris, the sight of several pictures brought from Rome by the Marquis de Crequy, to which Mignard had access, in- duced him in the year 1636 to visit that city, in order to study the works of Raphael, Michael Angelo, and the best Italian masters ; and forming his style so much upon the model of the Roman school, he acquired the sur- name of // Romano^ and remained in Rome twenty-two years. He painted many historical pieces and portraits ; among the latter, in which he displayed remarkable skill, were those of the Popes Urban VIII. and Alexander VII. > V I 342 PIERRE MIGNARD At the suggestion of the minister Colbert, Mignard was invited to Paris by Louis XIV., with whom he soon rose into favour. He left Rome with regret, to obey the king's summons, leaving his beautiful wife, a Roman by birth, a climate and existence so delightful for an artist, and his friend ?oussin, to whom he was much attached — delay, however, was im- possible, Louis had spoken — and on his arrival at the Tuileries, Mazarin presented him to the king and queen, whose portraits he painted. On his journey to Paris he passed through the duchies of Tuscany, Modena, and Parma, and executed portraits of the reigning princes of those states. At Paris, Mignard was made head of the Academy of St' Luke, and after the death of Le Brun, became chief painter to the king. He painted Louis XIV. no less than ten times. Mignard, quick in his speeches and repartees, suited him- self in his discourse to his great master, and was a favourite. He once contrived to evade a dangerous question from the king, when, for the tenth time, he was making his portrait. " Mignard, you find me grown very old," said Louis, see- ing the painter attentively examining him. " Sire," said the artist, " it is true that I behold some additional victories on the brow of your majesty." The king was pleased with this piece of flattery, and ever after protected Mignard against his enemies ; and in 1687 gave him a patent of nobility, and he was also made director and chancellor of the French Academy of Painting. Among the principal works of Mig- nard was the fresco painting in the dome of the Val de Grace, one of the greatest works of that sort of which his country can boast. It was celebrated in verse by Moliere, with whom, as well as with Boileau, La Fontaine, and Racine, PIERRE MIGNARD 343 he was very intimate. The paintings of this art'st, though inferior to those of the great masters whom he took as his models, are distinguished for grace and beauty, and he was so successful in his imitation of other painters, as to deceive even the best judges. His twelve mythological pictures at St Cloud were con- sidered compositions of a high order of merit — but they no longer exist, having been destroyed with the palace during the late war with Prussia. There are several of his large works at Versailles, and also in the Louvre, and his portraits are especially successful. His own is very good, and that of Madatne de Maintenon, though over coloured in the flesh, is powerfully painted. In the Berlin Gallery there is a Portrait of Maria Mancini, one of the nieces of Mazarin, holding a pearl in her hand ; at Windsor, a fine Portrait of Henrietta of Orleans, youngest daughter of Charles I. of Etigland, with her two Daughters ; at Hampton Court, a Portrait of Louis XIV.; a Portrait of Descartes, at Castle Howard; and also an excellent picture in the Ufifizi Gallery, at Florence, Portrait of the Countess de Grignon. Fuseli says: — "In the Plague of David, by Pierre Mignard, our sympathy is roused by ener- gies of terror, and combinations of woe, which escaped Poussin and Raphael himself." And Waagen characterises him as "the Sassoferrato and Carlo Dolce of the French school, united in one and the same person." Mignard used to say that the best picture that he ever painted was the Portrait of Madame Hervard, the friend of La Fontaine, which is justified by the story of her parrot mistaking the picture for her. It is possible that the lady may have been painted as well as the canvas, n 1, :f;! 344 CASPAR POUSSIN but the parrot used to call out, " Baisez-moi, ma Maitresse," to the amusement of every one present. Mignard had a daughter, afterwards Madame de Fenquiers, much cele- brated at the French Court for her beauty — she served him as a model in most of his works at Versailles. There is a beautiful Portrait of Madame de Fenquieres^ holding her Father's Picture in her Hand. Mignard died in 1695, ^^ the advanced age of eighty-five, and deservedly ranks among the best painters of the French School. He died at the same period as did Madame de Sevign^, who, in her letters, mentions him in a curious scene that took place in connection with an extraordinary woman, who appeared occasionally at the Court of France, the Abbess de Fontevrault. Gaspard, or Caspar Dughet, commonly called after his brother-in-law, Poussin, was born of French parents at Rome in 1613. He is called by the Italians Gasparo Duche, and he has thus inscribed his name on his etchings. Nicolas Poussin having married his sister, became Dughet's instructor, and advised him to adopt landscape painting, in which he attained proficiency and great celebrity. The works of this celebrated landscape painter are very uniform in character. His passion for grace and beauty was extreme ; he selected in all his pieces the most enchanting views of nature. Ramdohr says, that they impel the mind to reflection, and convey impressions of solemnity and melancholy. Owing to the habit of painting upon dark grounds, his pictures have become low in tone, and have, perhaps, thus acquired a greater character of gloom than he originally intended. CASPAR POUSSIN 345 He did not however much resemble Salvator Rosa, except in despatch. Both these artists were accustomed to com- mence and finish a landscape and decorate it with figures on the same day. Lanzi says of him : — " Poussin, contrary to Salvator, selected the most enchanting scenes, and the most beautiful aspects of nature ; the graceful poplar, the spreading ])lane- trees, limpid fountains, verdant meads, gently undulating hills, villas delightfully situated, calculated to dispel the cares of state, and to add to the delights of retirement. All the enchanting scenery of the Tusculan or Tiburtine terri- tory, and of Rome, where, as Martial observes, nature has combined the many beauties which she has scattered singly in other places, was copied by this artist. He composed also ideal landscapes, in the same way that Torquato Tasso, in describing the Garden of Armida, concentrated in his verses all the recollections of the beautiful which he had observed in nature." Notwithstanding this extreme passion for grace and beauty, it is the opinion of many, that there is not a greater name amongst landscape painters. He painted all kinds of landscapes, and in everything he did, he displays elegance and erudition. Nicolas Poussin occasionally embellished Caspar's pictures with figures re- presentative of some portion of history or of fable ; and Claude Lorraine also contributed to his instruction, and aided him in ac quiring the art of representing, as Lanzi has expressed it, "not only the rosy tint of morning, the splen- dour of noon, evening twilight, or a sky tempestuous or serene, but the passing breeze that whispers through the leaves, storms that tear and uproot the trees of the forest, m I ■ I' '"f ¥ i M>li' 346 CASPAR POUSSIN louring skies, and clouds surcharged with thunder and rent with lightning." Gaspar has left behind him a few masterly etchings, con- sisting of four circular landscapes, and a set of four land- scapes lengthways. There are several of his best landscapes in the Palazzo Doria Pamphili, at Rome ; and six in the National Gallery, London, one of which — a Landscape, with figures represent- ing Abraham and Isaac going to sacrifice, is generally con- sidered the painter's masterpiece. This picture remained in the Colonna Palace, at Rome, to the period of the French Revolution, when it found its way to England, and was subsequently purchased for the National Gallery in 1824. The others are chiefly Italian views, and formerly in various private galleries, at Rome, and purchased or be- queathed at different periods. Ruskin is as severe in his remarks on Gaspar Poussin, as he is in those on Nicolas Poussin and Claude Lorraine. He says : — " The landscapes of Gaspar have serious feeling, and often valuable and solemn colour ; virtueless otherwise, they are full of the most degraded mannerism, and I believe the admiration of them to have been productive of extensive evil among recent schools. . . . Gaspar Poussin, more ignorant of truth than Claude, and almost as dead to beauty as Cuyp, has yet a perception of the feeling and moral truth of nature, which often redeems the painter ; but yet in all of them, everything that they can do is done for decep- tion, and nothing for the sake or love of what they are painting. ... In Gaspar Poussin we have the same want of imagination [as Claude] disguised by more mascu- line qualities of mind, and grander Teachings after sympathy. LE SUEUR 347 Thus, in the Sacrifice of Isaac, in our Gallery, the spirit of the composition is solemn and unbroken ; it would have been a grand feature if the forms of the mass of foliage on the right, and of the clouds in the centre, had not been hope- lessly imaginative." Scarcely anything is known of the last days of Caspar Poussin, except that he died at Rome in 1C75, in the sixty- second year of his age. Eustace Le Sueur was born at Paris in 1617, and was instructed in drawing by his father, a statuary or sculptor of little repute, and was afterwards placed in the school of Simon Vouet, at that time an artist held in some estimation, whom he most resembled in his early manner. He soon distinguished himself by several pieces in the true Italian style ; but the simplicity of Nicolas Poussin exercised great influence over him. In the school of Vouet he had for fellow-students, Le Brun, Mignard, Du Fresnoy, and others ; and there the rivalry between Le Sueur and Le Brun com- menced, which terminated only with the death of the former. So far did Le Brun carry this bitter enmity, that he went to pay Le Sueur a visit in his last moments ; and it is said when the spirit of the dying painter had quitted its emaciated tenement, for he had been long suffering from disease, the survivor could not withold the exclamation, " Death hath taken a huge thorn out of my foot." Le Sueur, from his precocious talent, was selected by his master to assist him in works ordered by the Cardinal Richelieu. Among these works were the designs for the royal tapestries ; and Le Sueur undertook eight Romanesque compositions, borrowed from the " Dream of Poliphilius," a : M'il II .v\ 1 1 '• 1 . .: i 1 it l:M 348 ZE SUEUR singular poem written by a Dominican Monk, Francis Colonna. But his great work is the well-known series of the life of St Bruno, now in the Louvre, originally commenced in 1649, for one of the cloisters of the Chartreuse, at Paris. These twenty-four pictures were purchased by the crown in 1776, and transferred to Versailles. They are of various excellence. wSome of the heads are full of expression and feeling. The one, St Bruno refusing:; the Archiepiscopal Mitre offered him by Pope Urban I!., is considered, says Waagen, " the best of all the set in respect of the depth and juiciness of its colour and chiaroscuro, as well as the transparency and softness of its execution. The attitude of the Pope is dignified ; that of St Bruno is rather theatrical." Le Sueur was engaged by Vouet to paint a picture ol The Assumption in the centre of the Chapel of St Maria; and while employed on this work, as the story is related by M. Saintine, he fell violently in love with a beautiful young nun, who had been permitted to sit to him for the figure of the Virgin. The unfortunate attachment is said to have cast a gloom over the remainder of his life ; but the young painter did n attempt to gain by force or fraud what the laws of his religion denied him. When he had finished the picture and other decorations of the chapel, he was commissioned to ornament, with mythological figures, a pavillion in the Chateau de Conflaus, and afterwards proceeded to Lyons, whither his fame had preceded him. It was during his stay at Lyons that the genius of Le Sueur developed itself, after seeing some of the works of Raphael. He sketched out the picture of St Paul Laying Hands on the Sick, which attracted the attention of Nicolas Poussin, and was presented by the artist to tiie ,1 LE SUETrR 349 nk, Francis series of the commenced use, at Paris. ;he crown in •e of various pression and biscopal Mitre ;ays Wnagen, and juiciness isparency and the Pope is picture of The ;t Maria; and related by M. ul young nun, figure of the to have cast a young painter lat the laws of [r decorations Inament, with li de Conflaus, Ihis fame had /ons that the |g some of the jre of St Paul le attention of artist to the Academy of St Luke, in Rome, of which he had been elected a member. According to M. Blanc, Le Sueur, acting upon the advice of Poussin, sought to modify the style acquired under Vouet, by studying the great Italian masters ; but this he could only have accomplished to a very limited extent, as he was never out of France. In 1649 he painted, for the Cori)oration of Goldsmiths, The Preaching of Paul at Ephesus — one of his finest pictures, and one which has not been excelled by any artist of the French school. The heads and draperies show much of the style of Raphael. The apostle stands near the temple of the great goddess Diana, which is placed on the right of the picture ; he is holding forth with the zeal and animation of one who feels he has an important message to deliver ; and the power of his eloquence is manifested in the conduct of the gentle hearers, who bring their " books of curious arts," and " burn them before all men." Le Sueur painted many other large ecclesiastical pictures —Paul Healing the Sick, the Marty rdotn of St Laicrence, Christ Scourged, Christ with Mary and Martha, the Presenta- tion in the Temple, and the Descent from the Cross. The last- named picture is in the Louvre; it is admirably ]iainted, with deep feeling, and the chiaroscuro admirably managed. The principal works of Le Sueur are to be found in the Louvre, and a few in the French provinces. Out of France, England possesses the greatest number of his pictures. The Duke of Devonshire has, at Devonshire House, his Queen of Shcba at the Court of Solomon. The Death of Germanicus is at Leigh Court, and there are pictures by him at Alton lowers, and at Burleigh. Fuseli thus speaks of him : — " Le Sueur's series of pictures ill /■}■ J> I ?4 ■ ■ T M ! i. !i ■' ■ ■ \ I! !■ 350 Z£ BRUN in the Chartreux exhibit the features of contemplative piety, in a purity of style and a placid breadth of manner that moves the heart. His dignified martyrdom of St Lawrence, and the burning of the magic books at Ephesus, breathe the spirit of Raphael." And Frederick Schlegel, in his letters from Paris in 18 10, says of Le Sueur, that we "find in his works neither the bewildering ostentation of Le Brun, nor the affected pedantry of Poussin. He has a feeling even for colour, and there is generally something full of mind about his works." Le Sueur married in 1642, but remained poor for many years, supporting himself by making designs for books, and other chance work. He had laboured with an energy and perseverance far more than his physical powers could endure; and it is said the jealousy of Le Brun, who was associated with him in some of his works, caused him much vexation and disquietude, and that that cause, and incessant toil, brought him to his grave. Phillips, the late Professor of Painting in the Royal Academy, London, says that Le Sueur " felt like a man of fine and elevated mind, and deserved the title bestowed on him of the French Raffaelle." He was one of the twelve founders of the French Academy, known by the appellation of the " Twelve Ancients." He died in May 1655, at the early age of thirty-eight years. Charles Le Brun, born at Paris in 1 6 1 9, was son of a statuary of ordinary talent. He was most precocious, having as early as his third year sketched with coal, and when twelve years of age he painted a portrait of his grandfather, which is not considered the worst of his paintings. He ill i -il LE BR UN 351 studied with Vouet, and soon surpassed his fellow students and his master. He owed the means of visiting Italy to Seguier, Chancellor of France, and Gorde des Sceaux, who enabled the artist to join Poussin at Lyons in 1643. With him Le Brun went on to Rome. There he executed a pic- ture of Horatius Codes Defending the Bridge^ which was mis- taken for a production of Poussin's. This picture, and two others by Le Brun., are now in the Dulwich Gallery. After his return from Rome, when, under Poussin, he had studied principally the works of Raphael, and the remains of ancient art, he received the order of St Michael ; and in 1648 was made President of the New Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture. He was named Prince of the Academy of St Luke in Rome. Under Colbert's administration, Le Brun became the great painter of the Court, and retained that position until he was supplanted by Mignard. It is said the vexation caused by the transfer of the Royal favour was the cause of his death. From 1 66 1 he was principally employed in embellishing the residences of Louis XIV. and his nobles with works of art, and in superintending the brilliant spectacles of the Court. He was Director of the Royal Gobelin manufactory. With the death of Colbert his influence declined. His pictures give us the genuine spirit of his master, Louis XIV. " All is," says Kiigler, " ostentation and struggle for effect, joined with considerable technical excellence and little genuine feeling. Their scale is gigantic, and the im- pression produced by them is like that of a scene at the opera. I am speaking more particularly of the great series of pictures of the history of Alexander, now in the Louvre, I '■UiH. J I, % '(? Wlf 352 LE BR UN i which was finished in 1662. In composition and in execu- tion they have much merit. The colour of some of them, particularly that of the Battle of Arbcla, has suffered much. The worst of the whole, perhaps, is the Battle of The Granicus. In subjects of less pretention Le Brun was a good painter — several pictures in the Louvre are good, and many of his portraits excellent." There is a good picture of \\\q. Jabacli Family in the Museum at Berlin. It contains the portrait of the banker and of his wife and four children ; in the mirror is seen the artist himself. The Vow of Jephtha^ in the UfRzi Gallery, at Florence, is a good picture. He possessed a comprehensive genius, which was cultivated by the incessant study of history and national custom ; he combined a correct judgment with a lively im- agination and facility in execution. He arrived at the highest accuracy of detail, consulting the remains of anti- quity, books, and learned men, on the minutest subjects. Fuseli says: — ''The powerful comprehension of a whole, only equalled by the fire which pervades every part of the battles of Alexander by Charles Le Brun, would entitle him to L, .e highest rank in history, had the characters been less mannered, had he not exchanged the Argyraspids and the Macedonian phalanx for the compact legionaries of the Trajan pillar ; had he distinguished Greeks from barbarians, rather by national feature and form than by accoutrement and armour." Lanzi says : — " An academy had been founded in Rome, by Louis XIV., about the year 1666. Le Brun had then co-operated, the Giulio Romano of France, and the most celebrated of the four Carli, who were, at that time, con- sidered the supporters of the art ; the others were Cignani, JEAN JOUVENET 353 in execu- of them, ■ed much. Granicus. painter — my of his the Jahach le portrait ;n; in the )rence, is a nius, which nd national a lively im- vcd at the .ns of anti- pbjects. |of a whole, |part of the [entitle him been less s and the Iries of the barbarians, [coutrement in Rome, had then the most time, con- [re Cignani, Maratta, and Loth. . . . There prevailed, however, in the style of this school a mannerism, which in a few years brought it into disrepute. Mengs designated it by the epithet of sprntoso, and it consisted, according to him, in overstepping the limits of beauty and propriety, overcharg- ing both the one and the other, and aiming at fascinating the eyes rather than conciliating the judgment." Le Brun died in 1690, in the seventy-first year of his age. Jean Jouvenet, descended from a family of artists, was born at Rouen in April 1644. His father, Lawrence Jouvenet, a painter and sculptor, brought him up to his own profession. About the middle of the sixteenth century a painter and sculptor, John Jouvenet, presumed to have migrated from Italy, settled in Rouen, where he died in 16 16. He was the ancestor of several families of artists. One of his sons, it is said, instructed Nicolas Poussin in his earlier years. This son, whose name was Noel, had himself three sons, each of whom was connected with art ; one married the daughter of a sculptor named Robou ; another gave his daughter to William Leviel, a clever glass painter • and the third, Lawrence Jouvenet, a painter and sculi)tor, had five children, of whom Marie ]\Iadeline, married John Restout, an artist of Caen, father and grandfather of the two Restouts, members of the Academy of Paris ; another, Francis Jouvenet, was painter in ordinary to the French Court; and a third was John, of whom we are about to speak. At the age of seventeen he was sent to Paris, where, without the aid of a master, he formed his own style. His princiijal study was nature, but he derived ideas of com- 354 JEAN JO UVENET \ ! 'hi Hill i ] position and other requisites of art from the works of Poussin. He never enjoyed the opportunity of visiting Italy, but often distinguishing himself by some great per- formances, was noticed by Charles Le Brun, who in 1675 introduced him to the Academy of Painting, of which he ■was successively appointed Professor, Director, and per- petual Rector. He was employed in many considerable works for the decoration of churches and public buildings, and was much esteemed by Louis XIV. His manner was bold and spirited, his drawing correct, and in a grand style. Upon the whole, he is regarded as one of the principal ornaments of the French school, and a real genius in his art. Waagen calls him "about the most distinguished artist of this later time. His invention was fertile, and in his best i)ictures he was less theatrical than most of his con- temporaries ; his colour too was warm and powerful, though not true to nature, especially as regards the honey-tone of his flesh \ his handling was broad and his impasto powerful ; in form and character of his figures, he was strong and effective, rather than refined and noble." In 1683, the death of one or two relatives induced him to visit his native city, Rouen, where he was received with much distinction ; but the king speedily recalled him to Paris, and gave him apartments in what was then called the " Palace of the Four Nations." The first work he com- menced, in his new studio, was one on a grand scale, twenty- eight feet long by thirteen in height, the subject— y^j/zi" Healing the Sick. He also painted Christ witJi Martha and Mary ; the Abbe Dclaporte leaving the High Altar of Notre Dame, where He has Just said Mass, on the Completion of fifty I I JEAN JO UVENET 355 ^vorks of F visiting rreat per- . in 1675 which he and per- ks for the was much id spirited, the whole, 2nts of the lished artist and in his of his con- :rful, though )ney-tone of to powerful ; strong and luced him to Lceived with lued him to pn called the Lrk he com- Icale, twenty- Ibject— /^^'^^ 1 Martha and \tar of Notre tletion of fifty years as a Cation ; the Miraculous Draught of Fishes ; (it is said that Louis XIV. was so pleased with this picture, that he had it executed in tapestry) ; the Resurrection of Lazarus ; the Expulsion of the Sellers from the Temple ; and the Descent from the Cross, painted in 1697. Waagen says of the last picture : — "This picture was painted for the high altar of the Capuchin Church, near the Place \''end6me, and passes for the chef-d'oeuvre of the master. The exaggerated dramatic character of the composition, and the warmth and power of the colouring, without doubt produce a great effect, but the heads want meaning, and the pre- dominance of brown is again offensive." Most of these pictures are in the Louvre. As Jouvenet never travelled out of France, he must have seen engravings and sketches of the famous pictures by Rubens and Rem- brandt of nearly a similar grouping, because his own pictures seem largely borrowed from those great artists. Neverthe- less his Descent fi'om the Cross is a fine work and vigorously executed. The death of Le Brun taking place in 1690, Jouvenet became the head of the French school; for Mignard, although still living, had reached the advanced age of eighty, and was consequently out of the field of action. In 1693 he was compelled to seek change of air, in con- sequence of an attack of apoplexy, but he regained his health, and returned to his labours in 1696. In 1709, Jouvenet, though in his sixty-fifth year, was working at Versailles with all the enthusiasm of a young man, but in 1 7 13, having been attacked with a palsy on the right side, he v.-as obliged to desist from working, and amused himselr by looking over the performance of a nephew. One day, Avishing to make a correction in a head, he took up the \ I IT 'I I" 356 DESPORTES brush in his paralytic hand and spoiled it; vexed at the circumstance, he shifted his brush to the left hand, and found, to his surprise, that he was able to execute what he desired. From that time he continued to employ the left hand, and with so much success that the difference was not perceptible ; and this fact he recorded on the works them- selves. Among the pictures so ])roduced are the Death of St Francis; the Ceiling of one of the Chambers in the Parlia- ment House at Rouen ; and his last work, the Visitation of the Virgin, in the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Gault de St Germain observes "that what renders Jouvenet original, as com])ared with his contemporaries, is the excellent choice of his attitudes, the propriety of his action, the firmness of his touch, and the harmony and solidity of his colouring, which is true to nature, as well as successfully dealt with in the massing of the light and shade. With regard to his draperies, they are broad and finely cast, but some fault may be found with their execution. He often fell into a manner »vhich it is dangerous to follow — a fact sufficiently proved by the pupils who came from his school," Jouvenet was of a frank, lively disposition, agreeable in conversation, and estimable for worth and propriety. He w^as very industrious, and has left numerous works at Paris and in other parts of France. About forty of his pieces have been engraved by different artists. He was un- doubtedly an artist of high genius, though inferior to many of the great Italian masters. He died on the 5th April 17 1 7, aged seventy-three. Alexander Francis Desportes, an eminent painter of hunt- ing scenes and animal life, was born at Champigneuille, in DESPORTES 357 L at the tid, and what he r the left : was not ks them- Dcath of he Parha- 'sitation of t renders )oraries, is iety of his ■mony and , as ^veU as and shade, and finely ution. He ow— a fact lis school" igreeable in iriety. He ks at Paris his pieces le was un- lor to many e 5th Apvii Iter of hunt- i:)igneuille, ia Champagne, in 1661. His father, a wealthy farmer, sent him at the age of twelve years to Paris, placing him with an uncle, who was established in business there. Soon after his arrival he was taken ill, and while recover- ing, he discovered his taste for drawing, by a copy he made of a print as he lay in bed. His uncle therefore deter- mined on educating him for an artist, and placed him in the school of Bernaert, who was then established in Paris as an animal painter. Other accounts state that he was placed with Nicasius, a Flemish painter of animals. At all events, tlie death of his master soon left him to his own resources, and he pursued his improvement by studying nature, and drawing from models and antic|ues. Though he acquired from Snyders the bold and firm touch which the latter ex- hibited in his pictures of lion hunts, combats of wild animals, and wild boar hunts, yet he turned his study of these fierce subjects into the more graceful form of hunting scenes, and portraiture of dogs and game. He practised his art in a variety of branches, and acc^uired a great facility of design, a truth of expression, lightness of handling, and an excellent tone of colouring, and before he reached the age of thirty, his reputation was made. He married in 1692, and soon after received the king's permission to go to Poland, where he painted, with great success, the portraits of king John Sobiesky and his queen, and the principal persons of the court. He remained two years in Poland, and on returning to France resumed his favourite branch of painting, animals and hunting scenes, on his excellence in which his reputation is chiefly founded. He was received into the Academy of Pain ing in 1699, and the king gave him a pension and apartments in the Louvre. '1:1 '! 358 DESPORTES M I w w w t He made portraits of the king's hounds, and accompanied the hunting and fowHng parties, in order to catch the atti- tudes and forms of nature. After having thoroughly deter- mined his composition, he would repair to the royal kennel, sketch some of the handsomest hounds of the pack, and then show the studies to the king, who would point out to the artist the animals by their respective names. Many of these sketches were made with pen and indian ink, and others were carefully coloured to be used as studies for his pictures in oil. His reception picture, on his election to the academy, was a very fine one. It represents the artist himself as a hunter. Near him is a pointer with his head upturned to his master. At his feet lie a quantity of game, hares, partridges, and ducks, painted with much delicacy and truth. The principal figure has one hand resting on his fowling- piece, while with the other he is caressing his dog. When the Duke d'Aumont went ambassador to England, Desportes obtained leave to join his suite, and spent six months in London, where he painted and sold several pic- tures. He was much esteemed and employed by the Regent, Duke of Orleans ; and was afterwards in particular favour with the young king, Louis XV., whose passion for the chase rendered him an admirer and judge of the branch in which this master excelled. Desportes was of a mild and amiable character, lively in conversation, and a gentleman in his manners. Notwith- standing the atmosphere in which he lived, the licentious court of Louis XIV., he passed through life without a stain upon his character, and was strict and irreproachable in his conduct. He continued the practice of his profession to a great age, dying at Paris in 1743 aged, eighty-two years. 1 ' WATTEAU 359 He left ti son, who was both an able painter and a poet. The principal works of I)c.si)ortes are at Versailles, Marly, and other royal palaces, and some very fine })ictures in the Louvre. Three of his pieces have been engraved. Kiigler gives him faint i)raise. He says " his animals are well drawn, but his shadows are heavy, and the tone of his land- scape disagreeable." He has however been designated by a great authority as the " Nestor of Painting." Anthony Watteau was born at Valenciennes in 1684. His father was a man in very humble circumstances — a tiler, carrying on business in that city. He was placed with an indifferent painter of that place, and being removed to a master who possessed a talent for theatrical decoration, he came with him to Paris in 1702, and was employed about the Oi)cra House. Though not a painter of high historical works, his pictures are records of the national manners of a particular period, and represent, to a certain extent, the age in which he lived. A French critic has observed of him, " that he wrote the memoirs of a certain age upon the folding-doors of saloons, on tents and marcjuees, on the panels of mansions and carriages, as well as on the numerous canvasses which, during his short career, were sent forth from his easel." In most of these pictures we are taken back to the days when the gardens and terraces of Versailles were filled with their gayest flowers — the dames, and beauties, and cavaliers of the age of Louis XIV. Watteau was obliged to work for a mere subsistence for some time after removing to Paris, but he at length became acquainted with Gillot, an eminent designer of grotesques at IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) A ^ .^4, ' '/i'^ / ^ <. V 1.0 I.I 1.25 ■1° m |||||22 2.0 1.8 1.4 II 1.6 ^^ ^» A r > :> ;> ^ y >^ <^ 36o WATTE A U that time, whom he imitated, but soon surpassed by a more correct and natural style of design, and a better tone of colouring. By studying under Andrau, and copying from the pictures of Rubens at the Luxembourg Palace, he improved himself so much that he was admitted into the Academy, and rose into notice. His presentation picture, which is now in the Louvre, was the Embarkatioti for the Isle of Cythera. He was indefatigable in his art, and generally chose for his subject conversations of the comic and pastoral kind, the marches and encampments of armies, landscapes and gro- tesques, which he finished with a free and glowing pencil, a neat and spirited touch, and a pleasing tone of colour. His manner, however, wus entirely that of his country, and if he copied nature, it was in a French dress ; and a French epigram upon him turns upon the thought, that dame nature, having a coquettish desire of seeing her portrait " paree a la Francaise," produced Watteau for the artist. Watteau was once in England, for the purjDOse of consulting Dr Meade, for whom he painted two pictures, sold at Dr Meade's sale. Two excellent specimens of his style are to be seen in the Dulwich Gallery : one — The Bal Champctre — contains no less than sixty figures. Watteau, like most other painters, desired to visit Italy. Having, however, hung two pictures in one of the rooms of the Louvre, which served as a passage for the academicians, De la Fosse, an eminent French artist, happened to pass, and was arrested by a sight of the pictures ; and asking who was the artist, he perceived Watteau standing by in great anxiety, and entering into conversation with him, learned his desire to travel. " Ah ! my friend," said De la Fosse, " what should you go to Italy for ? you already know more than we j it is WATTEAU 361 not the road over the Alps you ought to take, but the road into the Academy." Encouraged by these remarks, Watteau unfortunately abandoned his project of visiting Italy, remained in Paris, and was received into the Academy under the new title of Feifitre des Fetes Galantes. He was also appointed painter to the king under the same appellation. Horace Walpole thus characterises him : — " The genius of Watteau resembled that of his countryman, d'Urfe : the one drew, and the other wrote imaginary nymphs and swains, and described a kind of impossible pastoral, a rural life led by those opposites of rural simplicity — people of fashion and rank. "Watteau's shepherdesses, nay, hlsver}'sheep are coquettes; yet he avoided the glare and clinquant of his countrymen ; and though he fell short of the dignified grace of the Italians, there is an easy air in his figures, and that more familiar species of the graceful which we call genteel. But there is one fault of Watteau for which, till lately, I could never account. His trees appear as unnatural to our eyes o': his figures must do to a real peasant who had never stirred beyond his village. In my late journeys to Paris, the cause of this grievous absurdity was apparent to me, though nothing can excuse it. Watteau's trees are copied from those of the Tuileries and villas near Paris — a strange scene to study nature in ! There I saw the originals of those tufts of plumes and fans and trimmed up groves, that nod to one another like the scenes of an opera." Sir David Wilkie says " the Watteaus, of which there is one in the gallery [Dresden], and one I saw to-day, are in quality too light and feeble, but elegant and gay in the extreme. If it be objected that his style is affected, that the subjects themselves required. His style stands alone in the 362 WATTFAU art as the essence of fashion, frivoHty, and elegance, the con- verse of boorishness rendered in an artist-like and picturesque manner." And Sir Joshua Reynolds says : — " We may recommend here an attention to the works of Watteau for excellence in the florid style of colouring." Kiigler says : — " His colour and his touch are good in them- selves, and they are precisely what we should desire, in order to carry out the principle on which he started." Watteau was restless and irritable, tipiid and extremely reserved to strangers ; misanthropic, discontented with him- self and others; but was kind and benevolent. His last work was a satire on the medical profession — a scene from Moliere's comedy of " La Malade Imaginaire," which con- cludes by the interment of the sick man, in presence of the faculty ranged about the grave in formal costume. When the picture was completed the pencil fell from his hand ; he died soon afterwards, near Paris, in 1 721, at the early age of thirty-seven. He bequeathed his numerous drawings to four friends, who made a sale of them, which paid his debts, and enabled them to give him an honourable interment. The great industry of Watteau is proved by the number of engravings from his designs, amounting to upwards of five hundred. In the class of art which he finally adopted, he has had many imitators, but no equals; he stands unrivalled, as Walpole remarked, for "the tenderness of his carnations, the brilliancy of his habiliments, and the verdure of his landscapes ; " and will always remain the unsurpassed delineator of the court life of France at tlie commencement of the eighteenth century. VERNET 363 Claude Joseph Vernet, one of the most celebrated of the French landscape and marine painters, was bom at Avignon, 14th August 1 7 14. His father, Antoine Vernet, was also a painter, and from him Claude acquired the rudiments of his art. He was also instructed by -A ^. 'an Manglard, a land- scape painter, but at the age of eighteen years he went to Italy, and continued to study at Rome. In these days he is said to have been reduced to paint a picture in ex- change for a suit of clothes; and was about to quit the capital in despair, when having exhibited two of his pieces to a cardinal, who loved and patronized painting, he was munificently paid for them, and received encouragement to remain and perfect himself in that seat of the arts. In 1743 he became a member of the Academy of St Luke, and in the same year married a lady of the name of Parker, whose father was an English Catholic employed in the Pope's navy. On receiving an invitation from Louis XV., through M. de Marigny, Vernet returned to France, after an absence of twenty-two years. It was on his passage from Leghorn that the incident occurred which has furnished Horace Vernet with the sub- ject of the picture, now in the Luxembourg. A tempest of such violence as to terrify every one else on board, only excited Vernet's desiic to profit by the grandeur of the scene; he caused himself to be lashed to the mast, and proceeded with his sketch-book to record, as well as he could, the impression produced by the waves and sky. It is not a little interesting to see such a painting as this executed by an artist of the highest genius, himself the grandson of the hero of the tale. Vernet made a particular study of the different appear- 3^4 VERNET ■\ ances of the sky in Italy, and in order to note with exactness all the fugitive tints of the atmosphere, it was his custom to carry about with him tablets, in which every hue, from the most brilliant light and shade, had a plan marked by a letter of the alphabet, to which it was immediately con- signed by colours as soon as it appeared to his eye. It was thus that he attained to a truth and delicacy of repre- senting this part of his landscapes which have scarcely been equalled. Louis XV. gave Vemet the commission to paint that series of views of the French ports, fifteen in number, which are now in the Louvre. Of these views, Waagen prefers those of Cette, Bordeaux, and Toulon, to the rest. The view of the Ponte Rotto, and of the castle of St Angelo, in that collection, are selected by the same critic as favourable specimens of the master, on account of " the feeling for nature, the warmth and harmony of tone, the delicacy of the aerial perspective, the transparency of their colour, and the softness of their execution." The views of the French ports occupied Vernet nearly ten years ; he received for each picture, including his travelling expenses, only 7,500 francs (about ;^3oo) ; the king, however, gave him apartments in the Louvre. Kijgler says : — " Many of Vemet's early works, such as those in the Palazzo Rondanini, at Rome, were based on the imitation of Salvator Rosa \ his later style was softer and more mellow in tone. His composition is excellent, and no painter ever chose his points of view better, or suited his figures to his landscape more skilfully. His drawing is for the most part good, though his knowledge of shipping was not so accurate as his subjects required. His trees are not VERNET 365 perfect, and the colour, though pure and true to nature in the tint, wants transparency in many of his works.'' In commenting on the Salon of 1765, Diderot exclaims: — " Twenty-five pictures, my good friend ! Twenty-five pictures ! and what pictures ! It is like creation for its rapidity; it is like nature for its truth. There is scarcely one of these pictures on which a painter might not have employed his time well in working the two years which Vernet has spent in painting the whole." There is one picture of Vernet's in the National Gallery, London, the Castle of St Angela with the Bridge of St Angela, and Neighbouring Buildings, and a Fete on the Tiber. This picture was painted at Rome in 1750, and was formerly in the collection of the Marquis de Villette. It was presented to the National Gallery by Lady Simp- kinson, in 1853. Vernet was passionately fond of music, and contracted a great intimacy with the celebrated Pergolesi. It was fre- quently his practice to paint while Pergolesi played, and he conceived that this combination gave peculiar vigour to his powers. Lanzi, in speaking of Bernardino Fergioni, a painter of sea views, says : — " But his fame was a few years afterwards eclipsed by two Frenchmen, Adrian Manglard, of a solid, natural, and correct taste ; and his scholar, Joseph Vernet, who surpassed his master by his spirit and his charming colouring. The first seemed to paint with a degree of timidity and care, the latter in the full confidence of genius; the one seemed to aim at truth, the other at beauty. Manglard was many years in Rome, and his works are to be seen in the Villa Albani, and in many other 366 GREUZE palaces. Vernet is to be seen in the Rondanini mansion, and in a few other collections." The Queen of France once said to him, at one of the annual exhibitions in the hall of the Lou\Te, where his pictures were the principal ornaments. — " M. Vernet, I see it is always you who make rain and fair weather in this place." He was painter to the king, counsellor of the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture, and member of several academies. It has been said of him, that " his genius knew neither infancy nor old age." Before his death he had the pleasure of seeing his son. Carle, received as a member of the French Academy. His own pictures, executed between 1752 and 1789, are said to amount to upwards of two hundred. Vernet died at Paris in 1789, at the age of seventy-five. In the year 1826 the Athenaeum of Vancluse gave a prize for the best poetical eulogy on Joseph Vernet. At the ceremony were present the artist's son and grandson. Carle and Horace Vernet, both of them holding a very high rank in their profession. The elder of the two then presented to the town of Avignon his picture of the Roman Horse-race^ and the younger gave his Mazeppa^ as memorials of the fete. Jean Baptiste Greuze was born at Tournus, near Macon, in Burgundy, 21st August 1725. He was taken to Lyons by an artist of that city, of the name of Grandon, and received some instruction from him ; but his knowledge and his powers as a painter were derived from a constant and care- ful study of nature, though he afterwards studied in the GREUZE 367 academy at Paris, and at Rome. Like other men he was destined to meet with mortification, because he aspired to that species of fame which he was least capable of attaining. He was elected an associate of the French Academy of Painting in 1755 ; ^^'^ ^^ ^^ ^^'^s placed in the class oi genre painters, when he was elected a member in 1769, he con- sidered it a degradation, and retired altogether from the academy. Diderot says, in writing to Grimm : — "Greuzehad applied for admission to the Adademy, and had proposed to paint a historical picture, and thus acquire a right to all the honours of his profession. He had chosen for his subject. The Emperor Septimius Severiis Reproaching his Sun Caracalla, with Having Attempted to Murder Him. His picture was not looked on with very favourable eyes by the members of the academy, as Greuze had for a long time shown an open and undisguised contempt for his brother artists and their works. What passes on these occasions is as follows : — The academy is assembled ; the picture is placed cm an easel in the middle of the hall ; the academicians examine it there. Meanwhile the candidate, alone in another room, walks up and down, or sits still and waits for his sentence. Greuze was very little disturbed as to the decision in his case. At the end of an hour the director addressed him — "Monsieur, the academy receives you as its member; come fonvard and take the oath." Greuze, delighted, immediately goes through all the formalities of his reception. When they were over, the director said to him — " Monsieur, the academy has received you, but it is as a painter of Genre. We have considered your former productions, which are excellent, 'WT' 368 GREUZE and we have shut our eyes to this picture, which is worthy neither of our own body, nor of yourself." Greuze remained thoroughly convinced of the merit of his own work, and of the injustice of the academy, and returned home to undergo the rejjroaches of the most violent of women. His picture he left to be exhibited at the Salon, and thus gave his partisans time to undeceive themselves, and to acknowledge that he had, in fact, been awkward enough to offer to his brother artists, angry as they were with him, a glorious opportunity of repaying, at one blow and without any injustice, all the contempt which he had shown them. Greuze's favourite subjects were illustrations of the affec- tions or domestic duties, their observance or violation. He has sometimes, but without good reason, been called the French Hogarth. Among his most celebrated pieces is The Village Bride. Waagen, in speaking of this picture, says : — " It was originally painted for M. de Boisset, and afterwards purchased by the king for no less than 16,650 livres, at the sale of M. de Menars, who had bought it of the original possessor for 9000," and observes " that there is a certain analogy- between the sentiment of Greuze and that of Sterne." Of this picture he adds " that the national character of France is in it seized with the same success as that of England has been by Wilkie. The execution is admirable, but the tone is somewhat cold and pinkish." His Simplicity^ which has been engraved by Joubert, is a lovely portrait of a young girl — remarkably sweet, and elegant in design. The costume of the figure is fanciful but very pic- turesque. A light black lace veil is thrown carelessly over the head and shoulders, partly concealing the masses of long GREUZE 369 vorthy t of his itumed lent of : Salon, nselves, wkward 2y were ilow and d shown ;he affec- on. He ailed the ipieces is picture, sset, and n 16,650 )OUght it hat there euze and national uccess as ;cution is ish." bert, is a d elegant very pic- essly over es of long curly hair of a rich brown colour, and is tied loosely over the bosom, forming as it were an ornamental frame work for the face. There is a good picture in the Royal collection at Buck- ingham Palace — Childhood ; the head is well modelled, the expression animated, yet child-like, and it is painted with great care and freedom. Some of his best pictures are in the Louvre — The Broken Pitcher, The Departure and The Return of the Prodigal, and several others. Many of his other pictures are not so unexceptionable in point of style and subject. It would have been singular if Greuze had remained untainted by the affectation and sentiment of his own day — these qualities abound in many of his heads, and are joined with the ten- dency to theatrical treatment, which characterise the Fiench school. Greuze lived the greater part of his life in Paris, and during the reigns of Louis XV. and his successors, when the licentiousness of the court had tainted the whole society of France. His pencil frequently expressed the lax morality of the period, and his models were taken from a class not the most refined or respectable. His colouring is unequal, but often very good. Greuze etched a few plates. He died at Paris in 1805, at the age of eighty, and left two daughters. In this sketch of the French school of painting, a very great number of the most distinguished artists of the seven- teenth and eighteenth centuries have been introduced, in order that a clear view may be given of their various styles and excellencies. The severe historical school of Poussin, the more exaggerated historical form of Le Sueur, Le Brun, and Jouvenet ; the brilliant landscape of Claude and Gaspar 2 A 370 GREUZE I'oussin ; the marine excellence of Vemet ; the portraiture of Mignard; the animal and hunting scenes of Desportes ; the cocjuettish pastorals of Wattcau, and the tender domestic scenes of Greuze: all different, but each excellent in their several schools of art. All this gives food for thought — and we may exclaim, in the words of Kirke White, *' The poet dreams ; — the shadow flies, And fainting fast its image dies. But lo ! the painter's magic force Arrests the phantom's fleeting course ; It lives — it lives — the canvas glows, And tenfold vigour o'er it flows. The bard beholds the work achieved, And as he sees the shadow rise, Sublime before his wondering eyes, Starts at the image his own mind conceived. LECTURE XI. WILLIAM HOGARTH, RICHARD WILSON, SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS AND THOMAS GAINSBOROUGH " The stately homes of Enghiid, How beautiful they stand Amidst their tall ancestral trees, O'er all the pleasant land ! • • • • • • The free fair homes of England ! Long, long in hut and hall May hearts of native proof be reared To guard each hallow'd wall." IIemans Horace Walpole (aftenvards Earl of Orford) obsenx's that at the commencement of the reign of George L, "the arts were sunk to the lowest ebb in Britain," and there was little or no improvement until the middle of the succeeding reign. It was then that Hogarth, Wilson, Reynolds, and Gainsborough, whose lives we are about to notice, appeared to redeem the character of the nation, and dispel the feel- ing, held by foreigners and Englishmen alike, that some natural causes prevented the English from becoming masters either in painting or sculpture. • ' . •; 372 HOGARTH No great artists had arisen in England. The distracted state of the coun^^.y, the fierce wars of the Roses, and the warlike habits of the people under their Henrys and Edwards, left no time or inclination for the study of the fine arts ; and it was not until the sixteenth century, in the reign of Henry VHL, the heir of the houses of York and Lancaster, that even the foreign artist, Holbein the younger, appeared in England to guide the taste of the king, nobles, and commons. Under Elizabeth, Zucchero, who painted the portrait ot that great queen, as Holbein had that of her father, remained not long in England. Under Charles I., Rubens and Vandyck were invited to England by that art loving monarch, to provoke, if possible, the latent English spark, but the effect was marred by the civil wars, and their example left no followers. Even Cromwell had to employ the German Lely, afterwards knighted by Charles H., to paint his portrait for the Grand Duke of Tuscany, now in the splendid gallery of the Pitti Palace at Florence. And Charles H. suffered Verio to contaminate the walls of his Palaces, and delegated Lely to paint the frail beauties of his court. James H., William and Mary, Anne, and George L, rejoiced in the mediocrity of the German Sir Godfrey Kneller, whose manner vitiated the little taste then remain- ing in England, though he was extolled by his admirers, as — "Kneller, whose hand by power supreme was taught To reach the highest images of thought ; To imitate what gods themselves had made, And paint their works in vary'd light and shade ; By Art, ev'n Nature to preserve alive, And make mortality itself survive. " HOGARTH 373 racted id the s and of the in the >rk and ounger, nobles, rtrait ot jmained ms and ; loving h spark, nd their > employ s II., to , now in ;e. And [Is of his ies of his eorge I., Godfrey remain- ■ers, as — Such was the deplorable state of English art, until the genius of Hogarth, Wilson, Reynolds, and Gainsborough, in the eighteenth century, rescued from the mannered deprava- tion of foreigners the several branches of art in which they became distinguished, and laid the foundation of that pure English School, which has since produced so many bright names in the long roll of illustrious artists. Sir Joshua Reynolds must be considered the chief of the English school. His native talents were sedulously cultivated ander the strong delineations of Michael Angelo, and the bright spiritualism of Raphael. He was forty-one years of age when Hogarth died; was bom four years before, and died four years after Gainsborough, and was born ten years later than Wilson, and died ten years after him. All these men have done much for English art. Differ- ing in education, habits, style, opportunities and modes of life, they nevertheless gave to their country examples in art in the highest walks of historical, landscape, and portrait painting, and opened up, as I have already said, a new era in the history of art in Great Britain. They were friends and contemporaries, and though slight jealousies may have estranged some of them, they knew and valued the several excellencies of each other, and left behind them a character for modesty, humility, and candour, which will long be prized as the chief characteristic of genius and renown. William Hogarth, the greatest of all satirical painters, was born in the parish of St Martin, Ludgate, London, in 1697 or 1698. His father was the son of a Westmoreland yeoman, who had removed to London, where he supported himself by teaching writing. His circumstances were not prosper- 374 HOGARTH ous. Hogarth says : — " My father's pen, like that of many other authors, did not enable him to do more for me than put me in a way of shifting for myself. As I had naturally a good eye and a fondness for drawing, shows of all sorts gave me uncommon pleasure when an infant j and mimicry, common to all children, was remarkable in me. An early access to a neighbouring painter drew my attention from play, and I was at every possible opportunity employed in making drawings. I picked up an acquaintance of the same turn, and soon learned to draw the alphabet with great correctness. My exercises when at school were more remarkable for the ornaments which adorned them, than for the exercise itself. In the former I soon found that block- heads with better memories could much surpass me, but for the latter I was particularly distinguished." Hogarth was apprenticed to a silversmith, but long before he had served his time, he was heartily tired of carving crests on silver, and longed to begin engraving on copper. As soon as he was free, he began to attend the lectures ot Sir James Thomhill, serjeant painter to the king, from whose teaching, however, he did not benefit much. He began to engrave drawings, but complains that he was robbed of the legitimate reward of his labours by the printsellers. ** The first plate which I published," he says, called the Taste of the Toivn, in which the reigning follies were lashed, "no sooner began to take a run, than I found copies of it in the print shops, vending at half price, while the original prints were returned to me again, and I was thus obliged to sell the plate for whatever these pirates pleased to give me, as there was no place of sale but at their HOGARTH 375 shops." Amid these difficulties he struggled on, to his thirtieth year, when he made "a stolen union" with the daughter of Sir James Thomhill, his former teacher. Sir James, a man high in station, refused at first to open his eyes to the genius of his son-in-law, and for two years, believed that his daughter had disgraced herself, and degraded her family by her marriage. At the end of that period, however, he became reconciled and generous to the young couple. Up to the time of his marriage, Hogarth had been, in his own phrase, " a punctual paymaster," and now, to meet his increased expenditure, he "commenced painter of small conversation pieces, from 12 to 15 inclies high, which, being a novelty, succeeded for a few years." He increased his income by painting portraits, and though he always spoke with vehement contempt of this branch of art, his extant pieces show that he might easily have attained eminence in it. His portrait of Garrick and his Wife possesses great merit, and others of a similar character would alone have entitled him to a high position as an artist. In this picture Garrick is seated at his writing-table ; Mrs Garrick has apparently entered the room unobserved, and is about to snatch the pen from the hand of her husband, while the latter is in a reverie ; he is writing his prologue to Taste. This picture is now in the Royal col- lection at Windsor Castle. He entertained great hopes of succeeding as a historical painter, and, as he himself says, " painted two Scripture stories, the Pool of Bethesda, and the Good Samaritan, with features seven feet high." Hogarth always declared that high art was his real vocation. Among his friends his delight was to thump the table and snap his fingers, and say, " Historical painters be hanged ! here's the 376 HOGARTH man that will paint against any of them for a hundred pounds." But whatever his genius for high art, he soon found that, if he devoted himself to it alone, he would starve. Necessity compelled him to revert to that style which he had already begun to strike out for himself, and which, as afterwards perfected by him, led him on to fortune and immortal fame. His oil paintings never sold well, but he engraved them all, and from the sale of these engravings he realized a handsome fortune. In 1735 Hogarth sent in a petition to Parliament, drawing attention to the flagrant outrage upon justice — the pirating of prints by the printsellers ; and the result was a law securing to the artist a copyright of fourteen years in every plate from the date of publication. This engraving — Noon — is one of his original prints, published by him in March 1738, and as he states, " according to Act of Parliament." Horace Walpole, writing to Sir Horace Mann, in 1748, tells the following anecdote : — " Hogarth has run a great risk since the peace ; he went to France, and was so imprudent as to be taking a sketch of the draw-bridge at Calais. He was seized and carried to the governor, where he was forced to prove his vocation by producing several caricatures of the French ; particularly a scene of the shore with an immense piece of beef landing for the Lion D' Argent — the English Inn at Calais — and several hungry friars following it. They were much diverted with his drawings, and dismissed him." In 1753 Hogarth published his Analysis of Beauty, in which he endeavours to prove that the foundation of all beauty is a waving line curved somewhat like an S j while a less pronounced curve is the line of grace. HOGARTH 377 This idea drew down upon him a perfect shower of pamphlets and criticisms, all hostile and nearly all sarcastic in their tone. One of the quarrels that resulted from this publication was that with Wilkes and Churchill. Both of these persons — formerly Hogarth's friends — joined in the outcry against him. The first in his newspaper, the " North Briton," the other in his poetical epistle, from which I take the following bitter lines : — "Lurking, most ruffian-like, behind the screen, So placed all things to see, himself unseen. Virtue, with due contempt, saw Hogarth stand. The murderous pencil in his palsied hand. What was the cause of liberty to him. Or what was honour ? let them sink or swim, So he may gratify, without control. The mean resentments of nis selfish soul ; Let freedom perish, if to freedom tine. In the same ruin Wilkes may perish too. Hogarth had his revenge. Churchill descends to posterity as a bear hugging a post inscribed with an ascending scale of lies. Of Wilkes' famous portrait, Hogarth himself says : — " This renowned patriot's portrait, drawn like as I could as to features, and marked with some indication of his mind, fully answered my purpose. The ridiculous was apparent to every eye : a Brutus ! a Saviour of his country I with such an aspect, was so arrant a farce, that, though it drew much laughter from the lookers on, galled both him and his adherents to the bone." These contentions, which were carried on with so little credit or honour to any party, pro- duced much irritation to Hogarth, and his health visibly declined, and towards the end of 1762 he was affected with 378 HOGARTH some internal disorder that brought on a gradual decay, though his powers of mind remained unimpaired to the end. Hogarth's great work is his Marriage ct la Mode, now in the National Gallery, London. The stoiy is told in six pictures. Marriage h, la Mode is not what Hogarth has called it — a "comical story" — but a dire tragedy, showing how three persons suffered ruin and death through a course of life which, a century ago, was mildly called " folly," but what is now properly called vice. It is a history in six chapters, too long, however, to read this evening. I must therefore content myself with giving you a mere outline of the incidents. The first is the Marriage Contract. The second scene — After Marriage — shows Lord and Lady Squander at their fireside; she has been entertaining her friends at cards, and is now taking a cup of tea. He has returned intoxicated from his nightly orgy at some pande- monium in the garden or its vicinity. The third scene, that of the French quack doctors, is said to be difficult of interpre- tation. The fourth is the Countesses Levee. It is full of figures, remarkable for diversity of character. Here we find Lady Squander in the hands of her frizettr, and deeply engaged in something beyond a flirtation with Counsellor Silvertongue. The fifth scene is that in which Lord Squander discovers his wife and Silvertongue in their retreat. The men have fought ; the latter is escaping from the window, and the former is falling mortally wounded, and the watch are entering at the door. The last scene is the death of Lady Squander, who, having taken refuge at her father's in the city, poisons herself on hearing the streets resounding with " The last dying speech and confession of Counsellor Silvertongue ; " and thus terminates this eventful history. HOGARTH 379 The Idle Apprentice^ the Industrious Apprentice, South- tuark Fair, the Rakers Progress, the Harlofs Progress, Morning, Noon, Evening, and Night all tell their separate tales with such spirit and originality as to set all imitation at defiance. The six pictures of Marriage ci la Mode realised at auction only 1 20 guineas. They were purchased by Mr Lane, and at his death became the property of his nephew, Colonel Cawthorne, and in 1797 they were sold to Mr Angerstein for 1000 guineas. Hogarth's method of disposing of his works was by auction at his own house. Five minutes were allowed for biddings for each picture, and in this way the six pictures of the Harlofs Progress were sold for ;^88, 4s. ; the eight of the Rake's Progress for ;^i84, i6s. Of all English painters Hogarth's chances of immortality are the best ; and it has been well said that our chances of another Hogarth are as hopeless as our chances of another Shakespeare. His pictures are truthful delineations of the manners, and even the thoughts, of the eighteenth century. Thackeray has thus beautifully described, I may almost say dissected his works : — " We look, and we see pass before us the England of a hundred years ago. The peer in his drawing-room ; the lady of fashion in her apartment, foreign singers surrounding her, and the chamber filled with gew- gaws in the mode of that day ; the church, with its quaint florid architecture and singing congregation ; the parson with his great wig, and the beadle with his cane \ all these are represented before us, and we are sure of the truth of the portrait. We see how the Lord Mayor dines in state, how the prodigal drinks and sports at the bagnio ; how the poor girl beats hemp in Bridewell; how the thief divides his 38o HOGARTH booty and drinks his punch at the night cellar, and how he finishes his career at the gibbet. We may depend upon the perfect accuracy of these strange and varied portraits of the bye-gone generation. We see one of Walpole's members of Parliament chaired after his election, and the lieges celebrating the event, and drinking confusion to the Pre- tender ; we see the grenadiers and train-bands of the city marching out to meet the enemy ; and have before us, with sword, and firelock, and white Hanoverian horse embroidered on the cap, the very figures of the men who ran away with Johnny Cope, and who conquered at CuUoden. The York- shire waggon rolls into the inn yard ; the county parson, in his jack-boots, and his bands, and short cassock, comes trotting into town, and we fancy it is Parson Adams with his sermons in his pocket. The Salisbury fly sets forth from the old Angel ; you see the passengers entering the great heavy vehicle up the wooden steps, their hats tied down with handkerchiefs over their faces, and, under their arms, sword, hanger, and case-bottle ; the landlady, apoplectic with the liquor in her own bar, is tugging at the bell ; the hunchbacked postilion (he may have ridden the leaders to Humphrey Clinker) is begging a gratuity; the miser is grumbling at the bill. Jack, of the ' Centurion ' lies on the top of the clumsy vehicle, with a soldier by his side — it may be Smollett's Jack Hatchway — it has a likeness to Lesmahagow. You see the suburban fair, and the strolling company of actors; the pretty milkmaid singing under the windows of the enraged French musician — it is such a girl as Steele charmingly described in the * Guardian ' a few years before this date, singing under Mr Ironsides' window, in Shirelane, her pleasant carol of a ' May Morning.' You see noblemen and black- HOGARTH 381 legs betting in the cock-pit; you see Garrick as he was arrayed in A'/V/.v Richard ; Macheath and Polly in the dresses which they wore when they charmed our ancestors, and when noblemen in blue ribbons sat on the stage and heard their delightful singing. You see the ragged French soldiery in their white coats and cockades at Calais gate; they are of the regiment, very likely, which friend Roderick Random joined before he was rescued by his preserver, Monsieur de Strap, and with whom he fought on the famous day of Dettingen. You see the judges on the bench, the audience laughing in the pit; the student in the Oxford theatre, the citizen in his country walk. You see Broughton, the boxer; Sarah Malcolm, the murderess; Simon Lovat, the traitor; John Wilkes, the demagogue, leering at you with that squint of his which has become historical, and with that face which, ugly as it was, *he said he could make as captivating to a woman as the face of the handsomest beau in town.' Sometimes he dissects with hideous minuteness the follies and vices of his day. He sometimes depicts scenes that in themselves shock and repel the observer. So great, indeed, is Hogarth in these respects that the criticism of Charles Lamb becomes literally true when he says that 'his graphic representations are indeed books; they have the teeming, fruitful, suggestive meaning of words. Other pictures we look at ; his prints we read.'" As a man, Hogarth, under a somewhat rough exterior, was one of the most generous, open, and honest souls that Eng- land had to boast of in the eighteenth century. He scorned to take a mean advantage over his enemies. The very last sentence in his memorial of himself runs thus, — " This I may safely assert, that in the course of my life I have done my 382 HOGARTH best to make those about me tolerably happy, and my greatest enemy cannot say that I ever did an intentional injury." Towards the close of his career he had prospered sufficiently to become the owner of a town and country house — the latter a bequest to his wife from her father, Sir James Thomhill. He lived for a long period before his death in a good house in Leicester Square, then one of the best localities in London, and inhabited by Frederick, Prince of Wales, son of George IL The house at Chiswick was that in which Sir James Thomhill resided at the time of his daughters elopement with Hogarth. On the 25 th of October 1764 he was removed from his villa at Chiswick to his house in Leicester Square, and on the same night, the 2Sth, he expired in the arms of his wife. He was buried in the churchyard of Chiswick, near Lon- don. His wife, who never bore him any children, survived him for fifteen years, and on her death, in 1789, was buried by his side. The tomb of Hogarth is not an un- graceful structure. It had fallen into ^nuch decay, and had become the theme of public comment; but it has been admirably restored, and, on a small piece of granite at its base, is inscribed, " Rebuilt by William Hogarth, of Aber- deen, in 1856." Garrick's verses appear on the tomb — " Farewell, great painter of mankind, Who reach'd the noblest point of art, Whose pictured morals charm the mind, And through the eye correct the heart. If genius fire thee, reader, stay ; If Nature move thee, drop a tear ; If neither touch thee, turn away, For Hogarth's honour 'd dust lies here. " RICHARD WILSON 383 nd my ntional )spered :ountry her, Sir ore his ; of the , Prince ick was le of his October : to his he 25th, ear Lon- survived 89, was an un- and had las been Ite at its •f Aber- ib— Garrick sent these Unes to Dr Johnson for correction, who, in returning them, suggested the following epitaph : — " The hand of him here torpid lies That drew the essential forms of grace ; Here closed in death the attentive eyes That saw the manners in the face." Richard Wilson, an eminent landscape painter, was the third son of the Rev. John Wilson, rector of Penegoes, in Montgomeryshire, Wales, where he was bom in 17 13. His mother was of the family of ^Vynne of Leeswood, near Mold, Flintshire. He received a good classical education, and early showed a marked predilection for drawing. His connections were highly respectable, being maternally re lated to the late Lord Chancellor Camden, who acknow- ledged him as his cousin. He was taken to London, at the age of fifteen, by his relative Sir George Wynne, and placed under Wright, an obscure portrait painter, from whom, however, he acquired so much knowledge that he became a portrait painter, equal to most of his contemporaries. He must have acquired considerable rank in his profession, because, in the year 1749, he painted a large picture of George HL, when Prince of Wales, with his brother, the Duke of York, which was done for Dr Hayter, Bishop of Norwich, at that time tutor to the princes. He also painted another portrait of the same august personage, from which there is a mezzotinto print by Faber. The original picture is in the collection of the Rev. Dr Aschough, and is dated 1751- After having practised some time in London he went to Italy, and was at Rome at the same time with several 384 RICHARD WILSON f. .t ■• I'^nglish artists, who afterwards became the ornaments of their country. He there fre([uented good society, and was much respected. In Italy he continued the study of por- trait painting, thougli not with the same success that attended Sir Joshua Reynolds. Zuccherelli and Vernet, having seen his sketches, prevailed upon him to relinquish portrait painting, and apply himself to landscape. His studies in landscape must have been attended with rapid success, for he had some pupils in that line of art while at Rome, and his works were so much esteemed that Mengs painted his portrait, for which Wilson, in return, painted a landscape. In 1755, after six years' residence in Italy, he returned, and took up his abode in London. He continued to paint fine pictures, but his art was too intellectual for the public taste of his day ; his style was too broad and masterly, and did not find favour with the public. Still he persevered, and the style of this distin- guished artist formed an epoch in English landscape painting. Fuseli says that " Wilson's taste was so exquisite, and his eye so chaste, that whatever came from his easel bore the stamp of elegance and truth. His subjects were the selec- tions of taste ; and whether of the simple, the elegant, or the sublime, they were treated with equal success ; indeed, he possessed that versatility of power as to be one minute an eagle sweeping the heavens, and the next a wren twitter- ing a simple note on the humble thorn." Wilson was one of the founders of the Royal Academy, and his portrait appesxs in the interesting pictures of its early members by Zoffany. The Academy was ultimately of pecuniary use to him when he was appointed its secre- RICHARD WILSON 385 tary. It was all he then had to depend upon ; and he shifted his London residences for the worse as he increased in matured ability and declined in i)ublic patronage. He at one time resided where so many great painters had lived before him, in the north arcade of the Piazza, Covent Garden ; then in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Scjuarc ; in Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields ; at the corner of Foley Place, Great Portland Street ; and, lastly, in a wretched lodging in Tottenham Street, Tottenham Court Road. In 1760 he sent to the exhibition his picture oi Niobe which confirmed his reputation. It was after\vards bought by William, Duke of Cumberland, and is now in the i)os- session of the Duke of Gloucester's family. In 1765 he evhibited (with other pictures) a Vic7u of Rome from the Villa Modama, a capital performance, which was pur- chased by the Marquis of Tavistock. Though he had acquired great fame, yet he did not find that constant employment which his abilities deserved. This neglect might probably result from his own conduct, for it has been stated that Mr Wilson was not very prudent or attentive to his own interest ; and though a man of strong sense and superior education to most of the artists of his time, he did not possess that suavity of manners which distinguished many of his contemporaries. On this account his connections and employment insensibly diminished, and left him, in the latter part of his life, in comfortless infirmity. The late President of the Royal Academy, Sir Martin Archer Shee, has spoken of the career of Richard Wilson as "a reproach to the age in which he lived. With powers which ought to have raised him to the highest fame, and 2 B 386 RICHARD WILSON recommended him to the most prosperous fortune, Wilson was suffered to live embarrassed and to die poor." And this at a time when ;^2ooo a-year could be realised by an inferior artist, Barret, although "Wilson's landscapes," to use Barret's words, "afford the happiest illustration of what- ever there is fascinating, rich, precious, and harmonious in the Venetian colouring." A more caustic writer, equally able to decide on true merit, Dr Walcot (better known as Peter Pindar), despite of the neglect of would-be cognoscenti, exclaimed, in his satiric " Odes to the Royal Academicians" — " Old red nosed Wilson's art Will hold its empire o'er my heart, By Britain left in poverty to pine. But, honest Wilson, never mind, Immortal praises thou shalt find, And for a dinner have no cause to fear. Thou start'st at my prophetic rhymes ! Don't be impatient for these times — Wait till thou hast been dead a hundred year !" Walcot's judgment has been abundantly justified since he wrote these lines. The pictures that Wilson could only sell for a few pounds each, and then only to charitable pawnbrokers, have fetched as many hundreds. Small pic- tures, which he used to place along the skirting boards of his studio, and which, in these days, will bring from one hundred to two hundred guineas each, were bought from the artist by a well-known picture dealer for sums of one, two, and sometimes three guineas. At one time the " Eng- lish Claude" was so reduced in circumstances as to be unable to execute a small commission when he was in RICHARD WILSON 387 ;, Wilson r." And ed by an apes," to 1 of what- onious in e on true r), despite ed, in his ;d since he could only charitable Small pic- tg boards of Ig from one Dought from lums of one, ]e the " Eng- es as to be he was in great want of it, because he had not money enough to purchase canvas and colours. Wilson left London and retired to Wales, where he had a happy and comfortable home. The death of. his brother put him into possession of property in his native land, and a profitable lead mine was found upon his estate. Wilson does not work much now, he has no need \ but he is always out watching effect, and planning pictures, or select- ing scenes, or watching sunsets, or waiting for shadows, and trying to find out whether they should be of a real or of a conventional colour. The stone where he used to sit, the tree whose shade he loved, the stream he walked beside and that followed him as he walked, are there still in Den- bighshire, immortalised by him. Some of his Italian scenes are very beautiful ; I may refer to his Lake Avermcs. It appears as it existed in his day, and almost as it exists in ours, lustrous with the beauty of an Italian evening, whose quiet sunshine is reflected on its surface and on that of its Neapolitan waters stretching out into the far distance. His Ruins in Italy possesses no particular interest from the position or appearance of the building represented, but the light and shade are most care- fully handled. The Ruined Temple is a valuable example of the painter's Italian landscapes. These pictures are all in the Vernon Gallery. He painted twelve views in Rome and other parts of Italy, six views in North Wales, Apollo and the Seasons, Meleager and Atalanta, Cicero at his Villa^ and many others, all of which have been engraved. He resided at Colomondie, the seat of his cousin, Miss Catherine Jones, to whose estates he would also have suc- ceeded had he survived her. It is in the village of Lhn- 1 ) 5; 388 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS verris, Denbighshire, in the midst of scenery the artist loved, and where he would ramble daily with his faithful dog, which, when the old man falls from the stone on which he was sitting in a swoon, runs back to the house, and almost drags the servant to the spot. Watched over by his old gardener, Wilson breathed his last in an upper room in the Colomondie cottage ; and artists since, who have seen the bed where he died, have been known to throw themselves upon it, in order to say they had rested where Wilson died. He was buried in his father's churchyard at Mold, near the north door of the church, and on the gravestone is inscribed — "The remains of Richard Wilson, Esquire, Member of the Royal Academy of Artists, interred May 15th, 1782, aged 69." Beneath this inscription is added a tribute to his memory, in the Welsh language, of which the following is a transla- tion : — *' From life's first dawn his genius shed its ravj, And Nature owned him in his earliest days A willing suitor ; skill'd her lines t' impart With all the lore and graces of his art ; His noble works are still admired, and claim The just reward of an enduring fame." Sir Joshua Reynolds was born at Plympton, in Devon- shire, 1 6th July 1723, about three months before Sir God- frey Kneller died. The father, grandfather, and two uncles of Reynolds were all in holy orders, and his father, the Rev. Samuel Reynolds, was master of the Free Grammar School of his native place. A portrait of his father, painted by Sir Joshua, represents a countenance placid and benig- nant, fully bearing out the known character of this excellent -■v~ SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 389 t loved, ;, which, he was I almost his old n in the seen the emselves ;on died, near the inscribed ember of th, 1782, i memory, a transla- in Devon- Sir God- ;wo uncles father, the Grammar ir, painted md benig- is excellent but simple-minded man, and an anecdote is related of him, which proves his simplicity of manners, as well as absence of mind. He one day returned home from a ride on horseback with only one boot on \ he had dropped the other on the road without missing it; when the bootless foot was pointed out to him, he composedly remarked, " Bless me, it is very true, but I am sure I had them both when I set out from home." This worthy man did not acquire any clerical preferment, nor was he eminent as a teacher ; for though the school was endowed, it is said that, before his death, the number of his scholars was actually reduced to one. Of eleven children, five of whom died in their infancy, Joshua was the seventh. He received his school education from his father, and when very young discovered a strong inclination to painting. He had acquired some little know- ledge of the rudiments of art from copying the drawings done by his sisters; and his inclination received a strong bias from meeting with the "Jesuit's Perspective," which chanced to be in his father's possession, and which the child (he was then only eight years old) eagerly perused, and attempted to apply its rules in a drawing he made of the Cloisters. On shov/ing it to his father, the latter exclaimed, " How this exemplifies what the author of the ' Perspective ' says in his preface, that, by observing the rules laid down in this book, a man may do wonders ; for this is wonderful." On another drawing, the sketch of a book-case, made at the back of a Latin exercise, his father has written at the bottom of it — " Done by Joshua in school-time, out of pure idleness." Jacob Cott's " Book of Emblems," a curious old work, a 39° SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS copy of which was brought over to this country by Reynolds' paternal great-grandmother, was another favourite book of study and reference with him at this time; but that which afforded him most pleasure, and greatly influenced him in his desire to become a painter, was Richardson's Treatise on the Art of Painting. His father appears to have hesitated for some time as to whether he should practise the art of healing or the art of painting, and young Reynolds remarked, when the proposition was made to him respecting the choice of a profession, that he "would rather be an apothecary than an ordinary painter, but if he could be bound to an eminent master, he should choose the latter." He was accordingly placed with Mr Hudson, who was at that time the most fashionable portrait painter. He had heard of Hudson's fame, and was perfectly satisfied with the arrangement. In October 1740 he joined his future master, with whom he remained about three years, parting upon some difference taking place between them, which was probably occasioned by the unpleasant temper of the master. While Reynolds was a pupil, he painted a head from an elderly female servant of the family, in which he discovered a taste superior to most of the painters of his day. It is said that his master, upon seeing the portrait, foretold the future success of his pupil ; not without discovering, in his subsequent behaviour towards young Reynolds, some symp- toms of jealousy of his becoming a future rival. Sir Joshua's father, in a letter to his friend, Mr Cutliffe, dated 3d August 1742, says: — "As for Joshua, nobody, by his letters to me, was ever better pleased in his employment, in his master, in everything. While I am doing this I am SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 391 the happiest creature alive is his expression. How he goes on ('tis plain that he thinks he goes on very well) you'll be better able to inform me. I don't forget who I owe all this happiness to, and I hope he won't neither." The arrangement with Hudson was that he should take his pupil for four years, with the option of discharging him before the expiration of the term if he thought proper ; and, as we have seen, the painter in a fit of spleen, or jealousy, cancelled it before three years had expired. Reynolds, now twenty years of age, returned into Devon- shire, and jointly with his two unmarried sisters, took a house at Devonport, or as it was then called, Plymouth Dock, where he at once embarked in his profession of portrait painting, and soon found abundance of sitters; for his father, writing to Mr Cutliffe, says : — " Joshua is painting at the Dock. He has drawn twenty already, and has ten more bespoke." He began his career at a very low price, by which he gained not only employment, but improvement, as is strongly indicated in several of the heads he then painted, which possess a style of execution much superior to what can be found in the works of the portrait painters of that time. Sir Joshua always spoke of this period of his life as so much time thrown away (so far as related to the knowledge of the world and of mankind), of which he ever afterwards lamented the loss. However, this country probation was not without advan- tage, for here he acquired the friendship of Lord Mount Edgcumbe, and Captain (afterwards Lord) Keppel. The former encouraged him to visit Italy; and the latter having received an appointment in the Mediterranean, offered Rey- nolds a passage in his ship, the " Centurion," bound in the n n^amp^iri^^H w !,■ 392 SIR JOSHUA REYNVLDS first instance for Algiers. They sailed on the nth May 1749, touching first at Lisbon, then at Gibraltar, and after- wards proceeding to Algiers. They then set sail for Minorca, where Reynolds met with an accident, by falling, while on horseback, over a precipice, severely cutting his lip; the effect of this is seen in almost all existing portraits of Reynolds. This accident delayed him some time at Port Mahon, but he was not idle with his pencil, as several persons sat to him, while he was recovering from his fall. As soon as he was able to prosecute his journey, he took leave of his kind friend. Commodore Keppel, engaged a passage to Leghorn, and thence proceeded to Rome. How long he stayed in Rome is not known, but it was there that he may be said to have begun his studies in art. The first acquaintance he made in Rome with the works of Raphael, was very far from producing a great impression on him. He has said of this feeling : — " It has frequently happened, as I was informed by the keeper of the Vatican, that many of those whom he had conducted through the various apart- ments of that edifice, when about to be dismissed, have asked for the works of Raphael, and would not believe they had already passed through the rooms where they are preserved ; so little impression had these performances made on them. One of the first painters in France told me that this circumstance happened to himself; though he now looks on Raphael with that veneration which he deserves from all painters and lovers of the art. I re- member very well my own disappointment when I first visited the Vatican; but in confessing my feelings to a brother student, of whose ingenuousness I had a high opinion, he acknowledged that the works of Raphael SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 393 had the same effect on him ; or, rather, that they did not produce the effect which he expected. . . . My not relishing them was one of the most humiHating things that ever happened to me. I found myself in the midst of works executed upon principles with ivhich I was un- acquainted. I felt my ignorance and stood abashed." After leaving Rome he visited Genoa, Florence, Venice, and Bologna, remaining about two months at Florence, and about six weeks at Venice, altogether spending about three years in Italy. He returned to England, taking the road of Mount Cenis, where he unexpectedly met his old master, Mr Hudson, in company with Roubiliac, the sculptor, both going to pay a short visit to Rome. Reynolds arrived in London in October 1752, and took a house in St Martin's Lane, where he at once commenced his career as a portrait painter ; but he soon removed to a large mansion on the north side of Great Newport Street, where he dwelt a few years. In 1761 he removed to the west side of Leicester Square, where he bought a good house, to which he added a very convenient painting room, and an elegant gallery for the display of his pictures. As might be expected, when he attempted to put in practice the knowledge he had acquired in Italy, he found much opposition from those artists, who, having themselves followed a beaten path, could not understand why it should not content others also ; they could understand neither his principles nor his practice. His old master, Hudson, was one of the first to cry out against the young innovator; " Why, Reynolds," he cried out, on looking at a picture of a boy which the latter had recently completed, " you don't paint so well as when you left England." Ir 394 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS Ellis, who had studied under Sir Godfrey Kneller, and had been much employed as a portrait painter, expressed his opinion : — " Ah, Reynolds, this will never answer ; why, you don't paint in the least like Sir Godfrey." Ellis proved a false prophet. Reynolds found that his new style did "answer;" it soon attracted attention, and gained admirers ; his studio became the resort of beauty and fashion. He distinguished himself by his portraits of Captain (aftenvards Lord) Keppel, Captain Orm, aide-de- camp to General Braddock, Miss Crew and her brother, i\s Cupid and Pysche ; and the second Duke of Devonshire. All these were whole lengths, composed and executed in a style superior to any portraits that had been produced in England since the time of Vandyck. His fame was still further confirmed when the first exhibition was opened, in which his pictures were evidently the first of the portrait class. He had the gratification of seeing himself the author of a style of portraiture which was the object of imitation to all the rising artists of his age. It was not long after his settlement in London that he became acquainted with Dr Johnson, and though no two men could have been more opposite in temperament and disposition, yet their respect and esteem for each other ripened into a friendship firm and lasting. "Sir Joshua was lucky enough," Boswell says, "at their very first meeting to make a remark which was so much above the common-place style of conversation, that Johnson at once perceived that Reynolds had the habit of thinking for himself. The Miss Cotterells, daughters of Admiral Cotterell, at whose house they met, were regretting the I I SIR JOSHUA RE YNOLDS 395 death of a friend, to whom they owed great obh'gations, upon which Reynolds observed, 'you have, however, the comfort of being relieved from a burden of gratitude.' They were shocked a little at this alleviating suggestion, as too selfish j but Johnson defended it in his clear and forcible manner, and was much pleased with the mind — the fair view of human nature which it exhibited — like some of the reflec- tions of Rochefoucault. The consequence was, that he went home with Reynolds, and supped with him." In a letter from Dr Johnson to Bennet Langton, written in 1758, he says: — " Mr Reynolds has, within these few days, raised his price to twenty guineas a-head, and Miss is much employed in miniatures." He soon, however, received much higher remuneration for his portraits, and was enabled to entertain with elegance the most distinguished literati of the day, his hospitable table was constantly surrounded \vith men of genius and learning. Johnson, Boswell, Goldsmith, Sterne, Edmund Burke, Garrick, Percy, Lord Lansdowne, Lord Palmerston, were frequently guests; and with Burke and Johnson he was on very intimate terms. He was somewhat ostentatious in his taste, and it is related of him, that when ordering a carriage, he had the wheels carved and gilt, and bearing on its panels the four seasons of the year. When his sister complained that it was too showy, he exclaimed, " What ! would you have one like an apothecary's carriage?" It would be tedious to enumerate the numerous portraits painted by Sir Joshua. Cotton gives a catalogue of nearly 1400 portraits, presumed to have been painted between 1755 and 1790, a period of thirty-five years. I may, how- ever, mention a few of which there are good engravings : •11 396 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS His Own Portrait^ now in the Vernon Gallery, might almost be taken for a portrait by Rembrandt ; Portrait of Sir Abraham Hume, Bart., also in the Vernon Gallery, executed in a free but firm style; the Duchess of Dct'onshirc and Child, a beautiful picture. Her Grace was in her day perhaps the most celebrated lady even in the highest ranks of the aristocracy, greatly distinguished by her personal charms, so much so indeed, as to be known by the epithet of " the beautiful duchess." The original is in the possession of the Duke of Devonshire, and a copy by Etty is in the Royal collection at Windsor. In the National Gallery, London, there are several fine works by Sir Joshua — Heads of Angels, The Infant Samuel, the Portrait of the Right Honourable IV. IVindham, Portrait of Lord Heathfield, Portrait of a7i Officer, His Own Portrait, the Snake in the Grass, and a Portrait of Dr Johnson. I do not know whether or not the portrait in the National Gallery is the one alluded to by Johnson in his letter, dated 17th July 1771, addressed to Sir Joshua. In it he says : — ' " Dear Sir, — When I came to Lichfield, I found that my portrait had been much visited, and much admired. Every man has a lurking wish to appear considerable in his native place, and I was pleased with the dignity conferred by such a testimony of your regard. Be pleased, therefore, to accept the thanks of, Sir, your most obliged and most humble Servant, Sam. Johnson." Talking of melancholy, Johnson said: — "Some men, and very thinking men too, have not those vexing thoughts. Sir Joshua Reynolds is the same all the year round. . . . Melancholy, indeed, should be diverted by every means but drinking." SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 397 On another occasion, Boswell says: — "Johnson and I supped this evening at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, in company with Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr Langton, Mr Naime, now one of the Scotch Judges, with the title of Lord Dunsi- nan, and my very worthy friend. Sir William Forbes of Pitsligo. ** We discussed the question whether drinking improved conversation and benevolence. Sir Joshua maintained it did. Johnson — * No, sir; before dinner, men meet with great inequality of understanding ; and those who are conscious of their inferiority have the modesty not to talk. When they have drunk wine, every man feels himself happy, and loses that modesty, and grows impudent and vociferous ; but he is not improved; he is only not sensible of his defects.' Sir Joshua said the Doctor was talking of the effects of excess in wine ; but that a moderate glass enlivened the mind, by giving a proper circulation to the blood. * I am (said he) in very good spirits when I get up in the morning. By dinner time I am exhausted ; wine puts me in the same state as when I got up ; and I am sure that moderate drinking makes people talk better.' Johnson — * No, sir ; wine gives not light, gay, ideal hilarity, but tumultuous, noisy, clamorous merriment. I have heard none of those drunken — nay, drunken is a coarse word — none of those vinous flights.' Sir Joshua — 'Because you have sat by, quite sober, and felt an envy of the happiness of those who were drinking.' Johnson — 'Perhaps contempt; and, sir, it is not necessary to be drunk one's-self to relish the wit of drunkenness.'" Johnson continued to take a deep interest in Sir Joshua. On the occasion of the illness of the latter, he thus writes to him, 14th November 1782 : — " Dear Sir, — I heard yesterday of your late disorder, and 398 STR JOSHUA RE YNOLDS should think ill of myself if I had heard of it without alarm. I heard likewise of your recovery, which I sincerely wish to be complete and permanent. Your country has been in danger of losing one of its brightest ornaments, and I ot losing one of my oldest and kindest friends; but I hope you will still live long, for the honour of the nation ; and that more enjoyment of your elegance, your intelligence, and your benevolence is still reserved for, dear Sir, your most affectionate, &c., Sam. Johnson." Boswcll says : — " Though he [Johnson] had no taste for painting, he admired much the manner in which Sir Joshua Reynolds treated of his art, in his * Discourses to the Royal Academy.' He observed, one day, of a passage in them, *I think I might as well have said this myself;' and once when Mr Langton was sitting by him, he read one of them very eagerly, and expressed himself thus : — ' Very well. Mas- ter Reynolds ; very well, indeed. But it will not be under- stood.' " On his death-bed this great and good man requested three things of Sir Joshua Reynolds — "To forgive him thirty pounds which he had borrowed of him ; to read the Bible; and never to use his pencil on a Sunday. Sir Joshua readily acquiesced." On the loth December 1768 the Royal Academy was founded, and Reynolds was appointed President, and Knighted by the king. On 2d January 1769 he took his seat for the first time as President, when he delivered a discourse to the Royal Academicians, replete with candour and sound sense, and this course he continued to practise as often as gold medals were bestowed upon students of the academy. SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 399 The eminence to which lie had attained entitled him to great distinction ; and he was accordingly admitted to the Royal, the Anti(iuarian, and the Dilettanti Societies. He was also admitted to the honorary degree of Doctor of Civil Law hy the University of Oxford ; and in the latter part of the year 1775, ^^ sent his portrait, in his university dress, to the gallery. Upon the death of Allan Ramsay, Sir Joshua was sworn principal painter to His Majesty, in August 1784. Sir Joshua's '* Discourses " are well known as containing most valuable criticisms on art, and his observations on the works of Rubens, published after his death, by Malone, are very masterly illustrations of the merits of that Prince of the Flemish Painters. Ruskin calls him — " Swiftest of painters ;" " gentlest of companions." Edwards says of him : — " To form a just estimate of Sir Joshua's powers as an artist, it should be recollected that when he entered upon the study of painting the art was in so low a state that it was scarcely possible to i)rocure by instruction the necessary and primary principles by which the mind of a student could be formed ; and to this circum- stance it is owing that Sir Joshua never obtained a perfect or masterly knowledge of the human figure, a deficiency which he afterwards severely felt and candidly acknowledged. . . . As history painting was not the branch of art which he then studied, he applied his whole attention to those parts only which suited his purpose as a portrait painter, particularly as he wished to establish to himself a process and style superior to that wretched manner to which he had been initiated in his youth. For this purpose he made ■.*iJH:Pii!i«,yf^«Vii;iil wjiiu ii^^^y^i) iium 1 1 (i|f i 400 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS several studies after the heads of those figures of Raphael, which are in the Stanzas of the Vatican; and by these means he acquired a power of marking the features of his portraits in a style far superior to all the portrait painters who were his contemporaries. To this masterly attainment in drawing the heads of his portraits he also added an improved system of colouring, which he formed by his attention to the works of the Venetian masters. Though his first manner was imperfect in comparison with that to which he afterwards attained, yet it was infinitely superior to the general practice of the other artists in England. It was not in the use of colours only that he surpassed his contemporaries ; he also excelled in the chiaroscuro, and in the decorations of his pictures, particularly where he introduced landscapes into the backgrounds of his whole length portraits. These decorative parts were executed with great breadth and freedom of pencilling — rich in their colouring, and brilliant in their effect ; and many of them are not inferior to the works of Titian and Paul Veronese." As a portrait painter Sir Joshua ranks with the greatest masters ; and as a historical painter he gave proofs of great natural abilities, which he wanted the means of sufficiently cultivating. As a literary man, he stands deservedly high, several of his works having been translated into Italian and French. He made a very large and valuable collection of pictures, the works of the old masters ; the study of which W(ire to him the materials of his art. He also amassed a ■^ ast collection of prints and drawings of the Italian and Flemish schools. These pictures and drawings, together with some of his own unfinished pictures, were sold after his death, and realised nearly twenty thousand pounds SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 401 sterling, a large sum at that time, when art treasures were not so highly valued as at the present day, and when the value of money was so much higher than at this period of time. Sir Joshua never applied any mark or signature to his portraits, except to the whole length of Mrs Siddons, in the character of the Tragic Muse, upon which he wrote his name on the hem of her garment, to identify himself with, and in compliment to, that great actress. The prices he received for his portraits varied, and con- tinued to increase from time to time as his reputation increased. In 1755 his price for a three-quarter portrait was twelve guineas, in 1760 twenty-five guineas, and in 1780 fifty guineas. These portraits by Sir Joshua now readily command one thousand guineas each, and some of his larger works a vact deal more. His studio is described by Cunningham as "octagonal, some 20 feet long, 16 broad, and about 15 feet high. The window was small and square, and the sill 9 feet from the floor. His sitter's chair moved on castors, and stood above the floor a foot and a half; he held his palettes by a handle, and the sticks of his brushes were 18 inches long. He wrought standing, and with great celerity. He rose early, breakfasted at nine, entered his studio at ten, examined designs, or touched unfinished portraits, till eleven brought a sitter ; painted till four, then dressed, and gave the evening to company." Then came the "rough abundance" of his dinners, and the noisy hilarity of his guests ; " for," says Northcote, " as Sir Joshua's companions were chiefly men of genius, they were often disputatious and vehement in argument." 2 c V,VM'|i • ^ll^lfi. ■«■.■>» "k'U 402 SIR JOSHUA RE YNOLDS During the course of Sir Joshua's active life, he enjoyed a state of ahuost uninterrupted health, until the latter part of the year 1782, when he experienced a slight shock of what was apprehended to be a paralytic affection, for which he visited Bath, and perfectly recovered in a very short time. We have seen that this illness brought the beautiful and char- acteristic letter from Dr Johnson, which has been already quoted. In 1789 he felt a weakness in his left eye, which increased so much as to render it useless. Fearing the total loss of sight, he relinquished his favourite pursuit, a circumstance which must have been painful to him, as no artist ever delighted more in the use of his pencil. He continued to suffer from unfavourable symptoms, and having long borne with great patience and fortitude the disease, which was not understood by his physicians till about a fortnight before his death, and which was then pronounced to be liver complaint. He died on the 23d February 1792, in the sixty-ninth year of his age. On Saturday the 3d of March following, the remains of Sir Joshua Reynolds, after lying in state at the Royal Academy, were interred in the crypt of St Paul's Cathedral, near the tomb of Sir Christopher Wren. The funeral was conducted with all the honours that could be bestowed upon departed merit, and was attended by many persons of the first rank in the kingdom. The pall was supported by three dukes, two marquises, three earls, a viscount, and a baron ; and the greatest dignitaries of the church of Eng- land did honour to his burial, among others the Archbishop of York, the Bishop of London, and the Dean of Norwich. Sir Joshua was a well-bred man of sense, free from T' SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS 403 joyed a ■ part of of what hich he rt time, nd char- already 2, which ring the ursuit, a n, as no )ms, and ude the ;ians till ^^as then inth year mains of Royal athedral, leral was Destowed persons ipported nt, and a of Eng- chbishop 3rwich. ee from affected consequence ; in his conversation, remarkably pleasant and unassuming, of cultivated tastes, and most respectable character ; highly esteemed as a man, and venerated as an artist. A statue, by Flaxman, is placed in the corridor beneath the dome of St Paul's : it repre- sents Reynolds, in his robes, as president, with the volume of his lectures in his hand. Goldsmith, in his poem of " Retaliation," gives a pleasing character to Reynolds : — " Here Reynolds is laid, and to tell you my mind, He has not left a wiser or better behind : His pencil was striking, resistless, and grand ; His manners were gentle, complying, and bland : Still born to improve us in every part, His pencil our faces, his manners our heart : To coxcombs averse, yet most civilly steering, When they judg'd without skill, he was still hard of hearing : When they talked of their Raphaels, Correggios, and stuff, He shifted his trumpet,* and only took snuff." This short sketch of the life of this great English master of art cannot be more appropriately closed than in the words applied to him by his eloquent friend, Edmund Burke : — " In full influence of foreign and domestic fame, admired by the expert in art, and by the learned in science, courted by the great, caressed by sovereign powers, and celebrated by distinguished poets, his native humility, modesty, and can- dour never forsook him, even on surprise or provocation ; nor was the least degree of arrogance or assumption visible to the most scrutinizing eye in any part of his conduct or discourse." * Sir Joshua was so remarkably deaf, as to be under the necessity of using an ear-trumpet in company. i 404 GAINSBOROUGH Thomas Gainsborough was born at Sudbury, in Suffolk, in 1727. His father was a clothier in that town, and Thomas was the youngest of three sons. His grandfather was a schoolmaster, who looked upon his grandson as a scapegrace, and not likely to come to a good end. The truant scholar, however, was well employed during his hours of apparent idleness. It is said that the old cautious father, who was looked upon with a sort of dread by the Suffolk people, and who was supposed to be in the habit of carrying a pistol and a dagger about him, and was known to be able to use the small sword with both hands, followed the truant son, and found him not robbing orchards, but quietly seated on a bank drawing a cluster of flopping dock leaves, dull green above and woolly white beneath, copying them, rib and stem, and purple thorny flower, as if obeying some irresistible command to do so. Yesterday the old cloth merchant said, when he found those letters to the school- master, " Give Tom a holiday," forged for future truant use, and hidden in the cavity of a warming pan, shaking his old grey head, "Tom will be hanged;" but now, when he steals home, not disturbing the patient little unconscious fellow, and finds in nooks and chinks of his bedroom all sorts of sketches of stumps of trees, stiles, sheep, and shepherd boys, he rubs his old hands and chuckles — " I was wrong, Tom will be a genius." It was about this time that the handsome young Suffolk genius, hid in a rustic summer-house at the leafy end of his father's Sudbury orchard, took the flying likeness of a rogue whom he saw climb a jargonel tree, and who ran away at sight of the painter in ambuscade. The man afterwards, as Mrs Fulcher records, denied the offence, till the boy laugh- ► ^- "TX^ ™*-' GAINSBOROUGH 405 jffolk, , and ifather \ as a The , hours father, Suffolk arrying be able ; truant r seated 2S, dull em, rib g some |d cloth school- mt use, his old le steals fellow, sorts of liepherd wrong, Suffolk Id of his a rogue away at lards, as (y laugh- ingly flashed out the portrait of " Tom Pear-tree," and proved the offence beyond denial. His early bias was so strongly toward art that he was allowed to follow it. At the age of fourteen he left his native place for London, that he might there obtain the instruction he required to finish what nature had begun. He studied under two artists, who are now principally kno^vn from the drawings they contributed to the adorn- ment of books. One was Henry Gravelot, the other Francis Hoyman, a friend and companion of Hogarth's. They were industrious men, but not the men to do much for the genius of Gainsborough, except to teach him the mere mechanical part of his profession. He, however, stayed with Hoyman a" very short time, and resided in Hatton Garden, where he practised painting of portraits of a small size, and also pur- sued his favourite subject — landscape. After remaining about four years in London, he returned to his father's house, and shortly before his majority married Margaret Bums, a pretty Scotch girl, sister to one of his father's com- mercial travellers, and said to have been the illegitimate daughter of the Duke of Bedford. She possessed an annuity of two hundred pounds, and they retired to Ipswich, where they resided several years. From Ipswich Gainsborough removed to Bath, where he settled about the year 1758, and in that then fashionable place began his career as a portrait painter, at the low price of five guineas for a three-quarter canvas. However, his great facility in producing a likeness increased his employ- ment and fame, and he soon raised his price to eight guineas. For a whole length portrait his price was soon raised to a hundred guineas. Here he painted Quin, the I ' ^. 'w ir^wiw ■»^*wvv:^ 406 GAINSBOROUGH actor, Lord Clare, Garrick, the Duke of Argyll, and Lord Vernon's son. In 1774 he quitted Bath and settled in London, in a part of that large house in Pall Mall, which was originally built by the Duke of Schomberg. Gainsborough was capricious in his manners, and some- what unsteady and fickle in his social connections. When the Royal Academy was founded, he was chosen among the first members, but he never attended to their invitations, whether official or convivial. In the year 1784 he sent to the Royal Academy, among other pictures for exhibition, a whole length portrait, which he ordered to be placed almost as low as the floor ; but as this would have been a violation of the bye-laws of the Academy, the gentlemen of the Council ventured to remonstrate with him upon the impro- priety of such a disposition. Gainsborough returned for answer, that if they did not chose to hang the picture as he wished, they might send it back. This they immediately did. Gainsborough had previously been a considerable con- tributor to the Royal Academy exhibitions, as I find Horace Walpole, afterwards Lord Orford, writing to the Rev. W. Mason in May 1780, says: — "Gainsborough has five land- scapes there [Royal Academy, Somerset House], of which one especially is worthy of any collection, and of any painter that ever existed." And, writing to the same per- son in May 1781, he says: — "The exhibition is much inferior to last year's ; nobody shines there but Sir Joshua and Gainsborough. Gainsborough has two pieces with land and sea, so free and natural, that one steps back for fear of being splashed." Among his amusements music was almost as much his T^ GAINSBOROUGH 407 ich his favourite as painting. This passion led him to cultivate the intimacy of all the great musical professors of his time. Mr Jackson, of Exeter, an able musician, and intimate friend of Gainsborough, has furnished some anecdotes, from which we take the following : — " Gainsborough's pro- fession was painting, music was his amusement ; yet there were times when music seemed to be his employment, and painting his diversion. As his skill in music has been celebrated, I will, before I speak of him as a painter, men- tion what degree of merit he possessed as a musician. When I first knew him he lived at Bath, where Giardini had been exhibiting his then unrivalled powers on the violin. His excellent performance made Gainsborough enamoured of that instrument, and conceiving, like the servant maid in the " Spectator," that the music lay in the fiddle, he was frantic until he possessed the very instrument which had given him so much pleasure, but seemed sur- prised that the music of it remained behind with Giardini. He had scarcely recovered this shock (for it was a great one to him) when he heard Abel on the viol-di-gambi \ the violin was hung on the willows, Abel's viol-di-gamba was purchased, and the house resounded with melodious thirds and fifths from morn to dewy eve. Fortunately my friend's passion had now a fresh object — Fischer's hautboy. The next time I saw Gainsborough it was in the character of King David. He had heard a performer on the harp at Bath ; the performer was soon left harpless. In this man- ner he frittered away his musical talents, and though pos- sessed of ear, taste, and genius, he never had application enough to learn his notes ; he scorned to take the first step ; the second was, of course, out of his reach, and the summit II I II lu i« aii^pi II 408 GAINSBOROUGH became unattainable. His conversation was sprightly, but licentious ; his favourite subjects were music and painting, which he treated in a manner peculiarly his own ; the com- mon topics, or any of a superior cast, he thoroughly hated, and always interrupted by some stroke of wit or humour." As an artist his talents were unquestionably of the first class, whether he be considered as a painter of portraits, of landscapes, or of fancy pieces. He was proud and quick tempered, and quarrelled with Sir Joshua Reynolds because Sir Joshua had the insolence to be taken ill just as he was going to paint him. On another occasion, when a prosy lord called out, "Now, sir, I desire you not to overlook this dimple on my chin," he shouted out, "Damn the dimple, I won't paint you or your chin ; " and when another outrageous nobleman swore at the painter's delay, drew his brush across the girlish face, saying, "Where is my fellow now?" Leslie says of Gainsborough — " Love and be silent." And Ruskin — "Gainsborough, a great name his, whether of the English or any other school. The greatest colourist since Rubens, and the last, I think, of legitimate colourists ; that is to say, of those who were fully acquainted with the power of their material; pure in his English feeling, pro- found in his seriousness, graceful in his gaiety, there are nevertheless certain deductions to be made from his worthi- ness which yet I dread to make, because my knowledge of his landscape works is not extensive enough to justify me in speaking of them decisively ; but this is to be noted of all that I know, that they are rather motives of feeling and colour than earnest studies ; that their execution is in some degree mannered, and always hasty; that they are alto- ii^A'^nii 'w i>v' mvw' r' GAINSBOROUGH 409 gether wanting in the affectionate detail of which I have already spoken ; and that their colour is in some measure dependent on a bituminous brown and conventional green, which have more of science than truth in them Nothing can be more attractively luminous or aerial than the distance of the Gainsborough, nothing more bold or inventive than the forms of its crags and the diffusion of the broad distinct light upon them, where a vulgar artist would have thrown them into dark contrast." There are several of Gainsborough's pictures in the National Gallery, London — Portrait of a Ge^itleman, Por- trait of Mrs Siddons, Portraits of James Baillie and Family^ are all beautiful; his Parish Clerk is a most magnificent portrait, not unworthy of Titian ; and his Watering Place and the Market Cart are admirable landscapes. In the Vernon Gallery there are a number. I shall, however, only allude to two, of which there are engravings — Musidora and the Watering Place. The former is one of the very few examples of this class which Gainsborough produced. The work is, however, much faded. The latter is a lovely landscape. The time is evening, and the fine groups of trees on either side are lighted up with the rays of the setting sun, which give them a rich mellow colour. He has introduced a white cow into this picture, to which he was partial, because he knew its value as a point of light. It tells here effectively against the dark forms and trees behind, and adds to the brilliancy of the picture. In the Walk at Kew, the personages introduced are sup- posed to be Henry Frederick, Duke of Cumberland, grand- son of George II. : his v.ife, Anne Horton, daughter of Lord Irnham; and the Lady Elizabeth Luttrell. It was 410 GAINSBOROUGH this marriage, and that of Cumberland's brother, the Duke of Gloucester, who married the Dowager Countess of Wal- degrave, that led to the passing of the Royal Marriage Act. This picture is in the Royal collection, at Windsor Castle. He painted the portraits of Garrick and Foote, but did not succeed in their likenesses according to his wishes, and humorously excused himself for his failure by observing that " they had everybody's face but their own," a very true and pertinent remark, as applied to the portraits of actors. Gainsborough was a man singularly endowed with the gifts of nature. He was handsome in person, gentle and cheerful in disposition, but occasionally, as we have seen, quick and touchy; of brilliant conversational powers, and extremely fond of music. He was fortunate in his mar- riage, and passionately attached to his wife, whose fortune placed him in comparative independence at their outset in life, which continued prosperous to its close. He was attacked by a swelling of the throat, which was soon dis- covered to be of a deadly nature, and which baffled the skill of the first medical professors. Aware of his danger, he settled his affairs, and composed himself to meet the fatal moment. His last desire was to be at peace with Sir Joshua Reynolds, who came to his bedside in time to see him die. His last words were, " We are all going to heaven, and Vandyck is of the company." He calmly expired on the 2d of August 1788, in the sixty-first year of his age, and was buried, according to his own request, near the remains of his former friend, Mr Kirby, in Kew Churchyard. The painter's grave is marked by a large flat slab. It is no unpleasant spot, for trees shadow it and pure air surrounds it. Reynolds and Sheridan r GAINSBOROUGH 411 saw him placed as he wished. He desired that his name only should be cut upon the stone. It is therefore in- scribed — " Thomas Gainsborough, Esq., died August the 2d, 1788, Aged 61 years." He left two daughters, the elder of whom married Mr Fischer, the musician. His widow was buried in the same grave, and her death is thus recorded — "Margaret Gainsborough, wife of the above Thomas Gainsborough, died December the 17th, 1798, in the 72d year of her age." ** Husband and wife ! no converse now ye hold, As once ye did in your young days of love, On its alarms, its anxious hours, delays, Its silent meditations, its glad hopes, Its fears, impatience, quiet sympathies ; Nor do ye speak of joy assured, and bliss Full, certain, and possess'd. • •••••• Stillness profound, Insensible, unheeding, folds you round ; And darkness, as a stone, has seal'd you in. Away from all the living, here ye rest, In all the nearness of the narrow tomb, Yet feel ye not each other's presence now. Dread fellowship ! together, yet alone. " \ 11 LECTURE XII. GEORGE JAMESON, JOHN SCOUGALL, ALLAN RAMSAY, SIR HENRY RAEBURN, AND SIR DAVID WILKIE *' O Caledonia ! stem and wild, Meet nurse for a poetic child ! Land of brown heath and shaggy wood, Land of the mountain and the flood, Land of my sires ! what mortal hand Can e'er untie the filial band That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Scott It may not be uninteresting to bring under notice the state of art in Scotland, from its early dawn until almost the present era. But the materials at my disposal are scanty and meagre : the painters and artists of that country being few in number, and the records concerning them unsatisfac- tory, and not very reliable. The various intestine quarrels and disputes between the nobility and gentry, the petty wars between the highlands and the lowlands, the border feuds, the constant wars with her powerful neighbour of England, the intrigues of France, the strong disputes of the Reforma- tion, the rebellions in favour of the Stuart dynasty, and the warlike nature and poverty of the great body of the people, r /AMESOM 413 VY, SIR the state [most the |re scanty itry being insatisfac- quarrels ^etty wars ler feuds, [England, .eforma- and the le people, indisposed them for the elevating and softer studies of art and science ; but through the gloom of those distracting and eventful periods some names of power and distinction may be discerned, and George Jameson, John Scougall, the elder, and John Scougall, the younger, in the sixteenth and seven- teenth, and Allan Ramsay, Sir Henry Raeburn, and Sir David Wilkie, in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, and the many bright names, which have since arisen, prove con- clusively that art was not dead in Scotland, and that a taste for the noble and elevating studies of the pencil and the pen only required peaceful days, and a moderate accession of wealth, to develope the native genius of the people. George Jameson is the first name of note to be found, in the annals of that country, of whom it can be said, he was a great master of art. He was son of Andrew Jameson, an architect, and was born at Aberdeen in 1586, and studied under Rubens, at Antwerp. He has been called the Van- dyck of Scotland, having been born thirteen years before, and having died only three years later, than that great artist. After his return to Scotland he applied himself with laudable industry to the study of portrait painting in oil, though he sometimes painted miniatures, and also historical pieces, and landscapes. His largest portraits were generally smaller than life, but they are distinguished by their delicacy and softness, and their clear and beautiful colouring. When King Charles I. visited Scodand in 1633, the magistrates of Edinburgh, knowing his majesty's taste, employed Jameson to make drawings of the Scottish monarchs, with which the king was so pleased, that he sat to him for a full-length picture, and rewarded him with a diamond ring from his own finger. Jameson \ \ \ \ ll r> 414 JOHN SCOUGALL always drew himself with his hat on, either in imitation of his master Rubens, or from having been indulged in that liberty by the king, when his majesty sat to him. Some of Jameson's works are in the college of Aberdeen, not in very good preservation; but the best collection ot his works is, or rather was, at the magnificent seat of the late Marquis of Breadalbane, Taymouth Castle. Since the death of the marquis, I understand that most of the plate, furniture, and pictures have been dispersed, and are no longer the property of the present earl. Jameson died at Edinburgh, in 1644, and was interred in ,)/ the Grey friars' churchyard, but no monument has been erected to his memory. He was little known in England, and has not been noticed by any English writer, except Lord Orford. But he was much esteemed in his native country, and Arthur Johnston, the poet, addressed to him an elegant Latin epigram on his Portrait of the Marchioness of Huntly. Pinkerton, in remarking on Bishop Scougall, says: — Ij " His contemporary, Scougall, the painter, was apparently {i of the same family. Between Jameson and Scougall there seems a break in the list of Scottish artists — Scotland, indeed, hardly produced a writer or artist during the \\ commonwealth of England 1649-60, and even its annals /I ' of that period are obscure. The history of Scotland under the Commonwealth, illustrated from original papers, would form a curious and interesting work." In his account of George Jameson, the painter, he says : — " The elder Scougall, an imitator of Lely and Corrudes, appeared in Charles the Second's reign, and was followed ♦ by De Wyk or De Wit, and by the younger Scougall ;" and JOHN SCO UG ALL 415 in the introduction : — " The elder Scougall, who, in his draperies, imitated the style of Sir Peter Lely, had a great repute in the time of Charles II., and portraits of his hand are in almost every family in Scotland. For some years after the Revolution the younger Scougall was the only painter in Scotland, and had a very great run of business ; this brought him into a hasty and incorrect manner." The younger Scougall here alluded to was John Scougall, who painted the Portrait of George Herwt, which is now in the Council Room of the Hospital, Edinburgh. In the account of Heriot's Hospital, it is stated, that " the picture is a copy by Scougall, from an original not now extant ;" and in the records of the Hosjiital, the following entry appears relative to this picture. — "4th April 1698. The Council having seen an old picture or draught of George Heriot, the founder of the hospital, and considering that there is none of them within the Hospital, they there- fore ordain the Treasurer to cause draw a new draught of the founder's picture at length, and set up the same in the Council Room of the Hospital." The following account of John Scougall's residence is taken from " Memorials of Edinburgh in the Olden Time," by Dr Daniel Wilson, now Professor in the University of Toronto, Canada : — " The lowest house on the east side [Advocates' Close], directly opposite to that of the Lord Advocate, was the residence of an artist of some note in the seventeenth century. It has been pointed out to us, by an old citizen still living, as the house of his grandmother's grandfather, the celebrated John Scougall, painter of the portrait of George Heriot, which now hangs in the Council Room of the Hospital; so that here was the fashionable H 1 ,„t,mm,^f^,^nm^.vn'nitimtf^^nm'^r 416 JOHN SCOUGALL i n\ ;1 • i I '.': lounge of the dillettanti of the seventeenth century, and the resort of rank and beauty, careful to preserve unbroken the links of the old line of family portraiture ; though a modem fine lady would be seized with a nervous fit at the very prospect of descending the slippery abyss." In a note to the above, he says : — " John Scougall, younger of that name, was a cousin of Patrick Scougall, consecrated Bishop of Aberdeen in 1644. He added the upper story to the old land in Advocates' Close, and fitted up one of the floors as a picture gallery. Some of his finest works were possessed by the late Andrew Bell, engraver, the originator of the ' Encyclopaedia Brittanica,' who married his grand-daughter. John Scougall died at Pres- tonpans about the year 1730, aged eighty-five., having witnessed a series of as remarkable political changes as ever occurred during a single life-time." Between Jameson and the younger Scougall, the only artist of note in Scodand was John Scougall the elder, already alluded to, and about whom so little is known, Sir John Baptist Medina, the last knight created in Scot- land previous to the Union by the high commissioner of that kingdom, having been a contemporary of the younger Scougall, born in 1660, and died in 1711. The younger Scougall was born in 1645, and died in 1730. These artists alone appear to fill up the whole art space of the seventeenth century in Scotland, disappearing in the early dawn of the eighteenth, to be replaced by a number of artists, none of any great capacity, with the exception of Allan Ramsay. I may, however, mention the most distinguished — Alexander Runciman, Master of the Aca- demy of Arts, at Edinburgh, died about the year 1780. f |."1^|WI»M"M| ALLAN RAMS A Y 417 .nd the :en the modern le very note to of that jecrated ; upper itted up lis finest jngraver, :a,' who at Pres- „ having anges as the only he elder, known, in Scot- isioner of younger younger These ;e of the [the early mber of eption of Ihe most |the Aca- ar 1780. Sir George Chalmers, Bart., of Cults, on whom the honours of his family descended without fortune, which was lost by their connection with the Stuart family, a native of Edinburgh, and scholar of Allan Ramsay, died in 1 79 1. Jacob Moore, a native of Edinburgh, said to have been a good landscape painter, died at Rome , in 1793. David Allan, called the Scots' Hogarth, a native of Edinburgh, succeeded Runciman as Master of the Academy of Arts, at Edinburgh, and died there in 1796 — a man of more than average ability. John Medina, a portrait painter, grandson of Sir John Medina, and a native of Edinburgh, where he died in 1796. David Martin, a scholar of Allan Ramsay, was a painter, and also an engraver; he studied at Rome, and lived some time in England, but after the death of his wife, returned to Edinburgh, where he died in 1797. Gavin Hamilton, of very good family, born at Lanark ; he studied and resided at Rome, where he died in 1797. Allan Ramsay, son of Allan Ramsay, author of that pleasing pastoral drama, the " Gentle Shepherd," was bom at Edinburgh in 1709. His mother was Christian Ross, daughter of an Edinburgh writer. The poet was a periwig maker, or hairdresser, for eighteen years at least, but after- wards became a respectable bookseller. In a letter, in verse, to a friend, he thus quaintly alludes to his occupation — " I theek the out and line the inside O' mony a douce and witty pash, An' baith ways gather in the cash. Contented I ha'e sic a skair, An' fain wad prove to ilka Scot That poortith's no' the Poet's lot." 2 D mill Willi. jiiiuiii|i«|ii;jiH> ■mrniipifiii 418 ALLAN RAMS A Y But the Ramsays were of gentle blood. The poet's father and grandfather, both Roberts, were writers in Edinburgh, and managers for the Earl of Hopetoun's lead mines in Crawford Moor, and his greatgrandfather was Captain John Ramsay, son to Ramsay of Cockpen, brother to Ramsay of Dalhousie. Allan Ramsay, the painter, was liberally educated, and, as his father's letter shows, studied his profession both in London and Rome. The poet, in a letter, dated loth May 1736, to Mr John Smibert, portrait painter, says: — "My son Allan has been pursuing his science since he was a dozen years auld; was with Mr Hyssidg, at London, for some time about two years ago; has since been at home, painting here like a Raphael; sets out for the seat of the beast, beyond the Alps, within a month hence, to be away about two years. I'm sweer to part with him, but ca7t7ia stem the current which flows from the advice of his patrons, and his own inclination." In Italy Ramsay received instruction from Solimene and Imperiale, two artists of repute in that country. After his return he practised for some time in Edinburgh, but chiefly in London, and acquired considerable reputation in his profession. By the interest of Lord Bute he was introduced to King George III., when Prince of Wales, whose portrait he had the honour to paint both at whole length, and also in profile. From these pictures prints were engraved; the former by Mr Ryland, the latter by Mr Woolett. He painted the portraits of many of the principal per- sonages among his countrymen, and though he did not acquire the highest degree of lank in his profession, yet he MM(«minent it ion as istances e of his n coun- nicians. and was him by healthy i ; there to one Raeburn person, classical natural sculp- is taste idea of prefer- nd ship lla of St suburb Place, ardour, of his , until a on the Sir David Wilkic was the third son of the third mar- riage of the Rev. David Wilkie, minister of the parish of Cults, in Fifeshire, where he was born i8th November 1785. His mother was Isabella, daughter of Mr James Lister, farmer, and elder of the church of Cults. His family, originally settled in Midlothian, had held the small estate of Ratho-Byres for four hundred years ; but by the imprudence of some members of the family, the property had passed to a younger branch ; and John Wilkie, Sir David's grandfather, held it only as its tenant and cultivator. The reverend father of the artist seems to have had his share of the improvident habits of the family, for he married three wives in succession, while only enjoying an income of less than ;^ioo sterling per annum. The mother of Sir David Wilkie was a true and loving woman, and to her he turned for sympathy and consolation, both when struggling with poverty in London, and afterwards when famous and honoured by the great and noble of the land. It is said he preferred, when a child, to sit on the ground, with a slate and pencil, making queer drawings, rather than engage in the games of his elder brothers ; and his school- fellows called him the " wee sunny haired bairn." At his mother's knee he learnt to read ; but before he had learned to read, he had found out for himself how to draw. He was born an artist, and began to scratch figures on the floor of the manse at Cults almost as soon as he could crawl over it. To his mother's gentle teaching succeeded that of the schoolmas- ter of Pitlessie, a neighbouring village; but here young David made but little progress ; so at twelve years of age he was re- moved to the grammar school of Kettle, then under the charge of Mr Strachan, a man afterwards well known in Canada, and 428 S/J^ DA VI D WILKIE highly esteemed there, who from being a parish schoolmaster in Scotland, and, I believe, a licentiate of the Church of Scotland, became a leader in the Episcopal Chi rch in Canada, and Bishop of Toronto. But Mr Strachan's severer injunctions had no more effect than the Pitlessie schoolmaster's " gentle rebukes." Drawing was the only work in which he felt the slightest interest, and after remaining eighteen months at Kettle, his father took him away, and consented to allow the boy, though most unwillingly, to follow his own course. He, however, pro- cured a letter of introduction from the Earl of Eeven to Mr George Thomson, then secretary of the Trustees' academy at Edinburgh, whither Wilkie proceeded in 1799, when only fourteen years of age. Mr Thomson was not satisfied with the specimens of his drawings which the young artist placed before him, and at first refused to admit the applicant to the instimtion ; but at the earnest request of the Earl of Leven he at length consented. At this time the school was under the direction of John Graham, from whose instructions Wilkie profited during four years. Mr John Burnet, the eminent engraver, who was a fellow-student, says of him, with reference to this early period : — " In that sort of drawing in which taste and knowledge are united, he was far behind others, who, without a tithe of his talent, stood in the same class. Though behind in skill, he however surpassed, and that from the first, all his companions in comprehending the character of whatever he was set to draw." And Sir W. Allan, another fellow-student, has recorded that the progress made by Wilkie when at Edinburgh "was marvellous; everything he attempted indicated a knowledge far beyond his years \ and he soon took up that position in art which he X '■■" SIR DA VID WILKIE 429 olmaster lurch of 11 rch in )re effect Drawing rest, and her took igh most ver, pro- en to Mr ademy at hen only jfied with 1st placed mt to the of Leven ^as under itructions rnet, the im, with awing in r behind he same scd, and iding the 1 Sir W. progress rvellous ; r beyond which he maintained to the last. He was always on the look out for character ; he frequented trystes, fairs, and market places." In 1803 he gained the ten guinea premium for the best painting — the subject, Calisto iti the Bath of Diana. It was sold after his death for about ;^5o. Whilst in Edinburgh, Wilkie occupied a small room up two pairs of stairs in Nicolson Street. Here, when the two academy hours were over, to which he was " as punctual as time," he might generally be found, says Allan Cunningham, the Bible and the 'Gentle Shepherd' on a table before him, a few sketches on the walls, and his favourite fiddle by his side to refresh himself with when he got weary of painting, or to put his live models into good humour when inclined to rebel at too long a sitting. His music had such charms that once, it is related, when he offered an old beggar man to whom he had been playing a few pence over and above the tune, the old fellow refused them, saying, " Hout ! put up your pennies, man ; I was e'en as glad o' the spring as ye were !" In 1804 he left the academy and returned home; but before his departure he had made sketches for his picture of the Village Politicians. While at home he painted the first of those works by which he earned his great reputation — Pitlessie Fair, a commission from Kinnear of Kinloch ; it contains about one hundred and forty figures, mostly portraits, many of which he sketched, it is said, at church, as he had no other way of procuring them ; he received from his patron ^£2^ for this picture. He painted also at this time several portraits, both large and small ; and also the Village Recruit, which he carried with him to London, where he arrived in 1805. Before going to London he had tried Aberdeen and other places in Scotland, but he found 430 SIR DA VID WILKIE few sitters, and could obtain neither colours, brushes, nor canvas : so little was art in request at that time in the north of Scotland. Unfriended and unknown in the great metropolis, he was compelled, as many other clever young artists have too often been, to try the readiest and most simple means of disposing of his pictures. The Village Recruit was exhibited for sale in the window of a frame maker at Charing Cross, where it soon found a purchaser at the price of j[^(i. Other pictures were disposed of through the same agency, and by these and other means he was enabled to maintain himself, while pur- suing his studies in the Royal Academy, into the schools of which he obtained admission soon after his arrival in London. " There is a raw, tall, pale, queer Scotchman come, an odd fellow, but there is something in him ; he is called * Wilkie,'" writes Jackson, a pupil at the Royal Academy, to Haydon, who had just begun his career. Wilkie's first patron in London was the late William Stodart, the well-known piano-forte manufacturer. Stodart, who had married a lady of the name of Wilkie, not, how- ever, supposed to have been a relative of the young artist, sat to him for his portrait, gave him a commission to paint two pictures for him, and introduced him to a valuable connection, which produced several sitters. Among those to whom Wilkie had been introduced by Stodart, was the Earl of Mansfield, who, when he saw the sketch of the Village Politicians, requested that a picture might be painted from it. The artist demanded j£,i^ as the price of the work, to which the Earl only replied, " Consult your friends about this." The picture was finished, and exliibited at the Royal Academy in 1806, where it excited •f SIR DA VID WILKIE 431 les, nor le north , he was 00 often isposing for sale where it pictures lese and hile pur- :hools of London. ;, an odd VVilkie,'" Haydon, William Stodart, ot, how- g artist, o paint aluable g those was the of the ght be le price Consult 2d, and excited such universal admiration, that Wilkie was advised not to part with it for less than thirty guineas. This sum he de- manded of the Earl, who paid it under protest. This picture excited no little curiosity among the connoisseurs of the metropolis, and some animadversion among the artists, and especially the academicians : Northcote designated it the *' pauper style," and Fuseli, meeting young Wilkie, who was then only in his twenty-first year, said to him, " Young man, that is a dangerous work. That picture will either prove the most unhappy, or the most fortunate work of your life." It turned out to be the latter, and determined the artist's future destiny. Most painters of eminence have had a progressive period — a time when improvement was obvious in every successive work, the early works being feeble in comparison with those of their more mature experience. But Wilkie came at once before the public a master, and original in style, partaking somewhat of the style of Teniers, Ostade, and Gerard Dow, but greatly surpassing those masters in breadth and variety, and giving to his subjects a higher and more historical appearance and character. On coming to London, Wilkie took lodgings in Portland Street, Portland Road, from whence he walked twice a-day to the academy. He thus records his first experiences of London life, in a letter to his brother : — " Dear Brother, — I am now come to like this place extremely well, for I have everything here I can wish for, and although I live at much greater expense than I did in Edinburgh, yet I also find that I live much better. I breakfast at home, and dine at an ordinary, a place where about a dozen gentlemen meet, at two o'clock, and have a Ill lint,— J«1P< »-»■ ijipi (J(™ 432 SIR DAVID WILKIE dinner served up that only costs them thirteen pence a head, which I am sure is as cheap as any person can have such a dinner in any part of Great Britain ; besides we have the advantage of hearing all the languages of Europe talked with the greatest fluency, the place being mostly frequented by foreigners ; indeed, it is a rare thing to see an Englishman, while there are Corsicans, Italians, French, Germans, Welsh, and Scotch." The Village Politicians was followed by the Blind Fiddler, painted for Sir George Beaumont in 1806. It was exhibited in 1807, and is now in the National Gallery of England. Sir George was one of Wilkie's earliest patrons, and con- tinued to be a true friend till death separated them. Alfred in the Neatherd's Cottage was also painted in 1 806. The Rent Day was painted for the late Earl of Mulgrave in 1807, for the sum of 300 guineas. After his lordship's death, the picture was, with others, offered for sale at Christie and Manson's, but was bought in by the earl's family at the price of 750 guineas. The Card Players, painted for the late Duke of Glouces- ter in 1808, and for which the artist received fifty guineas, was sold by the duchess, at a subsequent period, to Mr Bredel for 500 guineas. Of his academy studies he writes to a friend : — " Dear Sir, — I am still attending the Royal Academy, which I make a point of doing from morning till night. . . . I have seen a great many very fine pictures of the old school, which have given me a taste very different from that which I had when I left Edinburgh, and I am now convinced that no picture can possess real merit unless it is a just representation of nature." -W^MfP^v^W^r^ HPRI^ • ■V III i« «| ^//? DAVID WILKIE 433 Notwithstanding the success of these pictures, the money he received for his productions was very small in amount. He writes to his brother John, who is in India : — " You will very naturally conclude, from the accounts you have most likely heard of the fame that I have acquired, that I must be rapidly accumulating a fortune. It is, however, I am sorry to say, very far from being the case ; what I have received since I commenced my career has been but barely sufficient to support me, and I do not live extravagantly either. In- deed, my present situation is the most singular that can well be imagined. I believe I do not exaggerate when I say that I have at least forty pictures bespoke, and some by the highest people in the land ; yet, after all, I have seldom got anything for any picture I have yet painted." This letter was written after his return from Scotland, where he had gone to pay a visit to his parents after the exhibition of 1807. His fame had preceded him, and this visit to Scotland was afterwards characterised by Wilkie as the happiest time of his life, although, during a great part of it, he was laid up with fever at the manse. The fact that his work was insufficiently paid for, seems to have been more Wilkie's own fault than that of his pur- chasers, who continually sent him double the price he had himself put on a picture. His constant and kind friend, Sir George Beaumont, often scolds him for the extremely low price which he affixed to his pictures ; and Lord Mulgrave, whilst sending a cheque for double the sum named for a picture, says : — " I intend it as an admonition to avoid such disinterestedness for the future." In September 1 808 Wilkie went on a visit to the Marquis of Lansdowne, at Southampton Castle, where he painted the 2 E w-w^^^^^^wry^ 434 S/J^ DA VID WILKIE portrait of the marchioness. His journal often records visits to the seats of various members of the aristocracy, but no hospitality was so much enjoyed by him as the delightful freedom of Coleorton and Dunmow, the seats of Sir George Beaumont, to one of which places Wilkie was often carried off by Sir George, when he thought that he had been painting too long, or was too weak in health to remain in London. In 1809 Wilkie was elected Associate of the Royal Academy ; he was then only twenty-four years of age, and had only exhibited four seasons. Two years afterwards he was chosen Academician. It is doubtful if the annals of the academy could produce a parallel case of honours so early, yet so worthily won. In May 181 2 he opened an exhibition of all his pictures, twenty-nine in number, including sketches, from which he expected to derive considerable profit \ but the expenses ot the exhibition exceeded the receipts to some amount, so that though it added to his reputation, it impoverished his purse. In 1 8 13 he painted Blind Mar^s Buff for the Prince Regent. Besides the Bagpiper, we find from his journal that Wilkie must have painted about this time Duncan Gray, completed The Letter of Introduction, taken portraits of himself, his brother and sister, and made several sketches, including a Study of an Old Woman. After finishing these works, Wilkie, in company with Haydon, paid a visit to Paris. Here he was taken ill. Haydon tells a story, that having gone out, and returning after a few hours' absence, he found Wilkie sitting up, " laughing ready to die," and trying to teach his landlady English. When Haydon entered, she S/jR DA VID WILKIE 435 held up a paper on which Wilkie had written, — " Peter Piper picked a peck of pepper off a pewter plate," &c., which it appeared Wilkie was in vain endeavouring to make her pronounce. Haydon kept up the joke, and poor madame no doubt thought English a more barbarous language than ever. In the winter of 1 814-15 he was busily at work on the Distraining for Rent. I'his picture had been suggested to him by one of his own paintings having been seized at his exhibition, in Pall Mall, for rent due from some former tenant, and he had to pay ;^32 before he could get the picture, the Village Festival^ back. This picture was painted for the Directors of the British Institution. In 1816 he made a tour in Holland, with Raimbach the engraver. He thus describes the impression this country made upon him, in a letter to Sir George Beaumont : — " One of the first circumstances that struck me wherever I went was M'hat you had prepared me for, the resemblance that everything wore to the Dutch and Flemish pictures. On leaving Ostende, not only the people, the houses and trees, but whole tracts of country reminded one of the landscapes of Teniers ; and, on getting farther into the country, this was only relieved by the pictures of Rubens, Wouvermans, and some other masters, taking his place. I thought I could trace the particular districts in Holland where Ostade, Jan Stein, Cuyp, and Rembrandt had studied, and could fancy the very sp.L where pictures of other masters had been painted. Indeed, nothing seemed new to me in the whole country, for I had been familiar with it all on canvas ; and what one could not help wondering at was, that these old masters should have been able to 436 SIR DA VI D WILKIE draw the materials of so beautiful a variety of Art from so contracted and monotonous a country." In 1817 Wilkie enjoyed his summer holiday in Scotland, and re-visited all the scenes of his boyhood. He became acquainted with several very celebrated men during this visit, amongst whom were Sir Walter Scott and Dr Chalmers. Wilkie visited Scott at Abbotsford, and thus writes during his sojourn there : — " There is nothing but amusement from morning till night ; and if Mr Scott is really writing * Rob Roy,' it must be while we are sleeping. He is either out planting trees, superintending the masons, or erecting fences the whole of the day." Whilst at Abbots- ford, Wilkie paid a visit to the Ettrck Shepherd, who then lived in a small cottage on the Yarrow. Mr Laidlaw, in introducing Wilkie, did not mention that he was the painter, but at last a suspicion dawned on the mind of Hogg. " Laidlaw," he exclaimed, " this is no' the great Mr Wilkie?" "It's jist the great Mr Wilkie," replied Laid- law. " Mr Wilkie," exclaimed the Shepherd, seizing him by the hand, " I cannot tell how proud I am to see you in my house, and how glad I am that you are so young a man." When Scott was told this anecdote, " The fellow ! " said he, " it was the finest compliment ever paid to man." It was during this visit that the well-known picture of Sir Walter Scott and His Family was painted, in the charac- ter of South-country peasants. In 18 1 8 he painted the Penny Wedding for the Prince Regent, and in 1820, the Reading of the Will for the then King of Bavaria, from whom the artist received 450 guineas as its price. George IV., when he saw it, admired it so much that he wished Wilkie to send a duplicate copy to the S//^ DA VID WILKIE 437 King of Bavaria, and let him have the original. To this arrangement, however, Wilkie could not accede, as the picture undoubtedly belonged to the King of Bavaria. A long correspondence took place on the subject between the courts, bu't finally the Reading of the Will was sent to Munich, and is now in the Royal Gallery there. In 182 1 he completed the Chelsea Pensioners, commenced in 1 81 7, for the Duke of Wellington. The following entries occur in Wilkie's journal concerning this picture and its price, which illustrate the strict business regularity of the great duke : — "May 20, 1822. Received a note from the Duke of Wellington, asking what he was indebted for the picture. This picture contains sixty figures, and took me full sixteen months' constant work, besides months of study to collect and arrange. It was ordered by the Duke in the summer of 18 1 6, the year after the battle of Waterloo. His Grace's object was to have British soldiers regaling at Chelsea ; and in justice to him, as well as to myself, it is but right to state that the introduction of the Gazette was a subsequent idea of my own to unite the interest, and give importance to the business of the picture. "May 22. Sent the picture to Apsley House, with a bill of the price, which, after mature consideration, I put at ;!^i26o, i.e., twelve hundred guineas. " May 23. Was told by Sir Willoughby Gordon that his Grace was satisfied to give twelve hundred guineas for the picture, and gave Sir W. leave to tell me so. " May 25. At the Duke's request, waited upon him at Apsley House, when he counted out the money to me in bank notes ; on receiving which I told his Grace that I 438 5//? DA VID WILKIE considered myself handsomely treated by him through- out." Wilkie, it seems, had adopted a sort of time-table arrange- ment by which to fix the price of his pictures. He valued his time as being worth ;^iooo a-year, and then pro- ceeded to charge according to the length of time each picture had taken. In August 1822 Wilkie was in Scotland, awaiting the anticipated arrival of George IV., with the intention of embodying some scene of this royal visit to Scotland in a picture. The entrance into the palace of Holyrood was fixed on by Wilkie as the particular incident of the royal visit to be commemorated on canvas. It gave Wilkie much trouble in limning " so many chiefs and nobles, who desired to look their loftiest." This picture is stiff and formal, and not considered worthy of the genius of Wilkie. During the royal visit Wilkie did not forget to collect materials for his John Knox, a picture which Lord Liver- pool had commissioned him to paint ; and in September ot 1824 Wilkie again went to Edinburgh for the same purpose. During his stay the artists of Edinburgh united to give a dinner in his honour. He writes about this dinner to his sister : — "Edinburgh, nth September 1824. " My dear Sister, — We had yesterday a royal feast. The artists of Edinburgh, to the number of seventeen, with Mr Nasmyth at their head, agreed to give me a dinner at the British Hotel, at which their cordiality and kindness was displayed in an eminent degree. Young Landseer was also invited, but Newton being away, was not there. We had, of course, a great many toasts and speeches ; S/Ji DA VID WILKIE 439 and, as in duty bound, I had to give them various screeds. Upon the whole, both in eating and drinking, which was of the first style, and what with the various addresses, rei)lies, and rejoinders, nothing could go off better. I do not know a circumstance more gratifying to me than this has been." On the death of Sir Henry Raeburn, in 1823, Wilkie was appointed limner to the king in Scotland. But Wilkie was doomed to feel the uncertainty of all things human. In 1824 trouble, sorrow, and sickness, as well as honours, public favours, and artists' welcomes, were in store for him. Wilkie was summoned back to London, by the news of his mother's illness, and, like Rubens, arrived too late to see her alive. His brother James too, only returned from Canada to follow his mother to the grave, leaving a widow and children almost entirely dependent upon Sir David for their support. The new year 1825 brought fresh sorrow. It had scarcely begun when Wilkie received the news of the death of his eldest brother, John, in India. He also left a widow and six children ; and his sister Helen, a happy and expectant bride, was fated to see the man she loved die by her side on the day before that on which they w^ere to have been united. In addition to all these woes came severe mcney difficulties, occasioned by the embarrassments of the times, but partly also by the obligations which Wilkie had incurred for his brother James, who left his affairs in a state of con- fusion. It is not to be wondered at, that amidst all this suffering his own health should have given way, and it was deemed advisable that he should abstain from severe labours, and seek the benefits of change of air and scene. Accompanied 440 S//? DA VID WILKIE by a friend and a relative, he set out in the summer of 1825 for Paris ; thence proceeded through Switzerland to Italy, where he remained eight months. He then visited many of the chief places in Germany, where galleries of art exist, and returned to Italy for another season. Wilkic remained in Rome for some time, and enjoyed the gaiety of the Carnival; but a new misfortune overtook him, the failure of Messrs Hurst and Robinson, the printsellers, who owed him a large sum at the time, on which he had relied to meet his expenses whilst unable to continue work. At this time Wilkie wrote to his brother : — ** In all these difficulties I feel no want of resource in my own mind. With anything like returning health I can contest the whole of them inch by inch." From Rome Wilkie proceeded to Naples, visiting Herculaneum and Pompeii; and again in 1826 he leaves Rome, and jiassing through Bologna, Parma, Padua, took up his abode for a short time at Venice. At Venice his favourite picture seems to have been the St Peter Martyr of Titian, a picture, alas ! no longer in existence. He visited it in all lights, with the sun shining on it, and in dim twilight, and says that the impression it produced was one of " awe and terror." From Venice Wilkie travelled to Munich and Dresden, and from thence to Prague and Vienna, and back again to Venice, Florence, and Rome. During this second visit to Italy his health began to revive, and he painted three pictures at Rome. From Italy he went through the south of France, and entered Spain in October 1827, and travelled to Madrid, where he painted the Spanish Council of War, and the Maid of Saragossa. Wilkie left Madrid in May 1828, and returned to London, after an absence of three years, spent in the pursuit S//? DAVID WILKIE 441 took of health, and of the much more arduous attainment — peace of mind. In the Exhibition of 1829 Wilkie had eight pictures. Four of these pictures were Italian subjects, three Spanish, and one, the Portrait of the Earl of Ke/liCy painted for the county hall of Cupar. Two of the Italian subjects — The Piffcrari and the Princess Doria^ and two of the Spanish — the Maid of Saragossa and the Guerilla Council of IVar, were bought by George IV. In January 1830 Sir Thomas Lawrence, president of the Royal Academy, died, and George IV. immediately appoin- ted Wilkie to one of the offices which that polite painter had filled, viz., that of painter-in-ordinary to the king. In the Exhibition of 1832 his full-length Portrait of William IV. was exhibited, as well as the John Knox, which had been painted for Sir Robert Peel. In 1836 he received the honour of knighthood from the hand of King William IV., and a short time after the accession of our present most gracious sovereign lady. Queen Victoria, Wilkie was summoned to the Court, then at Brighton, to paint the Queen^s First Council. '* Having been accustomed to see the Queen from a child," Wilkie says, " my reception had a little the a'r of an early acquaintance," but though the Queen was very gracious, poor Wilkie had considerable trouble in adjusting the claims of her council. Wilkie painted a great number of portraits during the latter years of his life, amongst others, his friend Edward Irving, and Daniel O'Connell. In the autumn of 1839 he went once more, and for the last time, to Scotland. The principal object of this visit 442 S//^ JDA VID WILKIE was to collect material for a picture of John Knox Adminis- tering the Sacrament at Calder House, but he lived not to paint it. His sketch for it was bought by the Scottish Academy for £^^^ at the sale of his works, which took place after his death. In 1840 he set out, with his friend Mr Woodburn, upon a tour to the east. They passed through Holland and Ger- many, visiting all the picture galleries on the way, and arrived in Constantinople, where he was detained several months in consequence of the war in Syria, where he made a great many sketches, and also painted a Portrait of the Young Sultan. " When AVilkie set foot on the Holy Land," says his biographer, " it was with the spiritual feelings of one familiar with his Bible from his youth, one on the eve of realising the Pilgrim's Avish of a long life, and about to people the hills, and vales, and streams of Judea with the fine creations of his own fancy, and the rich embodiments of Scriptural story." When asked by his friend Collins ** if he had any guide book with him for the journey?" he re^. jd, "Yes, and the very best ;" and produced from his travelling box a pocket-bible. " I never saw him again," adds Collins, *' but the Bible throughout Judea was, I am assured, his best and only guide book." " After a journey of six months and twelve days," writes Wilkie, in his jour, il, on the 27th of February 1841, '' we have at last reached the most interest- ing city in the world — Jerusalem. This struck me (on beholding it from the heights) as unlike all other cities ; It M i recalled the imaginations of Nicolas Poussin ; a city not for every day, not for the present, but for all time, as if built for an eternal Sabbath." 1 %'• S/J^ DA VI D WILKIE 443 : Adminis- 'ed not to le Scottish took place rn, upon a i and Ger- way, and ed several I he made 'rait of the " says his ne famihar )f realising people the e creations Scriptural e had any :d, " Yes, lling box a lins, "but s best and Dnths and e 27th of t interest- me (on cities ; It ity not for f built for Wilkie left Jerusalem, and arrived at Alexandria on the 26th of April 1 84 1, on his way back to England, where he was detained several weeks waiting for the steamer. Here he painted the Portrait of Mahemet Ali, the renowned pacha of Egypt. He had been slightly ill when the steamer was at Malta, but on the evening of the 31st of May he appeared on deck as usual, and seemed to have thrown off his illness ; but when the ship's surgeon went to visit him in his cabin on the following morning, he found his speech affected, and his pulse rapid. Various remedies) were tried, but he continued gradually sinking until about eleven o'clock, when he ex- pired without a struggle, ist June 1841. The steamer, which was in Gibraltar Bay at the time of his death, immediately put back to the town, but the authorities refused to allow the body to be landed, on account of quarantine regulations. So the ship's carpenter made a coffin, and at half-past eight o'clock in the evening, as the log book of the steamer records, the engines were stopped, and the body of Sir David Wilkie was committed to the deep. The news of Wilkie's death caused grief throughout England and Scotland, for he was the favourite painter of the people, and of the court. Wilkie was of tall stature, angular and bony, but rather stoopmg and emaciated. His head was of the round type, and his hair sandy. The ui)per part of his face broad, with cheek bones high ; eyes Jght and grey, and with an expres- sion severe and searching. His nose rounded and compact, with mouth spreading, but closing firmly. On the whole there was nothing pleasing or inviting in his aspect. I if ! 444 SIJ^ DA VID WILKIE Amongst his compeers he was marked by a kind of dry, cold humour, and judging from the anecdotes told of him, he would submit to be joked, and sometimes ventured upon a witticism or a repartee. It seems that the severity seen in his outward man produced only a simple seriousness and quietude within. The statue of him in the vestibule of the National Gallery resembles him more at the age of thirty than at that at which he died, fifty-six; but, on the whole, conveys a tolerably correct impression of his personal appearance. On the pedtstal of this statue is engraved the line — i i "A life too short for friendship, not for fame." i ' Intense and constant application made Wilkie a great j artist, but it ultimately caused his death, and twice during his lifetime rendered him incapable of either painting or writing, and at last terminated in softening of the brain. flj Wilkie attained high rank in his profession. His up- I right mind, his straightforward honesty, his enduring |l, friendships, his patient and determined study, were ';' fully appreciated, and show how deserving he was of |s; universal homage. " The recollections of all my intercourse with Wilkie," I' writes Leslie, " and I knew him for about twenty years, are altogether delightful. I had no reason ever to alter 1^ the opinion I fi'-st formed of him, that he was a truly ; great artist, and a truly good man." ii Turner has commemorated the event of Wilkie's death by ■\ \ a noble and characteristic picture, now in the National Gallery, called the Burial of Wilkie ; the deep gloom of „i A SIJi DA VID WILKIE 445 a, kind of :cIotes told sometimes seems that :ed only a i statue of resembles : which he . tolerably On the the funeral scene, rmid the shades of evening, may well be expressed in the lines of the poet— " Then saw they how there hove a dusky barge, Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern, Beneath them ; and descending they were 'ware That all the decks were dense with stately forms, Black-stoled, black-hooded, like a dream— and from them rose A cry that shiver'd to the tingling stars, And, as it were, one voice, an agony Of lamentation, like a wind, that shrills All night in a waste land, where no one comes. Or hath come, since the making of the world." e a great ice during r painting g of the His up- enduring dy, were e was of 1 Wilkie," nty years, : to alter s a truly death by National gloom of f :iir .« t n if ILLUSTRATED BOOKS PUBLISHED BY ANDREW ELLIOT, 17 PRINCES STREET EDINBURGH ♦ •» a SCOTTISH LANDSCAPE" THE WORKS OF HORATIO MACCULLOCH, R.S.A. With a Sketch of his Life by Alexander Eraser, R.S.A. Photographs by Thomas Annan, Glasgow. Zar^e Paper Copy, handsomely bound in half-morocco, gilt edges, 6v ^mall Paper Copy, handsomely bound in cloth, gilt edges . ofis. LIST OF Portrait of Horatio RIacculloch Cadzow Forest Dunstaffnage Castle A Mill on the Irvine RosLiN Castle Knock Castle "My Heart's in the Highlands" Lowland River LoCH-AN-ElLAN Mist on the Mountain PLATES Dunskye Castle Moonlight ON the Galloway Coast Loch Achkay Inverlochy Castle On Balerno Burn Ben Venue from the Silver Strand Glencoe Kilchurn Castle Deer Forest in Skve Loch Maree SELECTIONS FP.OM THE WORKS OF SIR GEORGE HARVEY, P.R.S.A. Reproduced by Photography by Thomas Annan. Letterpress Description by the Rev. A. L. Simpson, F.S.A, Scot. Handsomely bound in half-morocco. Large Paper, 63^., Small Paper, 42J. CONI Rab's Companions Covenanters' Preaching Covenanters' Baptism Drumclog Curlers Examination of a Village School Shakespeare before Sir Thomas Lucy A Castaway Incident in the Life of Napoleon A Highland Funeral ENTS A ScHi'LE Skailin' First Reading of thf. Ridlf. in the Crypt of Old St Pall's village Bowlers AuLD Langsyne (2 Pictures) Do. do. (2 Pictures) Quitting the Manse Sauhath in the Glkn liLowiNG Bubbles— The Past and the Present Rab's Grave mr 'ifHB^ ,'^ "l ^^ *™ ^ Now ready, handsomely bound in cloth, gilt, folio, price 52J. (id.\ PORTRAITS By sir henry RAEBURN, R.A. Photographed by Thomas Annan. With Biographical Sketches and | Contributions from Dr John Brown, the Archbishop of Canterbury, Dr Donaldson, Sir Henry Moncrieff, Miss Watson, and others. CONTENTS Sir Henry Raeburn, painted by himself, with Notice by John Brown, Esq., M.D. , Author of Rab and His Friends. Sir Henry Raebi;rn, from Medallion by Tassie. Sir Walter Scott (Painted in 1808) Do. do. (Painted in 1822) John Tait, of Harviestoun, and his Grandson Archibald Constable Dr Adam, Rector of High School Professor Robison Colonel Macdonell of Glengarry Dr Andrew Thomson John Home, Author ol Douglas iAMES Balfour, Esq., Advocate ,ORD Braxfield Mrs Hamilton, Authoress of The Cottagers 0/ Glenburnit Baron Hume The Earl'Of Hopf.toun Lord PREsfDENT Blair Francis Horner Dr Erskine DuGALD Stewart NeilGow Lord Newton Professor Pillans Sir David Baird, Bart. Lord Chief Bakon Dundas Tvtler of Woodhouselek Dr Nathaniel Spens Mrs Oswald of Auchencruive Lord Provost Elder Robert Svm (Timothy Tickler) Dr Hugh Blair Rev. Sir Henry Moncreiff, Bart. John Clerk, Lord Eldin Lord Murray John Archibald Murray ARTIS FARRAGO BEING SELECTIONS FROM THE WORKS OF W. MACDUFF With Poetical Extracts. The Initial Letters Engraved on Wood by J. Adam. In Quarto, Beautifully Printed and Bound, price 42J. Windsor— Sunrise Down in the Cottage A Spring Flower A Highland Burn The Village School A Plea for Ragged Schools The Passover Christmas Morning LIST OF SUBJECTS The Return The First Siesta in England A Tribute to Landseer's Genius A Country Auction The Laird o' Cockpen The Old Folks at Home The Solitary Perth— Sunset MOUNTAIN, LOCH, AND GLEN Illustrating "OUR LIFE IN THE HIGHLANDS" From Paintings executed expressly for this Work by Joseph Adam. With an Essay on the Highlands and Highlanders, by the late Rev. Norman Macleod, one of her Majesty's Chaplains. Folio. Handsomely Bound. £^, ^. for -^is. 6d. folio, price ^2s. 6d. r, R.A. iphical Sketches and \rchbiskop of R He\ry others. roPETOirN IT Blair RT .ANS !D, Bart. RON DUNDAS IDHOUSELEE Sl'ENS Auchencruive Elder mothy Tickler) ' MoNCREiFF, Bart. )RD Eldin 3 Murray GO F W. MACDUFF Engraved on price 42s. A IN England indseer's Genius 'ION :kpen VT Home D GLEN GHLANDS" yy Joseph Adam. ers, by the late Chaplains. )is. 6a.