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SOME ACCOUNT 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 RICHARD WILSON, Esq. R.A. 
 
 WITH 
 
 TESTIMONIES TO HIS GENIUS AND MEMORY, 
 
 AND 
 
 REMARKS ON HIS LANDSCAPES. 
 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED, 
 
 VARIOUS OBSERVATIONS RESPECTING THE PLEASURE AND ADVANTAGES TO BE 
 DERIVED FROM THE STUDY OF NATURE AND THE FINE ARTS. 
 
 COLLECTED AND ARRANGED 
 
 By T. WRIGHT, Esq. 
 
 O ! attend, 
 
 Whoe'er thou art; whom these delights can touch. 
 Whose candid bosom the refining love 
 Of Nature warms, 
 
 And I will guide thee to her favourite walks. 
 
 And teach thy solitude her voice to hear. 
 
 And point her loveliest features to thy view. Akekside. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR THE BENEFIT OF THE ARTISTS' BENEVOLENT FUND, 
 
 BY 
 
 LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, BROWN, AND GREEN, 
 
 PATERNOSTER-ROW. 
 
 1824. 
 
TO 
 
 Sir foster CUNLIFFE, Bart., 
 
 WHOSE REFINED TASTE AND SINGULAR SUAVITY OF MANNERS 
 BESPEAK NO LESS A CULTIVATED MIND 
 THAN A FRIENDLY AND BENEVOLENT HEART, 
 
 THIS HUMBLE TRIBUTE 
 TO THE GENIUS AND MEMORY OF 
 
 RICHARD WILSON, 
 
 IS 
 
 MOST RESPECTFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY 
 INSCRIBED 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Norwood Park, 
 April 6. 1824. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Should the remarks contained in the following pages be for- 
 tunate enough to attract the attention of any lover of the art, the 
 writer hopes that every allowance will be made for such errors and 
 imperfections as may be found in them. 
 
 The vanity of wishing to appear as an author will not be laid to 
 his charge, since his book is, avowedly, made up of the thoughts 
 and observations of others, much more than of his own. The first 
 and principal motive which influenced him in collecting and arrang- 
 ing the materials of which it is composed, arose, almost entirely, from 
 an anxious desire of rescuino; from oblivion whatever related either 
 to the life or the works of our much-neglected countryman. The 
 writer has in vain hoped that some abler pen would have undertaken 
 a task of a similar kind, and have left some substantial record con- 
 cerning so superior an artist; but as now nearly half a century has 
 elapsed since the period of Wilson's career, and as nothing imme- 
 diately relating either to his private life or professional pursuits has 
 been given to the world, (save some cursory notices of him, inter- 
 spersed in the works of writers upon other subjects,) the author is 
 emboldened to commit the following particulars to the press, under 
 the idea that he is performing a duty, in this attempt, to render that 
 justice which has been too long delayed to the merit of great and 
 ill-requited genius. 
 
viii PREFACE. 
 
 If he shall be found, in any degree, to have succeeded, and if he 
 may prove instrumental in drawing the attention of others to the 
 study of an art, which he does not scruple to declare constitutes one 
 of the first pleasures of his own life, the end which he has in view 
 will have been fully attained. 
 
 In the accomplishment of this object, he will, on the one hand, 
 have discharged some portion of that debt which he owes for the 
 gratification he has so constantly received from the productions of 
 our great painter ; and, on the other, he will feel the satisfaction of 
 having imparted to others a source of real and increasing enjoyment, 
 the value of which those only can justly appreciate who have expe- 
 rienced the singular delight that the contemplation of Nature, with 
 a view to the copying of her works, never fails to afford. 
 
 " To enjoy a prospect, or a picture," observes a late writer, " is 
 within the power of good sense ; but, like the science of music, its 
 utmost pleasure can only be reached by the artist and connoisseur." 
 
 " Quam multa vident pictores in umbris, et in eminentia, quae 
 nos non videmus !" * 
 
 * " How many admirable effects of light and shade, and other beautiful combinations, 
 are observed by the painter, which by others are either not seen or not regarded !" 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Birth and family of Wilson. — Goes to London. — Practises Portrait Painting. — 
 Visits Italy. — Is persuaded to take up I^andscape Painting. — Colomondie, the place 
 where he died. — Anecdote of him. — Village of Llanverris, or Loggerheads. — Ad- 
 vantage of sketching. — Pleasure to be derived from the study of Nature. — Personal 
 appearance of Wilson. _ > - _ _ Page 1 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Anecdotes of Wilson. — View from Richmond Hill. — Gilpin. — Wright of Derby. — 
 Cascade of Terni. — Hampstead Heath. — Figures in Wilson's Landscapes. — 
 Critics. — Remark of Sir Joshua Reynolds. — Reasons which induced Wilson to 
 repeat his subjects. — Unfair inference deduced from this circumstance. — The merit 
 of his Paintings not understood in his day. — Consequent neglect of the artist. - 17 
 
 CHAP. IIL 
 
 Momper. — His works studied by Wilson. — Gallery of Portraits at Florence. — Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds. — His sentiments respecting the study of Painting. — The Pictures 
 of Wilson addressed to the imagination, and intended to produce a pleasing effect upon 
 the mind. — The general effect, and the Picture considei'ed as a whole, his chief con- 
 cern. — His method of study while in Italy. — The principles of Landscape Painting, 
 as laid down by Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr. Alison. — Emotions of taste. — Train 
 of thought. — Imagination. — Unity of expression and character. — Simplicity. — 
 Wilson superior to Claude in exhibiting the more striking effects of Nature, and in the 
 use of accidents. — Comparison between Claude and Gaspar Poussin. - 39 
 
 a 
 
X 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Different accounts published respecting Wilson. — Supplement to Pilkington's Dictionary 
 of Painters and Engravers. — Carey's thoughts. — Architectural decorations. — Bryan's 
 Dictionary. — Jealousies existing among artists in Wilson's time. — Mr. Field. — 
 Apology for Wilson's deficiency in suavity of manners. — Comparison between Claude 
 and Wilson. - - - - - Page 61 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Pul)lication entitled " Wine and Walnuts." — Exhibition of Wilson's Pictures at the 
 British Institution. — Article in the Sun Newspaper. — Value of Figures in Landscape. 
 Wilson not always negligent in the management of his foregrounds. — Essential dif- 
 ference between his Pictures and those of Claude. — Comparison between Virgil and 
 Ovid. — Ince Castle. — Lady Ford's collection of Wilsons. — Dr. Walcott. — Picture 
 painted by Wilson for the late King. — Benevolence of his late Majesty. — His 
 patronage of the arts. — Portrait of W^ilson. - - - 85 
 
 PART II. 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 Pictures considered in a pecuniary point of view. — Those of Sir Joshua Reynolds fast 
 diminishing in number. — Superiority of British Artists, — Winkelmann. — Mon- 
 tescjuieu. — Destruction of Sir Joshua's Pictures by fire at Belvoir Castle. — The 
 Nativity. — Painted window at New College, Oxford. — Difficulty of copying the 
 Pictures of Sir Joshua and Wilson. — Opinions of West and Opie respecting colour- 
 ing. — Failure of that of Sir Joshua. — British Institution. — Sir Thomas Barnard. — 
 Defence of Sir Joshua Reynolds. — His method of colouring, and apology. — Laudable 
 instance of liberality in support of the arts. - - - 109 
 
 CHAP. IL 
 
 Patronage necessary to the Artist. — The fine arts matter of inconsiderable interest 
 with the public in Great Britain. — Want of encouragement in Historical Painting. 
 — Works relating to the fine arts little read. — Assistance of Government required in 
 support of the arts. — A pure taste a national benefit. — Progress of the arts the 
 measure of refinement in a state. — Their cultivation more an object of concern in 
 other countries. — Bonaparte. — France. — Russia. — Royal Academy. — British In- 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 xi 
 
 stitution. — Rapid advance of art in England notwithstanding the impediments ex- 
 perienced. — Expense attending a liberal patronage of the arts and artists by Govern- 
 ment a trifling consideration. — Unfortunate circumstances vi^hich have concurred to 
 
 prevent the interference of Government in support of the arts Mr. Fox. — Mr. 
 
 Pitt. — Mr. Perceval. — His present Majesty. — Sir John Leicester. — Mr. Fawkes. 
 
 — Mr. Cliarles Long. — Mr. Shee. — Sir George Beaumont. - Page 122 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Perfection in colouring difficult of attainment, — The English School superior to every 
 ot'iier, especially in that part of the art. — Also in both Painting and Sculpture. — 
 Mistake on this head with many of our countrymen travelling abroad. — Conse- 
 quent neglect of patronage at home. — Exhibition at Somerset House. — ■ Canova. — 
 
 — Chanti'v. — English Sculptors. — Subject of colouring resumed. — Loutherbourg. 
 
 — Du Fresnoy. — Anecdote of a German Painter. — Many persons incapable of dis- 
 tinguishing colours. — Remarkable instances of such deficiency. — Example in which 
 the faculty is possessed in an extraordinary degree. — A character, by Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds. — Excellence of his literary compositions. - - l^i 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 An eye for colour, and an ear for music, distinct faculties of the mind. — Many 
 requisites for producing a fine Picture. — Taste, Imagination, Execution, Judgment, 
 Memory, faculties each differing in their kind. — Erroneous observation of Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds. — Former systems of philosophy of the human mind. — Plurality of the 
 organs no new idea. — The size of the brain has a powerful influence on the mani- 
 festations of the mind. — Nothing new in such an idea. — Antique busts. — Phreno- 
 logy not a just subject of ridicule. — Nervous system. — A mistake to suppose that 
 Phrenology leads either to Materialism or Fatalism. — Fine Pictures cannot be too 
 highly esteemed. — Few persons capable of producing them. — Of the qualifications 
 necessary to form a Historical Painter. — Great Paintez's highly deserving of our 
 regard and veneration. — Ludicrous occurrence which happened to a Painter at 
 Vienna. - 164 
 
 PART III. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 Necessity of caution in sketching in a foreign country. — Adventure which befel the 
 Author while so engaged. — Scenery of Italy peculiarly interesting from the associ- 
 
-J CONTENTS. 
 
 ations connected with it. — Rome the best place of study for an Artist. — Art the chief 
 object of interest with all classes in that city. — Enthusiasm excited by the grandeur 
 of its antiquities and works of art — French Painters. — Gallery of the Louvre. — 
 Different method of study observable in the English and French students. — National 
 Gallery. - Page 189 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Curious occurrence that happened to the Author. — Pleasure afforded by a visit to 
 Rome. — Objects of study with a view to future enjoyment. — Virtuous employ- 
 ment the true source of happiness. — Advantage derived from the cultivation of 
 taste. — The callousness of some minds to the beauties of Nature. — Many persons 
 incapable of being happy under any circumstances, however prosperous. — Contem- 
 plation of Nature. — Necessity of keeping our thoughts usefully employed. — Mis- 
 fortune, sooner or later, the lot of all. — Advantages to be derived from the cultivation 
 of taste in the season of affliction. — True happiness of a retired nature. — The 
 pursuits recommended the best resources under all circumstances of life. — What- 
 ever purifies fortifies the heart. — The arts soften and refine. — Religion the insepar- 
 able companion of the love of Nature. - - _ _ 204 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Religious enthusiasm. — Methodists. — Rational religion. — Cheerfulness the com- 
 panion of the lover of Nature. — The Author's religion. — Difficulty of judging of 
 the feelings of others. — No happiness without tranquillity of mind. — Study of 
 Nature and Landscape Painting highly conducive thereto. — These pursuits never- 
 failing resources under calamity Example in proof. — Anecdote of the Duke of 
 
 Marlborough. — Pleasure and advantages to be derived from the study of Paint- 
 ing. _.. 223 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Amusement experienced while studying in the public Picture-Galleries abroad, — Hugh 
 Elliot, Esq. — The Three Graces. — British Ministers resident at foreign courts. — 
 Lord Henley. — Tweddel's Remains. — Duty of a biographer. — Vienna. — Anec- 
 dote of a German nobleman. — Picture-dealers. — Prince de Ligne. — Masque- 
 rades. — River Danube. — General Suwarrow. — Englishmen travelling on the Con- 
 tinent. - - 24'4' 
 
 Conclusion. 
 Appendix. 
 
 262 
 265 
 
TESTIMONIES 
 
 TO 
 
 THE GENIUS AND MEMORY 
 
 OF 
 
 RICHARD WILSON, Esg. R.A. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 BIRTH ANB FAMILY OF WILSON. GOES TO LONDON. PRACTISES PORTRAIT PAINTING. 
 
 VISITS ITALY. IS PERSUADED TO TAKE UP LANDSCAPE PAINTING. COLOMONDIEj 
 
 THE PLACE WHERE HE DIED. ANECDOTE OF HIM. VILLAGE OF LLANVERRIS, OR 
 
 LOGGERHEADS. ADVANTAGE OF SKETCHING. — PLEASURE TO BE DERIVED FROM THE 
 
 STUDY OF NATURE. — PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF WILSON. 
 
 This great landscape painter, the distinguished ornament of the 
 British school, was the third son of a clergyman in Montgomeryshire ; 
 his father was of a very respectable family in that county, in which 
 he possessed a small benefice, but was soon after the birth of our 
 artist collated to the living of Mould in Flintshire ; his mother was 
 of the family of Wynne of Leeswold. They had six sons and a 
 daughter, all of whom died unmarried. The eldest son obtained 
 a situation in Mould, as collector of customs, and died two years 
 after the painter. The second was a clergyman, who had good 
 preferment in Ireland. Richard, born in 1713, was the third. The 
 
 B 
 
2 WILSON GOES TO LONDON 
 
 Ibiiith was a tobacconist at Holywell ; he afterwards went to Penn- 
 sylvania, where he died. The youngest, when a little boy, was killed 
 by part of the Barley-hill, at Mould, falling upon him, whilst playing 
 under it. Miss Wilson was an attendant on Lady Sandown, a lady 
 of the bed-chamber to Queen Caroline, through whose means Richard 
 Wilson was introduced to the Royal Family. 
 
 It is not known that any of the family of Wilson had a taste for 
 painting except Richard, whose marked predilection for drawing 
 discovered itself when he was quite a child. At that early period, 
 he might be frequently seen tracing, with a burnt stick, figures upon 
 the wall. His relation. Sir George Wynne, took him to London, 
 where he was placed under the tuition of one Wright*, an obscure 
 painter of portraits. Wilson however acquired so much knowledge 
 \from his master, as to become equal to most of his contemporaries, 
 in that line of art. He must also have acquired a degree of rank in 
 his profession, as about the year 1748 he painted a large picture of 
 His late Majesty, when Prince of Wales, with his brother, the late 
 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 announced as in the collec- 
 tion of the Rev. Dr. Ascough, and is dated 1751. There is also a 
 half-length portrait of the late Marquis of Rockingham, painted by 
 Wilson, in Italy. It is in the style of Rembrandt, and belongs to 
 Lord Fitzwilliam, who brought it from his seat of Wentworth House 
 to his residence in Grosvenor Square, where it was at the time that 
 Mr. Edwards wrote his Anecdotes of Painters, who remarks, that " in 
 this picture Wilson made great use of asphaltum, throughout, to 
 produce the deep transparent tones 6f Rembrandt." 
 
 " As a portrait painter," continues this writer, " Wilson is not 
 
 ^ — 7, : : ~ 
 
 * Thomas Wright, an artist of whom Mr. Walpole takes not the least notice, nor does 
 any mention appear to be made of him, except what can be found in the inscriptions 
 under three prints by Gerard Vander Gutch, engraved after cartoons of Guido, " In the 
 collection of T. Wright, Painter, Covent Garden." 
 
Joseph 
 
 Verne T. 
 
VISITS ITALY. 3 
 
 sufficiently known, nor are his works marked by any traits which 
 distinguish them from the general manner which then prevailed 
 among his contemporaries. No decided character can therefore be 
 affixed to them. It may, however, be asserted, that in drawing a 
 head he was not excelled by any of the portrait painters of his time. 
 A proof of this was formerly in the possession of J. Richards, Esq. 
 one of the founders, and Secretary to the Royal Academy ; it is the 
 portrait of Admiral Smith, drawn before Wilson went abroad. It is 
 executed in black and white chalk, as large as life, upon brown 
 French paper, and is treated in a bold masterly manner ; but this is 
 not a work which can authorise the critic to consider him as superior 
 to the other portrait painters of his day."* 
 
 After having practised some time in London, he was enabled, by 
 the assistance of his relations, to travel into Italy, where he continued 
 the study of portrait painting, being still unacquainted with the 
 bias of his genius. He frequented good society, and was much re- 
 spected by his countrymen abroad. 
 
 Wilson, probably, might have remained ignorant of the peculiar 
 bent of his talents, but for the following circumstance : One day, 
 while waiting for the coming home of Zucarelli, upon whom he had 
 called at Venice, he made a sketch in oil from the window of the 
 apartment, with which that artist was so highly pleased, that he 
 strongly recommended him to apply himself to landscape paint- 
 ing. Another occurrence, which happened not long afterwards, 
 tended to confirm him in his inclination to follow that pursuit. The 
 celebrated French painter, Vernet, whose works, at that period, were 
 held in the highest estimation, happening one day, while both these 
 artists were studying at Rome, to visit Wilson's painting room, was 
 so struck with a landscape he had painted, that he requested to be- 
 come the possessor of it, offering in exchange one of his best pic- 
 tures ; the proposal was readily accepted, and the picture delivered 
 to Vernet, who, with a liberality as commendable as it is rare. 
 
 * Edwards's Anecdotes of Painters. 
 B 2 
 
4 
 
 RETURNS TO ENGLAND. 
 
 placed it in his exhibition room, and recommended the painter of it 
 to the particular attention of the cognoscenti, as well as to the English 
 nobility and gentry who happened to be visiting the city. " Don't 
 talk of my landscapes, when you have so clever a fellow in your coun- 
 tryman Wilson," was the observation of this liberal French artist. 
 
 Though there is reason to believe that Wilson had painted some 
 landscapes* before he went abroad, yet it is certain that he did not 
 commence a regular course in that study until after he had been 
 some time in Italy. When he began, however, he did not waste his 
 time, nor subjugate his powers to the unimproving drudgery of 
 copying pictures of the old masters, but contented himself with 
 making his observations upon their works, and afterwards confirming 
 those observations by his studies from nature. In consequence of 
 this prudent method of cultivating his talents, he wisely avoided any 
 decided imitation of the pictures of the Italian masters who preceded 
 him, and at once struck out a manner, both of execution and design, 
 which was classical, grand, and original. 
 
 Of the originality of his style we are convinced by inspecting his 
 works, and in most of them he has represented the general character 
 of Italy with more decided precision than can be found in the works 
 of his predecessors. His studies in landscape must have been at- 
 tended with rapid success, for it is well known that he had pupils in 
 that line, while at Rome, and his works were so much esteemed, that 
 Mengs painted his portrait, for which Wilson in return painted a 
 landscape. 
 
 He remained abroad six years, having left England in 1749, whi- 
 ther he returned in 1755. His residence in London, after his return, 
 was over the north arcade of the Piazza, Covent Garden. He after- 
 wards lived in Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square, and also in Great 
 Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, in apartments which have been 
 since occupied by Mr. Theed, the sculptor. Besides the above-men- 
 
 • There is a print, engraved by J. S. Miller, from a picture painted by R. Wilson, 
 a " View of Dover," without date, but generally supposed to have been executed before 
 he went abroad. 
 
I - _J f 
 
 I 
 
 I ? 
 j ^ r 
 
 t 
 
 A 
 
COLOMONDIE. 
 
 5 
 
 tioned, he is said to have had several other places of abode, following 
 his great instructress Nature into the fields, in Mary-la-Bonne, and 
 changing his quarters as often as his view was intercepted by the 
 erection of a new building, with more regard, perhaps, to his love of 
 landscape than to his pecuniary circumstances. At one period he re- 
 sided at the corner of Foley Place, Great Portland Street. His last 
 abode in London was at a mean house in Tottenham Street, Totten.- 
 ham Court Road, in which he occupied the first and second floors, 
 almost without furniture. 
 
 To the first Exhibition of 1760, in the Great Room at Spring 
 Gardens, he sent his picture of Niobe, which confirmed the reput- 
 ation he had previously gained as a landscape painter. It was bought 
 by William Duke of Cumberland, and came afterwards into the pos- 
 session of His Royal Highness the Duke of Gloucester. In 1765, 
 he exhibited, with other pictures, a " View of Rome, from the villa 
 Madama," or rather, perhaps, from the neighbourhood of the Monte 
 Mario ; a capital performance, which was purchased by the late 
 Marquis of Tavistock. 
 
 At the institution of the Royal Academy, Wilson was chosen one 
 of the founders ; and after the death of Hayman, he solicited the 
 situation of librarian, which he retained until he retired into Wales. 
 He appears to have possessed the powers of his mind when every 
 thinff else almost seemed to have failed him ; and " durino; the last 
 two years of his life," as Sir George Beaumont, who was well ac- 
 quainted with Wilson, very obligingly informs me, " a feeble flash 
 of what he once was would occasionally burst out, and his sound 
 and unerring principles produced a considerable effect. I have," 
 continues this gentleman, " a small picture done by him in this last 
 stage ; and although it is nearly void of form, and the trembling 
 hand, and failing eye, visible in every touch, yet still there is a ge- 
 neral effect, supported by breadth and hue, which a judicious imi- 
 tator might transform into a Wilson." 
 
 The last years of Wilson's life were passed with his brother in 
 Mould, and with his relation, the late Mrs. Catherine Jones, of Colo- 
 
Q LLANVERRIS, OR LOGGERHEADS. 
 
 mondie, near the village of Llanverris, now called Loggerheads, a 
 few miles from Mould. At the time of his residence in that neigh- 
 bourhood he had nearly lost his memory, and was reduced to a state 
 of childishness. Richard Lloyd, a servant living not many years 
 ao-o at Colomondie, attended him in his last moments : he at first 
 only complained of a cold, but upon retiring to bed almost imme- 
 diately expired. His remains are interred in the churchyard at 
 JNIould, near the north door of the church : a grave-stone has been 
 erected within these few years by Mrs. Garnons, upon which is the 
 following inscription ; viz. The Remains of Richard Wilson, Esq. 
 Member of the Royal Academy of Artists, interred May 15th, 1782, 
 Aged 69. 
 
 For the foregoing particulars I am chiefly indebted to Miss Gar- 
 nons, a lady residing at a short distance from Colomondie, by whose 
 polite attention they were furnished, at my particular request. 
 
 With a view, however, of obtaining some further account of this 
 celebrated artist, of whom so little appears to be generally known *, 
 I determined to visit the country which gave him birth, and to exa- 
 mine carefully the neighbourhood where Wilson not only passed his 
 early youth, but also a considerable portion of the latter period of 
 his life. I accordingly made a journey into that part of North 
 Wales, and after inspecting the neat-looking town of Mould, and 
 examining more particularly its interesting churchyard, arrived at 
 the small villao;e of Loo-oerheads. 
 
 This singular appellation owes its origin to the subject of the sign 
 painted by Wilson for the village ale-house, and upon which are 
 
 * In a work printed some years ago may be found the following observation respect- 
 ing Wilson ; viz. " It appears that this artist's youth was passed in an obscurity so great^ 
 that although he has now been dead little more than one fourth of a century, his early 
 history is already left to conjecture. Many have lamented that Reynolds had not an 
 abler master than Hudson; but we have no certainty that Wilson had ever any master; 
 nor have we any date to fix the commencement of his practice as a landscape painter. 
 Barry, with a warm heart, has panegyrised his independent spirit and his genius ; Fuseli, 
 with sounder criticism, has defined his great powers ; but neither have thrown a light upon 
 his professional career. Perhaps no country is so negligent of its fame as Britain." 
 
COLOMONDIE. 
 
 7 
 
 exhibited the heads of two very jolly-looking fellows, grinning and 
 staring out of the picture towards the spectator : underneath are 
 written, in very legible characters, the words, " We three Logger- 
 heads be." The painting retains its elevated situation to this day, 
 though, perhaps, little of the original colour may remain, it having 
 been more than once retouched since Wilson's time. The inn- 
 keeper, nevertheless, sets a high value upon this appendage to his 
 house, which, no doubt, has induced many a traveller, perhaps from 
 motives of curiosity alone, to step in, and try what sort of enter- 
 tainment might be found, notwithstanding the extraordinary mode 
 of salutation which greets him on his arrival at the door. 
 
 Adjoining to this very picturesque and interesting village^ which 
 within these few years enjoyed the tranquillity of a retired valley, 
 and through which runs a beautiful stream, is Colomondie, the ele- 
 gant seat of Miss Garnons, bequeathed to her by her aunt, Mrs. 
 Jones. This last-mentioned lady was a relation of Wilson ; and in 
 this house, erected upon an elevated and a most lovely situation, 
 our great artist closed his earthly career. 
 
 At Colomondie, an appellation derived from the Latin word 
 columba, a dove, Wilson spent the latter part of his days, after he 
 retired from London. Subsequently to that period, the house, to 
 which considerable additions have been made, has undergone a 
 thorough repair, and may be looked upon as one of the most elegant 
 villas in this part of the country, well worthy the attention of every 
 lover of the picturesque ; indeed, almost every object that a traveller 
 can desire to render a place delightful will be found in this most 
 enchanting domain, — wood, water, romantic rocks, verdant lawns, 
 and opening glades j all these various charms, whether in the dis- 
 tance or in the foreground, may be enjoyed with equal advantage, 
 the most commodious walks having been made for viewing their 
 several beauties. 
 
 Colomondie is laid out with much taste, and has been consider- 
 ably improved by plantations judiciously placed, which are now of 
 
8 
 
 COLOMONDIE. 
 
 some years' growth. The views from the house and its neighbour- 
 hood are singularly beautiful, and, as they are enriched with the 
 most agreeable variety and undulation of ground, afford very in- 
 viting subjects for the pencil. To the contemplative mind of an 
 artist, especially, the scenery of this place cannot fail to be heightened 
 by the pleasing, though melancholy associations it conveys; and cold- 
 hearted mortals must they be, who are not moved with the train of 
 thought which it must necessarily inspire. 
 
 " Ah ! who can tell how hard it is to climb 
 
 The steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar ; 
 Ah ! who can tell how many a soul sublime 
 Hath felt the influence of malignant star, 
 And waged with fortune an eternal war ; 
 Check'd by the scoflp of Pride, by Envy's frown, 
 
 And Poverty's unconquerable bar !" Beattie. ' 
 
 The old gardener of the place, Richard Lloyd, a man very far 
 advanced in years, remembered Wilson well, and was his attendant, 
 as he himself informed us, when he died. According to this man's 
 account, the finances of our artist, at the time of his decease, were 
 not so confined as has been reported, he having succeeded to some 
 property upon the death of his brother. It was in consequence of 
 this acquisition, and the declining state of his health, that he deter- 
 mined to remove from the metropolis, and spend the remainder of 
 his days in his native country. 
 
 At Colomondie I observed several of Wilson's pictures in an 
 unfinished state, with two or three merely in dead colour ; of one of 
 them the subject was the Atalanta, of which, as is well known, there 
 is an engraving ; also a small picture, a view of the rock and river in 
 the neighbourhood. These pictures were brought by Wilson, upon 
 his retiring from London. 
 
 At a little distance from the house, on either side of the road, 
 are two antient Scotch firs, extremely picturesque in their forms, said 
 to have been favourite trees of Wilson, and which he more than 
 
Drawn 'hj T. Vv-in ? . 
 
 EngrivtdTyW.Bromliy AE-^. 
 
 " fli/,yj.zS2!.J^U.!htdl>yW.WiMxr.Sl?riiyjInn Jfuare. 
 
( 
 
ANECDOTE OF WILSON. 
 
 9 
 
 once introduced into his compositions ; adjoining to them is a station 
 commanding a fine view of the rocks above Llanverris, much admired 
 bj him. 
 
 As every anecdote respecting so distinguished a character cannot 
 but be interesting, I shall mention a circumstance relating to him, as 
 I received it from Miss Garnons of Colomondie. In the grounds 
 belonging to this place, at some distance from the house, was a large 
 stone, to which Wilson, in the latter part of his life, often resorted, 
 it being a favourite seat with this great observer of nature. During 
 his rambles, it was frequently his custom to be attended by a New- 
 foundland dog ; and it so happpnfid, that one day, accompanied by 
 his faithful companion, the aged painter slipped from the stone 
 upon which he had been seated, and unable to recover himself, would, 
 in all likelihood, have perished on the spot, had not timely assistance 
 arrived. The sagacious animal, seeing the situation of his master, ran 
 howling to the house, and soliciting the attention of the servants 
 with significant looks, pulling at the same time the skirts of their 
 clothes with his teeth, directed them to the spot, and thus was the 
 means of rescuing his helpless master from a situation of considerable 
 danger. 
 
 In an upper room in the house at Colomondie, is the bed on which 
 Wilson breathed his last. In showing this apartment, old Richard 
 Lloyd related to us how some painter, upon being told of the cir- 
 cumstance, stretched himself upon the bed, in order that he might be 
 able to say, he had lain where this great artist had terminated his 
 life ; so deep was the veneration he entertained for this justly cele- 
 brated painter. 
 
 Colomondie is in Denbighshire, on the borders of Flintshire, and 
 not far removed from the turnpike road, leading from Chester to Ruthin, 
 which passes through the adjoining village of Llanverris, or, as it is now 
 almost universally called. Loggerheads. The rural simplicity and quiet 
 seclusion which this spot formerly enjoyed, have of late years under- 
 gone a very sensible change ; the road through it having become the 
 
 c 
 
jQ ADVANTAGE OF SKETCHING. 
 
 daily route of several stage-coaches and other vehicles, little consist- 
 ent with ideas of tranquillity and repose. In a commercial point of 
 view, this may be well ; but to the lover of the picturesque, travelling 
 for no other end than the search after enjoyment in the delightful 
 scenery with which this interesting country abounds, such objects 
 come upon him with an intrusion so discordant with the feelings of 
 his heart, that they produce a shock almost as violent and offensive 
 as that which the harsh sound of an instrument out of tune, in a full 
 orchestra, does to the ear of an intent connoisseur. 
 
 In passing through this neighbourhood on a former occasion, while 
 makino; a tour in North Wales. I had been much struck with its 
 surrounding scenery, and with the romantic beauty of this village, 
 without however at that time having the most distant idea, that cir- 
 cumstances of any material interest were connected with it, beyond 
 those presented to the eye in the picturesque accompaniments of the 
 place. So much indeed was my attention excited by the choice com- 
 bination which these afforded, that I very well remember having 
 ordered the carriage to stop, for the sole purpose of taking a sketch, 
 by way of having a memorandum of the spot ; a practice which will 
 be found the most useful and interesting, as enabling the tourist at 
 all times to retain a much more faithful and accurate recollection of 
 a place, than any written account, let the description of it be ever so 
 minute or circumstantial. Such a memorandum indeed, though exe- 
 cuted in the most slight or imperfect manner, sets at once before the 
 mind, as it were, not only the more striking features of the scenery, but 
 likewise the very persons who accompanied us, as well as every par- 
 ticular occurrence which took place at the time. So much does this 
 appear to be the fact, that I will even go further, and do not hesitate 
 to give it as my belief, that the impression made upon the imagina- 
 tion by the recollection of such particulars, thus brought into contem- 
 plation, is not unfrequently productive of a higher degree of interest 
 than that which even the realities themselves had excited. 
 
ADVANTAGE OF SKETCHING. 
 
 11 
 
 That this is actually the case, the writer has in numberless in- 
 stances experienced in a remarkable degree, even though many years 
 had elapsed from the time of making such memoranda. On the other 
 hand, it will be invariably found that notes and observations taken 
 with the pen, as the journal of the tourist is usually made, bear no 
 proportion in the interest which they create at any subsequent 
 period, to the pleasure and the accuracy of detail, which those made 
 with the pencil never fail to produce. 
 
 Having for a considerable number of years practised each of these 
 modes of making memoranda, the author is enabled to speak with a 
 greater degree of confidence on so important a subject. What, 
 indeed, is not of real and very substantial consequence too, may it be 
 demanded, which proves an addition, be it ever so small, to the little 
 sum of human happiness, or that tends to alleviate the anxieties and 
 the misfortunes of life, as this very innocent and amusing pastime, so 
 valuable and inviting to the lover of nature, most unquestionably is 
 able to do ? 
 
 " O Nature, how in every charm supreme ! 
 
 Whose votaries feast on raptures ever new ! 
 O for the voice and fire of seraphim, 
 To sing thy glories with devotion due !" Beattie. 
 
 There are few persons, perhaps, let their minds be ever so devoid 
 of sensibility or refinement, who, at least on some occasions, are not 
 led to the contemplation of serious thought, by the grand and striking 
 appearance which a fine extensive prospect affords ; or by the rich 
 painting of the clouds, when gilded by the setting sun, on a calm and 
 tranquil summer's evening ; for the love of nature is, in some degree, 
 inherent in us all, it 
 
 " Is an ingredient in the compound man, 
 Infused at the creation of the kind." Cowper. 
 
 The seeds of taste, indeed, are continually found to exist in minds, 
 in which it is impossible to trace them to any hand but that of nature. 
 
 c 2 
 
12 
 
 PLEASURE TO BE DERIVED FROM 
 
 " Ask the swain 
 Who journeys homeward from a summer day's 
 Long hibour, why, forgetful of his toils 
 And due repose, he loiters to behold 
 The sunshine gleaming, as thro' amber clouds, 
 O'er all the western sky ; full soon, I ween, 
 His rude expression and untutor'd airs. 
 Beyond the power of language, will unfold 
 
 The form of beauty smiling at his heart." Akenside. 
 
 The advantages, however, to be derived from the study of nature, 
 the power of catching and representing her loveliest features, and the 
 pleasure which never fails to accompany it, cannot be experienced, 
 except by due cultivation and studious attention ; and in this, as in 
 every other science, there is no " royal road" to attainment. 
 
 Let me, therefore, strongly recommend every one whose object in 
 travelling is to explore the beauties of nature, to be at the pains of 
 obtaining, at least, some slight degree of skill in this most agreeable 
 and interesting art. Thus furnished, he will find the pleasure of his 
 journey increased in a tenfold degree ; besides which, the recur- 
 rence, at some future period, to a series of memoranda so made, is 
 like travelling the country over again, with the additional advantage 
 of being exempted from the fatigue or inconvenience, which in his 
 journey he may perhaps have experienced. 
 
 Though the satisfaction arising from the contemplation of sketches 
 is certainly of the most interesting kind, there is another advantage 
 of still higher value, which necessarily follows the study of the art 
 here recommended, and which will be found to be continually 
 increasing, exactly in proportion to our attainments therein. By 
 drawing, we are not only enabled to carry away with us the very best 
 possible memorial of the scenery we admire, but the greater our 
 knowledge of, and the more extensive our acquaintance with, the 
 principles of landscape painting, the greater are the number of 
 beauties we are able to discover in the scenery before us ; which 
 develop themselves gradually, in precisely the degree in which we 
 have acquired the faculty to discover them ; such as effects of light 
 and shade, combinations of form and colour, contrasts, &c. 
 
GEOILGK MIE13EMCXHANJ)EL 
 
THE STUDY OF NATURE. 
 
 13 
 
 " It is true," observes a writer upon this subject, " other men may 
 see as well as a painter, but not with such eyes ; a man is taught to 
 see as well as to dance, and the beauties of nature open themselves 
 to our sight by little and little, after a long practice in the art of 
 seeing. A judicious well-instructed eye sees a wonderful beauty in 
 shapes and colours of the commonest things, and what are compara- 
 tively inconsiderable ; but the sky alone is capable of giving a 
 degree of pleasure sufficient to balance against a great many of the 
 inconveniences and miseries of life." 
 
 The person who has acquired a knowledge in this delightful art, 
 has this further advantage, he not only sees beauties in pictures and 
 drawings, which to common eyes are invisible ; he learns, by these, 
 to see such in nature, in the exquisite forms and colours, the fine 
 effects of light, shadows, and reflections, which in her are always to 
 be found, and from whence he has a pleasure which, otherwise, he 
 could never have had, and which none, with untaught eyes, can pos- 
 sibly discover ; he has a constant pleasure of this kind, even in things 
 the most familiar to us, so that what people usually look upon with 
 the utmost indifference, creates great delight in his mind. 
 
 The noblest works of Raffaelle, the most ravishing music of Han- 
 del, the masterly beauties of Milton, must be understood, before they 
 can be appreciated ; nor can the beautiful works of the great Author 
 of nature be fully discerned by uncultivated eyes. 
 
 We may, indeed, very fairly say of the beauties of nature, in as far 
 as relates to the education of the eye, if such an expression may be 
 allowed, what Sir Joshua Reynolds has said concerning those of art : 
 " I am clearly of opinion that a relish for the higher excellencies of 
 art, is an acquired taste, which no man ever possessed without long 
 cultivation, and great labour and attention." 
 
 Thus it evidently appears that these two separate studies of paint- 
 ing and of nature, are found mutually to contribute to the assistance 
 of each other ; and, at the same time, to empower their followers to 
 discern beauties in both, which, taken separately, they would be quite 
 incapable of discovering in either. 
 
14 
 
 PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF WILSON. 
 
 " Alterius sic 
 
 Altera poscit opem res, et conjurat amice."* Horace. 
 
 To return, however, to the subject we were considering, viz. the 
 interesting village of Llanverris. On the occasion alluded to, having 
 finished my sketch, I enquired of a countryman, who happened to 
 be passing at the time, the name of the village before us, and, as it 
 may be supposed, was somewhat surprised by his answering in a 
 broad, blunt tone of voice, and without the least apparent intention 
 of passing a joke, " Loggerheads." 
 
 Though aware that Welsh was the language then generally 
 spoken, the term seemed so remarkable, that I was induced to repeat 
 my question. Still, the answer was precisely the same ; I, therefore, 
 without further hesitation, inscribed at the foot of my drawing, not- 
 withstanding the oddity of such a title, in plain English, Logger- 
 heads ; nor did I, until a considerable time afterwards, find out the 
 real meaning of the word, always supposing that it must have been 
 some Welsh appellation, assimilating in sound with our own language, 
 and which at the time appeared a very curious and laughable coinci- 
 dence of terms. 
 
 Wilson appears to have been partial to his native country, and is 
 known to have declared that, in his opinion, the scenery of Wales 
 afforded every requisite for a landscape painter, whether in the sub- 
 lime, or in the pastoral representations of nature. In the possession 
 of Sir Watkin Williams Wynne, Bart., are several pictures painted 
 by Wilson, representing well known places in that country ; there 
 are also six views in Wales, engraved from paintings by him. 
 
 In person, Wilson was somewhat above the middle size, of robust 
 make, and rather corpulent, his head, at the same time, being large 
 in proportion to the rest of his figure. During the latter years of 
 his life, his face became red, and was covered with blotches ; he had 
 a remarkably large nose, and was much displeased if any one appeared 
 to observe it. This, perhaps, may be attributed, in a certain degree, 
 
 * «' But mutually they need each other's help." Roscommon. 
 
ri,/:/kr/„:f /.y .r. '>« , /!.i>n,/i,7r..\/:m-/t t.Tjofi . 
 
PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF WILSON. I5 - 
 
 to his fondness for a pot of porter, to which it was his custom not un- 
 frequently to resort, and which at all times he preferred to the more 
 expensive beverage of wine, even though it might be placed before 
 him. He wore a wig tied or plaited behind into a knocker or club, 
 and a triangular cocked hat, according to the costume of the time. 
 
 Depression and mortification, awakened by neglect, it may natur- 
 ally be supposed, could not fail to operate severely upon such a mind 
 as Wilson's, in which that sensibility so necessarily allied to a re- 
 finement of taste, must have predominated in a very high degree ; 
 the consequence of this was, that he became negligent of himself, 
 both in person and manners. Mr. Northcote's impression of 
 Wilson was, as the author has been credibly informed, " that his 
 mind was as refined and intelligent as his person and manners were 
 coarse and repulsive ; and that discernment and familiarity with him 
 were necessary to discover the unpolished jewel beneath its ferrugi- 
 nous coat." He appears, indeed, to have been much respected, and 
 highly esteemed by those who were acquainted with his real nature 
 and disposition. The late Mr. Stowers, of Charter-house Square, an 
 amateur pupil and companion of Wilson, is well known to have 
 entertained the very highest esteem for the man, no less than admira- 
 tion of his works. The present Mr. Stowers, who has obligingly 
 furnished this information, says, that he has often heard his father 
 affirm he regarded Wilson as a very honourable character, and de- 
 lighted much in his blunt honesty, and intelligence of conversation. 
 Mr. S. distinctly remembers, that his father often repeated con- 
 versations of his with Wilson, in which the painter would lament the 
 destiny which had denied him the initiation into some trade, or pro- 
 fession, in which he might have contributed that to the wants of 
 society, which would have supplied the comforts and enjoyments 
 of life to himself, instead of devoting him to an art which, while it 
 fosters the sensibilities of our nature, does not always secure to the 
 artist the remuneration of his anxious endeavours. 
 
 With such sentiments, nevertheless, prompted as they must too 
 surely have been by spleen and disappointment, there cannot re- 
 
16 
 
 HIS METHOD OF PAINTING. 
 
 main a doubt but that Wilson was influenced by motives of higher 
 consideration, since, notwithstanding his necessities, no hope of re- 
 wards could ever tempt him to forsake his art, or forego the con- 
 sciousness of meriting the approbation of his fellow minds. His 
 address, according to the report of one who was well acquainted with 
 him, was rather pleasing, and he made no mystery of his manner of 
 painting ; a liberality, it is to be feared, not always so conspicuous in 
 the conduct of the artist. His method appears to have been slow 
 and full of reflection, especially in finishing his pictures, frequently 
 receding from them, in order to consider more advantageously their 
 effect. 
 
J7 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 ANECDOTES OF WILSON. VIEW FROM RICHMOND HILL. GILPIN. WRIGHT OF DERBY. 
 
 CASCADE OF TERNI. HAMPSTEAD HEATH. FIGURES IN WILSON's LANDSCAPES. 
 
 CRITICS. REMARK OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. REASONS WHICH INDUCED WILSON 
 
 TO REPEAT HIS SUBJECTS. UNFAIR INFERENCE DEDUCED FROM THIS CIRCUMSTANCE. 
 
 THE MERIT OF HIS PAINTINGS NOT UNDERSTOOD IN HIS DAY. — CONSEQUENT NE- 
 GLECT OF THE ARTIST. 
 
 Mr. Price, in his very interesting work on the Picturesque, mentions 
 the following story relating to Wilson ; a singular trait, and which 
 evinces, in a high degree, how much the mind of this painter was 
 at all times bent upon the contemplation of his art, and how entirely 
 his view of nature was made subservient to it. " Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds," says Mr. Price, " told me that when he and Wilson the 
 landscape painter were looking at the view from Richmond terrace, 
 Wilson was pointing out some particular part, and in order to direct 
 his eye to it, ' There,' said he, ' near those houses, — there, where 
 the figures are.' ' Though a painter,' said Sir Joshua, ' I was puzzled ; 
 I thought he meant statues, and was looking upon the tops of the 
 houses, for I did not at first conceive that the men and women we 
 plainly saw walking about were, by him, only thouglit of as figures 
 in the landscape.'" 
 
 It is somewhat remarkable, that although the subject of which 
 Mr. Price treats so much at length has very frequently, as might be 
 expected, a reference to pictures, and especially to landscape paint- 
 ing, this should be the only instance in which he has introduced the 
 name of Wilson (that master of the picturesque) into his work, and 
 that, too, merely in a note at the foot of the page ! This observation 
 applies still more forcibly to Mr. Gilpin, the ingenious author of 
 essays, together with other publications relating to the subject of 
 art, and landscape scenery in particular, of which he appears to be 
 
 D 
 
WRIGHT OF DERBY. 
 
 an enthusiastic admirer, whether in nature or on canvass. The 
 author has in vain looked through the volumes of this writer for even 
 a hint at our countryman, Wilson. Upon the merits of Claude, they 
 both, with equal freedom, offer their sentiments, whether of censure 
 or applause, and the landscapes of Caspar, Titian, and Salvator, are 
 continually the subjects of their comparison with the scenery which 
 nature presents to their view ; while the sublime productions of Wil- 
 son seem either to have escaped their notice altogether, or to have 
 been deemed unworthy of their regard. To what, may it be asked, 
 are we to attribute this seeming neglect? The poet has told us : he 
 had not been " dead a hundred years." 
 
 In a small publication, printed at Manchester, entitled " Carey's 
 Thoughts," may be found the following anecdotes. " Wilson," says the 
 author, " was liberal to his brother artists, and reverenced the powers 
 of Wright of Derby highly, with whom he was intimate. The latter 
 artist estimated highly the abilities of Wilson, and whenever he was 
 in London, rarely failed to visit his great, but amicable rival. In 
 conversing familiarly one day, upon the subject of their art, Wright 
 proposed to exchange one of his pictures for one of Wilson's ; the 
 latter assented with the easy consciousness of his own particular 
 excellence, as distinguished from the particular excellence of his 
 friend; 'With all my heart, Wright, — I'll give you air, and you'll 
 give me fire.'' — It is known that in aerial effect Wilson considered 
 himself above every rival ; and the proposal of Wright may be sup- 
 posed to imply, on his part, an ingenuous acknowledgment of 
 Wilson's superiority in this particular. I have never heard that 
 Wilson imitated Wright, but we know that Wright, avowedly, imi- 
 tated Wilson ; and, in such instances, reached his glow and aerial effect 
 to admiration." In the publication last mentioned, it is also related, as 
 from unquestionable authority, that when Wilson was painting the 
 Ceyx and Alcyone, he consulted the broken surface, and rich hues of 
 a large decayed cheese, for ideas of form and colour. It is said, also, 
 that Gainsborough modelled a landscape of moss, clay, stones, pieces 
 of coal and tin, from which he fancied that he derived assistance. 
 
SALVATOE MOSA. 
 
i 
 
CASCADE OF TERNI. — HAMSTEAD HEATH. 
 
 19 
 
 A late traveller, in his description of the waterfall of Terni, in 
 Italy, mentions the following anecdote of Wilson. " The cascade," he 
 observes, " has often been described, but, perhaps, no description can 
 give a more lively idea of the impression which the first sight of it 
 makes upon the spectator, than the exclamation of Wilson the painter, 
 overheard by Sir Joshua Reynolds, who happened to be on the spot. 
 Wilson stood for a moment in speechless admiration, and then broke 
 out with, ' Well done water, by G — !"' * 
 
 One day, while Wilson was sketching on Hampstead Heath, at 
 rather a late hour in the afternoon, he was accosted by a couple of 
 fellows of very suspicious appearance, who, in a rough and threaten- 
 ing manner, asked him what he was about ; to this demand Wilson, 
 who had little doubt of their intention of robbing him, very coolly 
 replied, that he was making drawings for the support of his wife and 
 family. "And how much," demanded one of the men, " can you get 
 for such drawings ?" — " I sell them at a shilling a piece," answered 
 Wilson. — This reply, from a person having but a mean appearance, 
 and who, at the best of times, was but shabbily dressed, induced the 
 footpads to walk away, without further molestation. Thus, the 
 artist, by his presence of mind, and ingenuity, saved himself from 
 what might possibly, under other circumstances, have proved to him 
 a very serious affair. 
 
 Respecting the palette, and the process adopted by Wilson, some 
 particulars have been communicated to me by a friend, derived, as 
 he informs me, from a very authentic source. According to this 
 statement, the colours used by Wilson were white, Naples yellow, 
 vermilion, light ochre, brown ochre, dark or Roman ochre, lake, yel- 
 low lake, lamp black, Prussian blue, ultramarine, burnt terra di Sienna. 
 
 Wilson dead-coloured in a very broad simple manner, giving a 
 faint idea of the effect and colour intended, but without any very 
 bright light or strong dark ; quite flat, and no handling whatever ; 
 the shadows on the foreground thin and clear ; air tint prevailing. 
 
 * Diary of an Invalid. 
 D 2 
 
20 
 
 WILSON'S MODE OF PAINTING. 
 
 When perfectly dry, he went over it a second time, heightening 
 every part with colour, and deepening the shadows, but still brown, 
 free, loose, and flat, and left in a state for finishing ; the half tints laid 
 in, without high lights. The third time, he altered what was neces- 
 sary in the masses of tint, adding all the necessary sharpness and hand- 
 ling to the different objects, and then gave the finish to his picture. 
 
 His great care was to bring up all the parts of his picture to- 
 gether, and not to finish one part before another, so that his pic- 
 ture should not, as the painters term it, run away with him, and that 
 while working in one part, he should introduce that colour into other 
 parts where it suited, or to lower the tone fit to make it suit, that the 
 different parts might keep company with each other. 
 
 His air tint was blue, burnt ochre, and light red, sometimes a little 
 vermilion, and, in other cases, he made his air tint of the lakes and 
 blue ; with the lakes he made his glazing tints on the foreground 
 very rich and warm, and of their full force; but all this was mo- 
 derated by the tints which he laid on the glazings. If any part was 
 hard, he restored it by scumbling the air tint, suited to the distance 
 of the part, over it, and then added the finishing touches, and sharp- 
 ness, to prevent its being smoky or mealy. A magylph, or majellup, 
 of linseed oil and mastic varnish, in which the latter predominated, 
 was his usual vehicle, and an oyster-shell served him to contain it. 
 He dead-coloured with Prussian blue, but always finished the sky 
 and distance with ultramarine ; for it was his opinion that no other 
 blue could give the beautiful effect of air. 
 
 For the chief of the above particulars, respecting the colours 
 and the process used by Wilson, I stand indebted to my much valued 
 friend and fellow-traveller. Sir William Pilkington, Bart., a lover of 
 art, possessing at the same time refinement of taste and a practical 
 knowledge such as few amateurs can boast. To him they were 
 communicated by a gentleman who received them from the late Mr. 
 Farrington, a pupil of Wilson, — an authority not to be disputed. 
 
 On various occasions, Wilson did not scruple to take advantage 
 of the talents of Mortimer, and, sometimes, of Hayman, for the intro- 
 
FIGURES IN WILSON'S LANDCAPES. 
 
 21 
 
 duction of his figures. The pictures of Meleager and Atalanta, of 
 Apollo and the Seasons, and several others, furnish examples of this. 
 fThough such a practice, with a landscape painter, is by no means 
 unusual, I have nevertheless heard it asserted by some critics, judg- 
 ing no doubt from this circumstance, that Wilson was unequal to 
 this, so essential a part of his art, being, say they, (to use an expres- 
 sion at once the most general and sweeping,) a very indifferent 
 painter of figures ; and that, moreover, it was for this reason, that, in 
 his best pictures, we so often find them introduced by the hand of 
 some other artist. Now, although such has been the case, in various 
 instances, still, I will venture to maintain, that so far from this having 
 been a general practice with our artist, he, on the contrary, almost 
 always introduced the figures himself The greater part of Wilson'ig 
 pictures (and I have had opportunity of inspecting a vast number of 
 his works) bear ample testimony to this ; carrying, in the face of 
 them, if one may so say, the most evident proofs that these import- 
 ant additions were executed by the self-same hand as that by which 
 the rest of the picture had been painted. For, so judiciously are 
 they, as it were, fitted to, and so singularly in unison do they seem 
 to be with, the rest of the composition, that like the necessity of the 
 key-stone to the finish of the arch, their structure could scarcely 
 have been rendered so complete in any other way. 
 
 The true value of a figure in landscape, does not, as it is well 
 known, consist solely in the mere correctness of the drawing, the 
 justness of the action, or the propriety of the character in which it 
 may have been portrayed, but demands, in a well-ordered compo- 
 sition, considerations of much higher import ; and the necessity that 
 such an accompaniment be painted with an eye to the harmony and 
 general effect of the whole, must render it, at all times, an extremely 
 difficult matter for any one, except the painter of the landscape him- 
 self, to form a correct judgment as to its fitness and propriety in 
 these respects. 
 
 When we observe the very admirable manner in which the figures 
 in Wilson's landscapes are introduced, (perhaps no painter ever had 
 
22 
 
 FIGURES IN WILSON'S LANDSCAPES. 
 
 a superior judgment in this particular,) and how much they tend, 
 almost invariably, to heighten and set off the effect of the whole, 
 forming, as they generally do, a part, and that often a very essential 
 part, of the composition itself, we shall have the greatest reason to 
 conclude that they must have been, with the exception of some few, 
 the production of no one but the artist himself ; possessed, as he 
 must have been, of a far greater degree of feeling for the subject of 
 his own individual choice, and a much larger share of scientific 
 knowledge relating thereto, than could possibly be found in any other 
 person ; for in his own individual mind alone must have been pre- 
 viously formed each separate member of the scene, whether relating 
 to the primary arrangement, or to the completion of that machinery 
 which his own imagination had conceived. 
 
 From the above considerations, it must follow, that no other 
 painter could possess similar qualifications, which belong exclusively 
 to the inventor of the design, and without which it is scarcely pos- 
 sible that there should be " that union between the conceptions of 
 the mind and the operations of the hand, which," as Mr. Payne 
 Knight observes, " constitutes superior merit." * 
 
 Those acquainted with the art, know perfectly well of what im- 
 portance the smallest piece of local colour is, when judiciously in- 
 troduced into the drapery of a figure or other accompaniment, and 
 how much the whole tone and appearance, even of the picture, may be 
 changed by so apparently trifling a matter ; in which particular part, 
 however, or in what peculiar manner this may be done with the 
 greatest effect and advantage to the whole, it is the discriminating 
 eye, and the fine feeling of the experienced artist alone, which can, 
 with any degree of certainty, determine. 
 
 That the great masters of former times did frequently avail 
 themselves of the aid of others, for the insertion of figures into their 
 landscapes, there cannot be a doubt ; this, the pictures of Wynants, 
 Hobbima, Artois, and many others, sufficiently testify : such a circum- 
 
 * Analyticaf Inquiry into the Principles of Taste, by R. P. Knight. 
 
./ ; 
 
FIGURES IN WILSON'S LANDSCAPES. 
 
 23 
 
 stance, however, cannot be any argument against the opinion ad- 
 vanced ; many of these painters having been, it is well known, in- 
 capable themselves of introducing the figures required; while it 
 appears to me, that in scarcely any of their pictures do these objects, 
 however excellent and appropriate they may be, form so decided, 
 and at the same time so materially connecting a feature, either in 
 relation to the tone of colour, the chiaro-oscuro, or the composition, 
 altogether, as they do, almost universally, in the productions of our 
 countryman. 
 
 If, therefore, Wilson did sometimes allow the introduction of a 
 group by a strange hand, we can have no ground for supposing that 
 this arose from deficiency on his part, more particularly as we know 
 him to have gone through the regular study of the academy figure, 
 and to have prepared himself, at his first setting out, for the pursuit 
 of figure painting only ; and in his best and more finished produc- 
 tions, sufficient examples are not wanting, to prove most satisfac- 
 torily, that he was perfectly able, not only to colour, but to draw, in 
 a manner the most correct, these interesting accompaniments ; as 
 several of the pictures by him, in my own collection, bear evident 
 proof, the different groups of figures with which they are embel- 
 lished being unobjectionable, considered in every point of view. 
 
 It must, however, be confessed, that in some instances, and more 
 particularly in those pictures painted during the latter period of his 
 life, and which appear to have been done hastily, there may be 
 observed an indecision and incorrectness in the drawing of the 
 figures, offensive to the eye of cold criticism ; but this has been, in 
 by far the greater number of instances, so amply compensated by the 
 other excellencies, which these accompaniments are almost always 
 found to possess, the nature and value of which the writer has en- 
 deavoured to point out, that no one, bringing with him a mind un- 
 biassed by prejudice, can for a single moment suffer his enjoyment 
 to be disturbed, by considerations of a nature so very trivial and 
 subordinate. 
 
 To quarrel with Wilson's pictures because we cannot discover in 
 
24 CRITICS. 
 
 them that perfection which never yet was found in the productions 
 of man, is, surely, most unreasonable and absurd. " 'J'here never 
 was," as it has been well observed by a very intelligent writer, " a 
 picture in the world without some faults, and very rarely is there 
 one to be found, which is not notoriously defective in some of the 
 parts of painting. In judging of its goodness as a connoisseur, one 
 should pronounce it such, in proportion to the number of good qua- 
 lities it has, and their degrees of goodness. I will add, as a philo- 
 sopher, one should consider the excellence we see, and enjoy that) 
 as being all belonging to it ; no more regretting what it has not, or 
 thinking of it, so as to diminish our pleasure in that it has, than we 
 do the want of taste in a rose, speech in a picture of Van Dyk, 
 or life in one of Raffaelle." 
 
 Unfortunately, however, for the artist, the generality of spectators 
 are oftentimes more disposed to look out for faults than for excel- 
 lencies, in their examination of his work, and do not hesitate very 
 frequently to set down, as almost unworthy of their regard, many a 
 valuable production of art, abounding, perhaps, with beauties of the 
 very first order, because, forsooth, there may have been some error 
 or deficiency in one particular part; a part, too, not unlikely, in the 
 opinion of the artist himself, of very inferior moment, his performance 
 considered as a n'hole, in which point of view alone, let it be remem- 
 bered, every judicious observer will, according to Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds, consider its chief merit to consist. 
 
 The words of this able instructor cannot be too often repeated, 
 and no where can they be more strictly applicable, than to the pro- 
 ductions of the master whose works we are considering ; I may, 
 therefore, be induced, on more occasions than one, to take advantage 
 of authority so conclusive, and now so universally received. 
 
 For besides the fault above mentioned, other charges (which upon 
 examination, however, will be found to stand upon no better grounds,) 
 have been brought against our arcist ; every one of which, according 
 to my humble opinion, will very quickly be seen to vanish from 
 before us, provided always, that they be suffered to obtain a fair and 
 
CRITICS. 
 
 25 
 
 candid examination, agreeable to the rules and the principles which 
 this great man has laid down. 
 
 " The skill of the genuine landscape painter," says Sir Joshua, in 
 his lectures to the students of the Royal Academy, " will be dis- 
 played in showing the general effect, and that genius which consists in 
 the power of expressing that which employs his pencil, as a whole, 
 so that the power of the whole may take possession of the mind, and? 
 for a while, suspend the consideration of the subordinate beauties or 
 defects." 
 
 But the misfortune is, as has been remarked, there are persons 
 who, instead of giving themselves up to the enjoyment which the 
 picture, if considered as a whole, would most probably afford, do 
 often in their anxiety to exhibit some fancied acuteness and critical 
 acumen, which they are desirous of being thought to possess, destroy 
 at once all such agreeable feelings ; and pouncing, as it were, upon 
 some poor unlucky figure, or other subordinate appendage, they not 
 unfrequently condemn, without mercy, the whole performance. 
 
 The sentiments of an author in a recent publication, although 
 upon a different subject, are equally applicable to the art we are 
 considering, as they may, indeed, be said to be to the works of any 
 art whatever. " I am willing to admit," observes this judicious 
 writer, " that a real blemish may be found in the finest passages, as 
 a speckle may be found in the finest face ; and I am aware that it is 
 those blemishes that give critics and abstract reasoners an oppor- 
 tunity of arguing with such speciousness against the beauty of some 
 of the finest passages in writing. But it is futile, and beneath the 
 dignity of true criticism, to catch at these minor faults ; for, as Dryden 
 happily expresses it, 
 
 ' Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow ; 
 He who would search for pearls must dive below.' "* 
 
 Respecting this class of connoisseurs, who are to be found on all 
 sides, an observation so much in point lately occurred to the author's 
 
 * A Critical Dissertation on the Nature and Principles of Taste, by M. Mc Dermott, 
 1822. 
 
 £ 
 
25 CRITICS. 
 
 notice, that he cannot resist laying it before the reader, as a confirm- 
 ation of the opinion which has been delivered. " I have observed," 
 says Mr. Webb, in the preface to his Inquiry into the Beauties of 
 Painting, " many to look at pictures, with no other view than to 
 show their acuteness in detecting little errors in drawing, or lapses of 
 the pencil ; these do not study painting to become knowing, but to 
 appear so. But let them reflect, that there is more true taste in 
 drawing forth one latent beauty, than in observing a hundred obvious 
 imperfections ; the first proves that our spirit co-operates with that 
 of the artist ; the second shows nothing more than that we have 
 eyes, and that we use them to little purpose."* Now a true and 
 genuine taste manifests itself in quite a different manner ; and " it 
 is particularly worthy of observation," as one of the most learned 
 writers of the day has remarked, " that it is always more strongly 
 disposed to the enjoyment of beauties^ than to the detection of 
 blemishes. It is indeed by a quick and lively perception of the former, 
 accompanied with a spirit of candour and indulgence towards the 
 latter, that its existence in the mind of any individual is most un- 
 questionably marked. It is this perception which can alone evince 
 that sensibility of temperament, of which a certain proportion, al- 
 though it does not itself constitute taste, is nevertheless the first, and 
 most essential element in its composition ; while it evinces, at the 
 same time, those liabits of critical observation and cool reflection, 
 which allowing no impression, how slight soever, to pass unnoticed, 
 seem to awaken a new sense of beauty, and to create that delicacy of 
 feeling which they only disclose. 
 
 " While this cultivated sensibility," continues the same philoso- 
 phic observer of the human mind, " enlarges so widely to the man who 
 possesses it the pleasures of taste, it has a tendency, wherever it is 
 gratified and delighted in a high degree, to avert his critical eye 
 from blemishes and imperfections ; not because he is unable to re- 
 mark them, but because he can appreciate the merits by which they 
 
 * Inquiry into the Beauties of Painting, by Daniel Webb, Esq. 
 
/ 
 
DTOAiT) STEWART. £SQ F. R s s LOKDON .1 EDINDl-ROH S.c .S:C 
 
 .-ISHER. SOB *C?I.0H3n;, s- 
 
CRITICS. 27 
 
 are redeemed, and loves to enjoy the beauties in which they are lost. 
 A taste thus awake to the beautiful, seizes on every touch of genius 
 with the sympathy of kindred affection, and in the secret conscious- 
 ness of a congenial inspiration, shares, in some measure, the triumph 
 of the artist. The faults which have escaped him it views with the 
 partiality of friendship, and willingly abandons the censorial office 
 to those who exult in the errors of superior minds as their appropri- 
 ate and easy prey."* 
 
 Could the like liberal sentiments, and the same generous feelings, 
 be allowed to influence the minds as well as the hearts of our con- 
 noisseurs, in their examination of Wilson's pictures, we should hear 
 not one word more about such trifling drawbacks to the capability 
 and the excellence of our artist. 
 
 There is, however, another class of critics of a much more good- 
 natured sort, who, instead of seeking to attract notice by their dis- 
 covery of blemishes, take the opposite side, and are for ever lavish 
 of, and extravagant in, their praise. The motive, in both, is nearly 
 the same, their remarks being equally prompted by the desire of 
 exhibiting that acuteness of discernment of which they would have 
 it believed they stand pre-eminently possessed. These, in their ex- 
 traordinary anxiety to attribute every kind of excellence to some 
 favourite artist, will often discover numberless beauties belonging to 
 his work, and give him credit for ideas and intentions in the execu- 
 tion of it, not one of which, very probably, ever entered his head. 
 Such observations are oftentimes amusing enough, and are, every 
 now and then, carried to an almost ridiculous extent. 
 
 The wonderful flippancy with which these connoisseurs run 
 through the whole vocabulary of taste, invention, design, claro-oscuro, 
 &c. is quite surprising, and upon which they talk with the same ease as 
 smooth stones, which children call ducks and drakes, skim the surface 
 of the water without entering the mass. They argue, it is true, 
 with very considerable warmth, but without attempting to encroach 
 
 * Philosophical Essays, by Dugald Stewart. 
 E 2 
 
28 
 
 REYNOLDS'S STRICTURES 
 
 on the province of reason ; sprightliness and animation fill up the 
 void of sense ; and the quickness of transition from one department 
 of the art to another, abundantly supplies, in at least their own esti- 
 mation, the want of connection in any. Such critics are ever anxi- 
 ous to describe, not so much what they see or feel, as what they 
 think may best become their pretensions to discover, and their elo- 
 quence to express. 
 
 An example of this kind of cleverness is mentioned in the work 
 of a late writer, who, in speaking of the celebrated picture of St. 
 Pietro Martire, by Titian, remarks, that " the large trees which are 
 here introduced are plainly distinguished from each other by the dif- 
 ferent manner with which the branches shoot from their trunks, as 
 well as by their different foliage ; and the weeds, in the foreground, 
 are varied in the same manner, just as much as variety requires, and 
 no more. When Algarotti, speaking of this picture, praises it for 
 the minute discrimination of the leaves and plants, even, as he says, 
 to excite the admiration of a botanist, his intention was, undoubtedly, 
 to give praise, even at the expense of truth ; for he must have 
 known that this is not the character of the picture : but connoisseurs 
 will always find in pictures what they think they ought to find ; he 
 was not aware that he was giving a description injurious to the repu- 
 tation of Titian."* 
 
 There are, however, other observations respecting certain figures 
 introduced by Wilson, which demand a more attentive consideration, 
 they having been animadverted upon by an authority which carries with 
 it too much weight, not to have a material influence upon the minds 
 of those who happen to peruse them ; so long, at least, as they remain 
 unacquainted with the peculiar circumstances by which, as we are 
 led to believe, they have in some degree been unfortunately sug- 
 gested. The author alludes to the strictures passed upon Wilson's 
 picture of Niobe, by Sir Joshua Reynolds, in his fourteenth discourse 
 to the Royal Academy. 
 
 * Life of Raphael Da Urbino, by the author of the Life of Michael Angelo. 
 
ON WILSON'S NIOBE. 
 
 29 
 
 In Mr. Edwards's Anecdotes of Painters, this subject appears to 
 have been handled with much judgment and impartiality ; indeed the 
 more we enquire into the history, and the circumstances connected 
 with the career of this unfortunate artist, the more reason we find for 
 thinking him to have been hardly used ; and are, consequently, dis- 
 posed to commiserate, rather than to blame, the imperfections to 
 which, it cannot be denied, his behaviour, especially during the latter 
 period of his life, appears to have been in some degree liable. 
 
 That Sir Joshua and Wilson were not upon amicable terms, is a 
 circumstance too generally known to admit of a doubt ; but that a 
 person with the kind feeling and the liberal sentiments which the 
 President is known to have possessed, should, intentionally, wound 
 the reputation of a brother artist, and especially of one who was laid 
 in his grave, is what we can scarcely bring ourselves to believe. As 
 it is the writer's intention to revert to this subject at a subsequent 
 period, we will, for the present, wave any further consideration of it, 
 and proceed to the question immediately before us. 
 
 " We will take notice," says Mr. Edwards, " of a censure which has 
 been passed upon one of Wilson's principal works, by an artist whose 
 abilities and reputation command respect, though they cannot enforce 
 our implicit assent to his opinion ; I mean Sir Joshua Reynolds, who, 
 in one of his discourses, passed some strictures upon Wilson's picture 
 of Niobe, which did not coincide with the sentiments of those who 
 then heard or who since perused them. 
 
 " But in order to judge how far those strictures were just or other- 
 wise, and whether the disapprobation with which they were received 
 was or was not well founded, they are here presented to the reader. 
 
 " ' Our ingenious academician, Wilson, has, I fear, been guilty, 
 like many of his predecessors, of introducing gods and goddesses, ideal 
 beings, into scenes which were by no means prepared to receive such 
 personages. His landscapes were in reality too near common nature 
 to admit supernatural objects. In consequence of this mistake, in a 
 very admirable picture of a storm, which I have seen of his hand, 
 many figures are introduced in the foreground, some in apparent dis- 
 
30 
 
 REYNOLDS'S STRICTURES 
 
 tress, and some struck dead, as a spectator would naturally suppose, 
 by the lightning, had not the painter injudiciously (as I think) 
 rather chosen that their death should be imputed to a little Apollo, 
 who appears in the sky with his bent bow, and that those figures 
 should be considered as the children of Niobe. 
 
 " 'To manage a subject of this kind, a peculiar style of art is re- 
 quired, and it can only be done without impropriety, or even without 
 ridicule, when we adapt the character of the landscape, and that too 
 in all its parts, to the historical or poetical representation. 
 
 " 'This is a very difficult adventure, and it requires a mind thrown 
 back two thousand years, and, as it were, naturalised in antiquity, like 
 that of Nicolo Poussin, to achieve it. 
 
 " 'In the picture alluded to, the first idea that presents itself is 
 that of wonder, in seeing a figure in so uncommon a situation as that 
 in which the Apollo is placed, for the clouds on which he kneels 
 have not the appearance of being able to support him ; they have 
 neither the substance nor the form fit for the receptacle of a human 
 figure, and they do not possess in any respect that romantic character 
 which is appropriated to such a subject, and which alone can har- 
 monise with poetical stories.' 
 
 " Sir Joshua then observes, that ' the Dutch and Flemish style of 
 landscape, not even excepting those of Rubens, is unfit for poetical 
 subjects ; but to explain in what this inaptitude consists, or to point 
 out all the circumstances that give nobleness, grandeur, and the 
 poetic character to style in landscape, would require a long discourse 
 of itself, and the end would be then, perhaps, but imperfectly 
 attained.' * 
 
 " Though we may allow the foregoing observations," says 
 Mr. Edwards, " to be perfectly just when taken in a general sense, 
 yet when they are applied to Wilson's picture of Niobe in pajiicula?', 
 they certainly must be considered as forced, and as the eflfect of petu- 
 lant pique, rather than the correction of just criticism. 
 
 * This discourse was delivered December 10th, 1788, soon after the death of Gains- 
 borough, and was the last but one delivered by the President. 
 
I 
 
ON WILSON'S NIOBE. 
 
 31 
 
 " This assertion is justified by the following inaccuracy. It is 
 asserted, that Wilson's pictures are * too near common nature to 
 admit supernatural objects but the question here does not concern 
 his other pictures, but relates to that of Niobe only, and, consequently, 
 whatever improprieties may be selected from his other works, they 
 cannot warrant a charge against this picture in particular. 
 
 " But to form a just estimate of the work in question, we should 
 first consider the species of objects of which the landscape is composed, 
 whether they be or be not appropriate to the subject of the picture ; 
 and upon such examination it may certainly be allowed, that they 
 all are of that kind which can only be selected from what are uni- 
 versally considered as the grandest, and most classical features in 
 nature. But if the fastidious critic is displeased with these, which 
 have been selected by Wilson, let him suppose his mind to be ' thrown 
 back two thousand years, and as it were naturalised in antiquity,' 
 what objects would then be selected from nature by his imagination, 
 which differ from her productions in the present day ? The natural 
 materials of landscape have been the same in all ages. The only 
 difference which characterises antiquity originates in the works of 
 art, and if these had been introduced as antique features, they would 
 certainly have counteracted the simplicity and grandeur of the pic- 
 ture as it now stands. 
 
 " Sir Joshua next observes, that ' the figure of Apollo is placed in 
 an uncommon situation, the clouds on which he kneels not having 
 the appearance of being able to support him.' By this remark it 
 seems that Sir Joshua did not recollect the picture*, or examine the 
 print, when he wrote his critique, for the figure in question is by no 
 means so disposed as to give the spectator any idea of pain from its 
 want of support ; and the size is perfectly suited to its place, or re- 
 presentation upon the picture, as the appearance of the cloud is fully 
 
 * It is very possible that Sir Joshua formed his critique upon that picture of the 
 subject which was first painted by Wilson, and is now in the possession of Sir George 
 Beaumont, Bart., from which a print was engraved by S. Smith, who was a pupil of 
 Mr. Woollet. 
 
32 REASONS WHICH INDUCED WILSON 
 
 equal to the weight which it is supposed to sustain ; and, indeed, 
 the figure appears to be floating upon that species of cloud, which 
 is often seen rolling along in a thunder-storm, near the surface of the 
 earth, while the rest of the atmosphere is loaded, and uniformly ob- 
 scured, by those dark and heavy vapours that occasion the storm. 
 
 " The severity of Sir Joshua, as before remarked, was in some 
 degree attributed to private pique, and not without reason, for Sir 
 Joshua and Wilson were often observed to treat each other, if not 
 with rudeness, at least with acrimony. 
 
 " Mr. Wilson left many excellent drawings and sketches, which 
 are mostly executed in black and white chalk, upon blue-grey Ro- 
 man paper ; they are generally distinguished by his mark." * 
 
 Besides the introduction of figures into his pictures by a dif- 
 ferent hand, Wilson had frequently recourse to an expedient which 
 has, by some persons, been very much found fault with, and attri- 
 buted, under the most erroneous idea, to a deficiency in his powers 
 of invention. I allude to the frequent repetition, by himself, of the 
 same subject or view ; and which, in some instances, he has copied, 
 with scarcely any variation whatever. 
 
 Although a similar practice is by no means uncommon with 
 other masters, as well as with Wilson, and which the pictures of Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds abundantly testify, I have, nevertheless, seen it 
 remarked, that when our artist " drew upon the stock of his own 
 ideas," such, or nearly, is the expression, " he manifested great po- 
 verty of invention, being very often under the necessity of repeating 
 himself" 
 
 Now the circumstance which induced Wilson to take advantage 
 of this un-artist like expedient, was altogether of a different nature 
 from that which has been so inconsiderately attributed to him. What 
 will these profound critics say, when they are informed, that it was 
 necessity, dire necessity alone, which drove our unfortunate artist 
 to this lamentable expedient ; a resource, at least to the extent to 
 
 * Edwards's Anecdotes. 
 
TO REPEAT HIS SUBJECTS. 
 
 33 
 
 which he, not unfrequently, was compelled to carry it, more befit- 
 ting the hand of the mechanic, than a sublime genius like his ; a 
 species of drudgery, indeed, which, to a vigorous and fertile imagin- 
 ation, such as he unquestionably possessed, must have proved a 
 task at once the most ungracious and irksome, that can well be 
 conceived. 
 
 It will be seen in the following pages, with what extreme dif- 
 ficulty Wilson was able, at any time, to find a purchaser of his works ; 
 and to what miserable shifts, on numberless occasions, he was driven 
 to get even the most trifling remuneration for his labours ; for at such 
 a low ebb was the taste of the day, that artists of very inferior merit, 
 compared with him, engrossed almost the exclusive attention and 
 patronage of the public; and it was only now and then that any 
 person could be found daring enough to buy a production from his 
 inimitable hand. 
 
 When, therefore, such an event did occur, we cannot be surprised 
 that the painter should determine to make the most of it, and, by 
 repeating the subject over and over again, so long as by its sale even 
 a scanty pittance could be obtained, to turn it to the most profitable 
 account. Such a picture, he, in his own homely phrase, was wont to 
 denominate " a good breeder," observing, at the same time, that he 
 must make it produce as much as it was able, while there was a cus- 
 tomer to be found. 
 
 That our artist was influenced by these motives alone, in repeat- 
 ing so often the subjects of his pencil, and that the expressions were 
 unquestionably his own, are facts, imparted to me by the son of a 
 person who was intimately acquainted with Wilson, and who knew his 
 circumstances perfectly well. 
 
 How unfortunate, alas, is the lot of some men ! and, oftentimes, 
 how unjust and capricious are the opinions concerning them, which 
 the world entertains ! Here we see an unfortunate being, gifted with 
 talents the most transcendant, driven, in order to obtain the very 
 necessaries of existence, to measures in the highest degree humi- 
 liating, and befitting only the ordinary practitioner in the art, — and 
 
 F 
 
34 
 
 MERIT OF WILSON'S PAINTINGS 
 
 this arising from no other cause, than that the public was not able to 
 understand, and still less to feel the sublimity of his powers ; we 
 see, what a whimsical world ! this same person absolutely denied the 
 very possession of those talents, merely from his having resorted to 
 an expedient, to which alone incapacity in the public to discern 
 them compelled him to stoop ! 
 
 Away, then, with such cold calculating censors as these ! and 
 let us, in these more enlightened days, now that time, that great 
 remover of prejudice, has brought the truth to light, endeavour to 
 act a part more generous, and, at the same time, more just, to the 
 memory of this great and much injured individual ; and while we 
 compassionate the hardships which in his life-time he was destined 
 to undergo, let us hesitate no longer in paying to those sublime 
 works he has fortunately left us, that fair tribute of our admiration 
 and applause, which the delight and the gratification they are calcu- 
 lated to produce, so indisputably demand. 
 
 As no one can remain unconscious of his own powers, whatever 
 share of modesty or humility he may possess, how great, how severe 
 must have been the mortification to a mind constructed like that of 
 Wilson, in finding his best hopes disappointed, and his labours de- 
 nied either the encouragement or the recompence they so richly 
 deserved ; while he could see others, " whose natural gifts were poor 
 to those of his," enjoying the patronage and support of the world ! 
 
 It is said, that at the time that Barrett, the call for whose pic- 
 tures was very great, failed, through his extravagant folly, he was in 
 the receipt of two thousand a year, though at the very time poor 
 Wilson could hardly sell a picture. The landscapes, too, of Smith 
 of Chichester, although of very inferior merit, produced much higher 
 prices than those of Wilson, from whom he carried the prize at the 
 Royal Society. 
 
 Connoisseurship, indeed, seems at this period to have been little 
 understood, and the degree of knowledge, even in those whose atten- 
 tion was at all directed to the art, appears to have been very inferior 
 to that which we find in these more enlightened days. It has been 
 
■Y 
 
NOT UNDERSTOOD IN HIS DAY. 
 
 85 
 
 mentioned, that a gentleman having a Claude, so damaged as to 
 require a new sky, employed Wilson to put it in ; and, when done, 
 brought some of his friends to see it, one of whom was a person 
 much looked up to as a judge in the fine arts, who, on beholding the 
 picture, exclaimed, " There ! there is a sky ! where is the artist 
 alive, who can paint such an one ?" 
 
 It has been reported also, that Wilson composed his picture of 
 Ceyx and Alcyone for a pot of beer set on the remains of a Stilton 
 cheese. To what miserable expedients, alas ! as we have before 
 remarked, does this exalted genius seem to have been driven, in 
 order to the obtainina; of even the mere necessaries of existence ! 
 
 Though possessed, as doubtless this great painter must have 
 ^been, of that lofty and steady confidence in himself, the usual con- 
 comitant of great abilities ; still, it is impossible not to suppose that 
 the neglect which he experienced, added to his pecuniary embarrass- 
 ments, must in no small degree have damped the ardour of his 
 pursuit ; 
 
 " This mournful truth is every where confessed, 
 
 Slow rises worth, by Poverty depress'd," Dr. Johnson. 
 
 " To the disgrace of his country," observes an intelligent writer, 
 " it was reserved for the liberality of foreigners, Zucarelli and Ver- 
 net, to develope the talents of Wilson, and to raise him into what- 
 ever sphere of public notice he acquired ! Unless," continues the 
 same writer, " contemporary accounts be utterly false, he was fre- 
 quently under the necessity of taking his small pictures to particular 
 brokers, and selling them for whatever trifling sum he could procure. 
 His large pictures were often sent, fresh from the easel, to the same 
 markets. There is a person now in St. James's parish, London, of 
 whom it is said, that being hard pressed one day by Wilson to give a 
 small sum for one of his pictures, he at length led the artist up to 
 the attic story, and opening a door pointed to a pile of landscapes 
 against the wall, saying, * Why look ye, Dick, you know I wish to 
 ' oblige you j but see, there's all the stock I paid you for these three 
 « years !' " 
 
 F 2 
 
3g WILSON NEGLECTED. 
 
 It is generally believed that some of the pictures thus gladly 
 parted with for a few pounds, have been since sold for hundreds. 
 
 Besides brokers and other inferior venders of his works, there 
 was a shoe-maker in Long Acre who was in the constant habit of 
 receiving pictures newly* painted from Wilson, for the purpose of 
 exposing them for sale, his shop being furnished with two windows 
 to the street, in one of which were placed the articles of his trade, 
 and in the other, very frequently, a landscape by Wilson. 
 
 It has been well observed, that " the name of this extraordinary 
 man is a reproach to the age in which he lived ; the most accom- 
 plished landscape painter this country ever produced, uniting the 
 composition of Claude with the execution of Poussin ; avoiding the 
 minuteness of the one and rivalling the spirit of the other. With 
 powers which ought to have raised him to the highest fame, and re- 
 commended him to the most prosperous fortune, Wilson was suffered 
 to live embarrassed, and to die poor. Conscious of his claims, how- 
 ever, he bore the neglect he experienced with firmness and dignity ; 
 and though he had the mortification to see very inferior talents pre- 
 ferred in the estimation of the public, yet he was never seduced to 
 depart from his own style of painting, or to adopt the more fashion- 
 able and imposing qualities of art, which his superior judgment 
 taught him to condemn, and which the example of his works ought 
 to have exposed and suppressed." 
 
 But the public feeling is at length awakened to the merits of 
 Wilson, though, unhappilj^, too late for him to benefit by the dis- 
 covery, and the authentic productions of his hand are purchased at 
 all fashionable sales with an avidity that procures for the picture- 
 dealer the affluence which was denied to the painter. 
 
 " Kind too late, 
 Relenting Fortune weeps o'er Wilson's fate ; 
 Remorseful owns her blindness, and to fame 
 
 Consigns, with sorrow, his illustrious name." Shee. ' 
 
 " How often," continues the same writer, whose remarks, whe- 
 ther in verse or in prose, upon an art in which he is himself so emi- 
 
WILSON NEGLECTED. 3^7 
 
 nently skilled, are no less judicious than they are refined, " How 
 often has the liberal mind occasion to lament that perverseness of 
 taste which refuses to be pleased with the efforts of genius while the 
 pleasure can be reciprocal ; which affects apathy and indifference to all 
 living merit, and disdains to bestow either praise or profit, till the 
 one can be no longer heard, and the other no longer useful."* 
 
 *' Cineri gloria sera venit."f Martial. 
 
 J " What a pity," says a severe satirist of the day, " that the world 
 should be so fascinated by high finishing, fan painting, the smooth 
 Birmingham-waiter glare, the pigmy efforts of the art, as to be to- 
 tally unaffected by the powers of the giant Wilson, as to proscribe the 
 broad and vivid efforts of his pencil, and forbid his works an entrance 
 into its palaces ! :J: What a triumph for the shades of the Medicis, the 
 patrons and idolaters of Michael Angelo and Raphael ! What a pity 
 that the patronage which might have fostered the breed of eagles 
 should have perverted the blessing to the support of hedge-sparrows 
 and tom-tits !" || 
 
 The same writer (as it is believed) and poet, Peter Pindar, who 
 was a great friend of Wilson, and felt the full value of his matchless 
 productions, says, in no less energetic strains, 
 
 " 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 those times : 
 Wait till thou hast been dead a hundred year !" § 
 
 * Shee's Rhymes on Art. 
 
 f " That glory profits a man but little which arrives only after he is in his grave." 
 
 :j: This is in allusion to the picture ordered by his late majesty, and returned upon 
 the painter's hands ; a circumstance which will be noticed in a subsequent page. 
 
 II Vide Supplement to the new edition of Pilkington's Dictionary of Painters. The 
 article entitled " Wilson" therein, is supposed to have been written by Dr. Walcott, 
 alias Peter Pindar. 
 
 § Odes to the Academicians, by Peter Pindar. 
 
38 
 
 WILSON NEGLECTED. 
 
 So mucli did pecuniary difficulties oppress the latter years of 
 poor Wilson, previously to his retiring from the metropolis, that the 
 place of librarian to the Royal Academy, the whole emolument of 
 which amounts to about fifty pounds a year, was conferred upon him 
 to enable him to eke out a mere subsistence ! 
 
 When, therefore, we compare the high estimation in which the 
 pictures of this artist are held at the present day, the eagerness with 
 which they are sought after, and the extraordinary prices they pro- 
 cure, with the sad neglect and indifference they were doomed to 
 experience during the lifetime of the unfortunate painter, one can 
 hardly sufficiently admire the singular taste and discjgj'nment which 
 j: vompted these " prophetic rhymes:" indeed, the fate Wilson must for 
 ever remain a convincing proof, how few possess a real feeling for 
 the art, and how much, in matters of virtu, the multitude are guided 
 by the prevailing opinion of the day. 
 
 The time, however, is at length arrived in which the poet's 
 prophecy is fulfilled, and it is now the fashion to admire and to extol 
 the heretofore rejected paintings of Wilson. 
 
39 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 MOMPER. — HIS WORKS STUDIED BY WILSON. — GALLERY OF PORTRAITS AT FLORENCE. — 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. — -HIS SENTIMENTS RESPECTING THE STUDY OF PAINTING.— 
 THE PICTURES OF WILSON ADDRESSED TO THE IMAGINATION, AND INTENDED TO PRO- 
 DUCE A PLEASING EFFECT UPON THE MIND. THE GENERAL EFFECT, AND THE PICTURE 
 
 CONSIDERED AS A WHOLE, HIS CHIEF CONCERN. HIS METHOD OF STUDY WHILE IN 
 
 ITALY. THE PRINCIPLES OF LANDSCAPE PAINTING, AS LAID DOWN BY SIR JOSHUA 
 
 REYNOLDS AND MR. ALISON. EMOTIONS OF TASTE. TRAIN OF THOUGHT. IMAGI- 
 NATION. — UNITY OF EXPRESSION AND CHARACTER. SIMPLICITY. WILSON SUPERIOR 
 
 TO CLAUDE IN EXHIBITING THE MORE STRIKING EFFECTS OF NATURE, AND IN THE 
 USE OF ACCIDENTS. — COMPARISON BETWEEN CLAUDE AND GASPAR POUSSIN. 
 
 There is a circumstance respecting the pictures of Wilson, which 
 has always very forcibly struck me, and concerning which, although 
 a number of writers have at different times, in a cursory manner, 
 touched upon either the merit, the style, or the history of this artist, 
 not one of them, at least as far as I have been able to discover, has 
 taken any notice whatever ; and that is, that in the beginning of his 
 practice, in landscape painting, Wilson must have very carefully ob- 
 served, and in no small degree attentively studied, the works of 
 Momper ; of this unquestionable proof was afforded me during my 
 residence at Rome. In a gentleman's collection there, I was shown 
 an early picture of Wilson, painted while he resided in that city, 
 placed by the side of one of Momper ; the very great resemblance 
 both in manner and colour was truly remarkable ; so much so, that 
 no one who saw the two paintings together, could for a moment 
 doubt of the truth of the observation which has been made. 
 
 I have little hesitation, therefore, in believing that the foundation 
 of that excellence to which our countryman attained, more particu- 
 larly in that most difficult and rare perfection of landscape painting. 
 
40 
 
 WORKS OF MOMPER 
 
 viz. the representation of the pure and pearly tint of air, was derived 
 in no inconsiderable degree from an accurate observance of the 
 works of Momper, accompanied doubtless, with an unremitted study 
 of nature. Zucarelli and Vernet have both been mentioned as 
 models in Wilson's pursuit ; but I am of opinion that he was more 
 indebted to the abovenamed artist, than to either. 
 
 To trace the mode of study, practised by a painter, who, like 
 Wilson, arrived at such perfection in his art, and the mea«s which he 
 used, especially in the commencement of his career, may be con- 
 sidered, at least an interesting, if not a useful investigation. 
 
 Like every other candidate for fame in a similar pursuit, pos- 
 sessed of that enthusiasm and unwearied application, by which 
 alone the difficulties of the art are to be overcome, Wilson, we may 
 be well assured, omitted no opportunity of forming his taste by the 
 study of the best pictures of all the various painters of landscape 
 within his reach ; from these, he naturally formed his own conception 
 of what was fine ; and thus, unfettered by the rules or the manner of 
 any particular master, he gradually prepared himself to adopt a style 
 entirely his own. 
 
 The pictures, however, of Momper, appear in a more particular 
 manner to have made an impression upon his mind, and in his produc- 
 tions, more particularly at the commencement of his becoming a 
 landscape painter, may be traced ideas founded on these early 
 associations. 
 
 So continually indeed has the impression of this fact been 
 renewed by repeated observation, that I feel almost disposed to carry 
 the consideration of it still further, and to be of opinion, that our 
 artist never during the whole course of his career, lost sight altoge- 
 ther of the groundwork, upon which to a certain extent his early 
 practice had been raised. In contemplating even his later and more 
 studied compositions, I have in various instances been considerably 
 struck with here and there some reminiscence of Momper, produced 
 by the resemblance to his manner, which some particular passage or 
 group of figures in Wilson's pictures evidently possessed. The in- 
 
STUDIED BY WILSON. 
 
 41 
 
 troduction into the foregi;ound for example, of the large, round, and 
 sometimes oblong stone, so often to be met with in the compositions 
 of our artist, had its origin, perhaps, in no other quarter, a similar 
 practice being often observable in the pictures of the abovenamed 
 master. 
 
 During my residence at Rome, many opportunities occurred of 
 seeing pictures of Momper ; so much interest, indeed, did I feel in 
 this master's works, arising partly from the conviction of the high es- 
 timation in which they must have been held by our great country- 
 man, that no opportunity was omitted of procuring specimens 
 of his pencil, wherever they were to be found. In a city, such as 
 Rome, where works of art are more thought of than any thing else, 
 a circumstance of this kind becomes presently known, and the con- 
 sequence was, that the doors of my fellow traveller and myself were 
 soon beset with picture dealers, and other venders of what they 
 wished very frequently to pass off, as pictures by Momper, a painter 
 whose works had previously been rarely enquired after. The eager- 
 ness of these gentry, and the avidity with which they ransacked every 
 quarter of the city, in search of such commodities, gave rise to a 
 number of very ludicrous scenes These people, indeed, seemed to 
 consider the Signori Inglesi as made absolutely of money, and that we 
 were equally ready for every thing that was offered. 
 
 In this manner I was able to obtain no less than six of Momper's 
 pictures, still in my possession, and four others were bought by my 
 fellow traveller at the same place, the latter of which are at his seat 
 at Chivet, in Yorkshire. 
 
 Mr. Rarnett, sen. an eminent picture-dealer, assured me, that until 
 he had seen these pictures he had no idea of the powers of Momper, 
 and that his works, at least those of a superior kind, were altogether 
 unknown in this country ; and, indeed, most true it is, that in very 
 few collections are any examples of this painter to be found. 
 
 At Worksop Manor, the seat of his Grace the Duke of Nor- 
 folk, I remember to have seen a specimen of this master of small 
 dimensions, yet in excellent preservation. This little picture (of 
 
 G 
 
42 
 
 GALLERY OF PORTRAITS AT FLORENCE. 
 
 which a doubt could not be entertained as to its being Momper's) 
 was hung up in the midst of a great many others, by different hands, 
 in an apartment of considerable size ; but so instantaneously did its 
 sparkling beauty, and exquisitely clear and brilliant colouring, espe- 
 cially in the sky and distance, catch my eye, and such was the 
 striking effect which its admirable claro-oscuro produced, that most 
 of the other paintings appeared poor and meagre by the side of it. 
 And yet the subject of this piece was of inconsiderable interest ; but 
 the transparency, the mellowness, the pearly brightness of its hue, 
 announced it as the work of no common hand. In the housekeeper's 
 account of the names of the different painters, and the estimation in 
 which the rest of the pictures were held, she appeared to be most 
 perfectly at home ; but respecting the one in question, it was can- 
 didly acknowledged that she had never been able to find out the 
 painter's name, notwithstanding her repeated enquiries. 
 
 This sudden and forcible appeal to my notice, reminded me of a 
 somewhat similar claim experienced, many years ago, on first enter- 
 ing the magnificent gallery of portraits at Florence. In this spaci- 
 ous apartment are collected, to the amount of several hundreds, the 
 portraits of celebrated painters, all executed by themselves ; they are 
 of small size (heads), hang close together, and cover the walls of the 
 gallery from the top to the bottom. No sooner had I passed the 
 threshold of the door, than my attention was instantly arrested by 
 the very striking appearance of one of these pictures, which, though 
 in no way set off, either by its situation or its frame, shone, like a 
 diamond among common stones, with singular brilliancy and effect. 
 Upon a nearer approach, I was most agreeably, no less than unex- 
 pectedly delighted to discover that this very beautiful and attractive 
 picture was no other than the portrait of our great Sir Joshua him- 
 self! The pride and exultation which I felt at that moment, in thus 
 witnessing the very conspicuous superiority of our countryman (in 
 colour, at least) was such as cannot be described.* 
 
 * Though the picture here mentioned may not possibly be ranked among the fir^t 
 productions of Sir Joshua Reynolds, it must still be considered as one of the best and 
 most striking portraits in the collection. 
 
MOMPER. 
 
 43 
 
 Among this interesting assemblage of great men, our inimitable 
 Wilson, I am sorry to say, was no where to be found ; surely his 
 portrait, too, was well deserving of a place in this temple of fame ! 
 " Anch' io sono pittore," * might he justly exclaim, and doubtless 
 with as much truth as any individual in the room. 
 
 Neither Wilson or Momper seem to have considered high finish- 
 ing as much worthy of their regard ; to please was their object, 
 rather than to surprise ; the general effect, rather than the particular 
 detail, engaged the attention of these artists ; and though, in their 
 representations of nature, an apparent negligence and slightness of 
 manner may lead many to overlook the merit which they possess, 
 nevertheless, among all true judges of the art, they must ever 
 be considered as works replete with science, with judgment, and 
 taste. That which is most laboured is not always most worthy to be 
 seen, and the most obvious are not the most arduous difficulties ; 
 " in painting, indeed, in particular," as it has been well observed, 
 " the most exquisite effects of skill are often concealed in their own 
 ingenuity, and least palpable when most successful." " Ars est 
 celare artem." The great art, whether in writing or painting, is to 
 prevent the discovery of the very art that has been employed ; a 
 perfection attainable only by long practice and observation, and to 
 be duly appreciated by none, except such as are possessed of a re- 
 fined taste and great experience. 
 
 Since, in considering the early practice of Wilson, much stress 
 has been laid upon a comparison that may not so forcibly strike the 
 observation of others ; and as Momper's works are rarely to be met 
 with in the cabinets of our collectors in this country, it may not be 
 foreign to the purpose if I give some account of this artist, and of 
 his particular style in painting. Some observations, therefore, col- 
 lected from different authors respecting him, I shall venture to oflfer, 
 in support of the opinion advanced. 
 
 Momper was born at Antwerp, and studied at Rome. " His 
 pictures," says Mr. Bryan, in his Dictionary of Painters and En- 
 
 * " I, too, am a painter." — A saying of Corregio. 
 G 2 
 
44 MOMPER. 
 
 gravers, " are frequently decorated with figures by the elder Teniers, 
 or John Breughel. Vandyke painted the portrait of Momper, among 
 the celebrated artists of his country, and etched a plate of it himself. 
 His pencil is broad and facile, and his colouring clear and of an agree- 
 able effect." 
 
 In speaking of this artist, Pilkington makes the following re- 
 marks. " Though some of his paintings are well handled, and pen- 
 ciled with transparence and neatness, yet in general his pictures are 
 not laboured or highly finished, but are intended to produce a good 
 effect, at a considerable distance from the eye of the spectator. His 
 landscapes show an immense tract of country, and the imagination 
 is often agreeably amused with the extensiveness of the prospect, 
 which is always well conducted. However, the freedom of his touch 
 seems to some observers to have too much the appearance of 
 negligence." 
 
 In the " Abrege de la Vie des plus fameux Peintres," by Mons. 
 Dargenville, is the following account of Momper. Whether Wilson 
 was acquainted with that author's work or not, it is impossible to 
 say ; he, nevertheless, seems, judging from the comparison that has 
 been made, to have looked upon the productions of the Fleming 
 with pretty much the same eye that M. Dargenville appears to have 
 done ; indeed, the description which this writer gives of Momper's 
 style, and the peculiar excellencies which he points out, as belonging 
 to his works, may, in a great degree, be equally applicable to the 
 paintings of Wilson, especially of his larger productions. 
 
 As the force of his expressions might be weakened by trans- 
 lation, the account shall be given in the author's own words. * 
 
 - " Josse Momper pent passer pour un grand paisagiste ; il naquit 
 environ I'an 1580, sans qu'on sache precisement le nom de la ville, 
 celui de son pere, et qui fut son maitre. II faut croire qu'en habille 
 homme, il n'cn eut d'autre que la nature ; il peignoit tout d'apres elle, 
 d'une touche legere, sans rien finir, de maniere que ses tableaux ne 
 font leur effet que de loin. 
 
 * For a translation of this account of Momper, vide Appendix, at the end of the 
 volume. 
 
MOMPER. 
 
 45 
 
 " Cette pratique plait moins aux yeux, aussi lui a-t-elle attire 
 peu de sectateurs ; mais sans prevention, ne vaut-elle pas autant 
 qu'une qui servit plus finie, pourvii qu'elle fasse son efFet, qu'elle 
 surprenne, qu'elle trompe le spectateur? Que pent faire de plus 
 le gout fini de Breugel, de Paul Bril, et de Saverj ? Josse Momper n'a 
 pas suivi le gout de son pays, il a cherche la nature, et cette com- 
 mune mere s'est montree a lui bien difFerente de ce qu'elle a paru aux 
 autres Flamans. Le beau site de ses paisages lui a acquis un certain 
 nom ; ces tableaux font un grand effet par leur degradation ; et par 
 leur etendue admirable il vous promenent I'imagination plus qu'aucun 
 autre peintre. 
 
 " 11 faut cependant convenir que les ouvrages de ce maitre 
 trouvent peu d'acces dans les grands cabinets, et ne sont pas cher. 
 Une certaine negligence quand on les regard de pres, leur touche 
 peu terminee, ne les met pas au rang des autres Flamans, que ne 
 sont estimes que pour le precieux fini." 
 
 It would seem from this account, that the excellencies of 
 Momper's pictures, like those of Wilson, were neither felt nor under- 
 stood in his day, and that neglect and indifference were alike the 
 portion of both. 
 
 Let it not be imagined that, in drawing this comparison, the 
 originality of Wilson is called in question ; all that is meant to be 
 implied by the foregoing remarks is, that in the commencement of 
 his study in landscape painting, he made choice of the works of 
 Momper, in preference to those of any other master, as his guide. 
 Every practitioner must necessarily, at first, have some model to 
 form himself by, some one to furnish him with the method, and the 
 rudiments of his art ; to say, then, that Wilson or any other painter 
 derived no assistance from the works of his predecessors, would be 
 altogether absurd ; " for if," as Sir Joshua Reynolds observes, " we 
 were denied the advantages which they afford, the art would be 
 always to begin, and consequently remain in its infant state ; and it 
 is a common observation, that no art was ever invented, and carried 
 to perfection at the same time." 
 
SENTIMENTS OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 " A painter," continues the same admirable instructor, in whose 
 hand the pencil and the pen may be said to have moved with equal 
 o-race, " a painter must not only be an imitator of nature, but he 
 must as necessarily be an imitator of the works of other painters, 
 and no man can be an artist, whatever he may suppose, upon any 
 other terms. 
 
 " For my own part," the president goes on to say, " I am not only 
 very much disposed to maintain the absolute necessity, in the first 
 stages of the art, but am of opinion that the study of other masters, 
 which I here call imitation, may be extended throughout our whole 
 lives, without any danger of the inconveniences with which it is 
 charged, or of enfeebling the mind, or preventing us from giving 
 that original air which every work undoubtedly ought always to 
 have. 
 
 " I am, on the contrary, persuaded that by imitation only, variety 
 and even originality of invention is produced. I will go further ; 
 even genius, at least what is generally so called, is the child of imita- 
 tion. Invention is one of the great marks of genius ; but if we con- 
 sult experience, we shall find, that it is by being conversant with 
 the inventions of others, that we learn to invent, as by reading the 
 thoughts of others, we ' learn to think. It is in vain for painters or 
 poets to endeavour to invent without materials on which the mind 
 may work, and from which invention must originate. Nothing can 
 come of nothino;. 
 
 " It is," adds Sir Joshua, " a necessary and warrantable pride to 
 disdain to walk servilely behind any individual, however exalted his 
 rank. The true and liberal ground of imitation is an open field, 
 where, though he who precedes has the advantage of starting before 
 you, you may always propose to overtake him ; it is enough, how- 
 ever, to pursue his course ; you need not tread in his footsteps, and 
 you certainly have a right to outstrip him if you can." 
 
 Thus did Wilson pursue, and thus did he outstrip Momper, both 
 in execution and colour, as well as in every other department of the 
 art. 
 
CHARACTER OF WILSON'S PICTURES. 
 
 47 
 
 That a painter's works, which by the public were so h'glitlj es- 
 teemed, as it appears Momper's were, should attract the notice and 
 regard of our artist, though painted nearly a century and a half 
 before his own time, is a proof of the unprejudiced discrimination of 
 his mind, and evinces in an high degree, how determined he was to 
 see with his own ei/es, and no less so to judge foi' himself, without 
 allowing, as is too commonly the case, the opinions of others, how- 
 ever generally received, to prevent him from detecting real merit, 
 wherever it was to be found, or of turning to his own advantage the 
 discovery when made. 
 
 The imagination rather than the eye, was, with Wilson, the object 
 to which his productions were intended to be addressed ; he seems 
 indeed to have been fully sensible of this great truth, that " inind 
 must be ever considered the true excellence in art ; that a mere 
 copier of nature can never produce any thing great ; can never raise 
 and enlarge the conceptions, or warm the heart of the spectator 
 for, as Mr. Gilpin justly remarks, " all the real artist wishes, is to 
 give such characteristic touches to his pictures, as may be able to rouse 
 the imagination of the beholder. The picture is not so much the 
 ultimate end, as it is the 7nedium through which the ravishino^ scenes 
 of nature are excited in the imagination ; for the true enjoyment of 
 the picture depends chiefly on the imagination of the spectator."* 
 
 " It is not the eye, it is the mind," says Sir Joshua, " which the 
 painter of genius desires to address ; nor will he waste a moment 
 upon those objects which only serve to catch the sense, to divide the 
 attention, and to counteract his great design of speaking to the heart ;" 
 well knowing that " the value and rank of every art is in proportion to 
 the mental labour employed in, or the mental pleasure produced by 
 it J instead of endeavouring to amuse mankind with the minute 
 neatness of his imitations, the genuine painter will endeavour to 
 improve them by the grandeur of his ideas ; instead of seeking 
 praise by deceiving the superficial sense of the spectator, he will 
 
 * Gilpin on Picturesque Beauty. 
 
GENERAL EFFECT. 
 
 48 
 
 strive for fame by captivating the imagination. The painter, there- 
 fore, is to make no ostentation of the means by which this is done j 
 the spectator is only to feel the result in his bosom. An inferior 
 artist is unwilling that any part of his industry should be lost on 
 the spectator. He takes as much pains to discover, as the greater 
 artist does to conceal, the marks of his subordinate assiduity. 
 
 " A landscape painter certainly ought to study anatomically (if I 
 may use the expression) all the objects which he paints ; but when 
 he is to turn his studies to use, his skill, as a man of genius, will be 
 displayed in showing the general effect, preserving the same degree 
 of hardness and softness which the objects have in nature : for he 
 applies himself to the imagination not to curiosity. 
 
 " In a word, the great end of the fine arts," continues the learned 
 president, " is to make an impression on the imagination, and the feel- 
 ing. I think, therefore, the true test of all the arts, is not solely, whe- 
 ther the production is a true copy of nature, but whether it answers the 
 end of the art, which is to produce a pleasing effect upon the mind." 
 
 To every attentive observer of the pictures of Wilson, it must 
 be sufficiently evident, that a similar principle, and an object, such as 
 has here been defined, influenced, in a very extended degree, the 
 mind of this master, and characterised the operations of his inimit- 
 able hand. 
 
 Wilson's contemplation of art was of the most elevated kind ; 
 without fatiguing by detail, or entering into the minutiae of nature, 
 his grand object was to display that genius which consists in the 
 power of expressing that which employed his pencil, whatever it 
 might be, as a wliole ; so that the general effect and power of the 
 whole might take possession of the mind, and for a while suspend 
 the consideration of the subordinate and particular beauties or 
 defcicts. * 
 
 In a late publication, there are some observations on the style 
 of Wilson's paintings, and, more especially, on that particular excel- 
 lence which he possessed, of exciting the imagination of his behold- 
 
 * Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
METHOD OF STUDYING WHILE IN ITALY. 49 
 
 ers, and upon which so much stress has been laid, that they may with 
 propriety be introduced here, as a fui'ther proof how much he con- 
 templated and practised the art, in the manner above described. 
 
 We have, indeed, only to ascertain from those who, being con- 
 versant with the subject, are best fitted by erudition and a cultivated 
 mind, to determine in what the true principles of landscape painting 
 consist, and then to try, by a standard of such undoubted authority, 
 the productions of our artist, and we shall quickly discover in what an 
 elevated situation he stands. 
 
 " Wilson," observes the writer alluded to, " upon his arrival in 
 Italy, choosing not to confine himself merely to the study of the art, 
 which would have made him an imitator or a mannerist, studied 
 nature in her finest attitudes, and among the grandest forms ; and 
 having examined a picture in the morning, would compare its fide- 
 lity with nature in the evening. It was this that enabled him to ac- 
 quire his bold and original style. Upon his return to his native 
 country, the imagery of Italy still hovered in his imagination, and he 
 could never, in the sketching of landscapes, so far forget the lofty cha- 
 racter of that lovely country, as to content himself with delineating 
 English scenes, merely as they were. The slopes were too tame and 
 uninteresting for his classic pencil. The result of all this was, that 
 though he never failed to finish a good picture, he always failed to 
 give a faithful portrait of the scene which he intended to portray. 
 
 " This painter," continues the same author, " had the faculty of 
 exciting the imagination of his observers in no common degree ; this is 
 one of the most delightful effects which the art of painting is capable 
 of producing ; for it is not the actual scene presented to the eye that 
 constitutes the principal charm in landscape painting, — it is the fine 
 conceptions which it awakens in the mind, and which float, as it 
 were, in the imagination, in endless varieties of forms, and in indescrib- 
 able fascination of colour." * 
 
 Perhaps no landscape painter, either before or since Wilson, 
 ever excited in the mind, in a higher degree, that delightful feeling 
 
 * The Philosophy of Nature, or the Influence of Scenery on the Mind and Heart, 
 
 H 
 
50 PRINCIPLES OF LANDSCAPE PAINTING. 
 
 which, as Mr. Alison observes, it is the great object of the fine arts to 
 produce ; viz. The emotions of taste, or that exercise of the imagin- 
 ation which consists of a train of tJiouglii. How well, too, did this ad- 
 mirable painter understand that " the great source of the superiority 
 of his productions to the original scenes in nature, consisted in the 
 purity and harmony of his composition ; in the power which he en- 
 joyed of removing from his landscapes whatever was hostile to its 
 effect or unsuited to its character, and by selecting only such circum- 
 stances as accord with the general expression of the scene ; awaken- 
 ing an emotion more full, more simple, and more harmonious than 
 any we can receive from the scenes of nature itself." * 
 
 In treating of this subject, the elegant writer of the Essay on 
 Taste appears to have been influenced so exactly by that feeling 
 which the singular merit of Wilson's pictures inspire, that I cannot 
 resist transcribing some additional observations from his interesting 
 work. The remarks, indeed, of Mr. Alison are so apposite, and 
 must so materially assist the connoisseur in pointing out the peculiar 
 excellencies of this master, that one cannot but imagine them as in- 
 tended to be applied almost exclusively to him ; for to no other 
 painter does it appear that they could, with equal truth, so entirely 
 belong. 
 
 " The art of landscape painting," says he, " is superior in its 
 effect to real nature, from the capacity which the artist enjoys of 
 giving greater extent and greater unity to his composition. In a 
 landscape the painter has the choice of the circumstances he is to 
 represent, and can give whatever force or extent he pleases to the 
 expression he wishes to convey. He may select from a thousand 
 scenes, the circumstances which are to characterise a single com- 
 position, and may unite into one expression the scattered features 
 with which nature has feebly marked a thousand situations. The 
 momentary effects of light and shade, the fortunate incidents which 
 chance sometimes throws in to improve the expression of real 
 
 * Alison's Essay on Taste. 
 
PRINCIPLES OF LANDSCAPE PAINTING. 
 
 51 
 
 scenery, and which can never again be recalled, he has it in his 
 power to perpetuate upon his canvass ; above all, the occupations of 
 men, so important in determining or in heightening the character of 
 nature, fall easily within the reach of his imitation, and afford him 
 the means of producing both greater strength and greater unity of 
 expression, than is to be found either in the rude, or in the embelHshed 
 state of real society. 
 
 " It is by this rule, accordingly, that the excellence of all such 
 composition is determined. In real nature we often forgive, or are 
 willing to forget, slight inaccuracies or trifling inconsistencies ; but in 
 such productions of design we expect and require more perfect cor- 
 respondence. Every object that is not suited to the character of the 
 scene, or that has not an effect in strengthening the expression by 
 which it is distinguished, we condemn as an intrusion, and consider 
 as a reproach upon the taste of the artist. When this expectation, 
 on the contrary, is fully gratified ; when the circumstances of the 
 scenery are all such as accord with the peculiar emotion which the 
 scene is fitted to inspire ; when the hand of the artist disappears, and 
 the embellishments of his fancy press upon our belief as the volun- 
 tary profusion of nature, we immediately pronounce that the com- 
 position is perfect ; we acknowledge that he has attained the end of 
 his art; and, in yielding ourselves up to the emotion which his 
 composition demands, we afford him the most convincing mark of 
 our applause. 
 
 " In the power which the art of landscape painting thus pos- 
 sesses, in common with the other fine arts, of withdrawing from its 
 imitations whatever is inconsistent with their expression, and of 
 adding whatever may contribute to strengthen or to extend their 
 effect, consists the great superiority which it possesses over the 
 originals from which they are copied. 
 
 " While it is by the invention of such circumstances that we 
 estimate the genius of the artist, it is by their composition that his 
 taste is uniformly determined. The mere assemblage of picturesque 
 incidents the most unimproved taste will condemn. Some general 
 
 H 2 
 
52 
 
 PRINCIPLES OF LANDSCAPE PAINTING. 
 
 principle is universally demanded, some decided expression, to which 
 the meaning of the several parts may be referred, and which, by 
 affording us, as it were, the key of the scene, may lead us to feel, 
 from the whole of the composition, that full and undisturbed emo- 
 tion which we are prepared to indulge. It is this purity of compo- 
 sition, accordingly, which has uniformly distinguished the great 
 masters of the art from the mere copiers of nature. It is by their 
 adherence to it that their fame has been attained ; and the source of 
 the superiority which such imitations have over the originals, from 
 which they are copied, consist in the power which the artist enjoys 
 of giving a u?iiti/ of character to his productions, which is not to be 
 found in real nature : the names of Salvator and Claude Lorraine," 
 and (Mr. Alison might have added) of Gaspar and Wilson, " can 
 scarcely be mentioned, without bringing to mind the peculiar 
 character of their compositions, and the different emotions which 
 their representations of nature are destined to produce. 
 
 " It is not, however," continues this accurate observer, " on 
 our first acquaintance with this art, that we either discover its 
 capacity or its effects ; and perhaps the progress of taste, in this 
 respect, may afford a further illustration of the great and funda- 
 mental principle of composition. What we first understand of 
 painting is, that it is a simple art of imitation ; and what we expect 
 to find in it, is the representation of the common scenes of nature 
 that surround us. It is with some degree of surprise, accordingly, 
 that we at first observe the different scenery with which the painter 
 presents us, and with an emotion rather of wonder than of delight, 
 that we gaze at a style of landscape which has so little resemblance 
 to the ordinary views to which we are accustomed. In the copy of 
 a real scene we can discover and admire the skill of the artist; but 
 in the representation of desert or of desolate prospects, in appear- 
 ances of solitude or tempest, we perceive no traces of imitation, and 
 wonder only at the perversity of taste which could have led to the 
 choice of so disagreeable subjects. 
 
 " As soon, however, as from the progress of our sensibility, or 
 
PRINCIPLES OF LANDSCAPE PAINTING. 
 
 53 
 
 from our acquaintance with poetical composition, we begin to con- 
 nect expression with such views of nature ; we begin, also, to under- 
 stand and to feel the beauties of landscape painting. It is with a dif- 
 ferent view that we now consider it. It is not for imitation we look, 
 but for character. It is not the art, but the genius of the painter, which 
 now gives value to his compositions ; and the language he employs 
 is found not only to speak to the eye, but to affect the imagination 
 and the heart. It is not now a simple copy which we see, nor is our 
 emotion limited to the cold pleasure which arises from the perception 
 of accurate imitation. It is a creation of fancy with which the artist 
 presents us, in which only the greater expressions of nature are re- 
 tained, and where more interesting emotions are awakened, than 
 those which we experience from the usual tameness of common 
 scenery. In the same proportion in which we thus discover the ex- 
 pression of landscape, we begin to collect the principles of its com- 
 position. The crowd of incidents which used to dazzle our earlier 
 taste, as expressive both of the skill and the invention of the artist, 
 begin to appear to us as inconsistence or confusion. When our 
 hearts are affected, we seek only for objects congenial to our emo- 
 tion ; and the simplicity which we used to call the poverty of landscape, 
 begins now to be welcome to us, permitting us to indulge, without 
 interruption, those interesting traijis of thought which the character 
 of the scene is fitted to inspire. As our knowledge of the expres- 
 sions of nature increases, our sensibility to the beauty, or to the de- 
 fects of composition, becomes more keen, until at last our admiration 
 attaches itself only to those greater productions of the art in which 
 one pure and unmingled character is preserved, and in which no feature 
 is admitted which may prevent it from falling upon the heart with one 
 full and harmonious effect. 
 
 " In this manner, the object of painting is no sooner discovered 
 than the unity of expression is felt to be the great secret of its power j 
 the superiority which it at last assumes over the scenery of nature, is 
 found to arise, in one important respect, from the greater purity 
 and simplicity which its composition can attain ; and perhaps this 
 
PRINCIPLES OF LANDSCAPE PAINTING. 
 
 simple rule comprehends all that criticism can prescribe for the regu- 
 lation of this delightful art." * 
 
 It may be deemed, in the opinion of some, that a larger portion 
 than was perhaps necessary has been quoted from a work so generally 
 known as Mr. Alison's Essay on Taste j as, however, it is quite cer- 
 tain that the more Wilson's pictures are examined with reference to 
 the rules of the art, the more conspicuously must their merits ap- 
 pear, it seemed desirable that a standard so well defined should be 
 placed immediately before the eye of the reader, while forming his 
 judgment respecting their claims to excellence. A well understood 
 acquaintance, indeed, with the true principles of composition in 
 landscape painting, cannot fail, very greatly, to heighten the gratifi- 
 cation to be derived from the contemplation of his works, and ought, 
 unquestionably, to be fully and distinctly implanted in the mind of 
 the student, without which the pleasure to be derived from the study 
 either of pictures or the scenery of nature, is capable of being very 
 imperfectly enjoyed. 
 
 " A landscape thus conducted," observes Sir Joshua, " under 
 the influence of a poetical mind, will have the same superiority over 
 the more ordinary and common views, as Milton's Allegro and Pen- 
 seroso have over a cold prosaic narration or description ; and such a 
 picture would make a more forcible impression on the mind than the 
 real scenes were they presented before us !" 
 
 " Beauty best is taught 
 By those, the favour'd few, whom heaven has lent 
 The power to seize, select, and reunite 
 Her loveliest features ; and of those to form 
 One archetype complete, of sovereign grace. 
 Here Nature sees her fairest forms more fair ; 
 Owns them as hers, yet owns herself excell'd, 
 
 By what herself produced." GiLPlN. 
 
 Now, if in contemplating the pictures of Wilson, whose real 
 excellencies are not detected without study and accurate observation, 
 
 * Alison's Essay on Taste. 
 
i 
 
PRINCIPLES OF LANDSCAPE PAINTING. 
 
 55 
 
 accompanied by a calm and composed state of mind, fully alive to, 
 and ready to receive, those emotions of taste which we have been 
 considering, an acquaintance with which, be it observed, and the 
 singular delight arising from them, are not to be obtained by a mere 
 superficial attention to the art ; if, I say, in examining the composi- 
 tions of Wilson, we bear in mind the theory thus ably set forth, how 
 greatly must they rise in our estimation ? 
 
 In so doing, we cannot fail to discover, that the principles and 
 the regulations which Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr. Alison have laid 
 down, were ever present to the thoughts of this artist ; for with such 
 principles, and such regulations alone, could he affect, as he does, the 
 mind and the heart of the spectator. 
 
 The chaste simplicity of composition, the sublime expression, the 
 pure and harmonious general effect, which his productions display ; 
 together with the well understood unity of character, assisted, as it is, 
 by figures most judiciously introduced, which, although they may not 
 be highly finished, are always well placed, well coloured, and appro- 
 priate to the scene ; these excellencies combined, never fail to excite, 
 in the imagination of the beholder, that enchanting train of tliought 
 which, as these writers define, it is the true end of the art to produce. 
 
 To the enthusiastic admirer of nature, possessed of a mind thus 
 prepared to receive, and a taste to appreciate, the beauties of art ; 
 having his feelings at the same time " unmixed," if I may so say, 
 " with baser matter," that is, undisturbed with associations unsuited 
 to the feast, the contemplation of a fine picture of Wilson (take, for 
 instance, the Phaeton, the Niobe, or the Apollo and the Seasons,) 
 will furnish the like rapturous enjoyment that is experienced by the 
 connoisseur in music, while listening to a finely executed anthem of 
 Handel ; provided he be gifted with that sensibility, without which 
 there can be little enjoyment either to the one or the other. 
 
 " Nor less delight 
 The spirit felt, when still and charm'd I sate, 
 Great Milton's solemn harmonies to hear; 
 That swell to the full choir, and strong and clear, 
 Their long commingling diapason roll, 
 
 In numerous sweetness." Bowles. 
 
WILSON AND CLAUDE LORRAINE. 
 
 The compositions of Wilson are of the purest and most capti- 
 vating kind, — simple, chaste, elegant, and classical ; when he chose to 
 exhibit nature in her terrific or agitated forms, he became instantly 
 sublime. In subjects of this kind he is superior, it must be confessed, 
 to Claude, who seldom attempted any thing of the sort ; for, however 
 admirable that great landscape painter is, in the representation of the 
 tranquil scenes of nature, we rarely find an exhibition of those appear- 
 ances which come under the class of the grand in effect. 
 
 " It is true," as Mr. Gilpin justly observes, " that the objects 
 which Claude painted are of the grand species; he saw no other ; but 
 he seldom made the best use of them, by bringing them forward and 
 producing grand effects." * 
 
 With Wilson, on the contrary, this was not the case, and perhaps 
 few painters ever exhibited the more awful appearances of nature 
 with equal grandeur and sublimity of effect. 
 
 In these remarks, let it not be imagined, that a comparison is 
 meant to be drawn between two artists whose style is so different ; 
 or that there is any desire of raising the one, by lowering the merits 
 of the other. The works of both these masters produce in us the 
 purest mental pleasure, and are, in their respective ways, each of them 
 most justly entitled to our highest commendation and regard. 
 
 To call in question the powers of an artist with a reputation 
 like Claude's, whose pictures have, for such a length of time, been the 
 admiration of all, might seem like presumption, and it is with the 
 greatest deference that I hazard a remark of the kind, though, in 
 so doing, I am supported by abler judges than myself ; yet I cannot 
 but think they have handled the matter somewhat unfairly. These 
 advocates for our countryman seem to have thought, that by de- 
 tracting from the merits of Lorraine, they should place Wilson far 
 above his predecessor in the temple of Fame ; and this, too, in terms 
 at once the most prejudiced and unfair ; for whatever may be said in 
 respect of the awful or the terrific, all must agree, that in the represent- 
 
 * Gilpin on Picturesque Beauty. 
 
x7 
 
CLAUDE LORRAINE AND GASPAR POUSSIN. 
 
 57 
 
 ation of the serene and pleasing scenes of nature, in the pastoral style, 
 as Claude's may very properly be called, this charming painter must 
 ever hold the high station to which he has, by universal consent, so 
 very justly been raised ; and his truly beautiful landscapes can never 
 fail to inspire the heart of the beholder with the purest sentiments of 
 satisfaction and delight. 
 
 In a life of Nicolo Poussin, published not long ago, a comparison 
 is drawn between Claude and Gaspar, in which are some judicious 
 observations upon the different style and method of seeing nature, 
 t)bservable in the works of these artists ; and as the author concludes 
 her remarks with a reference to the peculiar merits of Wilson, 
 making, at the same time, honourable mention of the artists of our 
 own country in general ; of whom, as compared with the landscape 
 painters of the present day in Italy, she speaks in terms most highly 
 flattering, it will not be foreign to my present purpose if I introduce 
 the remarks alluded to in the writer's own words. This, indeed, will be 
 only acting in conformity with the plan proposed at setting out, viz. 
 of bringing together whatever could be collected respecting the artist 
 under consideration, which may, in any degree, tend to point out the 
 peculiar excellence of his works, and, at the same time, of putting 
 upon record all that has been written in any way deserving of regard 
 concerning him. 
 
 In speaking of these landscape painters, the writer observes, " It 
 is difficult to say which of these two great masters is most poetical. 
 Both have looked into nature, and seen her truly, but differently : 
 Gaspar Poussin loves the landscape before the sun is up, or after he 
 is set, or when heavy clouds only permit a bright beam to flash 
 through his dark foliage ; Claude must have sun, and light, and life. 
 His mornings are fresh, yet sparkling ; his day makes the shades of 
 his trees necessary for the eye and the imagination, and we dread the 
 moment when night must obscure his lovely evenings. From the 
 Trinita di Monte, all Claude's effects, and many of his subjects, may 
 be traced. From the little portico of his house, the view over the 
 vale of the Tiber, the fine lines of the Vatican, the Monte Mario, 
 
 I 
 
COMPARISON BETWEEN 
 
 and the Villa Medici, which he has introduced in many of his pic- 
 tures, are seen to peculiar advantage, both in the morning and 
 evening effect. Gaspar's compositions are often drawn from the 
 same source ; but his lights and colours seem to be more taken from 
 the massy walls and ruins of the city, where the Colliseum and the 
 Palatine require shadows, approaching to darkness, to soften the red 
 ruin into the verdant decorations with which time has adorned their 
 venerable summits. The picturesque beauty of Rome was truly felt 
 by these great painters, and excepting the backgrounds of Domeni- 
 chino, and those of Nicolo Poussin, scarcely any other has done it 
 justice. 
 
 " Of modern painters," continues the same author, " our coun- 
 tryman may perhaps rival these. Wilson painted views, and ani- 
 mated them by historic combinations and figures. Turner, before 
 he saw Italy, seems, by the imagination of genius, to have painted 
 the colour of the Campagna ; and among modern artists, resident at 
 Rome, in 1819, none but the English seemed truly to feel the value 
 of what surrounded them. The French, Germans, and Italians made 
 correct or imaginary views ; but, excepting the English, I never saw 
 the poetry of Rome painted."* 
 
 To the above shall be added the observations of another writer, 
 who, in treating of the use of accidents and the claro-oscuro in paint- 
 ing, draws his reader's attention to the respective compositions of 
 the two painters whose productions we have just been considering. 
 
 " The works of Gaspar," says this author, " contain examples 
 of great excellence in this part of the art ; a comparison between the 
 prints of his works and those of Claude, which, being without colour, 
 will show the superiority of the former to the tame and almost in- 
 sipid gradation of the latter, who, depending upon colouring, in 
 which he greatly excelled, never ventured to introduce, and proba- 
 bly did not feel, those almost electrical effects caused by the skilful 
 
 * Life of Nicolas Poussin, by Mrs. Graham. 
 
MOHTE CAVAI.LO, ROME . 
 
 WITH THE COI.OSSAl, STATIIES BY PHIDIAS AlTD PRAjnTEI.ES__sl P1--.TF.RS IN THE DISTANC 
 lonMrmfiLHyM. XI,.,:'J. JSse- bt, W.B. Otokt ZJfbOuig BiU (h-oye. X^lunn^torv. 
 
Rembramdl.pmx' - H.C Ma^lliie litli 
 
 n'A il^ [E 1^ A lUV 
 
 CONNOISStUR, N° 13, MONTH LY RECORD Of THE TINE ARTS, MUSIC &THE. DKAMAr 
 
 Printed by Suuuianl llcC° 7, foland Si 
 
CLAUDE LORRAINE AND GASPAR POUSSIN. 
 
 59 
 
 management of sudden bursts of light, as treated by Gaspar Poussin, 
 Rembrant, Rubens, Wilson, and other great masters." * 
 
 What has been said in the foregoing observations, respecting 
 the comparison of the prints after Claude, with those engraved from 
 the works of Gaspar Poussin, as exhibiting their respective effects in 
 their management of light and shade, may, with equal truth, be ad- 
 vanced, and, perhaps, in a still greater degree, in regard to those 
 from Wilson, who, in the chiaro-oscuro, it is not to be questioned, 
 surpassed almost every other landscape painter. 
 
 Another writer, who appears to have possessed much feeling for 
 the art, and who has, at the same time, displayed considerable 
 knowledge in his treatment of the subject, seems to have entertained 
 similar opinions respecting the merits of Claude with those expressed 
 in the article preceding. 
 
 " Claude," says he, " seems not to have availed himself of those 
 accidental shadows that result from the intervention of clouds, which 
 may be made to answer the best possible purposes, particularly in 
 open scenes, which can scarcely be made to tell without them ; pro- 
 bably those striking effects did not suit with the tranquillity of his 
 genius. In many of his pictures, and where, indeed, he has been 
 most successful in the choice of objects, grandeur is often destroyed 
 by the insipidity of the chiaro-oscuro. Many of his groups of trees 
 seem introduced as substitutes for masses of shade ; the same reason 
 has probably compelled him, as often as possible, to darken the fore- 
 ground. When such expedients are not employed, there will be 
 great danger of insipidity, as all the parts will be relieved dark off 
 dark ; that is, every object as it comes forward will be relieved by 
 its being stronger coloured, which will be the progress from the 
 remote distance to the foreground, and will be as tiresome to the 
 eye, as a monotonous discourse is to the ear. This sort of treatment 
 will by no means suit with the grand, where every means ought to 
 be used to raise the subject, and which can only be done by pro- 
 
 * Practice in Drawing and Painting in Water Colours, by F. Nicholson. 
 
 I 2 
 
gQ RUBENS. 
 
 ducing the most striking effect, so as to fix the mind to the picture 
 only. In this Rubens was particularly successful, by introducing 
 bursts of light, rainbows, storms, &c. so as violently to arrest the 
 mind of the spectator, making his picture carry with it an interest 
 beyond the mere mechanical representation of nature. This is not 
 the case with the more ordinary pictures, which only interest for the 
 touch, colour, or, as in some of the Dutch works, by the wonderful 
 shine of the kitchen utensils, the whole merit of which depends on 
 the closeness of the imitation, and this fixes the mind merely on the 
 painter, whose duty it should be, in the higher walks of the art, to 
 make the spectator forget him as much as possible in the contem- 
 plation of his labours. Some of our artists are so fond of execution, 
 that their handling attracts the attention even in subjects they mean 
 as efforts of the sublime. Woollet's print after Wilson will be worth 
 consulting for the fine light and shade."* 
 
 The Works of the late Edward Dayes. 
 
61 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 DIFFERENT ACCOUNTS PUBLISHED RESPECTING WILSON. SUPPLEMENT TO PILKINGTOn's 
 
 DICTIONARY OF PAINTERS AND ENGRAVERS. CAREy's THOUGHTS. ARCHITECTURAL 
 
 DECORATIONS. BRYAN's DICTIONARY. JEALOUSIES EXISTING AMONG ARTISTS IN 
 
 Wilson's time. — mr. field. — apology for wilson's deficiency in suavity of 
 
 MANNERS. comparison BETWEEN CLAUDE AND WILSON. 
 
 In the foregoing pages the writer has attempted to show in what the 
 true principles of landscape painting are admitted to consist, and has 
 made it appear, he is willing to hope, in a manner the most satis- 
 factory, that Wilson's pictures have been produced in conformity 
 with those principles. When we take into consideration the extra- 
 ordinary powers and attainments which the artist must necessarily 
 possess, in order to his being capable of producing such sublime and 
 inestimable productions, and the great difficulties which invariably 
 attend their accomplishment, we cannot but be sensible in what an 
 eminent degree we stand indebted to those distinguished painters 
 who have so meritoriously furnished them, and how justly worthy at 
 the same time their memory is of our highest veneration and 
 respect. Men of this description rarely in their life-time obtain that 
 reward, or that distinction, which their abilities entitle them to 
 receive; and in the unfortunate instance before us, we have a sad 
 proof to what an extent may be experienced the neglect and indif- 
 ference of the public ; and how, in a less enlightened age than this, 
 (for in such matters the public are ever guided by the opinions of a 
 few,) the most valuable works of art have been lightly esteemed, in 
 the production of pictures similar to which talents the most trans- 
 cendant and multiform, together with exertions the most strenuous 
 and unremitted, have, alone, the very slightest chance of being suc- 
 cessfully employed. 
 
Q2 DIFFERENT ACCOUNTS 
 
 To indulge in expressions of commiseration for the hard fate of 
 this individual, would tend to very little purpose ; all that remains 
 now to be done, is for us, who derive so much pleasure and ad- 
 vantage from his works, to be no longer backward in paying to the 
 memory of this great man that just tribute of our applause which it 
 was not his fate to enjoy. 
 
 As it is the writer's earnest desire in thus venturing to make up 
 in some measure for a deficiency so justly deserving of reproach, 
 and which, although it be universally acknowledged, he sees no 
 prospect of being otherwise supplied, since the contemporaries of 
 Wilson have now nearly all of them disappeared from the scene *, 
 he should be sorry that any thing were omitted, which might, in the 
 very slightest degree, contribute to set forth the value and excellence 
 of our great countryman's works ; and as his merits have been more 
 or less successfully pointed out in the writings of men eminently 
 distinguished by their pens, he will subjoin the various accounts 
 which have been offered to our notice, (with, perhaps, an occasional 
 observation or two of his own,) respecting this artist, as far, at least, 
 as he has been able to collect them ; in order to bring together, as 
 it were, into a focus, whatever might be judged worthy of repeti- 
 tion or record, on a subject so highly interesting to all real lovers of 
 the art. 
 
 The account of Wilson's life, given, as it has been supposed, 
 by his friend. Dr. Walcott, in the supplement to the new edition of 
 Pilkington's Dictionary of Painters, will be the first to be introduced. 
 
 " It may be said of this artist, * nil molitur inepte.' His taste 
 was so exquisite, and his eye so chaste, that whatever came from his 
 easel bore the stamp of elegance and truth. The subjects he chose 
 were such as did a credit to his judgment. They were the selections 
 of taste ; and whether of the simple, the elegant, or the sublime, 
 
 * As the late Mr. Farrington, a pupil of Wilson, was known to have collected 
 a considerable mass of materials concerning the artists of his time, it was generally ex- 
 pected that something respecting his master would have been given by him to the public, 
 and to which he had been very frequently urged by the entreaty of his friends. 
 
RESPECTING WILSON. 
 
 63 
 
 they were treated with equal felicity. Indeed he possessed that ver- 
 satility of power as to be one minute an eagle, sweeping the heavens, 
 and the next a wren, twittering a simple note on the humble thorn. 
 
 " His colouring was in general vivid and natural ; his touch 
 spirited and free ; his composition simple and elegant ; his lights and 
 shadows broad and well distributed ; his middle tints in perfect har- 
 mony, while his forms in general produced a pleasing expression. 
 
 " Wilson has been called the English Claude ; but how unjustly, 
 so totally different their style ! To draw a parallel between the two 
 artists, we should say that the Frenchman too often fatigues by the 
 detail ; he enters too far into the minutiae of nature ; — he painted 
 her littlenesses. Wilson, on the contrary, gives a breadth to nature? 
 and adopts only those features that more eminently attract attention. 
 Claude, proud of showing to the world the truth of his eye, in re^ 
 gard to aerial perspective, produces a number of petty parts, paltry 
 projections, such as hedges, banks, hillocks, &c. to prove his power 
 in a certain department of painting, which, though far from con- 
 temptible, is very distant from the higher order of the art. Claude 
 introduces at times groups of unmeaning and uninteresting figures, 
 while Wilson introduces a paucity, but such as are not only appro- 
 priate to the scene, but form a part of the composition. The mind 
 of Wilson was that of a classic ; the mind of Claude of a mechanic, 
 dead to the energies of classic sensibility. The pencil of Claude was 
 capable only of describing the general appearances of nature ; that of 
 Wilson to clothe them with elegance and grandeur. Claude, possess- 
 ing no abstract idea of beauty, was confined to the individual merit 
 of the scene ; Wilson, on the contrary, gifted with the charming 
 ideal, could fascinate by combination. Claude was a pretty simple 
 country girl ; Wilson was a beauty of a higher order, commanding 
 the graces, and uniting them to simplicity. Claude sometimes 
 painted grand scenes, but without a mind of grandeur ; Wilson, on 
 the contrary, could infuse a grandeur into the meanest objects ; Claude, 
 when he drew on the bank of his own ideas, was a mere castrato 
 in the art ; witness his landing of jEneas in Italy. How poverty- 
 
54 DIFFERENT ACCOUNTS 
 
 struck the scene ! — an enterprise destitute of motion, — a few clumsy 
 vessels, with a few figures, more resembling Dutch hoys, unlading at 
 a London wharf, than ships arriving with an army to form the Roman 
 empire, and give a race to immortality. Wilson, on the contrary, 
 was a Hercules. When his subject was grand, he clothed it with 
 thunder; witness his Celadon and Amelia, his Niobe, &c. To com- 
 pare their works that demanded imagination, were to draw a parallel 
 between strength and imbecility ; the two miserable statues of John- 
 son and Howard in St. Paul's cathedral, and the labours of Praxiteles. 
 Claude was rather the plain and minute historian of landscape ; Wil- 
 was the jjoet." 
 
 In " The Works of the late Mr. Edward Dayes," among other 
 " Professional Sketches of Modern Artists," are to be found the fol- 
 lowing observations, under the title of " Wilson," viz. 
 
 " This giant of the English school was very unfortunate in his 
 day, as many of the pictures that he sold for six or seven guineas, 
 now fetch fifty or sixty ; but his works are now better understood, 
 and will continue to be admired, whilst mind is considered as a test 
 of excellence in art. 
 
 " In the chiaro-oscuro and colour, he was all that Sir Joshua was ; 
 in both he was consummately skilled ; and in the former he sur- 
 passed every other landscape painter. The shadows are always broad 
 and massy. His forms are grand, majestic, and well selected ; and 
 his compositions are not encumbered with a multitude of parts, a 
 fault frequently observed in Claude, whose subjects often appear 
 studied, or, in other words, over-laboured, from the introduction of 
 too many beautiful parts. 
 
 " Wilson's compositions are grand, with a tone of colour truly 
 Titianesque, and a light and shade unequalled ; indeed it is a tribute 
 to the memory of Wilson, (and, perhaps, it were not improper to 
 add the Great,) to say, his colouring is always agreeable, and some- 
 times fine ; his compositions equal to most, and his light and shade 
 superior to any other landscape painter. 
 
RESPECTING WILSON. 55 
 
 " Among his most classical compositions, are to be ranked that 
 with the story of Meleager ; the Cejx and Alcyone, engraved by 
 Woollet; and the fine one of Niobe, by Smith." 
 
 The observations which follow, are selected from a small pub- 
 lication, entitled " Carey's Thoughts," printed at Manchester in 1808. 
 
 " If other great masters," says this writer, " possessed superior 
 advantages of education, Wilson enjoyed, in the highest degree, the 
 power of discrimination ; of seizing upon the grand features of 
 nature, and tinging them with the genuine hue of the hour and 
 season. His objects exhibit the largest forms ; his colouring and 
 effect, the simplest modifications, and the most expansive breadth, 
 compatible with veracity. In the materials of his composition, in 
 his mode of thinking, and of handling of his pictures, he differs 
 essentially from Claude ; but in the expression of the sun and air 
 he is equal to that artist, and often superior to every other master. 
 In whatever passed from his hand, whether a first lay-in tint upon 
 the canvass, a slight sketch, or a finished picture ; a local view, or a 
 grand composition ; the subordination of parts is perfect, the objects 
 are surrounded with atmosphere, and clothed in light. 
 
 " As the detail of local colours was incompatible with the breadth 
 of his masses, and the grandeur of his effect, in his superior com- 
 positions, his hues are general. But there is a freshness in the 
 shadowy verdure of his landscape, and a living glow in his skies, 
 which produce all the effect of detail upon the eye. 
 
 " In subjects purely local, with less grandeur, his colouring has 
 more sweetness, more attention to detail, and more variety. His 
 best pictures of this class, in touch, in lucid azure of the skies, and 
 in the dewy tints of the landscape, resemble the pictures of Zucarelli. 
 In other respects they are very different. No artist could give so 
 many charms to the lovely serenity of a rural scene, as that Italian ; 
 but beyond the soothing view of village or pastoral life, and the 
 cloudless tranquillity of a May-day, his bland imagination never 
 freely wandered. Although in the form of his trees, in ideas of 
 colour, and composition, Wilson varies materially from Titian and 
 
 K 
 
QQ ARCHITECTURAL DECORATIONS. 
 
 Rubens ; in decision of touch, and dauntless power of execution, he 
 is entitled to rank with those great masters. 
 
 " So perfect was his sense of colour and effect, so quick the im- 
 pression of the whole scene upon his eye, so voluble and full of 
 character his pencil, that his pictures appear as if they had been 
 produced without effort. In this he is superior to Claude, whose 
 toil is visible amidst all the beauty and sublimity of his effect; but 
 the power which gives birth to the grandeur and sublimity of Wil- 
 son is unseen. Such, indeed, is their charm in this respect, that 
 they appear to have been effected without toil or prior study, by a 
 single movement of his mind. I do not mean to imply that this 
 was the case, or that he did not study ; but that he had the rare 
 talent of so completely veiling his efforts, that in contemplating his 
 best pictures, we forget the painter. In the pictures on which he 
 exerted himself, he manifested a superior power ; but, it appears to 
 me, that his mind was not always on the stretch ; either he was 
 naturally indolent, or disgusted with the bad taste of the public, 
 which gave a preference to the Smiths of Chichester ; he occasionally 
 relaxed his exertions. 
 
 " That an artist who feels himself neglected, and his best works 
 disregarded or condemned, should occasionally become supine, and 
 retort neglect upon the public, by painting with less exertion of 
 mind and pencil, cannot be deemed very improbable ; accordingly, 
 some of his smaller pictures are of ordinary materials, and have little 
 to recommend them but the charms of his colour and the vivacity 
 of his pencil. 
 
 " In what may be called the learning of his art, architectural in- 
 troductions, ancient ruins, and classic embellishments, he is surpassed 
 by Gaspar and Nicolo Poussin, by Grimaldi Bolonese, the Carracci, 
 Domenichino, and by Claude. But this circumstance is no proof of 
 natural inferiority in Wilson. The majority of these artists began to 
 acquire that species of knowledge early, and they continued their 
 acquisitions through the whole of their course. They lived upon 
 classic ground, among a people who loved art, and honoured its pro- 
 
rORTDAIT BY MARTIN DKOESBOCI Ilf TIRSI TOLIO EDITION. 
 
ARCHITECTURAL DECORATIONS. 
 
 67 
 
 fessors ; and wherever they turned, the fairest remains of Grecian 
 and Roman art met their eyes. Urns and columns, statues, ruined 
 temples, theatres, and other public edifices, the noblest monuments 
 of ancient architecture, invited them to study, and furnished the 
 most splendid materials of success. 
 
 " Contemplating such objects continually, designing from them in 
 different views, and under every effect of light and shadow, they 
 every hour acquired a higher sense of the highest order of forms, or, 
 in the schoolboy's phrase, got them off by heart, and had them ready 
 at all times, to pour upon the canvass, in the moment of composition. 
 
 " If, in the celebrated passage from Shakspeare, we take away 
 
 ' The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
 The solemn temples,' 
 
 by so doing we strip 
 
 ' the gi'eat globe itself 
 
 of its grandeur, and the description loses its elevation. In the higher 
 class of landscape, the effect of architectuTal pomp is precisely the 
 same. Remove the ruined temples, palaces, and columns ; and you 
 strip the scene of its most solemn and imposing feature. You exhi- 
 bit a naked nature, which, however wild or grand, will have lost its 
 chief power over the heart. Let a person of taste examine the grand- 
 est landscapes of Nicolo Poussin, or any of the masters already 
 mentioned, and he will find that, like Shakspeare's 'great globe,' 
 they owe a main portion of their imposing loftiness to the buildings 
 with which they are decorated. 
 
 " Wilson did not enjoy any of these early advantages ; he had the 
 misfortune to be born in England, at a period when art was little 
 understood, and less encouraged. His early studies, too, as a portrait 
 painter, were unfavourable to his ultimate choice." 
 
 From some of the observationsxontained in the above criticism, 
 which, although they be written by an author possessing great know- 
 ledge in the science of virtu ; together with a real feeling for, as well 
 as admiration of, the works of our artist, I must entirely dissent. I 
 
 K 2 
 
68 
 
 ARCHITECTURAL DECORATIONS. 
 
 cannot, indeed, but be of opinion, that they have been penned, either 
 without due consideration, or through the want of a sufficiently ex- 
 tensive acquaintance with his works ; for, so numerous are the exam- 
 ples which might be adduced to prove, in the most satisfactory manner, 
 that the judgment here pronounced is not only very erroneous, but 
 in truth, actually devoid of any foundation ; that it seems difficult 
 to imagine how the writer, well acquainted as he shows himself to 
 be with Wilson's manner and style of painting, could have fallen 
 into so unaccountable an error. In order at once to evince the mis- 
 take into which this author appears to have been led, we need only 
 to inspect a few of our artist's well known subjects, most of which, as 
 they have been engraved, are in the hands of almost every collector. 
 We will, for example's sake, select from a great number that might be 
 named, the few following, viz. " The Phaeton," " The Apollo and the 
 Seasons," " View of Rome," " Niobe" " View in Italy," from all which 
 prints have been made ; " The Tomb of the Horatii and Curiatii," 
 " The Broken Bridge of Narni," in my own possession ; these, with a 
 vast number of others, contain the very finest "architectural introduc- 
 tions," such as the Colliseum, the Temple of the Sybil, the bridges, 
 and magnificent remains of aqueducts about Rome, &c., no less than 
 the greatest abundance and variety of tasteful and " classic embellish- 
 ments," such as urns, tombs, ruined columns, friezes, statues, bas- 
 reliefs, the latter of which especially are continually introduced by 
 Wilson with singular judgment and felicity into his foregrounds. 
 
 No person, perhaps, among professed connoisseurs, is allowed 
 to have possessed a more refined taste, a superior judgment, and, at 
 the same time, a more extensive knowledge of pictures, than the late 
 Mr. Bryan, author of the Dictionary of Painters and Engravers, a 
 highly valuable work, containing the most sound and able criticism ; 
 let us see only what this experienced observer says upon the sub- 
 ject in question ; and with such high authority on our side, nothing 
 further need be said in refutation of such groundless deficiency in 
 our countryman, who must for ever stand fairly acquitted of a 
 charge alleged against him, doubtless without due consideration. 
 
NOTICE OF WILSON FROM BRYAN'S DICTIONARY. 
 
 69 
 
 " His views in Italy," says Mr. Bryan, under the article 
 " Wilson," which will be noticed very shortly, " are selected with 
 judgment and taste ; and it has been justly observed that, in his pic- 
 tures, the waving line of mountains which bound the distance in 
 every point of view ; the dreary and inhospitable plains, rendered 
 solemnly interesting by the mouldering fragments of temples, tombs, 
 and aqueducts, are all indicated in a masterly manner, exhibiting that 
 local character which cannot but be considered as peculiarly grand 
 and classical." 
 
 Mr. Bryan, in his Dictionary of Painters and Engravers, after 
 enumerating various circumstances respecting the birth and family of 
 Wilson, particulars which have been noticed in the foregoing pages, 
 makes the following judicious observations, viz. 
 
 " The talents of Wilson did not secure to him that encourage- 
 ment and distinction which his abilities deserved. He was doomed 
 to encounter the galling indifference of a tasteless public, which was 
 probably aggravated by the jealousy and intrigues of some of the 
 most distinguished of his contemporaries, with whom he did not live 
 on very amicable terms. This also has been said to have partly 
 resulted from his own conduct, which was by no means distinguished 
 by a conciliatory disposition, or great suavity of manners. 
 
 " Conscious of his own powers, and disdaining to sue for pro- 
 tectors, his transcendant abilities were suffered to exert themselves 
 under the oppression of indigence and obscurity ; and participating 
 the destiny of many illustrious artists who had preceded him, the 
 beauty and value of his works were not discovered until death had 
 rendered him equally insensible of admiration or neglect."* 
 
 With respect to the jealousy and intrigues existing among the 
 artists in Wilson's time, there is, it is to be feared, too much truth in 
 what Mr. Bryan has said, and the writer would, indeed, feel himself 
 happy were it in his power, consistently with that impartiality which 
 fair and candid biography demands, to refrain altogether from the 
 
 * Bryan's Dictionary of Painters and Engravers. 
 
70 
 
 JEALOUSY EXISTING AMONG ARTISTS 
 
 mention of any thing connected with a subject so extremely un- 
 gracious. Unfortunately, however, such, alas ! is the frailty of human 
 nature, the most exalted characters are not always exempt from sen- 
 timents at once so unworthy and so very humiliating ; but, whatever 
 may have been the differences which existed between individuals, 
 upon whom one could wish to reflect with feelings of pleasure and 
 admiration alone, or upon what grounds such animosities may have 
 been raised, we have little reason to doubt, that in the much to be 
 lamented case before us, as is usual for the most part with others of 
 a similar kind, there certainly must have been " faults on both 
 sides." 
 
 As it generally happens that the weakest, unsupported, goes to 
 the wall, it would perhaps be little less than unfair to the memory 
 of him in whose behalf the author has professed to stand forward, 
 however painful, at the same time, it may prove to himself, were 
 he on this occasion to remain silent altogether ; and although he 
 entertains the very highest respect and veneration towards the char- 
 acter of Wilson's " most distinguished contemporary," and which, it is 
 hoped, the foregoing pages sufficiently testify, nevertheless, strict 
 justice demands that it be made to appear, however reluctantly, ac- 
 cording to the truth, that the former, depressed and cruelly neglected 
 as we see him to have been, was not, at least on one occasion, with- 
 out a sufficient cause for the absence, in a certain degree, of " a con- 
 ciliatory disposition." 
 
 In a small volume, from which have already been made several 
 extracts, will be found the following anecdote, viz. 
 
 " Wilson and Sir Joshua Reynolds were not on the most perfect 
 terms. When the president proposed to the Academicians to drink 
 the health of Gainsborough, as ' our best landscape paijite?-,' Wilson, 
 in his turn, retorted the health of Gainsborough, as ' our best portrait 
 painter.' Wilson was, however, liberal to his brother artists, and re- 
 verenced the powers of Wright of Derby highly."* This last-men- 
 
 * Carey's Thoughts. 
 
IN WILSON'S TIME. 
 
 71 
 
 tioned circumstance, it must be allowed, cannot but be considered as a 
 decisive proof of the liberality of Wilson's mind, that artist having 
 been at the very time a competitor, with greater success, though 
 possessed of far inferior abilities, in a similar branch of the art with 
 himself The anecdote related above was too generall}^ known at 
 the period when it occurred, and has been too much talked of since, 
 to admit a doubt of its being true. That it took place, however, on 
 so public an occasion as an academy dinner, there is every reason 
 for believing must be a mistake. 
 
 Since writing the foregoing particulars, the author has been 
 favoured with some further anecdotes, and other valuable information 
 respecting Wilson, and for which he stands indebted to Mr. Field ; a 
 gentleman, who besides his real fondness for the art, and the very high 
 respect he entertains for the subject of his obliging communication, 
 appears to have had all his life a most extensive acquaintance with 
 the artists of his day. As his account is interesting, and at the same 
 time occasionally accompanied with very suitable reflections, which 
 bespeak both a well informed mind and a truly benevolent feeling, 
 it can appear perhaps in no shape so well as in the writer's own 
 expressive and excellent words. For the extraordinary and polite 
 attention of this gentleman, the author feels himself most highly 
 indebted, and which is indeed deserving of his very warmest acknow- 
 ledgments, insomuch as neither pains or trouble appear to have been 
 spared in his friendly endeavours to procure information respecting 
 our artist, he having sought to obtain it in every possible quarter in 
 which there appeared the smallest chance of any thing of the kind 
 to be found. Artists, picture-dealers, colourmen, &c. &c., have all 
 been subject to the interrogatories of this most zealous and indefati- 
 gable friend. 
 
 " Wilson," observes this gentleman, " was conscious of his 
 merits, and not of the most bending disposition, with a mind well 
 cultivated. It may be questioned, therefore, after all, whether he did 
 not become a martyr to a principle of disdaining to humble himself 
 
>72 COMMITTEE OF TASTE. 
 
 to those, however superior to himself in rank or riches, who measure 
 by inches, and value by pounds. He returned from Italy, impressed 
 with his own powers, and in some contempt, not perhaps totally 
 unmerited, of his contemporaries. His return excited some interest, 
 and much criticism in the coteries of art, at that time ; and those 
 artists, &c., who then constituted themselves what they called a Com- 
 mittee of Taste, and led the understanding of the public in art, sat in 
 judgment several times upon him, and came to a resolution, pur- 
 porting — That the manner of Mr. Wilson was not suited to the English 
 taste, and that if he hoped for patronage he must change it for the 
 lighter style of Zucarelli. They voted also, in friendliness to Mr. W., 
 that Mr. Penny (the academician who painted a fac-simile of the 
 Death of Wolfe, &c.) should be deputed to communicate the reso- 
 lution to Mr. W., which was done accordingly. Wilson, who was 
 painting at the time, heard it in silence, went on with his work, but 
 soon turned round, and very coolly, and in the most contemptuous 
 manner, gave such an answer to Mr. Penny, as sufficiently showed 
 the thorough indifference in which he held this self-constituted 
 Committee of Taste. 
 
 " Notwithstanding the contempt which he showed for this deci- 
 sion upon the merit of his works, Wilson is said to have taken the 
 hint in improving his style; a strong proof of the power of his 
 judgment colliding against the hard substance of his temperament 
 and prejudice, for he had looked with partiality at the sombre Rem- 
 brandt. The committee struck a light, and Wilson made a constel- 
 lation of it. It showed that gentle usage might have tamed the lion, 
 and conferred the fame of an Orpheus upon some happy patron. 
 Unhappy, indeed, is the man, however exalted his rank, who, having 
 the power and opportunity, wants the judgment to smoothen the way 
 of a Wilson. 
 
 " Alas ! he was too great to grovel ; he felt that the paltry dis- 
 tinctions of fortune sunk into contempt before the riches of the 
 mind. Pie wanted that yielding spirit which is due from the indi- 
 
m,h:„.nii.hfkrj, hy CJwrUt ¥mg}iL-JMtlffatf ■■^nrrt. Si Fail, M,MT„ifl 
 
K 
 
ANECDOTES OF WILSON. 73 
 
 vidual to the order of* society and his own happiness, and disre- 
 garded the sober conformity of his better judgment to the ways of 
 the world. 
 
 " Upon this fatal reply to the message of the committee may 
 have greatly depended the ill success of his future endeavours, to 
 which he became a martyr. The members opposed him with his 
 patrons, which, added to his spurning, rather than conciliating, the 
 esteem of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the want of the better judgment 
 in society which now prevails, proved fatal to him. 
 
 " As the fortunes of Wilson declined (I had it from one who, 
 when living, knew him intimately,) his manners and language became 
 o-ross and depraved ; of which his appearance, as he grew old, par- 
 took. His nose became very large and red, so much so, that boys 
 in the street would call after him * Nosct/,' with which he was 
 greatly annoyed. 
 
 " These adverse points in the person and character of Wilson, 
 arose probably from a degradation as naturally attendant upon sink- 
 ing into poverty, as their antagonist vices are upon the degenerating 
 influence of extreme riches ; and are too salutary and instructive to 
 be lost sight of morally, even in the character of the most eminent. 
 
 " Old Mr. Taylor, who copied the portrait after Mengs, under 
 Wilson's own eye, says it was the custom, according to the sociable 
 manner of the day, for himself, Wilson, Hayman, Dr. Chauncey, 
 and other artists and gentlemen attached to literature and art, to 
 hold a meeting or club at the Turk's Head, in Gerrard Street, at 
 which half a pint of wine was the allowance, and it was never ob- 
 served that Wilson (however irregular on other occasions) was to be 
 tempted to exceed this quantity. It was here that Hayman, one 
 evening, rallying Wilson, by assigning to him the palm of dissolute- 
 ness, was retorted upon by Dr. Chauncey, to whom he had appealed, 
 by the reply, ' It must be confessed, Hayman, that what you say of 
 Wilson would be true, if we put yourself out of the question.' 
 
 - " The Turk's Head, in Gerrard Street, was celebrated for two 
 clubs or societies, the one literary, the other of artists ; and Wilson 
 
 L 
 
•74 ANECDOTES OF WILSON 
 
 would, in his characteristic manner, point out to a brother artist any 
 unknown member of the former, wlio chanced to pass, by whisper- 
 ing, ' There goes one of the Sapientia.' Trivial as such expressions 
 may appear, they are indicative of the character and manner of the 
 man — they are often free notices of internal feeling. 
 
 " At one of the meetings at the Turk's Head, Cosway, the Aca- 
 demician, who had been at court, attended in all the gay costume of 
 the drawing-room, with pink heels to his shoes, &c., but the room 
 was so full he could not find a place. ' What,' said Frank Hay man, 
 ' can nobody make room for the little monkey ?' Wilson laughed, 
 and exclaimed, ' Good G — d ! how times and circumstances are 
 changed ; sure, the world is turned topsy-turvy, — formerly, the mon- 
 key rode the bear, but here we have the bear upon the monkey.' 
 This set the table in a roar, in which Hayman joined heartily, and 
 rising, shook hands with Cosway, who received him with the greatest 
 familiarity and politeness, and instantly every chair in the room waS 
 at his service. 
 
 " Does not this speak volumes in favour of the feelings of all 
 parties? Is it not the way to that communion of minds, which, by 
 gentle collision, promotes the polish, and sharpens the wits, of man ? 
 Oppose it to our refinement in manners; — how miserable is the 
 contrast of that morbid military sensibility and barbarous politeness, 
 which puts down collision of mind, and might, in the above case, 
 have deprived society of the lives and talents of two worthy men ? 
 
 " Of another class was the satire of Zoffani, in his picture of the 
 Royal Academy, in which he introduced portraits of all the aca- 
 demicians, and a no very favourable one of Wilson, with a pot of 
 porter by him. Wilson accordingly treated it in a different way, 
 by taking a stick, and swearing he would give Zoffani a sound 
 thrashing ; and he would have kept his word, if Zoffani had not 
 prudently painted it out. 
 
 " Wilson's pupil, Mr. Jones, having invited him to view a large 
 landscape he had painted, Wilson went to see it. ' Well, Mr. Jones,' 
 said Wilson, ' what have you been doing?' ' Here is my picture, 
 
I 
 
Entfravtd hv JiidJry mmi an t'tn/nnif hv Sir William Rrrthn-. 
 
 
 
COLLECTED BY MR. FIELD. ^ 75 
 
 Sir,' replied Jones. ' Stole my temple, Mr. Jones,' said Wilson. 
 ' Do you think it too dark, Mr. Wilson ?' enquired Jones. * Black 
 enougli of all conscience, Mr. Jones,' replied Wilson. ' Good morn- 
 ing, Mr. Jones,' and away he went; for Jones's sacrilege had offended 
 him. 
 
 " Sir William Beechey, as he himself has informed me, having on 
 one occasion invited Wilson to dine ; before he consented, he thus 
 sounded his way. — ' You have some daughters, Mr. Beechey ?' 
 ' Yes, Sir.' ' Well, do they draw ? All the young ladies learn to 
 draw now.' ' No, Sir, they are musical.' This was very well ; 
 his rough honesty dreaded an exhibition of performances in his art, 
 which might place him in the dilemma of praising untruly, or con- 
 demning offensively ; and the heart cannot but applaud his motive. 
 Sir Joshua, with more gentlemanly humanity and less rigid moral- 
 ity, got out of the dilemma on such occasions, by uniformly saying, 
 ' Very pretty ! very pretty !' Hard, indeed, and frequent are those 
 cases, in which a man cannot make his conscience comport truly with 
 his humanity ; hence we may often pardon the weakness, while we 
 condemn the motive ; something is to be conceded to the imperfec- 
 tion of our nature. 
 
 " At other times of his visiting Sir W. Beechey, which he fre- 
 quently did of an evening, he would rarely take any thing more than 
 a sandwich, without wine or ardent spirit ; but if a tankard of porter, 
 with a toast in it, were placed before him, it was irresistible, and he 
 would partake of it when he had refused every thing else, but not to 
 excess. On these occasions he said very little. 
 
 " Sir William thinks the portrait by Mengs must have been very 
 like him, when younger. Afterwards his nose grew very large, and 
 that and his chin very red, so much so, as to attract notice in the 
 street, to avoid which, he walked with a handkerchief to his face. 
 His lips were thin and compressed. 
 
 " Mr. Newman, the colourman, recollects him well, and supplied 
 him with pencils and brushes ; but of these very few were sufficient ; 
 for the mechanism of Wilson's painting was extremely simple, and 
 
 L 2 
 
76 
 
 ANECDOTES OF WILSON 
 
 his colours few. With these, and one pencil only, he painted stand- 
 ing, made a touch or two, and then walked to the window to refresh 
 his eye, which was extremely delicate, and critically nice for colour. 
 I have this account of his painting principally from Sir William 
 Beechey, who has often seen him paint, and to whom he was par- 
 ticularly attached during the latter years of his life. Sir William, 
 with his wonted good-humour, not only described by words, but 
 acted his manner at the easel. 
 
 " In painting he frequently receded from his picture to view it, 
 and he one day drew Sir William Beechey by the arm to the further 
 corner of the room, observing, ' This is where you should view a 
 painting, with your eyes, and not with your nose.' ' And there, 
 indeed,' said Sir William, ' the effect was prodigious ;' for at this 
 time his sight and touch were declining, and he painted coarsely. 
 He did not, however, paint from feeling only, he had principles which 
 actuated his hand to the last, which he would not communicate ; 
 they were to be sought, like those of nature, in his practice, and 
 from his performances. He was taciturn and sententious, and though 
 not of gentle speech or demeanour, and although disappointed and 
 soured in mind, he did not indulge in calumny, nor question the 
 dispensations of Providence ; which denotes in him a natural bene- 
 volence of heart. 
 
 " He had a clear and confident presentiment that posterity would 
 do him justice, and often told Sir W. Beechey he would live to see 
 when Barret's pictures (which were then in high esteem) would fetch 
 nothing, and that great prices would be given for his own. 
 
 " Sir William says he thinks he might have starved, if the situa- 
 tion of librarian to the Royal Academy, to which he did honour by 
 his education and abilities, had not been conferred upon him. It 
 was worth about fifty pounds per annum, and his manner of living 
 was very poor, and not at all beyond it. 
 
 " Previously to his finally leaving London, which took place in 
 consequence of the death of his brother, who left him an estate, on 
 which it turned out there was a lead mine, he went to take leave of 
 
COLLECTED BY MR. FIELD. 
 
 77 
 
 Sir William, and though he was in pretty good spirits at the pros- 
 pect of comfort before him, his faculties and health were much im- 
 paired, and he put his hands on each side of his back, in which he 
 suffered at the time, and, with a shake of the head, said, very ex- 
 pressively, ' Oh, these back settlements of mine !' 
 
 " He was anxious and in haste to get into the country, but the 
 journey proved an effort beyond his age and infirmities, which, aided, 
 perhaps, by the sudden burst of the warm radiance of his setting sun 
 upon the gloom of his past day, was too much for him, and he lived 
 only to enjoy the satisfaction (for such all men feel it) of laying his 
 bones in his native country with the decencies of affluence about him, 
 and a rising generation ready to strew flowers, and sing a requiem to 
 his remains. 
 
 " When distress compelled Wilson to sell drawings which he had 
 executed, at half a crown apiece, Paul Sanby paid him for a great 
 number with a juster estimation of their worth, and with a liberality 
 creditable to his memory and feelings as an artist. 
 
 " A few shillings purchased, in Drury Lane, all the implements 
 and relics of the art and property of this inestimable artist. 
 
 " I have heard many anecdotes respecting Wilson, previously to 
 those which I have lately obtained," continues Mr. Field, " but do 
 not remember them very distinctly : unfortunately Freebairn, and 
 several of his pupils, with whom I was acquainted, have followed 
 their master out of a world adorned with all conceivable beauties, 
 and goods innumerable, though disregarded, and dispensed in vain 
 in behoof of folly and ingratitude. It is pleasing to sustain, even 
 temporarily, any thing relating to one who felt so natively, and 
 knew how to generalise one class of these beauties so admirably, as 
 Wilson, who was himself an eminent instance of the above position ; 
 since his excellence surpassed that of all preceding artists in his de- 
 partment, and yet the society he adorned was nearly insensible to 
 merits, and ungratefully rejected the man and his works. Never- 
 theless, he has raised a school of landscape painters in this country 
 that will bear the palm from the world ; and it is due to the late Dr. 
 
•yg ANECDOTES OF WILSON. 
 
 Walcott to state, that we owe the present reputation of Wilson's 
 works to his discernment and enthusiastic admiration of them. 
 
 " It is worthy of observation," continues this intelHgent gentle- 
 man, " that none of Wilson's pupils* caught the manner of the 
 master, and yet a school has arisen which strongly partakes of it, of 
 which the drawings of my early acquaintance, the generous and 
 giddy Tom Girtin is an eminent instance. 
 
 "The admirable Calcott and Mr. Turner may be said to be of 
 the same school, as may also the train of eminent landscape draughts- 
 men of the present day. 
 
 " Is not this," observes Mr. Field, " a strong presumption that 
 the spirit of mind is to be kindled in minds of kindred spirits only, 
 and not to be communicated by the touch or hand of the master 
 himself? 
 
 " I don't know if it has appeared in print, but the tale has often 
 been told, that when Gainsborough came to London, the mentioning 
 by Sir Joshua, in presence of Wilson, at the Turk's Head, that the 
 first landscape painter in England was come to town, was sarcastically 
 answered by Wilson, ' you mean the best portrait painter^ Sir Joshua ;' 
 the story is a strong evidence, at least, of the merits of Gainsborough. 
 
 " Though Wilson could not in general bear to hear Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds named with approbation as a painter, yet he is known to 
 have relaxed this severity of his prejudice when under the influence 
 of gratitude to Sir Joshua, for his having procured him an order, by 
 his recommendation, to paint two pictures for a nobleman ; — a con- 
 duct, on each side, worthy of the hearts of these great artists." 
 
 Such are the particulars furnished by this very able and interesting 
 writer. The author could, indeed, were he so inclined, add to the above 
 a variety of sore and bitter reflections, which have come to his know- 
 ledge, as having been thrown out between the hostile parties in 
 their day ; but he refrains from the mention of any thing further 
 
 * For the names of some of Wilson's pupils, vide Appendix C. 
 
iugraved bv I Engleheart . 
 
APOLOGY FOR WILSON'S MANNERS. 
 
 79 
 
 respecting so unpleasant a subject, upon the consideration, that such 
 littlenesses, unbecoming as they are of great and liberal minds, are 
 to be looked upon as belonging only to the weakness of our nature, 
 and, as such, far better buried in oblivion. And there let them rest, 
 nor further let us seek, 
 
 " To draw their frailties from their dread abode." Gray. 
 
 That Wilson may not have been distinguished by the suavity 
 of his manners, or the refinement of his address, there is, it is im- 
 possible to be denied, every reason to believe. We cannot, however, 
 but be of opinion, that had the works of our artist been fortunate 
 enough to have obtained that notice which they so well deserved, 
 instead of " the galling indifference they were doomed to en- 
 counter," he, himself, by a more favourable introduction into the 
 world, might have reaped those advantages which polished society 
 affords, and in which the plebeian roughness of his character must 
 naturally have become softened and refined. For with an intellect 
 active and elevated like his, we may rest assured, that materials pro- 
 ductive of observation and improvement in every way, and those of 
 no ordinary kind, must necessarily have been as inherent in him, 
 as they are usually found to be in the generality of men. May it 
 not then be fairly concluded, that these very materials were remain- 
 ing dormant only, and unused, merely because they never had been 
 properly called forth, occasioned by the lamentable want of that 
 fostering hand, and that conciliating encouragement, which pros- 
 perity, arising from success, especially in intellectual pursuits, seldom 
 fails to command ? For it does not appear, from any thing that the 
 writer has been able to discover concerning him, that Wilson was 
 by nature deficient in the kindlier affections, or in gentleness of dis- 
 position ; what impediment, therefore, may it be asked, could there 
 possibly have been to his deriving the same degree of profit from 
 the society of men, versed in the manners of the world, and to his 
 having attained the same refinement, supposing the experiment to 
 have been tried, as that which we every day witness in our other 
 
gQ APOLOGY FOR WILSON'S DEFICIENCY 
 
 artists ? And what was there, allowing the advantages and the op- 
 portunities to have been the same, which should have prevented him 
 from acquiring manners equally polished with those of a Reynolds, 
 a Lawrence, or a Shee? Most assuredly, there could have been no 
 impediment at all. 
 
 Let us not then impute to Wilson as a crime, imperfections, 
 which so far from being the consequence of any natural deficiency 
 or perversion of mind, were, as it very evidently appears, the result 
 of those peculiar circumstances only under which it was his misfor- 
 tune to be placed ; and which, as we all very well know, the advan- 
 tages of polished society alone can at any time be expected to 
 remove. 
 
 And yet, after all, from every enquiry the author has been able 
 to make, either from books or from persons now living, who were 
 acquainted with Wilson, it would seem, that the complaints so fre- 
 quently urged against him on account of his manner and behaviour, 
 have reference to that period of life only (Wilson was ten years older 
 than Sir Joshua Reynolds) when, bowed down by misfortune, his 
 spirit was broken and his energies subdued. 
 
 Of his demeanour at an earlier age, when, aspiring to fame, for- 
 tune held out to him the flattering prospect of success, nothing in 
 the shape of authenticity, beyond what we already know, appears 
 likely now to be ascertained. We have it, however, on good author- 
 ity, as noticed in the early part of this memoir, that Wilson asso- 
 ciated with good company during the time that he resided at Rome, 
 and that with Vernet, who was a man of polish, and much noticed 
 by the great, he was certainly on intimate terms ; from which cir- 
 cumstances alone, we may very fairly infer, that his manners had not 
 been always repulsive, or his behaviour morose and austere. What, 
 in fact, will not the accumulated pressure of miscarriage, mortification, 
 and stern poverty effect, upon a mind even of a much less sensitive 
 cast ? Or how can it be supposed possible for any human being, 
 though possessed of the very firmest resources which philosophy is 
 able to supply, to maintain a temper at all times serene and un- 
 
IN SUAVITY OF MANNERS. 
 
 81 
 
 ruffled, when preyed upon by the irritating feehngs which a long 
 and painful series of unmerited disappointments and cruel neglect 
 could not fail to produce ; and which, as has been shown, every day 
 occurrences, as unlooked for as they were vexatious and undeserved, 
 conspired only to kindle and sustain ? 
 
 When it is taken into consideration, that all these various hard- 
 ships and aggravating circumstances were incessantly acting upon a 
 mind no less elevated than refined, fully conscious, at the same time, 
 of the superiority and extent of the powers it possessed, we can 
 hardly be surprised that the spirit of the man was subdued, that his 
 dignity became degraded, and his very nature debased. 
 
 More, it may possibly be thought, has been said upon this sub- 
 ject than the occasion might require, though not more, the writer 
 is willing to hope, than is justified by the merits of the case. Feeling 
 so thoroughly convinced, that the treatment which, in his lifetime, 
 this distinguished artist experienced from the ungrateful public of 
 the day, was no less unjust, than it was aggravating and unkind, 
 the author cannot answer it to himself, now that he has ventured 
 upon so important and so responsible a task, as that in which he is 
 at present engaged, to allow that the memory of one so well born, 
 so well educated, and, at his first setting out, so well introduced into 
 the world, — one whom we know to have been most diligent in the 
 pursuit after that excellence to which he so eminently attained, — 
 without having, at the same time, any known vice or immorality 
 laid to his charge, should be handed down to posterity as a " misan- 
 thrope," — "a cynic," — "a porter-drinker," — "a coarse man, 
 whom one would take for the landlord of a public-house," — a 
 " mine host," &c. &c. ; — this indeed would be most unpardonable 
 and unfair. 
 
 Instead, therefore, of passing an opinion too hasty or incon- 
 siderate, respecting a character so much deserving of our commi- 
 seration, it will be far more becoming in us, while we look upon his 
 failings in a less unfavourable and rather in a compassionate point 
 of view, to ascribe, as we most justly may, that harshness of demean- 
 in 
 
82 
 
 COMPARATIVE STATEMENT. 
 
 our, which has been complained of, to its only true and very obvious 
 cause ; viz. to that same " galling indifference," as Mr. Bryan ex- 
 presses it, and that ungrateful neglect, which it was his sad lot to 
 experience from tlie undiscerning public of the day. To sum up all, 
 we may, with the strictest justice, say of this most distinguished, 
 though very unfortunate artist, in the words of our immortal bard, 
 that 
 
 " He was a man, setting his fate aside, 
 
 Of comely virtues." Timon of Athens. 
 
 As the names of Wilson and Sir Joshua Reynolds have been 
 so very frequently coupled together in the course of this work, the 
 author will add a short comparative statement respecting them ; for, 
 though his readers are well aware of these painters having been con- 
 temporaries, they may not, perhaps, be acquainted with the peculiar, 
 and somewhat curious, coincidence of circumstances belonging to 
 them, as set forth in the following particulars : — 
 
 Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 Born - - - - 1723 
 
 Went to Italy - 1749 
 Remained in Italy 3 years. 
 
 Returned to England - - 1752 
 
 Died, aged 69 - 1792 
 
 WILSON. 
 
 Born - - - - 1713 
 
 Went to Italy - - - 1749 
 Remained in Italy 6 years. 
 
 Returned to England - - 1755 
 
 Died, aged 69 - . . 1782 
 
 But to proceed with Mr. Bryan's account of our artist. 
 
 " In the Supplement to Pilkington's Dictionary of Painters, 
 published in 1798," continues this writer, " a prejudiced and an 
 absurd parallel is drawn between the works of Claude Lorraine and 
 those of Wilson, whilst it is, at the same time, admitted that their 
 
PICTURES REPEATED BY WILSON. 
 
 83 
 
 styles were so different, that no comparison of them can be justly 
 made. The slightest inspection of his works will convince us of the 
 originality of his style. In his studies in Italy, he wisely avoided all 
 imitation of the artists of that country, who had preceded him, and 
 he adopted a manner peculiarly his own, which was not less original 
 than varied and interesting. His views in Italy are selected with 
 judgment and taste, and it has been justly observed, ' that in his pic- 
 tures, the waving line of mountains which bound the distance in every 
 point of view ; the dreary and inhospitable plains, rendered solemnly 
 interesting by the mouldering fragments of temples, tombs, and aque- 
 ducts, are all indicated in a masterly manner, exhibiting that local 
 character which cannot but be considered as peculiarly grand and 
 classical.'* 
 
 " In his English pictures he is particularly successful in the fresh 
 and dewy brightness he has given to his verdure ; and though being 
 sometimes employed to paint particular views which were less pic- 
 turesque than he would have selected, and consequently partook of 
 the formality of portraiture, they are always treated with taste and 
 ingenuity. For the satisfaction of collectors, it may not be impro- 
 per to notice his frequent repetition of the same subject or view, as 
 there are several of his pictures which he has repeated three or four 
 times, with little or no variation ; a circumstance which has, some- 
 times, given rise to a suspicion of the originality of some of his 
 works, which are really the production of his pencil." f 
 
 Among those pictures which more particularly furnish examples 
 of such repetitions, may be mentioned the following, viz. " Speculum 
 Dianse, or The Lake of Nemi ;" " Cicero's Villa ;" " Solitude ;" 
 " Maecenas's Villa " Niobe ;" the large black rock, with a cross 
 upon it, at the foot of which are figures at worship, engraved by 
 Roberts ; " Sion House," on the Thames ; " Phaeton ;" a " River 
 Scene," in which is introduced a white cow among the trees on the 
 
 * This quotation by Mr. Bryan is from Edwards's Anecdotes of Painters, 
 t Bryan's Dictionary of Painters and Engravers. 
 
 M 2 
 
PICTURES REPEATED BY WILSON. 
 
 left side. An example of the subject last mentioned is to be seen in 
 Lord Grosvenor's collection, in London, and is entitled, a " View on 
 the River Dee." Of several of the former, the author has seen, he 
 believes he may almost venture to assert, as many as four or five, if 
 not even six different repetitions by Wilson. 
 
85 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 WINE AND WALNUTS. EXHIBITION OF WILSON's PICTURES AT THE BRITISH INSTITUTION. 
 
 ARTICLE IN THE SUN NEWSPAPER. VALUE OF FIGURES IN LANDSCAPE. WILSON 
 
 NOT ALWAYS NEGLIGENT IN THE MANAGEMENT OF HIS FOREGROUNDS. ESSENTIAL 
 
 DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIS PICTURES AND THOSE OF CLAUDE. COMPARISON BET\yEEN 
 
 VIRGIL AND OVID. INCE CASTLE. LADY FORD's COLLECTION OF WILSONS. DR. 
 
 WALCOTT. — PICTURE FAINTED BY WILSON FOR THE LATE KING. BENEVOLENCE OF 
 
 HIS LATE MAJESTY. HIS PATRONAGE OF THE ARTS. PORTRAIT OF WILSON. 
 
 In an interesting and highly entertaining pubhcation, entitled " Wine 
 and Walnuts, or After-Dinner Chit-Chat," and which has appeared 
 since the foregoing pages were written, may be found the following 
 particulars relating to Wilson : — 
 
 " Richard Wilson, — alas ! the greatest genius, the least un- 
 derstood ! 
 
 " Wilson was a man of superior education, and of a good fa- 
 mily. He was always addressed by Lord Camden as cousin Wilson, 
 being related to that great judge by the mother's side. 
 
 " Richard Wilson and Willy Thomson (an organist, who kept a 
 music shop in Exeter 'Change) were great cronies. The cheerful 
 music-seller was not much hurried, as Frank Hayman was wont to say 
 of many ingenious wights in his day, whose talents were neglected, 
 or who, in short, had little business. Hence his fireside was a solace 
 to the misanthropic painter, than whom no mortal of his transcendent 
 talent had ever greater cause to complain. Perhaps it is injustice to 
 his memory to write him down misanthrope; certainly he became a 
 cynic — and who but must lament the cause? 
 
 " Wilson was one of those rare geniuses who appear formed to 
 develop the almost hidden excellence of every science : his manners 
 were austere, and unbending to his superiors in rank ; for he unfor- 
 tunately lived when his lofty conceptions of art surpassed the com- 
 
 V 
 
86 
 
 EXTRACT FROM " WINE AND WALNUTS." 
 
 prehension of liis compeers, which inducing indifference and neglect 
 of his extraordinary talents, naturally begot an asperity in his proud 
 mind. But he was urbane to every ingenious man, whether a pro- 
 fessor of a liberal science or skilful mechanic ; and neglected talent 
 could always draw largely upon his sympathies. Thomson was a 
 man exactly suited to his taste : he was humorous, good-tempered, 
 and recherche in his own profession ; and being, as is said before, not 
 much hurriedi Wilson, when under the influence of the spleen, would 
 quit his easel, and march off to Exeter 'Change, where, under cover 
 of Thomson's stall, he would sit and moralise on the evil dispensations 
 of the Fates to men of mind. 
 
 " Sometimes, when a propitious star disposed a connoisseur to 
 look in upon him and purchase one or two of his easel pictures, he 
 would dress himself in his best suit, and proceed to old Pinche's, the 
 Black Horse, near Somerset House barracks, and order some well- 
 cooked dish, (Scotch collops was one of his favourites,) and return 
 to the 'Change, where I have seen him warming the bright pewter 
 plates on the top of Thomson's German stove, whilst the organist, 
 to use his own phrase, * composed the salad.' ' Let me see,' said he, 
 as the waiter delivered the materials, for Wilson liberally provided 
 every necessary on these occasions, ' there is the thema,' placing the 
 endive and celery on a plate ; 'there's for the majors,' pouring the 
 vinegar into the bowl ; ' and there the minors,' as he opened the 
 Florence flask ; then stirring the egg, he would hum an air, and talk 
 of ' tone and semi-tone ; and holding the mustard, and looking at 
 his patron, ' beg to know if he liked a bold diapason !' When 
 mixing the contrariety of ingredients, he would conclude with a bow 
 to Wilson, singing the old madrigal, ' Sweet Harmony !' Garrick 
 happening to call on one of these occasions, observed, ' As I came 
 along I saw Thomson tuning the painter into a moral concord.' 
 These were high treats to the parties ; for there they sat, drinking 
 cold punch and smoking, until the nine o'clock bell put an end to 
 their conclave, and rung them out of 'Change. 
 
EXTRACT FROM " WINE AND WALNUTS." 
 
 87 
 
 " I remember passing a Christmas-eve with Garrick, Wilson, and 
 Arne, in this snug book-shop, with unusual pleasure. I was dining 
 with my cousin in Beaufort Buildings, when I received a note from 
 Thomson, ' praying that I would, if convenient, look in about eight, 
 and I might find a friend,' enjoining me to let the call appear acci- 
 dental. My friends kindly allowed me to depart. I recollect it was 
 a deep snow ; but I had but a few steps to go, when, on entering the 
 wicket of the old Exchange, (for the great gate was closed on account 
 of the cold, and only a small door left open at each end,) I was struck 
 with the place, which looked uncommonly cheerful, as I cast my eye 
 along the avenue of stalls, with the candles and lamps glistening 
 on the bright red berries of the shining holly, with which each petty 
 dealer in this mart of multifarious wares had liberally decked his 
 allotment. 
 
 " Arrived in front of Thomson's, I stopped to turn over a copy 
 of Williams's Psalmody, which was ready opened at the Christmas 
 anthem — ' Behold, I bring you glad tidings,' when a voice that I had 
 never heard, from a visage that I had never seen (as I thought), peep- 
 iqg between the sprigs of Jiolly^ familiarly accosted me with ' The 
 compliments of the season. Sir; how does your good old uncle?' 
 and before I could recover from my surprise, added, ' Will you walk 
 in, Mr. Hardcastle, and do as we do ?' The strangeness of the voice, 
 and the odd gesticulations of this unknown, attracted the momentary 
 attention of the passengers, when Thomson thrust forward his good- 
 natured face, and beckoned me in. He opened the hatch at the end 
 of his stall, in the corner behind the eastern gate, and I entered ; 
 when I was agreeably surprised to find Garrick, Arne, and Wilson, 
 crowded over a little table, with some of Garrick's choice wine before 
 them, which he had sent in a basket for the occasion. I had often 
 heard of this humour of Roscius's, but could scarcely have credited 
 that the alteration of voice and visage could have been so complete, at 
 the will of that extraordinary player." 
 
 Among other witticisms mentioned by this amusing writer, are 
 the following, which, if they be not actually true, are at least highly 
 
gg EXTRACT FROM " WINE AND WALNUTS." 
 
 characteristic of the parties concerned. Dr. Johnson, Sterne, Wilson, 
 and Goldsmith, are supposed to be assembled at Garrick's, with a 
 party of ladies, for supper, and whom the gentlemen had kept 
 waiting. 
 
 " ' We were very lively at your expense, indeed. Gentlemen,' 
 said Mrs. Garrick. The two Misses****, and some others, all 
 young, beautiful, and unmarried, joined in the diversion. • Shall I 
 tell?' said she, addressing herself to her companion. ' Well, then, 
 to punish you for not obeying our summons, the ladies likened you 
 all to plants, and fruits, and flowers.' ' Pray let us hear,' said Wil- 
 son ; ' doubtless I come in for a sprig of laurel.' * No, Sir,' said 
 the pretty lively lady, ' you are wrong.' ' For rue, perchance,' 
 said he : ' No, Sir, guess again.' ' Why, I am dubbed bitter 
 enough ; perhaps a crab,' said he ; ' for that man (pointing to Gar- 
 rick) has dubbed me Sour Dick.' ' Guess again,' said the laugh- 
 ing maid. ' Ay, Sir,' said my old friend the Churchman, ' how 
 bewitching is the tongue of woman, beautiful, witty, and chaste :' — 
 such was she. All the moralising of our wondrous sage was at an 
 end ; we were charmed by her spell, and anxious for her explanation, 
 as children tired out, guessing at a riddle. ' Will you give it up ?' 
 said Miss * * * *. ' Yea, madam.' ' Why, then. Sir, you are 
 likened to olives. Now, Sir, will you dare to enquire farther ?' 
 ' Let me see,' said Wilson, all eyes upon him. — ' Well, then, my 
 dear, out with it ; I dare !' ' Then know, Sir,' said she, rising and 
 curtseying most gravely, ' Mister Wilson is rough to the taste at 
 first, tolerable by a little longer acquaintance, and delightful at last.' 
 ' Art thou content, friend Richard?' said Johnson: * that is very 
 handsome. Sir.' Wilson never looked so becomingly before ; he 
 made the damsel his best bow. ' Faith,' said he, ' I shall hence- 
 forth have a better opinion of myself I drink to you, my dear, and 
 should be proud to give your hand to one deserving of your superior 
 merits.' 
 
 " ' Come, young lady,' said Wilson, ' doubtless you have begged 
 of Flora or Pomona some symbol for the poet.' ' O ! I presume then 
 
EXTRACT FROM " WINE AND WALNUTS." 
 
 89 
 
 that the shamrock is to be my crown,' said Goldsmith. Then sud- 
 denly correcting himself — 'I don't mean shamrock, that's neither 
 fruit nor flower. — Ah,' smiting his own forehead, ' there is the 
 poor Irishman's head again," and laughed most good-humouredly at 
 his own blunder. * What thinkest thou of noli me tangere f said 
 Wilson, smiling ; * let us submit it to the ladies.' * That is Latin, I 
 presume,' said Miss **** ; 'may I beg a translation. Sir?' addressing 
 herself to Doctor Johnson. ' Why, my dear young lady,' said John- 
 son, pausing, ' that is a sentence from the Holy Scriptures, perhaps 
 improperly applied to a plant; — the saying of Our Lord, to Mary 
 Magdalene, in the garden. — I hope you read that sacred book.' ' I 
 do, Sir,' said the maiden, blushing at the question ; adding, with 
 graceful modesty, ' and I humbly trust. Sir, with reverence for its 
 precepts.' ' Bless you, dearest,' said the pious Doctor, taking her 
 gently by the hand ; ' bless you, my child ; and may your fair symbol 
 be the spotless lily, clothed in purity, to blossom in eternity !' 
 
 " I have forgotten the resemblances of many (said my old friend) . 
 but, if my memory serves me. Goldsmith pressed her for his, and the 
 lively girl likened him to the passion-flower, 
 
 ' Of all the painted garden, Flora's pride ! 
 Wrapp'd in a frumpish hood at even-tide^ 
 
 The prompt allusion gained her great applause. She was a charming 
 witty little puss (said my friend). — Sterne she likened to the sensit- 
 ive plant, that shrunk into itself with more than earthly feeling. ' And 
 now for Doctor Johnson's, Miss, if you will favour us,' said Gold, 
 smith. ' May I take the liberty. Sir?' said she, looking at the wise 
 man. 'Why not, dear?' said Johnson; 'certainly, by all means.' 
 She seemed to stand in awe, as though it were profane to make the 
 moralist the subject of her innocent playfulness. We were all atten- 
 tion. ' We likened you. Sir, then, to an aloe ;' and, with a faltering 
 voice, added, ' as a lofty plant, whose glorious head raised towards 
 heaven, adorns creation but once in a hundred years !' Johnson was 
 silent for a while ; then bowing to the ladies, gallantly said, * Ah ! 
 shall we be forgiven for thus banishing the gentle sex from our lordly 
 
90 
 
 EXHIBITION OF WILSON'S PICTURES 
 
 presence ? Ladies, we must henceforth learn to sacrifice at the altar 
 of the Graces, and become men again, by emulating the nobler knights 
 of old!'" 
 
 In the year 1814, a very numerous collection of pictures, painted 
 by Wilson, was offered for the inspection of the public in the British 
 Gallery, in Pali-Mall ; these, together with others by Hogarth, Gains- 
 borough, and Zoffani, in addition to those by Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
 which were exhibited in the same Gallery the preceding year, were 
 intended to display the powers of the British School, of which? 
 indeed, the country which gave birth to artists so distinguished, might 
 very justly be proud. In the preface to the catalogue, on this occasion, 
 among other remarks, was the following paragraph relating to Wil- 
 son, viz. 
 
 " Many of the works of Wilson will be contemplated with 
 delight ; few artists have excelled him in the tint of air, perhaps the 
 most difficult of attainment for the landscape painter ; every object in 
 his pictures keeps its place, because each is seen through its proper 
 medium. This excellence alone gives a charm to his pencil, and, 
 with judicious application, may be turned to the advantage of the 
 British artist. The merit of his works is now justly appreciated; and 
 we may hope that, since the period of his decease, the love and know- 
 ledge of the art have been so much diffused through the country, 
 that the exertion of such talents may never again remain unrewarded 
 during the lifetime of him who possessed them ! In such a hope we 
 do most sincerely unite !" * 
 
 In the month of July, of the same year, the following article 
 appeared in the Sun newspaper, which, as it seems to be written 
 with a true feeling for the beauties and the various excellencies of 
 the artist under consideration, pointing out, at the same time, with 
 great judgment and discrimination, the various powers which he dis- 
 played, may justly be considered as well worthy of a place among 
 these testimonies to his merit. 
 
 * Catalogue, British Institution, 1814. 
 
AT THE BRITISH INSTITUTION. 
 
 91 
 
 " In our last article,*' it is observed, " respecting this gallery 
 (the British Institution), we noticed some of the peculiar excellencies 
 of Hogarth ; — we now turn to the task of offering a few remarks 
 on the pictures of Wilson contained in this exhibition, of which 
 there are about seventy, including several of the most celebrated. 
 
 " The style of this artist is, in a peculiar degree, chaste, clas- 
 sical, grand, and interesting ; and his genius of the most indubitable 
 originality. It is impossible to contemplate his landscapes, and es- 
 pecially when the subject lies in Italy, without experiencing emotions 
 of that sublime description, which it is the boast of superior talents 
 to have the power of exciting. The graceful and easy undulation of 
 line in his distances, which carry the delighted eye to the horizon, 
 where it rests on tints truly celestial ; the awful grandeur of his 
 scenery, partaking of the sublimity, without the wildness and horror 
 of Salvator Rosa, and the appropriate character which universally 
 pervades it ; the affecting and beautiful introduction of the ruined 
 arch, or fallen column, and all the mouldering glories of architec- 
 ture ; the nobleness of his conceptions, and the corresponding vigour 
 of his execution, tend, together, to fill the breast of the spectator 
 with wonder and admiration. 
 
 " In many of these pictures Italy is realised, and, at one glance, 
 we are enabled to enter into all the great and powerful feelings which 
 are awakened by the recollection of what our earlier studies taught 
 us respecting that land of heroes, that seat of stupendous empire, 
 which virtue raised and luxury withdrew, till it presented those me- 
 lancholy scenes, in the representation of which Wilson so pre-emi- 
 nently excels. 
 
 " They are fine compositions, mingling the loveliest appear- 
 ances of nature, where nature is most beautiful, with dreary and 
 dark desolation, and every touching image which decaying grandeur, 
 in the noblest works of art, could suggest to a classical imagination. 
 
 " From these sources an emotion is engendered by the magic 
 power of the painter, to which we can apply no other epithet but 
 that of ' Sacred.' " 
 
 N 2 
 
92 
 
 VALUE OF FIGURES IN LANDSCAPE. 
 
 In Wilson's picture of " The Tomb of the Horatii and Curiatii, 
 near Albano,"* in the author's collection, all the various excellencies 
 here enumerated, both of conception and execution, are displayed 
 in a remarkable degree, with the additional advantage of having 
 thos eafFecting and " sacred" emotions, which the writer above quoted 
 has so ably described, greatly heightened by the judicious introduc- 
 tion of a most masterly group of well-chosen figures, highly classical, 
 and singularly appropriate to the grandeur and sublimity of the 
 scene ; aflfording a fine illustration of the very painter-like remark 
 made by Mr. Alison, when pointing out the importance of figures, 
 " in determining and heightening the characters of nature, and afford- 
 ing to the artist the means of producing both greater strength and 
 greater unity of expression than is to be found either in the rude or 
 in the embellished state of real society." 
 
 In the example here mentioned, any person with the least 
 degree of feeling or discernment must, doubtless, be very forcibly 
 struck with the skill and admirable intelligence which prompted the 
 introduction of the upright and dignified senatorial figure, which 
 forms the centre of the beautiful pyramidal group in this picture, 
 and which is made so finely to unite in expression with the majestic 
 ruin on the right ; nor can he fail to observe, at the same time, how 
 at once peaceful and appropriate is the addition of the piping shep- 
 herdess, as connected with the murmur of the distant waterfall, con- 
 veying to the mind of the spectator the most soothing ideas of tran- 
 quillity and repose, while the fancy wanders, and the imagination 
 luxuriates, amid an assemblage of objects the most sublime and en- 
 chanting, the whole of which are mellowed and thrown into harmony 
 by the glowing splendours of an evening sun ! What a magni- 
 ficent scene ! how grand ! how sublime ! Justly, indeed, has this 
 painter been styled the jwet of landscape ! 
 
 The value of figures in landscapes, and the interest excited in 
 the mind of the spectator by them, when judiciously introduced, have 
 
 * The picture here mentioned is nearly five feet in length, and has inscribed upon 
 it, in large characters, at one corner, " R. W. Roma. 1764'."... IS,^,^, L'(£rv-gA\'_^ ro 
 
VALUE OF FIGURES IN LANDSCAPE. 
 
 93 
 
 not been unaptly set forth in the pleasing work of a late writer, whose 
 observations on this subject, as they afford some useful hints towards 
 our better comprehending the principles of that unity of character 
 w^hich we have been considering, and as such remarks may not be 
 uninteresting to the reader of taste, will not be thought, perhaps, 
 unacceptable. 
 
 " The landscape," observes the author, " however dignified, 
 however picturesque, is, unless animated by human figures, far from 
 complete. The mind is soon satisfied with the view of rock, of wood, 
 and water; but if the peasant, the shepherd, or the fisherman, be 
 seen, or if, still more engaging, a group of figures be thrown into 
 some important action, the heart as well as the imagination is 
 affected, and a new sensation of exquisite delight, and scarcely admit- 
 ting of satiety, fills and dilates the bosom. 
 
 " Those who, either with the pen or pencil, combine the energy of 
 human action with the awful or romantic scenery of a rude, or with 
 the softened features of a cultivated country, secure, and have a claim, 
 to the most permanent fame. The banditti of Salvator Rosa, the 
 sweetly interesting figures of Poussin, and the rustic simplicity of 
 Gainsborough, unite with the surrounding views of nature in effecting 
 an impression of the utmost power, and not otherwise procurable 
 through the medium of a combination of this kind."* 
 
 " With such a mastery over our passions," continues the writer in 
 the newspaper above quoted, " we are yet not blinded to some 
 defects in this artist," meaning Wilson. 
 
 " Many of his landscapes of English views are not congenial to 
 the soil and climate of England. They partake too much of southern 
 skies, and lose the character which ought to belong to them, to 
 acquire that of another quarter of the globe. There is frequently too 
 much evidence of carelessness in the finish of even those subjects 
 which are the highest in point of conception ; and, generally speak- 
 ing, we may observe that the foregrounds are too much neglected. 
 
 * Drake's Literary Hours. 
 
94 
 
 WILSON NOT ALWAYS NEGLIGENT 
 
 " Yet, with these petty blemishes, Wilson must still take his place 
 among the foremost artists who have adorned the last century. Few 
 landscape painters, ancient or modern, can produce so potent an 
 effect upon the mind, and he will be handed down to posterity, not 
 only as an honor to Britain, but as a distinguished ornament to the 
 universal school of art !"* 
 
 Now although the author perfectly coincides in opinion, in almost 
 all that has been said in the above article, concerning our artist, he 
 cannot agree in the remark respecting his foregrounds, whereby we 
 are led to believe that, in the management of this part of his pictures, 
 Wilson has, generally speaking, been guilty of negligence. 
 
 In reply to this observation, he will venture to make it appear 
 that such is by no means the case, and that whenever the supposed 
 " evidence of carelessness in the finish" is observable in Wilson's 
 more classic productions, or, to use the writer's own words, in 
 " those subjects which are the highest in point of conception," the 
 absence of high finish has arisen from any thing rather than from 
 neglect. 
 
 The object with Wilson, let it be constantly remembered, was 
 " to improve mankind by the grandeur of his ideas, instead of endea- 
 vouring to amuse them by the minute neatness of his imitations ; 
 
 conceal, rather than to display, the subordinate marks of his 
 assiduity."! 
 
 As the means of accomplishing this, his chief care was so to 
 arrange the parts of his picture, as to draw the observation of the 
 spectator principally to the main feature of his composition, " in 
 which," as Mr. Alison expresses it, " only the greater expressions of 
 nature are retained," and there to arrest his attention, without suf- 
 fering the eye, and consequently the mind, to be seduced by extra- 
 neous ornament ; or of allowing the imagination to be disturbed by 
 the glittering finish of weeds, &c. in the foreground. " It is not 
 the eye," (such sentiments cannot be too often repeated,) " it is the 
 
 * Sun Newspaper, July, 1814, f Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
IN THE MANAGEMENT OF HIS FOREGROUND. 
 
 9$ 
 
 mind," says Sir Joshua, " which the painter of genius desires to 
 address ; nor will he waste a moment upon those objects which only 
 serve to catch the sense, to divide the attention, and to counteract 
 his great design of speaking to the heart. The skill, therefore, of 
 the landscape painter, as a man of genius, will be displayed in ex- 
 pressing that which employs his pencil, whatever it may be, as a 
 whole ; so that the general effect and power of the whole may take 
 possession of the mind, and for a while suspend the consideration of 
 the subordinate parts ; he will, in fine, apply himself to the imagin- 
 ation, not to curiosity." * 
 
 Bearing in mind this principle, we need only to observe with 
 what care, and it may very justly be said, exquisite penciling, certain 
 parts of Wilson's pictures, even of his larger ones, are very frequently 
 made out, and consider how much labour and attention have evi- 
 dently been bestowed upon them ; (I have been, indeed, told by those 
 who witnessed his process, that he would often paint, over and over 
 again, a mossy stone or other object, half a dozen times, before he 
 could get it to his mind ;) if we attentively examine those particular 
 parts that really are highly finished, and which the painter intended 
 as chiefly instrumental in producing the effect which he aimed at, 
 upon the mind of the spectator ; we must be led to conclude, thai 
 it was any thing rather than negligence, that induced him to leave 
 such other parts as he considered to be of inferior importance in 
 the composition in a less finished state. Wilson was well aware, 
 that " the detail of particulars which does not assist the expression 
 of the main characteristic, is worse than useless, it is mischievous, as 
 it distracts the attention, and draws it from the principal point ; for 
 it may be remarked," continues the accurate observer quoted, " that 
 the impression which is left on our minds, even of things which are 
 familiar to us, is seldom more than general effect, beyond which we 
 do not look in recognising such objects. To express this in paint- 
 ing, is to express what is congenial and natural to the mind of man. 
 
 * Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
96 ESSENTIAL DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WILSON AND CLAUDE. 
 
 and gives him by reflection his own mode of conceiving." * If, 
 therefore, we take fairly into consideration all the circumstances 
 above mentioned, we shall have no difiiculty in feeling convinced, 
 in the very clearest manner, that carelessness, at least in his more 
 sublime and classic productions, is one of the very last faults attri- 
 butable to our artist ; and that, moreover, on those parts, which- 
 soever they might be, whether in the foreground or elsewhere, 
 wherein he judged peculiar care and nicety of penciling to be pro- 
 ductive of advantage, no master ever bestowed greater attention, or 
 was more free from the fault which has been attributed to him ; on 
 the contrary, it will be sufficiently evident, that so far was it from 
 negligence, that it was by design, and upon studied 'principle only, 
 that Wilson not unfrequently chose to leave the foreground slightly 
 made out ; a principle, which, according to the author's way of 
 thinking, has, generally speaking, the power of exciting in the mind 
 of the spectator, " emotions of taste," more sublime, more exquisite, 
 and more undisturbed, than the contrary practice observable in 
 the pictures of Claude ; in which, inimitable as they are, and beau- 
 tiful in the very highest degree, we may sometimes observe, it 
 cannot be denied, an over attention to what may be denominated 
 the detail. 
 
 Without any intention whatever of detracting from the merit of 
 the master last named, than whose productions none assuredly can 
 be more delightful, there does certainly appear to be a considerable 
 difference in the respective excellence of these artists, inasmuch as 
 the particulars under consideration are concerned ; that is, the greater 
 or less finishing of the foreground, no less than in the judgment dis- 
 played by them respectively, in their introduction of the detail. 
 The advantage in each of these particulars, must, unquestionably, be 
 conceded to our countryman Wilson. 
 
 The force of this comparison between the works of Claude and 
 Wilson, respecting the points above mentioned, may, possibly, be not 
 
 * Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
COMPARISON BETWEEN VIRGIL AND OVID. 
 
 97 
 
 unaptly explained by a criticism upon a subject somewhat of a 
 parallel nature, in which the writer exemplifies a similar difference 
 as observable in the styles of Virgil and Ovid ; that is, in so far as 
 relates to the descriptive scenery with which the works of these 
 admirably discriminating and painter-like poets so richly abound. 
 
 If, in our perusal of the following quotation, we substitute the 
 names of Claude for Ovid, and Wilson for Virgil, we shall not, per- 
 haps, be very wide of the mark in our aim at an illustration of the 
 peculiar difference alluded to. 
 
 " Ovid," observes the author referred to, " has ever exhausted 
 his subject by minutise, which diminish the effect of the picture, and 
 annihilate the pleasure of the reader, by leaving nothing for his fancy 
 to conceive or complete. The following description of evening, by 
 the more judicious Virgil, though including but two objects, imme- 
 diately suggests to the reader a number of adjunctive and picturesque 
 circumstances : — 
 
 ' Et jam summa procul villarum culmina fumant, 
 Majoresque cadunt altis de montibus umbrae.' * 
 
 " The village smoke, at evening, brings forward the idea of the 
 weary peasant returning to a cheerful fire and hearty meal, meeting 
 the affectionate embrace of his wife and children ; while the length- 
 ening shades, from lofty hills, suggest a picture of the setting sun, 
 and of the soft and pensive scenery characteristic of the close of a 
 fine day. Had Ovid sat down to draw a similar landscape, he would, 
 probably, have occupied fifty lines in delineating every particular his 
 fervid imagination could body forth, and when the elaborate picture 
 was complete, the two lines of Virgil would be preferred by every 
 man of taste." f 
 
 With an imagination as fruitful and sublime as it ever fell to 
 the lot of either poet or painter to possess, regulated, on all occa- 
 
 * *' And see ! from village tops the smoke ascend, 
 
 And falling shades from western hills extend." Warton. 
 ••- Drake's Literary Hours. 
 
 O 
 
98 
 
 MANAGEMENT OF WILSON'S FOREGROUNDS 
 
 sions, by a taste peculiarly chaste and refined, it was that Wilson 
 followed, in the most felicitous manner, the very practice thus highly 
 commended in the Mantuan bard, and upon principles precisely the 
 same. To talk, therefore, of negligence, when his labours were 
 directed by science alone, is totally to misunderstand his meaning, 
 and the object which he principally had in view. 
 
 Besides other pictures of smaller dimensions by Wilson, the 
 author possesses no less than four of his large landscapes, that is to 
 say, each of them nearly five feet long, and proportionably wide, in 
 no one of which, he will venture to say, can the charge of negligence 
 in the execution of any part whatever be justly attributed to the 
 painter ; the very foreground, even in each and every one of them, 
 (consisting of beautiful representations of the most tasteful bas- 
 reliefs, Corinthian or Ionic capitals, trunks of trees, stones, weeds, 
 &c.) is penciled and worked up with the very greatest imaginable 
 attention, and in looking at which it would be perfectly absurd to 
 talk of indifference or neglect. The objects introduced into his 
 foregrounds, it is true, are comparatively few, but then they are dis- 
 tinct, without any thing elaborate or overcharged ; and where Claude 
 very possibly would have had a profuse and flowery parterre, Wilson 
 has selected one or two elegantly formed weeds, of which he is 
 satisfied to catch the distinguishing features only ; and which, being 
 painted with the characteristic touch of a masterly hand, and in such 
 a manner as to exhibit them at once as marked and particular 
 objects, are rendered equally, if not more a very great deal, capable 
 of imprinting on the mind a distinct and complete image. Just so, 
 we find that a few well chosen words, such, for instance, as are to be 
 found in either the Allegro or II Penseroso of Milton, bring home 
 to the heart, by a single stroke, all the more minute and interesting 
 beauties of the scenery which it was the intention of the poet to 
 describe ; and which, by their being portrayed with conciseness 
 and simplicity, we feel and acknowledge to have been at once most 
 truly and most forcibly conveyed. " The strength and vivacity of 
 
FOUNDED ON CORRECT PRINCIPLES. 
 
 99 
 
 description, whether in prose or poetry, depend much more upon 
 the happy choice of one or two striking circumstances, than upon 
 the multiplication of them." * The same principle is equally appli- 
 cable to the art under consideration, and more obvious instances of 
 its truth will not easily be found, than those in the well understood 
 compositions of our countryman. 
 
 This method of proceeding is, indeed, in a more particular 
 manner, adapted to the style of Wilson's compositions, as contrasted 
 with those of Claude, and which are, for the most part, especially his 
 Italian scenery, of a grand and solemn character. " It is observed, 
 in general," says a learned writer upon a sister art, " that in de- 
 scribing solemn or great objects, the concise manner is almost always 
 proper ; descriptions of gay and smiling scenes can bear to be more 
 amplified and prolonged, as strength is not the predominant quality 
 expected in these." 
 
 " The circumstances in description," observes the same author, 
 when speaking of poetry, " should be expressed with conciseness and 
 with simplicity ; for, when either too much exaggerated, or too long 
 dwelt upon and extended, they never fail to enfeeble the impression 
 that is designed to be made. Brevity almost always contributes to 
 vivacity. We have reason always to distrust an author's descriptive 
 talents, when we find him laborious and turgid, amassing common- 
 place epithets and general expressions to work up a higher concep- 
 tion of some object, of which, after all, we can form but an indistinct 
 idea. The best describers are simple and concise. They set before 
 us such features of an object, as, on the first view, strike and warm 
 the fancy ; they give us ideas which a statuary or a painter could lay 
 hold of, and work after them ; which is one of the strongest and most 
 decisive trials of the real merit of description." f 
 
 A dozen pages of the most minute and laboured description, 
 employed in delineating his character, would totally fail of its effect. 
 
 * Blair's Lectures. f Ibid. 
 
 o 2 
 
100 
 
 SCIENCE AND TASTE OF WILSON'S FOREGROUNDS. 
 
 when compared to " the characteristic features of the portrait, 
 sketched for himself, by the exquisite pencil of Gray." * 
 
 " Him have we seen, the greenwood side along, 
 As o'er the heath we hied, our labour done, 
 Oft as the wood-lark piped his evening song, 
 With wishful eye pursue the setting sun." 
 
 In setting forth the beauties of a passage in the Penseroso, in 
 as far as relates to the particular under consideration, the writer just 
 quoted remarks, " We may observe the conciseness of the poet's 
 manner. He does not rest long on one circumstance, or employ a 
 great many words to describe it, which always make the impression 
 faint and languid ; but placing it in one strong point of view, full 
 and clear before the reader, he there leaves it." f 
 
 All this speaks volumes to the mind of him who, unbiassed by 
 prejudice, and with a heart capable of being touched and expanded 
 by the awakening impressions which the magic productions of poeti- 
 cal genius are ever calculated to inspire, can calmly and quietly sit 
 down to the contemplation of those strong and expressive images, 
 all of one class, and simple in their style, which are to be found in 
 a grand and classical picture of our inimitable Wilson. 
 
 Sufficient, it is to be hoped, has been said to make it appear, 
 according to the promise which was ventured to be given, that, in- 
 stead of our imputing negligence or indifference to this great painter, 
 we are bound to concede to him the rare merit of having laboured 
 with judgment, with science, with attention, and taste. 
 
 Although from a full conviction of his having; been undeserving 
 of it, the writer has been desirous of vindicating our artist from the 
 charge of negligence, especially in his more important and classic 
 productions, he is not so bigotted to his merits as to be insensible to 
 the defects frequently apparent in many of Wilson's pictures. Such 
 imperfections, however, will, generally speaking, be found to be- 
 
 * Philosophical Essays, by Dugald Stewart. 
 
 f Blair's Lectures. 
 
INCE CASTLE. 
 
 101 
 
 long to those which he executed at a later period of his life, and 
 more particularly in his views of English scenery, when depression 
 and poverty rendered him equally careless of his fame, and indiffer- 
 ent to the opinion of the public. His earlier pictures, and, in a 
 more especial manner, those painted in Italy, are certainly not ob- 
 noxious to such reprehension. 
 
 There are, it is to be imagined, few counties in the kingdom 
 that do not possess some specimen of Wilson ; we must, however, 
 in vain hope to see again collected into one place so many fine ex- 
 amples of this artist as were exhibited at the British Gallery in the 
 year 1814. 
 
 Abounding, as that collection certainly did, with productions 
 of the most exquisite kind, there were still some pictures of very 
 inferior quality to be found therein ; and not a few among them which 
 might fairly be considered as unworthy of the name of originals. 
 Perhaps no master has been so often copied as Wilson ; and to an 
 eye not thoroughly experienced in the art, there is great difficulty in 
 ascertaining the genuineness of his hand. Barrett, Hodges, and 
 others, imitated his manner, in many instances, with very considerable 
 success. 
 
 If the author mistakes not, the finest examples of Wilson are 
 
 to be seen at Ince Castle, near Liverpool, the seat of Blundell, 
 
 Esq., and which may be justly, and he believes have been considered 
 as the chef-d' ceuvres of this artist. These pictures are four in num- 
 ber, of large dimensions, and are inserted in panels affixed to the 
 walls ; one of them, a most beautiful performance, is a repetition 
 of the " Phaeton," a subject well known throughout the world by 
 the admirable engraving taken from it by WooUet, and which, for 
 richness of colour, it being a glowing sunset, and for grandeur of 
 light and shade, and composition, altogether stands unrivalled as a 
 work of art. The late Mr. Walsh Porter had a fine picture of this 
 same subject, though not in an equal state of preservation with that 
 at Ince Castle. The above-mentioned pictures were executed ex- 
 pressly for the late Mr. Blundell, a gentleman of great taste, and an 
 
102 
 
 INCE CASTLE. 
 
 enthusiastic admirer of the fine arts, who, in order that they might 
 remain in the place for which they were originally painted, bequeathed 
 them as heir-looms in his family. 
 
 It is, perhaps, to be lamented that productions so inestimable 
 should be condemned to be thus permanently fixed ; for not to 
 mention the extreme difficulty of their being saved in case of fire, 
 while attached, as the writer saw them some years ago, so injudi- 
 ciously to the walls, they were suffering considerably from the damp- 
 ness of their situation, and one of them in particular, a view of the 
 Campagna of Rome, was most materially injured. 
 
 Ince Castle is about ten miles west of Liverpool ; unfortunately 
 not in the direct route to any other place of note, so that the 
 amateur is under the necessity of making a journey over a rough 
 and disagreeable road, expressly for that one object, if he wishes to 
 have a sight of these pictures ; that one object, however, he may 
 venture to be assured, will afford ample recompense for his trouble ; 
 and though he lament, as very possibly he may, the difficulty, if he 
 happens to live at a distance, of repeating his visit, no cause will be 
 found for regret on account of either the loss of time, the fatigue, 
 or the expense which the expedition may have occasioned ; such is 
 the feast which these charming productions cannot fail to afford, 
 independently of many other attractions. 
 
 For besides these treasures, the master-pieces of our great artist, 
 Ince Castle contains a vast collection of other pictures, antique statues, 
 l)as-reliefs, and marbles, and may justly be considered quite a 
 museum of art. Indeed no place that I have seen, out of the country 
 itself, has so thoroughly the appearance of an Italian villa, or calls 
 forth so many pleasing recollections and associations, connected with 
 that classic ground, as does this elegant and highly ornamented 
 retreat. How much reason is there to regret that so interesting a 
 spot, — a spot where you may contemplate in perfection the Pantheon 
 of Rome ! — where you tread on the very marble of Italy itself ! — 
 and where you stand, surrounded on all sides with the finest pro- 
 ductions of art, tastefully and classically arranged! — how unfor- 
 
— 
 
LADY FORD'S COLLECTION OF WILSONS. 
 
 103 
 
 tunately it happens, I repeat, that this very interesting place, instead 
 of being, as it were, in an obscure corner of the kingdom, is not situate 
 nearer the metropohs, or at least in a locality more conveniently 
 accessible ! 
 
 Perhaps the most numerous collection of paintings by Wilson, 
 in the possession of an individual, is belonging to Lady Ford, in 
 Gloucester Place, London. These pictures, amounting to thirty 
 or forty, if not even to a still greater number, devolved to this Lady 
 upon the decease of her brother, Mr. Boothe, for whose father, Mr. 
 Boothe of the Adelphi, they were originally painted. 
 
 Lady Ford has also a book containing original sketches and 
 drawings by Wilson, a most interesting collection. The greatest 
 part, if not the whole, of these pictures, the writer remembers to have 
 seen formerly in the Adelphi, soon after the decease of the elder 
 Mr. Boothe ; at that time they were without frames, covered with 
 dust, and piled together in a heap, against the wall of a miserable 
 garret, in which neglected situation they had remained, as he was 
 informed, for a great number of years, unseen by any one ; another 
 proof of the little estimation in which the productions of our artist 
 were generally held when the collection was made. 
 
 Fortunately for the public and for the memory of Wilson, these 
 inestimable paintings are now in better hands ; and it affords the 
 author much pleasure in being able to bear testimony to the liberality 
 of Lady Ford, who, with the greatest politeness, allows the inspec- 
 tion of these pictures to her friends ; and who, no less in order to 
 gratify the public, and at the same time with the view of promoting 
 the cultivation of art, most handsomely complied with the desire of 
 the British Institution, in their wish of adorning the walls of their 
 gallery with some of these choice specimens of art. 
 
 Dr. Walcott, better known by the title of Peter Pindar, the 
 friend and constant admirer of Wilson, possessed several small pic- 
 tures in his best style, and which he had from the artist himself. 
 Among them was the view from Kew Gardens, painted expressly for 
 the late King, in which was introduced the pagoda, but which, al- 
 
104 
 
 BENEVOLENCE OF HIS LATE MAJESTY. 
 
 though exquisite in colour and simplicity of design, was, by some 
 mismanagement, returned upon the hands of the painter. This most 
 unfortunate proceeding caused, as may well be supposed, infinite 
 mortification to Wilson ; and it was in consequence of that want of 
 discernment, arising, it is too justly to be feared, from the absence of 
 true taste in the advisers of his Majesty, that the satirist has so 
 keenly vented his spleen, both in his rhymes and in the article before 
 alluded to, viz. in the account of Wilson, inserted in the Supplement 
 to the new Edition of Pilkington's Dictionary of Painters. 
 
 The well known benevolence of his late Majesty's disposition, 
 and the kindness which he evinced on all occasions to those about 
 him, must for ever exculpate him from any intentional act of cruelty ; 
 and it is to be lamented that in this instance the Kino; did not follow 
 the genuine dictates of his heart, ever alive to the fostering of genius, 
 and to the encouragement of the arts. For how long a period the 
 lines of the satirist may stand, the author does not pretend to predict, 
 but the eminent virtues of our late good King (" so excellent a 
 King !") are too deeply engraven upon the hearts of his affectionate 
 subjects to be erased, or even obscured by reflections such as these ; 
 and the monument which his late Majesty has erected to his fame, 
 in the establishment of the Royal Academy, alone, an institution 
 heretofore unknown in Great Britain, must stand on record to the 
 latest posterity, as a convincing proof how much and how sincerely 
 he was the patron of art. 
 
 " Soon after his Majesty had ascended the throne," observed the 
 late President of the Royal Academy, in his discourse delivered to 
 its members assembled therein, Dec. 10th, 1811, " his benign regard 
 for the prosperity of the fine arts in these realms was manifested by 
 his gracious commands to establish this favoured institution. 
 
 " The heart of every artist and of the friend of art glowed with 
 mutual congratulation, to see a British King, for the first time, at 
 the head of the fine arts. His Majesty nominated forty members 
 guardians to his infant academy ; and that they have been faithful 
 to the trust which he graciously reposed in them, the several apart- 
 
HIS PATRONAGE OF THE ARTS. 
 
 105 
 
 merits under this roof sufficiently testify. The professors are highly 
 endowed with accomplishments and scientific knowledge in the 
 several branches to which they are respectively appointed ; and the 
 funds able to render relief to the indigent and decayed artists, their 
 widows and children. 
 
 " Who can reflect for a moment," continued Mr. West, " on 
 the rare advantages here held out for the instruction of youthful 
 genius, and the aid given to the decayed, their widows and helpless 
 offspring, without feeling the grateful emotions of the heart rise 
 towards a patriot King, for giving to the arts this home within 
 the walls of a stately mansion, and towards the members of this 
 academy, who, as his faithful guardians, have so ably fulfilled the 
 purposes for which the institution was formed." * 
 
 In a small publication which has appeared since the foregoing 
 pages were written, and from which extracts have already been made, 
 may be seen the following remarks respecting his late Majesty, and 
 which are given as if spoken by Dr. Monsey, a character " well known 
 to the wits of the day, being himself one of the first class, and who 
 from his eccentricities and playful humour, was frequently compared 
 to Swift." 
 
 " ' Ay,' added the Doctor, ' could the King have had his own way, 
 what a country of intellect would this have been ere now. I question 
 whether Charles himself possessed a spirit of greater munificence 
 towards the arts and sciences in general than he. I have pondered 
 a thousand times upon the question, why the rulers and governors 
 of an intelligent people are so commonly indifferent to the merits of 
 the truly great — the few of rare genius — whose virtues and whose 
 talents make others wise ? Kings would cherish such, I verily be- 
 lieve, if ministers would let them. Our good old sovereign did all 
 he could, and delighted to enumerate how many of his subjects of 
 transcendant abilities would be added to the list of British worthies, 
 
 * Gait's Life and Works of West. 
 P 
 
106 
 
 EXTRACT FROM " WINE AND WALNUTS." 
 
 and henceforth make a figure in the annals of his reign. Heaven 
 preserve his memory !' said my enlightened friend, < should be the 
 word with men of science, for he fought their battles single- 
 handed.' " 
 
 To the above is added in a note, " It no doubt annoyed his 
 Majesty, pious as he was, without the least tincture of bigotry, to 
 be thwarted in his zeal for the promotion of the fine arts by those 
 starched divines, who held that the adorning the metropolitan church 
 with pictures, designed from passages in the Holy Scriptures, was 
 incompatible with the sanctity of a Christian temple. Yet, credite 
 posteri) this same metropolitan church had, in the reign of Queen 
 Anne, proudly displayed the trophies of Blenheim and Ramillies, and 
 now exhibits for money a daily exhibition of sculptured images of 
 English heroes, attended by heathen deities ! 
 
 " It should not be forgotten," continues this interesting writer, 
 " that Sir Joshua Reynolds, Mr. Benjamin West, and others, good 
 men and great artists, proposed, gratuitously, to paint sacred histo- 
 rical subjects to fill the panels of the piers of the arches that sup- 
 port the dome of this magnificent edifice. And that although his 
 Majesty approved of the plan, Dr. Terrick, the bishop of London, 
 would not give his consent." * 
 
 Two of the above-mentioned pictures, belonging to Dr. Walcott, 
 were purchased of him by Sir William Pilkington, bart., and are now 
 in his collection at Chivet, in Yorkshire ; they are small but very 
 beautiful specimens of the artist. The author was present when the 
 transaction took place, and did his utmost to induce the old gentle- 
 man to part with the pagoda, but in vain, he having set an additional 
 value upon it, as there was reason to believe, from the very circum- 
 stance related. 
 
 Besides various pictures by Wilson, several of which were ex- 
 hibited at the British Gallery in 1814, Sir Watkin Williams Wynne, 
 
 * Vide « Wine and Walnuts." . 
 
HKNJ.\MTN WEST, r. K,A 
 
PORTRAIT OF WILSON. 
 
 107 
 
 bart. has in his possession a portrait of the artist himself, painted by 
 Raphael Mengs. From a copy of this picture, painted by Mr. John 
 Taylor, under the inspection of Wilson, a very beautiful engraving 
 was made some years ago by Mr. Bond, for a work entitled " The 
 Fine Arts of the English School," accompanied with a short memoir, 
 the main particulars of which have been noticed in the foregoing 
 pages. The frontispiece to the present volume is from the graver of 
 the same accomplished artist. * 
 
 For further particulars respecting pictures painted by Wilson, 
 vide Appendix, C; in which also will be seen a list of the chief of 
 those which have been engraved, D. 
 
 Such are the particulars the author has been able to collect, re- 
 specting the life and the works of our great landscape painter. To 
 say that Wilson's productions are without fault, would be praise no 
 less injudicious than untrue ; but since his merits so infinitely out- 
 weigh his deficiencies, and as no one ever surpassed him in the true 
 and legitimate excellencies of that branch of the art which he pur- 
 sued, how much reason, alas ! is there to fear it may be long before 
 we " look upon his like again !" 
 
 In making this observation, let it not be imagined that there is 
 the most distant intention of underrating the admirable productions 
 of our landscape painters of the present day ; on the contrary, no 
 one contemplates with greater delight than the author the powers 
 of that fertile mind and inexhaustible invention exhibited in the 
 master-pieces of Turner, no less than the chaste and captivating 
 beauties of Calcott ; from the excellent works of both these artists 
 
 * Another portrait, purporting to have been painted also by Mengs, was exhibited 
 at the British Institution, in 1814, belonging to Miss Boothe. 
 
 p 2 
 
108 OBSERVATION OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 he has derived the highest degree of pleasure, and feels himself 
 happy in possessing examples of their skill ; for with the great Sir 
 Joshua, our country's pride, he is able to assert, that " the possess- 
 ing the choicest examples of art, he considered as the best kind of 
 wealth." * ^ 
 
 * Malone's Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER I. ^ 
 
 PICTURES CONSIDERED IN A PECUNIARY POINT OF VIEW. — THOSE OF SIR JOSHUA REY- 
 NOLDS FAST DIMINISHING IN NUMBER. SUPERIORITY OF BRITISH ARTISTS. 
 
 WINKELMANN. MONTESQUIEU. DESTRUCTION OF SIR JOSHUa's PICTURES BY FIRE 
 
 AT BELVOIR CASTLE. — THE NATIVITY. PAINTED WINDOW AT NEW COLLEGE, OXFORD. 
 
 DIFFICULTY OF COPYING THE PICTURES OF SIR JOSHUA AND WILSON. OPINIONS OF 
 
 WEST AND OPIE RESPECTING COLOURING. FAILURE OF THAT OF SIR JOSHUA. 
 
 BRITISH INSTITUTION. SIR THOMAS BARNARD. DEFENCE OF SIR JOSHUA REY- 
 NOLDS. HIS METHOD OF COLOURING, AND APOLOGY. LAUDABLE INSTANCE OF 
 
 LIBERALITY IN SUPPORT OF THE ARTS. 
 
 Although in using the expression which forms the concluding sen- 
 tence in the foregoing part of this work, Sir Joshua, doubtless, alluded 
 to that intellectual wealth only, which fine pictures must ever be 
 held to constitute ; and in which light, unquestionably, they are 
 chiefly to be contemplated by the real lover of art ; still, it must be 
 granted, there are other considerations of no trifling importance 
 belonging to such possessions ; that is, when considered in the light 
 of property only ; as it is very certain, that a fine picture now-a- 
 days may be looked upon in almost the same light as a Bank of 
 England note, being nearly as negociable, and possessing every pro- 
 perty belonging to intrinsic wealth. Such treasures, indeed, have 
 been at all times, and never perhaps were they more than at present, 
 objects of research, and rarely to be obtained except by some lucky 
 chance. 
 
no 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS'S PICTURES. 
 
 The avidity with which choice commodities of the kind are 
 uniformly bought up, and the very high prices which have, espe- 
 cially of late years, been given for them at our public sales, bear 
 ample testimony that this is actually the case ; such pictures having, 
 in many instances, produced nearly three or four times the sum that 
 had been originally paid for them. Among these, I am happy to 
 say, may be numbered the productions of our Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
 whose admirable works, though they are beyond all price, it is highly 
 gratifying to observe, continually rise in estimation. And well in- 
 deed they may, for the time it is to be feared is far distant before we 
 shall have it in our power to boast of another artist gifted like him 
 with powers so multiform and extraordinary, however deserving of 
 praise our painters are of the present day. In addition to this con- 
 sideration must be added likewise another sad source of regret, when 
 we reflect, that of the works which he left behind, how many, alas ! 
 are no longer in existence ; and with what rapidity, owing to one 
 disastrous cause or other, does the number of those which are still 
 remaining continually diminish. 
 
 The observation applies almost as forcibly to the sublime pro- 
 ductions of our great landscape painter also, although his works are 
 not, fortunately for the lovers of art, of quite so perishable a nature 
 in themselves as some of Sir Joshua's ; notwithstanding which, too 
 many even of his are, from bad cleaning and other causes, no longer 
 deservino; of the name of Wilsons. 
 
 These are serious considerations, and well calculated to excite 
 in our minds the most ardent desire of cherishing and enjoying to 
 the utmost, as long as we are able, such interesting and valuable 
 companions ; for, to use the emphatic words of an author who wrote 
 upwards of a hundred years ago, " no more can be had than what 
 are now in being ; no new ones can be made ; the number of these 
 must necessarily diminish by time and accidents, but cannot be sup- 
 plied ; the world must be content with what it has ; for though there 
 are ingenious men endeavouring to tread in the steps of such pro- 
 digies of art, whose works we are speaking of, there is yet no appear- 
 
SUPERIORITY OF BRITISH ARTISTS. 
 
 Ill 
 
 ance that any will equal them, though I am in hopes that our 
 own country does and will produce those that will come as near 
 them as any other nation ; I mean as to history-painting, for that we 
 already excel all others in portraits, is indisputable." * 
 
 It is with sentiments of singular exultation that the author feels 
 himself justified in asserting, without fear of contradiction, that, 
 although so very long a period has elapsed since the above con- 
 gratulatory declaration was made respecting the artists of our own 
 country, the remark not only is now most strictly applicable, but 
 that it has been equally so likewise during the whole course of the 
 great number of years that have intervened. 
 
 For let us but only reflect what a proud succession of splendid 
 talents has been witnessed, as belonging to the English school, since 
 the foregoing observation was penned ; what a triumphant proof do 
 the names of Reynolds, of Wilson, of Gainsborough, of Hogarth, 
 and of so many other illustrious characters afford, of the futility and 
 hollo wness of that idle cant, which in former times our neighbours 
 so liberally used, in stigmatising as barbarous and incapable, for- 
 sooth, the luminous inhabitants of a region destined to become to the 
 nations around, the very Pole-star of literature, of science, and the 
 arts ! 
 
 " Coxcombs, exulting, dared hei' powers despise, 
 Aspersed her sons, and slander'd e'en her skies : 
 But now, no more th' inglorious taunt is thrown ; 
 Her arts triumphant as her arms are known ; 
 Aroused, her genius soars on wings sublime, 
 
 Asserts her taste, and vindicates her clime." Shee. 
 
 Who, in this our day, could suppose it to have been even 
 possible, that such sentiments should ever have been entertained 
 respecting a nation so enlightened as ours, capable of enumerating 
 in its train, such a multitude of illustrious and unrivalled poets, 
 painters, sculptors, and the most distinguished literary characters, 
 
 * Richardson's Essay on the Theory of Painting, 1715. 
 
112 
 
 MONTESQUIEU. —WINKELMANN. 
 
 in every department of learning and science, — the very land, in fact, 
 at once, of imagination, of ability, and taste ; and by writers too, 
 who bore a high reputation for learning and philosophy, in their 
 dav ! 
 
 " Abbe du Bos, President Montesquieu, and Abbe Winkelmann 
 have followed one another," says Mr. Barry, " in assigning limits to 
 the genius of the English ; they pretend to point out a certain char- 
 acter of heaviness and want of fancy, which they deduce from phy- 
 sical causes. They say, that we can have no imagination, taste, or 
 sensibility ; that we succeed in nothing that requires genius ; that 
 our climate is so distempered, that we disrelish every thing; that it 
 is in consequence of a north-east wind that our poets cannot arrive at 
 the particular kind of delicacy that springs from taste ; and that our 
 natural capacity for the fine arts, amounts to very little, to nothing 
 at all." 
 
 It was scarcely in the power of any one, perhaps, to have ex- 
 posed, in a more able manner, the absurd reveries of these foreigners, 
 than the writer of the above paragraph has done, in his spirited de- 
 fence of English genius. " He has, indeed," a writer has remarked, 
 " combated those philosophical speculators on climate with twofold 
 powers ; he has employed his pen and his pencil with equal ability, 
 and not only foiled them in argument, but confounded them by fact, 
 as the great room in the Adelphi sufficiently shows." 
 
 Many, alas ! and various, are the means which are perpetually at 
 work, in stealing from us the treasures which it is still our good for- 
 tune to possess, in the productions by Sir Joshua's inimitable hand ! 
 The very perishable, and in some instances evanescent materials of 
 which many of his finest pictures are composed ; arising, principally, 
 from that unavoidable uncertainty respecting the nature and proper- 
 ties of the different colours, and in which he remained during the 
 greater part of his career ; his course having been, as it may indeed 
 almost be said, little else than a series of experiments, carried on 
 with the anxious and very laudable desire of discovering for the 
 benefit of others, as well as for himself, those materials and ingredients 
 
FIRE AT BELVOIR CASTLE. II3 
 
 which might be most excellent among the'^ various pigments and 
 vehicles essential to his art ; added to which, the accidents by fire, 
 and other unforeseen causes of destruction or decay ; all these cir- 
 cumstances combined, have tended most seriously to diminish the 
 number of his inestimable works, and consequently very greatly to 
 enhance the value of those which remain. 
 
 It is impossible to indulge in such reflections, without calling to 
 mind the grievous loss sustained only a few years ago in the anni- 
 hilation of that chef-cC ceuvre, that magnificent assemblage of every 
 thing which might be considered as fine, or that the most dazzling 
 splendours of colouring could produce, " The Nativity," which, to- 
 gether with many other of Sir Joshua's most valuable productions, 
 fell a sacrifice to the devouring flames that nearly levelled the 
 stately mansion of Belvoir Castle with the ground.* A greater 
 misfortune than this it was scarcely possible for the art to sustain ; 
 a loss, indeed, whicli the author can never cease to lament, having 
 been so fortunate as to enjoy frequent opportunities of contemplating 
 and becoming familiar with the wonders of that sublime and inestim- 
 able master-piece of art, and before which, v/hile wrapped in 
 emotions of admiration and delight, he has been seated for hours to- 
 gether. Although the centre compartment of that deservedly 
 admired work, the painted window in New College, Oxford, may 
 afford some small degree of compensation for a loss so severe ; pre- 
 senting, as it unquestionably does, a delightful representation of this 
 very grand composition, still we look in vain for that rich, full, and 
 Titianesque mellowness of colouring which, in so eminent a degree, 
 the original painting displayed, and which, like that to be found in 
 other works of this master, and his great contemporary, Wilson, 
 though very rarely, indeed, to be seen in those of any other, has 
 seldom, if ever, been fully attained in any copy, however excellent 
 in every other respect ; so singularly difficult a matter, and almost 
 so hopeless of attainment, does it seem to be, to arrive at the perfec- 
 
 * The fire occurred in the night of the 26th of October, 1816. 
 
 Q 
 
 Vide Appendix B. 
 
114 
 
 OPIE ON COLOURING. 
 
 tion of that fresh, vigorous, brilliant, harmonious, and almost unde- 
 finable richness of hue, far easier to imagine than to describe, the 
 exquisite beauty of which can be distinguished by the favoured few 
 alone, who are gifted with that rare endowment, " an eye for colour," 
 as others are said to be with an ear for musical sounds. 
 
 And here the author would not be thought to have used the 
 expression " an eye for colour," in an incidental manner only, or at 
 random ; it being his opinion and belief, that there is a peculiar 
 faculty of the mind belonging to the seeing of colours, analogous and 
 answering to that which we usually call " an ear for music," the truth 
 of which, to those persons whose attention hath been directed to such 
 enquiries, every day's experience must prove. 
 
 As it is the writer's intention, in the course of this work, to offer 
 a few observations on the recently discovered mode of enquiry con- 
 cerning the faculties of the human mind, and especially of that par- 
 ticular one belonging to colouring, he refrains from saying any thing 
 further respecting it now ; that, however, it may not be imagined 
 that difficulties have been started, where no such difficulties are found 
 to exist, he ventures, by way of authority for what has been advanced, 
 to quote the sentiments of one of our most able professors on the 
 subject of colouring ; and as they are the opinions of an artist who 
 arrived at great excellence in his profession, and whose writings at 
 the same time evince a most profound knowledge of both the theory 
 and the principles of his art, the reader need feel little hesitation in 
 taking them as his guide. 
 
 " It has often been remarked," observes Mr. Opie, " that colours 
 are to the eye, what flavours are to the palate, and sounds to the 
 ear ; and as music should not only be well composed and played in 
 time and in tune, but the tones also of the voices and instruments 
 should be touching and agreeable ; so, in painting, the colours should 
 not only be applied properly, but arranged with judgment and taste, 
 but they should also be capable of affording pleasure by their own 
 intrinsic beauty, by their brilliancy, freshness, harmony, and trans- 
 
1,1,1!' K 
 
WEST ON COLOURING. 115 
 
 parency; these constitute the essence and exquisite flavour of 
 colouring. 
 
 " Richness and transparency may be obtained by glazing and 
 passing the colours one over another without suffering them to mix ; 
 and harmony is secured by keeping up the same tone through the 
 whole, and not at all by any sort of arrangement, as some have 
 erroneously supposed. These circumstances will be plain and in- 
 telligible to all who are a little initiated in the theory and manage- 
 ment of colours ; but they will also find, to their sorrow, that bril- 
 liancy and freshness may easily be pushed into rawness and crude- 
 ness ; that transparency may easily degenerate into flimsiness and 
 want of solidity ; that harmony easily slides into jaundice and mud- 
 diness ; that spirit and cleanness of touch quickly run into hardness ; 
 and softness into woolliness and want of precision ; and between 
 these almost meeting extremes, who shall tell them when and where 
 to stop ? This is altogether beyond the power of words, and is attain- 
 able only by agood o rgan, long practice, and the study of nature 
 and the best masters." * 
 
 Another writer and artist, of no less celebrity, makes the fol- 
 lowing observations upon colouring. " As the Florentine and 
 Roman schools were gradually refined in the excellence of design 
 and character, by the aid of philosophical studies, so the Venetian 
 masters were equally indebted to the like studies, without which they 
 would never have reached their admirable system of colouring. If 
 any have conceived otherwise, they have taken a very superficial 
 view of their system. Where is there greater science concerned 
 than in the whole theory of colours ? It employed the investigation 
 of Newton ; and shall that pass for a common or easy attainment 
 which took up so much of his profound studies ? The Venetian mas- 
 ters had been long working their way to the radical principles of 
 this science, not only for a just and perfect arrangement of their 
 colouring, but for that clear and transparent system in the use of 
 
 * Opie's Lectures. 
 Q 2 
 
116 
 
 FAILURE OF THE COLOURING 
 
 it, which have equally marked that school in the days of its maturity 
 under Titian. He it was who established, on unerring principles, 
 founded on nature and truth, that accomplished system which John 
 Bellini had first laboured to discover, and in which Giorgioni had 
 made further advancements. Besides his zeal in his profession, 
 Titian was born in that higher rank of life which might be supposed 
 to give him an easier access to the elegant studies of philosophic 
 science ; and he had prosecuted, with great ardour, the science of 
 chemistry, the better to understand the properties of colour, their 
 homogeneous blendings, purity, and duration ; as well as the pro- 
 perties of oils, gums, and other fluids, which might form the fittest 
 vehicles to convey his colours upon canvass." * 
 
 Thus, it evidently appears, that the author has not over-rated 
 the difficulties of attaining to excellence in colouring, nor will it be 
 found, when these and the many other requisites attending the art 
 are maturely considered, • that he has estimated too highly the pro- 
 ductions of either Sir Joshua Reynolds or his great contemporary, 
 Wilson, in both of whose works so much excellence, especially in the 
 particular under consideration, is manifestly displayed. 
 
 The failure of colouring, in some of Sir Joshua Reynolds's 
 pictures, has, it is well known, occasionally excited remarks no less 
 illiberal than they are unjust ; and as I am anxious that no oppor- 
 tunity should be omitted of doing away any mistaken opinion which 
 may prevail, prejudicial to the reputation of an artist so deserving of 
 praise, I will repeat the observations of a writer who appears to have 
 put the matter in a very judicious and proper point of view, con- 
 ceiving that sentiments so liberal and praiseworthy cannot be too 
 generally known. 
 
 I have, indeed, myself heard, on more occasions than one, 
 some very uncharitable and harsh expressions used by persons when 
 speaking upon this subject ; more particularly, in the British Gallery, 
 by a gentleman of no very inferior consequence, judging from the 
 
 * Gait's Life of West. 
 
/ 
 
OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 117 
 
 manner in which he was listened to, as well as the rank of several 
 among his auditors, while contemplating the splendid examples of 
 this master, with a sight of which the public were indulged last 
 year. * 
 
 I have the greater pleasure in doing this, from the consideration 
 that an opportunity is thereby afforded me not only of paying my 
 tribute of respect to the memory of this justly celebrated artist, but 
 that it enables me also, at the same time, to avail myself of an oc- 
 casion of offering, together with this writer, my sincere acknow- 
 ledgments for the signal benefit which the arts of this country have 
 derived from the acquisition of that valuable and interesting esta- 
 blishment, the British Institution ; to the founders and managers of 
 which, and especially to the memory of the late Sir Thomas Barnard, 
 who may deservedly be considered as one of the first and most 
 zealous promoters of it, the public stand indebted in a very eminent 
 degree. 
 
 " The colouring of Sir Joshua," observes this writer, " which 
 has deservedly been the subject of the highest admiration and praise, 
 has also been the most familiar topic of animadversion and censure. 
 
 " In the pursuit of excellence he was certainly not content with 
 treading in a beaten path, and as he always thought for himself, so 
 he was constantly inventing new methods of practice. That he was 
 sometimes unsuccessful cannot be denied ; but after that display of 
 his genius, for which we are so much indebted to the managers of the 
 British Institution, it were as idle as unjust to dwell on minutiae, or 
 partial defects, occasioned solely by his searching after beauties which 
 no English painter has found in so great a perfection as himself. 
 Upon due reflection, therefore, when the void be considered over 
 which he passed, to arrive at his professional eminence, the asto- 
 nishment ought to be, not that he produced so many, but so few ex- 
 ceptionable works : and even of those it is no exaggerated praise to 
 
 * It was even more than insinuated by the person alluded to, that Sir Joshua Rey- 
 nolds was wanting in common honesty, in not having gratuitously repainted the portraits 
 oF those sitters whose pictui-es had become faded ! 
 
118 
 
 DEFENCE OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 say, that as long as the true principles of art are admired, even his 
 ' faded pictures' will be found to possess a superiority which has not 
 been equalled by the best productions of the British school." * 
 
 " If any apology were necessary," observes Mr. Northcote, " for 
 Sir Joshua's mode of practice, it may be found in his own words, in one 
 of the fragments as preserved by Mr. Malone ; there he says, ' I was 
 always willing to believe that my uncertainty of proceeding in my 
 works, that is, my never being sure of my hand, and my frequent al- 
 terations arose from a refined taste which could not acquiesce in any 
 thing short of a high degree of excellence. I had not an opportunity 
 of being early initiated in the principles of colouring : no man, 
 indeed, could teach me. If I have never been settled with respect to 
 colouring, let it at the same time be remembered, that my unsteadi- 
 ness in this respect proceeded from an inordinate desire to possess 
 every kind of excellence that I saw in the works of others, without 
 considering that there are in colouring, as in style, excellencies which 
 are incompatible with each other ; however this pursuit, or indeed 
 any other similar pursuit, prevents the artist from being tired of his 
 art. We all know how often those masters, who sought after colour- 
 ing, changed their manner ; whilst others, merely from not seeing 
 various modes, acquiesced all their lives in that with which they set 
 out. On the contrary, I tried every effect of colour, and by leaving 
 out every colour in its turn, showed every colour that I could do 
 without. As I alternately left out every colour, I tried every new 
 colour ; and after, as is well known, failed. The former practice, I 
 am aware, may be compared by those whose first object is ridicule, to 
 that of the poet mentioned in the Spectator, who, in a poem of 
 twenty-four books, contrived in each book to leave out a letter. But 
 I was influenced by no such idle or foolish affectation. My fickleness 
 in the mode of colouring arose from an eager desire to attain the 
 highest excellence. This is the only merit I can assume to myself 
 from my conduct in that respect.' 
 
 Life of Raphael, p. 34. 
 
PICTURES AS MERCHANDISE. 
 
 119 
 
 " The best answer, perhaps," continues, Mr. Northcote, " to all 
 the objections made to Sir Joshua's colouring, is the following 
 anecdote : 
 
 " One of these critics, who passed for a great patron of art, was 
 complaining strongly to a judicious friend, of Sir Joshua's ' flying- 
 colours,' and expressing great regret at the circumstance, as it 
 prevented him from having his picture painted by the President. To 
 all this his friend calmly replied, that he should reflect, that any 
 painter who merely wished to make his colours stand, had only to 
 purchase them at the first colour shop he might come to ; but that it 
 must be remembered, that every picture of Sir Joshua's was an ex- 
 periment of art made by an ingenious man, and that the art advanced 
 hy such experiments^ even where they failed.'''' 
 
 Upon the subject of pictures, considered as property in a pecu- 
 niary point of view, the greater stress has been laid, as it is well 
 known that, with many persons, especially in a mercantile country 
 like our own, such considerations have very material weight ; and so 
 indispensably necessary to the development of genius, and the conse- 
 quent advancement of art, does the author consider encouragement 
 and patronage, that he is particularly desirous of holding out to those 
 possessing the means, every possible inducement to come forward 
 in supporting, with a liberal and fostering hand, the very superior 
 talents which our own country must be allowed to possess ; whereby^ 
 as hath been seen, such substantial advantages may accrue to them- 
 selves, and by which, at the same time, they have it in their power so 
 materially to promote the welfare and renown of the community to 
 which they belong. Money thus bestowed may be said, like the 
 quality of mercy, to " be twice blessed ; it blesseth him that gives and 
 him that takes." 
 
 It was only after the former part of his work had been gone to 
 press, that the author was struck with the following piece of inform- 
 ation, (contained in" a very interesting weekly publication,) which is 
 so highly creditable to the parties concerned. It is, indeed, with 
 
120 
 
 LAUDABLE INSTANCE OF LIBERALITY 
 
 sentiments of real gratification, that he records instances of such sig- 
 nal and praiseworthy liberality in favour of the arts. 
 
 " Were it generally understood, that to speculate on the best 
 productions of the English school were a profitable species of traffic, 
 the active spirit of commerce, which is so marked an attribute of our 
 dearly beloved countrj-, would not only be seen bustling at our 
 exhibitions, but making morning calls at the artists' studies, to fore- 
 stall and regrate, ere the graphic wares were consigned to the market 
 of taste. We, however, could enumerate many instances of the advan- 
 tages of this species of traffic of late, and venture to anticipate, that 
 the time is not very remote, when to speculate in works of art will be 
 an object of no mean interest with the British merchant. 
 
 " A recent circumstance will serve to illustrate this presumption. 
 The well known ' Wolf and the Lamb,' a cabinet picture, which 
 does honour to modern art, painted by Mulready, was purchased by 
 our present most gracious Sovereign. It is a recent performance. * 
 The Committee of the Artists' Benevolent Fund, among other 
 plans for augmenting the means of that excellent institution, pro- 
 posed occasionally to have an engraving executed from some choice 
 specimen of the English school, to publish it, and apply the profits to 
 the furtherance of that object. His Majesty, with his accustomed 
 goodness, granted the loan of this picture. A rising artist was en- 
 gaged to execute an engraving from it for the sum of eight hundred 
 guineas ; proposals have been issued for subscriptions, and the affair 
 is in a promising state of progress. 
 
 " Messrs. Hurst and Robinson, the worthy and liberal successors 
 of that great patron of the fine arts, the late venerable Boydell, with 
 a spirit congenial to their predecessor, hearing of the plan, opened 
 a correspondence with the committee, observing, that as they under- 
 stood one of the objects for this publication was to increase the funds 
 
 * The " Wolf and the Lamb," or the representation of a great savage boy tyran- 
 nising over a meek little urchin scarcely half his size, was exhibited at Somerset House 
 in 1820. 
 
C :W. SH&HPE , SCTJIPT 
 
 THE WOXF A¥JD) THIFE LAMBo 
 
IN SUPPORT OF THE ARTS. 
 
 121 
 
 of their charitable institution, they were ready, if agreeable to 
 the committee, to take the concern on their own hands, to fulfil 
 their engagement with the engraver, pay him the proposed sum, 
 and as a douceur, to present the institution with the sum of one 
 thousand pounds !" * 
 
 * Somerset House Gazette, May 1. 1824. 
 
 B 
 
122 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 PATRONAGE NECESSARY TO THE ARTIST. THE FINE ARTS MATTER OF INCONSIDERABLE 
 
 INTEREST WITH THE PUBLIC IN GREAT BRITAIN. WANT OF ENCOURAGEMENT IN HIS- 
 TORICAL PAINTING. WORKS RELATING TO THE FINE ARTS LITTLE READ. — ASSIST- 
 ANCE OF GOVERNMENT REQUIRED IN SUPPORT OF THE ARTS. — A PURE TASTE A NATIONAL 
 
 BENEFIT. PROGRESS OF THE ARTS THE MEASURE OF REFINEMENT IN A STATE. 
 
 THEIR CULTIVATION MORE AN OBJECT OF CONCERN IN OTHER COUNTRIES. — BONAPARTE. 
 
 FRANCE. RUSSIA. ROYAL ACADEMY. BRITISH INSTITUTION. RAPID ADVANCE 
 
 OF ART IN ENGLAND NOTWITHSTANDING THE IMPEDIMENTS EXPERIENCED. EXPENSE 
 
 ATTENDING A LIBERAL PATRONAGE OF THE ARTS AND ARTISTS BY GOVERNMENT A 
 
 TRIFLING CONSIDERATION. UNFORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH HAVE CONCURRED 
 
 TO PREVENT THE INTERFERENCE OF GOVERNMENT IN SUPPORT OF THE ARTS. — MR. 
 
 FOX. MR. PITT. MR. PERCEVAL. HIS PRESENT MAJESTY. SIR JOHN LEICESTER. 
 
 MR. FAWKES. — MR. CHARLES LONG. — MR. SHEE. — SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT. 
 
 But while the writer thus stoops from that more elevated point of 
 view in which the fine arts ought ever to be held, let it not for a 
 moment be supposed that higher considerations are otherwise than 
 uppermost in his mind. Money, alas ! it is undoubtedly true, must 
 be necessarily obtained, or how is it possible for the artist to go on 
 with his work ? Money, however, is to the real votary, enamoured 
 of his art, the very last consideration in its pursuit. But as " a great 
 work," it has been well observed, " cannot now be the production of 
 indigence and obscurity, for it is the labour of years, pursued through 
 many arduous studies, and assisted by a variety of models, — requir- 
 ing a number of local and mechanical facilities, and attended, conse- 
 quently, with considerable expense," in what possible way can an 
 artist hope to succeed without patronage and support ? 
 
 " It is the want of reward," says Helvetius, " which occasions 
 the want of talents of every description." Great men will always 
 come when they are called ; — when they are supplied with the motive 
 and the means ; — when the occasion is worthy of the character, and 
 
PATRONAGE NECESSARY TO THE ARTIST. 123 
 
 the exertion is rivalled by the remuneration. Generous patronage 
 has never yet failed to produce great artists in other countries ; what 
 effects it would have in our own is worth an experiment at least, one 
 might think, to ascertain. For it is a mistake unworthy of an en- 
 lightened government to conceive that the arts, left to the influence 
 of ordinary events, turned loose upon society to fight and scramble 
 in the rude and revolting contest of coarser occupation, can ever ar- 
 rive at that perfection which contributes so materially to the perma- 
 nent glory of a state. 
 
 In Great Britain, indeed, the fine arts seem never to have been 
 viewed by the public as a national object, nor to have experienced 
 from the state that paternal protection, which less prosperous coun- 
 tries have been forward to bestow. We have been always cold, and 
 until lately most unkind, to their interest. 
 
 " That no branch of the art of painting," observes a distin- 
 guished amateur, " is calculated to produce sentiments more exalted 
 or pleasures more refined than that of historical painting, every one 
 must allow ; that none has hitherto so little flourished in this country, 
 every one must regret. 
 
 " The little ardour hitherto evinced among us in the pursuit of 
 historical painting, may be partly attributed to the slender prospect 
 which the artist has, of being adequately rewarded for so laborious 
 and so difficult a production of human intellect and hand, as an 
 excellent historical picture. The finest historical picture, held at a 
 price equal to its real value, would precisely be the work likely to 
 hang longest unsold on the walls of the British Gallery."* 
 
 The fine arts being thus acknowledged to be matter of such 
 little interest with the public, (for with the great body of the intelli- 
 gent part of the nation their influence is neither felt, nor does it seem 
 to be at all aware of their importance to the commerce and the re- 
 nown of the kingdom,) the author could have no very sanguine ex- 
 pectation that any arguments which he might be able to advance. 
 
 * Costume of the Ancients. Preface. By Thomas Hope. 
 
 R 2 
 
124 
 
 WORKS ON THE FINE ARTS 
 
 upon a subject which has been so ably handled by writers distin- 
 guished for ability, as well in the use of the pen as in that of the 
 pencil, should attract notice ; he cannot, however, feel satisfied, 
 whilst writing upon such matters, without venturing to offer his 
 feeble effort in aid of soliciting attention to a subject of such vital 
 importance, and to endeavour, if possible, to draw the minds of his 
 readers to the consideration of what is so materially connected with 
 the best interests and the respectable name of every country in the 
 civilised portion of the globe. 
 
 With a view, therefore, of impressing such sentiments on the 
 minds of the few who may be led to look into this volume, — " to stir 
 with his pebble the slumbering lake of public feeling on the subject 
 of the arts," — he ventures to point out some considerations which 
 have struck him as worthy of the serious regard of every sincere 
 well-wisher to the prosperity and reputation of his country. 
 
 In endeavouring to do this, he is not so vain as to flatter him- 
 self with the idea of advancing any thing which may not perhaps 
 have been suggested before ; much less does he pretend to arrogate 
 to himself the merit of the very able and forcible reasoning which 
 he proposes to offer on the occasion : the only aim which he aspires 
 to, is to reiterate, with the hope of being heard, the arguments that 
 have been used by other writers of well-known ability and expe- 
 rience, but which, from the apathy and indifference too generally 
 prevailing, have, it is to be feared, made little impression. 
 
 In treating upon a subject of so little interest to the public mind, 
 it could not escape the writer, that something more than a mere dry 
 disquisition on the utility of the arts must be produced, before it 
 could be expected that his work should be read. Of the necessity 
 of this, he has experienced a convincing proof, in the fate of his 
 repeated applications respecting the very printing of his work ; two 
 different booksellers of the first respectability in the metropolis 
 having, some years ago, when at the instance of his friends the author 
 first entertained the idea of giving the result of his researches to the 
 world, successively declined the publishing of it, upon the consider- 
 
NOT MUCH ENCOURAGED. 
 
 125 
 
 ation that works respecting subjects connected with the fine arts, 
 meet with no encouragement from the public. Such a reply, coming 
 from different channels, might, it may be imagined, have been suf- 
 ficient to damp the ardour of his mind ; and accordingly the thing 
 was entirely given up. In consequence however of having been again 
 urged on the subject, he was induced to repeat his application. 
 
 Judging from the success which the renewed proposal has ex- 
 perienced, it would seem that a similar feeling is found still to prevail, 
 the writer having received from one of the first publishers in town 
 the following reply, viz. 
 
 " From the uncertain demand for works connected with the fine 
 arts, we would rather decline speculating on the publication of your 
 work respecting Wilson ; should you, however, be disposed to be at 
 the expense of printing, &c., we will with pleasure publish it for you 
 on the usual terms." 
 
 Although in the publication of the author's work, j^rofit was the 
 very last thing that entered his mind, still, pecuniary considerations 
 are not to be altogether despised ; in the hope, therefore, that his 
 friends may not prove mistaken in their calculation on the occasion ; 
 and that, should such be the case, some trifling emolument may arise, in 
 aid of the very laudable and benevolent institution, for the benefit of 
 which the present volume is intended to be sold, he has hesitated no 
 longer in putting it in print ; trusting, that as " charity covereth a 
 multitude of sins," the present undertaking may not, through the kind- 
 ness and liberality of the public, be reckoned among the number of his. 
 
 Influenced by the above-mentioned considerations, and being 
 willing to believe that the reader may, perhaps, be led to the notice 
 of that which it is the writer's ambition to enforce, viz., the pleasure 
 and the advantage which the cultivation of the fine arts cannot fail 
 to afford, not only to the individual, but to the community at large, 
 he has endeavoured to render his volume somewhat more attractive, 
 by the occasional introduction of topics, which may by some, perhaps^ 
 be thought too little connected with the subject of his work. By 
 way of apology, and in some degree of vindication, the writer cannot. 
 
126 
 
 ASSISTANCE OF GOVERNMENT 
 
 he thinks, do better than offer as his own, the words of an author, 
 who appears to have felt himself in a similar situation. 
 
 " I sensibly feel that some parts of these memoirs may be judged 
 tedious, some parts weak, and other parts not sufficiently connected 
 with the original subject ; but I apprehend that, in a variety of 
 readers, some will be pleased with what others will despise, and that 
 one who presumes to give a public dinner, must provide, as well as 
 he is able, a dish for each particular palate ; so that if I have given 
 too much, it is at my own risk, and from an earnest desire to satisfy 
 every one." * 
 
 That the patronage held forth by many individuals and noble 
 characters needs no spur, the author is most ready to allow ; the 
 means, indeed, projected by other spirited individuals in opulent 
 stations, for extending and perpetuating the works of British masters, 
 fall short in no degree of the most fervid energies and examples of 
 which any country has been able to boast. But it is impossible to 
 resist the conviction, that, unless the government can be induced to 
 show some sensibility towards their interests, the arts, as liberal orna- 
 ments and moral agents, as instruments to promote refinement and 
 preserve the fame of a people, (by which is meant more particularly 
 the epic style, or historical painting,) must at no very distant period 
 be utterly extinguished among us. No other resource, indeed, seems 
 left for them but in the liberality — in the policy of the state ; and un- 
 less some public exertion be made in their favour, they must sink under 
 the difficulties which neither zeal, industry, nor genius can withstand. 
 
 "What is thewonder," observes a writerof much discernment, " of 
 every enlightened foreigner who visits this country ? It is, that out 
 of thousands and millions voted by parliament, nothing is proposed 
 for the encouragement of historical painting. Sculpture is fairly en- 
 couraged ; but painting is positively thwarted. The directors of the 
 British Institution, who deserve the sincere thanks of every friend to 
 taste and refinement, for having raised the value of British art. 
 
 * Northcote's Life of Reynolds. 
 
REQUIRED IN SUPPORT OF THE ARTS. 
 
 127 
 
 applied to the government for the small sum of five thousand pounds 
 annually, to assist them in their meritorious endeavours, and this 
 small sum was refused ! What would Denon say to this ? The present 
 state of historical painting in England is owing to the energy of its 
 artists' minds, backed, certainly, by the laudable institution which I 
 have mentioned. And, to be sure, there is some consolation, or 
 rather cause for exultation, in this very circumstance. Yes ! energy 
 of mind, and vigour of talent, will force their way to greatness, in 
 spite of every neglect, and of every obstruction, that tasteless apathy 
 can plant in their path ; — and the painters of England are making 
 their way in a nobler track, and at a swifter rate, than any others of 
 the present time, although they have no public patronage, and 
 almost no natural encouragement, — although the government denies, 
 and individuals neglect them, — although the fogs of the nation are 
 thick, and its days are short, and its people, generally, not prone to 
 run their pretensions to taste before their actual feelings." * 
 
 When we consider the very trifling charge at which all the great 
 objects resulting from an enlightened national patronage of the arts 
 might be obtained ; it seems extraordinary that a people, generous 
 to prodigality in every other department of expense, should, in this 
 instance, have so long betrayed a parsimony as ungracious as it is 
 ineffectual. Can it be thought consistent with the liberality, the dig- 
 nity, the glory, or the sound and comprehensively understood 
 interests, of this great empire, to remain the only example of a 
 civilised nation indifferent to those softeners of human life, those 
 refiners of the rough and drossy ore of humanity, the support and 
 protection of which have been, in all ages and countries, amongst the 
 primary objects of politicians and the philosopher? Shall it be said 
 of Britain, that from the millions supplied by her industry and wealth, 
 to answer the exigencies of the state, for all the purposes of power 
 and commerce, not a sovereign can be spared to promote her moral 
 ascendancy, — her intellectual triumphs; to save her arts from utter 
 
 * Scott's Visit to Paris. 
 
128 
 
 TRUE PATRONAGE. 
 
 extinction, or to co-operate with those praiseworthy efforts, which 
 oppressed and desponding individuals have made with such perse- 
 verance and success. In vain, however, will it be expected, that they 
 can maintain the honourable position they have taken, if timely suc- 
 cours are not afforded to them ; if the spirited sallies of genius are 
 not seconded by those resources of vigour and defence, which the 
 state only can effectually supply ; and which the peculiar desertion of 
 all the ordinary powers of support has rendered indispensable to their 
 very existence. 
 
 The object is, surely, well worth an exertion, for our morals are 
 materially connected with our arts, and a good taste not only refines, 
 but reforms. But as a state becomes enriched, not by the collection 
 of ancient coins in the cabinets of the curious, but by the active circu- 
 lation of its present currency ; so, also, a pure taste is established in a 
 nation, not by hoarding old pictures in the galleries of the great, but 
 by the employment of its living talents, and the circulation of its arts. 
 
 The patronage so generally dispensed in Greece and in Italy, 
 without which the arts could never have attained their high meridian, 
 was for the protection of living genius ; and they by whom it was so 
 dispensed, sought no other collections than the works of native and 
 living artists. On any other ground, there can be no such thing as 
 patronage. Nothing else is worthy the name. The true and gener- 
 ous patron of great works selects those which are produced by talents 
 existing around him. By collecting from other countries, he may 
 greatly enrich himself, but can never give celebrity to the country in 
 which he lives. " The encouragement extended to the genius of a 
 sino-le artist in the hio;her classes of art," to use the words of the late 
 President of the Boyal Academy, " though it may produce but one 
 single original work, adds more to the celebrity of a people, and is a 
 higher proof of true patriotic ardour, and of a generous love for the 
 progress of art, than all the collections that were ever made by the 
 productions of other countries, and the expenditures that were ever 
 bestowed in making them." * 
 
 * Gait's Life of West. 
 
A PURE TASTE A NATIONAL BENEFIT. 
 
 129 
 
 A pure taste is of the first order of national benefits ; it is a 
 talisman which adorns every thing that it touches, within the magic 
 circle of its sway ; — there is nothing too high for its influence or too 
 low for its attention ; and while it mounts on wings of fire, with 
 the poet and the painter, " to the highest heaven of invention," it 
 descends with humble diligence to the aid of the mechanic at the 
 anvil and the loom. 
 
 Pre-eminence in the polite arts is, indeed, a distinction worthy the 
 ambition of a powerful state, (as no enlightened observer of mankind 
 has ever hesitated to assert,) and the possession of a pure taste 
 which, wherever it exists, like a p'enetrating spirit, purifies and im- 
 proves, informs and animates, the whole mass of national ability, 
 from the lowest example of its application to the highest exercise of 
 its power, is an object of the greatest interest, not only to the painter 
 but to the politician — to the moralist as well as to the manufacturer. 
 
 " The progress of the arts in every country is the exact and 
 exclusive measure of the progress of refinement, — they are recipro- 
 cally the cause and effect of each other ; and hence we accordingly 
 find that the most enlightened, the most envied, and the most inte- 
 resting periods in the history of mankind are precisely those in which 
 the arts have been most esteemed, most cultivated, and have reached 
 their highest points of elevation. To this the bright aeras of Alex- 
 ander the Great and Leo the Tenth owe their strongest, their most 
 amiable, and their most legitimate claims to our respect, admiration, 
 and gratitude ; this is their highest and their only undivided honour ; 
 and, if not the column itself, it is certainly (to borrow a metaphor 
 from a celebrated orator) * the Corinthian capital of their fame.' "* 
 
 That the governments of other nations are actuated by views 
 far more extended and enlightened than our own, as far as regards 
 the subject under consideration, it would be most easy to show, there 
 being examples without end of their liberality in the support and en- 
 couragement of the arts. 
 
 * Opie's Lectures. 
 S 
 
130 
 
 BONAPARTE. — FRANCE. 
 
 Whatever may be thought of the late Emperor of the French, 
 or the unjustifiable means which he used to accomplish his end, it is 
 allowed, on all hands, that to exalt into notice the reputation and 
 renown of the empire which he had so fraudulently usurped, was the 
 grand and ultimate object which ever influenced his mind. To effect 
 this, though arms was his trade, what, let it be asked, were the 
 means which he used ? The plunder which the Louvre so lately 
 contained, — the academies at home, — the very numerous ccoles 
 centrales formed in the different departments under his control, — 
 the splendid establishments, and the unexecuted projects connected 
 with art, sufficiently testify in what, according to his view of things, 
 the glory and the prosperity of a nation consist. 
 
 " Fas est, et ab hoste doceri." * 
 
 " So far back as the reign of Louis the Fourteenth, French stu- 
 dents of promise used to be sent, at the public expense, to a French 
 academy, which, for the purpose of placing them at once in the very 
 midst of the finest remains of ancient art, had been established in 
 the very centre of Rome ; and notwithstanding the French govern- 
 ment has caused" (this was published in 1809) " so many of the 
 movable chef-d' oeuvres of Italy to be transported to the heart of 
 France itself, it nevertheless has still improved even the establish- 
 ment at Rome, in order that French artists might retain the advan- 
 tage of contemplating and of studying the many immovable monu- 
 ments of ancient art, which must live and die in their native soil." f 
 
 It is not proposed to intrude upon the reader an enumeration of 
 the examples which neighbouring states afford, where every where 
 around us may be seen the liberal efforts which their respective go- 
 vernments have made, and are still making, towards the accomplish- 
 ment of so desirable an end. There is one instance, however, which, 
 as it is belonging to an empire fast rising into eminence in the scale 
 of the civilised world, shows so clearly the sentiments of its rulers, and 
 
 * " Receive instruction from an enemy." f Costume of the Ancients, by T. Hope. 
 
RUSSIA. 
 
 131 
 
 how very much they consider its advancement to depend on the culti- 
 vation of taste, that I cannot refrain from noticing it here. 
 
 In the Academic Correspondence for 1803, may be found the 
 following communication from the secretary of the Imperial Academy 
 of Painting of Petersburgh, viz. " The munificence of our sovereign 
 is unquestionably the most solid and infallible support that can be 
 found for the advancement of our artists. Influenced by this princi- 
 ple, his majesty, the reigning emperor, has deigned not only ,to 
 increase the salaries of the professors and other persons employed 
 in the academy, but still further to extend his bounty by lately ap- 
 propriating, for the maintenance of the institution, the annual sum 
 of 146,000 roubles, instead of sixty thousand formerly assigned for 
 that purpose, and by moreover adding the yearly sum of 10,000 
 roubles for the payment of those artists whose works shall be judged 
 worthy of adorning public institutions." 
 
 In another part of the same communication will be seen the fol- 
 lowing passage : " The academy has had the advantage of experi- 
 encing a fresh proof of his majesty the emperor's favour, by seeing 
 several of its members recently decorated with various orders of the 
 empire." 
 
 Shall England, then, so wealthy, so exalted, and so renowned for 
 every thing else, be the only country indifferent, in a national point of 
 view, to the advancement of the fine arts ? Forbid it heaven ! 
 
 Could but government be induced to come forward in a liberal 
 manner, in support of so interesting a cause, the effects likely to be 
 produced in this country, by the animating powers of national patron- 
 age, are beyond calculation ; and there is the strongest reason for 
 believing, that if the field of taste were properly protected, it would 
 not prove 
 
 " A soil ungrateful to the tiller's care." Dryden. 
 
 For without any adequate assistance, nay, obstructed and oppressed 
 by circumstances peculiarly hostile to their interests, the arts of Eng- 
 
 s 2 
 
132 
 
 ROYAL ACADEMY. -BRITISH INSTITUTION. 
 
 land have already advanced beyond our hopes, and taken precedence 
 of their age. What might we not, therefore, anticipate from their 
 exertions, were they but to experience those inspiring proofs of 
 public estimation, which, in all former instances, have been essential 
 to their existence ? 
 
 It may not, perhaps, be so generally known, especially to those 
 little conversant with subjects relating to art, that of those institu- 
 tions which have been formed in this country (the British Museum 
 excepted) for the cultivation of the arts, the public stand no way in- 
 debted to the state, either for their foundation or their support. 
 
 The Royal Academy, an establishment which ought to be 
 national and comprehensive ; which should include within its walls 
 every thing that is essential, expedient, or inviting to the progress of 
 the student ; which should rest on a foundation worthy of tiie freest, 
 the richest, the most powerful, and the most generous people on 
 earth, and which, by foreigners, is supposed to be a splendid example 
 of public munificence, derives its income from the disinterested 
 labour of artists ; possesses not a single original example of the old 
 masters ; and, excepting the advantage of apartments in Somerset 
 House, has not, for many years, received the smallest assistance from 
 the state ! * 
 
 The British Institution, formed expressly for the improvement 
 of the public taste, with a view to the encouragement of the arts, has 
 received, excepting the king's name, neither aid nor countenance 
 from the state. 
 
 If under such disadvantages, the arts have risen to so pre-eminent 
 a pitch in this country ; to what a degree of splendour might we not 
 expect them to attain, were but stronger stimuli applied in their cul- 
 tivation, and without which, indeed, they may be expected rather to 
 degenerate than advance ; and the writer has no hesitation to assert, 
 
 * " As there is no national fund furnished for the support of its schools of instruc- 
 tion, the sums raised for that important object are only derived from the multitudes 
 who flock thither, and who pay their shilling for the sight." — Somerset House Gazette, 
 May 1. 1824. 
 
fiiHuluuL ly imi'^TjimifU.J^i} CUvelmii Street .Fit iroy Scjuare .loiuLon Septvji.iSoit 
 
RAPID ADVANCE OF ART IN ENGLAND. 
 
 133 
 
 that from the productions of living genius, at this moment in Great 
 Britain, might beproduced examples of excellence in every department 
 of art, that would adorn the noblest collections, and reflect honour on 
 any age or nation ; " for it is no flattery to the present aera in Britain, 
 to say," in the words of Mr. W est, " that in no age of the world have 
 the arts been carried in any country to such a summit as they now 
 hold among us, in so short a period as half a century at most. 
 Amongst the Greeks, some centuries had elapsed amidst no little 
 emulation in the arts before they obtained an Apelles. In modern 
 Italy, without going so far back as we might, it took up a century 
 from the appearance of Massaccio to the perfection of Raffaelle. If 
 then the British School has risen so much more rapidly to that cele- 
 brity in art, which it is too well known and established to need any 
 illustration here, what should hinder her professors from becoming 
 the most distinguished rivals of the fame acquired by the Greeks and 
 Italians, with a due perseverance in the studies which lead to perfec- 
 tion, and with those encouragements and supports of patronage 
 which are due to genius?" * 
 
 The testimony which has been produced, together with such ex- 
 amples of excellence as we every year witness in our public exhibi- 
 tions, sufficiently justify the author, it may be presumed, in having 
 made use of the language of praise, however lavish of it he may have 
 been when speaking of the artists of our own country, as compared 
 more particularly with those of other nations. The fact, indeed, of 
 our superiority, as Mr. West very justly observes, is too well known 
 and established to admit of a doubt ; nothing, therefore, but the sup- 
 port alluded to, is wanting to render us still more pre-eminently dis- 
 tinguished Surely, then, in concerns so important, there can be no 
 room for the consideration of petty economy, for the demurrings 
 of estimate and calculation; — there is an expense which enriches 
 and adorns a state, and an economy which impoverishes and 
 degrades it. The one is the enlightened policy of the merchant, con- 
 
 • Gait's Life of West. 
 
134 
 
 EXPENSE OF PATRONAGE 
 
 nected with the commerce of the world ; who calculates on the broad 
 scale of profit and loss, comprehends remote advantages, combines 
 complicated operations, and pours out his funds with apparent pro- 
 fusion, through a thousand outlets of hazardous adventure, secure 
 in the general result of his principles, and calmly tracing the progress 
 of his interests through all their circuitous channels of return : the 
 other, in the short-sighted solicitude of the pedlar, whose ideas are 
 confined to his counter ; who, incapable of generalised views or ex- 
 tended operations, sees not beyond the first links of vulgar advantage ; 
 but casting up, in his terrified imagination, the paltry items of daily 
 disbursement, suffers the apprehensions of expense to overcome the 
 hopes of profit, till he has neither understanding to speculate, nor 
 spirit to adventure. 
 
 It is the policy of a great nation to be liberal and magnificent ; 
 to be free of her rewards, splendid in her establishments, and 
 gorgeous in her public works. These are not the expenses that sap 
 and mine the foundations of public prosperity, that break in upon 
 the capital, or lay waste the income of the state ; they may be said 
 to arise in her most enlightened views of general advantage, to be 
 amongst her best and most profitable speculations ; they produce 
 large returns of respect and consideration from our neighbours and 
 competitors, of patriotic exultation amongst ourselves ; they make 
 men proud of their country, and, from priding in it, prompt in its de- 
 fence ; they play upon the chords of generous feeling, elevate us 
 above the animal and the machine, and make us triumph in the 
 powers and attributes of man. 
 
 As far as the interference of government would be required, 
 every thing necessary, or even expedient, to the liberal patronage of 
 the arts and artists in this powerful and wealthy empire, might be ef- 
 fected with, comparatively, a very trifling expense, and such as could 
 scarcely be felt by the public at large ; an expense, in fact, not 
 worthy a moment's consideration, when compared with the object to 
 be obtained. 
 
A TRIFLING CONSIDERATION. 
 
 135 
 
 Whatever may be the power or prosperity of a state, whatever 
 the accumulation of her wealth or the splendour of her triumphs, to 
 her intellectual attainments must she look for national estimation, 
 on her arts must she depend 
 
 " For living dignity and deathless fame." 
 
 They are the vital principle — the breathing soul of empire, which, 
 after its cumbrous body has decayed, after it has " shaken off the 
 mortal coil" of greatness, survives, in spiritual vigour, throughout the 
 long futurity of time. 
 
 " What now of all that Rome or Athens graced, 
 In war or conquest — wealth or splendour placed ? 
 Their gods — their godlike heroes, princes, powers, 
 Imperial triumphs, and time-braving towers ? 
 What now of all that social life refined, 
 Subdued — enslaved — or civilised mankind ? 
 What now remains ? — save what the Muse imparts. 
 Relate their ruins or unfold their arts." 
 
 Their influence has been acknowledged in all ages ; and their 
 interests have been protected in all countries in proportion as man 
 became more enlightened, and the principles of society have been 
 better understood. 
 
 The present and the future are alike within the grasp of their 
 power ; they harmonise the temples of the living, and they per- 
 petuate the memory of the dead. They are the crystals of immor- 
 tality, in which all the forms of greatness are imperishably fixed to 
 gratify the wondering eye of time. 
 
 If there be a nation in which we might expect more particularly 
 to behold their powers protected with public solicitude, and their 
 advancement a general concern, it is Great Britain ; for what other 
 state has such a treasure to confide to their charge ? — such triumphs 
 to transmit — such heroes to commemorate? Where shall we find, in 
 such glittering abundance, the materials of renown ? Had the ancients 
 
136 
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH PREVENTED 
 
 possessed them ; had Greece or Rome, in the zenith of their glory, 
 been able 
 
 " To boast of heroes, statesmen, bards divine, 
 That bright in Albion's happier annals shine, 
 What wondrous works had grateful taste assay'd ! 
 What monumental miracles display'd !" 
 
 In as far as relates to that assistance and support which might 
 be reasonably expected from government, through the medium of 
 those at the head of affairs in this country, it would really seem as if 
 some fatality had attended the advancement of art. On several dif- 
 ferent occasions we have known that there has been the very greatest 
 reason for believing that the matter was about to be accomplished, 
 the subject having, in more instances than one, obtained the consider- 
 ation and the consent of the minister of the day, when, unfortunately, 
 the expectations so repeatedly held out in consequence of the con- 
 viction having been brought home to his mind, of their utility to the 
 state, have always, by some unlucky chance or other, been destined 
 to meet with only disappointment and defeat. 
 
 As the circumstances and events alluded to are curious in them- 
 selves, and cannot but excite considerable interest from the novelty 
 as well as from the unhappy particulars with which they are con- 
 nected, the author will endeavour to give them in as concise a manner 
 as he is able. 
 
 Mr. Gait, in his Life of the late President of the Royal Aca- 
 demy, remarks, " how extremely sorrowful that artist was, when 
 he reflected that hitherto the British Government had done nothing 
 decidedly with a view to promote the cultivation of those arts, which 
 may be justly said to constitute the olive wreath on the brows of 
 every nation." 
 
 At the particular period that Mr. West was at Paris, it so hap- 
 pened, that, in consequence of some repairs that were going on, the 
 galleries of the Louvre were closed to the public for a time. When, 
 however, his arrival was known, a deputation from the central 
 
/ • 
 
 • — 
 
I 
 
THE INTERFERENCE OF GOVERNMENT. I37 
 
 administration of the arts, under whose care the collections were 
 particularly placed, waited on Mr. West, and informed him, that 
 orders were given to admit him and his friends at all times. Denon 
 was at the head of this deputation, and in the course of the con- 
 versation which then took place, that accomplished enthusiast ex- 
 plained to Mr. West, most circumstantially, the extensive views 
 entertained by the French Government with respect to the arts, 
 mentioning several of the superb schemes which were formed by the 
 First Consul for the decoration of the capital. The subject naturally 
 turned very much on the importance of the arts to all nations 
 aspiring to fame and eminence ; and Mr. West very soon perceived, 
 that the vast collections of trophies which adorned the Louvre, had 
 not been formed so much for ostentatious exhibition, as with a view 
 to furnish models of study for artists ; constituting, in fact, but the 
 elementary part of a grand system of national decoration, designed 
 by Bonaparte, and by which he expected to leave such memorials 
 to posterity as would convince the world that his magnificence was 
 worthy of his military glory. 
 
 In his visit to the Louvre, Mr. West was joined by Mr. Fox, 
 who was also at Paris at the same time. While viewing the pic- 
 tures, Mr. West took the opportunity of endeavouring to explain 
 in what manner he considered the cultivation of the fine arts of 
 the utmost importance, even in a commercial point of view, to Eng- 
 land. 
 
 Mr. Fox paid great attention to what he said, and observed, in 
 a tone of regret, " I have been rocked in the cradle of politics from 
 my infancy, and never before was so much struck with the advan- 
 tage, even in a political bearing, of the fine arts, to the prosperity, 
 as well as the renown, of a kingdom ; and I do assure you, Mr. West, 
 that if ever I have it in my power to influence government to pro- 
 mote the arts, the conversation that we have had to-day sliall not 
 be forgotten." The subject was also mentioned some time after- 
 wards to Mr. Pitt, who was then in power, and the proposal was 
 received by him with much apparent sincerity. But a disastrous 
 
 T 
 
138 
 
 PITT. — FOX. — PERCEVAL. 
 
 series of public events about the same time commenced ; the atten- 
 tion of the minister was absorbed in the immediate peril of the state ; 
 and he fell a victim to his anxieties, without having had it in his 
 power to further the objects of the association which had carried 
 its application before him. 
 
 At the death of his great rival, Mr. Fox came into office, and he 
 soon after called on Mr. West, and reminding him of the conversation 
 in the gallery of the Louvre, said, " It is my earnest intention, as soon 
 as I am firmly seated in the saddle, to redeem the promise that I then 
 made." But he also was frustrated in his intentions, and fell a sacrifice 
 to disease, without being able to take any step in the business. 
 
 Notwithstanding that Mr. Perceval, as it would appear, was 
 little disposed to entertain any enlightened notions on the subject 
 of the fine arts, he was, nevertheless, induced a short time before his 
 lamented death to alter his opinion concerning their utility. The 
 occasion which gave rise to this change in his sentiments was the 
 following incident : — 
 
 " At the anniversary dinner in 1812, before the opening of the 
 exhibition at Somerset House, he was present with other public 
 characters. On the right hand of the President was seated the Lord 
 Chancellor Eldon, on his left Lord Liverpool, and on the right of 
 the Chancellor Mr. Perceval. A conversation took place, naturally 
 inspired by the circumstances of the meeting, in which Mr. West 
 recapitulated what he had formerly so often urged ; and Mr. Per- 
 ceval perceiving the impression which his observations made on those 
 to whom they were particularly addressed, requested him to put his 
 ideas on the subject in writing, and he would lay it before the Prince 
 Regent. This took place on Saturday, on Wednesday Mr. West 
 delivered his memorial ; on the Friday following Mr. Perceval was 
 assassinated ; and since that time nothing further has been done in 
 the business." * 
 
 It is well known, that on one occasion his present Majesty, 
 
 * Gait's Life of West. 
 
11 
 
GEORGE THE FOURTH. 
 
 139 
 
 previously to his having ascended the throne, was pleased to honour 
 the academy with his august presence as Prince Regent, at one of 
 these anniversary dinners. The author is not just at the moment 
 able to recollect the year precisely when this memorable event took 
 place, though he is greatly inclined to believe that it was soon after 
 the period alluded to, and was, perhaps, principally occasioned by the 
 feeling then generally excited in favour of the arts, in consequence of 
 Mr. West's patriotic endeavours in their behalf. We cannot but 
 suppose, indeed, that, with the enlarged and very enlightened views 
 which his Majesty on all occasions entertains, he could not fail to 
 be impressed with a course of reasoning, and with arguments so un- 
 answerably conclusive. The circumstance made much noise at the 
 time, and the most sanguine hopes were then entertained by all 
 well-wishers to their country and the arts, (the newspapers of the 
 day teemed with expressions of the kind,) that some further steps 
 would be taken, which might tend to bring into notice and distinc- 
 tion the hitherto neglected arts of our country. 
 
 That his Majesty has not remained unmindful of such import- 
 ant considerations, his donation to the academy of casts from the 
 antique, and other marks of his royal attention to the establishment, 
 sufficiently testify. * But it is well known to every one, that, in this 
 country, the public purse is not at the disposal of the sovereign ; and 
 that, unlike the roubles of Russia or the Napoleons of France, the 
 money of John Bull is far differently dispensed ; for, however wil- 
 lingly inclined our excellent monarch may be to " increase" (if that 
 were possible to be increased or added to, which never had any ex- 
 istence at all) " the salaries of the professors :" and to encourage the 
 art, by " adding a yearly sum for the payment of those artists, whose 
 works should be judged worthy of adorning public institutions f," no 
 such power, all-powerful as a king of Great Britain is acknowledged 
 
 • The order for the purchase of the Angerstein collection was given subsequently 
 to the writing of the above observations. 
 
 f Vide Academical Correspondence, as above quoted. 
 
 T 2 
 
140 
 
 SIR JOHN LEICESTER. — MR. FAWKES. 
 
 to be, is thought fit to be delegated to his hand, until sanctioned by 
 the concurrent voice of the people of his realm. 
 
 Thus, it appears, that in every other country the fine arts have 
 been considered, in a political point of view, as objects deserving of 
 countenance and support. Surely, then, it is high time, in this 
 enlightened age, and in such prosperous times, that public exertion 
 be made in their favour, and that something like patronage and liberal 
 encourao-ement should emanate from government. 
 
 With every other rank in the community possessing the means, 
 nothing has been wanting, as far as opportunity or ability could 
 allow. The late King, the great patron of art, has well done his 
 share ; his present Majesty has performed a great deal ; the nobil- 
 ity and opulent gentry of the land have been singularly conspicuous 
 in their exertions ; and the splendid collections of paintings, the 
 works of English artists alone, and which are with so much liberality 
 allowed to be seen in the galleries, especially, of Sir John Leicester 
 and Mr. Fawkes, sufficiently testify, that neither patronage nor 
 encouragement, liberality nor munificence, are wanting to give spur 
 to the talent or the exertions of our professors ; besides which, num- 
 bers of individuals, in addition to those above named, have, as far as 
 their circumstances would permit, been forward in their endeavours 
 to patronise and support the artists of the day. 
 
 Nothing then remains for us to desire or to hope, but that, since 
 three successive ministers, men of established ability and most com- 
 prehensive in their views, have not hesitated to express their wishes 
 and intentions, founded upon sound reasoning and mature deliber- 
 ation, of encouraging the arts, some subsequent premier may be 
 found, who shall be influenced by feelings equally patriotic. What 
 an opportunity is here open to such a one for acquiring immortality 
 and fame ! Acting, too, under the sanction of names so respectable 
 and revered as those above mentioned, his predecessors, how very 
 greatly must that weight of responsibility be diminished, which, it is 
 possible, he might be apprehensive to incur ! Let us not despair ; the 
 ministers now in power have already evinced themselves possessed 
 
MR. CHARLES LONG.-MR. SHEE. 
 
 141 
 
 of enlarged and superior minds, friendly to the arts ; and we cannot 
 but confidently hope, that a subject of such importance may be 
 brought forward by some patriotic adventurer, (to the Honourable 
 Mr, Charles Long, the public stand eminently indebted, for his 
 repeated and successful exertions in this way,) as an object for their 
 mature deliberation, and that it will finally be determined upon in a 
 manner at once creditable to the nation, and effectually advantageous 
 to the cultivation of taste. 
 
 As, generally speaking, the writers who have urged such con- 
 siderations have been artists, and may, therefore, however unjustly 
 (for with very few exceptions, they will ever be found most liberal- 
 minded men), be considered as more particularly interested ; the 
 author ventures to inform his readers, that no such objection can be 
 here entertained, he being fortunately in a situation which renders 
 him altogether independent of any pecuniary advantage to be derived 
 from a profession as honourable to the artist as it is to the com- 
 munity. 
 
 The sole motive which influences him on this occasion is the 
 anxious and patriotic desire of seeing the arts, hitherto so much 
 neglected in this great and powerful kingdom, rise to that rank and 
 estimation, to which, under less unfavourable circumstances, there is 
 every reason to believe they must necessarily attain. 
 
 In his verv earnest endeavours to excite some degree of interest in 
 their behalf, the writer has been unwarily led to enlarge very much 
 beyond his original purpose ; but the subject springs from his heart, 
 and pours unpremeditated through his pen. He set out with a view 
 of advancing a few incidental remarks, but he has followed up the 
 theme, till he forgot his original intention, and, on looking back, he 
 is surprised to think how far he has wandered. He should, at the 
 same time, consider himself deficient in candour, did he not confess 
 that for many of the foregoing observations and valuable remarks, he 
 stands indebted to the able and instructive writings of Mr. Shee, 
 whose Rhymes, and whose Elements of Art, cannot be too often 
 read, or sufficiently admired. As it is not improbable that the marks 
 
142 
 
 NATIONAL GALLERY. 
 
 usually adopted as indicating quotation or extract, may be accident- 
 ally omitted in the printing of his work, the author takes this oppor- 
 tunity distinctly to declare, that to figure in borrowed plumes is neither 
 his intention nor desire, and that he is no way ambitious to gain 
 credit to himself, for that which another may fairly lay claim to as 
 his own. 
 
 As it too evidently appears, that works of this nature, notwith- 
 standing the zeal or ability with which they may be penned, are not 
 the manual with readers in the general class, he has been pre- 
 sumptuous enough to hope, that the arguments and observations 
 borrowed from other writers, may, by coming under a new form, 
 possibly excite curiosity afresh, and thereby attract that interest and 
 attention which they have ceased, perhaps, so extensively to obtain. 
 If in this supposition the writer shall prove to be under mistake, 
 the consolation is still left to him, of feeling, in some degree, sure, 
 that at least the attempt to awaken the public mind on a matter 
 of such infinite importance, will hardly be considered a subject of 
 blame. 
 
 Though he is most highly gratified to find that, since nearly the 
 completion of his work, the subject of the fine arts has engaged, in a 
 more particular manner, the attention of government, and that a 
 national gallery is at length determined upon, towards the furnish- 
 ing of which, the purchase of a very splendid collection of pictures 
 has been actually made ; still he feels anxious that further steps should 
 be taken, and that the patronage of the state be extended, as in other 
 countries^ towards our practitioners in art, and in support, especially 
 of historical painting, which, he laments to say, bids fair to become 
 almost unknown in this country ; the fact being notorious, that more 
 than one of our artists, of distinguished abilities in that line, has found 
 it necessary, from the mere want of encouragement, to abandon his 
 pursuit, and to take up with portrait painting, as the only means by 
 which an independence is to be obtained. 
 
 The writer cannot dismiss this subject, without noticing the un- 
 exampled liberality of our giant of an amateur, (whose works would do 
 
aOPPNEE. Jt.A. 
 
 Itihliah^d. by John MitrrxLy. AlhanMrU^ StreriJS^. 
 
SIR GEORGE BEAUMONT. 
 
 143 
 
 honour to any professor in the world,) Sir George Beaumont, Bart., 
 who, with a patriotism and a munificence beyond all praise, has 
 made the voluntary offer of contributing his most valuable collection 
 of paintings, in aid of, and by way of nucleus, to the formation of an 
 establishment hitherto so long and so very anxiously desired. 
 
144 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 PERFECTION IN COLOURING DIFFICULT OF ATTAINMENT. — THE ENGLISH SCHOOL SUPERIOR 
 
 TO EVERY OTHER, ESPECIALLY IN THAT PART OF THE ART. ALSO IN BOTH PAINTING 
 
 AND SCULPTURE. MISTAKE ON THIS HEAD WITH MANY OF OUR COUNTRYMEN TRAVEL- 
 LING ABROAD. CONSEQUENT NEGLECT OF PATRONAGE AT HOME. EXHIBITION, 
 
 SOMERSET HOUSE. CANOVA. CHANTRY. ENGLISH SCULPTORS. SUBJECT OF 
 
 COLOURING RESUMED. LOUTHERBOURG. DU FRESNOY. ANECDOTE OF A GERMAN 
 
 PAINTER. MANY PERSONS INCAPABLE OF DISTINGUISHING COLOURS. REMARKABLE 
 
 INSTANCES OF SUCH DEFICIENCY. EXAMPLE IN WHICH THE FACULTY IS POSSESSED IN 
 
 AN EXTRAORDINARY DEGREE. A CHARACTER BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. — EXCEL- 
 LENCE OF HIS LITERARY COMPOSITIONS. 
 
 In treating upon the works of Sir Joshua Reynolds, it was remarked 
 how very difficult a task it has ever been found to copy, or even to 
 come near to, the exquisite beauty of his colouring ; so true, indeed, 
 is this, that it becomes sufficient almost to deter any one who 
 is possessed of the power of distinguishing and appreciating its 
 excellence, from making even the attempt. The observation applies 
 in nearly an equal degree to the colouring of Wilson also j for except- 
 ing, perhaps now and then, in the pictures of Turner, Calcott, and 
 others of our own artists, how very rarely do we see any thing that 
 can come at all into competition with it. 
 
 That such is actually the case, no one who has practised or is 
 conversant with the art, and fully acquainted at the same time with 
 the skill and the knowledge required in its process, can do otherwise 
 than fairly acknowledge. 
 
 When we consider, therefore, that the very same kind of ma- 
 terials which Sir Joshua and Wilson are known to have used are to 
 be had every day, and that these artists made no secret of their 
 method in using them, one cannot help not only suspecting, but 
 we must naturally be led to conclude, that something more than mere 
 correctness of eye is required, in order to judge of the nice discri- 
 
COLOURING. 
 
 145 
 
 mination of colours, and that the difficulty here spoken of does not 
 arise so much from any deficiency in the sense of seeing, as from 
 some incapacity in the intellect of the artist. This observation is in 
 conformity with what was hinted at before, when speaking of the 
 faculty of judging of the relation and harmony of colours in general, 
 and which, like a fine ear for music, has always appeared to the writer 
 to be no other than an intellectual gift of nature, the absence of 
 which no practice or observation can ever supply ; insomuch as 
 such endowment depends more on the peculiar faculties of the mind 
 than the organ of sense, and without which it is not possible so much 
 as even to discover, much less to copy, the exquisite beauties and 
 intricacies of fine colouring. 
 
 And such appear to have been the sentiments of Richardson, 
 when he informs the student, that " he who would be a good colour- 
 ist himself, must practise much after, and for a considerable time 
 accustom himself to see, well coloured pictures only ; but even this 
 will be in vain, unless he have a good eye, in the sense as one is said 
 to have a good ear for music ; he must not only see well, but have 
 a particular delicacy with relation to the beauty of colours, and the 
 infinite variety of tints."* 
 
 The observations, indeed, which the author has himself been 
 able to make during the course of a considerable number of years, 
 have been quite sufficient to convince him of the extreme difficulty 
 of attaining to excellence in this part of the art, and to incline him 
 to be strongly of opinion that the perfection of that power of per- 
 ception, whereby we distinguish colours, is a faculty of much more 
 rare occurrence than that which manifests itself by the assistance of 
 the ear. 
 
 When one reflects upon the prodigious multitude of painters 
 in the many different schools on the Continent, together with those 
 of our own country, who have followed the art of painting during 
 any given period, take for instance the last fifty years, and when it is 
 
 * Richardson's Theory. 
 U 
 
146 
 
 PERFECTION IN COLOURING 
 
 considered how very few, out of that immense number, have attained 
 any real perfection ; we must naturally be led to conclude, and it 
 cannot but be observable even to those unacquainted with its diffi- 
 culties, that to arrive at excellence, in any one branch of it, is an 
 object of no easy attainment, let a man be gifted with powers ever 
 so great, or let his exertions and perseverance be ever so strenuous 
 and unremitted. 
 
 Among the vast concourse of painters, whose practice on so 
 many occasions has been attended to by the author, more particularly 
 in the galleries of Dresden and Vienna, in the first of which, especi- 
 ally, may be continually seen great numbers from all parts of the 
 world, and in which he himself studied for many weeks, or rather 
 months at a time ; as well as in those of Munich, Dusseldorf, Hanover, 
 Berlin, Florence, and the Louvre, not to mention the students in the 
 art in our own country ; it has always very forcibly struck him, 
 that the want of this delicate feeling for, and nice discrimination 
 of, colours, was more observable than the absence of any other- 
 quality. 
 
 In most of the other parts of painting, viz. of composition, of 
 drawing, claro-oscuro, &c. where even natural ability be wanting, the 
 deficiency is, not unfrequently, made up, in a certain degree, by 
 assistance derived from either downright plagiarism, or the study of 
 the works of such masters as have excelled in any particular branch 
 of the art; and many a tolerable picture has thus been produced, 
 unexceptionable, perhaps, in each of these several respects ; but in 
 the 9,rticle of colour, the difficulty of attaining to excellence becomes 
 almost as great in making a copy, as it does in the attempt to paint 
 an original picture, the requisite " eye for colour" being the same 
 in both cases, as well for distinguishing it in the original, as for pro- 
 ducing it in the copy, and for which no equivalent or substitute can 
 possibly be found. 
 
 So convinced indeed is the writer of this, and the rarity of the 
 requisite endowment, that he has little doubt, were it possible for 
 the experiment to be tried, that if the several degrees of merit of 
 
fp) m ^ lyi) If,"' r\T 
 
DIFFICULT OF ATTAINMENT. 147 
 
 each particular picture, (such, only, it is meant, as could boast of any 
 tolerable pretensions to excellence,) out of the whole mass produced 
 in the different schools of Europe during any given period, could 
 be arranged according to some such method as that adopted by 
 Mons. De Piles ; that is, in " a kind of balance, in which, on one 
 side, is set down the painter's name, and the most essential parts of 
 his art, in the degree he possessed them, and on the other side 
 their proper weight of merit, so as by collecting all the parts as they 
 appear in each painter's works, one might be able to judge how much 
 the whole weighs * ;" if in pursuance of such a plan we were to form 
 a catalogue, divided into columns, assigning to each particular pic- 
 ture the precise degree of perfection which it contained in the several 
 parts of the art, viz. composition, design, colouring, drawing, &c. ; 
 if after such a catalogue was properly arranged and filled up, we 
 were to add together the several items in each of these columns, 
 there can be little reason for hesitation in believing, that the one 
 assigned to the department of colouring would turn out to be by 
 much the most deficient of them all, after the sum total had been 
 found. 
 
 Supposing, however, for a moment, that it might be practicable 
 for an aggregate of this nature to be obtained, the writer does not 
 scruple to give it as his very decided opinion, that of the many 
 excellencies which distinguish the British school above those of 
 every other country, taken in a body, (for there are many individuals, 
 it cannot be doubted, of deservedly high reputation and abilities in 
 most of them,) in no one part of the art will the superiority of our 
 countrymen be more obviously conspicuous than in that under con- 
 sideration. 
 
 In making the above assertion, the writer is not aware of being 
 influenced by one single grain of partiality, however anxious he most 
 undoubtedly is for the reputation and the honour of the English 
 school. Respecting the truth of what is maintained concerning our 
 
 De Piles's Principles of Painting. 
 U 2 
 
148 
 
 SUPERIORITY OF THE ENGLISH SCHOOL. 
 
 own artists, as compared with those at least of Italy, France, and 
 the whole German empire, at the present day, he can bear tes- 
 timony, having carefully examined the works of most of their pro- 
 fessors. As to any others, that is to say, what the countries of the 
 north, beyond Prussia, may be able to produce, he cannot venture, 
 on equally certain grounds, to make a similar assertion respecting 
 them, not having visited those countries ; no one specimen, however, 
 that he has witnessed, has at all given him reason for believing that 
 they may not, without any injustice whatever, be ranked rather in a 
 subordinate, than in a superior class. 
 
 That there are most able artists on the Continent, it would be 
 perfectly unfair to deny ; and in many departments of the art, more 
 especially in accuracy of outline and academical knowledge of the 
 figure, not a few who greatly excel. Generally speaking, however, 
 there cannot be a doubt of the superiority of our own, not only in 
 the department of colouring, but in painting altogether ; and, I will 
 add, in sculpture also, notwithstanding that many of our countrymen, 
 unaccustomed perhaps to the consideration of such matters, are 
 often led, during a temporary residence on the Continent, to suppose 
 the reverse, and not unfrequently to imbibe the mistaken opinion, 
 that out of Italy nothing of real excellence, in the way of sculpture, 
 can possibly be obtained. Under this erroneous impression it is, that 
 large sums are frequently expended by Englishmen upon foreign 
 sculptors and painters abroad, which might have been so much more 
 patriotically employed in the encouragement of our own artists at 
 home ; and not unfrequently with the additional advantage of pos- 
 sessing a production of far superior excellence into the bargain. 
 I know myself, from actual experience, that this is continually the 
 case, and that numbers of our young men of fortune, who previously 
 to their having crossed the channel, never once concerned themselves 
 about the fine arts, or any thing relating to them, having most likely 
 devoted their time and attention to other pursuits, and more par- 
 ticularly, perhaps, to those inviting amusements, so eagerly pursued, 
 of hunting and other sports of the field j amusements which, it must 
 
ENGLISH SCULPTORS. 
 
 149 
 
 be allowed, are at once the most manly, healthful, and beneficial in 
 every point of view, inasmuch, as they very greatly tend to induce 
 country gentlemen to reside upon their estates, and, consequently, to 
 spend their incomes at home ; I have witnessed, I observe, many 
 instances of such persons, and am hearing almost every day of still 
 more, who, the moment they get to Rome, where the arts and 
 matters connected with them form the only objects of interest or 
 concern in the place, immediately begin to turn their attention to 
 paintings and statues, and objects of virtu, feeling, no doubt, ac- 
 cording to the well known proverb, that " at Rome one must do as 
 they do at Rome and as the acquisition of knowledge in such an 
 interesting occupation cannot fail, very naturally, to induce the 
 desire with those possessing the means, of procuring to themselves 
 what is capable of affording so much enjoyment, these gentlemen do 
 not hesitate to give commissions to foreign sculptors, and to send 
 home statues, no way better than, and oftentimes very inferior to, 
 our own. 
 
 As a proof how much misled in this particular some of our 
 young men of fortune are, the author will just mention, tliat only a 
 very few years ago a friend of his, in a letter from Florence, filled 
 with expressions of rapture and delight at every thing he beheld, 
 very deliberately assured him that he had not the smallest hesitation 
 in declaring that the Venus de Medicis was, in his opinion, much 
 inferior to that of her rival by Canova ! Credat Judceus I 
 
 Without, however, detracting from the merits of foreign artists, 
 and of the last-mentioned sculptor in particular, who must, unques- 
 tionably, be ranked among the very first in his profession, still I 
 am bold enough to contend, that works have been produced from the 
 chisels of our own Nollekins, our Flaxman, our Chantry, Westma- 
 cott, and others, which will be found in no degree to sufTer by a 
 comparison with those of the Italian. This was indeed sufficiently 
 evident some few years ago, when the works of Canova were ex- 
 hibited at Somerset House. The writer well remembers that exhi- 
 bition, and has little hesitation in giving it as his opinion, that the 
 
150 
 
 NEGLECT OF PATRONAGE AT HOME. 
 
 group of Chantry, now in Litchfield cathedral, was equal to the Hebe, 
 and greatly superior to the Terpsichore of the Italian. Mr. Bailey's 
 statue of Eve, exhibited last spring at the British Institution, would 
 do honour to any collection. Is it not, then, mortifying in the high- 
 est degree, to see that source of encouragement, which might have so 
 powerful an effect towards the advancement of art in England, be- 
 stowed by Englishmen upon foreign artists abroad ? Did but such 
 considerations occur to our liberal-minded countrymen, very different, 
 I am confident, would be the result. But unfortunately so it is, and 
 so it always will be, I fear, that any article not made at hoine, and 
 consequently more difficult to be obtained, never ceases to carry with 
 it an attraction which our own products, let them be ever so faultless 
 or excellent, are very rarely found to possess. This holds not only 
 in regard to our paintings and our statues, but likewise in almost 
 every thing else, as many of our manufacturers can testify. 
 
 No one thing, in fact, is wanting but encouragement and patron- 
 age, to enable our own country to excel, in a much greater degree 
 than she even now does, every other in the arts of design ; as is 
 already the case with those of an inferior kind, in which less of the 
 intellectual is required, notwithstanding the advantages which the 
 first mentioned have hitherto enjoyed have been comparatively 
 few. 
 
 In one of the discourses delivered to the Royal Academy by 
 the late President, Mr. W est, the following observations were made, 
 viz. " Knowing, as we do, the movement of the arts on the Continent, 
 I may confidently say, that our annual exhibitions, both as to number 
 and taste, engrafted on nature, and the fruit of mental conception, 
 are such, that all the combined efforts in art on the Continent of 
 Europe, in the same time, have not been able to equal. 
 
 " Were those in power but to bestow the crumbs from the 
 national table to cherish the fine arts, we might pledge ourselves 
 that the genius of Britain would, in a few years, dispute the prize 
 with the proudest periods of Grecian or Italian art."* 
 
 * Gait's Life of West. 
 
I 
 
 ! 
 
COLOURING. 
 
 151 
 
 But to return to the subject under consideration. There is a 
 circumstance which has very frequently excited the author's surprise, 
 and respecting an explanation of which he has never until lately been 
 able to form any probable conjecture ; and that is, that a painter 
 shall seem to be alive to all the beauties of fine colouring ; shall be 
 enthusiastic in his praise of their delicacy, harmony, and admirable 
 effects ; and that this same painter, even though he be a man of 
 extensive practice, shall, when he comes to take paint and pencils in 
 hand, exhibit upon his canvass tints so very far removed in quality 
 and appearance from any thing of the kind ; this appears, indeed, an 
 unaccountable contradiction. And yet it may be continually ob- 
 served, the artist on such occasions having been, perhaps, all the 
 while totally unconscious that he had not succeeded to the full ; 
 and if it may have been a copy that he has aimed at, appearing to be 
 most thoroughly satisfied in his own mind that his imitation was 
 no way different in either the mellowness, the brilliancy, or the 
 purity of colour from that which the original picture might possess ; 
 and all this, at the same time, very possibly, without his being in the 
 least degree wanting either in that modesty or diffidence of himself, 
 which is the never-failing concomitant of superior genius and great- 
 ness of mind. 
 
 Let it not be supposed that, in stating the above circumstances, 
 allowance is omitted to be made for the full effects of that disposition 
 so universally felt, in a certain degree by all, which naturally inclines 
 even those who are most suspicious of themselves to overlook, or, 
 rather, for such doubtless is the case, to be absolutely blind to faults 
 and imperfections in any thing which they themselves have produced ; 
 or, at the same time, that the writer is otherwise than perfectly aware 
 of the unavoidable difference which is ever discoverable between a 
 picture newly painted and one of older date. Such considerations 
 have little to do with the glaring discrepancies alluded to, as those 
 persons very well know who are acquainted with the practice of the 
 art. And yet these men have eyes, and are not without judgment 
 and understanding, and the power of reflection, and might, it should 
 
152 
 
 LOUTHERBOURG. 
 
 reasonably be thought, from long practice and observation, have 
 been less liable to deception in this particular ; especially, as many 
 such artists are capable of displaying much talent, and great know- 
 ledge in their management of other branches of the art. 
 
 When such matters are duly considered, it is impossible not to be 
 struck with the difficulty of attaining to excellence in this particular 
 department of colour, and it can be no matter of surprise that it is 
 so seldom exhibited in any degree approaching to that perfection in 
 which it is to be found in some of the old masters ; who, as com- 
 pared with the almost innumerable multitude of practitioners, their 
 predecessors, contemporaries, and successors, may, indeed, well be 
 denominated " the chosen few.*^ 
 
 Many painters there are, and often very excellent ones, in other 
 respects, who go on through their whole career, without ever be- 
 coming undeceived on this head. I have not only witnessed many 
 instances of this myself, while occasionally looking at the practice of 
 different artists, but have been, moreover, well acquainted with num- 
 bers whose want of discernment in the particular here spoken of 
 has been strikingly conspicuous. Were I indeed inclined, I could 
 very readily mention more than one among those of our own school, 
 who have been painting all their lives, and during no very short ones 
 either, and talking all along of the beauties and excellence of colour- 
 ing, and yet have not advanced one step nearer the mark than when 
 they first set out. 
 
 Without intending the least disrespect to the memory or re- 
 putation of an artist deservedly admired, and who, in execution, was 
 scarcely ever surpassed, it may be mentioned, that in the latter 
 works, especially, of Loutherbourg, I never could reconcile myself 
 to the very glaring and oftentimes unharmonious tints which his 
 pictures displayed ; the very bright yellows and reds, opposed fre- 
 quently to the most powerful purples and bhies, besides many other 
 gaudy, crude, and violent oppositions, always struck me as very ex- 
 traordinary and unaccountable in an artist of so much practice and 
 experience, and who, in many respects, was certainly a delightful 
 
1. © UTHE M OUJBL G. 
 
FACULTY OF DISTINGUISHING COLOURS. 
 
 153 
 
 painter. Such a circumstance, however, is by no means uncommon, 
 examples of which may continually be seen in our present exhibi- 
 tions, and those, not unfrequently, the productions of our most 
 eminent artists. 
 
 To what possible cause are we to attribute this seeming incon- 
 gruity, or what reasons shall we assign for a deficiency so frequently 
 to be met with in men of intellect, observation, and extensive prac- 
 tice ; in a pursuit too, upon which the whole bent and power of their 
 minds have been continually and incessantly employed ? Not surely 
 to any defect in the sense of vision, but rather, I conceive, to a de- 
 ficiency in the mental powers ; and to the want of that peculiar 
 faculty of the mind, by which colours are distinguished, or, to speak 
 more technically still, to the absence of the " organ of colour." 
 
 Instances, however, are every now and then to be seen of an 
 opposite nature, in which this faculty is possessed in a remarkable 
 degree ; and when it happens that such endowment falls to the lot 
 of the practitioner in the art, its advantageous effects become pre- 
 sently seen, as the works of some of our own painters sufficiently 
 testify. Let it not, however, be imagined that, because the author 
 has dwelt so much upon the subject of this particular part of paint- 
 ing, he would depreciate the other excellencies of the art, or that, to 
 be a painter, he means to insinuate the absolute necessity of possess- 
 ing it, in a supereminent degree. Most assuredly he is far from 
 entertaining such an idea, being very well aware that, in the enumer- 
 ation of the different parts of the art, colouring does not rank as 
 the foremost ; still it cannot but be granted, that excellence therein, 
 when we do chance to meet with it, has something so almost inde- 
 scribably attractive and magical belonging to it, as to make up, in a 
 great degree, for the absence of many other requisites ; provided 
 always that the performance in which it is found is not directly 
 hostile to, and at variance with, either the acknowledged principles of 
 science, on the one hand, or a moderate degree of execution and 
 good taste on the other. 
 
 X 
 
154 
 
 FACULTY OF DISTINGUISHING COLOURS. 
 
 And such, indeed, seem to be the sentiments of Fresnoy, when, 
 in allusion to the uses and effects of colouring when properly ap- 
 plied, that is, in assistance, and not to the exclusion of other excel- 
 lencies, he not improperly calls it " the handmaid of her sister 
 Design, for whom she procures lovers by dressing, painting, orna- 
 menting, and making her appear more bewitching than she naturally 
 is ; and thus, as Dryden observes in his parallel betwixt poetry and 
 painting, it is the versification, tropes, figures, and other elegancies of 
 language and expression, the colouring of poetry, that charm the 
 reader and beautify the fable or design ; but, in both arts, if the 
 latter be mean or vicious, the cost of language and colouring will be 
 wholly thrown away, like a rich habit, jewels, and other finery, on an 
 ordinary woman, which, instead of rendering her charming, only 
 tend to illuminate and draw her defects more strongly into notice, 
 making what was in itself bad, appear ten times worse by com- 
 parison." * 
 
 Though the writer believes the power of distinguishing colours 
 incapable of being taught, or even acquired by any one to whom 
 nature has denied the particular faculty, he wishes it by no means to 
 be understood, that he is otherwise of opinion than that it may be 
 very greatly enlarged and refined by an acquaintance with the best 
 specimens of art ; or that study and observation, assisted by a know- 
 ledge of the theory of colours, are not capable of extending the 
 sphere of activity to which its manifestations belong. For, like every 
 other perception of the mind, it is open to a high degree of cul- 
 tivation ; and it has been well observed by a writer of eminence, that 
 " of the various powers and faculties we possess, there are some 
 which nature seems to have planted and reared so as to have left 
 nothing to human industry. Such are the powers which we have in 
 common with the brutes, and which are necessary to the preserv- 
 ation of the individual or the continuance of the kind. There are 
 other powers of which nature hath only planted the seeds in our 
 
 * Opie's Lectures. 
 
FACULTY OF DISTINGUISHING COLOURS. 
 
 155 
 
 minds, but hath left the rearing of them to human culture. It is by 
 the proper culture of these that we are capable of all those improve- 
 ments in intellectuals, in taste, and in morals, which exalt and dig- 
 nify human nature ; while, on the other hand, the neglect or per- 
 version of them makes it degeneracy and corruption." * 
 
 As the subject is interesting, and as it may possibly be thought 
 that the opinion entertained has been taken up upon light grounds, 
 or without due consideration, the writer proposes to enter a little 
 more fully into the investigation of its truth ; being not without a 
 hope, that by the aid of certain facts and examples which have fallen 
 within his own immediate knowledge and observation, he will not 
 be thought to have entered upon a w ild speculation only, but that 
 some of his readers may, on the contrary, be induced to think the 
 matter worthy of further consideration, and perhaps of more ex- 
 tensive enquiry also. For, assuredly, there cannot be a research 
 productive of more rational amusement, or of greater moment, than 
 that which tends, even in the remotest degree, to throw light upon 
 any thing relating to the faculties and the qualifications of our own 
 minds. 
 
 It has been remarked, that in the course of his observations 
 among the practitioners in the art, more particularly while studying 
 in different galleries on the Continent, the author had not unfre- 
 quently met with remarkable instances of deficiency in the faculty of 
 distinguishing colours ; some of these have, indeed, been curious 
 enough. As it may, perhaps, afford a degree of variety to the subject, 
 he will relate an occurrence of the kind, which came to his know- 
 ledge not by hearsay only, but was actually presented to his own im- 
 mediate observation, and with which, he conceives, the reader can 
 hardly fail to be somewhat amused. 
 
 Having had at all times a strong predilection for painting, the 
 writer formed the determination, upon his first arrival on the Con- 
 tinent, of putting himself under the tuition of some able artist, for 
 
 * Reid's Inquiry into the Human Mind. 
 
 X 2 
 
156 
 
 ANECDOTE OF A GERMAN PAINTER. 
 
 the purpose of obtaining instruction in the mechanical part of paint- 
 ing in oil. After having, therefore, made the requisite enquiry, he 
 engaged with a gentleman who was considered among the most able 
 and distinguished landscape painters of the day, in one of the prin- 
 cipal cities in Germany. 
 
 Though the works of the painter alluded to would not, perhaps, 
 have obtained any very considerable notice in this country, they 
 were, nevertheless, most highly esteemed in Germany, and through- 
 out the northern parts of Europe, and excited a very considerable 
 eagerness in many persons of rank and fortune to possess them. 
 Whatever degree of merit, however, the productions of this painter 
 might possess, he certainly had imbibed a truly sincere love for his 
 art, the very arduous pursuit of which seemed to form by far the 
 most material object in his existence. Though this artist was by no 
 means insensible to the merits of the great masters whose pro- 
 ductions he never ceased to extol, he was nevertheless decidedly of 
 opinion that it was from nature alone, after the first rudiments had 
 been learned, that any thing valuable could be ever obtained. The 
 research, therefore, into the beauties of nature was his continual 
 theme, {iiach Natur, nach Natur *, he would often repeat,) and so 
 indefatigable was he in his study and observation that he was in the 
 habit of frequently spending whole days together out of doors, in his 
 anxious endeavours to obtain a thorough knowledge of the in- 
 tricacies and combinations belonging to the different materials of 
 which landscape is composed. There was, however, one thing about 
 which, above all other considerations, he appeared more particularly 
 solicitous, and that was his very great desire to hit upon the true 
 way of giving in his pictures that rich, glowing, and harmonious 
 appearance which is presented in the sky, when illumined by the 
 splendours of the rising or the setting sun ; having taken it very 
 strongly into his head that all the great painters in landscape, not 
 excepting Claude himself, of whom more particularly he expressed 
 
 * After Nature, after Nature. 
 
ANECDOTE OF A GERMAN PAINTER. 257 
 
 himself as being a most enthusiastic admirer, had proceeded upon 
 entirely wrong principles, and had, consequently, as might very 
 naturally be expected, altogether failed in their attempts to produce 
 the desired effect. 
 
 The manner in which the sun had been represented in their 
 pictures, had, according to this artist's way of thinking, been quite 
 defective, and produced under a perfectly mistaken idea ; for, ob- 
 served he, very gravely, instead of exhibiting the disk of that lumi- 
 nary as a //g-^if-coloured object, which they invariably had, he was 
 clearly of opinion that it ought to be painted dark, the absolute truth 
 of which he conceived himself to have ascertained beyond the shadow 
 of a doubt, having repeatedly verified the fact by his own ocular 
 observation during the course of numberless experiments. 
 
 Though I did my best to enter into the nature of my instructor's 
 mode of reasoning, making at the same time, according to his direc- 
 tions, many very painful experiments, in order, if possible, to succeed, 
 and in the practising of which I at several different times nearly half 
 blinded myself, so insufferable to my naked eyes were the dazzling rays 
 of the sun ; still, in spite of all my endeavours, I was never once able 
 to see the thing in a similar light with himself The fact seemed to be, 
 that this worthy enthusiast, under the erroneous impression which 
 he had imbibed, had been so long in the habit of gazing, with his 
 eyes wide open, at the blazing orb of day, and had so repeatedly all 
 but extinguished them, they being of a conformation essentially dif- 
 ferent in every respect from those with which the bird of Jove is sup- 
 plied, that at length, as may be naturally supposed, the zealous observer 
 could literally perceive nothing at all ; that flickering indistinctness 
 excepted which ever accompanies the unprotected exposure of the 
 organs of sight to the painful and intolerable blaze of a cloudless sun. 
 
 Upon again visiting this good man, about a twelvemonth or so 
 afterwards, I was quite pleased to find him perfectly elate, and in the 
 highest spirits imaginable, he having at length succeeded, as he ex- 
 ultingly informed me, in discovering the grand desideratum, the ob- 
 ject of all his labour and research. After shaking me very cordially 
 
158 
 
 ANECDOTE OF A GERMAN PAINTER. 
 
 by the hand, he, without any further ceremony, led me into his 
 painting room : " There," said he, as we entered, " look there, I 
 have got it at last ; now you may see exactly how the sun should be 
 painted ; there's Nature herself." Upon casting my eye towards his 
 easel, I observed a landscape of considerable dimensions, in a state 
 of much forwardness, containing a large expanse of sky, glowing, 
 for the most part, with all the blended hues which the mixture of red) 
 yellow, and white is capable of producing ; in the very midst and 
 most conspicuous part of which might be seen a little, round, darkish 
 grey spot, about the size of a threepenny silver piece, and which I 
 evidently perceived he intended for nothing more or less than the 
 shining sun. The effect produced by this curious display was, as 
 may be easily imagined, ludicrous in the highest degree. One 
 might, indeed, fairly say of it with the poet, 
 
 " Qui color albus erat, nunc est contrarius albo." * Ovid. 
 
 As the author would be most extremely sorry to wound, in the 
 very remotest degree, the feelings of any one connected with the in- 
 dividual alluded to, who is now, it is to be feared, alike insensible to 
 censure and to praise, he will refrain from mentioning either his 
 name or place of abode. He was, indeed, to all appearance, a very 
 worthy character, and the writer has the greatest reason for remem- 
 bering, with sentiments of obligation and regard, his kind attention, 
 and the great solicitude with which at all times he explained, in the 
 most liberal and undisguised manner, the nature and mysteries of his 
 art, in which he had several secrets of his discovering, and such as 
 were, at least in his own estimation, singularly valuable and profound. 
 
 At the time I became acquainted with this artist, he must have 
 been very considerably above fifty years of age, and had been en- 
 gaged in the study of painting during the greater part of his life ; 
 there could be little hopes, therefore, of his ever arriving at any 
 great degree of perfection in that part of the art at present more 
 
 * " What was formerly white is now directly the reverse." 
 
FACULTY OF DISTINGUISHING COLOURS. 
 
 159 
 
 particularly under consideration ; for, however piercing his eye might 
 have been in other respects, we certainly must not reckon an " eye 
 for co/ow/'" among the number of his endowments. 
 
 " Many persons who see as clearly and distinctly as others, can- 
 not judge of colours, and do not enjoy their harmonious mixtures and 
 arrangement *," says a writer of extensive observation and enquiry. 
 
 That this is the fact, there cannot be a question, and many re- 
 markable instances are not wanting to establish the truth of it beyond 
 all manner of doubt. As, however, general assertions amount to 
 nothing like proof ; and as the author has it in his power to produce 
 them, he will lay before the reader an account of two different in- 
 stances that have come to his knowledge, of persons who were well 
 known to have exhibited, in a very extraordinary degree, a deficiency 
 in the faculty in question. 
 
 A gentleman of the first respectability in the county of Lin- 
 coln, well educated and quite a man of the world, was so extremely 
 devoid of this faculty of distinguishing colours, " that he did not 
 know pea-green from pink, or brown from green. I remember," 
 says the person who furnishes this information, " my father once 
 looking at a pale-green work-box, and asking if it were not raspberry- 
 and-cream colour." The words quoted are those used by this gen- 
 tleman's own daughter, in a letter to the author. 
 
 Notwithstanding the deficiency observable in the above-men- 
 tioned gentleman, he was in other respects a remarkably intelligent 
 man, possessing many endowments of mind, in a far higher degree 
 than is generally to be met with in other people. The peculiar 
 faculty, for instance, for which he was so much distinguished in the 
 neighbourhood in which he resided, of judging on all occasions with 
 singular accuracy respecting form, was the theme of admiration 
 among all his acquaintance; there having been scarcely any person 
 in the whole country round who was considered so good a judge of 
 either a horse, a cow, a sheep, or a hound, or indeed of any animal 
 
 * Illustrations of Phrenology, by Sir G. S- Mackensie, Bart. 
 
160 
 
 FACULTY OF DISTINGUISHING COLOURS. 
 
 whatever, not excepting the " human form divine," in as far as just 
 symmetry and proportion were concerned, as himself, although the 
 art of drawing had in no particular degree been the object either of 
 his study or attention. 
 
 Thus, it appears, that a deficiency in one particular faculty is 
 no proof of intellectual deficiency in general ; and experience every 
 day proves, that some persons excel in one power of the mind, and 
 others in another ; some may be defective, as in the above-men- 
 tioned example in one particular, and, nevertheless, at the same time 
 possess an extraordinary capacity in another ; a clear proof this, that 
 the faculties are not single but compound, and that, contrary to 
 former systems of the philosophy of the mind, there is not one ima- 
 gination, one judgment, one memory, but many. 
 
 The other instance of a similar kind is derived from authority 
 equally undoubted, the gentleman to whom it relates having been 
 also a resident in the extensive county of Lincoln. 
 
 Among many well authenticated instances of this person's defect 
 in the faculty of distinguishing colours, it may be sufficient to men- 
 tion the following ; viz. " Mr. fancied that the person who 
 
 was going to marry his daughter did not pay her proper respect in 
 coming to the wedding in a black coat, when, at the same time, the 
 coat which he had on was either blue or green, though I don't per- 
 fectly remember which." The above are again the words of the 
 writer from whom the information has been obtained. 
 
 Many instances of a similar kind might be easily produced; to 
 those, indeed, who occupy themselves in such researches, examples 
 of a like nature must be sufficiently familiar. The foregoing, how- 
 ever, will suffice to show, that the deficiency here spoken of is by 
 no means uncommon. 
 
 The author will now bring forward a case of a different kind, 
 in which the very reverse of what has been stated is exemplified. 
 This he is the better enabled to do, as there happens to be within 
 his own immediate knowledge a person possessing the distinct power 
 of perception in question, in a degree far exceeding any thing of the 
 
FACULTY OF DISTINGUISHING COLOURS. Igl 
 
 kind that he ever witnessed before, and concerning which such very 
 frequent opportunities have been afforded for observation, as could 
 only under similar circumstances have possibly occurred, at least in 
 an equal degree ; the highly gifted individual to whom he alludes 
 having been for a great many years in the number of his very in- 
 timate associates, and almost continually at hand. 
 
 Although he has never ceased to admire, and not unfrequently 
 to take advantage, in his humble way of painting, of this very sin- 
 gular aptitude, not only to perceive, but to remember and to judge 
 of the relation and the harmony of colours, he has never been able 
 until lately to account, in any satisfactory way, for a sensibility as 
 striking as it is unusual ; and which has always appeared, very evi- 
 dently, to him, totally distinct from any thing like an acquired one. 
 It was, indeed, only very recently, upon his attention having been 
 directed to the new system of enquiry concerning the nature and 
 manifestations of the human mind, that the mystery appeared, at 
 least to his own apprehension, in some degree explained. 
 
 The readiness with which this lady would at all times spon- 
 taneously, and without apparently even a thought, at once decide 
 in a manner the most correct and judicious, upon the fitness or pro- 
 priety of such or such an arrangement of colours, (in any thing 
 relating either to a picture, the furniture of a room, or the different 
 articles of dress,) has often struck him as truly remarkable, when at 
 the very same moment, perhaps, he has known others, who, although 
 assisted by mature deliberation, and the advantage of having con- 
 sidered the matter in every possible point of view, have at last been 
 obliged to acknowledge themselves incapable of making up their 
 minds as to which assortment or combination would be best suited 
 for the purpose required. 
 
 This individual having been presented as a striking example of 
 the existence of that particular faculty under consideration, the writer 
 cannot resist the opportunity afiorded him of paying his tribute of 
 regard to one, whom he has so long known with increasing admir- 
 ation and esteem, — one, in fine, whose love of nature and the arts, 
 
 Y 
 
162 
 
 LITERARY COMPOSITION 
 
 in the practice of which she eminently excels, is as sincere and ardent 
 as his own, and respecting the truth of which he may, in the lan- 
 guage of the poet, very fairly appeal to herself : — 
 
 " And witness, dear companion of my walks, 
 Whose arm this twentieth winter I perceive 
 Fast lock'd in mine, with pleasure such as love, 
 Confirm'd by long experience of thy worth 
 And well tried virtues, could alone inspire — 
 Witness a joy that thou hast doubled long. 
 Thouknow'st my praise of nature most sincere, 
 And that my raptures are not conjured up 
 To serve occasions of poetic pomp, 
 
 But genuine, and art partner of them all." Cowper. 
 
 Amongst the miscellaneous writings of Sir Joshua Reynolds, 
 to the consideration of whose works the author never fails to turn 
 with peculiar satisfaction, is a character that bears so striking a 
 resemblance to the lady in question, and affords so excellent an ex- 
 ample of that artist's powers in the use of the pen, of which some 
 persons have been disposed, very erroneously, to entertain doubts, 
 that the author is tempted to produce it in proof of the President's 
 ability in that method of delineation, and in which, it must certainly 
 be granted, he very greatly excelled, no less than in the more difficult 
 one by which he was so supereminently distinguished. " Nihil tetigit 
 quod non ornavit,^^ * 
 
 CHARACTER OF THE HONOURABLE MRS. P , BY SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS, 
 
 DECEMBER 21. 1775. 
 
 " Her amiable disposition, her softness and gentleness of man- 
 ners, endeared her to every one that had the happiness of knowing her ; 
 her whole pleasure and ambition were centered in a consciousness of 
 properly discharging all the duties of a wife, a mother, and a sister ; 
 and she neither sought for nor expected fame out of her own house. 
 As she made no ostentation of her virtues, she excited no envy ; but 
 
 * " He took nothing in hand that he did not adorn." 
 
OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 163 
 
 if there had existed so depraved a being, as to wish to wound so fair 
 a character, the most artful malignity must have searched in vain for 
 a weak part. Her virtues were uniform, quiet, and habitual ; they 
 were not occasionally put on ; she wore them continually ; they 
 seemed to grow to her, and be a part of herself ; and it seemed to be 
 impossible for her to lay them aside, or to be other than what she 
 was. Her person was eminently beautiful ; but the expression of her 
 countenance was far above all beauty that proceeds from regularity of 
 features only. The gentleness and benevolence of her disposition 
 were so naturally impressed on every look and motion, that without 
 any affected effort or assumed courtesy, she was sure to make every 
 one her friend that had ever spoken to her or even seen her. 
 
 " In so exalted a character it is scarce worth mentioning her 
 skill and exact judgment in the polite arts ; she seemed to possess, 
 by a kind of intuition, that propriety of taste and right thinking, 
 which others but imperfectly acquire by long labour and applica- 
 tion."* 
 
 * Northcote's Life of Reynolds. 
 
164 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 AN EYE FOR COLOUR, AND AN EAR FOR MUSIC, DISTINCT FACULTIES OF THE MIND. — 
 MANY REQUISITES FOR PRODUCING A FINE PICTURE. TASTE, IMAGINATION, EXECU- 
 TION, JUDGMENT, MEMORY, FACULTIES EACH DIFFERING IN THEIR KIND. ERRONEOUS 
 
 OBSERVATION OF SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. FORMER SYSTEMS OF PHILOSOPHY OF THE 
 
 HUMAN MIND. PLURALITY OF THE ORGANS, NO NEW IDEA. THE SIZE OF THE 
 
 BRAIN HAS A POWERFUL INFLUENCE ON THE MANIFESTATIONS OF THE MIND. 
 
 NOTHING NEW IN SUCH AN IDEA. ANTIQUE BUSTS. PHRENOLOGY NOT A JUST SUB- 
 JECT OF RIDICULE. NERVOUS SYSTEM. — A MISTAKE TO SUPPOSE THAT PHRENOLOGY 
 
 LEADS EITHER TO MATERIALISM OR FATALISM. FINE PICTURES CANNOT BE TOO 
 
 HIGHLY ESTEEMED. — FEAV PERSONS CAPABLE OF PRODUCING THEM. OF THE QUALIFI- 
 CATIONS NECESSARY TO FORM A HISTORICAL PAINTER. — GREAT PAINTERS HIGHLY 
 DESERVING OF OUR REGARD AND VENERATION. — LUDICROUS OCCURRENCE WHICH HAP- 
 PENED TO A PAINTER AT VIENNA. 
 
 H AVING produced examples both of perfection and deficiency in the 
 faculty under consideration, which are sufficient to evince how very 
 unequal nature is, in the distribution of that power of perception by 
 which colours are distinguished, and, consequently, how little chance 
 a painter has of succeeding in his art, who does not possess it in 
 a certain degree ; it may not be amiss to consider, a little more at 
 large, the nature and qualities of such perception, in order to make it 
 appear, according to what has been advanced, that the eye, though 
 absolutely necessary as a means whereby the perception is conveyed 
 to the brain, has far less to do with the power which enables a painter 
 to excel, than the understanding. 
 
 And first of all, the power of distinguishing colours, as well as 
 that which we call an " ear for music," can be considered as no other 
 than innate and distinct faculties of the mind, of which the eye and 
 the ear are only the necessary instruments, respectively, whereby the 
 perception is produced in the mind. This will appear from the fol- 
 lowino; considerations : — 
 
 " Perception," observes an intelligent and most indefatigable 
 researcher, " belongs to internal faculties, and cannot be exerted 
 
THE POWERS OF PERCEPTION DISTINCT. 
 
 165 
 
 without the assistance of external instruments, which are the means 
 provided by the Creator for estabhshing and keeping up a connection 
 between the external world and our minds." It is an error to sup- 
 pose that the act of perception is performed by the organ of sense ; 
 that is, that the senses, seeing, smelling, &c., act without the inter- 
 position of the brain, since without a connection with the brain, they 
 are of no use ; " it is evident, therefore, that the act of perception is 
 not performed by them, but that their use (the senses) is to convey 
 emanations, so to speak from the external world, as to enable them 
 to make impressions on the brain, from which they are transmitted 
 to the mind." * 
 
 That the powers of perception are distinct, and bestowed on 
 different individuals in different degrees, no one can for a moment 
 have a doubt, since every day's experience shows that they are ; — 
 one excels in one point, and another in another ; one in judging of 
 size, another in colour, form, &c. instances of which have been 
 already produced ; so that it is clear there must be distinct powers 
 for perceiving different qualities. 
 
 Although the power of distinguishing colours is absolutely 
 essential to the successful practice of the art, it by no means follows 
 that the faculty, even in its greatest perfection, is sufficient of itself 
 to form the painter : many, on the contrary, are the other requisites 
 necessary to constitute a mind fitted to produce excellence in this 
 most difficult art, and well, indeed, has it been observed, that a fine 
 picture may be considered an absohite " miracle," so many and 
 various are the powers required to enable the artist to produce one. 
 
 For besides the faculty of distinguishing colours, he must be 
 gifted with the still higher intellectual power that shall enable him 
 to mix and to apply them with the certainty of producing the effect 
 desired. We very well know, that many persons attempt to become 
 painters who never excel, while others fail altogether in the attempt. 
 The particular faculty here spoken of may perceive colours, may 
 
 * Spurtzeim's System of Physiognomy. 
 
166 
 
 REQUISITES FOR PRODUCING 
 
 recollect them, and may have the power of judging of their rela- 
 tions ; but all this is very distinct from that ability which enables a 
 person to adapt them to the objects of painting. " And of those 
 who actually possess this faculty, there is a material distinction to be 
 observed between its great activity and its perfect activity or good 
 taste. For when this faculty is in the former state, it gives a passion 
 for mere colour and gaudy tints, without regard to the arrangement 
 or propriety ; whereas, it is the province of higher faculties to com- 
 bine and arrange colours in a proper manner." * 
 
 " It is a common opinion that the art of painting is the result 
 of sight J and it is certainly true, that the eyes are as necessary to 
 perceive colours, as the ears are to perceive sounds ; but the art of 
 painting does not consist in the perception of colours, any more than 
 music in the perception of sounds. Sight, therefore, and the faculty 
 of painting are not at all in proportion to each other. The talent 
 of painting cannot be measured by the acuteness of sight. Great 
 painters never attribute their talent to their eyes : they say it is not 
 the eye, but the understanding, which perceives the harmony of 
 colours." f 
 
 Thus, it is evident, that the faculty alone of distinguishing 
 colours, so rarely to be met with in its greatest perfection, goes but 
 a very little way, however valuable or requisite, towards forming a 
 painter, unless it be accompanied with other essential qualifications. 
 For without taste and judgment, and memory to aid the artist in the 
 use of his colours, it is to little purpose that the power of distinguish- 
 ing them is possessed. 
 
 Now one person may have a fine taste or imagination for one 
 thing, and another for another. It is quite a mistake, therefore, to 
 suppose, as a late writer has done, " that imagination cannot be 
 perfect unless it embrace every thing ; that a man cannot be a poet, 
 unless he be also a painter, an architect, and so forth ; that it is 
 
 * Illustrations of Phrenology, by Sir S. G. Mackensie, Bart, 
 f Spurtzeim's System of Physiognomy. 
 
A FINE PICTURE. 2g7 
 
 impossible that imagination can be brilliant in one department, and 
 dull in another, in the same person, but we find it is so." 
 
 That the faculties enumerated in former systems of philosophy 
 of mind, in the acceptation in which they are wished to be under- 
 stood, are compound and not single ; that there is not one imagin- 
 ation, one judgment, one memory, &c. but many, seems to be demon- 
 strated by the following considerations. 
 
 No one will deny to an able architect, a fine taste or imagin- 
 ation for building, nor to a clever painter a fine imagination for com- 
 posing a picture. But the architect may not have any taste for com- 
 posing a picture, nor the painter for designing a temple. One per- 
 son may have a wonderful imagination for novel-writing, and another 
 an astonishing facility in improving grounds about country seats. 
 But because the one could not accomplish what was easy to the other, 
 we would not say that either of them had no imagination. One 
 person may have a fine imagination in the composition of historical 
 pictures, and another in the composition of music. The painter 
 may accuse the musician of having no taste, because he cannot enjoy 
 his picture; and the musician may, with equal justice, retort to the 
 painter, that he has no imagination, because he does not understand 
 music. We know that there are persons who are poets *, who 
 cannot paint ; painters who are not poets ; musicians who are not 
 architects. Now, if imagination were one single and undivided 
 faculty of the mind, all the professions here named could never be 
 separated J every man who had the power would necessarily be able 
 to embrace the objects of poetry, architecture, music, painting, and 
 a variety of other things, in a greater or a less degree. But every 
 day's experience of others and of ourselves contradicts such a sup- 
 position. We cannot, therefore, say, according to the former idea. 
 
 * It is well known that Pope tried in vain to succeed in the art of painting: and 
 that he both abused the professors, and contemned the art of music ; as did likewise Swift, 
 Steele, Addison, and Dr. Johnson. 
 
168 
 
 REQUISITES FOR PRODUCING 
 
 that the imagination of a great poet is defective, because he cannot 
 design a building, compose a landscape, or an overture." * 
 
 Thus we see, that unless the artist has that particular power of 
 imagination which is fitted for painting, his faculty for distinguishing 
 colours, if he possess it, or his ability in the use of them, will avail 
 him little in his attempt to arrive at excellence in his art. The 
 more, in fact, we examine into the nature of the qualifications re- 
 quisite to form a painter, the less will our surprise be excited, at 
 finding so very few who ever attain to eminence in the profession ; 
 the greater, rather, must be our astonishment, that the world has ever 
 been able to produce so extraordinary a phenomenon, as that indi- 
 vidual must certainly be, who is gifted with such a rare combination 
 of almost super-human endowments, as those which a fine painter 
 in the higher branches of the art must necessarily possess. 
 
 For let a man have the faculty we have been considering in its 
 highest perfection ; added to which, suppose him to be possessed of 
 a fine imagination fitted for the art ; still, if he fails in execution or 
 the power of embodying his ideas, these advantages will be found 
 to be of very little use, for without this power, he would never be 
 able to convince us that he possessed imagination at all. 
 
 " A painter cannot satisfy us of his taste without a power of 
 execution, which is distinct from the power of imagination ; we 
 determine whether his taste be good or bad by the work of his 
 hands ; and unless his work be well executed, his imagination is of 
 no value to us." 
 
 In addition to the above requisites, it will be seen that there 
 are other faculties essentially necessary for a painter. For he will 
 have imagination to little purpose, if he be without judgment to 
 enable him to arrange what he has imagined, so that it may answer 
 the purposes he has in view in the best manner. " Now judgment 
 must be of different kinds. For one person who judges vastly well 
 of music, cannot judge of architecture; and one who judges well of 
 
 * Subjects connected with Taste, by Sir S. G. Mackensie. 
 
A FINE PICTURE. 
 
 169 
 
 architecture, may not be able to judge well of painting. In music, 
 it sometimes happens, that a person can judge accurately of harmony 
 but not of time ; and when he attempts to play on a musical instru- 
 ment in concert he cannot keep the time. In the same manner, a 
 person may be exceedingly alive to any trespass on time, and yet 
 not be sensible to an encroachment on harmony. Hence it is evi- 
 dent, that judgment varies in kind as well as imagination. If, there- 
 fore, the painter be not gifted with that particular kind of judgment 
 which is applicable to the art which he professes to follow, he can 
 have little chance of success in its pursuit. 
 
 Again ; there is yet another faculty necessary for a painter, and 
 that is memory. " That this faculty varies in its kind, is, perhaps, 
 more apparent than any variety in imagination or judgment. One 
 man may have a very strong memory with respect to places where 
 he has been, and may retain the relative position of every mountain, 
 tree, rock, river, and lake, so as to have constantly at his command 
 a picture of every place he has visited, which he may contemplate, 
 or commit from his memory to the canvass. But the possession of 
 this kind of memory does not imply that of retaining names. With- 
 out a memory for names, a landscape painter may succeed per- 
 fectly ; but he cannot become a linguist, nor a botanist, nor a mine- 
 ralogist, nor pursue with success any other branch of natural history. 
 To become a natural historian, two kinds of memory are necessary, 
 which are not always found together ; viz. a memory for forms and a 
 memory for names. Some persons have an extraordinary verbal 
 memory ; that is, they remember whatever they hear, and can repeat 
 it ; they can get by heart passages of prose and poetry with facility, 
 while others cannot retain a line ; they take pleasure in the study of 
 language, while others consider it dry and tiresome. Some persons 
 have a strong memory for number, and can, without the help of 
 setting down figures on paper, resolve very difficult questions ; while 
 others, with every assistance, can scarcely retain the simplest rules of 
 arithmetic. A musician requires a memory for form, to enable him to 
 know the signs employed in music ; for place, to distinguish the po- 
 
 z 
 
170 A PECULIAR TALENT REQUIRED FOR EVERY ART. 
 
 sition of the notes on paper, and the relative position of his finger 
 on an instrument ; he must also have a memory for time ; and all these 
 independent of the peculiar musical talent commonly called a good 
 musical ear. By a little variation of terms, all this may be applied to 
 the painter. 
 
 " It follows from such facts, that there is an imagination and a 
 memory belonging to each talent ; and, consequently, there must 
 also be a distinct perception and judgment for each. If perception, 
 imagination, memory, and judgment, were each one indivisible faculty, 
 it would be impossible that any man could exhibit unusual perfection 
 in one talent and be defective in every other, instances of which are 
 frequently met with," and of which an example, to a certain extent, has 
 been produced in the gentleman above mentioned, who, though unable 
 to distinguish colours, had a singular aptitude in judging of form. 
 
 " If it be necessary that a man, to be an architect, must have 
 imagination, it is also necessary that a man must have it to be a poet. 
 But how comes it that the same power does not enable the architect 
 to write poetry and the poet to build a temple ? 
 
 " If it be necessary, in order to have any pretensions to music, 
 that a man should be able to judge well, he who pretends to enjoy 
 pictures must also have judgment. But how does it happen that a 
 first-rate painter may be quite indifferent to music ; or that the most 
 celebrated musician should hold painting in contempt ? 
 
 In short," continues this acute enquirer, " if we attend to 
 human nature, and observe mankind, instead of shutting ourselves 
 up and presuming to measure man by ourselves, we cannot refuse to 
 admit that every art requires a peculiar talent, to which a peculiar 
 perception, imagination, memory, and judgment belongs." * 
 
 The observation of Sir Joshua Reynolds was perfectly just, when 
 addressing the students in the academy he said, " If you have great 
 talents industry will improve them." The concluding part of the 
 paragraph, however, does not appear to carry with it the same de- 
 
 * Essay on Subjects connected with Taste, by Sir G. S. Mackensie. 
 
ERRONEOUS OBSERVATION OF REYNOLDS. 
 
 171 
 
 gree of truth ; viz. " If you have but moderate abiUties, industry will 
 supply their deficiency." Nor can the author agree with what the 
 President goes on to say in the same discourse, when he ventures to 
 make the assertion, that " nothing is denied to well-directed labour." 
 " Not to enter," continues he, " into metaphysical discussions on 
 the nature or essence of genius, I will venture to assert, that assidu- 
 ity, unabated by difficulty, and a disposition eagerly directed to the 
 object of its pursuit, will produce effects similar to those which some 
 call the result of natural powers.^'' * Now the writer has little hesi- 
 tation in believing that the unabated assiduity of his worthy friend, 
 who took so much pains to arrive at perfection in painting the effects 
 of sunshine, was as ardent, and his disposition as eagerly directed to 
 the object of his pursuit, as they could be in any individual, and yet 
 this painter never did, to the author's knowledge, produce, and it is 
 much to be doubted whether he ever could have been capable of 
 producing, any performance possessing effects similar to those alluded 
 to by Sir Joshua, let his labour have been directed in a manner ever 
 so eager or unremitted. 
 
 Those who have written on the philosophy of mind, before the 
 doctrines of phrenology were promulgated, have enumerated a 
 certain number of faculties ; and whenever any thing occurs which 
 cannot be explained by their means, it is referred to habit or asso- 
 . elation, or to both, which are not stated as faculties ; but we are left 
 to avail ourselves of them as we can, as auxiliary principles, and to 
 explain their mysterious operations as we please. They are consi- 
 dered of no moment by those who appeal to them ; and it is rather 
 surprising, that what is referred to as necessary to explain every 
 anomaly, should be slurred over as not affecting the system which 
 they are called on to support. 
 
 The human mind has hitherto been studied for the most part 
 as if it were totally unconnected with its corporeal habitation, and 
 
 * Second Discourse delivered to the Students of the Royal Academy, by Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds. 
 
 z 2 
 
172 
 
 PHILOSOPHY OF THE HUMAN MIND. 
 
 independent of it ; and philosophers have, all along, either been 
 blind to the numerous proofs with which daily experience furnishes 
 us, of the close and intimate connection between mind and matter, 
 or have turned from the consideration of a connection for which they 
 found it difficult to account. They have believed and asserted, that 
 education, study, and habit, are capable of rendering every man equal 
 to his neighbour in mental power (as in a certain degree, indeed. Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds's assertion would seem to imply) ; and that diversity 
 of talents and genius is determined solely by the degree of attention 
 which different individuals may have bestowed on different depart- 
 ments of knowledge and study. Although the adage, " Poeta nasci- 
 tur, non Jit^^ shows clearly that men have believed that something 
 else than education, study, or habit, was necessary to give to an indivi- 
 dual the powers of a poet, no attention was given to a fact so notorious, 
 nor was any attempt made to account for this, nor for many other 
 facts in the human constitution, equally apparent and equally re- 
 markable. 
 
 " Man," says a writer already quoted, " is a being of creation ; 
 and, therefore, the study of his nature requires the same method as 
 the examination of every other natural being. Now, every class of 
 living beings presents two parts for investigation ; the bodily struc- 
 ture, which is the object of anatomy, and the functions, which are 
 the objects of physiology."* 
 
 To enter into the subject of the mental faculties, although one 
 of the very highest interest and importance, would be deviating into 
 much too wide a field of enquiry for the present purpose ; sufficient 
 evidence, it is hoped, has been produced to prove, that an " eye for 
 colour," commonly so called, does not depend upon the eye alone, 
 but is a distinct power of the mind, not to be acquired, though very 
 greatly to be improved by practice and observation, but is, on the 
 contrary, an endowment of nature, and, to any degree of perfection, 
 conferred on but a few. The writer equally refrains from offering 
 
 * Spurtzeim's System of Physiognomy, 
 
PHRENOLOGY. 
 
 173 
 
 any remarks respecting the particular indication by which the organ, 
 upon which the manifestation of the faculty depends, is discoverable 
 by the appearance usually presented upon the external surface of 
 the skull, and which, as is well known to anatomists, follows invariably 
 the form of the brain, cases of disease or old age (in as far as relates, 
 perhaps, in the latter, to the frontal sinus alone,) excepted. 
 
 So much, however, is he inclined to this way of thinking, that 
 he does not hesitate to give it as his opinion, that no parent ought 
 to decide upon bringing up his son to the difficult and uncertain pro- 
 fession of a painter, until he has in some degree satisfied himself that 
 such appearances are to be found belonging to the cranium of the 
 youth, as shall make it evident, that he is not at least deficient in the 
 indications of some of those powers so absolutely and indispensably 
 necessary to the successful study of the art, and without which it is 
 quite in vain to look for advancement therein ; by which are intended 
 to be meant, more particularly, those internal organs of the mani- 
 festations of the mind, which come under the class of knowing and 
 reflectino; faculties. 
 
 To those who have yet to learn that there actually is something 
 like reason and common sense in such opinions, expressions like 
 these will only excite a smile, and that, not unlikely, one of contempt. 
 Such, however, let it be observed, is no proof that the author's sen- 
 timents are unfounded or wrong. 
 
 There are many persons who consider the system of phrenology 
 as little better than a piece of quackery, and have, in consequence of 
 such belief, been very liberal in casting ridicule and abuse upon its 
 authors. It is a very easy matter for a person to laugh at what he 
 does not understand ; but on what ground it can be ridiculed, it will 
 be difficult to discover, unless, indeed, on that of our own ignorance 
 of the constitution of man. The fact that the size of the brain has 
 a most powerful influence on the manifestations of the mind, is so 
 obvious, that no one not absolutely without the powers of observation 
 and perception could possibly find it a subject of mirth. A child of 
 a year old does not manifest mental power equal to that displayed 
 
174 
 
 PHRENOLOGY. 
 
 when the head arrives at its mature size. The diminutive brain of 
 an idiot, and that of a well-formed individual of the same age, do 
 not correspond in the intelligence respectively exhibited through 
 their instrumentality : but what is there in this that is absurd ? 
 The influence which the condition of the brain exerts on the mani- 
 festations of mind is too apparent to be a subject of wonder. When 
 the brain is affected by opium, alcohol, serous effusions, blows, or 
 inflammation, the mental faculties are affected constantly in proportion 
 to the disorder excited by these causes. 
 
 The only proposition in phrenology, the truth and notoriety of 
 which is not equally apparent with the above facts, is, that particular 
 parts of the brain have particular functions; — that in the same 
 manner as we see by one pair of nerves, and hear by means of 
 another ; some possess the faculty of distinguishing colours by means 
 of one portion of the brain, and trace effects to their causes by means 
 of another. This proposition may be true or false ; but it is difficult 
 to perceive in what respect it is absurd. 
 
 Whether true or false, let it not be imagined that the doctrine 
 is altogether a new one, since it is well known that the idea of the 
 plurality of the organs is very ancient, and that those who maintain 
 that it is an invention of Dr. Gall are tnistaken. Some philosophers 
 have called them by one name, and some by another. Malebranche 
 speaks of principal and secondary faculties. Charles Bonnet con- 
 siders each fibre of the brain as a particular organ of the soul. 
 Boerhaave said that imagination and judgment must have different 
 seats, because the former is active in dreaming and the latter in 
 watching. Haller supposed that the internal senses occupy different 
 places of the brain ; an immense number, in fact, of physiologists and 
 philosophers, admit the plurality of the organs so there is nothing 
 which can be considered as either new or absurd in this part, at least, 
 of the system. 
 
 As it is undeniable that a small brain, taken in the aggregate, 
 is not equal to a large one in giving mental efficiency, and that a 
 disordered brain is not so favourable to the manifestations of mind 
 
W. Wic e Sculp. 
 
/ 
 
J 
 
Eiiellerpinzf 
 
 B!ai;y Mlard sculp': 
 
PHRENOLOGY. 275 
 
 as a sound one ; it is difficult to see the objection to the proposition, 
 that a small organ is not equal in efficacy to a large one, or that 
 torpid organs, by means of which the intellectual faculties are mani- 
 fested, are not so powerful as those in a state of healthy activity. 
 
 It is a singular fact, that while the learned resisted the im- 
 portant conclusion, that the brain is that part of the body on which 
 the mind directly acts, but which is now, however, generally ad- 
 mitted by all anatomists and physiologists, the vulgar notions respect- 
 ing the brain have always been in strict conformity with the truth. 
 The most unlearned are in the constant habit, when speaking of a 
 person who is stupid, of using some such phrase as, " He has no 
 more brains than a goose," — " Where are your brains, you num- 
 skull ?" — and it is no uncommon thing to hear such an expression 
 as " That's a rare long-headed fellow, sure enough ;" or, " What 
 can you expect from a poor devil with a head as round as a 
 turnip?" &c. 
 
 It is surely, therefore, absurd to admit the influence of size and 
 condition in the case of the whole brain, and to find the idea of such 
 influence affecting parts of it, ridiculous. 
 
 " I believe," observes a late writer, " that a development of the 
 crown of the head is a certain indication of moral feelings ; that a 
 development of the forehead indicates a reflecting mind, whilst a 
 development of the lower part manifests a disposition to acquire 
 knowledge ; and that a development of the whole forehead (as every 
 one must have observed) indicates a strength of the intellectual 
 faculties in general." * 
 
 Let any one examine the busts of antique statues, of Jupiter, 
 for instance, or Apollo ; of Homer, of Plato, of Socrates, of sages or 
 heroes, and he will immediately be convinced that such was the way 
 of thinking among the ancients many centuries ago, although the 
 science of phrenology never once entered their heads. Let him also 
 look at those of Michael Angelo and Locke, of Bonaparte and 
 
 * Forster's Sketch. 
 
176 
 
 PHRENOLOGY. 
 
 Byron, among the moderns, and the thing becomes self-evident at 
 once. 
 
 So far, therefore, from considering the subject with levity or 
 ridicule, every one who will give himself the trouble to reflect seri- 
 ously about it, must agree that the knowledge of man is of the 
 deepest interest. Now the brain and the nerves cannot but be con- 
 sidered as the most important of the organs of man, inasmuch as the 
 manifestations of all the faculties are more or less subordinate to the 
 influence of the nervous system ; besides which, it appears upon 
 investigation, that not only the functions of the five senses, but all 
 the instincts, propensities, sentiments, and intellectual faculties, all 
 the affections and passions, all the characteristics of humanity, are 
 manifested only by means of the nervous system. 
 
 And yet no one can deny that the greatest ignorance exists 
 concerning this very important part of the human frame. How can 
 then such enquiries be deemed useless and absurd? Or why, in the 
 name of every thing that is rational or interesting, are not the 
 faculties of the mind, and the organs upon which their manifestations 
 depend, worthy of investigation, as well as the other parts of the 
 creation ? We examine all the beings around us ; we divide and sub- 
 divide the different objects which nature presents to us ; we study 
 mineralogy, botany, zoology ; why should we not study man, who 
 manifests the greatest number of faculties, and who is lord of the 
 terrestrial creation ? Than this, indeed, it seems impossible to point 
 out an object more interesting to natural philosophers, anatomists, 
 physiologists, artists, teachers, moralists, and legislators. In short, 
 the subject requires only to be regarded with a philosophic eye, to 
 make it appear that nothing else than ignorance has directed the 
 shafts of ridicule against the system, and not the nature and proofs 
 of the propositions of phrenology. 
 
 The writer has been induced to dwell more at large in defence 
 of this doctrine, from the circumstance of having himself been, until 
 lately, an infidel respecting its truth. This arose from his being, like 
 so many others, totally unacquainted with its nature, and the im- 
 
PHRENOLOGY. 
 
 177 
 
 portant inferences deducible from the study of it. He was not, 
 indeed, only altogether ignorant of the principles upon which it is 
 founded, but did actually, he does not scruple to confess, join with 
 the multitude in ridiculing a system that, upon a superficial view 
 only, or, perhaps, without any view of it at all, appeared to be nothing 
 better than a wild and extravagant theory, fitted to excite little else 
 than sentiments productive of merriment, and the jokes of the 
 caricaturist. 
 
 It so happened that the author was at Vienna at the time that 
 Dr. Gall gave his first course of lectures upon phrenology, five and 
 twenty years ago ; being, however, then nearly unacquainted with 
 the German language, and having his thoughts directed to other 
 pursuits, little attention was paid to the subject. Subsequently to 
 that period, upon a more serious consideration of its theory and prin- 
 ciples, together with the circumstance of his having been so fortunate 
 as to witness the singularly ingenious and scientific dissection of the 
 brain by Dr. Gall himself, in London, not many months ago, the 
 question has appeared to him in a very different point of view, and 
 his sentiments respecting it have undergone a most material and 
 decided chano;e. 
 
 It is, perhaps, scarcely possible to conceive any thing more 
 curious than the wonderful phenomena exhibited in the progress of 
 the astonishing operation alluded to ; whereby, in the gradual de- 
 velopment of the convolutions and interior parts of the brain, it 
 became manifest, that the mass of which it is composed, instead of 
 being a mere pulpy substance, as is generally imagined by those 
 unacquainted with anatomy, is capable of being unfolded and ex- 
 tended, in a manner almost similar to a piece of cloth that has been 
 previously puckered up and put into folds. The operator made it 
 evidently appear to all present, that this folded cerebral substance 
 contains a great number of divisions, forming so many compart- 
 ments, and which, in his opinion, ought to be considered as the 
 interior of the intellectual organs, the divisions indicating their re- 
 spective boundaries. " Be this as it may," observes a writer no 
 
 A A 
 
2 PHRENOLOGY. 
 
 way friendly to the system; " those compartments and divisions,do 
 exist, and the brain may be unfolded in the manner described." * 
 
 Such investigations, it must be confessed, are of a highly in- 
 teresting nature, and well calculated, like every part of our " fearfully 
 and wonderfully" constructed machine, to inspire the most exalted 
 sentiments of admiration towards the divine Artificer of so astonish- 
 ing and complicated a frame. 
 
 In speaking of this new system of philosophy of the human 
 mind, it has been observed, that, " as far as we have been able to 
 learn, not a single individual has studied the system in all its details, 
 without becoming a convert to its doctrines ; and it has been in- 
 variably observed, that all those who have attacked tlie system, have 
 been ignorant of the principles on which it is founded." f 
 
 As phrenology has been supposed to favour materialism, and 
 as its doctrines have in consequence been denounced as dangerous, 
 the author ventures to say a few words upon the subject, considered 
 in that point of view. 
 
 A writer in a periodical work published in Edinburgh, and who 
 does not profess to be a convert to the system, thus speaks of it, viz. 
 
 " It is a distinguishing feature of the new system, that it gene- 
 rates and cherishes a spirit of charity in all our judgments upon 
 others. It places in the most striking light the defects of our nature, 
 and the temptations to which we are exposed from our own evil pro- 
 pensities. And yet, as it teaches at the same time, that our higher 
 faculties have, when duly cultivated, a governing and increasing power 
 over the lower propensities and sentiments, it does not do away with 
 personal responsibility. The best under this system will not be 
 able to preserve themselves free of blame, nor will the worst escape 
 the penalties attached to their crimes. Had its tendency been to 
 give impunity to vice, or had it lent, when properly understood, any 
 countenance to the doctrine of materiality, we should never have 
 brought it under the notice of our readers." 
 
 * Tupper's Inquiry into Dr. Gall's System, 1819. 
 f Sir G. S. Mackensie's Illustrations. 
 
PHRENOLOGY. i^g 
 
 Phrenologists consider materialism not as dangerous, but as 
 unphilosophical and unimportant ; for if their doctrine be unfounded, 
 it cannot, when viewed as the assertion of certain physical facts, 
 logically lead to any result, except the disgrace and mortification of 
 its supporters. " On such a supposition it cannot overturn religion 
 or any other truth, because, by the constitution of the human in- 
 tellect, error constantly tends to resolve itself into nothing, and to 
 sink into oblivion ; while truth, having a real existence, remains per- 
 manent and impregnable. In this view, then, the objection that 
 phrenology leads to materialism is absurd. If, on the other hand, 
 the science is held to be a true interpretation of nature, and it is 
 urged that, nevertheless, it leads fairly and logically to materialism, 
 then the folly of the objection is equally glaring ; for it resolves 
 itself into this, that materialism is the constitution of nature, and 
 that phrenology is dangerous, because it makes this constitution 
 known." * 
 
 Phrenology, in fact, shows that the question is really of no con- 
 sequence whatever. " According to the view which it gives of the 
 human mind, the faculties are innate, and have a specific constitu- 
 tution. Now the faculties perform their functions according to that 
 constitution ; that is, moral faculties give sentiments of benevo- 
 lence, veneration, justice ; and reflecting faculties give understand- 
 ing, precisely in the same manner, whether we believe the mind in 
 which these faculties exist to be material or spiritual. The basis of 
 morality is the innate power of distinguishing right from wrong, truth 
 from error : this power is impressed upon the mind by the Creator, 
 and is entirely independent of any speculative opinion concerning 
 the nature or constitution of either mind or body. A materialist, 
 when he denies a future state of existence, may be refuted by a de- 
 monstration that his premises do not warrant his conclusion, because 
 we know nothing whatever of the essence of body or of mind, and 
 of course are not entitled to infer, even from his own premises, that 
 
 * Phrenological Journal, No. 1 . 
 A A 2 
 
180 
 
 PHRENOLOGY. 
 
 consciousness cannot be re-established by a reunion of the same ob- 
 jects that are separated by death. Besides, even allowing the doc- 
 trines of materialism to be true, phrenology, by proving that man 
 possesses moral faculties of which the lower animals are destitute, 
 and proving that these faculties have corresponding organs, preserves 
 man from being degraded to the level of the brutes, and shows that 
 morality has a foundation independent of a belief of a future state 
 of reward and punishment, although, no doubt, its exercise is greatly 
 strengthened and promoted by that most natural and philosophical 
 belief. Of course, the materialist, even on his own principles, is 
 not entitled to assail the authority of our moral sentiments ; and 
 thus the danger apprehended from such opinions is altogether 
 imaginary." * 
 
 That the science leads, in fact, either to materialism, fatalism, 
 immorality, or irreligion, is a belief perfectly unjust and erroneous. 
 It will, on the contrary, be evident to those who candidly examine 
 its doctrines, " that phrenology is entirely consistent with, and most 
 favourable to the doctrine of the immortality of the soul ; it leaves 
 the question of its essence just where it was, beyond human view ; — 
 that it is perfectly consistent with the freedom of human actions ; — 
 that it tends to a very highly improved moral economy, — and that 
 it is beautifully in harmony with the precepts of our holy faith." f 
 
 The writer will conclude this subject by transcribing a paragraph 
 which appeared, only a short time ago, in the newspapers of the day ; 
 it runs thus, viz. 
 
 " A few years ago, when on a visit to our friend Mr. Owen, at 
 New Lanark, we had the pleasure to meet Mr. Combe, brought thi- 
 ther, like ourselves, not by the Falls of Clyde, its ancient attraction, 
 but by the new world of men which Mr. Owen, good-naturedly and 
 absurdly enough, is now busy in constructing among its cotton-spin- 
 ners. At the request of various individuals of the party, and in 
 particular of our hospitable entertainer, Mr. Combe agreed to make 
 
 * Sir G. S. Mackensie. 
 
 f Phrenological Journal, No. 1 . 
 
PHRENOLOGY. 
 
 181 
 
 a survey of the heads of the children attending the institution. These 
 might amount at the time to one or two hundred ; and of the cha- 
 racter of a great majority of them Mr. Combe did, in our presence, 
 give a little general estimate, which the head master, who attended 
 us, declared to be almost invariably correct. 
 
 " This experiment, which was of the greater value, inasmuch as 
 at New Lanark the master does not merely teach the children to 
 read, but professes to study and train their natural dispositions, sur- 
 prised us very much. It seemed ridiculous and unphilosophical 
 to ascribe the uniformity of the result to mere casual coincidence ; 
 and we thenceforth became prepared, scoffers as we previously had 
 been at phrenology, to look into it with candour, if not with some 
 little prepossession in its favour. 
 
 " Our whole subsequent study and observation have only tended 
 to confirm us in the belief of it ; and we have little doubt that, where 
 it is disputed, the error proceeds more from ignorance of its true 
 nature and pretensions than from any fairly considered judgment on 
 its evidence. The world conceives of phrenology as an empyrical 
 pretence to discover human character from the shape of the skull, 
 as if this congeries of bones contained the soul ; and running away 
 with this idea, its ignorant and unprincipled enemies (the last being 
 those who, for a laugh, will sacrifice friends, principle, truth, religion, 
 and honour,) lavish every reproach and ridicule upon it which their 
 wit can supply." 
 
 When the foregoing circumstances are duly considered, and 
 when we reflect how many and various are the qualifications essential 
 to form a painter, in addition to the different mental faculties 
 enumerated above, each and every one of which must be of that dis- 
 tinct and peculiar kind which painting requires ; and that all of them 
 must be united in the same individual ; if, added to such consider- 
 ations, we reflect on the almost numberless other requisites (many of 
 them demanding great labour, attended with great expense, and 
 difficult to be obtained) necessary for producing excellence, especially 
 in the higher branch of the art, the writer will not be thought to have 
 
182 
 
 QUALIFICATIONS NECESSARY TO FORM 
 
 over-rated the value of such works, as those of a Raphael, a Rubens, 
 a Reynolds, or even a Wilson, and of so many other great masters, 
 whose sublime productions must for ever excite, so long as they 
 remain, the delight and admiration of the world. 
 
 As the qualifications alluded to may not be so obvious to those 
 persons who have not given their attention to the subject, it may not 
 be amiss to point out some of the most material among them, in 
 order that the author may not be thought so extravagantly enthusias- 
 tic in his praise and estimation of fine pictures, as he might, perhaps, 
 be otherwise considered. 
 
 " To paint a history," observes a writer on the subject, " a man 
 ought to have the main qualities of a good historian, and something 
 more ; he must yet go higher, and have the talents requisite to a 
 good poet ; the rules for the conduct of a picture being much the 
 same with those to be observed in writing a poem, and painting, as 
 well as poetry, requiring an elevation of genius beyond what pure 
 historical narrative does ; the painter must imagine his figures to 
 think, speak, and act, as a poet should do in a tragedy or epic poem ; 
 especially, if his subject be a fable or an allegory. If a poet has, 
 moreover, the care of the diction and versification, the painter has a 
 task, perhaps, at least equivalent to that, after he has well conceived the 
 thing, over and above what is merely mechanical, and other particulars ; 
 and that is the knowledge of the nature and efi^ects of colours, lights, 
 shadows, reflections, &c. And as his business is not to compose one 
 Iliad, or one iEneid only, but perhaps many, he must be furnished 
 with a vast stock of poetical as well as historical learning. 
 
 " Besides this, it is absolutely necessary to a history painter that 
 he understand anatomy, osteology, geometry, perspective, architect- 
 ure, and many other sciences, which the historian or poet has little 
 occasion to know. 
 
 " He must, moreover, not only see, but thoroughly study the 
 works of the most excellent masters in painting, in sculpture, ancient 
 and modern ; for though some few have gone vast lengths in the art 
 by the strength of their own genius, without foreign assistance, these 
 
A HISTORICAL PAINTER. 
 
 183 
 
 are prodigies ; the like success is not ordinarily to be expected ; nor 
 have even these done what probably they would have done, with the 
 advantages the study of other mens' works would have given them. 
 
 " A painter must not only be a poet, a historian, a mathemati- 
 cian, &c., he must be a mechanic; his hand and eye must be as 
 expert as his head is clear and lively, and well stored with science. 
 He must not only write a history, a poem, a description, but, in a fine 
 character, his brain, his eye, his hand, must be busied at the same 
 time. He must not only have a nice judgment to distinguish 
 between things resembling one another, but not the same, (which he 
 must have in common with the noblest professions,) but, he must, 
 moreover, have the same delicacy of eyes to judge of the tints of 
 colours, which are of infinite variety, and to distinguish whether a line 
 be straight or curved a little ; whether this is exactly parallel to that, 
 or oblique, and in what degree ; how this curved line differs from that, 
 if it differs at all, of which he must also judge ; whether what he has 
 drawn is of the same magnitude with what he pretends to imitate, and 
 the like ; and must have a hand exact enough to form these in his 
 work, answerable to the ideas he has taken of them. 
 
 " An author must think, but it is no matter how he writes ; he has 
 no care about that ; it is sufficient if what he writes be legible : a curious 
 mechanic's hand must be exquisite, but his thoughts are commonly 
 pretty much at liberty ; but a painter is engaged in both respects. When 
 a matter is well thought and digested in the mind, a work common 
 to painters and writers, the former has still behind a vastly greater 
 task than the other, and which to perform well would alone be a suf- 
 ficient recommendation to any man who should employ a whole life 
 in attaining it. 
 
 " To be an accomplished painter, a man must possess more than 
 one liberal art, which puts him upon a level with those who do that, 
 and make him superior to those who possess but one in an equal 
 degree ; he must be, also, a curious artificer, whereby he becomes 
 superior to one who equally possesses the other talents, but wants 
 
184 
 
 QUALIFICATIONS NECESSARY TO FORM 
 
 that. A Raffaelle, therefore, is not only equal, but superior to a 
 Virgil or a Livy, a Thucydides or a Homer. 
 
 " What I now advance," continues this enthusiastic writer, 
 " may appear chimerical ; in that case I only desire it may be con- 
 sidered whether it is not a necessary consequence of what went be- 
 fore, and was and must be granted." * 
 
 " Let it be always understood," observes another justly esteemed 
 writer and artist, " that the end of painting, in its highest style, is 
 twofold J first, the giving effect, illusion, or the true appearance of 
 objects to the eye ; and, secondly, the combination of this with the 
 ideal, or the conception of them in their utmost perfection, and 
 under such an arrangement as is calculated to make the greatest 
 possible impression on the spectator. 
 
 " With such purposes in view, consisting of such a multitude 
 of parts, and requiring such an uncommon assemblage of powers, 
 mechanical and mental, of hand, of eye, of knowledge, of judg- 
 ment, of imagination, and of indefatigable perseverance in study 
 and practice, to enable a man to perform any one part with tolerable 
 success, it can be no wonder that the art has not as yet, in modern 
 times at least, reached the desired perfection ; nor ought we to be 
 surprised to find even the most celebrated masters materially defec- 
 tive in some one or more of its branches, those who possessed in- 
 vention having been frequently deficient in execution ; those who 
 studied colouring often neglected drawing ; and those who attended 
 to form and character having been too apt to disregard composition 
 and the proper management of light and shadow. The whole toge- 
 ther, indeed, seems almost too great for the grasp of human powers, 
 unless excited, expanded, and invigorated by such enthusiastic and 
 continued encouragement as that which exclusively marks the bright 
 sera of Grecian taste. 
 
 " Impressed as I am at the present moment with a full convic- 
 tion of the difficulties attendant on the practice of painting, I cannot 
 
 • Richardson's Theory. 
 
A HISTORICAL PAINTER. 
 
 185 
 
 but feel it also my duty to caution every one who hears me against 
 entering into it from improper motives, and with inadequate views 
 of the subject, as they will, thereby, only run a risk of entailing 
 misery and disgrace on themselves and their connections during the 
 rest of their lives. Should any student, therefore, happen to be 
 present who has taken up the art on the supposition of finding it an 
 easy and amusing employment, — any one who has been sent into 
 the academy by his friends, on the idea that he may cheaply acquire 
 an honourable and profitable profession, — any one who has mistaken 
 a petty kind of imitative monkey talent for genius, — any one who 
 hopes by it to get rid of what he thinks a more vulgar or disagreeable 
 situation, to escape confinement at the counter or the desk, — any 
 one urged merely by vanity or interest, — or, in short, impelled 
 by any consideration but a real and unconquerable passion for excel- 
 lence, — let him drop it at once, and avoid these walls, and every 
 thing connected with them, as he would the pestilence; for if he 
 have not this unconquerable liking, in addition to all the requisites 
 above enumerated, he may pine in indigence, or skulk through life 
 as a hackney likeness-taker, a copier, a drawing-master, or pattern- 
 drawer to young ladies ; or he may turn picture-cleaner, and help 
 time to destroy excellencies which he cannot rival, — but he must 
 never hope to be, in the proper sense of the word, a painter. 
 
 " Strait is the gate and narrow is the way that leads to excellence, 
 and few there be that find it. True as this undoubtedly is in all 
 cases, in no instance will it be found so applicable as the present ; 
 for in no profession will the student have so many difficulties to en- 
 counter ; — in no profession so many sacrifices to make ; — in no 
 profession will he have to labour so hard and study so intensely ; — 
 and in no profession is the reward of his talents so precarious and 
 uncertain, as is lamentably proved by every day's experience, and 
 by every page of history. 
 
 " Let me not be told," continues Mr. Opie, " that by such asser- 
 tions I am raising obstacles and throwing obstructions in the paths of 
 men of genius, for to such obstacles act as a stimulus ; what quenches 
 
 B B 
 
186 
 
 QUALIFICATIONS NECESSARY TO FORM 
 
 others gives them fire; and I am confident a knowledge of the truth 
 will, in the end, equally benefit the art and the artist. Should any one 
 be discouraged by it, I will say to him, ' I have rendered you an es- 
 sential service ; you will soon find some other situation better suited 
 to your talents.' But to those who can, undismayed, look all the 
 difficulties in the face ; who have made up their minds to conquer; 
 who are ready to sacrifice their time, their ease, their pleasure, their 
 profit, and devote themselves, soul and body, to the art, — in short, 
 who cannot be restrained from the pursuit of it, to those I will say, 
 ' You alone are worthy ^ you alone are likely to succeed : you give the 
 strongest hopes that can be obtained of possessing all the necessary 
 requisites, and there is every probability that you will do honour to 
 your art, your country, and yourselves ; for nothing is denied to per- 
 severing and well-directed industry.' " * 
 
 " Every art," observes Mr. Shee, " is made up of certain parts, 
 which may be called its instruments — the means by which its effects 
 are produced : in proportion to the skill with which he uses these in- 
 struments, we value the dexterity of the workman ; and according 
 to the subject upon which he employs them we estimate his genius. 
 The instruments of painting are design, composition, chiaro-'scuro, 
 colouring, and execution ; and these instruments, it may be said, are 
 of such arduous management, that to acquire equal skill in the use 
 of them all is beyond the reach of human ingenuity, and to attempt 
 it but an injudicious diversion of those powers which, in a more 
 restricted exertion, might attain to pre-eminent dexterity ; that de- 
 
 * Opie's Lectures on Painting. 
 
 Just on the eve of his work going lo the press, the author observed, in a weekly 
 paper, recently printed, the following observations, viz. 
 
 " Whether it be a subject of gratulation, or whether it should be deplored, that 
 the profession of the fine arts is thus annually adding so many members to its lists, we 
 pretend not to determine. For the present, we see enough to justify the old observation, 
 ' that many an aspiring wight mistakes the love of a particular art for a genius for that art, 
 an error upon which numberless egotists have been shipwrecked, ruined, and lost.' We 
 fear that the candidates for public favour increase in too rapid a ratio for the growth of 
 patronage." — Somerset House Gazette, April 2^. 1824'. 
 
A HISTORICAL PAINTER. 
 
 187 
 
 sign, composition, chiaro-'scuro, and colouring, though but parts of 
 painting, are studies, each of which, is in itself, sufficient to occupy, 
 through life, the whole force of the human faculties, and that con- 
 spicuous excellence in one of those qualities has always been con- 
 sidered an undeniable proof of genius, and a certain passport to 
 fame."* 
 
 Such are the opinions of those who have not only tried, but in 
 a very eminent degree overcome the difficulties attending the art. 
 As it appeared next to impossible for any one, unacquainted with 
 the obstacles to be surmounted, and the powers necessarily required 
 in their accomplishment, to have an adequate idea of the value of 
 fine pictures, or to be at all sensible of the degree in which we stand 
 indebted to those distinguished artists who have produced them, the 
 author has thought it but doing justice to his subject, to set before 
 the reader, in as perspicuous a manner as he was able, the nature 
 and extent of those difficulties, and, in addition, to point out the 
 several endowments and qualifications by which only they can be 
 successfully opposed and finally overcome. 
 
 As a conclusion to these remarks upon colouring, and the 
 enumeration of the various obstacles which'the artist has to encounter 
 in order to arrive at excellence in his pursuit, the writer will men- 
 tion an adventure which happened to the cranium of an unfortunate 
 German painter, while engaged in the practice of his art, in the 
 Imperial Gallery of the Belvidere, at Vienna, by which it will be 
 seen, in addition to those already enumerated, how many and various 
 are the impediments and perplexities to which the profession is 
 liable. 
 
 One day, when the emperor with his attendants was walking 
 round the gallery, he stopped, as he was sometimes accustomed to do, 
 near the easel of an artist who was employed in copying one of the 
 finest pictures in the collection. As this person was proceeding 
 in his work, apparently with considerable success, his Majesty was 
 
 * Shee's Elements of Art. 
 B B 2 
 
188 
 
 ANECDOTE OF A GERMAN PAINTER. 
 
 pleased to express his approbation of his performance to the painter 
 himself. The artist, who was a very modest man, and considerably 
 advanced in years, was so exceedingly overcome by the very flatter- 
 ing notice so graciously bestowed, that in the act of stooping, in 
 conformity with the excessive humiHty of his mind, and his anxious 
 desire of acknowledging in a suitable manner his very grateful sense 
 of so distinguished an honour, his wig unfortunately fell from his 
 head, directly upon the palette which he held in his hand. The 
 confusion and embarrassment of the poor painter may be easily con- 
 ceived ; with the greatest alacrity he took up his wig, and in a hur- 
 ried manner replacing it on his pate, sought to apologise for so in- 
 decorous a mishap. The ill-fated man, having the use only of one 
 of his hands, his palette and brushes being held in the other, was 
 unable to adjust, with precision, the covering of his head, which being 
 put on quite awry, and covered, of course, all over with mingled 
 blotches of blue, red, yellow, &c. presented a most ludicrous appear- 
 ance for the emperor and his suite. 
 
PART III. 
 
 CHAPTER 1. 
 
 NECESSITY OF CAUTION IN SKETCHING IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY. — ADVENTURE WHICH 
 BEFEL THE AUTHOR WHILE SO ENGAGED. SCENERY OF ITALY PECULIARLY INTER- 
 ESTING FROM THE ASSOCIATIONS CONNECTED WITH IT. ROME THE BEST PLACE OF 
 
 STUDY FOR AN ARTIST. ART THE CHIEF OBJECT OF INTEREST WITH ALL CLASSES IN 
 
 THAT CITY. ENTHUSIASM EXCITED BY THE GRANDEUR OF ITS ANTIQUITIES AND WORKS 
 
 OF ART. FRENCH PAINTERS. GALLERY OF THE LOUVRE. DIFFERENT METHOD OF 
 
 STUDY, OBSERVABLE IN 1 HE ENGLISH AND FRENCH STUDENTS. NATIONAL GALLERY. 
 
 The author not being without hope that, in the perusal of these re- 
 marks, and the praises bestowed upon landscape painting, and the 
 study of nature with a view to the picturesque, some of his readers 
 may be induced, perhaps, to take up so agreeable and interesting a 
 pursuit ; and being desirous, at the same time, of rendering his sub- 
 ject as little tedious as possible, it will not, he trusts, bear the ap- 
 pearance of egotism if he ventures to introduce the relation of an 
 occurrence which happened to him some years ago while sketching ; 
 which, as it may be useful in pointing out the necessity of caution in 
 the taking of views, more particularly in a foreign country, he hopes 
 will not be altogether unacceptable. 
 
 Wandering out, one fine afternoon, in the neighbourhood of 
 Trieste, in search of the picturesque, I was induced, such was the 
 increasing interest excited by the prospect, to extend my walk much 
 beyond the usual limit. Having my thoughts entirely occupied with 
 
190 
 
 SINGULAR ADVENTURE. 
 
 the surrounding scenery, little attention was paid to the reflection 
 which occurred at the time, that I was committing an imprudence in 
 venturing, unaccompanied, along an unfrequented path, so far from 
 the town. So great, indeed, was my eagerness to obtain a com- 
 manding situation for taking a sketch, that I was quite unaware, not- 
 withstanding the loneliness of the way, to what a distance I had 
 gone, before gaining the point so much desired. 
 
 Here, at once, burst forth the most beautiful landscape it is pos- 
 sible to conceive ; away went all thoughts of apprehension, and the 
 stupendous attractions alone of this magnificent view arrested every 
 power of my mind. It is at such moments that it may be said, " vox 
 faucibus hceret /" — the power of speech is suspended, and the whole 
 heart and soul become thrilled with sensations of delight. I was, in 
 fact, as it were, chained to the spot, and forthwith sat down, deter- 
 mined to carry away as much of this earthly paradise as I possibly 
 could. 
 
 For a considerable time my work went on in the most successful 
 manner, and the town, the port, and other accompaniments were 
 nearly complete, not a single passenger all the while, either on 
 horseback or on foot, having gone by, when, suddenly my eye was 
 caught by the figure of a man sliding down from the wall, against 
 which I was seated, at a little distance on the left ; presently after 
 another showed himself in a similar way on the contrary side; then 
 another, and another still. In this manner six or seven stout-looking 
 men were successively upon their legs, each armed with a stake, and 
 bearing a stiletto by his side. More ruffian-like looking fellows it is 
 not easy to conceive, affording to the life a true specimen of that 
 Salvator-like being whom our poet describes, and in the very 
 identical land, 
 
 " Where the rude Carinthian boor 
 Against the houseless stranger shuts his door." Goldsmith. 
 
 As it was sufficiently clear, by the looks and the cautious pro- 
 ceedings of these people, that I was the object about whom they 
 
SINGULAR ADVENTURE. jgj 
 
 were concerned, I began, in a bold and free manner, to draw the 
 liuge branches and foliage of a large tree, stretching quite over the 
 greater part of my design ; for it at once struck me, how strangely 
 imprudent I had been in selecting for my subject the fortress and 
 other warlike defences of the place, the delineation of all which being 
 nearly complete, could not, it was certain, but afford evident ground 
 for suspicion, should these men look upon me, as it then occurred to 
 me they might, in the light of a spy. 
 
 To surround and to seize upon an individual armed with no 
 other weapon than a black-lead pencil, could be no very hazardous 
 enterprise ; notwithstanding which the greatest caution was ob- 
 served, under the supposition, as it might seem, that concealed fire- 
 arms were in my possession. To do this was the effect only of an 
 instant, one aiming a blow at my skull, while two others seized hold 
 of my arms, the rest standing in a threatening posture in front. By 
 suddenly dipping my head, I was able, luckily, to escape any very 
 material injury from the first, thanks to my stout English hat ; a 
 little more, indeed, and there must have been at once an end both 
 .to my sketching and my life. 
 
 To my remonstrance that they were mistaken in supposing me 
 to be either a Frenchman or a spy, and that on the contrary I was a 
 Signor Inglese taking views solely for my amusement, no other answer 
 was given than a savage sort of laugh, although it was evident that 
 my meaning was not misunderstood. 
 
 After ransacking my pockets, and carefully examining my 
 clothes, I was compelled to accompany these ruffians in the direction 
 of the town, being escorted like a malefactor, in the centre of four 
 of them ; one of whom marched immediately in front, another close 
 behind, and one on each side of me, the rest keeping a look out, as 
 if they apprehended some rescue at hand. Our march had been 
 continued in the manner described for somewhat more than a mile, 
 when we were met by another party of similarly looking men. Here 
 a parley ensued, in which high words very shortly took place, which 
 were presently followed by scuffling and blows, it being plainly the 
 
192 
 
 SINGULAR ADVENTURE. 
 
 intention of these people to get possession of the prisoner in a 
 forcible manner. This attempt, however, was successfully resisted, 
 and the assailing party finding themselves not sufficiently strong, 
 judged it more prudent to relinquish the object of contention. 
 
 Though I found the language (a sort oi jyatois, between German 
 and Italian) of these mountaineers quite unintelligible, it was ma- 
 nifest, from their threats and imprecations, that no good was in- 
 tended towards me ; I was, therefore, extremely rejoiced at finding 
 myself once more under the comparatively quiet, though secure cus- 
 tody of my first acquaintance, who could not but be looked upon 
 now as in some degree my protectors and friends; so true it is, that 
 the dread of an impending evil, however formidable, ceases to excite 
 our alarm the moment we are threatened by another more perilous. 
 
 Here then again was I attended and guarded as before, pro- 
 ceeding at a round pace, in the direction of Trieste. In somewhat 
 above an hour and a half, if I may guess from the time that I was 
 first seized, we approached the suburb of the town ; no sooner was 
 our appearance observed, than people began to collect from all sides, 
 and these increasing continually with our progress through the 
 streets, a considerable body was very soon formed, which by the 
 time that we entered the market-place had grown to an absolute 
 crowd. 
 
 Surrounded in this tumultuous manner, it was not long before 
 we arrived at the Hotel de Ville, or Town Hall. For some time no 
 credit was given to any explanation I could make ; for the circum- 
 stance of being unable to produce my passport, or what amounted 
 to the same thing, the protection of police, or, as it is called, " La 
 Carte de Surete," without which no one, in a country where war is 
 carrying on, should at any time venture to stir out, coupled with 
 the singularly suspicious appearance which my drawing produced, 
 led every one to be decidedly of opinion that I was in reality no 
 other than a spy. 
 
 Upon the arrival, however, of the English Consul, who had 
 been sent for at my request, a different aspect was given to the 
 
• 
 
SINGULAR ADVENTURE. 
 
 193 
 
 affair, it being immediately ascertained that the whole business had 
 originated in mistake, and the officers of police did not hesitate to 
 express themselves as extremely sorry for what had happened, as- 
 suring me, however, at the same time, that I had reason to con- 
 sider myself as singularly fortunate that nothing more serious had 
 occurred. 
 
 I learnt afterwards from Mr. Anderson, our consul, that my 
 escape had certainly been a narrow one, and which, he said, might 
 fairly be looked upon as next to miraculous ; for knowing so well 
 the peasantry in the vicinity, it seemed quite surprising to him that 
 I had not been murdered on the spot ; and that, moreover, had the 
 party we met succeeded in getting me into their hands, such must 
 inevitably have been my fate. This gentleman informed me that he 
 was acquainted with a vast number of instances in which the soldiers 
 of the French army, which had been in the neighbourhood only a 
 short time before, had been privately despatched ; and that he had 
 himself seen the graves of many such victims, there being scarcely 
 a countryman who could not point to some place or other in his 
 garden or vineyard, and say, " Here lies one Frenchman, — here are 
 buried two," and sometimes even a greater number. It was re- 
 ported, indeed, that Bonaparte did not scruple to declare, that he 
 lost more men by assassination, during the time that his army was 
 quartered at Trieste, than in any other way. 
 
 Thus ended my adventure, the particulars relating to which 
 made a good deal of noise at the time. The above was not the 
 only occurrence in which my enthusiasm in pursuit of the art was 
 attended with considerable risk ; having been somewhat roughly 
 handled by a long-whiskered sentinel near the walls of Verona, at 
 the time that Mantua was besieged, the bombardment of which was 
 distinctly to be heard at the time. Of this rencounter, however, I 
 shall refrain from saying any thing further, having already, it is to 
 be feared, exhausted the patience of my reader. I will just observe, 
 that in the Tyrol, where the peasantry are for the most part armed 
 with a rifle, the greatest caution is required. In the neighbourhood 
 
 c c 
 
194 
 
 ROME THE BEST PLACE OF STUDY 
 
 of Rome, on the contrary, where these matters are more understood, 
 no such apprehensions need be entertained, and an artist may ex- 
 ercise his pursuit, either in the most populous or the least frequented 
 districts thereabouts, without the smallest notice being taken of 
 him ; such, at least, was the case at the period to which the author 
 alludes. 
 
 Though the pleasure which sketching affords must, in any coun- 
 try, prove of a very superior kind, it is in Italy, and especially in 
 the vicinity of the last-mentioned capital, that it can be enjoyed in 
 its highest degree. This arises not so much from the superior 
 beauty or grandeur of the actual scenery, which, however, it must 
 be confessed, can no where be surpassed, as from the singularly in- 
 teresting associations connected with it. It has been well observed, 
 indeed, that " the finest countries in the world when they retrace 
 no recollection, when the}'^ do not carry the stamp of any remarkable 
 event, are without interest, when compared with classic ground." * 
 
 " 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 like to thee ? 
 Thy very weeds are beautiful, thy waste 
 More rich than other climes' fertility ; 
 Thy wreck a glory, and thy ruin graced 
 With an immaculate charm which cannot be defaced." Byron. 
 
 That Rome is the place, beyond comparison, above all others, 
 for an artist to form himself in, there cannot remain even a doubt. 
 A journey thither, provided nothing else were obtained, would be 
 amply compensated by the acquisition alone of that almost indescrib- 
 able spirit of enthusiasm almost invariably inspired by the genius of 
 the place ; and without which it is in vain to expect any thing either 
 great or sublime. The very astonishing manner in which, as if by 
 some spell of enchantment, the stranger is awakened to the con- 
 templation of art, and the singular devotion with which, upon his 
 
 * Madame De Stael. 
 
FOR AN ARTIST. I95 
 
 very arrival almost, (supposing him to be gifted with only a 
 moderate degree of taste,) he bends his thoughts and attention to 
 things connected with it, are circumstances which can be understood 
 by those persons only who have visited that city. 
 
 The sort of emotion here mentioned is not momentary or of a 
 transient nature, but is kept up and nourished by an excitement 
 continually at work ; and before the new comer has been at Rome 
 half a dozen days, he finds himself carried irresistibly along by that 
 intensity of feeling and that ardour which animate every class of 
 society in the place. 
 
 In other capitals, it is true, statues and pictures, and objects well 
 fitted for the student in art, may be abundantly found ; but the grand 
 stirring principle, that Promethean fire, which warms and gives life 
 to the votary of taste, is no where experienced in one half so power- 
 ful a degree. Every thing, indeed, conspires to keep alive this sen- 
 timent. The objects of grandeur and interest by which the visitor is 
 surrounded on every side, and the recollections and classical asso- 
 ciations they convey ; the curiosity, eagerness, and anxiety that is felt 
 to realise those expectations which may have been previously 
 formed of making acquaintance with scenes and localities where the 
 heroes and sages of antiquity have trod, the pictures and statues 
 which the museums of the Vatican and Capitol contain ; besides the 
 innumerable palaces and villas of easy access, all filled with works 
 calculated to excite the most ardent feelings of admiration and 
 delight; — these, and so many other interesting objects, and which 
 are to be met with in this enchanting city alone, keep the mind in 
 one continued state of enquiry, in which nothing like stagnation, 
 indifference, or ennui can ever be known. Art, in fact, and works 
 of art, are here the every-day business of life, and our walks, our 
 rides, our conversations, and our very meals, even, partake of objects 
 connected with them. 
 
 Travellers, excepting perhaps some few, who, from professional 
 motives, may be led to indulge in a more accurate examination, are 
 usually content with a mere cursory view of the curiosities or works 
 
 c c 2 
 
196 
 
 FRENCH PAINTERS. 
 
 of art contained in them ; but at Rome things are conducted on a 
 quite different plan, and so catching is the ardour which prevails, 
 that little else will suffice but joining, with paper and pencil in hand, 
 the busy throng of adventurers every where engaged in their eager 
 pursuit of the arts. 
 
 During the period that the author resided there, might be seen 
 numbers of amateurs of independent fortune, who were under no 
 necessity, from pecuniary motives, of toiling or harassing them- 
 selves, but who, from the mere excitement which example creates, 
 and that extraordinary interest so universally felt, and which is con- 
 spicuous in the activity and industry of all, v/orked as hard, and 
 became as intent on their studies, as those whose less fortunate lot 
 obliged them to slave for their support. Such, indeed, were the 
 exertions in this way of several gentlemen, that they actually outdid, 
 in their number of sketches, many even of the regular artists and 
 professional students. 
 
 That the same sort of feeling may be expected to take place in 
 any other capital, let the accumulation of fine specimens, in either 
 sculpture or painting, be ever so numerous or select, it is in vain to 
 suppose. We have already seen, that in a neighbouring country the 
 experiment has been tried, and with how much success let the pro- 
 ductions of its modern artists declare. The national taste, indeed, 
 of the French does not appear to have been improved in the degree 
 that might have been expected by the treasures which the Louvre 
 contained ; and, in as far as the arts of Napoleon's empire derived 
 advantage from the theft, he might have saved himself the disgrace 
 of having pillaged the whole Continent in the very outrageous and 
 unjustifiable manner he did. The dry, glaring, and, for the most 
 part, unsightly specimens of the modern French School, as seen in 
 the gallery of the Luxembourg, are so unlike, and so totally foreign 
 to any thing which the works of the great masters of antiquity dis- 
 play, that no one could, for a moment, suppose the artists by whom 
 they have been executed had ever set eyes upon a single picture of 
 the kind. 
 
GALLERY OF THE LOUVRE. 
 
 197 
 
 " Whether we consider," says an author of discernment, " the 
 character of these removals, with reference to the glory, as it is called, 
 of those who committed them, or to the interests of taste, it will be 
 found that they chiefly reflect ignominy and merit censures. 
 
 " The finest emotions and associations of thought which these 
 works suggested in their original seats, became dissolved and dissi- 
 pated by their transportation. The statue that warmed and inspired 
 the soul in Rome, is chiefly a prompter of regrets and misgivings 
 when placed in a gallery of the Tuilleries. The enthusiasm excited 
 in its primitive situation was of the highest poetical and moral kind ; 
 but this is chilled when we find it surrounded by French academi- 
 cians and connoisseurs taking notes and snufF. 
 
 " Neither can I allow that even the study of art is likely to be 
 benefited by the change. A worse mistake cannot be committed 
 than the supposition that facilities are chiefly useful to the cause of 
 taste and science ; — it would be much more true to say, that diffi- 
 culties and impediments do it service. The pockets and convenience 
 of students may be consulted, but nothing that tames the ambition 
 of genius, or the enthusiasm with which the works of art are re- 
 garded, can promote its excellence or reputation. Let the student 
 be exposed to hazards ; the fire is necessary to part pure metal from 
 the dross ; — let him incur difficulties ; they will, if he be worthy of 
 his pursuit, increase his ardour ; — a lover's passion is rendered more 
 intense by having to rescue his beloved from behind the bars of a 
 window. Let the student be led in a painful pilgrimage to the 
 honour of his divinity, from Paris to Germany, from Germany to 
 Rome, from Rome to Florence. The sacred flame will be fanned 
 by the motion, and his mind be informed and corrected by ob- 
 servation." * 
 
 " To wave the consideration," says another writer upon the same 
 subject, " of the morality of this act of rapine, it may be doubted 
 whether, instead of promoting the arts, it did not retard their pro- 
 
 * Scott's Visit to Paris in 1814. 
 
198 
 
 CAMERE DI RAFFAELLO. 
 
 gress. For if success depend upon genius, and genius be awakened 
 and brought into action by circumstances ; if a certain agitation of 
 mind, a fermentation of thought, an earnestness of effort, or, in one 
 word, if enthusiasm be as essential in painting and sculpture as it is 
 in poetry and eloquence, the sole question then will be, whether 
 Paris or Rome is most likely to produce in the mind this creative 
 power, this vivida vis, the very soul and source of excellence. In 
 the former there is not one object to excite emotion, nor one monu- 
 ment to awaken recollection ; no scene to enchant the eye, no form 
 to swell the imagination ; while the latter teems with the images of 
 the past and the wonders of the present, exhibiting the grand or the 
 beautiful at every step, and keeping the stronger and more effective 
 emotions of the mind, its admiration, delight, and melancholy, in 
 constant action. 
 
 ' Veuve du peuple roi, reine encore du monde.' De Lille. 
 
 " But independent of this consideration, as long as the Camere 
 di Raffaello remain in Rome, and that will be as long as Rome 
 exists, so long the painter will consider it as the school of art ; and 
 so long must those who profess and those who admire the art flock 
 to the Vatican as to its sanctuary. All the pictures in the gallery of 
 Paris united do not equal the skill, the variety, the invention, the 
 execution, the forms, the groups, the lights, the shades, that breathe, 
 and live, and move, and flit over those wonderful walls, and set the 
 painter's soul on fire as he contemplates. 
 
 " We do not discover that the possession of so many master- 
 pieces has had any very perceptible effect on the taste of the public 
 (in Paris) or the execution of the artists." * 
 
 It is not the antiquities and works of art only that tend to excite 
 the enthusiasm which the stranger feels upon visiting Rome ; every 
 thing conspires to raise and to keep alive such feelings ; added to 
 these, the extraordinary interest excited by the number of accom- 
 
 * Eustace's Letter from Paris, 1814. 
 
ROME. 
 
 199 
 
 plished visitors of all countries and religions, who, in constant suc- 
 cession, come in pilgrimage to the shrine of antiquity, and who, by 
 the contemplation of the merits and glories of departed worth, often 
 feel themselves, as it were, miraculously endowed with new qualities. 
 " The collision of minds, fraught with learning, in that high state of 
 excitement, which the genius of the place produces on the coldest 
 imaginations, together with those innumerable, brilHant, and transi- 
 tory topics which are never elicited in any other city, make the 
 Roman conversations a continual exercise of the understandine;. The 
 details of political intrigue and the follies of individuals excite but little 
 interest amongst strangers in Rome. It seems as if by an universal 
 tacit resolution, national and personal peculiarities and prejudices are 
 forgotten, and that all strangers simultaneously turn their attention to 
 the transactions and affairs of former ages, and of statesmen and authors 
 now no more. Their mornings are spent in surveying the monuments 
 raised to public virtue, and in giving local features in their minds to 
 the knowledge which they have acquired by the perusal of those 
 works that have perpetuated the dignity of the Roman character. 
 Their evenings are often allotted to the comparison of their respec- 
 tive conjectures, and to ascertain the authenticity and history of 
 relics which they may have collected of ancient art. Every recreation 
 of the stranger at Rome is an effort of memory, of abstraction, and 
 of fancy." * 
 
 Judging from the author's admiration of every thing connected 
 with this interesting city, it would seem that he considers a resid- 
 ence at Rome as almost an indispensable requisite for the perfection 
 of a painter. It must, indeed, be confessed, that he is very mucli 
 inclined to that way of thinking; more especially, when he reflects 
 upon the works of Sir Joshua Reynolds, of Wilson, and of Barry, 
 in which are to be seen so much of the lofty and sublime. 
 
 That there are excellent artists who have never seen Italy it 
 would be perfectly absurd to deny, since, at this very moment, some 
 
 • Gait's Life of West. 
 
200 
 
 ENGLISH AND FRENCH STUDENTS. 
 
 of our own bear evident testimony to the fact. * Still the writer 
 cannot help being of opinion, that even these, were the experiment 
 to be tried, might derive very essential advantage from the superior 
 opportunities for study, and the valuable and classical information 
 to be acquired in that spirit-stirring place. Notwithstanding this, 
 let it not be supposed, that the advantages to be derived from the 
 vast number of fine specimens of art to be found in our own country, 
 so many of which have been brought originally from that very seat 
 of the arts, are lightly esteemed by the author ; or that it is to be 
 inferred from what hath been said respecting the little improve- 
 ment which the French appear to have gained from that grand 
 assemblage of old masters, which they boasted of not long ago, that 
 the benefits which such a collection is calculated to confer, are lost 
 sight of ; or that, moreover, a national gallery, in our own country, 
 will not be most highly conducive to our advancement in art ; the 
 writer is the furthest possible from entertaining any opinion of the 
 kind. There is, however, a circumstance deserving of sonxe notice 
 in our consideration of this subject, and which may, it is presumed, 
 in some degree account for so apparent a contradiction. 
 
 It is the difference, at all times, so strikingly observable in the 
 dispositions and national character of the two countries, and the dif- 
 ferent objects which, generally speaking, (for there are many excep- 
 
 * It is believed that Mr. Hilton is of this number. A painter of greater powers in 
 invention, design, execution, and colouring, the world has not been able to boast of for 
 a length of time. It is surely to be lamented, that talents so splendid should be suffered 
 to exert themselves without due encouragement; and that such fine specimens as those 
 we have lately seen from the pencil of this accomplished artist, should, for want of a 
 patron, be taken down from the walls, successively, of Somerset House and the British 
 Institution, to be carried back, with their just claims to public favour humbled, dis- 
 appointed, and mortified, to no other than to those enclosing the study of him who has 
 produced them ! " O tempora, O mores ! .'" 
 
 " One of the noblest efforts of modern painting, in the splendid composition 
 from Comus, a picture combining the classic conception of Poussin with the gorgeous 
 harmony of Titian, is still unsold. Yet we boldly aver, that modern works, such as 
 this, would grace any picture gallery in the world." — Somerset House Gazette, for 
 March 20. 1824. 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH STUDENTS. 2OI 
 
 tions,) their respective students in art have in view, while pursuing 
 their studies. 
 
 The natural modesty and diffidence, usually observable in the 
 English character, form a striking contrast to the opposite vanity and 
 self-conceit which prevail so very frequently in that of our neigh- 
 bours ; and is, perhaps, no where more generally to be seen than 
 in one of the large public galleries of pictures abroad. 
 
 From this disparity arises a most surprising difference, as to 
 the respective advantages to be gained by the two nations, in study- 
 ing the works of the old masters. 
 
 An English student is sufficiently satisfied if, in his copy, he 
 can so far succeed as to imitate, or even come near to, the excel- 
 lence of the picture he may have selected for his improvement ; 
 whereas a Frenchman seldom believes that he shall not quite equal, 
 if not improve upon, the original. The author has witnessed a hun- 
 dred instances of these opposite national feelings, as well as the 
 certain result, invariably visible, as might naturally be expected, in 
 the productions of the respective artists, actuated by the one or 
 other of these sentiments. For our neighbours to have failed, there- 
 fore, in deriving advantages from the opportunities which they pos- 
 sessed, is no reason for supposing that similar assistance would be 
 useless to us. 
 
 On the contrary, nothing tends so effectually to excite ardour 
 and ambition in the youthful mind as l ic sight and contemplation 
 of splendid examples of art; and without a certain degree of copying 
 in the commencement of his studies, there can be little chance of 
 ulterior success. 
 
 After the taste has been in some degree formed, and a correct 
 knowledge of the figure obtained, together with a certain proficiency 
 in the practice of the mechanical part of the art, then is the time 
 for a visit to Rome ; after which the old masters would be studied 
 with additional interest and effect. 
 
 " I am of opinion," says Sir Joshua, " that the study of other 
 masters may be extended throughout out whole lives, without any 
 
 D D 
 
202 NATIONAL GALLERY. 
 
 danger of the inconveniences with which it is charged, of enfeebling 
 the mind, or preventing us from giving that original air which 
 every work undoubtedly ought always to have. 
 
 " It is of the greatest consequence," continues Sir Joshua, " that 
 our minds should be habituated to the contemplation of excellence, and 
 that so far from being contented to make such habits the discipline 
 of youth only, we should, to the last moment of our lives, continue a 
 settled intercourse with all the true examples of grandeur. Their 
 inventions are not the food of our infancy, but the substance which 
 supplies the fullest maturity of our vigour." * 
 
 Considered in this light, a National Gallery cannot fail to be of 
 infinite use ; it will, in his early practice, excite in the student a love 
 and admiration of his art, and, at a more mature period, contribute 
 to regulate his taste and enlarge his imagination. " Those great 
 masters," says again our inimitable instructor, " who liave travelled 
 the same road with success, are the most likely to conduct others. 
 The works of those who have stood the test of ages have a claim to 
 that respect and veneration to which no modern can pretend. The 
 duration and stability of their fame is sufficient to evince that it has 
 not been suspended upon the slender thread "of fashion and caprice. 
 There is no danger of studying too much the works of these great 
 men." f 
 
 Had there fortunately been, some trifling number of years ago, 
 a National Gallery, what a collection of pictures would this country, 
 even already, have possessed ! The Dulwich and Fitzwilliam pictures, 
 it would most assuredly have contained ; and who can say what, in 
 that case, our patriotic and liberal-minded Sir Joshua might have 
 done? Such, I have good reason to believe, were the sentiments of 
 the late Mr. Angerstein respecting this very imj)ortant subject. 
 There is little doubt he would have bequeathed a contribution of no 
 inconsiderable importance, out of his very splendid and unique col- 
 lection, had there but been a suitable receptacle for them. 
 
 * Discourses of Sir Joshua Reynolds. f Ibid. 
 
NATIONAL GALLERY. 
 
 203 
 
 How singularly gratifying, therefore, is the reflection, that a har- 
 bour, at once commodious and capacious, is about to be constructed, 
 and that we have no longer to fear still further shipwreck of commo- 
 dities so valuable, the possession of which cannot fail to prove, in a 
 very high degree, conducive to the welfare and renown of Great 
 Britain. 
 
 D D 2 
 
204 
 
 CHAP. 11. 
 
 CURIOUS OCCURRENCE THAT HAPPENED TO THE AUTHOR. — PLEASURE AFFORDED BY A 
 
 VISIT TO ROME. OBJECTS OF STUDY WITH A VIEW TO FUTURE ENJOYMENT. VIRTUOUS 
 
 EMPLOYMENT THE TRUE SOURCE OF HAPPINESS. ADVANTAGE DERIVED FROM THE CUL- 
 TIVATION OF TASTE. THE CALLOUSNESS OF SOME MINDS TO THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE. 
 
 MANY PERSONS INCAPABLE OF BEING HAPPY UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, HOWEVER 
 
 PROSPEROUS. CONTEMPLATION OF NATURE. NECESSITY OF KEEPING OUR THOUGHTS 
 
 USEFULLY EMPLOYED. MISFORTUNE, SOONER OR LATER THE LOT OF ALL. — ADVAN- 
 TAGES TO BE DERIVED FROM THE CULTIVATION OF TASTE, IN THE SEASON OF AFFLICTION. 
 
 TRUE HAPPINESS OF A RETIRED NATURE. — THE PURSUITS RECOMMENDED THE BEST 
 
 RESOURCES UNDER ALL CIRCUMSTANCES OF LIFE. — WHATEVER PURIFIES, FORTIFIEg 
 THE HEART. THE ARTS SOFTEN AND REFINE. RELIGION THE INSEPARABLE COM- 
 PANION OF THE LOVE OF NATURE. 
 
 The relation of a somewhat curious adventure that occurred to the 
 author during his residence at Rome, and which the mention of that 
 capital recalls to his memory, may not, perhaps, afford an unaccept- 
 able variety to the subject. 
 
 Returning one day from a sketching excursion along the Appian 
 way, and having recently entered the Porta San Sebastiano, I per- 
 ceived, in that unfrequented part of the extensive and uninhabited 
 portion of the ancient city, a small portal standing partly open in one 
 of those walls that are usually continued on both sides of the road, 
 and which my curiosity induced me to pass through. 
 
 Tliis proved to be the entrance into a rather spacious quadrangu- 
 lar court, bearing the appearance of having been formerly a garden, 
 and which, from the vast number of human skulls and cross bones, 
 arranged with peculiar order and regularity around, seemed like the 
 cemetery belonging to some convent, of which there are so many in 
 the neighbourhood of Rome. The enclosure described led into an- 
 other smaller court-yard, containing several different apartments, 
 the doors of which were all open, although not a soul was to be 
 
CURIOUS OCCURRENCE. 
 
 205 
 
 seen. Having by this time advanced to a considerable distance from 
 the first en trance- door, and reflecting that I was alone, and surrounded 
 at the same time by such a multitude of cheerless accompaniments, 
 the eloquent memorials of death, I began to think within myself it 
 was high time to meditate a retreat from so melancholy an abode* 
 As, however, my eye was attracted by a room still further on, the 
 door of which was also ajar, I ventured, having my curiosity raised 
 by the singularity of the place, to push it open ; when, straightway, a 
 spectacle the most appalling was presented to my view, such a one, 
 indeed, as almost petrified my every nerve on the spot. 
 
 At the further end of a large and gloomy-looking apartment 
 lay, extended on his back, the naked figure of a man, with his throat 
 cut, to all appearance very recently, from ear to ear ; having the 
 head, which was streaming with blood, directly opposed to my view, 
 and which was hanging over the edge of the table, upon which the 
 body was laid. In a sort of gallery yet again further on, I fancied 
 that I perceived something like the figure of a man, gliding along ; 
 but such were the dreadful reflections which passed over my mind, 
 that I took very quickly to my heels, never once looking behind 
 until I found myself fairly again in the street, or rather road, as it 
 more properly might be called, from which, recluse and solitary as 
 it was, I made the best of my way. The very uncomfortable sens- 
 ations which this adventure occasioned, continued to annoy me for 
 some days after it occurred, so incessantly was my mind haunted by 
 the ghastly appearance described. 
 
 The author was afterwards informed that the building in ques - 
 tion had formerly been a convent, but was subsequently appro- 
 priated to anatomical purposes. Never again, however, does he 
 desire to come across so horrifying a spectacle, which, perhaps, under 
 the hands of a Mrs. RadclilFe, might afford no unapt subject for a 
 scene. 
 
 As persons unacquainted with the locality of " The City of the 
 Seven Hills," may think it somewhat singular that there should be, 
 within the very walls of a town, tracts so solitary, and at the same 
 
206 
 
 PLEASURE AFFORDED BY 
 
 time so extensive, the writer will subjoin a short description of this 
 part of Rome, as it is given in a well written anonymous work, lately 
 published. 
 
 " The walls," says the author, " which now surround the city, 
 form a circuit of about fourteen miles, and comprise an immense ex- 
 tent of unpeopled land. The stranger may wander for hours and 
 miles, within the walls of this great capital, in solitude and silence, as 
 unbroken as if he were in a desert. He will pass along untrodden 
 roads, and by abandoned habitations ; he will see no life within their 
 gates ; no human being to greet him, and no voice will answer to his 
 call. Over a wide extent of Rome, to the south, her hills are desolate. 
 To the north, and in the plain of the Campus Martins alone, there is 
 life and motion."* 
 
 " I have seen the walls of Balclutha, but they were desolate. 
 The fire had resounded in the halls : and the voice of the people is 
 heard no more. The stream of Clutha was removed from its place, 
 by the fall of the walls. The thistle shook, there, its lonely head : 
 the moss whistled to the wind. Desolate is the dwelling of Moina, 
 silence is in the house of her fathers. Raise the song of mourning, 
 O bards ! over the land of strangers. They have but fallen before 
 us : for, one day, we must fall." j* 
 
 While treating upon sketching from nature, the author cannot 
 but recall to his recollection the enjoyment experienced in the 
 many interesting and agreeable parties, so frequently planned during 
 his residence in Rome, for the purpose of carrying away, with the 
 aid of the pencil, memoranda of that highly picturesque scenery, and 
 those magnificent ruins, that meet the traveller on every side, while 
 exploring the venerable and classic remains of this extraordinary 
 place. 
 
 " The name of Rome," says Mr. Eustace, " echoes in our ears 
 from our infancy; our lisping tongues are tuned to her language; 
 and our first and most delightful years are passed among her orators. 
 
 Rome in the Nineteenth Century. 
 
 f Ossian. 
 
1 
 
A VISIT TO ROME. 
 
 207 
 
 poets, and historians. We are taught betimes to take a deep interest 
 in her fortunes, and to adopt her cause as that of our own country, 
 with spirit and passion. Such impressions, made at such an age, are 
 indelible, and, it must be admitted, are likely to influence our feelings 
 and opinions during life." * 
 
 " There are few gratifications more exquisite than those which 
 we experience in being able to identify the scenes and realise the 
 descriptions which have been long consecrated in the mind by 
 genius and virtue, which have supplied the fancy with its earliest 
 images, and are connected in the memory with its most lasting asso- 
 ciations. In such moments as these we appear to be able to arrest 
 the progress and lessen the devastations of time. We hardly con- 
 template with regret the ages that have passed in silence and obli- 
 vion ; and we behold, for the first time, the fading and faint 
 descriptions of language, stamped with the fresh impressions of 
 reality and truth." f 
 
 " All the distant and romantic events of history are realised by 
 the presence of scenes in which they were acted ; the long interval 
 of ages is at once annihilated, and we seem to live, and move, and 
 think, with those who have gone before us. Here, far from every 
 sound and sight of man, and surrounded only with the ruined monu- 
 ments of ancient greatness, I have, indeed, felt that it is at Rome 
 only we live more in the past than in the present." | 
 
 Among the many circumstances of a pleasurable nature which 
 the author has experienced, there are scarcely any which have so 
 much contributed to the acquisition of pure, unmixed, and sub^- 
 stantial enjoyment, as the course of study and the pursuits which 
 engaged his attention during the period spent in this celebrated 
 nursery of the arts. It is there, in fact, that may be obtained, in a 
 degree superior to what all other places in the world can bestow, 
 materials for furnishing that delightful and inexhaustible source of 
 
 * Eustace's Classical Tour through Italy. 
 X Rome in the Nineteenth Century. 
 
 t Mitford's Life of Gray. 
 
2Qg VIRTUOUS EMPLOYMENT 
 
 happiness, which " constant occupation, without care," never fails to 
 afford ; and which cannot, at any time, be wanting to him who is 
 possessed of a mind well stored with recollections and information 
 fitted to produce a relish for the study and attainments of art, toge- 
 ther with the various and interesting reminiscences which travelling 
 supplies, let outward circumstances be ever so unfavourable or un- 
 toward. " Supposing always a competency," says our sound and 
 able philosopher, " the genuine source of happiness is virtuous 
 employment, pursued with ardour, and regulated by our own 
 choice." * 
 
 " Oh ! blest seclusion from a jarring world, 
 
 Which he thus occupied enjoys." Cowper. 
 
 Such, indeed, have been, in all ages, the sentiments of those 
 whose wisdom has been derived from experience and a knowledge of 
 human nature. " Is mihi vivere demum, atque frui anima videtur, 
 qui aliquo negotio intentus, prseclari facinoris, aut artis bonag famam 
 quagrit." "j" And such will ever be the case ; for whether in the sun- 
 shine of prosperity, when all goes on smoothly and well, or in the de- 
 pressive moments of affliction or ill health, its benign influence will 
 be found invariably the same. The gay assemblages of pleasure, 
 the animating sports of the field, the concert, the ball, or the mas- 
 querade, together with every amusement which rational society 
 affords, no one has enjoyed, when used in a moderate way, more than 
 the author; but he can with the greatest truth declare, that in no zest 
 of amusement, or in any assortment of company, however exhilarat- 
 ing or refined, has he experienced one half of the pleasurable, the 
 independent, and lasting gratification derived from that concentration 
 
 * Malone's Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 f Sallust. — " As far as my own observation goes, that man appears to me to follow 
 the most rational way of living, and to relish, in a higher degree than any other, the real 
 enjoyments of existence, who is endeavouring to acquire a reputation in the ardent 
 prosecution of some great undertaking, or to distinguish himself in the pursuit of the 
 liberal arts." 
 
SHAKSPEARE. 
 
 THIS transcendent poet of Nature, the glory of the British nation, 
 was the son of Mr. John Shakspeare, a consideraltle dealer in the wool- 
 trade, at Stratford upon Avon; where our immortal bard, William, the 
 eldest of ten children, was born, on the i6th of April T564.. 
 
 After a very slight education at the grammar-school of the town, he 
 applied himself to his father's business ; and married, in his seventeenth 
 year, a respeflable young woman, in the neighbourhood, whose name 
 Vvas Hathaway. 
 
 The circumstance which brought Shakspeare to London is to be re- 
 gretted, hovvever we may rejoice at the consequence ; being nothing less 
 than that of having indiscreetly joined some other thoughtless young 
 men in purloining deer from the adjacent park of Sir Thomas Lucy, 
 who menaced a prosecution. 
 
 Whether distress, or the natural bent of his mind, led him to one of 
 the numerous little theatres then abounding in the metropolis and it's 
 environs, is by no means ascertainable; but nothing can be more cer- 
 tain, than that, after some time, he was engaged to perform subordinate 
 chara£lers, probably in his own first dramatick efforts. 
 
 As an aflor, there seems good reason to believe, that he never reached 
 higher than the charafter or the Ghost, in his tragedy of Hamlet : as a 
 dramatick writer, he soon excelled all that went before him; and, w; 
 believe, there are few persons acquainted with his produdcions who ex- 
 peff ever to see him equalled. 
 
 His native goodness of heart, and chearful and agreeable manners, 
 were scarcely surpassed even by his exalted genius. 
 
 Having written thirty-six plays ; been for a considerable time joint 
 proprietor of the Globe Theatre, Bankside, Southwark; and acquired, 
 ny his splendid talents and assiduity, sufficient propeity to satisfy his 
 very moderate views ; he piuchased a genteel residence at his native 
 place, and prudently retired from the care and fatigue of business, to 
 pass the remainder of his days with ease and tranquillity, in the rational 
 enjoyment of a rural life. 
 
 He died the a3d of April 1616. exaflly one week after complcating 
 his fifty-second year ; and was interred among his ancestors, in the 
 great church of Stratford upon Avon. 
 
 Shakspeare's widow survived him seven years; and he left two 
 daughters, who were both married: but his family became extinct in 
 the third generation after his decease. Hi^ literary progeny, ho^vever, 
 the incorruptible offspring of his immortal mind, will be dear to every 
 grateful and susceptible bosom, till time itself shall be no more. 
 
THE TRUE SOURCE OF HAPPINESS. 
 
 209 
 
 of self, if the expression may be used, in which, aided by those 
 resources which his own reflections have supphed, and to which the 
 study of nature and the pursuits of art have so very materially con- 
 tributed, he has felt alike indifferent to the turmoils or the delights 
 which agitate uncultivated minds, and which become restless and dis- 
 contented because unemployed. 
 
 This may, not improbably, have somewhat the appearance of 
 self-praise ; such, however, it is far from being intended. That the 
 delightful study here recommended is capable of producing all this, 
 the writer has himself experienced in an eminent degree ; and his 
 only concern now is, without consideration of self, to point out, for 
 the instruction and advantage of others, the method of obtaining the 
 like means of enjoyment, accompanied with the same self-satisfac- 
 tion, and an equal tranquillity of mind. 
 
 " Thus blest, I draw a picture of that bliss ; 
 Hopeless, indeed, that dissipated minds, 
 And profligate abusers of the world 
 Created fair so much in vain for them, 
 Should seek the guiltless joys that I describe, 
 Allured by my report; but sure no less. 
 That, self-condemn'd, they must neglect the prize, 
 And what they will not taste m,ust yet approve." Cowper. 
 
 Many persons there are, it cannot admit of a doubt, cold, " dull, 
 and insensible," 
 
 " Unlustrous as the smoky light that's fed 
 
 With stinking tallow." Shakspeare. 
 
 who will look upon much that hath been said respecting the author's 
 favourite theme, as nothing better than the wild and wandering ima- 
 ginings of an enthusiast's mind. To such he seeks not to address 
 himself, they being, he is quite sure, unable to comprehend, and still 
 less capacitated to feel, the nature or the meaning of that species of 
 enjoyment he has endeavoured to describe. 
 
 To those more rational and sober-minded beings, however, who 
 will be at the trouble of perusing, with serious attention, such por- 
 tions of this work as have been extracted from the authorities of 
 
210 
 
 ADVANTAGE DERIVED FROM 
 
 more able writers on the same subject, it will be sufficiently clear 
 that he does not stand single and unsupported in the opinions enter- 
 tained, and that there certainly have been otlier enthusiasts as well 
 as himself. The names of Akenside, Thomson, Beattie, Cowper, 
 Richardson, Alison, Stewart, — poets, painters, philosophers, with- 
 out end, — might be sufficient, it may be thought, to keep him in 
 countenance on this occasion, and to rescue him at once from the 
 charge of an overweening and extravagant admiration of the value 
 and dominion of taste, a studious attention to the cultivation of 
 which he is so desirous to recommend. 
 
 That advantages so signal and inestimable are to be obtained 
 by means as unusual as little thought of, there are numbers who will 
 never be brought to believe ; persons, indeed, are to be found, whose 
 minds are so unfortunately constructed as to be altogether devoid of 
 feeling for, and absolutely dead, as it were, to every pleasure of the 
 kind, and to whom such sentiments must appear little else than 
 visionary and absurd ; to talk of " calm contemplation and poetic 
 ease" to such, is to address them in a language not only totally un- 
 known to them but perfectly unintelligible. 
 
 " It is strange to observe the callousness of some men, before 
 whom all the glories of heaven and earth pass in daily succession 
 without touching their hearts, elevating their fancy, or leaving any 
 durable remembrance. Even of those who pretend to sensibility, 
 how many are there to whom the lustre of the rising or setting sun, 
 the sparkling concave of the midnight sky, the mountain forest toss- 
 ing and roaring to the storm, or warbling with all the melodies of a 
 summer evening ; the sweet interchange of hill and dale, shade and 
 susnhine, grove, lawn, and water, which an extensive landscape offers 
 to the view ; the scenery of the ocean, so lovely, so majestic, and 
 so tremendous, and the many pleasant varieties of the animal and 
 vegetable kingdom, would never afford so much real satisfaction as 
 the steams and noise of a ball-room, the insipid fiddling and squeak- 
 ing of an opera, or the vexations and wranglings of a card-table ! 
 
 " But there are some minds of a different make, who, even in 
 
THE CULTIVATION OF TASTE. 
 
 211 
 
 the early part of life, receive from the contemplation of nature a 
 species of delight which they would not exchange for any other ; and 
 who, as avarice and ambition are not the infirmities of that period, 
 are indifferent to almost every thing which fortune can refuse, so 
 long as the beauties of nature are open to them, and that they can, 
 with undisturbed enjoyment, feast upon those rapturous delights 
 which their contemplation inspires. 
 
 " Such minds have always in them the seeds of true taste, and 
 frequently of imitative genius. At least, though their enthusiastic or 
 visionary turn of mind (as the man of the world would call it) should 
 not always incline them to practise poetry or painting, we need not 
 scruple to affirm, that without some portion of this enthusiasm, no 
 person ever became a true poet or painter. For he who would 
 imitate the works of nature must first accurately observe them ; and 
 accurate observation is to be expected from those only who take great 
 pleasure in it." * 
 
 " What strange beings we are ! Since we have, a portion of con- 
 scious existence, equally capable of enjoying pleasure, happiness, and 
 rapture, or of suffering pain, wretchedness, and misery, it is surely 
 worthy of enquiry, whether there be not such a thing as a science of 
 life ; whether method, economy, and fertility of expedients be not 
 applicable to enjoyments ; and whether there be not a want of dex- 
 terity in pleasure, which renders our little scantling of happiness still 
 less ; and a profuseness, an intoxication in bliss, which leads to satiety, 
 disgust, and self- abhorrence. There is not a doubt but that health, 
 talents, character, decent competency, respectable friends, are real 
 substantial blessings ; and yet, do we not daily see those who enjoy 
 many or all of these good things, continue, notwithstanding, to be as 
 unhappy as others, to whose lot few of them have fallen ?" f 
 
 " It is strange to observe, that there are few, if any, in the world 
 who enjoy all the blessings which are bestowed upon them, and make 
 their situation in life as happy as it might be. 
 
 * Essay on Poetry and Music. Beattie. f Burns's Works. 
 
 E E 2 
 
212 
 
 NECESSITY OF USEFUL EMPLOYMENT. 
 
 " Those who are freed from cares and anxieties, who are sur- 
 rounded by all the means of enjoyment, and whose pleasures present 
 themselves without being sought for, are often unhappy in the midst 
 of all, merely because that activity of the mind, in the proper exercise 
 of which our happiness consists, has in them no object on which it 
 may be employed." * 
 
 Pope says, that he never laid his head upon his pillow without 
 reflecting that the most important lesson of his life was to learn the 
 art of being happy within himself 
 
 " At every period of life, whether during the strength of youth 
 or the imbecility of age, the power of employing the mind in some 
 useful or agreeable occupation banishes the dread of solitude, which 
 is as indispensably necessary to give a just, solid, firm, and forcible 
 tone to our thoughts, as a knowledge of the world is to give them 
 richness, brilliancy, and application." f 
 
 " The human mind, we all know, is restless and active ; and, if 
 not otherwise engaged, will turn its activity inward, will prey upon 
 and devour itself, and become the destroyer of its own happiness. 
 A very large proportion of the evils which press the heaviest upon us 
 are purely imaginary, are the creation of our own liands, and arise 
 from no other cause than the having nothing else to do but to sit 
 down and make ourselves as miserable as we possibly can. 
 
 " One great means, therefore, of promoting cheerfulness, is to 
 keep our thoughts constantly and usefully employed. The pursuit 
 of any important and worthy object is in itself enlivening. Every 
 advance we make in it is a new accession of pleasure ; we feel our- 
 selves animated with a growing delight ; and go on with an increasing 
 ardour and alacrity to the attainment of the end we have in view. 
 
 " He who is employed will be continually animated with new 
 acquisitions, rewarded with new triumphs, and will feel nothing of 
 that languor and flatness, that gloom and melancholy, which are so 
 apt to seize upon unoccupied minds." J 
 
 • Miss Bowdler. f Zimmerman on Solitude. } Porteus. 
 
SORROW THE LOT OF ALL. 
 
 213 
 
 " Happy, indeed, are they who have acquired a rehsh for such 
 pleasures as pain and sorrow cannot take away ; since these, sooner 
 or later, must be the lot of all." * 
 
 That sorrow and misfortune, sooner or later, are destined to be 
 the lot of all, history, no less than experience, but too evidently 
 testify. Such, alas ! at this moment is, and has been for a long time, 
 the fate of him who now indites these pages. Here, however, it is, 
 in a more especial manner, that he will rest the chief merit of his 
 cause. Much has been said, in the preceding part of this work, re- 
 specting the pleasures and the advantages to be derived from the 
 study of nature and the cultivation of taste ; and great, indeed, they 
 most unquestionably are, in every point of view, and under every 
 circumstance of life. But it is in the dark and melancholy hour of 
 distress, of calamity, and misfortune, when sorrow and affliction, 
 " like an armed man," obtrude themselves on our path, that the full 
 value of their salutary influence will be found. These pursuits, in 
 fact, beyond all others, are occupations, of which it may be truly said, 
 that they are 
 
 " So pleasing, and so steal away the thought 
 With such address from themes of sad import, 
 That, lost in his own musings, happy man ! 
 He feels th' anxieties of life, denied 
 
 Their wonted entertainment, all retire." Cowper. 
 
 The reader may be assured, this is no vague assertion. There 
 is not any preaching here, but what practice and sad experience have 
 taught. 
 
 That we are by nature " born to trouble," is a truth that both 
 our religion and every day's demonstration make self-evident to all ; 
 is it not, then, the part of wisdom and sound policy, to be equipped 
 for the tempest, as well as the calm, in the dubious navigation of life ? 
 And may it not be worth while to consider, with some degree of 
 attention, what sort of preparation is most likely to enable us to 
 
 * Miss Bowdler. 
 
214 
 
 TRUE HAPPINESS OF A RETIRED NATURE. 
 
 weather the storm, when it actually arrives ? Many are the expe- 
 dients which the worldly and the vain have recommended for effect- 
 ing so desirable an end, and which are found to be no less various 
 than the inclinations and dispositions of those by whom they have 
 been suggested. 
 
 According to the opinions of some, the most certain and in- 
 fallible means for dissipating the cares and anxieties of life, are those 
 which the sensual and turbulent excitements afford ; " dum vivimus 
 vivamus*," say they. Those persons, on the contrary, whose actions 
 and conduct (by which alone, be it observed, a just and satisfactory 
 estimate can be formed) have been the result of experience and dis- 
 passionate reasoning, deduced under cool and temperate deliberation, 
 and which might consequently, one may reasonably think, be judged 
 as most likely to furnish the safest examples for our guidance and 
 instruction, are all of them, without exception, for an opposite 
 plan. 
 
 As every one must allow this to be a subject of very serious 
 importance, it being a question on which our happiness depends, it 
 may be satisfactory, perhaps, and not out of place, to see what a few 
 only of these last-mentioned moralists have said, concerning a matter, 
 at once so momentous and so highly interesting. 
 
 " Whenever we step out of domestic life in search of felicity," 
 says one, who, having moved in the more elevated rank of society, 
 was fully competent to judge of such matters, " we come back again 
 disappointed, tired, and chagrined. One day passed under our own 
 roof, is worth a thousand in any other place. The noise, the bustle, 
 or as they are politely called, the diversions of life, are despicable 
 and tasteless, when we have once experienced the delights of a fire 
 side."t 
 
 " The great end of prudence," it is said by the most able mo- 
 ralist of his day, " is to give cheerfulness to those hours which splen- 
 
 * " While we live let us enjoy the full pleasures of sense." 
 f Lord Ossery's Letters. 
 
TRUE HAPPINESS OF A RETIRED NATURE. 
 
 215 
 
 dour cannot gild, and acclamation cannot exhilarate ; those soft 
 intervals of unbended amusement, in which a man shrinks to his 
 natural dimensions, and throws aside the ornaments or disguises, 
 which he feels in privacy to be useless encumbrances, and to lose all 
 effect when they become familiar. To be happy at home is the ul- 
 timate result of ambition, the end to which every enterprise and 
 labour tends, and of which every desire prompts the prosecution."* 
 " True happiness is of a retired nature, and an enemy to pomp 
 and noise ; it arises, in the first place, from the enjoyment of one's 
 self, and, in the next, from the friendship and conversation of a few 
 select companions ; it loves shade and solitude, and naturally haunts 
 groves and fountains, fields and meadows ; in short, it feels every 
 thing it wants within itself, and receives no addition from multitudes 
 of witnesses and spectators." f 
 
 " Oh knew he but his happiness, of men 
 
 The happiest he ! who, far from public rag"^ 
 Deep in the vale, with a choice few retired, 
 Drinks the pure pleasures of the rural life. 
 Sure peace is his ; a solid life, enstranged 
 To disappointment, and fallacious hope ; 
 Health ever blooming ; unambitious toil ; 
 
 Calm contemplation, and poetic ease." Thomson. 
 
 * 
 
 " For happiness and true philosophy 
 Are of the social, still, and smiling kind," Ibid. 
 
 " On the contrary, false happiness loves to be in a crowd and to 
 draw the eyes of the world upon her. She does not receive any 
 satisfaction from the applauses which she gives herself, but from the 
 admiration which she raises in others. She flourishes in courts and 
 palaces, theatres and assemblies, and has no existence but when she 
 is looked upon !" % 
 
 " Be full ye courts, be great who will ; 
 Search for peace with all your skill. 
 
 * Rambler, f Addison. X Spectator. 
 
216 
 
 TRUE HAPPINESS OF A RETIRED NATURE. 
 
 Open wide the lofty door, 
 
 Seek her on the marble floor, 
 
 In vain you search, she is not there ; 
 
 In vain ye search, the domes of care ! 
 
 Grass and flowers Quiet treads. 
 
 On the meads and mountain heads, 
 
 Along with Pleasure, close allied, 
 
 Ever by each other's side ; 
 
 And often, by the mur.n'ring rill, 
 
 Hears the thrush, while all is still." Dyer. 
 
 " Care selve beate, 
 E voi solinghi e taciturni orrori 
 Di riposo e di pace alberghi veri, 
 O quanto volontieri 
 A rivedervi io torni ! E se le stelle 
 M' avesser dato in sorte 
 Di vivere a me stessa, e di far vita 
 Conforme alle mie voglie, 
 Io gia co' campi Elisi, 
 Fortunato giardin de' Semidei, 
 
 La vost'ombra gentil non cangerei." * Guarini. 
 
 " The fall of kings, 
 The rage of nations, and the crush of states. 
 Move not the man, who, from the world escaped, 
 In still retreats, and flowery solitudes. 
 To Nature's voice attends, from month to month. 
 And day to day, through the revolving year. 
 This is the life which those who fret in guilt, 
 
 And guilty cities, never knew." Thomson. 
 
 " Rura mihi, et rigui placeant in vallibus amnes, 
 Fluminaamem sylvasque inglorius." f Virgil. 
 
 * " O ye dear and blessed groves ! and ye lonely and silent solitudes ! the habitations 
 of never-failing peace and tranquillity. O, how willingly do I turn to revisit you ! Did it 
 please Fate to ordain that I were permitted to live according to my own wishes and inclin- 
 ation, I, most certainly, would not exchange your delightfully umbrageous haunts for 
 even the gardens of felicity, inhabited by the immortal gods, the very Elysian Fields them- 
 selves." 
 
 f " My next desire is, void of care and strife, 
 To lead a soft, secure, inglorious life. 
 A country cottage near a crystal flood, 
 
 A winding valley, and a lofty wood." Dryden. 
 
HxVPPINESS BEST SOUGHT IN LANDSCAPE PAINTING. 
 
 217 
 
 Thus, it is plain, that the ancients no less than the moderns ; 
 the poets as well as the writers in prose ; whether they give us 
 the language of the living or that of the dead, are, every one of them, 
 for the calm, the tranquil, and the retired walk of life. The grand 
 question then remaining is, to discover what are the resources and 
 consolations best calculated to occupy and amuse us therein ; and by 
 what practicable means the current of human life may be made to 
 flow in that smooth and placid manner, which it is so much the chief 
 and ultimate wish of every one to enjoy. 
 
 To this very important question the author will take upon him- 
 self, bold as it may seem, to give an answer. In no one way, then, 
 out of the innumerable roads which are so incessantly pursued, in 
 order to arrive at tiiis most desirable end, does it appear so likely to 
 be found in that pure and unmixed state, without impediment or 
 alloy, as in that wliich he has endeavoured with so much earnestness 
 to recommend. It is, indeed, his firm opinion and belief, that, in the 
 contemplation of nature, with a view to the pursuit of landscape 
 painting, will be sought, with a more encouraging prospect of success 
 than in almost any other way, that grand object of our anxious con- 
 cern, " our very being's end and aim," happiness, as far, at least, 
 as it is possible to be experienced in this transitory world. 
 
 For, in the first place, " Whatever purifies, fortifies the heart."* 
 Now, that the pursuits under consideration purify and refine, 
 the following observations will sufficiently evince, viz. 
 
 " Those whose natural feelings," says a writer of established 
 reputation, " have been properly improved by culture, nor yet have 
 become callous by attrition with the world, know, from experience, 
 how the heart is mollified, the manners polished, and the temper 
 sweetened, by a'well-directed study of the arts of imitation." "f 
 
 " Scilicet ingenium placida mollitur ab arte, 
 
 Et studiis mores convenienter eunt."t Ovid. 
 
 * Blair. f Knock's Essays. 
 
 % " Each pleasing art lends softness to the mind, 
 And with our studies are our lives refined." 
 
218 
 
 THE ARTS SOFTEN, REFINE, 
 
 " It is certain," observes Mr Hume, " that a serious attention 
 to the sciences and liberal arts softens and humanises the temper, 
 and cherishes the fine emotions in which true virtue and honour 
 consist. It rarely, very rarely, happens, that a man of taste and 
 learning is not at least an honest man, whatever frailties may attend 
 him." * 
 
 " Great wickedness, and great genius may have been united in 
 the same person ; but it may be doubted whether corruption of heart 
 and delicacy of taste be at all compatible." f 
 
 " Nothing is so improving to the temper as the study of the 
 beauties either of poetry, eloquence, music, or painting. They give 
 a certain elegance of sentiment to whicli the rest of mankind are 
 strangers. They draw off the mind from the hurry of business or 
 interest ; and produce an agreeable melancholy, which, of all dis- 
 positions of the mind, is the best suited to love and friendsliip."^ 
 
 " Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes 
 EmoUit mores, nec sinit esse feros."§ Ovid. 
 
 Such is the authority, besides many other similar quotations, 
 which might be produced for proving that the arts purify and 
 refine. 
 
 That those resources which they are capable of furnishing, 
 fortify also the mind, it will be equally easy to show, provided the 
 opinions of our very soundest philosophers are to be deemed worthy 
 of belief. Having in the course of this undertaking adduced already 
 so many arguments, supported by the authority of some of our ablest 
 writers, in proof of the value and utility of the Fine Arts, it would 
 seem almost needless to say more upon the subject. To show, how- 
 ever, that the author has it in his power to bring testimony of their 
 salutary efficacy under the pressure of misfortune also, and that the 
 
 * Hume's Essays. f Beattie's Essay on Poetry. % Hume's Essays. 
 
 § " To have learnt the liberal sciences thoroughly, softens much men's manners, 
 and suffers them not to be brutal." 
 
Mji^avfJ In/ WJL'U 
 
AND FORTIFY THE MIND, 
 
 219 
 
 pursuit of them is competent, very greatly, to fortify the mind 
 against the calamities of life, he will, for the reader's satisfaction, 
 produce the sentiments of one or two authors upon the subject, 
 whose reputation is too well established to admit, for one moment, 
 of a doubt. 
 
 " It is," observes a writer of well known celebrity, " a common 
 accusation against enthusiasm, that it is transitory; man were too 
 much blessed if he could fix and retain emotions so delightful ; but 
 it is because they are so easily dissipated and lost that we should 
 strive and exert ourselves to preserve them. Poetry and the Fine 
 Arts are the means of calling forth in man this happiness of illustri- 
 ous origin, which raises the depressed heart ; and, instead of an un- 
 quiet satiety of life, gives an habitual feeling of the divine harmony, 
 in which nature and ourselves claim a part. 
 
 " Days that are marked with a sad similarity by misfortune, or 
 with a dull uniformity by irksomeness, furnish the man whose mind 
 is employed by study with a great variety of incidents ; his days are 
 sweetly diversified from each other by the different pleasures, the pos- 
 session of which his powers of thought have achieved ; and what 
 gives a peculiar and marked characteristic to this kind of enjoyment 
 is, that the consciousness of having felt it in the evening, secures the 
 repetition of it the next day." * 
 
 Notwithstanding that the attention of the speaker when he 
 made use of the admirable expressions which will presently be 
 offered to the reader, was directed, it is true, to the contemplation 
 of a different art, they appear, nevertheless, to be so singularly 
 appropriate to that under consideration, of which, indeed, it is ever 
 justly denominated the sister, the two being so very closely and in- 
 timately connected, that no apology can be necessary for introducing 
 them. The words form pai t of a beautiful passage in the admirable 
 oration of Cicero for his friend Archias the poet, a performance, by 
 the way, which has done more for Archias than his own poetry ; for, 
 
 * Madame de Stael. 
 F F 2 
 
220 
 
 MIND SUPERIOR TO FORTUNE. 
 
 in all probability, his name would, like his verses, have been for- 
 gotten, and he himself have been amongst those who 
 
 " illacrymabiles 
 Urgentur, ignotique longa 
 Nocte," * 
 
 had he not been immortalised by the eloquence of the Roman ora- 
 tor. The words alluded to run thus : — " Hasc studia adolescentiam 
 alunt, senectutem oblectant, secundas res ornant, adversis perfugium 
 ac solatium preebent ; delectant domi, non impediunt foris, pernoc- 
 tant nobiscum, peregrinantur, rusticantur." f 
 
 " These resources," observes a writer of the very highest cele- 
 brity, " remain entire when the day of trouble comes. They remain 
 with their possessor in sickness, as in health ; in his dark and solitary 
 hours, no less than when surrounded with friends and gay society. 
 From the glare of prosperity he can, without dejection, withdraw 
 into the shade. Excluded from several advantages of the world, he 
 may be obliged to retreat into a narrower circle, but within that 
 circle he will find these comforts left. His chief pleasures were of 
 the calm, innocent, and temperate kind ; and over these the changes 
 of the world have the least power. His mind is a kingdom to him, 
 and he can still enjoy it. The world did not bestow upon him all his 
 enjoyments; and, therefore, it is not in the power of the world, by 
 its most cruel attacks, to carry them all away." 
 
 " Look abroad into life," continues this acute observer of man- 
 kind, " and you will find the general sense of mankind bearing 
 witness to this important truth, that mind is superior to fortune ; 
 and what one feels within, is of much greater importance than all 
 
 * " In endless night they sleep, unwept, unknown." Francis. 
 f Cicero. — " These pursuits improve the mind in youth, and afford amusement in 
 old age; they are an ornament to prosperity, and a refuge and a comfort in adversity; 
 they are delightful to us when at home, and are no hindrance out of doors; they engage 
 our attention even in the very dai-kness of night; they accompany us as well on our 
 journeys, as in the retirements of a quiet country life.'' 
 
RELIGION AND LANDSCAPE PAINTING INSEPARABLE. 
 
 221 
 
 that befalls him without. Let a man be brought into some such 
 severe- and trying situation, as fixes the attention of the public on his 
 behaviour. The first question which we put concerning him, is not. 
 What does he suffer ? but. How does he bear it ? Has he a quiet 
 mind ? or, Does he appear to be unhappy within ? If we judge him 
 to be composed, firm, and resigned, his character rises, and his 
 misery lessens in our view. We esteem and admire, rather than 
 pity him." * 
 
 " Delightful art ! how great thy friendly power, 
 That knows to cheer the melancholy hour ; 
 To teach at once the troubled mind to bear 
 Oppressive ills, and soften fell despair." 
 
 It may possibly be objected, that the foregoing quotation from 
 the works of a learned divine have a reference to objects of a nature 
 essentially different from those at present under consideration, in- 
 asmuch as, in all probability, neither the study of nature, nor the 
 fine arts, as a refuge under calamity, ever entered his head. To this 
 the writer very readily joins his assent; he must, however, at the 
 same time be allowed to observe, that he considers these several 
 objects as so inseparably connected with each other, that the one 
 cannot be felt, at least in any material degree, without necessarily 
 suggesting the other ; and that the road " through nature, up to 
 nature's God," is so direct and infallible, that, in following it, it is 
 utterly impossible for the traveller to go astray. Thus, it would seem, 
 that all he has been recommending about the study of nature and the 
 cultivation of taste, is little else than another mode of preaching reli- 
 gion, and that of a very cheerful and rational kind. 
 
 True, genuine religion, the author will venture to assert, must 
 ever be found the inseparable companion of landscape painting ; that 
 is to say, such a study of the art as is here meant to be understood; 
 and it is totally impossible that the one should be pursued, without 
 not only prompting, but implanting and nourishing those sentiments 
 
 * Blair's Sermons. 
 
222 
 
 PAINTING IS RELIGION. 
 
 which the other inspires. Will the whole science of logic furnish a 
 more scholastic syllogism than this ? The love of nature is religion ; 
 painting is the love of nature ; therefore, painting is religion. Mil- 
 ton, Gray, Thomson, Cowper, Beattie, Mason, were, every one of 
 them, painters in this sense of the word; and, at the same time, in 
 consequence, in a great measure, of being so, deeply impressed with 
 the sacred truths of our most holy religion, as their respective 
 works, together with the biography of each of them, sufficiently 
 testify. 
 
THE REV: WllLLIAM MASOIV. M.A. 
 
Ill the year of Our Lord Clirift 
 One thoufand leven himdred thirty and feven 
 This Bnft 
 oftheAuthor of PARADISE LOST 
 ■was placed here by^V^Uiam Benfon Efquire 
 One of the two Auditers of the Imprefts 
 to hisMaiefty King George the fecond 
 formerly 
 Surveyor General of the\A''orks 
 to hisMajeftyKingOeorgethefirft 
 
 was the Statuary who cut it. 
 
223 
 
 CHAP. HI. 
 
 SCEPTICISM. RELIGIOrS ENTHUSIASM. RATIONAL RELIGION. — CHEERFULNESS, THE 
 
 COMPANION OF THE LOVER OF NATURE. THE AUTHOR's RELIGION. DIFFICULTY OF 
 
 JUDGING OF THE FEELINGS OF OTHERS. NO HAPPINESS WITHOUT TRANQUILLITY OF 
 
 MIND. STUDY OF NATURE AND LANDSCAPE PAINTING HIGHLY CONDUCIVE THERETO. 
 
 THESE PURSUITS NEVER-FAILING RESOURCES UNDER CALAMITY. EXAMPLE IN 
 
 PROOF. ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. PLEASURE AND ADVANTAGES 
 
 TO BE DERIVED FROM THE STUDY OF PAINTING. 
 
 A RELIGION, such as that described in the foregoing chapter, cannot 
 fail to prove at once a rational, a cheerful,, and a comfortable reli- 
 gion, acceptable in the sight of Heaven, and calculated to promote 
 the happiness of the individual, while it tends to establish the peace 
 and harmony of society. It opens the direct path which leads to 
 happiness, avoiding on the one hand the bewildering mazes of 
 scepticism, and on the other, the no less perilous errors of enthu- 
 siasm. Yet how few, even in this enlightened age, can pursue that 
 middle course, without occasionally deviating into one or other of 
 the two extremes ! 
 
 In the higher and more intellectual ranks of society, it is to be 
 feared that there is too prevalent a disposition to reject those truths 
 which the common feelino;s of mankind have for ao;es venerated as 
 sacred, and to indulge in speculations which lead from perplexity to 
 perplexity, and only terminate in doubt. Those among them who 
 take the lead in public opinion, and have become eminent for the 
 boldness or ingenuity of their theories, are little to be envied for such 
 distinction : they may be said to resemble that class of rebellious 
 spirits whom Milton mentions as separated from " the common 
 damned" only by the refinement of their misery : 
 
 " Others, apart, sat on a hill retired, 
 Of thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high 
 Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will, and Fate, 
 Fixt Fate, Free Will, Foreknowledge absolute, 
 . And found no end, in wandering mazes lost." 
 
 * F F 4 
 
224 
 
 SCEPTICISM. — RELIGIOUS ENTHUSIASM. 
 
 It is remarkable that this speculative philosophy, as it is called, 
 which in former times was to be found only in the works of such 
 saturnine sages as Helvetius and Mirabaud, should have arrayed itself 
 in the attractive garniture of poetry. The present age has produced 
 men of high endowments and higher pretensions, who, while avow- 
 ing the profoundest admiration of " this goodly frame, the world," — 
 " this brave o'erhanging firmament," have either denied it to be the 
 work of an Intelligent Being, or have supposed that Being to delight 
 more in evil than in good. It might not, perhaps, be easy to adduce 
 an instance in which the love and admiration of Nature's works were 
 more deeply felt or more justly appreciated, than that of a late cele- 
 brated poet, whose powers of description have rarely been surpassed. 
 Yet in the full display of those powers we see no indication of gra- 
 titude towards the Giver of them, none of those expressions of ardent 
 piety which glow in the works of our earlier poets. We cannot 
 imagine that the mind of Lord Byron was incapable of so exalted a 
 feeling, yet we are constrained to believe that it was one which he 
 took no delight in cherishing. The absence of it constitutes the 
 great defect of his poetry, because it excites a bitter and now un- 
 availing regret that he should not have applied his great powers to 
 their worthiest use. Notwithstanding his splendid genius, he will 
 be remembered chiefly as a satirist, and it is to be feared that his 
 efforts in this capacity have only confirmed the faults which they 
 might have been intended to expose and to correct. Amidst the 
 general applause which he commands, it is not to be denied that his 
 works are quoted with exultation by the libertine, the sceptic, and 
 the atheist. 
 
 With respect to the other extreme which has been mentioned, 
 it may be observed, that the evils which attend it are not less to be 
 lamented because those who suffer from them are objects rather of 
 pity than of censure. Religious enthusiasm, at least that species of 
 it which creates habitual gloom of mind and austerity of life, may 
 be said to defeat the purposes for which religion was instituted, since 
 in some cases it diminishes, and in others absolutely annihilates the 
 
RATIONAL RELIGION. 
 
 225 
 
 power of doing good. Contrition for past offences we are told, is 
 only the beginning of that wisdom whose ulterior paths are pleasant- 
 ness, and whose ways are peace. After that wholesome repentance 
 which produces amendment of life, the habit most consonant to a 
 mind which has entered upon the practice of its duties is cheerful- 
 ness. The most grateful homage to the Creator is temperately to 
 enjoy and freely to diffuse the blessings which he has placed at our 
 disposal. The fountains of hope and joy from which that ani- 
 mating principle is derived, are perennial ; they are closed only 
 against those who wilfully reject the consolations of religion, or live 
 in the habitual violation of its duties. " The vicious man and the 
 atheist," says Addison, " have therefore no pretence to cheerfulness, 
 and would act very unreasonably should they endeavour after it. It 
 is impossible for any one to live in good humour, and enjoy his pre- 
 sent existence, who is apprehensive either of torment or annihila- 
 tion ; of being miserable, or of not being at all. After having 
 mentioned these two great principles which are destructive of cheer- 
 fulness in their own nature as well as in right reason, I cannot think 
 of any other that ought to banish this happy temper from a virtuous 
 mind. Pain and sickness, shame and reproach, poverty and old age, 
 nay, death itself, considering the shortness of their duration and the 
 advantages we may reap from them, do not deserve the name of 
 evils ; a good man may bear up under them with fortitude, with con- 
 stancy, and with cheerfulness of heart. The tossing of a tempest 
 does not discompose him who is sure that it will bring him to a joy- 
 ful harbour. 
 
 " A man who uses his best endeavours to live according to the 
 dictates of virtue and right reason, has two perpetual sources of cheer- 
 fulness in the consideration of his own nature, and of that Being on 
 whom he has a dependence. If he looks into himself he cannot but 
 rejoice in that existence which is so lately bestowed upon him, and 
 which, after millions of ages, will still be new, and still in its begin- 
 ning. How many self-congratulations naturally rise in the mind, 
 when it reflects on its entrance into eternity, when it takes a view of 
 
 * G G 
 
226 
 
 CONSOLATION DERIVED BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 those improvable faculties which in a few years have made so con- 
 siderable a progress, and which will still be receiving an increase of 
 perfection, and consequently an increase of happiness ! The second 
 source of cheerfulness to a good mind, is the consideration that the 
 Being who bestows this happiness will continue it to all eternity." 
 
 After the arguments which have been advanced, there can be 
 little ground for doubting that the religion above described, and of 
 which the study and contemplation of nature form so essential a 
 part, has the power of enabling its votaries to derive support and 
 consolation under the very heaviest misfortunes ; such, and so un- 
 deniable, is the concurrent testimony which the writings of our sages 
 and most esteemed moralists afford. 
 
 Nevertheless, as it is allowed, on all hands, that example is more 
 powerful than precept; and as the author is of opinion that one 
 single fact, which can fairly be proved as the result of practice and 
 experience, alone is worth all the theory and assertion that ever were 
 penned ; and being, likewise, desirous of pointing out, for the benefit 
 of others, the peculiar advantages which, among so many, are unques- 
 tionably afforded, in cases especially of calamity and distress, by means 
 of those valuable resources which are derived from the love and study 
 of Nature, with a -view to that rational and contemplative enjoyment 
 of her works, and, in a still greater degree, from the copying of 
 them ; he will, in order to exhibit the matter in the most obvious 
 and striking point of view, venture, however reluctantly, to make 
 mention of circumstances which have reference to himself alone : 
 such being the only way, as he conceives, in which any satisfactory 
 example of the kind can be produced, since it is impossible for any 
 one to speak, at least with the smallest degree of certainty, especially 
 in a case of this nature, respecting the feelings and the disposition 
 of any other person than his own individual self 
 
 Very far, indeed, from agreeable to his feelings, and thorouglily 
 uninteresting to any one else, would it be, were the writer to enter 
 upon the history of himself, concerning which too much, perhaps, 
 has already been said. He will, therefore, in the mention of what is 
 
I 
 
FROM THE CONTEMPLATION OF NATURE. 
 
 227 
 
 about to be adduced in support of his argument, refrain from any 
 thing connected with it, beyond what his object requires. 
 
 Whether under similar circumstances, resources equally valuable 
 are to be obtained by other means, it would be little else than useless 
 to enquire, as any investigation of the kind must prove, at best, ex- 
 tremely vague and inconclusive, without, at the same time, offering 
 the least profitable end. 
 
 That the pleasures which poetry and the pursuits of literature 
 and science hold out are capable, in a very high degree, of alleviating 
 the cares and anxieties of life, and are therefore, on that account 
 alone, very justly entitled to our esteem, the biography of many 
 excellent and illustrious characters unquestionably proves. The 
 resources, indeed, which such pursuits, at all times, afford, have 
 ever been deservedly ranked among the most valuable enjoy- 
 ments of life ; notwithstanding which, it is very much to be 
 doubted whether even the refined and substantial gratifications 
 which these most valuable intellectual amusements are able to fur- 
 nish, have it in their power to excite, in any proportionable degree, 
 that delightful and almost unceasing enthusiasm described by 
 Madame de Stael, or to produce so entire, uninterrupted, and inde- 
 pendent an enjoyment — an enjoyment which is felt, whether at 
 home or abroad, within doors or without, in sickness as in health, — 
 as those which, under every circumstance of life, with scarcely an 
 exception, are experienced by the sincere and ardent votaries of 
 nature and taste. 
 
 Any enquiry, however, of the kind is of little importance, and 
 can have nothing to do with the object in view. It will be sufficient 
 for the present purpose, if it can be made to appear where, and in 
 what manner, resources so valuable are actually to be found. This 
 is the only question in which the writer is concerned, and he leaves 
 it for others to judge, whether the search after them is worthy of all 
 that attention and labour (if a pleasurable pursuit can be so termed) 
 which their acquisition demands, and without which they certainly 
 can in no wise be obtained. 
 
 G G 2 
 
228 CONSOLATION DERIVED BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Whatever may be the case, in regard to the feelings and opinions 
 of others, and however difficult it may be to form even a probable 
 conjecture respecting them, the author conceives that he may very 
 safely, and without fear of mistake, confidently pronounce upon the 
 sentiments and propensities which belong to himself ; as well as 
 upon the operation of that power of the mind by which, as experi- 
 ence has taught him, its emotions are governed and subdued ; and 
 in the due regulation of which our chief comfort and happiness 
 so entirely depend. Of this he feels perfectly sure. 
 
 Under this impression, therefore, it is, that he is now bold 
 enough, however extraordinary it may appear, to adduce himself as 
 an example, in proof of the efficacy of that remedy under affliction 
 he so earnestly recommends. 
 
 In order that a more just idea may be formed of the nature and 
 extent of the misfortune alluded to, and the present calamitous situa- 
 tion of the author, and from which, only, any decisive judgment can 
 be deduced as to the value and power of the aid which has been 
 applied, he will contrast with it the opposite character of that happi- 
 ness which it was previously his good fortune to enjoy. For, as 
 it is from comparison only that a true estimate can be made of what 
 constitutes either good or bad fortune, commonly so called, the 
 latter being, not unfrequently, with many persons, what by others 
 would be contemplated as directly the reverse, it ensues that no ' 
 man's loss can be fairly appreciated, until the value of that of which 
 he has been deprived is first ascertained. 
 
 Considering, then, the matter in this point of view, the writer 
 will, before adverting to the nature of his privation, endeavour to 
 draw a slight sicetch of some of the principal features which the more 
 agreeable side of the picture displays, from which the reader may be 
 able to form an opinion how far his is a calamity, which it requires 
 the very utmost fortitude and resignation to bear. 
 
 To have the current of life running at all times unruffled and 
 smooth, is what never yet happened to any person, however great his 
 prosperity or good fortune, and would, indeed, were that state possi- 
 
FROM THE CONTEMPLATION OF NATURE. 
 
 229 
 
 ble, prove, most assuredly, insipid enough ; " toujours perdrix *," we 
 all know, will very soon cloy ; and human life, to be happy, must be 
 varied, and necessarily made up of the bitter, as well as the sweets, of 
 its condition. 
 
 It is, therefore, wisely ordained, that the pleasures we expe- 
 rience should be tempered with an occasional mixture of pain, which 
 acting, in some measure, as a contrast, both heightens and im- 
 proves our enjoyments ; like the cloud which, towards sunset, we 
 have seen awhile dim the ether, when retired leaves it more bright 
 and serene. 
 
 First of all, then, the author can without the slightest hesitation 
 declare, that were fate to ordain that his former days should be 
 passed over again, there is scarcely a single alteration that he could 
 wish to be effected therein ; so uniformly tranquil, agreeable, and for- 
 tunate has been, till lately, his very enviable career. 
 
 Did it ever fall to the lot of human being to enjoy that singularly 
 rare and fortunate union, so emphatically described by Madame 
 de Stael, and which it requires the concurrence of so many favour- 
 able circumstances to produce, it was, assuredly, experienced by 
 himself 
 
 " If," says this writer, " there are in the universe two beings 
 united by a perfect sentiment of love, and should marriage have 
 bound them to each other, every day on their knees let them bless 
 the Supreme Being. Let them look down on the universe and its 
 greatness. Let them view with astonishment, let them cherish with 
 anxiety, a happiness which so many accidents must have concurred to 
 bestow ; a happiness which places them at such an infinite distance 
 from the rest of mankind." f Added to this, health, " an elegant 
 sufficiency," content, children, society, pictures, and a residence as 
 enviable as can well be conceived. Blessed, in short, on all sides and 
 in every imaginable way, while every wish was gratified, and every 
 comfort supplied, he had it in his power with equal truth and exult- 
 
 * " Partridges every day." f Madame de Stael. 
 
230 
 
 CONSOLATION DERIVED BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 ation to exclaim, in almost the very words of our interesting and 
 amiable poet, 
 
 " Had I the choice of sublunary good, 
 What would I wish that I possess not here ; 
 Friends, books, a garden, pencil, and a pen ; 
 Delightful industry enjoy'd at home. 
 And Nature in her cultivated trim, 
 Dress'd to my taste, inviting me abroad ; 
 Where I enjoyed, 
 
 With her who shared my pleasures and my heart. 
 
 Sweet converse." Cowper. 
 
 What, in heaven's name, could mortal wish for beside ? Such has 
 been one side of the picture. 
 
 How fine, how delicate, are the threads upon the strength and 
 perfection of which human happiness depends ! Without painting the 
 reverse, suffice it to say, that the cup of felicity has been dashed to 
 the ground, and where pleasure and enjoyment found residence, af- 
 ffliction and misfortune have taken their stand. It is but another 
 instance of the acknowledged instability of all human felicity ; to 
 complain were worse than useless ; the only question, therefore, re- 
 maining is, how to bear, with becoming fortitude, the melancholy 
 change. 
 
 This brings the author to the point he has had principally in 
 view in this singular " confession," and which is to assure the reader, 
 that there are no calamities, misfortunes, or afflictions that may not 
 be very greatly mitigated and supported by the help of the resources 
 in question ; in order to prove the truth of which, he does not 
 scruple to offer an example of the most undeniable kind ; the only 
 one, perhaps, which, in such a case, it can ever be in the power of 
 any person to produce ; viz. the example afforded in himself. 
 
 For he can, with the greatest truth, declare, that whatever may, 
 at any time, have been the acuteness of his feelings, under a trial so 
 severe, and " he hath that within that passeth show ;" let him have 
 been ever so miserable, it has invariably been found that the aspect 
 of nature, with green trees, a fine sky, and a smiling landscape 
 
FROM THE CONTEMPLATION OF NATURE. 
 
 231 
 
 around ; or, what amounts nearly to the very same thing, the contem- 
 plation of one of those beautiful, sublime, and enchanting Wilsons 
 (never to be sufficiently admired) which it is his good fortune to 
 possess ; in no one instance have objects such as these, which the 
 oftener they are observed the more will their beauties be felt, ever 
 failed, by their magical influence, almost instantaneously to mitigate 
 his sorrow, to soothe his depressed spirits, and to tranquillise his 
 mind. At all times, indeed, and on every occasion, he has uni- 
 formly experienced, that 
 
 " Nature, divinely drest 
 In rich attire, 
 
 Wakes, with her music, in the breast 
 
 A softer glow, 
 
 And makes the soul respire 
 
 A purer bliss than all below." * 
 
 That this is no exaggeration the reader may rest assured ; it is an 
 advantage to be experienced by all who, with the aid of study and ade- 
 quate cultivation, are possessed of the means whereby its acquaintance 
 is made. One essential benefit arising from this resource, always 
 within reach, and continually at hand, is, that the tranquillising effect 
 it produces is not merely momentary, and such as only occasionally 
 occurs. The consoling influence here spoken of is, on the contrary, 
 uniform, and felt every day, Such, indeed, and so effective has the 
 author found to be its assuasive and sovereign power, that he is con- 
 vinced when once it is thoroughly established in the mind, there is 
 nothing, however oppressive or disheartening, which is able either 
 to subdue it or to drive it away. Other resources and other pallia- 
 tives, doubtless, there may be, and which, at times, and under favour- 
 able circumstances, may prove efficacious enough ; but where, let it 
 be asked, shall we find a ready, never-failing balm, and an alleviation 
 like this ? The resources, in fine, and enjoyments, which the study 
 and contemplation of nature afford, are proof against every attack. 
 
 * Blackwood's Magazine, April, 1821. 
 
232 
 
 HAPPINESS OF THE LANDSCAPE PAINTER. 
 
 and defy the utmost disasters (loss of eyesight, perhaps, only ex- 
 cepted) which misfortune can bring in her train. 
 
 " I care not, Fortune, what you me deny : 
 
 You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace ; 
 You cannot shut the windows of the sky, 
 
 Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; 
 You cannot bar my constant feet to trace 
 The woods and lawns, by living streams, at eve." 
 
 Castle of Indolence. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no one single occupation or employment 
 which is so thoroughly independent of weather and seasons, or which 
 is capable of affording such real enjoyment within doors, as the pur- 
 suit under consideration. Though thousands will disbelieve it, it is 
 no less matter of fact, that the delight which the lover of nature ex- 
 periences in the prospect o fluxuriant woods and smiling fields, infi- 
 nitely exceeds any which can be felt by him who contemplates them 
 with no other gratification than what arises from the reflection, witli 
 many the only agreeable reflection belonging to the sight of them, 
 that they are his own property ; even though there be added to it the 
 fond and sanguine anticipation of those gains which their fertility 
 seems likely to ensure to their happy possessor. Rain or storms, 
 frost or snow, affect not the man whose imagination luxuriates amid 
 verdant lawns and summer suns, and who, placed before the land- 
 scape which himself has created, enjoys a far greater pleasure in his 
 imitation than others experience from the reality. Had our poet 
 obtained his wish of being the philosopher he describes, he could 
 never have been one half so happy as the landscape painter. 
 
 " We are rational," says Cowper, in one of his letters, " but we 
 are animal too, and, therefore, subject to the influences of the weather. 
 Upon this account I have sometimes wished myself a philosopher. 
 How happy, in comparison with myself, does the sagacious investiga- 
 tor of nature seem, whose fancy is ever employed in the invention of 
 hypotheses^ and his reason in the support of them ! While he is 
 accounting for the origin of the winds, he has no leisure to attend to 
 
Under the Siipermtendancc of t)ie Society for tht DifLusion. of Useful IfemTledg-e 
 
NO HAPPINESS WITHOUT TRANQUILLITY. 
 
 233 
 
 their influence upon himself ; and while he considers what the sun 
 is made of, forgets that he has not shone for a month. One project, 
 indeed, supplants another. The vortices of Descartes gave way to the 
 gravitation of Newton, and this again is threatened by the electrical 
 fluid of a modern. One generation blows bubbles, and the next 
 breaks them. But in the mean time your philosopher is a happy 
 man. He escapes a thousand inquietudes to which the indolent are 
 subject, and finds his occupation, whether it be the pursuit of a 
 butterfly or a demonstration, the wholesomest exercise in the world. 
 As he proceeds, he applauds himself. His discoveries, though 
 eventually, perhaps, they prove but dreams, are to him realities. 
 The world gaze at him, as he does at a new phenomenon in the 
 heavens, and, perhaps, understand him as little. But this does not 
 prevent their praises, nor at all disturb him in the enjoyment of that 
 self-complacence, to which his imaginary success entitles him. He 
 wears his honours while he lives, and if another strips them off when 
 he has been dead a century, it is no great matter; he can then make 
 shift without them."* 
 
 What eulogium, then, may it be asked, can appear too great, or 
 how is it possible to speak in sufficiently high terms of a pursuit which 
 is capable of producing effects so enviable and so inestimable ; or, 
 in the comparison of which, what is there that this world, witli all its 
 boasted allurements, can possibly afford ? Riches, honours, fame, 
 whatever advantages in themselves they may be thought to possess, 
 will be found of little worth, so long as their owners feel the want of 
 that necessary and invaluable sweetener of them all, tranquillity of 
 mind ; in the absence of which, neither relish or enjoyment, under 
 any circumstances, however prosperous or favourable, can ever be 
 found. Deprived of that, it matters not whether a man be in youth 
 or in age, at home or abroad, in the country or in town ; his tnitid 
 remains invariably the same; and upon it only, after all, must the 
 chief of his happiness depend. 
 
 * Hayley's Life of Cowper. 
 H H 
 
234 
 
 CONTEMPLATION OF NATURE RECOMMENDED. 
 
 " Ccelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt."* Hohace. 
 
 They may go where they will, it is ever and in all situations 
 the same ; and in vain will that be sought for without, which the 
 wanderer feels not himself possessed of within. 
 
 Whereas, to him who, by an attentive study and cultivation of 
 the pursuits under consideration, has acquired the power of creating 
 at all times, and upon every occasion, resources thus productive of 
 amusement, of consolation, and relief, and who feels within his 
 own mind their delightful and animating effects, it matters not where, 
 or under what circumstances, how adverse soever, he may be placed ; 
 he feels confidently assured he shall experience the countenance and 
 favour of the mistress he adores. 
 
 " Pone me, pigris ubi nulla campis 
 Arbor sestiva recreatur aura ; 
 Quod latus mundi nebulae, malusque 
 Jupiter urget : 
 
 " Pone sub curru nimium propinqui 
 Solis, in terrfi domibus negata; 
 Dulce ridentem Lalagen amabo, 
 
 Dulce loquentem."f Horace. 
 
 Again, then, let me recommend to every one who is in quest of 
 a substantial, independent, and never-failing resource under every 
 circumstance of life, (to the young, in a more especial manner, I would 
 address myself,) to cultivate a serious attention to an admonition, at 
 
 * " They that beyond sea go will sadly find 
 
 They change their climate, not their mind." Creech. 
 
 f " Place me where never summer breeze 
 Unbinds the glebe, or warms the trees ; 
 Where ever low'ring clouds appear, 
 And angry Jove deforms th' inclement year: 
 
 " Place me beneath the burning ray, 
 Where rolls the rapid car of day ; 
 Love and the nymph shall charm my toils, 
 
 The nymph who sweetly speaks and sweetly smiles." Francis. 
 
ANECDOTE OF THE DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH. 
 
 235 
 
 once the most profitable and momentous that ever was penned : — 
 Contemplate, study, and " remember, now," the sublime and beau- 
 tiful works of thy " Creator, in the days of thy youth, that the evil 
 days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when thou shalt say, I have 
 no pleasure in them." 
 
 Though the reflections naturally suggested by the mention of 
 the foregoing circumstances have been of a very serious nature, and 
 sufficient, it might be thought, to molest the even tenor of his way, 
 the author is, nevertheless, prepared to go cheerfully on. Life is a 
 journey that must, whether we like it or not, be performed by us 
 all ; and belonging to which there are many offices and duties de- 
 manding our attention and care, let us be travelling either along the 
 smooth or the rough part of the way. There is, in fact, no standing 
 still in the progress we are making to the grave, and we are com- 
 pelled to go on, happen what may. Fortunate, indeed, for him will it 
 be, who can, at the end of it, look back with the satisfaction of find- 
 ing those duties and those offices fulfilled. 
 
 When Colonel Binfield was shot by the side of the Duke of 
 Marlborough, it is reported that the Duke stopped and dropped a 
 tear over him, wiien, after some pause, turning to those about him, 
 he said, " But, gentlemen, we must go forward." And so, courteous 
 reader, must we. 
 
 Among the various writers who have made the fine arts the 
 object of their enquiry, no one seems to have felt in a greater de- 
 gree the importance of their cultivation, or to have been more alive 
 to the pleasure and advantages to be derived from them, than the 
 well-known Richardson. The excellent remarks contained in his 
 work, and the arguments which he uses in proof of the utility and 
 value of pictures, are conveyed with so much judgment and ani- 
 mation, and are known to have had so powerful an effect, that the sub- 
 ject cannot, perhaps, be introduced in a better or more appropriate 
 manner, than by laying before the reader a few of that author's 
 sentiments. 
 
 It was, we are told, the perusal of Richardson's Essay on the 
 
 H H 2 
 
236 
 
 PLEASURE AND ADVANTAGES TO BE DERIVED 
 
 Theory of Painting, that " excited the first fondness for his art in 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds*," and which " so inflamed his mind, that 
 Raffaelle appeared to him superior to the most illustrious names of 
 antiquity or modern times ; a notion," says his biographer, " which 
 he loved to indulge all the rest of his life." f 
 
 " Because pictures," observes the author referred to, " are 
 universally delightful, and accordingly made one part of our orna- 
 mental furniture, many, I believe, consider the art of painting but as 
 a pleasing superfluity ; at best, that it holds but a low rank with 
 respect to its usefulness to mankind. 
 
 " If there was, in reality, no more in it than an innocent amuse- 
 ment; if it were only one of those sweets that the Divine Providence 
 has bestowed on us, to render the good of our present being superior 
 to the evil of it ; or whether it be or no, to render life somewhat 
 more eligible, it ought to be considered as a bounty from Heaven, 
 and to hold a place in our esteem accordingly. Pleasure, however it 
 be depreciated, is what we all eagerly and incessantly pursue ; and 
 when innocent, and consequently a divine benefaction, is to be con- 
 sidered in that view, and as an ingredient in human life which the 
 supreme wisdom has judged necessary. 
 
 " Painting is that pleasant, innocent amusement, and as such it 
 holds its place among our enjoyments. But it is more, it is of great 
 use, as being one of the means whereby we convey our ideas to each 
 other, and which, in some respects, has the advantage of all the rest. 
 And thus it must be ranked with these, and accordingly esteemed 
 not only as an enjoyment, but as another language, which completes 
 the whole art of communicating our thouglits ; one of those par- 
 ticulars which raises the dignity of human nature so much above the 
 brutes, and which is the more considerable, as being a gift bestowed 
 but upon a few even of our own species. 
 
 " The pleasure that painting, as a dumb art, gives us, is like what 
 we have from music ; its beautiful forms, colours, and harmony, are 
 
 * Johnson's Life of Cowley. 
 
 f Malone's Life of Reynolds. 
 
FROM THE STUDY OF PAINTING. 
 
 237 
 
 to the eye, what sounds and the harmony of that kind are to the 
 ear ; and in both we are delighted in observing the skill of the artist, 
 in proportion to it, and our own judgment to discover it. It is this 
 beauty and harmony which gives so much pleasure at the sight of 
 natural pictures, a prospect, a fine sky, a garden, &c., and the copies 
 of these, which renew the ideas of them, are consequently pleasant: 
 thus, we see spring, summer, and autumn, in the depth of winter ; 
 and frost and snow, if we please, when the dog-star rages. Nor do 
 we barely see this variety of natural objects, but in good pictures we 
 always see nature improved, or, at least, the best choice of it. We 
 have thus nobler and finer ideas of men, animals, landscapes, &c. 
 than we should, perhaps, have ever had. We see particular acci- 
 dents and beauties which are rarely or never seen by us ; and this is 
 no inconsiderable addition to the pleasure. 
 
 " I will add one article more in praise of this noble, delightful, 
 and useful art, and that is this : the treasure of a nation consists 
 in the pure productions of nature, or those managed or put toge- 
 ther and improved by art : now, there is no artificer whatsoever that 
 produces so valuable a thing from such inconsiderable materials of 
 nature's furnishing as the painter ; putting the time (for that also 
 must be considered as one of those materials) into the account, it is 
 next to creation. This nation is many thousands of pounds the richer 
 for Van Dyck's hand, and which is as current money as gold in most 
 parts of Europe, and this with an inconsiderable expense of the pro- 
 dutions of nature : what a treasure, then, have all the great masters 
 here and elsewhere given to the world ! 
 
 " How great a variety soever there may be in men's tastes of 
 pleasure, and what unhappy mixtures soever they may make, this 
 will be generally allowed to be delightful. And there is one par- 
 ticular which I will remark, because I believe it is not commonly 
 taken notice of, and this is the vast advantage the sight has above 
 the other senses Vv ith respect to pleasure. Those receive it, but it is 
 by starts and flashes, with long insipid intervals, and frequently 
 worse; but the pleasures of the eye are like those of heaven, perpe- 
 
238 
 
 PLEASURE AND ADVANTAGES TO BE DERIVED 
 
 tual, and without satiety ; and if offensive objects appear, we can reject 
 them in a moment." * 
 
 The subject being one that the writer has much at heart, he 
 will venture to introduce some additional remarks which have struck 
 him as being worthy of notice, and which, like the preceding, are 
 borrowed from the works of others. 
 
 There are, indeed, many excellent authors who have expressed 
 their sentiments upon this particular, and not a few who have 
 devoted very considerable time and labour in their endeavours to 
 point out the pleasure and advantages to be derived from the study 
 of the fine arts. 
 
 Considering that such valuable observations are not unfre- 
 quently interspersed among matter relating to other topics, and do 
 not, therefore, so readily present themselves, some little service may, 
 perhaps, be done to the cause, by bringing a few of them into a nar- 
 rower compass for the reader's assistance ; especially as the author 
 would lament that any argument should be omitted, which might, in 
 the slightest degree, contribute to exhibit the subject in the clearest 
 and most advantageous light. 
 
 As the opinions about to be offered have been expressed by men 
 of experience and known celebrity, they cannot fail to carry with 
 them a far greater degree of weight than any which the writer could, 
 of himself, advance ; he prefers, therefore, rather risking the imput- 
 ation of being thought over-liberal in quotations, than forego ad- 
 vantages so signal, and will, accordingly, without further apology, 
 produce them. 
 
 " It is agreed on all hands," observes Mr. Hume, " that a deli- 
 cate and refined taste must always be a desirable quality, because 
 it is the source of all the finest and most innocent enjoyments of 
 which human nature is susceptible. In this decision the sentiments 
 of all mankind are agreed. Whenever you can ascertain a delicacy 
 of taste it is sure to meet with approbation." f 
 
 * Richardson's Theory of Painting. 
 
 f Hume's Essays. 
 
FROM THE STUDY OF PAINTING. 
 
 239 
 
 " A man of polite imagination," the author of the Spectator 
 very justly remarks, " is let into a great many pleasures that the 
 vulgar are not capable of receiving. He can converse with a picture, 
 and find an agreeable companion in a statue ; he meets with a secret 
 refreshment in a description, and often feels a greater satisfaction in 
 the prospect of fields and meadows than another does in the pos- 
 session of them ; it gives him a kind of property in every thing he 
 sees, and makes the most rude and uncultivated parts of nature ad- 
 minister to his pleasures, so that he looks on the world, as it were, in 
 another light, and discovers in it a multitude of charms that conceal 
 themselves from the rest of mankind."* 
 
 " This sensibility to the pleasures of imagination, when judi- 
 ciously managed, adds much to the happiness of life, and it must be 
 particularly advantageous to those who, by their stations in society, 
 are precluded from the necessity of manual labour. Mental exertions 
 and mental amusements are essential to those persons in the higher 
 ranks of society, who wish to escape from the fever of dissipation or 
 the lethargy of ennui /" f 
 
 " The dissipated, the needy, and the industrious, are apt to 
 imagine that the idle and the rich are the chosen favourites of hea- 
 ven, and that they alone possess what all mankind are equally anx- 
 ious to attain ; but supposing always a decent competency, the 
 genuine source of happiness is virtuous employment, pursued with 
 ardour, and regulated by our own choice." :j: 
 
 " The more our ideas are increased, or our conceptions extended 
 upon any subject, and the greater the number of associations we 
 connect with it, the stronger is the emotion of sublimity or beauty 
 we receive from it. The pleasure, for instance, which the generality 
 of mankind receive from any celebrated painting is trifling when 
 compared to that which a painter feels if he is a man of a common 
 degree of candour. What is to them only an accurate representation 
 of nature, is to him a beautiful exertion of genius, and a perfect 
 
 * Addison. f Dagley's Compendium. % Malone's Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
240 
 
 PLEASURE AND ADVANTAGES TO BE DERIVED 
 
 display of art. The difficulties which occur to his mind in the 
 design and execution of such a performance, and the testimonies of 
 skill, of taste, and of invention, which the accomplishment of it 
 exhibit, excite a variety of emotions in his breast of which the 
 common spectator is altogether unsusceptible; and the admir- 
 ation with which he thus contemplates the genius and art of the 
 painter, blends itself with the peculiar emotions which the picture 
 itself can produce, and enhances to him every beauty that it may 
 possess. 
 
 " The beauty of any scene in nature is seldom so striking to 
 others as it is to a landscape painter. The difficulties both of in- 
 vention and execution, which, from his profession, are familiar to 
 him, render the profusion with which nature often scatters the most 
 picturesque beauties little less than miraculous. Every little circum- 
 stance of form, and perspective, and light, and shade, which are 
 unnoticed by a common eye, are important in his, and mingling in 
 his mind ideas of difficulty and facility in overcoming it, produce alto- 
 gether an emotion of delight, incomparably more animated than any 
 that the generality of mankind usually derive from it." * 
 
 That the study recommended affiDrds not only pleasure^ but 
 that it is 
 
 " Friendly to the best pursuits of man, 
 Friendly to thought, to virtue, and to peace," Cowper. 
 
 and is advantageous in every point of view, the writer proceeds to 
 show from authority equally undoubted. 
 
 " In recommending the knowledge and practice of painting, it 
 may be observed," says a late writer, " that upon the general theatre 
 of life few can stand conspicuous ; to impart interest, therefore, to 
 objects and incidents within our reach, to every-day occurrences, is 
 an acquisition well worth our pains ; since years are often spent in 
 acquiring wealth which eventually cannot be enjoyed for want of 
 
 * Alison on Taste. 
 
FROM THE STUDY OF PAINTING. 
 
 241 
 
 those stores of the mind that should have been laid up in youth, as 
 the best solace of declining years. 
 
 " For, without being a poet or an orator, a man may have a suf- 
 ficient degree of imagination to receive pleasure from the labour of 
 others ; he may be a critical judge of the respective merits of orators, 
 poets, and artists. 
 
 " It has been a subject of deep and continued regret to many in 
 an advanced period of life, that drawing had not formed a part of 
 their education ; the most moderate power of making a sketch from 
 nature would have been a valuable attainment, when leisure and op- 
 portunity threw them upon scenes they could but half enjoy, or in 
 company where they could not join in the pleasures derived from 
 conversation on works of art." * 
 
 The arts have not only an influence on our manners, but also on 
 our passions, and, taken in a national point of view, are highly useful. 
 The pictures representing gallant actions, or noble achievements, 
 rouse and stimulate to acts of heroism and public spirit ; while those 
 of a more elegant turn exhibit examples of graceful address, and 
 incline the mind to acts of beneficence and virtue. 
 
 Drawing is not only an accomplishment the most elegant, 
 agreeable, and ornamental, but, at the same time that it is the found- 
 ation of painting, is of the utmost utility to the sculptor, the civil and 
 naval architect, the engraver, the engineer, the mathematician, and 
 navigator. To it we are indebted for representations of those elegant 
 remains of antiquity that have contributed so much to the advance- 
 ment of our knowledge of fine form. Volumes of verbal description 
 will never convey so true an idea of a thing, as the most slight sketch. 
 
 To be able on the spot to make a sketch of a fine building, beau- 
 tiful prospect, or any curious production of nature or of art, is not 
 only a very desirable and elegant accomplishment, but in the highest 
 degree entertaining. To treasure up whatever may occur in our travels, 
 either for future use or to illustrate conversation ; to represent the 
 
 * Dagley's Compendium. 
 I I 
 
242 
 
 PLEASURE AND ADVANTAGES TO BE DERIVED 
 
 deeds of the great of former ages, and to preserve the features of our 
 most valued friends, has made this art not only one of the highest em- 
 belhshments of our nature, but the dehght of all ages. The greatest 
 writers have united to praise, and empires to encourage it. It has been, 
 in the highest degree, morally useful ; and, where it has flourished, 
 conferred honour on the country. In fact, society could not sustain 
 a more severe loss than in being deprived of it, as many comforts 
 and all those elegancies that adorn the present state of our being, 
 must depart with it. 
 
 Independently of keeping the mind employed, the arts con- 
 tribute to harmonise the temper ; and the power of drawing brings 
 with it so much mental enjoyment, that youth, in order to be occu- 
 pied, is not tempted to precipitate itself into the ruinous and de- 
 structive vices of gaming and drinking. It defends us in the meridian 
 of life from the wild schemes of ambition, and in old age it becomes 
 a sure shield against avarice. Shenstone observes, " Wherever there 
 is a want of taste, we generally observe a love of money, and cunning." 
 
 We must not rank it among the least of the advantages resulting 
 from the practice of the arts, that it inures the reflecting mind to the 
 most enticing sort of logic, and opens the faculties more than years 
 devoted to the acquiring of languages or the mere learning of words ; 
 it teaches to think. Besides, while the mind is engaged in obtaining 
 knowledge, we escape the insipidity and indifference connected with 
 the tediousness of inactivity. Hope attends labour; a blessing 
 unknown to those who live lazily on the toil of others. The sensual- 
 ist imagines he enjoys the world, because he eats, and drinks, and runs 
 about upon it ; but to enjoy it truly, is to be sensible of its greatness 
 and beauty. 
 
 " Wisdom is the parent of taste and virtue : the offspring of taste 
 is pleasure ; of virtue, happiness. A man without taste may be said 
 to be without piety, as, by not feeling, he is incapable of offering 
 that praise which results from an admiration of the beauties of the 
 creation ; he has a natural disrelish for what is good ; he becomes the 
 enemy of all the world ; he feels not for a relative, a friend, or society ; 
 
FROM THE STUDY OF PAINTING. 
 
 243 
 
 the law of the land is his gospel, and his attorney regulates his con- 
 science ; he lives without hope, and dies without pity. * 
 
 Were the writer not apprehensive of being thought tedious, 
 he could produce many other passages, from authors of experience, in 
 support of the excellency of, and the advantages to be derived from, 
 this rational pursuit. He will, however, finish these quotations with 
 the observation of one who was fully competent to judge of such 
 matters. 
 
 " I am well persuaded," says Lord Shaftesbury, " that to be a 
 virtuoso, (so far as befits a gentleman,) is a higher step towards be- 
 coming a man of virtue and good sense, than the being what, in this 
 age, we call a scholar." 
 
 Such are the sentiments of some of our most able moralists and 
 very soundest philosophers respecting a study which, from a full 
 conviction of its utility to society, the writer has wished to bring into 
 that notice which, hitherto, it has failed to obtain. 
 
 The pleasures which it holds out, and the means by which they 
 may be experienced, he has, to the best of his ability, and he is willing 
 to hope not altogether unsuccessfully, endeavoured to point out. 
 He also trusts that sufficient evidence has not been wanting to prove, 
 that the chief of these advantages, great and extensive as we must 
 confess them to be, are open to every one who will be at the pains 
 requisite for acquiring them, and without which, it is totally impossi- 
 ble that they can ever be enjoyed. 
 
 " What we admire, we praise; and when we praise, 
 Advance it into notice, that its worth 
 Acknowledged, others may admire it too. 
 My charmer is not mine alone ; my sweets, 
 And she that sweetens all my bitters too. 
 Nature, enchanting Nature, in whose form 
 And lineaments divine I trace a hand 
 That errs not, and find raptures still renew'd, 
 
 Is free to all men — universal prize." Cowper. 
 
 * Daye's Works. 
 
 I I 2 
 
244 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 AMUSEMENT EXPERIENCED WHILE STUDYING IN THE PUBLIC PICTURE-GALLERIES ABROAD. 
 
 HUGH ELLIOT, ESQ. THE THREE GRACES. BRITISH MINISTERS RESIDENT AT 
 
 FOREIGN COURTS. LORD HENLEY. TWEDDEL's REMAINS. DUTY OF A BIOGRAPHER. 
 
 VIENNA. ANECDOTE OF A GERMAN NOBLEMAN. — PICTURE-DEALERS. PRINCE DE 
 
 EIGNE. MASJJUERADES. RIVER DANUBE. — GENERAL SUWARROW. ENGLISHMEN 
 
 TRAVELLING ON THE CONTINENT. 
 
 It is scarcely possible, perhaps, for any one who has not experienced 
 it, to form an adequate idea of the amusement derived from studying 
 in one of the large and well-filled picture-galleries abroad. Various 
 circumstances contribute to this enjoyment ; for besides the contem- 
 plation of the exquisite works of art contained in them, many other 
 sources of entertainment will be found. In these resorts of com- 
 pany are often to be met with the most accomplished artists or 
 amateurs, possessing abilities of a very rare and superior kind, 
 and whose conversation is generally no less agreeable than in- 
 structive. But this is not all ; for amid the vast concourse of 
 spectators who, during the summer months, come to visit these 
 magnificent receptacles of art, numbers of the fair sex are con- 
 tinually to be seen. These ladies, as they pass through the rooms, 
 naturally approach the easels of the different painters engaged in 
 copying such pictures as have been taken down for their accom- 
 modation, and which are, not unfrequently, among the choicest in the 
 place J and, such is the freedom of polished society abroad, that any 
 further introduction is seldom required. As the services of one who 
 is of course supposed to be well acquainted with the objects of con- 
 templation around, are rarely found an unacceptable offer, the author 
 has, in thus exercising the office of cicerone, often spent an occasional 
 hour or two of leisure and relaxation, in a manner, of all others, the 
 most delightful. The variety and noveltv of the observations made 
 
THE THREE GRACES. 
 
 245 
 
 every now and then on these occasions, contributed to render such a 
 pastime a very interesting and agreeable lounge. 
 
 Happening one day to be so engaged in the gallery at Dresden, 
 in company with Mr. Elliot, our then resident minister at the court 
 of Saxony, a gentleman possessing a singular talent for wit and 
 happy repartee, we came near the easel of a young foreign practi- 
 tioner, a smart, pert-looking disciple of the brush, who was copying a 
 fine picture of the Italian school, the subject of which was the 
 Three Graces. Nothing could be much more wretched than the 
 presumptuous attempt which this genius had made; bad drawing, 
 and worse colouring, with no one pretension to any thing good. 
 After looking attentively at the young man's performance for a few 
 seconds, Mr. Elliot turned to me with a significant look, and uttered, 
 in the readiest manner imaginable, the following lines : — 
 
 " Three graceless Graces 
 Did their graces hide, 
 
 Two show'd their 
 
 And the third her side :" 
 
 thus giving the attitude and appearance of these beauties with the 
 greatest possible truth. 
 
 Having been led to the mention of this gentleman, the author 
 cannot omit the opportunity afforded him of bearing testimony to 
 the polite and friendly attentions shown by Mr. Elliot to his coun- 
 trymen travelling abroad, and the hospitality they experienced in his 
 sumptuous hotel. 
 
 Having observed, with sentiments of real indignation, in a work 
 printed not many years ago, some observations respecting this gen- 
 tleman, as illiberal as they are unfounded, the writer would think 
 himself extremely wanting, as well as very ungrateful for the many 
 favours received, were he to omit taking advantage of the present 
 occasion, in doing an act of justice to a character so totally unde- 
 serving of any thing of the kind. 
 
 This refers to part of a volume (which, from its excellence and 
 the reputation of the author, can never be forgotten,) entitled " Twed- 
 
246 
 
 LORD HENLEY.— HUGH ELLIOT, ESQ. 
 
 del's Remains," in which it has not been scrupled to bring before the 
 pubhc, as a part of the private correspondence of the deceased, re- 
 marks in a very high degree injurious to the reputation of two 
 worthy and irreproachable individuals. 
 
 For besides the observations alluded to respecting Mr. Elliot, 
 (against which, as a confidential communication, and in which Hght 
 it was intended to have been received, little need be thought,) there 
 will be found, in the very same page, an equally unworthy attempt 
 to hold up to derision another gentleman no less exalted and respect- 
 able ; I mean our envoy-extraordinary resident at that time at the 
 court of Vienna, Sir Morton Eden, Bart, the present Lord Henley, 
 than whom a more polite, friendly, and, at the same time, hospitable 
 minister, no capital in Europe could contain. 
 
 That the bitter reflections on the characters of these ministers had 
 been excited by some sudden fit of spleen, acting upon a highly nervous 
 and irritable frame, there cannot be a doubt, since the writer of them 
 was well known to have possessed a most excellent heart ; but that 
 any one should so mistake the duty of that office whicli liberal bio- 
 graphy demands, as to introduce into his work a paragraph so 
 extremely prejudicial to the parties concerned — men in exalted 
 situations, and who were still living, seems past comprehension, and 
 which it would almost appear had no other purpose in view than 
 that of exciting, against two most valuable characters, the contempt 
 and derision of the world. 
 
 It is hoped that the warmth of the author's feelings upon an 
 occasion like this will be excused, actuated as he is by that sentiment 
 alone, which a sense of justice demands, towards the slandered repu- 
 tation of two gentlemen, with whom it was his good fortune to be 
 well acquainted, and for whose services, performed in very difficult 
 times, and, not unfrequently, under circumstances the most arduous, 
 far removed from their homes, their country, and their friends, the 
 public stand indebted in a very eminent degree. 
 
 Having spent more than the whole of two winters at Vienna, 
 and nearly as great a length of time at Dresden ; and being uncon- 
 
TWEDDEL'S REMAINS. 
 
 247 
 
 nected, in the very remotest degree, with the administration, either 
 at home or abroad, or with any one holding an official situation, the 
 author may, he thinks, be entitled to some degree of credence in 
 what has been said. 
 
 Taking it, however, even for granted, that the lamented Mr. 
 Tweddel was so unfortunate as not to meet with that attention 
 which he might have expected, still does it follow that, gentlemen, 
 officiating in a high and important function of the state, the very 
 representatives of majesty, — does it follow that characters so ex- 
 alted are to be exposed to the mire of every disappointed and mor- 
 tified itinerant on the road ? Let us but look for a moment at the 
 situation in which such persons are placed, and consider how totally 
 impossible it must be that any traveller, however distinguished his 
 fortune or his abilities, can reasonably expect to be noticed by a 
 minister abroad, unless a proper introduction has been received, 
 and. which there is no intention to insinuate Mr. Tweddel was with- 
 out. The opportunities, indeed, which these gentlemen possess, of 
 distinguishing the claims of each individual as he happens to arrive, 
 are, to compare small things with great, little different from those of 
 the landlord of an inn. How very absurd, for instance, and how 
 altogether unfair would it be, for the traveller who rattles in a noisy 
 hack-chaise, to complain because he had not experienced the like cere- 
 monious attentions with him who comes rolling along in his own car- 
 riage and four ? In the one case, the outward appearance alone is the 
 sole criterion upon which the inn-keeper can with safety rely ; so, in 
 the other, letters of introduction, from quarters of respectability, 
 furnish the only guide by which a minister can be governed in 
 showing that courtesy and protection which he may feel it either his 
 duty or his inclination to bestow. 
 
 The author has been led into these remarks principally from 
 the circumstance of his having repeatedly heard very unfair and ill- 
 judged complaints against our ministers resident abroad j which, 
 although they may be little worthy of being regarded by them, are 
 
248 
 
 DUTY OF A BIOGRAPHER. 
 
 often detrimental to other travellers, and, in most instances, are 
 excited by private pique only, or disappointment. 
 
 Though the author was not so fortunate as to have been 
 acquainted with the late Mr. Tweddel, he followed him much too 
 closely into Trinity College, and different parts of Germany, to be 
 ignorant of his amiable and kind-hearted disposition. What, may 
 it then be asked, would he have thought of an exposure of remarks, 
 as injurious to his own reputation as they are uncharitable to the 
 feelings of the individuals against whom they have been so unfairly 
 produced ? 
 
 " I consider," says a distinguished biographer, " an editor as 
 guilty of the basest injury to the dead, who admits into the post- 
 humous volumes of an author, whom he professes to love and 
 admire, any composition which his own conscience informs him 
 that author, if he could speak from the tomb, would direct him to 
 suppress." * 
 
 Before dismissing this unpleasant subject, the writer cannot 
 refrain from observing, that the attempt " to offer some qualifi- 
 cation of the sentiments expressed in letter 17, of the correspondence 
 on the subject of diplomacy," appears very far from being any thing 
 that may at all be considered as a vindication for so strange a pro- 
 ceeding. 
 
 He is, at the same time, truly sorry in being compelled to speak 
 thus harshly of one who, for any thing he knows to the contrary, 
 may have had no ill intention in view ; but, let it be remembered, 
 these gentlemen were the author's friends ; they have been grossly 
 misrepresented, and he, therefore, does not hesitate to stand forward 
 in their behalf, however feeble or ineffectual this attempt at their 
 vindication may prove. 
 
 As it may, not unlikely, be imagined, that in thus advocating 
 their cause the writer is influenced by other motives than those of 
 mere justice and disinterested regard, towards the reputation of 
 
 * Hayley's Life of Cowper. 
 
ANECDOTE OF A GERMAN NOBLEMAN. 
 
 249 
 
 these gentlemen, he will barely state that, subsequently to the period 
 alluded to, and which is now nearly five and twenty years ago, one 
 of them he has, literally, seen but once, and the other he has not 
 been so fortunate as ever to have met with since ; and that, moreover, 
 he is unconnected, in any way, with either of them ; notwithstanding 
 which, he must ever retain towards them both the very warmest 
 sentiments of esteem. 
 
 That the very satirical observations alluded to were written in 
 confidence, and never intended to pass beyond the bounds of private 
 communication, may be clearly inferred from the concluding passage 
 of the very epistle in which they were penned. The late Mr. Twed- 
 del finishes in these words ; viz. " What a letter have I penned ! — full 
 of all kinds of unimportant matters, unconnected together ! When 
 I once begin to write to you^ I go on as if I was talking. I have 
 not time to read over again this long collection of nonsense ; there- 
 fore excuse what I have written, calamo currente, for it must be full 
 of mistakes and un'mteUigibilitiesy 
 
 The author will add, that that part of the volume in question, 
 " Tweddel's Remains," is a valuable and interesting work. 
 
 The mention of Vienna recalls to the author's memory an 
 anecdote respecting a nobleman with whom he was acquainted in 
 that capital, some years ago, whose fondness for pictures was carried 
 to an extraordinary excess, and in the amassing of which the pro- 
 prietor had spent not only the greater part of his life, but, unfor- 
 tunately, almost the whole of his estate also. The mind, indeed, of 
 this gentleman appears to have been, at all times, so completely 
 wrapped up in these objects of his delight, as to have scarcely al- 
 lowed opportunity for the consideration of any thing besides. 
 
 It must be premised that the individual alluded to, the Count 
 
 T , being the younger son of a noble family, had been destined 
 
 for the holy office, of which he was created a canon, a situation of 
 considerable eminence among the clergy of Vienna. 
 
 One day, upon an occasion of peculiar solemnity, when offici- 
 ating at the high altar, in the celebration of mass, and at that parti- 
 
 K K 
 
250 
 
 ANECDOTE OF A GERMAN NOBLEMAN. 
 
 cular moment of intense silence and attention when all around are 
 under the impression of the greatest awe, it so happened that while 
 in the act, with uplifted eyes and suppliant hands, of raising the 
 host, he accidently espied before him a picture-cleaner, with whom 
 had been left one of his paintings for repair ; and totally forgetting 
 the situation and the character he was in, he suddenly exclaimed, to 
 the astonishment of his pious and prostrate congregation, " Coquin ! 
 ou est mon Rembrandt ?" * 
 
 Many other stories were current respecting this singular charac- 
 ter, such as his having at one time, when intently engaged in clean- 
 ing a picture, under the dirt and accumulated varnish of which he 
 was anxiously expecting to bring out something unusually fine, ab- 
 solutely thrust his arm quite up to the elbow through the decayed 
 and rotten canvass. 
 
 This unfortunate gentleman was, at length, under the necessity 
 of parting with these last favourite remains of his property, and as 
 he had reason to believe that the British capital was the surest 
 market for such commodities, he formed the resolution of transmit- 
 ting thither the whole of his collection. Previously, however, to 
 taking this step, and with the view of arranging matters in the best 
 possible way preparatory to exposing them for sale, the Count deter- 
 mined to consult, by letter, with an artist then resident in London, 
 with whom he had formed an acquaintance some time before at Vi- 
 enna, and who, at the period alluded to, was an associate of the 
 Royal Academy. The superscription of his epistle on this occasion 
 was as follows ; viz. 
 
 « To A B , Esq. 
 
 Ass to the Royal Academy, 
 London :" 
 
 a mode of address which, until the letter was opened, occasioned 
 no little surprise to the author's friend, by whom it had been 
 received. 
 
 * " You rascal ! where is my Rembrandt?" 
 
PICTURE-DEALERS. 251 
 
 This illfated nobleman was doomed to experience additional 
 mortification in finding how very greatly he had been deceived in his 
 estimate of the collection, which, for the most part, had been pur- 
 chased of unprincipled picture-dealers, since the whole of it pro- 
 duced little more than sufficient for defraying the custom-house 
 duties required upon its admission into this country. 
 
 Though such occurrences are by no means uncommon, it is 
 nevertheless too frequently the custom to abuse this class of trades- 
 men. The writer, however, does not hesitate to declare, in their 
 justification, that he is at this moment acquainted with some most 
 respectable characters in that line of business, with whom he has, 
 for years, had transactions, and who are, with great justice, entitled 
 to be accounted no other than men of the strictest integrity ; men 
 who, from their knowledge and attainments, would do honour to any 
 calling or profession. He will venture to assure our amateurs that, 
 provided they are willing to abstain from putting themselves into the 
 hands of those whose characters are unknown, and more particularly 
 of foreigners, who traffic in such works of art, and have transactions 
 only with men of established probity and respectability, it is impos- 
 sible to say from how much mortification, disappointment, vexation, 
 and actual loss they may save themselves. 
 
 The name of Vienna cannot be mentioned without exciting in 
 the author's mind reflections of a most gratifying nature. A more 
 delightful city for a stranger, at the time alluded to, (for since 
 the great influx of English on the Continent things appear to be 
 very materially changed,) it is scarcely possible to imagine ; and a 
 more uniformly kind, friendly, hospitable set of people, including 
 both the noblesse and the bourgeoisie, which two classes in Germany 
 are entirely distinct, was no where to be found. 
 
 At the period referred to, in 1797, the English were, in a par- 
 ticular manner, well received in this city, it being immediately after 
 our great victory over the French fleet at Aboukir ; the most marked 
 attentions, on all occasions, were every where shown them ; and as 
 there happened to be, just then, few of our countrymen abroad, and 
 
 K K 2 
 
252 
 
 CONVERSAZIONI. 
 
 especially at the German courts, there was no end of invitations to 
 my fellow-traveller and myself, which rendered our stay, during the 
 greater part of the two years that we resided there, extremely pleasant. 
 The author would, indeed, consider himself as very ungrateful, could 
 he ever forget the numberless instances of kindness and friendly po- 
 liteness experienced from all classes of society in the place. 
 
 The early hours, and general mode of living, in this capital, 
 were peculiarly adapted for the enjoyment of those pleasures which 
 the intercourse of polite and well informed persons of both sexes is 
 calculated to bestow, and which, at least according to his way of think- 
 » ing, were much more rational than those now-a-days in use in our 
 own country, where, in consequence of the late dinner, little con- 
 versation between them can, comparatively speaking, take place ; so 
 that those interesting assemblies called " Conversazioni^ abroad, are, 
 in England, but partially understood. For whatever else we may 
 justly boast of, the society of the fair does not, it is impossible to 
 be denied, appear to be the leading consideration in our domestic 
 arrangements at present in vogue. The number of houses open 
 every night in Vienna, among the higher classes, and which were the 
 constant resort of company from every country and nation in Europe ; 
 the talent, the accomplishments, the lively and animated convers- 
 ation, and kind hospitality which universally reigned, connected with 
 such a variety of other pleasurable circumstances, literally left no- 
 thing for a stranger to desire. 
 
 Among those persons whose society was, in a more especial 
 manner, agreeable and enlivening in the very highest degree, was 
 Field-Marshal the Prince de Eigne, a character well known through- 
 out Europe, not more, perhaps, from his own writings, than by those 
 of Madame de Stael, who pronounces him to have been " a man of 
 the most brilliant conversation in all Europe, — a great personal 
 favourite with most of the crowned heads of the age, — a great 
 lover of war and of literature, and equally well acquainted with the 
 distinguished generals and famous authors of the day." 
 
 The author had frequent opportunities of enjoying the society 
 
PRINCE DE LIGNE. 253 
 
 of this highly polished nobleman he and his fellow-traveller having 
 occasionally had the honour of receiving him as their guest. The 
 talent he displayed for conversation was truly remarkable ; so much 
 brilliancy of imagination, and such a readiness of wit, accompanied 
 ,wi:th manners at once so dignified, playful, and refined, have very 
 rarely been united in the same individual in a similar degree ; there 
 was, indeed, continually some sally or bon mot to excite either one's 
 pleasure or surprise. 
 
 Among the many witticisms and jeux d'esprit with which he 
 never failed to enliven the company he was in, the writer will men- 
 tion one that occurred with himself It will be necessarv, in order 
 to understand the point of the jest, to bear in mind that Vienna, 
 being a fortress, is surrounded with ramparts, having a moat, lines, 
 and a glacis, between the interior of the city and its suburbs, which 
 last form by much the most extensive and populous parts of the 
 town. It is in the former, however, that the chief of the nobility 
 and persons of fashion reside. 
 
 In consequence, it was supposed, of some pecuniary embarrass- 
 ment, the Prince de Ligne found it convenient to retire without 
 the circuit of the walls, and to take up his abode at a short distance 
 from the town. One day, as his Excellency arrived for dinner, and 
 was accosted as usual, " Bon jour. Prince de Ligne," &c. he imme- 
 diately replied, " Tres bien, je vous remercie ; mais a present, s'il 
 vous plait, je suis Prince hors des Lignes.^^ * 
 
 The public amusements of Vienna were no less inviting than 
 the entertainment afforded in the different houses of private indi- 
 viduals ; plays, operas, music, dancing, and masquerades, or, as they 
 were termed, " Redouts.^' This last-mentioned species of diversion 
 was, to a stranger, of a very novel and interesting kind, inasmuch 
 as in one of these public resorts might be seen, promiscuously as- 
 sembled, all the different ranks which the society of a large capital 
 
 * This is a play upon the name, and means literally, " Very well, I thank you ; 
 but, just now, if you please, I am Prince bej/o?id the lines" 
 
254 
 
 MASQUERADES. 
 
 contains, from the emperor himself to the lowest peruke-maker in 
 the place ; from the princess to the marchande de modes ; the am- 
 bassador, down to his valet-de-chambre, or even laquais-de-place : 
 an assemblage, in fine, of every class, and such as is to be seen, perhaps, 
 in no other city. 
 
 Still, notwithstanding so very heterogeneous a mixture, nothing 
 but the greatest good behaviour and decorum were at all times visi- 
 ble ; no vulgar noise, no drunken disturbance, amidst all this hilarity, 
 either within doors or without ; no crashing of carriages, or swear- 
 ing, or scolding, in either taking up or in setting down ; none of 
 that turbulence and confusion so observable at almost every place 
 of resort in the metropolis of our own country, and which are often- 
 times attended with the most disagreeable, if not the most serious, 
 results. Oh, the comforts and the delight of such order, so much 
 regularity, and such a well-directed police ! Let fastidious and dis- 
 contented radicals say what they please about liberty, and infringe- 
 ment of rights, the author will not hesitate to maintain, that such 
 a partial and wholesome privation of it, as that to which he alludes, 
 tends materially, and most undeniably, to the comfort and the hap- 
 piness of all. Where, in fact, let it be asked, is the individual that 
 suffers, or has just reason to complain ; or, rather, where is not the 
 one that does not experience the every-day advantages arising from 
 it ? During the whole time the author was in this most enchanting 
 resort of all that is delightful, never once did he witness, at the public 
 places of amusement, any thing that might be termed indecorous 
 or rude. 
 
 It so happened, that one of the above-mentioned entertainments 
 was announced for the evening of the day on which we arrived at 
 Vienna, and notwithstanding the fatigue of the journey, for travelling 
 in Germany, it must be observed, in the winter season, is no trifling 
 matter, especially in the northern part, we determined to take advan- 
 tage of so favourable an opportunity of seeing the manners and the 
 general appearance of the inhabitants of the place. With the assist- 
 ance of our valet-de-chambre, a clever active fellow, and one well ac- 
 
MASQUERADES. 
 
 255 
 
 quainted with the customs of all the different cities usually visited by 
 travellers in making the grand tour, we were presently equipped, and 
 proceeded with much expectation to join in the pleasures of the fete. 
 It was not long from the time of our first entrance in the saloon, 
 having scarcely had leisure to examine the splendour and magnificence 
 every where displayed, when our admiration was suddenly changed 
 into sentiments of surprise, occasioned by the almost incredible ap- 
 pearance of our own valet-de-chambre, whom, to our utter astonish- 
 ment, we observed in the very middle and most conspicuous part of the 
 room, moving, with all the airs and graces of a Didelot, in a regular 
 slow minuet, and in the performance of which the gentleman seemed 
 perfectly at home. The superior art displayed in the management of 
 his person and limbs during his well-timed and easy movement in the 
 dance, appeared to be no way lost upon the fair damsel of his choice, 
 and who, considering her person and appearance altogether, could 
 not certainly be deemed otherwise than worthy of the signal mark 
 of distinction she had that night the honour to receive ; there were, 
 indeed, few persons in the room who figured either so gracefully or 
 so well. 
 
 This man, besides being one of the best servants, was the very 
 cleverest fellow possible, and there, really, seemed to be no one 
 single thing that he was not able to perform. He was a most capital 
 cook ; in music, he was scientifically skilled, being a first-rate per- 
 former on the flute, and capable of taking a part upon that instrument 
 in any concert whatever. He would break a horse, or look after a 
 farm. He was an excellent drill-serjeant, and no less useful in the 
 garden, the cellar, or the house. His knowledge of the different lan- 
 o-uages of Europe was equal to any thing that occasion required ; and 
 with the authors and poets in his own, he evinced an acquaint- 
 ance befitting an employment more honourable than that which 
 he filled. 
 
 In no one quality, in fact, or accomplishment was he deficient, 
 and his activity and solicitude to please, rendered him by far the 
 most trust-worthy and the pleasantest domestic that can be imagined. 
 
256 
 
 RAPID REMOVAL OF SNOW AT VIENNA. 
 
 In few instances, perhaps, could the well known line of Johnson be 
 more aptly applied, — 
 
 *' All arts a Frenchman knows." 
 
 At the period alluded to, there was a horse-dealer at Vienna of 
 the name of Hyems, who, not unlike many of the trade, was, to speak 
 technically, " a very deep liand^'' or, in other words, a sharp sort of 
 jockey, as there is reason to think several of our countrymen could 
 testify. During conversation at a dinner-party, one of the guests 
 called out, " What do you think, mon ami ? Hyems is done up ; — 
 the rascal was declared insolvent, only this very day." — " Then sol- 
 vitur acris Hyems^' was the immediate reply. * 
 
 There was a custom practised at Vienna which always struck 
 the writer as well worthy of imitation, and he believes not to be 
 found in any other capital. This was the extraordinary rapidity with 
 which, after a heavy fall of snow, in the space often of a single night, 
 the greater part of the city would be entirely cleared. No sooner did 
 symptoms of a thaw begin to take place, than the inhabitants of the 
 various prisons were made to turn out, and with spades, pickaxes, 
 &c. the whole mass was presently carted, by torch-light, out of the 
 way. As the space within the walls was comparatively small, this 
 became easily practicable, and was no less quickly performed ; the 
 effect was perfectly like magic, and in a few hours, if the sun hap- 
 pened to come out, the pavement would be as dry and as clean as 
 during the summer months of the year. Those who know, and have 
 experienced the difficulties which are continually to be met with in 
 London at the breaking up of a long frost, and the sudden melting 
 of an accumulation of snow, will be able, to form some idea of the 
 sort of comfort alluded to. 
 
 The power of the river Danube on such occasions is frequently 
 most tremendous, and its effects devastating and wide-spreading in 
 a very fearful degree. During an unusually severe winter, that the 
 
 * This being a play upon the word, a translation but ill explains it, — literally, 
 " Keen winter {Hi/ems) is broken up." 
 
RIVER DANUBE. 
 
 257 
 
 author was at Vienna, and after a long-continued fall of snow ; when 
 the cold was so intense as to freeze to death, at different times, 
 several of the sentinels on duty upon the ramparts of the town, a 
 spectacle of this kind, or, as it is termed, a debacle, took place. As 
 the thaw was extremely sudden, much apprehension was entertained 
 from the threatened inundation, which, under such circumstances, 
 spreads to a most enormous extent, destroying every thing before it, 
 houses, cattle, &c. and laying the whole country, for many miles, 
 entirely under water. What, however, in a more particular manner, 
 excited the curiosity of the inhabitants at this period, was the ex- 
 pected carrying away, by the ice, of the immense line of bridges, 
 which, from the constant rapidity and depth of the stream, are neces- 
 sarily constructed of wood. This being a sight of rare occurrence, 
 and which happens only upon the very sudden breaking up of a severe 
 frost, and the melting of a deep snow, an unusual sensation prevailed ; 
 the emperor, the court, and almost the whole population of the city, 
 flocked with the greatest eagerness and anxiety to view the im- 
 pending destruction, and which certainly proved a scene of the most 
 extraordinary kind. The enormous masses of ice which came rushino- 
 down the boiling and sonorous stream — the immense multitude 
 assembled around — the tremendous crash of the bridge, which, with 
 almost breathless expectation, the spectators had seen labouring in 
 the flood — then the striking vacuity of space, occasioned by its slow 
 and majestic disappearance from the view, like that left upon the 
 foundering of a huge ship at sea, and which fills the heart with sen- 
 sations of dread ; — all" these circumstances, together, presented a 
 most curious and interesting sight. Indeed one more truly imposing, 
 or better calculated to make a serious and lasting impression upon 
 the mind, it is not easy to imagine ; unless, perhaps, it might be that 
 which occurred in the same neighbourhood very shortly afterwards, 
 upon the appearance of the immense Russian army under General 
 Suwarrow, when passing in front of the palace of Shonbrun*, upon its 
 
 * An Imperial Palace, about a couple of miles from Vienna. 
 
 L L 
 
258 RUSSIAN ARMY. 
 
 ' march into Italy, to oppose the rapid and alarming career of the 
 French. 
 
 The effect and the fate of each of them were nearly the same ; 
 for, like the impetuous torrent, this might_y host, carrying death and 
 desolation around, was equally destined never more to return ; being 
 almost as quickly swallowed up (with the exception of a few) in the 
 overwhelming tide of exterminating war, as the other became en- 
 gulfed in the ocean to which it was seen hurrying along. 
 
 Fortunately the day was favourable for the contemplation of so 
 singular a procession, which being composed of the many different 
 tribes from the extensive empire of the north, Calmucks, Cossacks, 
 those who inhabit the Ukrain, and the banks of the Don, &c. each 
 armed and habited in its own particular costume ; numbers of them 
 having at their breasts three, four, and sometimes five or even six 
 medals, the trophies of Ismailow, Prague, and other bloody sieges and 
 assaults, and which, in many instances, were half covered with their 
 beards, could not fail to excite in the minds of all present the greatest 
 admiration. This feeling, however, was mingled with sentiments of 
 commiseration, upon reflecting how many out of that vast concourse 
 of human beings were doomed to fall in the sanguinary conflict to 
 which they were hastening ; and how many unfortunate wives and 
 their children were very shortly to experience the loss of, at once, 
 their chief consolation and means of support. 
 
 " Of unrecorded name 
 Died the mean man ; yet did he leave behind 
 One who did never say her daily prayers 
 Of him forgetful, who to every tale 
 Of the distant war, lending an eager ear, 
 Grew pale, and trembled. At her cottage door 
 The wretched one shall sit, and with dim eye 
 Gaze o'er the plain, where on his parting steps 
 Her last look hung. Nor ever shall she know 
 Her husband dead, but tortured with vain hope, 
 Gaze on, — then, heart-sick, turn to her poor babe, 
 And weep it fatherless." Southey. 
 
GENERAL SUWARROW. 
 
 259 
 
 What formed in the opinion of the author the most striking 
 feature in the whole proceeding, was the display of heart-felt con- 
 gratulation so universally expressed by this multitude of warriors 
 towards their old and much-beloved commander, Suwarrow, who 
 had preceded them to Vienna, than whom, perhaps, no general was 
 ever more adored by his soldiers. 
 
 The fate of this officer, who, on so many brilliant and celebrated 
 occasions had distinguished himself, was singularly hard ; he escaped, 
 it is true, the dreadful carnage of the field, and, with a remnant of 
 his faithful followers, contrived to find his way home. But for what 
 did he return ? Or what was the recompense he received for all his 
 hard-earned victories, the wounds, the perils, and the privations he 
 had endured ? What, but to be coldly received by his sovereign ; to 
 be slighted, and left to die of disappointment, of chagrin, and a 
 broken heart ! 
 
 There was a little trait of Suwarrow, a good deal talked of at 
 Vienna at the time, which showed that, notwithstanding his warlike 
 roughness of character and uncouth habits, he was not deficient in 
 the more soft and kindlier feelings, or in those delicate attentions to 
 the female sex which ever bespeak a gentle and amiable disposition. 
 When upon his road to join the army, which was appointed to act 
 under his command, it happened that he passed, in the middle of 
 the night, through the town in which his wife had taken up her 
 evening's abode. As he had not a moment to spare, he merely 
 entered her lodging-room, with the intention of satisfying himself 
 that she was well ; finding her, however, fast asleep, he immediately 
 retired, without disturbing her repose, having previously left upon 
 her pillow, as a token of his affection, a very costly ornament, set 
 with brilliants and other precious stones. 
 
 Suwarrow affected much singularity in his manners and dress. 
 Whilst at Vienna he dined at eleven o'clock, and did almost every 
 thing in a different manner from any body else. He was regularly 
 attended by a couple of Cossacks, one of whom poured a bucket of 
 cold water over him, upon his first getting out of bed, let the weather 
 
 L L 2 
 
'260 
 
 GENERAL SUVVARIIOW. 
 
 be ever so inclement. He was a great favourite with the Empress 
 Catherine, who well knew how to appreciate his extraordinary merit 
 as a commander. 
 
 These Russian troops having never before met the French in 
 the field, at first little regarded the destructive fire of their mitraille, 
 in consequence of which, thousands who undauntingly marched up 
 directly to the cannon's mouth, were presently mown down. This 
 occurred especially among the Cossacks, who, in their warfare with 
 the Turks, had been accustomed to carry every thing sword in 
 hand. 
 
 After a great deal of hard fighting, a misunderstanding took 
 place between the courts of Petersburgh and Vienna, and Suwarrow 
 received orders to separate from the Austrians, and to go into Swit- 
 zerland with the few troops that he had le+t, to take the command of 
 those that had just arrived there, under the conduct of M. de Kor- 
 sakow. He directed his march through Italian Switzerland, and soon 
 saw himself surrounded by the French, who had just completely 
 routed, at Zurich, the army that he was going to join. Massena 
 thought himself sure of crushing him, but Suwarrow overcame all 
 obstacles, and re-animated the courage of his soldiers, who were 
 many times about to give way. It is said, that one day, seeing them 
 resolved to lay down their arms, rather than climb mountains again, 
 and fight amid snow and ice, he coolly ordered a ditch to be dug, 
 stretched himself in it before them, and told them to cover him with 
 earth, adding, that he had only that service to ask of them, since 
 they refused to follow him. This species of eloquence electrified his 
 dispirited soldiers, and they immediately swore never to abandon 
 him. He defeated the corps that came up with him, and arrived in 
 Germany with the shattered remains of his army. This retreat was 
 the last exploit of Suwarrow, the Russian troops having been re- 
 called, and he continued his march to Petersburgh with his army, in 
 obedience to the strict orders of Paul I. He died on the 18th of 
 May, 1800, at his estate at PalendorfF in Esthonia, at the age of 
 seventy-one. 
 
ENGLISHMEN TRAVELLING ON THE CONTINENT. 
 
 261 
 
 It has been a complaint often repeated, and with, perhaps, too 
 much reason, that some of our countrymen who travel on the Con- 
 tinent are, after their return, not always so mindful of the attentions 
 and hospitality they may have received as might be expected, being 
 frequently more ready to expose the defects rather than to commend 
 the good qualities of those by whom they have been noticed abroad 
 Should these pages be so fortunate as to obtain the perusal of any 
 individual connected with Vienna, he will find that at least one Eng- 
 lishman is not forgetful of kindness received, — one who seizes with 
 pleasure the opportunity of expressing his sincere acknowledgments 
 for the many polite and disinterested acts of attention he experienced. 
 
262 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Having brought to a conclusion the arrangement of the various 
 matter which it appeared to the author might tend to the furtherance 
 of the objects proposed, he refrains from intruding longer upon the 
 notice of the reader, than merely to request, that in scanning the 
 merits of this undertaking, the motives which influenced him in the 
 attempt, rather than the want of ability too observable in the exe- 
 cution of it, may be held principally in view. 
 
 Whether the materials which have been collected, or the man- 
 ner in which they are put together, may excite interest in others ; — 
 or whether from the perusal of the evidence which these testimonies 
 afford to the merit of our great landscape painter, and the encomi- 
 ums bestowed upon landscape in general, any one may be led to the 
 study of so delightful an art, it is not for him to determine. In 
 either case, the object he had in view will be accomplished. A de- 
 gree of justice, however inadequate, will, on the one hand, have 
 been rendered to the manes of Wilson ; and, on the other, a source 
 of pleasure, of the very highest order, will have been opened to the 
 individual who, in the contemplation of Nature, seeks to add grace 
 to her beauties by associating her with the refinements of art. 
 
 " O how canst thou renounce the boundless store 
 Of charms which Nature to her votary yields ! 
 The warbling woodland, the resounding shore, 
 The pomp of groves, and garniture of fields ! — 
 O how canst thou renounce, and hope to be forgiven?" Beattie. 
 
Sir Joshua Reynoijds . 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 263 
 
 Of one thing the writer may be allowed to flatter himself, and 
 that is, that however imperfect his performance may be thought, he 
 cannot be accused of having written with indifference or luke-warm- 
 ness on subjects of so much importance. To have been wanting in 
 this particular, would b.e a fault undeserving of excuse ; for with 
 what shadow of reason can an author expect that his reader shall 
 enter, with any serious interest, into his work, unless it can be made 
 to appear that he himself is in earnest ? 
 
 That such has really been the case in respect of this volume, 
 and that it has been written con amove, if the expression may be 
 used, there is, it is hoped, sufficient internal evidence to prove. 
 
 " No man," says Sir Joshua Reynolds, " deserves better of 
 mankind than he who has the art of opening sources of intellectual 
 pleasures and instruction by means of the senses." * , 
 
 That the pursuit recommended is capable of affording both 
 pleasure and instruction the most highly intellectual, and that by 
 the very means mentioned by the President, it has been the writer's 
 endeavour to show. 
 
 How far " its worth shall be acknowledged," or in what degree 
 " others shall admire it," in consequence of this feeble endeavour to 
 " advance it into notice," it remains for the candid and unpreju- 
 diced reader to pronounce. 
 
 " The biography of eminent men, the works which treat of art 
 and science, may be said to be useful even when they cannot be con- 
 sidered as deeply instructive ; they keep up our ardour, at least, if 
 they do not increase our information. 
 
 " Productions of this kind, when they contain no gross or 
 dangerous errors, will always employ to advantage the hours of 
 leisure and lassitude, and often effect, as an amusement, that benefit 
 which they fail to accomplish by instruction." 
 
 Should it, therefore, fortunately happen, that the reader really 
 has been amused, the author's end is obtained ; since instruction, in 
 
 * Northcote's Life of Reynolds. 
 
264 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 that case, may at the same time have been derived from his work. If, 
 in the perusal of any part of it, a smile has been drawn from him, he 
 has, most likely, been pleased ; if his heart has been softened, it has 
 been amended ; and if he has laughed, his health is the better lor it, 
 and, consequently, some portion, however trifling, may have been 
 added (so, at least, says the sensitive Sterne,) to the comfort and 
 duration of his days. 
 
 I shall conclude in the words of an admired author. " I may 
 truly say, that whatever be the fate or reception of the preceding pro- 
 duction, it will owe its author nothing. In sickness or in health, 
 whether of body or mind, I have found in these pursuits what can alone 
 alleviate the one, or give enjoyment to the other — occupation and 
 engagement," 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 M M 
 
267 
 
 APPENDIX A. 
 
 Joos Momper may be considered as a great landscape painter ; he was ■ 
 born about the year 1580 ; we do not know, however, exactly, either the 
 place of his nativity, the name of his father, or who was his master. We 
 must take it for granted, that, like a man of genius, he had no other than 
 Nature herself ; he painted every thing from her with much freedom of touch, 
 without finishing any thing, in such a way that his pictures have their effect 
 only when seen at a distance. This manner is less pleasing to the eye, 
 and has, therefore, obtained him few followers ; but, prejudice apart, has it not, 
 after all, quite as much merit as the more finished style, provided it produces 
 its effect, that it excites our admiration, that it deceives the spectator ? What 
 can the finished manner of Breugel, or Paul Bril, or of Savery do more ? 
 
 Momper did not follow the taste of his country, he sought for Nature, 
 and that common mother exhibited herself to him in a manner altogether 
 different from that in which she appeared to the other Flemish painters. 
 
 The enchanting views which his landscapes display, have gained him 
 considerable reputation ; his pictures produce a prodigious effect by their 
 gradation ; and by their admirable extensiveness of the prospect, they train 
 on the imagination more than any other painter. It must not, however, 
 be denied, that the pictures of this master rarely find admission into the first 
 collections, and do not sell high. A certain negligence, discoverable when 
 one looks at them near, and their undecided touch, do not allow them to 
 be placed in the same rank with those of the other Flemings, which are 
 principally esteemed for their high finishing. 
 
 M M 2 
 
268 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 APPENDIX B. 
 
 A catalogue of Pictures, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds, burnt at the fire 
 at Belvoir Castle, the seat of" His Grace the Duke of Rutland, Octo- 
 ber 26. 1816. 
 
 The Nativity. 
 
 The Infant Jupiter. 
 
 An old Man reading a Ballad. 
 
 The calling of Samuel. 
 
 The Venetian Boy. 
 
 The Duchess of Rutland, whole length. 
 The Duke of Rutland, do. 
 
 Lord Charles, Lord Robert, and Lord William Manners, with a Spaniel 
 Dog. 
 
 Lord Granby, Lady Elizabeth, and Lady Katharine Manners. 
 
 Lord Chatham. 
 
 The Duchess of Beaufort, 
 
 Kitty Fisher. 
 
 The Marquis of Lothian. 
 
 Sir Joshua's Portrait. 
 
 The Marquis of Granby, Hussar (John Notzell) and War Horse. 
 
 Lord Mansfield. 
 
 General Oglethorpe. 
 
 Lady Granby. 
 
 Head of Lord Granby. 
 
 Besides the above-mentioned pictures by Sir Joshua Reynolds, many 
 other very valuable paintings were destroyed. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 269 
 
 APPENDIX C. 
 
 List of Wilson s Pupils. 
 
 Mr. Plitner, died young in Italy. 
 
 Mr. Huddersfield, who afterwards took orders. 
 
 Mr. Carr, died young, being only in the 22d year of his age. He was con- 
 sidered by Wilson as his most promising pupil, and frequently assisted him 
 in the minor parts of his pictures. 
 
 Mr. Steel, a native of Ireland. 
 
 Joseph Farrington, R.A. 
 
 William Hodges, R.A., celebrated as the companion of our great circum- 
 navigator. Cook, in two voyages of discovery. 
 
 Tom Jones, who painted a large landscape in which Mortimer introduced 
 the subject of Orpheus killed by the nymphs and others. 
 
 Thomas Jenkins. This gentleman accompanied Wilson to Rome. 
 
 — — Frebairn has been mentioned as a pupil of Wilson, though there seems 
 some reason to doubt it, as he studied under, and is known to liave 
 been articled to, the elder Reinagle, R.A. 
 
 Mr. Feary. 
 
 Mr. Atkinson. 
 
 W. Marlow. 
 
 Burton. 
 
 Boultbee, a horse painter, well known in Leicestershire and Notting- 
 hamshire. 
 
 Ganden. 
 
 Johnson. 
 
 There were, also, several amateurs, who received instruction from Wil- 
 son. Among these may be numbered, 
 
 Sir George Beaumont, Bart. 
 
 Mr. Parsons, the celebrated comedian. 
 
 Mr. Stowers. 
 
270 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 APPENDIX D. 
 
 A/ 9. 
 
 In the following List will be found many of Wilson's principal Pictures, 
 with the names of the possessors of them. As, however, they are from 
 one cause or other continually changing hands, it is impossible to be 
 very accurate in such a statement. From the catalogue of the British 
 Institution for the year 1814, a considerable number of the under 
 mentioned have been taken. 
 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 Niobe 
 
 Do. . . . . 
 
 Do. ... 
 
 Phaeton . - . 
 Do. - - - 
 View of Rome, large 
 Maecenas's Villa, at Tivoli 
 Do. - - - 
 Do. ... 
 Do. ... 
 Do. - - 
 
 Celadon and Amelia 
 
 POSSESSORS. 
 
 His R. H. the Duke of Gloucester. 
 
 Sir G. Beaumont, Bart. 
 
 Marquis of Stafford. 
 
 Blundell, Esq. , Ii^ c£. 
 
 Earl Cowper. 
 
 Earl of Dartmouth. 
 
 Sir G. Beaumont, Bart. 
 
 Late W. Leader, Esq. 
 
 J. N. Hughes, Esq. 
 - Mvi. Booth<^. - 
 ■ Late J. Farrington, Esq. 
 
 {W. Smith, Esq. M. P. I believe now 
 in the possession of Lord Lansdown. 
 
 View on the river Po, in Italy, 'I 
 
 1 f Sir J. Leicester, Bart, 
 
 large - - - - } 
 
 Solitude, companion to do. 
 Apollo and the Seasons 
 Meleager and Atalanta 
 Sion House, from Kew Gardens 
 Do. - - - - 
 Do. .... 
 Cicero at his Villa 
 
 Do. .... 
 
 Do. .... 
 
 Lake of Nemi 
 
 Edward Gray, Esq. }birviA^€>^ . 
 
 Samuel Rogers, Esq. 
 
 Do. 
 
 W. Leader, Esq. 
 
 Daniell, Esq. 
 
 T. Wright, Esq. 
 
 Sir W.W.Wynne, Bart. 
 
 J. Hawkins, Esq. 
 
 W. Fitzhugh, Esq. 
 
 Sir R. C. Hoare, Bart. ^^'^ • 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 271 
 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 POSSESSORS. 
 
 Lake of Nemi 
 
 Do 
 
 Do. - - - - 
 
 A River Scene 
 A similar tb do. 
 Solitude - 
 
 View of Tabley House, Cheshire 
 
 View on the river Dee 
 
 Do. - - - - 
 
 Landscape. . . _ 
 
 View of Wilton House 
 
 Do. - - - 
 
 Do. .... 
 
 View at Wilton 
 
 View on the coast of Baiae 
 
 Do. .... 
 
 View on the Tiber, near Rome 
 
 View near Rome 
 
 Do. - - - - 
 
 Do. - . - . 
 
 Do. - - - - 
 
 Temple of Bacchus, near Rome 
 
 View of Rome 
 
 Adrian's Villa 
 
 View of the Bridge of Rimini 
 Adrian's Villa 
 
 View on the Strada Nomentana 
 View on the river Thames 
 View at Milbank 
 An Italian Scene 
 View of Croome, Worcestershire 
 View of Rosamond's Pond, St. 
 
 James's Park - . 
 Landscape - 
 View of Moor Park, Herts 
 View from do. 
 Landscape, figures fishing 
 
 Lady Ford. 
 
 T. Wright, Esq. 
 
 Hill, Esq. 
 
 Sir Thomas Lawrence. 
 
 T. Wright, Esq. 
 
 J. Roberts, Esq. 
 
 Sir J. Leicester, Bart. 
 
 Lord Grosvenor. 
 
 Sir William Pilkington, Bart. 
 
 Do. 
 
 Earl of Pembroke. 
 Do. 
 
 Do. \ 
 
 Do. 
 
 Lady Douglass. 
 S. Peploe, Esq. 
 Earl of Dartmouth. 
 Do. 
 
 Lady Douglass. 
 Marquis Camden. 
 J. Hawkins, Esq. 
 J. Ewer, Esq. 
 
 Miss Boothe. KlJiyhy^ 
 
 Earl of Dartmouth. 
 
 W. Leader, Esq. - 
 
 Viscount Palmerston. 
 
 S. Peploe, Esq. 
 
 Lady Ford. 
 
 M. M. Zackary, Esq. 
 
 Do. 
 
 Earl of Coventry. ■ : 
 
 ■Brugg, Esq. 
 
 Samuel Rogers, Esq. 
 Lord Dundas. ^ 
 Do. ^ 
 J. Todhunter, Esq. 
 
272 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 POSSESSORS. 
 
 Landscape, figures fishing 
 
 Do. do. 
 
 Do. do. small 
 
 Landscape - 
 
 Do. - - - - 
 
 Do. and figures 
 
 Do. figures fishing 
 
 The Hermitage 
 
 View in Italy 
 
 View of Dover 
 
 View on the Tiber 
 
 A Woody Scene, large 
 
 A Landscape, do. 
 
 View near Llangollen Bridge 
 
 Viscount Palmerston. 
 Sir M. W. Ridley, Bart. 
 John Knight, Esq. 
 J. W. Steers, Esq. 
 Do. 
 
 S. Squire, Esq. 
 Earl of Egremont. 
 Do. 
 
 Marquis of Aberdeen. 
 
 Mrs. White. 
 
 Do. 
 
 Sir W. W. Wynne, Bart. 
 
 Do. 
 
 Do. 
 
 The Bridge at Llangollen, with\ 
 
 V Castle Dinas Bran - -J 
 Landscape, with figures bathing - 
 View of Ancona 
 
 View in the Strada Nomentana - 
 View of Oakhampton Castle 
 Ruins on the coast of Baige 
 The Temple of Venus, on the coast 
 
 ofBaiae ... - 
 Landscape - 
 
 Do. 
 
 Upright Landscape, small 
 Landscape .... 
 An Evening Scene 
 Landscape .... 
 
 Do. 
 
 Do. small - . . 
 An Italian Scene 
 An upright Landscape 
 Three small Landscapes, at Rise 
 
 holme, near Lincoln 
 The Seasons 
 
 Mr. Coppin. 
 J. Hawkins, Esq. 
 Lady Ford. 
 
 Honourable Richard Hoare. 
 J. Trower, Esq. 
 
 J- Ridley Colbourne, Esq. 
 
 Lady Ford. 
 Do. 
 
 R. Ashley, Esq. 
 J. Hawkins, Esq. 
 Mr. Coppin. 
 Hon. A. Phipps. 
 Sir R. C. Hoare, Bart. 
 Thomas Daniell, Esq. 
 • Rev. Dr. Marlow. 
 - Marquis Hastings. 
 
 ' j-F. ChapUn, Esq. 
 ■ T. Tomkinson, Esq, 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 273 
 
 SUBJECTS. POSSESSORS. 
 
 Two large Landscapes, at Selby 
 House, near Welfbrd, North- 
 amptonshire 
 
 Tomb of the Horatii and Curiatii T. Wright, Esq. 
 
 Broken Bridge of Narni - . Do. 
 
 Nymphs bathing - - - Do. 
 
 View, an Archway . . , Do. 
 
 Landscape .... Do. 
 
 Do Do. 
 
 Island in the Gulf of Venice - Do. 
 
 ^ Mrs. Payne, Selby House, Northamp- 
 C tonshire. 
 
274 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 IV 
 
 .(,1 
 
 APPENDIX E. 
 
 The principal Engravings from the Paintings of Wilson, will be foinid 
 in the following List, with the Names of the Engravers. 
 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 ENGRAVERS. 
 
 Phaeton 
 
 s , J XT- 1 • r The figures by 
 f^ W^ rciw ^Niobe {The landscape by 
 
 c 
 
 Niobe 
 
 Celadon and Amelia - 
 Ceyx and Alcyone 
 Cicero at his Villa . - . 
 Snowdon Hill - 
 Meleager and Atalanta 
 Apollo and the Seasons 
 Solitude - 
 Carnarvon Castle - . - 
 Kilgarron Castle . . . 
 Pembroke Town and Castle 
 The great Bridge over the Taffe - 
 The summit of Cador Idris 
 The Lake of Nemi, or Speculum 
 Dianae - - - . - 
 Viau^ i\A Villa Madama, near Rome, II 
 Teatro . . . . 
 ■ A View in Italy - . - 
 A Landscape (-1^ ^''^> ) - 
 
 Do 
 
 ^ Villa of Maecenas, at Tivoli 
 In the Villa Adriana - - . - 
 
 V Circus of Caracalla - - . 
 ^ Pompey's Bridge, at Terni - 
 
 V Baths of Dioclesian - - - 
 
 Woollet. 174?., P.cUv^A ««■ c.^ -1>**<» 'I'SnA^w^U/. 
 
 William Sharpe. ; 
 
 Samuel Smith. / ' 
 
 Woollet. i7M - ^'<^^K $*3t 4" ""^-^H ^' 
 
 Do. /76s < f>'cLC^ 1^ U^K <MJl , 
 
 Do. 17^9 - ^5 ^^j\f<yC\ A>r^U . 
 
 Do. \-}lt • 
 
 Do. Fv D. (^''''^ '^*^*'*'^'^*'^ ptthwTtJ) 
 Woollet and Pouncey. l-jij 
 
 Do. J' "'^"^^ S*tyvcA< 
 
 Woollet and Ellis. i71« • ^^duM.^ Ui . 
 W. Byrne. 17-^5. 
 W. Elliott. '77fr. 
 James Mason. ^7]^'', 
 P. C. Canot. 177 <; 
 
 E. and M. Rooker. W^j) {^^^ ^'^^^ oM 
 ^J. Wood. '^64 D (?ri^v.A<> lv^ Ht «Yy ^af^ci)\ 
 
 j-W. Byrne. 765*. 
 James Roberts. tjCS". i:it.v^^ vyf.S^yvvMv. CU^ f.cj^- 
 Do. i7ts'. 
 Do. '7^7 
 M. Rooker. 
 M. Rooker, 
 Do. 
 
 James Gandon. 
 Do. 
 
APPENDIX. 
 
 275 
 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 ENGRAVERS. 
 
 (pikJ,^ NX' Bridge of Augustus, at Rimini 
 " ^ In the Strada Nomentana - 
 ^V'}^- ^ Banks of the Tiber - 
 
 ^ Temple of Romulus and Remus 
 ^ Castle of Ischia 
 ^ Temple of Peace 
 \^v/ Torre del Grotte, near Naples 
 <dr ^. 1 67, A View of Rome 
 
 J. Farrington. 
 Do. 
 
 J. Gandon. 
 
 Do. 
 
 Do. 
 
 M. Rooker. 
 W. Hodges. 
 Middiman. 
 
 77^ 
 
 Meleager and Atalanta, mezzo- .^^^ ^ IvrAvtf 17^ 
 
 tmto 
 
 Tivoli, Dulwich College 
 Do. do. on steel 
 
 View on the river Dee 
 Evening - 
 
 - Cockburn. 
 
 - Charles Turner. 
 
 - T. Morris. \-}^<(r U'y\^ (f'cW am\\'wo4C) 
 
 - Reynolds. ^ . o 
 
 There is a volume of outline etchings, published at Oxford, from 
 sketches by Wilson j with the exception, however, of two or three of them, 
 they are little more than mere indications of ideas of subjects, with traces so 
 undefined, as to be scarcely intelligible even to an artist. 
 
 THE END. 
 
London : 
 Printed by A. & R. Spottiswoode, 
 New-Street-Square.