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RECOMMENDATIONS. 
 
 Boston-, December 1, 1868. 
 
 Ml/ rtear Sir, — I have read -with much pleasure and interest your manuscript on the 
 Fine Arts, and hare no hesitation in saying that I think it a work deserving the honors of 
 the press, and that it would be well received, and command a steady, though not a rapid 
 sale. 
 
 It shows a wide range of reading and observation, the fruits of which are presented with 
 good judgment and good taste. It has the merit of being popular, and yet not superficial, 
 and thus is very well adapted both for purposes of education and for general reading. 
 
 I do not know of any work in the language that fills the place which yours is intended 
 tofill,anddoesfill worthily and well. Yours truly, G. S. HILLAKD. 
 
 S. P. Long, Esq. 
 
 Cambridge, January 26, 1869. 
 
 My dear Sir, — It has given me very great pleasure to examine the manuscript of your 
 work on Art. It seems to me a work of great intrinsic merit and value, and of peculiar 
 worth to the public, to which I trust it will soon be given, inasmuch as it fills a place which 
 is filled by no other book or books in the language, within my knowledge. 
 
 It shows thorough acquaintance with the whole ground, careful reflection , discriminating 
 taste, and a just appreciation of the wants which it is designed to satisfy It will be of 
 equal value as a text-book for high schools and colleges, and as a book for the general read- 
 ing of persons who desire information on subjects connected with the Fine Arts. At the 
 same time, if enriched (as it no doubt will be) with an adequate Alphabetical Index, it will 
 take its place on the shelves of libraries as a reference book for consultation on a wide 
 range of subjects. I am, dear sir, very sincerely yours, A. P. PEABODY. 
 
 S. P. LoxG, Esq. 
 
 S P. LoxG, Esq. Bostox, February 22, 1869. \ 
 
 Ml/ dear Sir, — Having examined your excellent work sufficiently to be aware of its 
 great value, I need only say that I heartily concur in what ha.« been said in regard to it by 
 Drs. Peabody and Lothrop and Hon Geo. S. Ilillard : and I would add that I believe that 
 any person who should carefully read it would so understand the principles, and have his 
 eyes opened to the beauties of Art, that he would never look upon a picture, a statue, or a 
 noble building, without more interest, and a higher power of appreciating and enjoying it, 
 than he possibly could have if he had not read your book, or a large number of valuable 
 ones in its place. 
 
 If any person of natural taste, about to travel in Europe, should ask me how he might 
 best prepare himself to understand and enjoy the objects of high Art h^might there meet 
 with, I should say. Read attentively Mr. Long's book upon the subject of Art. 
 
 I am, dear sir, very respectfully yours, GEO. B. EMERSON. 
 
ii EECOMMEXDATIOXS. 
 
 S. P. Long, Esq. Boston, November 19, 1S6S 
 
 Dear Sir, — I have read lar^e portion!5 of the manuscript you left with me, and from this 
 reading and your own explanations I am more and more satisfied that in these Essays 
 on the Principles of Taste in Art you have prepared a work much needed, and that will 
 be interesting and valuable to all seeking knowledge on this subject, and eminently adapted 
 to be useful as a text-book in high schools and colleges. 
 
 As a general statement it is true that in the schools and colleges in this country little or 
 no instruction is given in what we call the Fine Arts, either in the principles of taste 
 as illustrated in them, or on their origin, history, progress, present condition, etc. ; and if 
 after leaving school or college one wishes to learn something of these subjects, he is obliged 
 to pick it up here and there, as he can find it in various volumes. 
 
 I have been a member of the Boston School Committee many years ; and in this connec- 
 tion with our system of public instruction have been clearly of opinion that some knowledge 
 in the department of the Fine Arts, and precisely such knowledge as you have presented in 
 these Essays in an admirably clear and condensed form, should be imparted to the pupils, 
 and I feel confident that the publication of your work will be speedily followed by its intro- 
 duction into many educational Institutions of the United States. 
 
 Very truly yours, S. K. LOTHROP. 
 
 Pesiberton Square Institute of Instruction for Young Ladies. 
 
 S. P. Long, Esq. Boston, July 7, 1869. 
 
 Dear Sir, — During the three years that you have lectured to my advanced classes on the 
 subject of Art, I have become familiar with the substance of the work which you propose to 
 pubUsh ; and I' assure you it gives me great satisftvction to say that I regard it as possessing 
 peculiar and extraordinary merits, and that among the many works that have been written 
 upon the subject of Art I know of no one that can take the place of yours. 
 
 Instead of confusing the mind with unnecessary details, it enters at once upon the dis- 
 cussion and exposition of the principles that underlie all Art criticism, and without the 
 knowledge of which there can be no independent judgment of the works of the great mas- 
 ters, or even of those of inferior merit. 
 
 The Essay on Personal Beauty, as it seems to me, is very attractive, and deserves peculiar 
 attention for the soundness and importance of the views therein presented. Your style is 
 simple yet classical, vigorous yet graceful, and free from unnecessary technical expressions. 
 I shall heartily welcome the publication of a work so long desired by the public, and so 
 admirably adapted for educational purposes, and so deeply interesting for private reading 
 and study. I shall certainly introduce it into my own institution. 
 
 Veiy truly yours, GEO. GANNETT. 
 
A K T : 
 
 ITS LAWS, AND THE REASONS FOR THEM, 
 
 GENERAL AND EDUCATIONAL 
 PURPOSES. 
 
 SAMUEL P. LONG, 
 
 COUTfSELLOR AT LAW, STUDENT OF THE EXGLISH ROTAL ACADEMY, AM) PCTIL 
 OF THE LATE GILBERT STUART XEWTOX, ESQ., R. A. 
 
 " Though in practical knowledges every complete work of art may bear the credit of a 
 rule, yet peradventure rules should precede, that we may be made fit to judge of examples." 
 
 " I had noted that all art was in the truest perfection when it might be reduced to some 
 natural principle: for what are the most judicious artisans but the mimics of nature? This 
 led me to contemplate our own bodies, wherein the high Architect of the world has dis- 
 played such skill as to stupefy all human reason." — SiR HENRY WOTTON. 
 
 "i 
 
 'SRSITT] 
 
 'OulT bosto:n-: 
 
 LEE iTNTD SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 XEW YORK: 
 
 LEE, SHEPARD, AXD DILLINGHAM. 
 
 18 71. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1871, 
 
 BY SAMUEL P. LONG, 
 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 University Press: Welch, Bigelow, & Co., 
 Cambridge. 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 To those distinguished scholars who kindly accepted the task 
 of examining the manuscript of this work, and who had the 
 liberality to commend it, with sentiments of the most profound 
 respect I dedicate this volume, not without hope that, however 
 much their well-known desire to promote the cause of general 
 education may have influenced them to overestimate its merits, it 
 yet may contribute something to the efforts now being made to 
 popularize a knowledge of the principles of those arts whose 
 legitimate operation has ever been 
 
 " Tlie manners to soften and improve the heart." 
 
 S. p. L. 
 Boston, March, 1871. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 T 
 
 HE desio-n of the author of this vohune is to render some 
 
 assistance to those who desire to acquire a knowledge of 
 the principles of taste as exhibited in the great productions 
 of ancient and modern Art. 
 
 An acquaintance with those principles is now getting to be 
 regarded as a necessary part of polite education ; but a gi'eat 
 hindrance to obtaining such knowledge has been the want of 
 a text-book in which those principles are concisely and intel- 
 ligibly discussed, and illustrated by reference to particular 
 examples in the painting, sculpture, and architectm-e of the 
 past and the present. 
 
 Attempts have been made to remedy this evil, but never 
 with much success : first, because the authors of them had no 
 practical knowledge of art; and second, because, like most 
 critics of these subjects, they gave a transcript merely of the 
 emotions which works of art awakened in themselves, and not 
 the reasons why they were worthy of the admiration of the 
 beholder, — or, at best, stating the rules of art, but wholly 
 omitting the reasons for those rules, or that which constitutes 
 the Philosophy of Art. 
 
 In the present volume the attempt has been made to dis- 
 cover those reasons in the wants or requirements of the human 
 constitution; and, if success has attended the effort, all will 
 
VIU PREFACE. 
 
 have been accomplislied in that direction that conld have 
 been reasonably expected, for human inquiry cannot be ex- 
 tended beyond it. 
 
 Of course, the writer of this volume does not claim to have 
 discovered any new principle of Art, but simply to have brought 
 within the reach of the common intellect truths ordinarily 
 unobserved b}^ the mass, ever availing himself of the better 
 knowledge of those who have written upon Art whenever he 
 thought it could be appropriated to the most complete illustra- 
 tion of the subject. He has taken nothing, however, upon 
 mere report, but only after a critical examination of the evi- 
 dence to its truth and the exercise of his own judgment. 
 There was ample room and demand for thought and originality 
 in thus attempting to popularize the great leading ideas of 
 Art, divesting them of technical obscurities, and rendering 
 them intelligible to others than practical artists. 
 
 It will be seen that a much greater space has apparently 
 been given to painting than to sculpture and architecture ; but 
 it is only seemingly so, for, being the first to be discussed, 
 principles are evolved equally affecting all the elegant arts, 
 and a rejDetition was to be studiously avoided in a work of this 
 descrij)tion ; and, for the same reason, only those forms of 
 architecture have been considered that developed some new 
 principle, or exhibited some new feature in good taste and of 
 practical importance. 
 
 The field of Art is of such boundless extent, and the topics 
 inviting consideration are so numerous and attractive, that it 
 has not been found easy to limit the discussion. A vast deal 
 more might have been said, with a great diminution of labor, 
 but it would only have added to the size and cost of the 
 volume, without a corresponding advantage to the reader or the 
 student. It is believed that sufficient has been given for a 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 general understanding of the subject, and that is all that was 
 intended by the author. 
 
 Although in the course of these Essays nearly two hundred 
 aud fifty works of art in the three departments, painting, 
 architecture, and sculpture, are brought to the notice of the 
 reader, and many of them are subjected to a critical analysis, 
 yet, in view of the easy access that the public now has to 
 transcripts of most of them, through photographs and chromos, 
 it has not been thought necessary that engravings of many of 
 them should accompany the volume, — the work having been 
 so prepared as to be intelligible without them. The few, 
 however, that are given, with the exception of those relating to 
 architecture, are from works of rare excellence but little known 
 to the mass; and although necessarily on a limited scale, to 
 conform to the size of the volume, yet being from the burin of 
 Joseph Andrews, Esq., one of the most distinguished of modern 
 engravers, they cannot but present much of the extraordinary 
 merits of the gi'eat originals by Michael Augelo, Raphael, 
 Titian, and Repabrandt. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 Page 
 
 Personal Beauty i 
 
 Its principles but little unierstfcd ; reasons for this ; many theo- 
 ries upon the subject ; the theory to be maintained in the present 
 essay ; Agassiz's theory of the origin of the human species ; Dar- 
 win's theory ; these theories examined ; the Apollo Belvedere, Venus 
 de Medici, and other Greek statues ; writers on beauty divided into 
 two classes, the essential difference between them, what is true 
 and what is false in each ; utility (as vulgarly defined) not to be 
 considered an element of beautj'^ ; beauty in architecture, on what 
 it is largely dependent ; on what it is chiefly dependent in the hu- 
 man figure ; essential quality of beauty and deformity; a standard 
 of beauty ; objections to, stated and refuted ; where that standard 
 is to be found ; claims of the Apollo Belvedere and Venus de Medici 
 to be considered that standard objected to ; those objections exam- 
 ined ; natural beauty and the highest type of ideal beauty the same ; 
 the phrase "perfect beauty" a general term; family and national 
 resemblances a modification of it ; the object aimed at by the Greek 
 sculptors in the Apollo and the Venus ; personal beauty divided by 
 the Greeks into two classes, examples of each ; Greek beauty ; Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds's theory in regard to it ; that theory as simplified 
 by Mr. Walker ; synopsis of the preceding discussions ; the elements 
 of beauty ; "proportion," the term explained, and the reasons why 
 it pleases stated ; bad proportion, what it results from ; proportion- 
 ate measurement of the two sexes ; "symmetry" defined and illus- 
 trated ; "simplicity',' as an element of beauty; "variety" as an 
 element of beauty ; to what extent necessary in any composition ; 
 corrective emplo}Tnent of each ; each the antidote of the other ; 
 the law that regulates their employment in its application to the 
 human figure ; lean, fat, and muscular, very young and very old 
 persons, reasons why they can never be perfectly beautiful ; period 
 
Xll CONTENTS. 
 
 of life when the human form is in its gi-eatest perfection ; violent 
 passion, its effect on human beauty ; the human form never or rarely 
 represented by the ancient Greeks as violently excited ; the agreeable 
 and the ferocious passions expressed by different lines ; what lines 
 characterize the idiot, the bear, the hog, the toad, and all other 
 ugly animals ; the two sexes, which the most beautiful ; the white, 
 the red, and the black man compared in regard to beauty of color ; 
 the elements of beauty of color in the white : reasons for the supe- 
 rior beauty of the white, as given by Sir Uvedale Price ; the entire 
 human family to be judged by the same law of beauty ; the beauty 
 of the modern Greeks not pre-eminent ; to what portion of the 
 human family is now assigned that superiority ; to what they are 
 chiefly indebted for it ; Avhy certain nations and classes are deficient 
 in beauty; the point of beauty; a compromise, or "the golden 
 mean " ; all extremes imply defects ; much personal beauty under 
 adverse circumstances ; reasons for it ; relative value of natural and 
 artificial causes in producing beauty ; concluding remarks. 
 
 ESSAY II. 
 Different Classes of Painting 25 
 
 Number into which divided ; correspondence betAveen the highest 
 classes in painting and the highest classes in letters ; grotesque 
 painting described and illustrated ; landscape, number of divisions 
 of, and their names ; first division, description of, and rank ; second 
 division, description and example of ; method pursued by most 
 artists in gathering materials for their ideal landscapes ; historical 
 landscape, description and example of ; figures in landscape gener- 
 ally a subordinate portion of the design ; landscapes in which the 
 figures are the most important portion of the composition ; for what 
 purpose the landscape is introduced in such designs ; great difficulty 
 in combining landscape and figures ; third division of landscape de- 
 scribed and illustrated by example ; portraiture ; its high rank 
 under certain conditions ; allegoric painting ; parallel between and 
 written allegory; examples of allegoric painting; difference between 
 and syjnbolic painting ; epic painting ; ejnc poetry described, and 
 wherein it differs from the drama and history ; criticism on the Iliad 
 by Fuseli ; characteristics of epic painting same as those of epic 
 poetry ; Michael Angelo's grand series of epic designs in the Sistine 
 Chapel ; the story told by it, as first read by Fuseli ; Michael An 
 gelo tlie inventor of epic painting; the title it obtained for its 
 author; dramatic painting; characteristics of, and wherein it differs 
 
CONTENTS. Xlll 
 
 from dramatic and liistoric painting ; example of dramatic paint- 
 ing ; who most excelled in it, and the title he acquired bj^ it ; 
 historic painting ; portraiture sometimes historic ; example of ; 
 pure historic painting described ; what pictorial illustrations en- 
 titled to be called historical ; to what class in letters delineations 
 of subordinate events in history correspond ; combined historic 
 and allegoric painting, example of ; combined historic and dra- 
 matic painting, example of ; the different effect upon the hu- 
 man mind, feelings, and sentiments produced by the different 
 classes of painting ; not many pure epic, dramatic, and historic 
 paintings ; necessary to know the features of each to admire with 
 discrimination and judge rightly of the merits of the liigher pro- 
 ductions of art. 
 
 ESSAY III. 
 Intention 44 
 
 Constituent portions of painting ; their names and the rank of 
 invention in art ; examples of the highest exercise of it ; under 
 what heads to be considered ; selection of a subject ; importance of 
 having one ; many paintings of great reputation have none ; exam- 
 ple of ; Avhat is required in every complete painting ; many scenes, 
 although well described, do not admit of pictorial delineation ; 
 what subjects most fitting for representation on canvas ; sources 
 from which subjects were generally selected by the early Italian 
 masters ; sources from whence modern art derives them ; differ- 
 ence between the two sources, and what it indicates ; the bounda- 
 ries of art extended by the moderns ; examples of paintings whose 
 subjects were not drawn from any foreign source, that is, not from 
 any written record ; examples of paintings whose subjects as Avell 
 as the materials of the composition were invented or original ; ex- 
 tent of the inventive faculty in art ; examples of ; centaurs and 
 satyrs, elves and fairies, wizards and witches, ghosts and hobgoblins, 
 sylphs and naiads, mermaids, cherubs, angels, and demons ; the 
 Divine Being, representations of ; examples of paintings whose sub- 
 jects are not fully described, only hinted or briefly mentioned by 
 some writers ; " Titania's Court," by Allston ; *' Dinner at Page's 
 House," by Leslie ; point of time most fitting for representation ; 
 examples illustrating it ; events of different periods not to be repre- 
 sented on the same canvas ; notable example of offence against this 
 law of art ; " The Transfiguration." 
 
XIV CONTENTS. 
 
 ESSAY IV. 
 Composition 54 
 
 Like invention a purely mental operation ; to be considered first, 
 as to the manner of filling the canvas to render it agreeable to the 
 eye without reference to the subject ; second, to assist expression by 
 preserving a correspondence between the arrangement of the mate- 
 rials and the sentiment of the subject ; influences that attach to 
 certain lines ; comparison of Egyptian with Grecian sculptures in 
 illustration thereof ; superior beauty of the latter ; what it results 
 from ; variety, its ofiice and value in composition ; characterizes 
 every part of it ; must not be carried to excess ; its corrective sim- 
 plicity ; the proportionate quantity of each in a composition regu- 
 lated by the sentiment of the subject ; this illustrated by two 
 ancient Greek sculptures ; the principles on which they were con- 
 structed both proper and natural : those principles explained and 
 applied to painting ; paintings illustrative of a correspondence be- 
 tween the composition and sentiment of the subject ; most of the 
 Madonnas examples of; Madonnas and other paintings in which 
 this rule is not observed ; evils resulting therefrom ; Evangelists by 
 Domenichino compared with representations of the same subjects by 
 Michael Angelo ; in the works of Eaphael a correspondence gener- 
 ally between the composition and the sentiment of the subject ; two 
 lost cartoons, "The Resurrection" and "The Ascension," remarka- 
 ble examples of ; " The Marriage at Cana," by Paul Veronese, a no 
 less notable example of offence against this requirement ; Avhat Paul 
 Veronese aimed at in that representation ; how it would have been 
 represented by Da Vinci or Raphael. 
 
 ESSAY V. 
 
 Design, or Drawing 62 
 
 The third of the component parts of the art and the most im- 
 portant ; to be, like composition, considered under two heads, 
 appropriate and correct design ; method generally pursued by 
 artists in painting a picture ; the use of the model. Tinder Avhat 
 circumstances to be closely followed .and when not ; misuse of the 
 model ; many examples illustrative of it from old Italian and mod- 
 ern art in both painting and sculpture ; the evil resulting from such 
 misuse in delineations of historical subjects ; the proper use of the 
 model pointed out by Mr. Allston and illustrated in "La Belle 
 Jardiniere " by Raphael ; the object aimed at by Raphael in his rep- 
 
CONTENTS. XV 
 
 resentation of ''The Holy Family," and by Da Vinci in "The Last 
 Supper," and how far they accomplished it ; the painter of history 
 to be governed by the same laws as the writer of it ; the proper use 
 of the model, where the real actors in the scene cannot be procured, 
 illustrated by what is required of the personators of the drama ; 
 what is said upon this subject applicable whether the historical fact 
 or only the sentiment of it is to be delineated ; most historical paint- 
 ings in one respect only a pretence ; not conformable to the written 
 record ; the cause of this ; rules deducible from what has been ad- 
 vanced applicable to many classes of painting. 
 
 Correct design or drawing ; the term defined ; one of the greatest 
 tUftieulties in art ; small advance in the knowledge of it until the 
 fourteenth century ; first improvement manifest in the works of 
 Masaccio and his contemporaries ; brought to perfection by Da 
 Vinci, JM. Angelo, and Eaphael; Michael Angelo's style of design, 
 objected to by some, objections refuted; Eaphael's style of design, 
 its peculiar characteristics ; Titian's style of design ; Correggio's 
 style ; perfection in design in Greek sculptures ; these the classics 
 in art ; advantages resulting from the study of them ; in what re- 
 spects better than nature ; totally neglected by the Dutch, Flem- 
 ish, and Venetian schools ; Poussin, his study of the antique 
 sculptures ; David's style of design ; Raphael and Allston. 
 
 ESSAY VI. 
 
 Chiaro-Oscueo 75 
 
 The terra explained and its several offices pointed out ; natural 
 light and darkness ; their influence upon the feelings and sentiments ; 
 the same impressions result from the employment of light and 
 shadow in art ; the reasons for it ; how the mind gets to be im- 
 pressed with the ideas of solidity and concavity, squareness and 
 roundness, nearness, distance, and space in the natural Avorld ; how 
 and why in art ; general light and shadow as distinguished from a 
 particular light and shadow ; the office and value of each illustrated 
 by the two drawings of the same bunch of gi-apes ; the value of a 
 general light and shade still further illustrated by comparing the 
 painting of "The "Woman accused in the Synagogue" with that of 
 " The School of Athens," the former by Eembrandt, the latter by 
 Raphael ; general light and shadow productive of great breadth 
 and picturesque effect ; can render attractive works deficient in 
 every other good quality of art ; examples of, in the Plemish and 
 Dutch schools, and the later works of Danby and Martin, English 
 
XVI CONTEXTS. 
 
 painters ; the light and shade nnder which objects in nature are com- 
 monly viewed not always the best for pictorial representation ; there 
 may be a selection in this respect as in every other part of the art ; 
 truth of light and shade not always satisfactory ; this illustrated by 
 comparing a view taken by a daguerreotype with an idealized view 
 by a competent artist ; not always easy to obtain masses of light 
 and dark ; violent contrasts of light and dark, their use in giving 
 expression, example of ; the brightest light, its place in a composi- 
 tion ; number of lights required and the degree of each. 
 
 Correspondence between the lights and shades or lights and darks 
 and the sentiment of the subject ; this not always easy to be accom- 
 plished, every subject requiring a different treatment, one peculiar 
 to itself; examples illustrating a correspondence, "The Nativity," 
 by Correggio, "The Ecce Homo" and "Appearance to the Shep- 
 herds," by Rembrandt ; the employment of a general light and 
 shadow for effect and to give expression a comparatively modern 
 invention ; first seen in the works of Da Vinci ; Da Vinci called its 
 inventor ; the employment of them perfected in the works of Cor- 
 reggio and Rembrandt ; some powerful effects of, in the Avorks of 
 Michael Angelo and Raphael, but not recognized by them as a prin- 
 ciple of imitation ; the chiaro-oscuro of Correggio and Rembrandt 
 compared ; the chiaro-oscuro of the Venetian school ; the difference 
 in this respect as compared with that of the Lombard and Dutch 
 schools ; Rembrandt's attractive and repulsive qualities as an artist. . 
 
 ESSAY VII. 
 Color 88 
 
 The most enchanting but, for the general purposes of imitation, 
 the least essential, of the constituent portions of the art : its real 
 rank and value stated ; terms employed in discussions on this sub- 
 ject enumerated and explained ; different influences attached to col- 
 ors, the dis]">osition of colors in accordance therewith ; Avhen this 
 arrangement may be departed from, as in the painting of " The 
 Scourging of Christ " by Titian ; aerial perspective defined, and its 
 effects in causing objects in a painting to appear to be near or re 
 mote ; evil effects from neglecting aerial perspective ; highest light 
 and deepest shadow, their effect on local color. 
 
 Harmony of color ; Mr. West's theory in regard to the mode of 
 producing it ; liow produced by tone ; how by reflection ; how 
 produced by balance of colors ; examples illusti-ating each mode ; 
 harmony more complete when all act unitedly ; the great value 
 
CONTENTS. XV 11 
 
 of harmony of colors ; breadth of color ; its basis and manner of 
 producing breadth ; of greater value wlien united to harmony ; 
 may exist without it ; these points illustrated by several examjjles ; 
 the iris ; " Bacchus and Ariadne " by Titian ; continuity of color; 
 what it consists in ; its value in producing breadth and union. 
 
 Correspondence between the colors of a picture and the senti- 
 ment ; several examples illustrating it ; evils resulting from the 
 neglect of ; a correspondence between the colors employed and the 
 sentiment of the subject, illustrated by the analogies of language 
 and music ; on what the power of language depends ; tones ; the 
 language of nature ; different tones or modulations of the voice 
 employed to express different feelings, passions, and sentiments ; 
 Gardner's "Music of Nature " ; three parts to the human voice, 
 their names, place from whence they spring, and purpose ; what 
 langiiage requires to be effective ; why Mr. Burke failed in his 
 speech on the trial of Warren Hastings ; in music a correspondence 
 between the tones employed and the sentiments of the subjects ; 
 the eye governed by the same laws as the ear ; different colors affect 
 the eye and the feelings as do different tones in music ; evil efiects 
 where a correspondence between them is neglected, in both painting 
 and music ; Salvator Eosa, his manner in every constituent portion 
 of the art. 
 
 Certain popular errors in regard to what constitutes good col- 
 oring ; first, too great relief ; second, glare ; third, high finish ; ^ 
 the evils of each pointed out and illustrated by examples ; Mr. 
 Allston at the Royal Academy Exhibition ; three styles in laying on 
 the colors ; which to be preferred ; Michael Angelo's, Raphael's, 
 Titian's, and Con^eggio's style, with the styles of the other leading 
 masters ; Gilbert Stuart Newton, Esq. ; his excellence as a color- 
 ist ; Sir Joshua Re>Tiolds attempts to discover the manner of Titian ; 
 why he did not find it ; where he should have looked for it ; con- 
 clusion in regard to it. 
 
 ESSAY VIII. 
 Da Vinci, Michael Angelo, and Raphael . . . .110 
 
 Da Vinci. 
 
 Tlie five great masters ; favorable condition of the world at 
 the time of their appearance ; Cimabue, Giotto, Masaccio, Signo- 
 relli, connecting link between the old style and the new ; no 
 artist more generally known to the public than Leonardo da Vinci ; 
 by what painting best known ; his parentage, and early love of 
 
XVlll CONTENTS. 
 
 art ; birth, career, and death ; his vast acquirements ; foreshadowed 
 almost every improvement in art and science ; prominent charac- 
 teristics of ; " The Battle of the Standard " ; "The Last Supper " ; 
 extende.d the field of art, and added one important feature to its 
 technical department ; before his appearance art deficient in pictu- 
 resque effect ; imitated by his contemporaries and successors ; ridi- 
 culed unjustly by the biogi-apher of Michael Angelo ; in what supe- 
 rior to Michael Angelo ; in what excelled by him ; connected paint- 
 ing with the science of anatomy and prepared the w&y for Michael 
 Angelo. 
 
 Michael Axgelo. 
 
 His parentage, birth, and early education ; his first instructor ; 
 his first patron ; visit to Rome, and what he did there to estab- 
 lish his character as a great artist ; his return to Florence, and 
 employment there ; " Battle of Pisa " ; statues of " Day and 
 Night " ; his second visit to Rome, for what purpose ; Julius 
 11. ; tomb of the Medici ; statue of Moses ; St. Peter's Church, 
 origin of ; Bramante ; Michael Angelo invited by Julius II, 
 to adorn the walls of the Sistine Chapel ; the invitation ac- 
 cepted ; his slight knowledge of painting when he commenced the 
 task ; makes the drawings for, and endeavors to get them colored 
 by other artists ; their failure to satisfy him ; he accomplishes the 
 entire series himself in twenty-two months, " The Last Judgment" 
 not included ; subjects of the series ; few oil paintings by him ; the 
 figure of Lazarus said to be the only one ; easy to distinguish the 
 true from the false ; characteristics of his style ; Michael Angelo 
 not always understood ; a cultivated taste necessary to appreciate 
 him fully ; his peculiar style ; what it resulted from ; influence of 
 particular lines ; what Mr. Addison says upon the subject ; the 
 prophets "Jonah," "Moses," Jeremiah"; impressions made by 
 his works different from those made by the works of Raphael ; not 
 to be judged from engravings ; must be seen in the Sistine Chapel ; 
 the compliment paid him by Raphael. 
 
 Raphael. 
 
 His parentage, birth, and first teacher ; not a forward scholar ; 
 his first visit to Florence ; his return to Perugia ; pictures there 
 painted by him, and the present possessors of them ; his second 
 visit to Florence ; some of his best works then executed ; subjects of 
 the most celebrated ; invited by Julius II. to visit Rome, to adorn 
 certain rooms in the Vatican ; accepts the task ; names of the fres- 
 coes, and what the series illustrates; "The Transfiguration," and 
 other paintings ; his early death ; the impression that event made 
 
CONTENTS. XIX 
 
 on Italy ; his burial and the place of his interment ; the name of his 
 betrothed and the reason why he was nev.er married ; the number of 
 his paintings and drawing*; "The Transfiguration, " by whom 
 completed ; his rank as a painter ; his department of art different 
 from that of Michael Angelo ; therefore not to be compared to- 
 gether ; each to be judged by different laws ; each first in his own 
 department ; in that, perhaps, never to be excelled ; new field to be 
 sought by modern artists. 
 
 fISSAY IX. 
 
 Titian and Correggio 128 
 
 Titian. 
 
 Simultaneous appearance of authors and artists distinguished for 
 their parts and genius ; as in Greece so in Italy, in the case of the 
 great masters ; the Venetian school, who most prominent in it ; its 
 greatest ornament Titian ; his birth, and with whom he studied ; 
 the great honors paid him ; his great age, industry, and great num- 
 ber of works executed by him ; the most noted of his larger produc- 
 tions ; the most attractive of his smaller ; the kind of work on which 
 he was generally employed ; his ability as a draughtsman questioned 
 by Michael Angelo ; no certain grounds to doubt his ability as a de- 
 signer ; unsurpassed as a colorist ; reduced to system what before 
 had been practised at random ; his particular improvements, and 
 their vast importance and value to art ; to fully comprehend them 
 we must know the previous and subsequent history of art ; Sir 
 Joshua RejTiolds's estimate of him ; no original work of Titian in 
 the United States ; Titian's illness and death. 
 
 Correggio. 
 
 Less known of his birth, life, and death than of any other great 
 artist ; improbable story of the cause of his death ; something 
 wondrous always related of men of genius ; reasons for it ; Correg- 
 gio's birthplace ; his first teacher ; never visited Rome ; had very 
 little if any acquaintance with Michael Angelo, Da Vinci, Titian, or 
 Raphael ; his death and place of burial ; the burial-places of the 
 other four fathers of the art ; the grandest of his performances at 
 Parma in the cathedral ; the subjects of them ; the most attractive 
 of his smaller productions ; all his works, large and small, have the 
 same characteristics ; enumeration of them ; his peculiar character- 
 istic, that on which rests his fame as an artist ; the principle of 
 that characteristic regulated every portion of his art ; the merit of 
 
XX CONTENTS. 
 
 the invention to be divided between him and Da Vinci ; the princi- 
 ple generally adopted ; Reynolds a follower and imitator of him ; 
 both followers of nature ; some defects attributed to Correggio's 
 style ; only dust on a diamond ; each of the live great masters supe- 
 rior in some great quality of art, but deficient in others ; what each 
 excelled in ; the Bologna school under the Caracci attempted to 
 Unite the better parts of each ; reasons why they failed ; how they 
 "might have been successful ; summary of the progress of art, and 
 of the peculiar qualities of each of the five great founders. 
 
 ESSAY X 
 English and French Art 137 
 
 The Natural School. 
 
 English art under the presidency of Reynolds, West, and Law- 
 rence ; and French art of the school of David *' under the empire" ; 
 no native painter of eminence in England previous to Hogarth ; 
 foreign painters of great merit in abundance ; reasons for the inferi- 
 ority of native talent ; equally illustrate a similar condition of art 
 in any other country ; Hogarth's first appearance ; Reynolds and his 
 contemporaries, their great merit as a school ; some notice of the 
 Pre-Raphaelite school ; its claims to pre-eminence discussed and 
 refuted ; Reynolds the nominal, Hogarth the real, founder of the 
 English school. 
 
 Hogarth. 
 
 Difference of opinion in regard to Hogarth's merits ; reasons that 
 give rise to it ; what we propose to do for him ; what we first 
 claim for him ; the first to practise satirical painting ; an inventor 
 and a genius like Shakespeare, and like him to be judged by his own 
 law, and not by the law of the Italian masters, except as regards 
 the mechanical part of the art ; what Hogarth aimed at ; what the 
 Italian masters aimed at ; no claim to be considered an historical 
 painter in the common acceptation of the term ; did not study the 
 old masters ; no necessity for doing it ; commissioned by the Al- 
 mighty to introduce a new branch of art ; his success in doing it ; 
 the national painter of England, as Shakespeare was the national 
 poet ; their fame equally to endure. 
 
 WiLKIE. 
 
 The painter of "The Blind Fiddler," "Duncan Gray," "Cut 
 Finger," "Letter of Introduction" ; in some respects resembling 
 
CONTENTS. xxi 
 
 Hogarth ; attempt by John Burnett in his "Life of ReynoUls" to 
 elevate Wilkie at Hogarth's expense ; rebuked by Blackwood for it ; 
 the reasons assigned by Burnett for Hogarth's supposed inferiority ; 
 those reasons considered and refuted ; what Burnett says of Wilkie's 
 productions equally applicable to the works of Hogarth ; Hogarth 
 local only in his costume ; like Wilkie, general in the representation 
 of character and the passions ; his delineations find representatives 
 in all times and in all nations ; equally strike home to the feelings of 
 every people ; examples of this, and reasons for it ; Wilkie's indebt- 
 edness to Hogarth ; real ditlerence between Wilkie and Hogarth ; 
 wherein both differed from the Dutch and Flemish painters ; Ho- 
 garth a pioneer ; discovered a new country ; Wilkie a cultivator of 
 it ; Hogarth composed a new air, Wilkie added variations. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds. 
 
 His great popularity as a man as well as an artist; peculiar causes 
 for it ; his lectures on art ; does not hold a high rank as an histori- 
 cal painter ; his best works in that department ; those in which he 
 failed ; his portrait of Mrs. Siddons as "The Tragic Muse" ; what 
 Lawrence said of it ; Reynolds a great student of the works of 
 Michael Angelo ; influence on his style ; visits the Vatican ; portrait-' 
 painting raised by him from the real to the ideal ; represented the 
 mental as well as the physical characteristics of his sitter ; por- 
 trayed many phases of the same passion and sentiment ; examples 
 of ; Lord Heathfield and Commodore Keppel ; all the accessories of 
 his portraits in keeping wdth the character represented ; very suc- 
 cessful in portra3nng the high-bred women of England ; successful 
 in the painting of children ; happy idea in regard to them ; wherein 
 it differed from the old practice ; Reynolds's aim in a portrait differ- 
 ent from that of ordinary painters ; studies resemblance in the air 
 and attitudes equally as in the features ; his rank as compared with 
 that of Lawrence ; in what each most excelled ; his present fame as 
 great now as when he was living ; no greater portrait-painter since 
 Van Dyck. 
 
 Sir Benjamin AVest. 
 
 Former high estimate of him, and present depression ; his birth ; 
 place of nativity ; visit to England, and election as President of the 
 Royal Academy ; contemporary and rival of David, founder of the 
 French school under Napoleon ; West's great attachment to the 
 United States ; feelings of respect and veneration with which we 
 undertake to discuss his merits as an artist ; by what paintings best 
 known in the United States ; difficult for Americans to understand 
 
XXll CONTENTS. 
 
 the present low estimate of him in Europe ; his fall as remarkable 
 as his elevation ; what merits the transatlantic critics concede to 
 him ; what are now considered to have been his defects ; causes as- 
 signed for this great chiange of opinion ; opinion of German critics 
 in regard to it ; that opinion not well founded ; real causes for it 
 Stated ; some of them peculiar to a monarchical government ; some 
 of them personal ; popularity or unpopularity no decisive proof of 
 merit or demerit; West's great painting of "Christ healing the 
 Sick," after his decease hung in the National Gallery by the side of 
 **' The Raising of Lazarus" by Michael Angelo and Sebastiano del 
 Piombo ; the contrast fatal to his reputation as a delineator of scrip- 
 tural subjects ; his earlier efforts on unscripti(.ral subjects had great 
 and acknowledged merit at the time they were painted ; their 
 reputation now equally great ; his scriptural delineations unsur- 
 passed at the time by any contemporary effort in the same class on 
 the Continent ; at present sunk in the public estimation below his 
 real merits ; destined one day to resume a position justly due liim 
 as a great artist ; reason for this opinion. 
 
 The Affected School. 
 
 The French ScJwol under the Empire. 
 
 David. 
 
 The painter of the horrible ; lived in troublous times, and caught 
 his inspirations from the surroundings ; the court painter under 
 Napoleon ; by what works best known in the United States ; the 
 rival and contemporary of West, and founder of the extravagant 
 or affected school ; this school not to be confounded with that 
 which preceded it, the school of Poussin, Le Sueur, Greuze, Claude, 
 Joseph Vernet; that school founded on the principles of general 
 nature ; certain principles of expression and attitude implanted 
 in man at creation ; those principles a guide to coiTect imita- 
 tion ; any exaggeration of them unnatural, untrue, and affected ; 
 French art of the school of David, a transcript of French man- 
 ners of that i)eriod ; it pleased the French people, but not gen- 
 erally other nations ; reasons for this ; Voltaire's remarks bear- 
 ing upon this point ; the great Italian painters worked on general 
 principles ; had nothing local in their mode of representation ; the 
 ancient Greeks the same ; also Shakespeare, and all great dramat- 
 ists, and therefore universally admired ; portrait of child by Van 
 Dyck in which eveiy one sees a resemblance to some child of their 
 acquaintance ; reason for this its truth to nature ; child's nature 
 
CONTENTS. XXlll 
 
 the same everywhere in expression, attitude, gesture ; nature some- 
 times obliterated by education ; two paintings of "The Deluge" 
 compared, one by Poussin, the other by Girodet ; the first an exam- 
 ple of the natural, the other of the affected school ; description of 
 the two designs by Mrs. Jameson ; great artists in France under the 
 Empire contemporary with the David school not followers of his 
 style ; Paul de la Roche and others, their works a proof of this ; the 
 present French school very distinguished ; this country once deluged 
 with works from the school of David ; their influence on the public 
 taste pernicious ; still have some influence in our smaller schools of 
 instruction ; artists themselves shun them now as formerly, and 
 study the Greek sculptures ; they are the classics in art, and hold 
 in ait a place corresponding to that of the classics in letters ; in 
 forming a correct taste in poetry, necessary to commence by read- 
 ing the old English poets ; in forming a correct taste in art, must 
 begin by studying the old Greek and Italian masters ; the evil re- 
 sulting from the neglect of. 
 
 II 
 
 ESSAY XL 
 Sculpture 163 
 
 Carried to the utmost perfection by the Greeks ; not known if 
 they equally excelled in painting ; whether they were inferior to 
 or surpassed the Italian masters ; other nations may at some time 
 or other excel them in another class, but not in the class of aesthetic 
 sculpture ; the period of its greatest success ; the name most prom- 
 inent in the early history of the art ; a long time before the art 
 reached its greatest excellence ; reasons for it ; the chief occurrences 
 in the history of early Greece ; what gave a beginning to the third 
 great monarchy of the world ; the destruction of the Persian army 
 under Xerxes, its eff'ect upon the Grecian character and particularly 
 on art and science ; sculpture, its appearance at this auspicious pe- 
 riod in the school of Phidias ; the destruction of the city and cita- 
 del of Athens a fortunate circumstance for art ; its connection with 
 the rebuilding of temples of superior beauty under the reign of Per- 
 icles and superintendence of Phidias ; the founding of a library at 
 Athens, and the works of Homer ; the influence of these works on 
 sculpture ; Phidias the first to avail himself of the works of Homer 
 in connection Avith sculpture and the gods of Greece ; his contempo- 
 raries and fellow-workers in the great reform ; the temple of Mi- 
 inerv'a and other buildings on the Acropolis ; Phidias, Ictinus, and 
 Callicrates ; the part that each had in the work ; Phidias's knowl- 
 
XXIV CONTENTS. 
 
 edge of painting ; its benefit to him as a sculptor ; the particular 
 improvements made by him in sculpture ; Phidias settled the forms 
 of some of the gods, particularly of Jupiter and Minerva ; all the 
 forms of the other divinities in Homer settled by him and his suc- 
 cessors, not only in the period of their adult perfection, but also in 
 their infancy and youth ; the various statues of Bacchus, Apollo, 
 Minerva, and other deities ; the resemblance of the minor deities 
 dependent on nearness of relationship to the father of the gods ; cor- 
 poreal excellence also dependent on divinity ; as the character re- 
 cedes from this it acquires more and more of the animal ; examples 
 of this ; the Greek artists acted upon natural and general laws ; their 
 perfection in sculpture resulted from obedience to those la-w-^ and the 
 forms of their- mythology ; the gods of Greece ; wherein they differed 
 from those of other idolatrous nations ; in what distingiiished from 
 mortals ; perfection in art only reached by degrees ; illustrations of 
 this from painting and architecture ; same progressiveness in sculp- 
 ture ; Phidias and Michael Angelo the product of all previous art ; 
 I united effort, the benefit of; what the Greek sculptors first aimed at ; 
 their second intent, and success in both ; Apollo Belvedere and Venus 
 de Medici ; their superior beauty ; the class of beings that next to the 
 gods occupied the attention of the Greek sculptors ; the third class, 
 a class repulsive in themselves, but rendered attractive fi'om the ele- 
 gance with which they are executed ; what we miss in Greek art ; 
 what they succeeded in ; to whom it remains to fill up the gap ; 
 most of the original Greek sculptures lost ; condition of those that 
 remain ; description of the lost statues not always reliable ; names, 
 description, and characteristics of those introduced into this volume. 
 
 ESSAY Xll. 
 Grecian Architecture 183 
 
 Architecture ; the first invented of the fine arts ; the term "archi- 
 tect," whence derived ; divisions of architecture ; civil architecture ; 
 the kind of buildings included in it ; to what purposes architecture 
 first appropriated ; art divided into classes, the useful and the fine 
 arts ; a distinction without a difference ; evils arising from being so 
 classified. 
 
 Egyptian architecture ; its characteristics incidentally pointed 
 out. 
 
 Grecian arcliitecture ; the several orders of; the term " order" de- 
 fined ; the several parts of which it consists stated ; additional or- 
 ders added by the Romans ; the term employed to designate the five 
 
CONTENTS. XXV 
 
 orders as distinct from the Gothic and all other architectures ; the 
 parts of which an order is composed ranged under two heads, the 
 essential and the subservient ; the latter class the mouldings ; their 
 number, names, description of, and how appropriated. 
 
 The Doric order ; time when invented ; description of its constit- 
 uent parts, and wherein it differs from the Roman Doric ; the Ionic 
 order ; its several portions described and wherein it differs from the 
 Roman ; the Corinthian order ; description of, etc. ; Sir Roland 
 Friart's quaint description of the three orders ; pediments and 
 pedestals not necessarily included in the idea of an order ; ])edestal 
 described ; certain fixed proportions for the several parts of an or- 
 der ; everything in Greek architecture regulated by a law or canon ; 
 this not conventional, but the result of repeated experiments until 
 the right point was arrived at ; forms of Grecian temples, and 
 names deduced therefrom ; the Doric -the national order, and first 
 of the three orders used in Greece ; purpose for which it was appro- 
 priated ; purposes to which the Corinthian order was appropriated ; 
 philoso|)hical reasons for the appropriation ; architecture, painting, 
 and sculpture combined in the Doric temple ; the first subservient 
 to the two last ; form of the Doric temple ; exceptional temples of 
 this order ; the proportions of the Doric column only slightly varied 
 \)nce for centuries ; in its greatest perfection in the Parthenon ; the 
 pediments of the Doric temple ; to what use appropriated ; the 
 frieze divided into metopes and triglyphs ; advantages of the divis- 
 ion ; the cell, or sekos, or body of the temple, to what sculptures 
 appropriated ; in Doric temples a place for every kind of sculpture ; 
 Doric mouldings ; their simplicity ; portions of them and of the 
 frieze painted ; painting of marble not accordant with modern 
 ideas ; the Greeks the better judges ; the finest example of the 
 Doric order ; locality of the Parthenon ; other buildings on the 
 Acropolis; form of the Parthenon, and material of which con- 
 structed ; exterior measurement of the cell ; how the interior was 
 divided and appropriated ; sculptures of the pediment and frieze ; 
 how the Parthenon became dilapidated ; facts in regard to its struc- 
 ture revealed by scientific investigation. 
 
 Temples of the Ionic order ; greater variety in the form of than 
 in the Doric ; the most beautiful example of ; size of the Ionic 
 temples as compared with the Doric ; the latter comitaratively 
 small ; reasons for it. 
 
 Temples of the Corinthian order ; this the only order really in- 
 vented by the Greeks ; the other two adopted by them, but treated 
 with a certain Grecian feeling ; the finest specimen of this order ; 
 the Doric without painting and sculpture less beautiful than the 
 Corinthian, but with them unsurpassed. 
 
XXVI CONTENTS. 
 
 Grecian architecture characterized for grandeur, dignity, elegance, 
 and beauty ; causes whence arises the impression of ; cannot be thor- 
 oughly understood without a knowledge of certain peculiarities con- 
 nected with its history and practice ; those peculiarities stated ; in 
 what respects. Grecian architecture is inferior to the Egyptian and 
 Gothic, and in what respects it surpasses them and all other archi- 
 tecture, ancient or modern ; the philosophical reasons for this given ; 
 the result. 
 
 ESSAY XIII. 
 
 Roman Architecture 206 
 
 Roman architecture differs widely from the Greek ; wherein it 
 differs ; ornamentation carried to excess ; the arch brought into 
 general use, but not invented by them ; had the greatest influence 
 on their style of architecture ; the Roman Doric column, descrip- 
 tion of, and wherein it differs from the Greek ; the Tuscan column, 
 description of. 
 
 The composite order, how made up ; Sir Roland Friart's quaint 
 description of it and the Tuscan ; the Romans were further indebted 
 to the Greeks for the form of their temples ; the first thing they 
 borrowed ; the Corinthian order, well suited for their purposes ; 
 reasons why ; the Doric order, also borrowed, but not made much 
 account of ; reason why ; the Ionic order, not adopted by the Ro- 
 mans until a very late period ; also borrowed the peristyle form of 
 their temples ; no sijecimen of it now in Rome ; something that 
 claims to be ; wherein it differs ; the temples at Rome small in 
 dimensions ; the largest specimens were in the provinces, particu- 
 larly in Syria ; Syria to Rome what Ionia was to Greece ; temples at 
 Baalbec ; temples the most original and tj^pical ; the Pantheon ; 
 its characteristics ; its external original form ; how ruined ; the 
 Greeks and Romans both borrowed, but not in the same Avay ; dif- 
 ference in that respect ; difference in their religious and aesthetic 
 feelings ; Rome anciently adorned with buildings in their kind 
 as wonderful as any in Greece ; the Coliseum an example and 
 type of the Roman style, contains all its beauties and all its de- 
 fects ; its ruins still wonderful ; description of ; wherein the style 
 was defective ; how it might have been improved ; Eoman archi- 
 tecture ; what is most admired in it ; in what way it was often 
 spoiled ; little invention in ancient Roman art ; exception to this ; 
 to what it chiefly owes its interest ; in ancient times all the treas- 
 ures of the world poured into Rome ; in modern times almost every- 
 thing of value to be traced out of her ; the concluding scene of the 
 old, the opening one of modern civilization. 
 
CONTEXTS. XXYll 
 
 ESSAY XIV. 
 
 Gothic Architecture 212 
 
 The class of architecture the term was employed to designate 
 
 minor 
 
 how the term came to be emx)loyed ; many speculations concer 
 the origin of Gothic architecture ; all fanciful ; the real origin ; only 
 two original styles of architecture in the world ; all other styles 
 contained in the two typical styles ; what style Greek architecture 
 is the type of; what Gothic architecture is the type of; Roman 
 architecture the transition form between Greek and Gothic archi- 
 tecture ; Greek and Gothic architecture directly the opposite of 
 each other ; the characteristics of each style given at length ; few 
 changes ever made in Greek architecture ; Gothic constantly chan- 
 ging ; three styles of ; how designated ; the Early English, the 
 Decorated, and the Perpendicular ; the time when they flourished ; 
 impossible to describe the details of the three styles ; the great 
 characteristic difference, in what it consists ; the Early English, 
 its particular characteristics ; the Decorated style, its particular 
 characteristics ; general appearance of buildings of this style ; what 
 parricularly distinguishes it ; finest specimen of this style in Eng- 
 land ; the Perpendicular style ; characteristics of ; propriety of the 
 name ; what it consists in ; the entire building marked by the same 
 characteristic seen in the windows ; another peculiarity the opposite 
 of the Perpendicular ; peculiarity in the roofs ; in the fifteenth cen- 
 tury the Perpendicular the style for every kind of building ; Gothic 
 architecture in France ; its transition from one form or style to 
 another. 
 
 Tudor style of architecture ; to what style of Gothic architecture 
 applied ; number of eras of ; whence the Tudor style originated ; 
 its peculiar characteristics ; a mixed style ; cause of its introduc- 
 tion ; by whom fostered. Elizabethan style of architecture ; style 
 of the castles in England in the reign of Henry VIII. ; how modified 
 in the rime of Elizabeth ; the eff"ect of the change. Louis the Four- 
 teenth style of architecture ; like the Elizabethan a mixed style ; 
 this illustrated by the Palace at Versailles ; form of that structure ; 
 the Mansard roof ; whence it derived its name ; a beautiful inven- 
 tion. The Italian style ;, its peculiar characteristic ; examples of ; 
 Famese and Grand Duke palaces, by Michael Angelo at Florence. 
 Modem architecture ; no new principle invented by the moderns ; 
 they have made new combinations, often very beautiful and exhibit- 
 ing great powers of invention ; their gi-eatest success in domestic 
 architecture ; in the public structures less successful ; cause of this 
 not so much in the architect as in his employees ; not sufficient at- 
 
XX Vm C02^ TENTS. 
 
 tention paid by the moderns to the selection of a site ; that point 
 chiefly considered by the Greeks, and hence much of the favorable 
 impression made by their architectural efforts ; the effect of light 
 and shade on buildings not sufficiently considered, and hence great 
 disappointment ; not possible to overstate the evil resulting from 
 the neglect of these retiuirements. 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 Object aimed at in this volume ; the design a good one, even though 
 not successfully accomplished ; great ignorance of the principles 
 of art both in this country and in England ; the advance of art 
 in any country dependent not more on the artist than on the patron; 
 the standard of the former regulated by the standard of the latter, 
 the supply being in all cases governed by the demand ; too little 
 time given both in England and in the United States to learning the 
 elements of the arts ; we commence to color before we can draw ; 
 more attention given to drawing and design in both France and 
 Germany, but signs even there of coming neglect indicated by the 
 frequent use of th^ camera, and the attention given to imitation 
 of stuffs rather than to acquiring a knowledge of the human form 
 as acted upon by the mind and the affections ; not so with the old 
 Italians, and hence their superiority in art representations ; excel- 
 lence in art always implies labor in the preparation for it ; that labor 
 properly bestowed necessarily leads to favorable results ; the mod- 
 erns cannot repeat what they have done ; they can apply the princi- 
 ples they have discovered to new combinations, and thus benefit 
 those who come after as they have been benefited by those who 
 have preceded them. 
 
 Terms used in ARcniTEcxuRE 227 
 
 Catalogue of Works of Art to which reference is made in 
 
 THIS volume 232 
 
 General Index 241 
 
DESCRJPTION OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The Angel Raphael, by Raphael. 
 
 The original of the above-named ilhistration constitutes a portion of a 
 painting now and for a long time in Madrid ; but whether it belongs to the 
 Spanish government or is the property of some fortunate individual, it 
 doubtless is one of the finest conceptions of a master whose leading charac- 
 teristic is expression. 
 
 Those who are familiar with Paradise Lost need not be reminded that 
 Raphael is the name of the angel selected by the Almighty to announce to 
 Adam Satan's intention to deceive him. T]ie description therein given of 
 the person of this "favorite and most beautiful of the angelic host," of his 
 departure from the gates of Heaven "on golden hinges turning," his 
 downward progress through the sky, passing between worlds on worlds, 
 until at last he alights on the eastern cliffs of Paradise, is surpassed by 
 nothing in the poem, and finds a parallel only in the work of the painter. 
 Of course Raphael was not at all indebted to Milton for anything in his 
 delineation, as the painter preceded the poet ; but if Milton ever saw the 
 painting, it is not difficult to conceive that he may have derived somewhat 
 of his inspiration from Eaphael, as it is impossible for any one with a 
 poetic turn of mind to contemplate even for a moment so divine a work, 
 and not imbibe something of that sublime feeling that gave birth to the 
 original in the mind of its author. 
 
 There was nothing in which the old Italian painters more excelled than 
 in their delineations of the heavenly messengers, and no human eifort has 
 so contributed to keep up the idea of a connection between that world and 
 this. If there be such existences "around the throne," and they are per- 
 mitted to visit this earth, may it not be that for some kind and wise pur- 
 pose one of these heavenly messengers revealed himself to the "rapt 
 vision " of Raphael ? 
 
 The Paisixg of Lazarus. 
 
 The joint production of Michael Anrjelo and Sebastiano del Piomho. The design 
 by the former, the paintwfj by the latter, excepting the figure of Lazarus, 
 painted by Michael Angelo himself. 
 
 This great work was executed for Julio de ^Medici, Bishop of Narbonne, 
 afterwards Clement VII. ; then became the property of the Duke of Or- 
 
XXX DESCEIPTION OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 leans, at the sale of whose gallery in 1794 it was purchased by an English 
 gentleman, Mr. Angerstein, and on his decease in 1824 it was bought by 
 the British government, and now forms the greatest attraction among the 
 many valuable works of art in the National Gallery, London. Mr. Beck- 
 ford, the author of Vathek, once offered Mr. Angerstein a hundred thou- 
 sand dollars for it, but it was not accepted. We mention the fact, not as 
 a measure of its value, for the price paid for a painting is not a criterion by 
 which to estimate its merits, certainly not of one so unique as this. 
 
 The original, although not of the same form, covers about as much can- 
 vas as *' The Transfiguration," by Eaphael, in competition with which it is 
 said to have been painted. They both represent the same idea, namely, 
 ** Christ as the Son of God and the Son of "Man," the executor of Divine 
 power and the reliever of human misery. 
 
 Sir Charles Bell, the celebrated English surgeon and anatomist, at the 
 time it was placed in the above institution severely criticised the figure of 
 Lazarus as not presenting any marks of previous illness, forgetting that 
 this apparent condition of the ^ody at the moment of restoration may have 
 been regarded by the painter as a part of the miracle. 
 
 When once viewing this painting, in company with a then classmate, 
 and now perhaps the first of English sculptors, John Bell, I had my atten- 
 tion drawn by him to an appearance of gi-eater vitality in that part of 
 the figure of Lazarus nearest Christ. This may have been only a happy 
 conceit on the part of my friend, for I cannot, after the lapse of forty years, 
 say whether my own observation confirmed the statement. 
 
 No one who has ever seen the painting can for a moment doubt that it 
 is a great composition, and the figure of Lazarus a remarkable conception. 
 Charles Lamb, in Elia, speaks of it as one "transcending which the world 
 has nothing to show of the preternatural in the Avhole circle of art." "It 
 seems," continues Lamb, " a thing between two beings : a ghostly horror 
 of itself struggles with newly apprehended gratitude for second life be- 
 stowed ; it cannot foi-get that it was a ghost ; it has hardly felt that it has 
 a body ; it has a story to tell from the world of spirits." 
 
 This is the painting that finally destroyed Mr. West's great reputation 
 as a successful delineator of scriptural subjects, when, after his decease, 
 what was once considered his master effort in that department, "Christ 
 healing the Sick," was hung in the National Gallery by the side of this 
 amazing production of Michael Angelo. 
 
 A Head from a Painting in the Louvre, by Titian. 
 
 If Raphael excelled in the delineation of divine beauty, no one of the 
 old masters surpassed Titian in the representation of that of earth. And 
 of all his efforts of the kind we know of none that exceeds the beauty of 
 the original painting from which this was taken. 
 
DESCRIPTION OF ILLUSTRATIONS. XXXI 
 
 The ancient Greeks had their celestial and their earthly beauties, — the 
 first of which found its representation in the "Venus Urania" by Phidias, 
 the last in the " Venus de Medici" by Cleomenes. Whether the statue of 
 the former is now in existence we know not ; we have never seen even a 
 drawing of it, and cannot therefore tell whether its celestial beauty was 
 in the general form of the figure, or the head, or the expression, or all 
 unitedly. But by comparing this head with that of the Angel Raphael, or 
 the head of any of the best of the Madonnas, we can easily understand in 
 what celestial beauty consisted in Christian art. 
 
 Culture and refinement of thought and feeling may give beauty to a face 
 of almost any form, and spirituality may illumine it to a point of celestial 
 brightness ; but the inner harmony will always receive an added beauty 
 when accompanied by an harmonious proportion of the outward form. 
 
 The original of this illustration is said to be a portrait of Titian's wife. 
 In the painting she is represented looking into a mirror held by the artist. 
 If it be a true resemblance of her, with such a source of inspiration con- 
 stantly before him we can readily understand how so many visions of beauty 
 came to be mirrored forth by the great Venetian master from the reflecting 
 canvas. 
 
 The Woman accused in the Synagogue, by Rembrandt. 
 
 The painting represented by this illustration belongs to the British gov- 
 ernment, and among the cabinet pictures in the National Gallery holds the 
 same high rank which "The Raising of Lazarus" does among the larger ones. 
 It is the most characteristic work of an artist "around whose pencil floated 
 mystery and silence, and to whom all that was great, striking, and uncom- 
 mon in the scenery of nature was familiar." The magic power of chiaro- 
 oscuro here exhibited is very wonderful, and finds its equal only in the 
 "Del Xotte," or "Nativity," by Correggio, in which composition all the 
 light emanates from the person of the infant Saviour, which is self-lumin- 
 ous like a glowworm. No other design with which we are acquainted 
 better represents the value of masses of light and shadow in ^ving 
 breadth and picturesque eff"ect to a composition than does this great work 
 of Rembrandt. 
 
 Titian's Bunch of Grapes. 
 
 So called from its being the model suggested by him for an effective man- 
 agement of light and dark in a painting. Although to the eye this is a very 
 humble illustration, yet it involves a great principle, namely, that which 
 regards the employment of a general light and shadow to give beauty and 
 effect to an object or clusters of objects in addition to the particular ligM 
 and shade by which objects both in nature and art are made out to the eye, 
 and without which nothing would be visible in the world about us. No. 1 
 
XXXll DESCRIPTION OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 is an example of a drawing made only with the particular light and 
 shadow, such as falls on each object in a cloudy day. No. 2 is an exam- 
 ple of a drawing with a general light and shadow added, such as falls on 
 objects in a sunshiny day, or by candle or fire light, illuminating oue 
 portion and leaving the other portion in comparative darkness. In both 
 the Kembrandt and in this drawing of the Bunch of Grapes the lights and 
 shadow^s are in masses, but they result from different causes. In the Rem- 
 brandt the ordinary light is probably admitted through a window or Avin- 
 dows, or .some other opening, or it is a candle-light illumination. In either 
 case the light is interrupted by some intervening objects, and the result is 
 what we see, namely, large masses of light and shadow. In the Bunch of 
 Grapes the masses are produced as before stated. Of the two draAvings of 
 the Bunch of Grapes there can be no doubt which is the more picturesque, 
 and they illustrate by comparison the value of a general light and shadow 
 in a composition to give breadth and effect. 
 
 The several Orders of Classic Architecture. 
 
 To understand at all the subject of Grecian and Roman architecture, it 
 becomes necessary for us to know not only the general form of the several 
 orders, but likewise to be acquainted with the essential and also Avith the 
 less imposing parts of Avhich those orders are composed, namely, the 
 mouldings. And a knowledge of the several forms of mouldings, their 
 special use, and the place which they are intended to occupy, will appear 
 the more necessary when we have found out that they are the great source 
 of beauty in every architectural arrangement, and that without them any 
 building, however well proportioned, would be bald, monotonous, and 
 shorn of a large portion of that which attracts, exercises, and satisfies tlie 
 beholder. Therefore the reader pursuing the subject of architecture should 
 not neglect acquiring a knowledge of the details of the orders. 
 
 The three Styles of Gothic Windows. 
 
 These windows by their different forms give a general idea of the differ- 
 ence of style that characterized the three eras of Gothic architecture : 
 the Early English, which was bald, simple, and mean ; the Decorated, 
 which was varied and ornamental ; and the Perpendicular, which changed 
 the curved and beautiful lines of the Decorated to straight and perpendicu- 
 lar lines, and to such a degree throughout the exterior and interior of the 
 ornamented portion of the entire building as to give an appropriateness 
 to the name for that style and era of Gothic architecture. 
 
ART: 
 
 ITS LAWS, AND THE REASONS FOR THEM. 
 
 ESSAY I. 
 
 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 AMONG the many interesting topics that present them- 
 selves for consideration in the treatment of this vast 
 subject of Art, as taste always has beauty of some sort or 
 other for its object, the attention is naturally first invited to 
 an examination of its principles, and especially those of per- 
 sonal beauty, as we believe them to have been exhibited in 
 the primitive creation, as we see them developed in the living- 
 world around us, and as we find them embodied in some of 
 the sculptured productions of ancient Greece. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no subject of human contemplation more 
 interesting in itself and more fi-equently the to^Dic of conver- 
 sation, and that exercises a greater influence over the actions 
 and affections of men, than that of personal beauty ; and yet 
 is there none whose principles are so imperfectly comprehended 
 by the mass, and even by many of an otherwise refined and / 
 cultivated taste. ' \ 
 
 This is the necessary result of three causes : first, that no \ 
 one is bom with a knowledge of them ; second, that few make 
 them a subject of study ; and third, that those who do de- 
 rive little or no assistance from writers upon this theme, — for, 
 singular as it may be, it is none the less true, that no intelligi- 
 ble and generally accepted theory of beauty is now to be found 
 in any author, ancient or modem. 
 
2 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 Some partial admeasurements of human beauty have indeed 
 come down to us incidentally from the ancient Greeks, and the 
 finest embodiment of them is to be found in some of their 
 sculptured relics ; but no complete theory for our guide and 
 enlightenment has been transmitted to us from that great and 
 polished people. 
 
 Within the last one hundred and fifty years, commencing with 
 Hogarth and ending with Cousin, many essays have been written 
 upon beauty ; but it has been the fate of each to sway only for 
 a while the public taste, and then to give place to another as 
 unintelligible and unsatisfactory as that which preceded it. 
 
 Whether the present essay will throw new light upon a 
 subject so imperfectly comprehended and mysterious, we know 
 not ; yet, as it has been prepared with a knowledge of previous 
 defects, and with the design of accepting w^hatever has been 
 generally conceded to be true, and rejecting whatever is gene- 
 rally acknowledged to be false, we have some reasonable ground 
 for hoping to present, in a concise and intelligible form, some 
 more precise information than ordinarily obtains of the true 
 nature and conditions, not only of that living beauty that 
 everywhere surrounds us, but likewise of that greater personal 
 perfection that, at starting, we shall assume to have character- 
 ized the first created of the great human family; which, how- 
 ever, was subsequently more or less maiTed in their descendants 
 by over-indulgence of the passions and appetites, and the 
 diseases and infirmities consequent thereon, which Nature at 
 every new birth endeavors but ever fails thoroughly to connect, 
 but which in its complete restoration is now only to be found 
 in some of the ancient Greek sculptures, and particularly the 
 Apollo Belvedere and Venus de Medici, — two well-known mar- 
 ble statues that competent judges of all civilized and polite 
 nations have for a long period agi'eed to regard as a standard or 
 law of beauty for the entire human race, and that because 
 they combine, beyond all other known forms, whether in natm-e 
 or art, those physical perfections that once centred in the 
 father and mother of mankind. But whether the Greeks have 
 or have not in these forms reached the perfect beauty of the 
 
PKRSOXAL BEAUTY. 3 
 
 primitive crecation will not at all impair the coiTectness of that 
 theory of beauty to be presented in this essay. And so of all 
 the great works, whether in sculpture or painting or archi- 
 tecture, which, in the course of these essays, we shall employ to 
 illustrate any principle of taste, it may be well enough here to 
 remark, that, whether their merits or demerits may or may not 
 justify our criticisms in regard to them, the art principle they 
 are employed to explain will be no less true, and, as we trust, 
 as well understood ; the reasoning may be sound, even though 
 the example adduced to illustrate them be imperfect. 
 
 Our endeavor will be to show that in the Apollo and Venus de ^ 
 Medici — the figures chosen in this essay as standards of form — 
 the Greek sculptors have reached the excellence of the primitive 
 creation. But whether we succeed or fail in establishing that / 
 fact in regard to these particular examples, our argument may 
 not be in vain ; for unless it be that the father and mother of 
 mankind were created physically perfect, — that is, were models 
 of the species, and that whatever claims to be regarded as a 
 standard of fomi is a reproduction or faithful representation in 
 some measurable material of the external form of those models, — 
 it is to no purpose that we talk, as we constantly do, of personal \ 
 beauty, as there can be nothing to which to refer it, no law by 
 which to judge of the degrees of it, — in short, no foundation to 
 build a theory on. 
 
 We are not ignorant that there are those, and among them 
 that great naturalist Agassiz, who incline to the belief that the 
 great human family is not descended fi'om a single pair or stock, 
 but that man first appeared upon the earth in groups or num- 
 bers, simultaneously created, and geographically divided as at 
 present ; each group corresponding in its several character- 
 istics of form, feature, disposition, temperament, color, etc. to 
 those of the several races or varieties of the human family now 
 upon the earth. 
 
 This, if true, might at first thought seem fatal to one essential 
 portion of our theory, namely, that which makes the perfection 
 of a standard to consist in a strict conformity to the original 
 creation, on account of the seeming impossibility, amid this 
 
4 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 great variety, of finding the perfect type. But the objection is 
 not irremovable, inasmuch as there may have been not only 
 degrees of excellence in the several groups, but also among the 
 individuals of the same group, and if so, there must necessarily 
 have been one of each sex who possessed qualities of form that 
 exalted him above the others, and such would have an un- 
 doubted claim to be considered the most perfect type of the 
 species, and those to which the standard should conform ; in 
 which view of the matter our theory would not be seriously 
 affected, even if the deductions of science were entitled to more 
 credence than the Scriptural record. 
 
 There are those, again, who take a much humbler view of 
 man's primary condition ; who maintain that he is only a better 
 development, an improved offshoot, of some inferior creation. 
 This is the new progressive theory of Darwin. Now, as this 
 theory implies the utter impossibility of a standard, inasmuch 
 as it does not admit of a point where perfection is reached, and 
 does not in any way solve the mystery of creation, or at all ac- 
 count for the various phenomena connected therewith, and, 
 besides, is so entirely at variance with the supposed complete- 
 ness of the creation of some other animals, each division of 
 which has manifested no improvement that we are acquainted 
 with since the day they were first planted upon the earth, and 
 are still considered perfect, and, furthermore, so fixes, in this 
 view of the case, the stamp of inferiority upon that being whom 
 reason and revelation and science and common sense have ever 
 taught us to regard as the head of creation, that we shall make 
 no serious attempt to refute it, but simply say we do not be- 
 lieve it any more than we believe that the Greek or any other 
 sculptors or painters have produced from the imagination forms 
 or figures more beautiful than ever proceeded fi'om the hands 
 of the Almighty, as that would be to suppose that they knew 
 better than the Almighty how man should be created, — which 
 is not only absurd, but discovers on the part of those who 
 believe it an ignorance of the true character of ideal beauty, the 
 highest type of which, as will presently be demonstrated, can 
 be nothin<-^ more or less than the highest type of natural beauty. 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. 5 
 
 it consisting simply in combining into one congenial mass the 
 now divided beauties of the human race, thus doing for man 
 only that which Cuvier and other naturalists have done for*^ 
 some of the lower and lost orders of creation, namely, recon- 
 structing the entire animal, guided by the structure of a single 
 bone, congeniality alone being the law or requirement. 
 
 Besides the Apollo Belvedere and the Venus de Medici, to 
 illustrate this discourse, we shall have occasion, in the course 
 of it, to refer to other of the Grecian statues, — the Minerva 
 Athene, the Mercury, the Hunting Diana, the Hercules Farnese, 
 and the Venus of Milo ; and to what is said respecting them we 
 must invite the undivided attention, as, in order to get any cor- 
 rect idea of the true nature and conditions of living beauty, of 
 that which everywhere surrounds us, it is just as necessary to 
 penetrate the design of the ancient Greeks in these statues, as 
 it was for Moses to smite the rock in the wilderness that the 
 waters might gush out. 
 
 Of the many theories of beauty that have been given to the^ 
 world by modern writers, had it been consistent with the plan 
 of these discourses, it would have been pleasant to have ex- 
 amined the most important ; but as time and space will not 
 permit, suffice it to state, that, dividing them all into two 
 classes, the great fundamental difference between them is this, 
 namely, that one portion regards beauty as an inherent indepen- 
 dent quality of objects, something abiding and residing in them 
 whether we perceive and derive pleasure from it or not ; while 
 another portion considers it as a contingency, sometimes making 
 the pleasure arising from the contemplation of an object the 
 measure of its excellence, and that pleasure, as in the theory of 
 Mr. Alison, dependent on some associations awakened in the 
 mind of the beholder, or, as with Hogarth, the perception of 
 some quality, as that of fitness, utility, and the like. 
 
 Now it is very apparent that the theory that recognizes the 
 first position, namely, the inherent quality of beauty, is right as 
 fiir as it goes, as it rests upon an unchanging foundation ; and that 
 the theory which rejects it is wrong, as it has no foundation at 
 all, — the first finding its law or rule in an unalterable standard ; 
 
b PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 while the last, disclaiming all standard, receives as law the ever- 
 varying decisions of each changing imagination. 
 
 Now there can be no doubt whatever that the pleasure with 
 which one contemplates any object esteemed beautiful is 
 enhanced by the associations awakened in the mind of the be- 
 holder, — as in viewing the Elgin marbles, for instance, to know 
 that they were executed by that great sculptor Phidias, and 
 once made a portion of the frieze of the Parthenon ; and no 
 objection can be raised to the position of Hogarth, that our 
 admiration is increased by the perception of design or fitness in 
 any object, or the adaptation of means to ends, — as the slim, 
 light form of the greyhound, the hunting Diana, and the Mer- 
 cury, for activity or fleetness, and the muscular structure of the 
 Hercules, the lion, the tiger, and the mastiff for strength ; and 
 that admiration is still further increased by the observance of 
 utility in any object, as in the adaptation of an ornamented 
 
 / fountain to the purposes of bathing. Still it is to be maintained "" 
 that neither association nor fitness nor utility make any por- 
 tion of the beauty of an object, of that to which we apply the 
 epithet " beautiful " ; and especially is utility to be rejected from 
 among the elements of beauty, however much our admiration 
 may be increased by the perception of it, or it follows, as a 
 necessary consequence, that whatever enters into the comjDOsi- 
 tion of any object, beyond what is required to enable it to per- 
 form some necessary duty, is out of place, and consequently an 
 excrescence, a deformity, — which is so far from being true, that 
 the highest beauty of objects will generally be found to reside 
 in the ornamental part, in that which was not absolutely re- 
 quired, and without which those useful duties (employing the 
 tenn "useful " in its vulgar acceptation) might have been as well 
 accomplished. This is certainly true in architecture, as a plain 
 rough post would as well support an entablature as a finished 
 
 ; ornamented column. Nor is it otherwise in regard to the hu- 
 man structure, for an ill-formed eye or nose or mouth will 
 perform all the offices required of them as well as when those 
 / features have all the outward forms of beauty. The truth is, the 
 Autlior of our being, in the great work of creation, had sufficient 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. 7 
 
 ill the storehouse of his abundance for ornament as well as 
 for use ; he chose, therefore, not only to consult his beneficence 
 in providing for the necessities of man, but likewise his fane?/ in 
 gratifying his taste. Having implanted in man a love of tlie 
 beautiful, he then supplied the means of satisfying it, and those 
 means, as far as human beauty is concerned, may be stated, in 
 general terms, to consist in certain shapes, surfaces, or contours, 
 proportions and colors, constituting by and of themselves posi- 
 tive, essential beauty, as a modification of such shapes or forms, 
 surfaces or contours, proportions and colors, and the consequent 
 presence of others, constitutes essential, positive deformity, — not 
 a negative deficiency simply, but an absolute presence. 
 
 The essential, inherent quality of beauty then, as thus stated, 
 being accepted, we are next to inquire if there may not be some 
 standard to which to refer it, some rule to guide the judgment 
 in our estimate of the degrees of it, especially as it regards the 
 human structure. 
 
 This question in regard to a standard of beauty for the human 
 form is necessarily involved in the more general one of a stand- 
 ard of taste. We shall consider it, however, no furtlier than as it 
 has a bearing on a rule or law of beauty for the human struc- 
 ture, both male and female. 
 
 We constantly talk of the beauty or deformity of this or that 
 individual, and it is immediately assented to ; but when one 
 standard of beauty for the human race is mentioned, objections 
 are raised, on the ground that individuals and nations differ in 
 regard to their estimate of what constitutes beauty, — one mak- 
 ing it to consist in this structure and color, another in that ; the 
 Chinese, for instance, finding it in the pinched-up foot, the sooty 
 African in the thick-formed lip, whilst the Caucasian, rejecting 
 these as deformities, seeks and thinks he finds it in something else. 
 
 This is the argument generally employed by those who con- 
 tend for the negative of this question ; but it is of no avail, 
 for although a love for the beautiful is a part of our common 
 nature, this love may be improved like any other of our faculties, 
 physical, intellectual, and moral. Indeed, taste, or a love for and 
 discriminating appreciation of whatever is beautiful, is not only 
 
8 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 progressive, but inductive ; it is, in short, as has been well said, 
 "the result of a series of experiments whose object is beauty" ; 
 and this being so, our discernment and judgment of beauty will 
 be commensurate with our means of improvement. The unedu- 
 cated rustic who has never travelled beyond his little village, 
 and seen only such rude objects of art as the pedler unfolds at 
 the cottage door, is gratified and satisfied with less than his more 
 fortunate townsman, who has seen the master efforts of the 
 pencil and the chisel. The former is pleased, for they are the 
 best he has seen ; but even he will smile at the primitive sim- 
 plicity of his early taste, when, at some future period, with the 
 advantages of travel and observation, his eye ranges along the 
 adornments of the walls of his ancient habitation ; he judges com- 
 paratively, he has seen a better. 
 
 It will thus be seen that diversity of opinion, in regard to 
 beauty, so far from being a matter for surprise, is the necessar}^ 
 effect of varied extent of knowledge, and can never be success- 
 fully employed as an argument against a standard of beauty for 
 the human race ; and this being so, our next and third j^rdimi- 
 nary inquiry is as to where we shall find that standard, and, 
 happily for our patience, there is no difficulty in this respect, as 
 we have only to turn to those universally admired relics of 
 (Grecian grandeur, the Apollo Belvedere and Venus de Medici, 
 not as arbitrary standards, but as standards whose claim to be 
 regarded as models of beauty rests upon the common feelings 
 and sentiments of men, tried and appealed to for centuries 
 through all civilized nations. Reason, however, it has been 
 justly remarked by Mr. Blair, first established, and, as we shall 
 presently show, subsequently demonstrates, the principles on 
 which the standard furnished by the Apollo and the Venus 
 remains fixed and unchangeable. 
 
 It may be objected to these statues that they are ideal figures, 
 and therefore that it is perfectly ridiculous to set them up as 
 models of beauty for the human form ; but the reply to this is, 
 that although nothing like them as a whole has been found in 
 the great human family since our first parents, yet they are not, 
 for that reason, the less natural. 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. 9 
 
 There may be a seeming contradiction in the statement that 
 ideal beauty in its highest type and signification is natural 
 beauty ; but as an examination of this position will unfold to us 
 the entire meaning and design of the old Greek sculpture, and 
 consequently the nature and conditions of living human beauty, 
 let us briefly pursue it, and test its accuracy. 
 
 No one, we apprehend, will dispute the position that the 
 present structm-e of the human race is imperfect, that no one 
 can be found whose physical conformation is not marked by one 
 or more defects ; nor will it be doubted by any one, we imagine, 
 that there must have been a brief period in man's history when 
 it was fai' otherwise, — for it is not reasonable to suppose that im- 
 perfection existed in the physical constitution of the first created 
 pair, whatever may have been the inherent liability to change, 
 deterioration, and disease. They were the last of the Almighty's 
 productions, and, as the heads of creation, we have some sure 
 grounds for believing them to have been that on which his 
 greatest skill was expended. The great Architect of the universe 
 doubtless made the body a fitting residence for its princely occu- 
 pant, the soul. Man must have commenced aright, for it is 
 difficult to conceive, in any view of the matter, why it should 
 have been otherwise. But perfect beauty, as already stated, is 
 now no longer to be found in any human being. This soul of 
 ours is the tenant only of a ruin, but it is the ruin of a Par- 
 thenon ; and, although its fail' proportions are destroyed, the 
 material still exists, but scattered like the fragments of that same 
 Parthenon, and, like them too, beautiful even in decay. To 
 repeat, the fragments of that beauty, once united in the first 
 creation, although dispersed, now exist. On every side of us 
 there is more or less of them. This person may have one por- 
 tion, and that another, but not the whole ; for, to repeat, no one 
 can be found in whom these fragments of original beauty are not 
 mixed up with deficiencies, excrescences, and deformities, — the 
 necessaiy consequences of a diseased body. This may be morti- 
 fying to our pride, especially when we compare our condition 
 in this respect with that of other animals, but it is no less a 
 fact. 
 
10 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 Now, this imperfection in man's structure soon made itself 
 /" visible to the Grecian sculptors. These, observing that Nature 
 had limited her efforts to parts, — that is, had scattered among 
 the many the beauties formerly united in one, — were not willing 
 to take their idea of beauty from a single individual, but from 
 several ; and thus, instead of making a fac-simile of one, they ex- 
 tracted the fragments of beauty from many bodies, and, uniting 
 them into a congenial mass, were enabled to make out an ab- 
 stract of form more perfect than one original, and — which might 
 seem a paradox — more natural, as the result of such combination 
 was the production of forms not disfigured by accident, distem- 
 pered by disease, or modified by custom and local habits, and 
 consequently possessing more of that unmodified general struc- 
 ture that characterized the first creation. I repeat, general struc- 
 ture ; for the phrase ^^ 2:>erfect beauty " implies or expresses a gen- 
 eral idea, neither Greek, Italian, English, French, nor German 
 exclusively, — for all national and individual peculiarities of 
 structure, as such, are a deviation from or modification of the origi- 
 nal type of general beauty, and consequently so far a deformity. 
 
 When we spoke just now of man's early offence against the 
 . laws of nature, and of the diseases and deformities consequent 
 upon his o?;er-indulgence of the passions and appetites, as among 
 the prominent causes of his present deteriorated structure, and 
 that it found its complete restoration in the efforts of the Greek 
 sculptors, we did not mean it to be inferred that they under- 
 stood all this in the sense in wdiich we comprehend it, but that 
 the process of selection and congenial combination led to this 
 result. Whatever may have been their supposition and inten- 
 tion, and whether they have or have not, in these or any other 
 figures, reached the excellence and beauty of the first created 
 pair, it will at once be seen, that, although our models may 
 be imperfect, our theory remains sound, namely, that complete 
 ideal personal beauty, and consequently a standard of form, is 
 nothing more than the reproducing in marble or some unchan- 
 ging measurable material the structure given to man at creation, 
 not in attempting to make anything more beautiful than he then 
 was, but as he once existed, fresh from the hands of his Maker ; 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. 11 
 
 thus making the highest ideal and the liighcst natural beauty to 
 be precisely the same thing, and man, as we ordinarily behold 
 him, the most unnatural of all created beings, and that " not to 
 overstep the modesty of nature is to follow in the footsteps of 
 the most exalted art." 
 
 There is one other objection besides that already noticed which 
 is very likely to be lu'ged against the claims of the Apollo and 
 the Venus to be regarded as the standards of human form, 
 namely, that they were reckoned among the gods of Greece. 
 Those who advance it, however, forget that the divinities of that 
 people had a human origin, and that whoever attempted to 
 portray them employed human materials. 
 
 The aim of the sculptors in these statues was complete 
 beauty of form, but of this they could have no higher concep- 
 tion than what was furnished by the scattered parts, among 
 which their acuteness discerning a consistency, guided by their 
 taste and artistic skill, these they simply united into congenial 
 forms, " bone to its fellow bone," as the dry and scattered frag- 
 ments came together in the vision of Ezekiel ; governed in all 
 this by precisely the same law that, as stated in the commence- 
 ment of this essay, governed Cuvier in the perfect reconstruc- 
 tion of the form of some lost animal, — the law of congruity, or 
 agreement. 
 
 Besides the Apollo Belvedere and the Venus de Medici, there 
 are other ideal forms among the Greek sculptures that in a certain 
 sense are beautiful, as the Hunting Diana, the Minerva Athene, 
 the Mercury, the Venus of Milo, etc. ; but they have no claim to 
 be regarded as models or standards of complete human beauty, 
 as their excellence is partial, sectional, characteristic, being that 
 only of a class, — the Diana and Mercury embodying the perfec- 
 tions of the fleet or agile, the Minerva those of the intellectual. 
 These are extremes of their kind, and are styled characteristic 
 beauties ; in which they differ from the Apollo and Venus, that, 
 as already stated, have in their structure nothing of a partial 
 character, but are central figures, the medium or compromise 
 between all extremes, and, being gathered from the entire human 
 family, are models of general beauty, as the others, being 
 
12 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 gathered from a subdivision of it, are perfect examples of ^jar- 
 ticular beauty, the beauty of a class. 
 
 In his admirable lectures on art. Sir Joshua Reynolds, to 
 whom we are already much indebted, tells us that " the Apollo 
 and the Venus are a combination of these several sectional beau- 
 ties, a union of all the excellent qualities that these singly possess, 
 just as Achilles, whom Homer intends to make a perfect man, 
 is a compound of all his confederates ; " or as John Milton, who, 
 Macaulay tells us, was the greatest man of his age, " was neither 
 Puritan, Cavalier, Roundhead, nor of any other single party 
 or persuasion, but made up of the noblest qualities of every 
 party combined in harmonious union, — from the camp and the 
 court, from the conventicle and the Gothic cloister, from the 
 gloomy and sepulchral circles of the Roundhead and the Christ- 
 mas revels of the hospitable Cavaliers, — his nature selecting and 
 drawing to itself whatever was great and good, while it rejected 
 all the base and pernicious ingredients by which those finer ele- 
 ments were defiled." 
 
 And that the Apollo and the Venus are, as Reynolds observes, 
 a combination of all the excellent qualities that the other stat- 
 ues singly possess, we can readily believe, as "perfect beauty 
 in any species must unite all the characters that are beautiful 
 in that species. It cannot exist in one to the exclusion of the 
 rest ; no one, either, must be predominant, that no one may be 
 deficient ; " for wherever, as already shown, one quality — as of 
 activity in the Mercury and Diana, and intellectuality in the 
 Minerva — becomes so predominant as to merge or shut out the 
 rest, it renders such representation sectional, destroys its gen- 
 eral character, the great element of perfect beauty. 
 
 This idea of Reynolds has been taken up and much simplified 
 by Walker in his very elaborate work on Beauty. He makes 
 three classes of sectional beauty, represented by the Venus 
 of Milo, the Hunting Diana, and the Minerva Athene. The 
 beauty of the first he characterizes as vital, "■ because it embodies 
 all those qualities which best fit a woman to become the mother 
 of her race ;" that of the second as locomotive, "because it em- 
 bodies all those qualities which favor activity of movement ; " 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. 13 
 
 and that of the third as intellechial, " because developing par- 
 ticidarly the intellectual excellences of form and expression." 
 
 " Now," continues Mr. Walker, "though there can be no great 
 degi-ee of beauty where a combination of the three is not more 
 or less the case, yet a union of the three in the greatest possi- 
 ble degree is necessary to constitute ^x^z/w^ 2)erso)ial beauty " ; and 
 this (as does Reynolds) he thinks exemplified in the Apollo 
 Belvedere and the Venus de Medici, which, as already stated, have 
 in them nothing that is characteristic, individual, or national. 
 
 It is true we daily hear these statues spoken of as Greek in 
 their structure, but it is only in the sense in which Mr. Hume 
 allows to the British people a national character, namely, in 
 their having none, this very peculiarity alone entitling them to 
 the epithet ; that is, "the British character was," as he expresses 
 it, "a union of all the excellent qualities possessed separately by 
 different portions of the great human family," which combination 
 rendered them, in his opinion, the most perfect peoj^le, morally 
 considered, on the globe. Whether his estimate was just or 
 not is another question. The idea is that of Macaulay in his >^ 
 anah-tical estimation of the character of John Milton, and 
 equally illustrates the only manner possible of embodying su- 
 preme excellence, namely, by a combination of scattered ele- 
 ments into one congenial whole. 
 
 These statues, therefore, are Greek in one sense, and not in 
 another, — Greek, in that the qualities of general beauty were 
 oftener found in Greece than elsewhere ; and not Greek, in that 
 the qualities which gave such pre-eminent beauty to the Apollo 
 and the Venus belong to man not as a Greek, but are the gen- 
 eral characteristics of man universal. 
 
 Our discussion thus far has established, as we believe, thev 
 following positions : First, that beauty has a real, not an im- 
 aginary existence ; that it is an inherent, essential quality of 
 objects, — something residing in them, independent of all other 
 considerations, whether of association or utility or fitness or 
 design ; for although such association, or the perception of utility 
 or fitness or design, may increase our admiration, they make no 
 part of that to which we apply the epithet " beautiful." 
 
14 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 Second, that there may be a standard of beauty, notwith- 
 standing a difference of opinion respecting it exists among 
 individuals and nations, inasmuch as taste, or a just apprecia- 
 tion and estimate of beauty, is improvable, like any other of our 
 faculties, intellectual, physical, and moral. 
 
 Third, that this standard of beauty is furnished us in those 
 ancient Greek statues, the Apollo Belvedere and the Venus 
 de Medici, because they combine all the physical beauties of 
 the first ci-eated of the human race, which primitive creation we 
 assumed to be necessarily perfect, and consequently that what- 
 ever claims to be a law or model for living beauty must in all 
 particulars resemble them, thus identifying the highest idecd 
 with the highest natural beauty. 
 
 Fourth, that the term " perfect beauty " expresses a general 
 idea, excluding all individual and national peculiarities of struc- 
 ture as modifications of this general primitive beauty, which 
 comprehends, necessarily, all that is excellent in the species, 
 and cannot exist in one excellent quality to the exclusion of the 
 rest, as, whenever that is the case, — as in the Diana, where the 
 locomotive power or adaptation exceeds all other developments, and 
 in the Minerva, where the intellectucd are the most predominant, 
 and ni the Venus of Milo, where both the locomotive and the in- 
 tellectucd are subordinate to the vital developments, — it destroys 
 its general character, and renders it a sectional, partial beauty, 
 the perfection of its class, as the Apollo and the Venus de 
 Medici, combining the beauties or excellent qualities of these 
 three classes in equal and highest degree, are types of perfect 
 general beauty, that is, of man universal. 
 
 '' Well, having established, as we trust, these preliminary posi- 
 tions, we come next to speak of the elements of beauty, j^i^opor- 
 tion, symmetry, simplicity, variety, and grace, — of symmetry in 
 the disposition of the several limbs and features ; proportion 
 ^in their several lengths and breadths ; simplicity and variety 
 in their contours or surfaces ; and grace in their attitudes. 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. 15 
 
 PROPORTION. 
 
 Proportion has ever been considered the basis of beauty, as 
 disproportion of deformity. It is defined to be the rehition of 
 the whole to the parts, or of the parts to the whole. In foi-m 
 it is such an arrangement of the several portions of a figure as 
 sliall make that impression upon the eye that a just arrangement 
 of notes in music does upon the ear. Proportion pleases by^ 
 its appeal to our love of harmony, and harmony pleases us 
 agreeably to a requirement or law of om* natiure. 
 
 In this view of the term — nameh^, the relation of the whole to 
 the parts and of the parts to the w^hole — it will be perceived 
 that there may be proportion in several kinds of figures, either fat 
 or slender, tall or short, as the several parts which go to make 
 up that figure are /a^ or slender, tall or short ; so that when it is/ 
 said, as it presently will be, that neither of these can be per- 
 fectly beautiful, but only a medium or compromise of the two, 
 the idea intended to be conveyed is not that they are entirely 
 deficient in personal attractions, because they may possess the 
 charm that arises from congeniality or congruity of parts from 
 their all being of one character, — in which consists, doubtless, 
 much of the beauty of the Diana, the Mercury, the greyhound, 
 the dray and the race horse, the clipper-built schooner and the ship 
 of burden. In each of these, if we may be allowed the exj)res- 
 sion, the parts are all of one mind ; the notes are in unison, but 
 the air is not the most beautiful. This proportion of an indi- 
 vidual in regard to himself, this correspondence of the several 
 parts of an object w^ith the entire figure, is what the ancient 
 Greeks called harmonic proportion. 
 
 Bad proportion of the human figure consists in having a 
 fat body and a slim leg, or a thin face and a pug nose, or fat 
 fingers and a lean arm ; or it is such an aiTangemcnt of the 
 several parts as shall produce the same effect upon the eye that 
 a too sharp or too flat note in music does upon the ear. 
 
 If any one should desire to know what the most perfect pro- 
 portions for the human figure are, that is another question, and 
 best answered by referring to the Venus and the Apollo. 
 
16 PEES ox AL BEAUTY. 
 
 Among the ancient sculptors, the medium of measurement 
 for the human form was either the foot, the face, or the head. 
 Taking the face for the measui'ement, the Apollo and Venus 
 give for their height about ten ; or, making the head the measure- 
 ment, the Apollo gives somewhat over seven, the Venus seven 
 and a half. This laying out of the figiu'e into so many faces or 
 heads or feet was called by the ancients numerical proportion. 
 It is not necessary to continue further detailed statements 
 like these, as they may be found in almost any book on Ai-t. 
 
 /We shall content ourselves with simply remarking that the 
 length of the several portions of the figure in the two sexes is 
 pretty much the same, but that in their breadths they differ ; 
 the shoulders in the male being in all well-proportioned figures 
 broader than the hips, and the reverse in the female ; hence the 
 form of the first tapers downwards, while that of the latter tapers 
 upwards. The waist too, as compared with the shoulders, is 
 nari'ower in the male than in the female, from which it appears 
 how contrary to Nature's design those females proceed who 
 
 ^ think they improve their beauty by contracting it. 
 
 SYMMETRY. 
 
 We have had no inconsiderable difficulty in giving a satisfac- 
 tory definition of this second element of beauty, as it is fre- 
 quently employed by writers as synonymous with proportion. It 
 has probably the same meaning as uniformity ; at least, we shall 
 so consider it. 
 
 It is symmetry that directs the placing of the arms in corre- 
 sponding positions on either side of the body, the ears on either 
 side of the head, the eyes on either side and at equal distance 
 from the nose, — as the windows, the eyes of the house, on either 
 side of the door ; the chimneys, the ears of the house, on each 
 end, or in the middle, if but one. The destruction of one eye, 
 or the loss of or cutting shorter one of the arms, or elevating 
 a little one of the shoulders, would be destructive of symmetry. 
 The destruction of the two eyes or both arms would not so im- 
 pair it, although it would be fatal to ^iro/?or^io«. The ox with 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. 17 
 
 two horns, and the unicorn with one, are equally symmetrical ; 
 cut but an inch from one of the horns of the former, or remove 
 but an inch from the centre the horn of the latter, and the 
 symmetry of the figure is destroyed. Symmetry always imparts 
 a very great delight ; it pleases by its appeal to our love of or- 
 der, or balance of parts. ►^ 
 
 SIMPLICITY. 
 
 This, the third element of beauty, is the basis of purity, 
 and always involves the idea of fewness of parts. It is sim- 
 plicity that makes us admire the clear unwrinkled forehead, 
 a smooth fair skin ; that discards in dress a multiplicity of folds 
 and gTeat variety of colors, as, in the hair, a multiplicity of 
 curls ; that renders agTeeable the Eastern drapery, and gives 
 superiority to Grecian over Gothic architecture, when the latter 
 is viewed near, and that makes the Gothic look better at a dis- y 
 tance, when the detail is lost in the mass. 
 
 In this element of beauty is to be found the gi-eat charm of 
 Raphael's productions, and in the want of it the disgust and 
 uneasiness not unfrequently excited by those of French artists 
 of the David school, in the days of the Empire. 
 
 Simplicity in morals means straightforwardness, directness, 
 and is the opposite of cunning, chicanery, and intrigue. In 
 manners it is artlessness, and the opposite of affectation ; in 
 form, it is the opposite of a multiplicity of shapes or figures. 
 Simplicity is a near neighbor to order or regularity, and conse- 
 quently leads a very quiet existence. It pleases by its-appeal to 
 our love of repose. 
 
 VARIETY. 
 
 It may look a little like contradiction to place variety among 
 the elements of beauty, after what has been said of simplicity. 
 But it is to be remembered that although the eye and the mind, 
 like the body, love quid, and repose, they likewise love exercise. 
 The eye is as much offended with being fixed to a dead flat 
 wall as the ear is displeased with one even continued note. 
 
 It is varietv that renders the rectangular line more beautiful 
 
18 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 .and agreeable to the eye than one uniformly straight, those 
 cutting each other diagonally more so than the rectangular, the 
 undulating more so than the diagonal, and the spiral more so 
 than the undulating or double ciirve, — the latter constituting 
 the line of beauty, the former that of grace. 
 
 It is variety that gives a pleasing character to the perpen- 
 dicular position of the nose as contrasted vrith the horizontal 
 lines of the eyes and the mouth ; that makes the oval a better 
 form for the head than the round or the square, a slightly un- 
 dulating outline of the surface of the body preferable to a dead 
 flat ; that renders a turning attitude and limbs, a slightly 
 averted and gently reclined head, infinitely more beautiful than 
 one bolt upright. 
 
 " This variety, however, in the form, the surface, and the atti- 
 tude of the body must not be carried to excess, any more than 
 simjilicitij, for the first would lead to intricacy, as the last to 
 monotony r What the proportionate degree of each in any form 
 or composition should be, is a question to be answered when 
 we come to speak of the constituent portions of painting and 
 directly of sculpture, and to treat of the con-espondence neces- 
 sary to be preserved between the composition and the senti- 
 ment of the subject. 
 
 That the foregoing remarks in regard to dmplicity and variety 
 are not the mere suggestions of fancy, but have a practical ap- 
 plication, and involve the soundest philosophy, may be easily 
 demonstrated by almost anything that is beautiful in nature 
 and art, and particularly by that most enchanting of all objects, 
 the human form. 
 
 Observe the head, and see how beautifully Nature has guarded 
 it from monotony by the hair and the ej'ebrows, which by their 
 roughness serve to relieve the softness, smoothness, and clear- 
 ness of the skin ; and then again the outlines of the entire 
 figure, which, though in its general surface soft and smooth, 
 consists not wholly of abrupt angular lines nor of those which 
 are perfectly round, neither entirely of straight lines nor those 
 that are curved, but of that happy combination of the two, the 
 varied and the simple, that, insensibly melting into each other, 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. 19 
 
 " Tliat flowing outlino take 
 That moves in wavy windings like the snake, 
 Or lambent flame, which, ainj)le, broad, and long, 
 Relieved, not swelled, at once both light and strong, 
 Glides through the graceful whole." 
 
 There is not an entirely straight hne of any extension to be \ 
 found on the surface of the figure of either the Apollo or the 
 Venus ; and hence we conclude that much of th(;i}- beauty, as 
 also that of all handsome persons, results from the employment 
 and nice adjustment of a spirally undulating outline. And wo 
 are the more inclined to this belief, if it be true, as ^Nlr. Burke 
 asserts, that "those objects are the most ugly that are the most 
 angular " : and that this is so as it regards the human form we/ 
 are persuaded to believe, "for if its whole surface was covered 
 with sharp projecting points, the eye and the mind would be 
 harassed and distracted ; if the whole surfoce was smooth and 
 flat, there would be a want of animation. Neither the eye 
 nor the mind is unexcited or distracted, but gently and agreeably 
 animated, when running along the undulatory surfaces of the 
 Apollo and the Venus ; therefore we conclude that this line is 
 one of the principal causes of their beauty." 
 
 If this be, as it doubtless is, connect, it will be at once per- * 
 cdved that thin or lean persons cannot be perfectly beautiful, 
 because there the muscles have no rilievo, the surfaces are too 
 flat ; that would give the half-starved apothecaiy in " Romeo 
 and Juliet." 
 
 Xor can fat persons be perfectly beautiful, because there the 
 muscles are too round ; that would give John Falstaff. 
 
 Xor very muscular persons, because there the terminations 
 or insertions of the muscles are too abrupt ; that would give 
 the Hercules or Samson. 
 
 Nor can very young persons be perfectly beautiful, because 
 there the muscles have not attained their completeness ; nor 
 can very old persons, because they have lost it. 
 
 Where then, and under what condition of life, shall we look 
 for complete human beauty '? Only at the precise period of 
 womanhood or manhood. All before that is progressive ; all after 
 that is stationaiy for a while, perhaps, and then receding. / 
 
20 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 If time and space permitted, we could still further illustrate 
 the value of this waving and spiral line in giving beauty, by 
 showing how Nature employs it in ''her trees, her fruits, her 
 flowers, and, more than all — for its importance as an argument 
 — in expressing the agreeable sentiments of our nature, whilst 
 she exhibits the ferocious and disgusting in angular lines." 
 
 Violent passion angularizes the muscles, and consequently is 
 fatal to beauty. The ancients, therefore, rarely exhibited the 
 human form violently excited. It is true the " Gladiator is 
 agitated, the Laocoon is convulsed, the Niobe is absorbed ; " 
 but these are rare exceptions, and it was not intended that to 
 them the world should look for complete human beauty. " The 
 Apollo is only animated, the Venus simply is charmed." 
 
 " The muscles that form a pleasing smile about the corners of 
 the mouth have gentle windings, but lose them and their 
 beauty in a broad laugh ; they then take the form of a paren- 
 thesis. It is the absence of all these gently winding lines, 
 this union of the varied and the simple, the straight and the 
 curved, that characterizes the face of the idiot, and marks, in 
 the most striking degree, those least beautiful of all animals, the 
 hog, the bear, and that reptile, the toad." " An ugly toad " is 
 a common epithet ; used sometimes to indicate a peculiar disposi- 
 tion, but improperly so, as it has relation simply to the form or 
 structure of the person. 
 
 Although both the Apollo and the Venus are characterized 
 by a nice adjustment of this serpentine flowing outline, yet it 
 is somewhat more gentle in the female, as suitable to her gentler 
 nature and sex ; while in the male the muscles are more articu- 
 lated and angular, as becoming strength and manhood. This 
 being the case, there can be no difficulty in saying which is the 
 most beautiful. The female, undoubtedly. The form of the 
 male, however, if it exhibit, as it ought, less delicacy and ele- 
 gance, possesses the most grandeur. Hence woman, as observed 
 by Lavatcr, " inspires more love ; man, more admiration." 
 
 Our discussion thus fxr has had relation only to the form of 
 the human creation. We have yet said nothing of the general 
 complexion, nor should we, if this essay was intended simply to 
 
PERSONAL BEAUTY. iM 
 
 illustrate the beauty of the Greek statues. We have employed 
 them chiefly that through the principles which govei-ned their 
 construction we might get a clearer idea than we otherwise 
 coiild of what constitutes perfect beauty in the living world 
 around us. We purpose, however, only briefly to remark, that, 
 as in a painting, when you pass beyond a single color, a com- 
 bination in some way or other of the three primitives, red, 
 yellow, and blue, is absolutely required to render a picture 
 agreeable, the employment of two alone not satisfying the eye : 
 so also in every beautiful complexion is there required the same 
 combination. What shall be the proportionate degree of each 
 in any given form or character could not possibly be stated. 
 We can only say that the union of the three in greater or less 
 intensity is found in the complexion of every beautiful j^erson 
 in health. 
 
 Those who contend against a universal standard of beauty for 
 the human race would tell us, perhaps, that because the Mon- 
 golian and the Ethiopian prefer their own color, therefore the 
 complexion of the black and the Indian is to be considered as 
 beautiful as that of the Caucasian or white race. It is not so, 
 however, as has been ingeniously demonstrated in a very few words 
 by Sir Uvedale Price in his admirable essay on the Picturesque. 
 
 " Light and color," says that excellent critic, " are the only 
 natural pleasures of vision, but black is the privation of both. 
 Variety, gradation, and combination of tints afford the gi'eatest 
 delight to the eye, but black is absolute monotony." In the 
 complexion of the black, then, and in almost as great a degree 
 in the complexion of the red man, we see an inferiority, in one 
 view of the matter, to that of the white. We call the negi'o " a 
 man of color," but improperly so, as that epithet may more, 
 properly be applied to the white race. 
 
 The same inferiority likewise attaches to the form of the black, 
 as judged by our standard, and that we have a right so to judge 
 we doubt not ; for though the perfection of our model — and, in- 
 deed, of any model — consists in a complete conformation to the 
 primitive creation, and the negro and the red man had, as some 
 maintain, a distinct origin (\vhich point it is not necessary for 
 
22 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 US now to discuss), and although as a MongoHan or an Ethi- 
 opian, his perfection would consist in a complete conformation 
 to the structure that characterized the first created of his own 
 denomination, yet, when we come to consider his beauty as a 
 man, as a member of the gi'eat human family, then he necessarily 
 comes under the general law ; and a comparison with the white, 
 under that law, at once establishes his inferiority, both as it re- 
 gards /or;/i and color, whatever may be his intellectual and moral 
 equality. 
 
 Our remarks thus far have been mostly of an abstract charac- 
 ter, and had relation chiefly to the past. We will now, in conclu- 
 sion, say a few words of the present. 
 
 Among the varieties of the great human family now on the 
 earth, none have a greater reputation for beauty than the Cir- 
 cassians and Georgians, — or, rather, the portion of the Georgians 
 inhabiting that part of the great Caucasian range called Kar- 
 teul or Imeritia, for there are several divisions of the Georgians. 
 
 Why the Greeks should have lost their general reputation for 
 beauty we know not, for there are travellers who say that the 
 same models that inspired Phidias and Apelles are still to be 
 found in the Morea ; that nothing can surpass the beauty of the 
 Greek women that inhabit the islands, where the Greek blood is 
 unpolluted by marriage with natives of other countries. Blu- 
 menbach, of a collection of one hundred and seventy crania of 
 different nations, found a Greek skull presenting the same facial 
 angle as that of the Apollo (an angle of eighty-seven degrees), 
 thus refuting the idea that the expansive forms of the best an- 
 tique sculptures were purely imaginative. 
 
 But, be that as it may, the Greeks have, from some cause or 
 other, lost their ancient reputation for beauty. The palm is now 
 awarded by general consent to the Circassians and the Georgians. 
 Tlie Circassians are described as having brown hair, hazel eyes, 
 oval faces, thin straiglit noses, and elegant forms. The Geor- 
 gians are spoken of as more beautiful in form, but inferior in 
 complexion. It is less fair, owing, no doubt, to the latter being 
 natives of a lower range of the Caucasian Mountains. 
 
 Among the principal causes of the superior beauty of these 
 
PERSONAL BKAUTY. 23 
 
 tribes may be included the unfettered training of the children, 
 the freedom of dress, and that exemi^tion Irom care which at- 
 tends a medium degree of refinement, and leaves the counte- 
 nance with that expression of repose so characteristic of ideal 
 beaut I/. 
 
 Where there is a multiplicity of cares, there gets to be im- 
 pressed upon the face a multiplicity of expressions, which de- 
 stroys the breadth, and distracts the eye and mind of the spec- 
 tator. 
 
 Much, too, is owing to the medium nature of the climate. 
 They are neither burnt up, like the negro, nor frozen to death, 
 like the Esquimaux. Nature degenerates at the extremes. All 
 extremes lie on either side of the true and the perfect. Thus it ; 
 is neither the Hercules nor the Mercury that is the most beautiful, 
 but a medium or compromise of the two, the Apollo ; neither 
 the gTeyhound nor the mastiff, but the pointer ; neither the lean 
 nor the fat, but the full made ; neither the tall nor the short, 
 but the medium-sized ; neither the old nor the young, but the 
 middle-aged ; neither the straight nor the round, but the undu- 
 lating ; or, to sum up the whole in two words, it is the juste'^ 
 milieu of the French, or the " golden mean " of the moralist, 
 or something precisely between two extremes ; and it is there 
 we find our standard of beauty for the human race, not simply 
 the beauty of form, color, and expression, but likewise of attitude 
 and movement, or, in other words, grace, so well defined as " the 
 artless balance of motion and repose, sprung from character, 
 founded upon propriety, w^hich neither falls short of nor over- 
 steps the modesty of nature." 
 
 But although a medium or temperate climate is favorable to 
 the production and preservation of beauty, there may be, and 
 frequenth' is, great beauty where the climate is adverse, because 
 its evil influences may be counteracted or corrected by educa- 
 tion ; but the difference of the process is the difference betweeen 
 natural and artificial causes. The physical condition of a man 
 who never has been ill must necessarily be more perfect than 
 that of one who has been cured of a disease, or is obliged daily 
 to take medicine to ward off sickness. 
 
24 PERSONAL BEAUTY. 
 
 Our own is not a temperate climate, and yet we have beauty 
 here in abundance, and should have more, did not utter subjec- 
 tion to fashion, a corrupt taste, and, above all, the continued 
 anxiety that arises from a false position, prevent it. Yet we 
 ever^^where see great personal beauty, not that which is perfect, 
 but still beauty ; and if any are so unfortunate as not to perceive 
 it, may it not be that, like Milton, *' they have become blinded 
 with the excess of light " *? 
 
 We here conclude what our limits permit us to devote to 
 the subject of personal beauty, natural and ideal. As the prin- 
 ciples of all beauty are the same, our argument will have a 
 general application, and can be employed to illustrate any object 
 that demands it. 
 
 Without aiming to give an exhaustive view of the principles 
 and philosophy of beauty, we yet hope that what has been said, 
 imperfect as it may be, in view of the vastness of the theme, will 
 be sufficient inducement to the lover of nature and art further to 
 pursue the examination, always keeping in mind that it is not 
 the canon or the rule of any art or science that is alone worthy 
 of investigation, but the reasons for those laws or canons. The 
 neglect to impart such knowledge characterizes in a great degree 
 the present, and must always constitute a great deficiency in any 
 system of education. 
 
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ESSAY II. 
 
 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 HAVING in the preceding Essay endeavored to present an 
 intelligible idea of the general principles of beauty, and 
 of the principles of general beauty, we are in some degTee pre- 
 pared to enter upon the consideration of an art that is chiefly 
 concerned in the representation of it on canvas. But before we 
 proceed to speak of the constituent parts of Painting, we will 
 describe the different classes into which it is divided ; and we 
 shall be the more particular in our analysis of some of the high- 
 est of these classes, because without a clear understanding of 
 this part of our subject it is utterly impossible for any one to 
 have a coiTect idea of any of the fine arts. 
 
 Painting is divided by the most judicious writers into four- 
 teen different classes : The Ejnc. Dramatic, Historic, Allegoric, 
 Portraiture, Landscape, Battle Pieces, Sea Views, Grotesque, 
 Architecture, Animals and Birds, Still Life, Fruits and Flowers. 
 
 Few persons recognize these distinctions, Historical Painting, 
 Landscape, Portraiture, Battle Pieces, Sea Views, Animals and 
 Birds, Fruits and Flowers, embracing, in their limited view, the 
 entire range of subjects. 
 
 This classification, however, is neither complete nor discrimi- 
 native, as a slight analysis will show that the great productions 
 of Michael Angclo are no nearer allied to tliose of Raphael than 
 the Paradise Lost of Milton is to the writings of Shakespeare, 
 and that the gi-and designs of both ]SIichael Angclo and Raphael, 
 usujdly classed as historic, diff'er as much from pure historic 
 delineations as ejnc and dramatic writings do from the narra- 
 tions of Hume or Bancroft ; so, too, that rustic or pa.«toral land- 
 scane diff"ers as much from that called classic and heroic, as the 
 
26 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 EclogLies of Virgil do from the vEneid or the IHad, and delinea- 
 tions of familiar life from many other kinds of pictorial rep- 
 resentations, as the ballad does from every other kind of 
 \\Titten composition. In fine, we shall discover, upon examina- 
 tion, that the same varieties exist in Painting as in letters, and 
 it will be the business of this essay to point out those distinc- 
 tions. 
 
 As several of the classes are sufficiently denoted by their 
 names, we will begin our analysis with a brief description of 
 
 GROTESQUE PAINTING. 
 
 The definition given by the books to the word grotesque is 
 " something distorted of figure, wildly formed, unnatiu'al." 
 
 It is for this reason that the term is employed to designate 
 such paintings as represent the nocturnal meetings of witches, 
 incantations, sorceries, and the like. 
 
 Of this class are Fuseli's pictures of " The Weird Sisters bub- 
 bling up from Earth," Sir Joshua Reynolds's "Caldron scene 
 in Macbeth," Weir's "Santa Clans going down the Chimney- 
 top," Smirk e's "Meeting between Falstaff and Mrs. Page and 
 ]\Irs. Ford at Heme's Oak," but, above all, Teniers's " Witch 
 coming from Hell with a lap full of charms," — a class which, 
 Dryden tells us, finds its resemblance in farce in poetry. 
 
 LANDSCAPE PAINTING. 
 
 This is the term used to designate such paintings as are the 
 transcript of a given spot, or a picturesque combination of 
 homogeneous objects, or the scene of a phenomenon. 
 
 The first of these divisions embraces what are commonly 
 called Vieivs, as the representation of a gentleman's country resi- 
 dence, or of some cit}^, as New York, and even of the Falls of 
 Niagara. 
 / It needs hardly to be remarked that this, under ordinary 
 circumstances, is the most humble kind of landscape painting, 
 little more than topography, without the merit of its mathemat- 
 
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 27 
 
 ical exactness ; the only redeeminii' quality about it, to give it 
 rank, value, and importance, resulting sometimes from tlic 
 poetic management of the sky, ett'ective disposition of the lights 
 and shadow, and tone of color, — ([ualities that depend more or 
 less upon the invention and taste of the artist, and do not neces- 
 sarily attach to the subject. This class is entirely distinct from 
 the second division, or Ideal Landscape. 
 
 Ideal landscape is the term employed to designate a combina- 
 tion of congenial ol)iects or scenery, selected and arranged to 
 suit the taste and foncy of the artist. Nicholas Poussin's land- 
 scapes are generally of this class, as also Claude's ; and in more/ 
 modern times most of those by Allston, and some by Bierstadt, 
 Church, and others of our American artists. The landscape 
 paintings by Turner, the great English artist, were more fre- 
 quently the representations of some given spot, the idealism 
 about them resulting in the manner just described, namely, from 
 the poetic management of the light and shadow, tone and color. 
 The four well-known designs by Claude, representing the four 
 parts of the day, " Morning," " Noon," " Evening," and " Night," 
 are fine specimens of ideal or composed landscapes. 
 
 Claude, like many or most other artists, ancient and modern, ^ 
 was accustomed in his rambles to transcribe into his sketch- 
 book every picturesque object he met with, — trees, rocks, 
 bridges, houses, castles, ruins, etc., and in his study, from these 
 materials, assisted by his imagination, to make up those beautiful 
 compositions that have given him the very highest position as 
 a landscape painter, Mr. Ruskin's opinion to the contrary not- ' 
 •withstanding. 
 
 This bringing together of separate parts of the material world 
 to make a congenial whole is but the method pursued by the 
 ancient sculptors in the composition of some of their most 
 beautiful figures, as previously pointed out ; and also by their 
 figure-painters, as by Zeuxis in his picture of Helen, which, we 
 ^re told, was modelled from seven of the handsomest females to 
 be found in all Greece ; and sometimes by the poet, as by Byron 
 in bis admirable description of the shipwreck in Don Juan, 
 which was drawn, as he himself tells us, " not from any single 
 
28 DIFFEEENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 narration, but from well-authenticated facts of several ship- 
 wrecks." 
 
 The terms classic and heroic are sometimes employed to desig- 
 nate this kind of landscape, to distinguish it from that called 
 pastoral or rustic, the representation of uncultivated nature. 
 Heroic as well as pastoral, how^ever, be it remembered, and in- 
 deed every kind of landscape painting, like the ideal in sculp- 
 ture, is intended to be a representation of nature. 
 
 It is claimed for these compositions of Claude that they are 
 historical landscapes, because he has introduced into each of 
 them groups of figures representing some historical incident. 
 In one of them — that called " Noon " — is the Holy Family 
 resting under the shadow of a tree on their journey into Egypt. 
 In another is a group, Jacob watering his sheep at a fountain 
 by the w^ayside. In another — that of Evening — are Tobias 
 and the angel. 
 
 In these paintings, although the several groups thus intro- 
 duced give an historical feature to them, yet they are, as in most 
 representations of the kind, a subordinate part of the composi- 
 tion, and are always out of place unless the kind of scenery and 
 the locality justify their introduction, — which is not here the 
 case, the materials for the four compositions being gathered 
 in Italy. In that representing '' Noon," there is indeed a dis- 
 tant view of the great pyramids, but they are surrounded by 
 Italian architectural ruins. The main design of Claude w^as to 
 make a landscape painting ; the figures were an afterthought, 
 and probably executed, as is often the case, by another artist. 
 
 There is, however, a species of landscape painting in which 
 the landscape is subordinate to the figiu*es, as in Carlo iVIaratti's 
 painting of "Jacob at the Well," and Guide's "Woman of Sa- 
 maria." In this case the landscape is introduced either to 
 exhibit — as in the last — some scenic propriety, or — as in the 
 former — as a mere embellishment of the historic design. 
 
 There is much difficulty always, in the combination of figurg 
 and landscape, in maintaining subordination and unity, yet pre- 
 serving the interest of the respective parts ; and in this most 
 artists fail, for either the landscape overwhelms the story, or the 
 
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 29 
 
 story discredits the landscape, or, the attention being equally 
 divided between the two, the interest of each is weakened, — as 
 is said to be the case with Gainsborough, often with Moreland, 
 and still more frequently in the Dutch school. In Claude's 
 representations of the four parts of the day, — some of the finest 
 things he ever executed, as far as the scenery, composition, and 
 coloring are concerned, — the two results just now indicated are 
 very apparent. The landscape overpowers the figures, and the 
 figures discredit the landscape. 
 
 A specimen of the third division of landscape, namely, " the 
 scene of a 'phenomenon^' is furnished in Danby's well-known de- 
 sign, " The Sun commanded to stand still by Joshua," and also 
 in that far superior production by Nicholas Poussin, " The Del- 
 uge," as it is called, — but improperly so, as it is only a scene 
 in the Deluge ; for, although it represents the dreary waste of 
 desolation, it is not the inundation of the world. 
 
 PORTPtAITURE. 
 
 Portraiture, in its most extended signification, means the 
 painted resemblance of any object. The term, however, is com- 
 monly employed to designate the exact representation upon 
 canvas of one of our own species. 
 
 Contrary to the almost universal impression, this is a very^ 
 high class of painting, in which fewer have excelled than in any 
 other department of the art. It is true, almost any one with 
 eyes and hands may, in the process of time, be taught to paint 
 what may with many pass for a good likeness, for the process up 
 to a certain point is merely mechanical ; if this were all, we 
 might possibly agree even with those who have been led, by an 
 ignorance of its true character and power, to consider portrait 
 painting as hardly worthy of a man of genius. Resemblance is 
 indeed wanted, but something more than that which is physical. 
 It certainly is not to such that belongs the above compli- 
 ment, but to that characteristic one, ftxithful and much 
 more than faithful,] by which, as Fuseli magnificently expresses 
 it, "Silanion, in the face of ApoUodorus, personified habitual 
 
30 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 indignation ; Apelles, in Alexander, superhuman ambition ; Raf- 
 faelle, in Julio Second, pontifical fierceness ; Titian, in Paulo 
 Third, testy age with priestly subtlety, and in Machiavelli and 
 Cgesar Borgia the features of conspiracy and of treason. That 
 portrait by which Rubens contrasted the physiognomy of philo- 
 sophic and classic acuteness with that of genius, in the conver- 
 sation piece of Grotius, Memmius, Lepsius, and himself; that 
 nice Jind delicate discrimination of Vandyck ; that power of 
 Reynolds, which substantiated humor in Sterne, tragedy in Sid- 
 dons, comedy in Garrick, and mental and corporeal strife in 
 Johnson, — this is portraiture worthy the highest genius, and 
 upon this basis it takes its place between history and the 
 drama." 
 
 ALLEGORIC PAIXTIXG. 
 
 There are those who doubt if there can be any such thing as 
 a truly allegoric painting, on account of the supposed confined 
 powers of the art in the way of narration ; a written allegory, 
 to which allegoric painting should run parallel, implying an 
 extended nan^ation, a continuous metaj^hor, — a metaphor being, 
 as every school-boy knows, "a figure of speech or thought, 
 founded upon a resemblance which one object bears to another, 
 and which is made to stand for it." 
 
 The objection, however, is not tenable ; for although narration 
 is the greatest difficulty of painting, as description is of writing, 
 if an allegory could not be represented in a single design it 
 miirht and has been done in a series, as in Cole's three well- 
 known paintings called " The Voyage of Life." 
 
 There is no gi-eat difficulty, however, in accomplishing it even 
 in a single design, as illustrated in " The School of Athens," 
 one of the series of frescos in the Vatican, by Raphael, painted 
 by order of Julius Second, and representing " the origin, progress, 
 and final establishment of Church government"; in which 
 picture " Raphael, designing to give an allegoric display of the 
 support derived to religion from the wisdom of man, has 
 brought together, in a room suitably decorated with statues 
 
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 31 
 
 of Apollo and Minerva, many persons of various times, countries, 
 and conditions, and distinguished in their day and generation 
 for their knowledge and improvements, to rei)rcsent the at- 
 tainments of science in the various modes of philosophy. 
 
 " Pythagoras, Zoroaster, Archimedes, Alcibiades, Diogenes, 
 Epictetus, Aristippus, Democritus, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, and 
 others are there, variously and characteristically employed, — 
 Aristotle, with his pupils, appearing to be listening to a dis- 
 course by Plato, the central figure and keystone of the whole, 
 which, by the upward pointing of his finger, may be supposed 
 to have relation to the doctrine of immortality, or the nature of 
 the worship due Jehovah ; the intended object of all which is 
 to declare that human acquirements in the discovery of truth 
 prepared the minds of men to receive the more perfect display 
 of it in the revelation of the Gospel." 
 
 The well-know^n painting by Schidoni, at Ptome, — so much 
 extolled by the Hon. George S. Hillard, one of the best of 
 American critics on art, — in which the figm'e of a beautiful 
 w-oman, well clad and apparently w^ell fed, to represent Abun- 
 dance, and distributing alms to tw^o lame, blind, and lean 
 beggars, to personify Suffering Want, and all to represent the 
 abstract idea of Charity, is generally classed as allegoric. It is, 
 however, simply si/iiiholic, for it tells no continuous story, but, 
 like the single figures of Justice, Prudence, Religion, luTiocence, 
 and others, by Raphael, among his frescos in the Vatican, rep- 
 resents only a single idea or quality. To this same class of 
 symbolic paintings also belong the two fine figures of Day and 
 Night, by ^lichael Angelo, on the tomb of the j\Iedici, at Flor- 
 ence, although usually spoken of as allegoric. 
 
 EPIC PAINTING. 
 
 This is the highest class of art, and admits of no easy analysis.^ 
 We are furnished by the books with several definitions of epic 
 ivritivrf, but none of them entirely satisfactory. That of Bossu, 
 that " it is a discourse, invented by art, to form the manners of 
 men by an allegory expressed in verse," has been accepted by so 
 
32 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 sensible a writer as Mr. Pope, but rejected by Mr. Blair, who 
 says that it would as well suit some of vEsop's fables if they 
 were somewhat extended and put into verse, and then declares 
 the plain account of an epic poem to be " the illustrating of 
 some great and general idea in verse, and that its aim is to arouse 
 admiration and astonishment." This we adopt as the best we 
 can find, as in the definition we discover the great characteristic 
 difference between epic and dramatic writing, "the tragedy of 
 which," says Mr. Blair, " has for its object compassion, and the 
 comedy of it ridicule." The epic is further distinguished from 
 the drama by the broad and liberal manner in which everything 
 is conducted, by its admitting no discrimination of character, 
 nothing, in short, that is individually characteristic, other than 
 as that individual trait illustrates the leading idea of the poem, 
 as exemplified in the parting scene between Hector and Andro- 
 mache in the Iliad, a poem whose subject is " War," — it being 
 there admitted, not to exhibit a phase of the character of Hec- 
 tor and Andromache, but because such scenes constitute a fea- 
 ture in all warlike operations. 
 
 These are the leading characteristics of epic as distinguished 
 from dramatic writing, while " from historic writing it is suffi- 
 ciently separated by its poetical form and the lilierty of fiction it 
 assumes, and from every form of comj^osition by its general 
 strain and spirit, — for whether in action, description, or senti- 
 ment, in the epic all is dignified, sublime, and elevated." 
 
 As already stated, we have found some difficulty in gathering 
 from the books a full and satisfactory definition of epic po^etry ; 
 but the general correctness of the outline here given finds its con- 
 firmation in the admirable criticism on the Iliad by that late emi- 
 nent Professor of the English Royal Academy, Fuseli, a writer to 
 whom we are largely indebted in this classification of painting. 
 "Homer," says Fuseli, "wishing to impress one forcible idea of 
 ?w<r," — for the epic always has for its object the illustrating 
 of some vast idea, some great maxim, to which act (that is, his- 
 tory) and agent (that is, character, or the drama) are subordi- 
 nate, — "Homer, wishing to impress one forcible idea of war, its 
 origin, its progress, and its end, set to work innumerable engines 
 
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 3.') 
 
 of various magnitudes, yet none but that uniformly tends to 
 force this and only this idea upon the mind. No character is 
 discriminated but where discrimination discovers a new look of 
 war ; no passion is raised but what is blown up by the breath of 
 w\ar, and as soon alisorbed in its universal blaze ; as in a confla- 
 gration we see turrets and spires and temples illuminated only 
 to pn^pagate the horrors of destruction, so, through the stormy 
 page of Homer, we see his heroes and his heroines only by the 
 light that blasts them." 
 
 This is the epic poet ; so also the epic painter, his aim being 
 equally to impress one general idea, is in like manner dignified, 
 sublime, and elevated, — dealing only in generals, excluding detail, 
 admitting no minute discrimination of character or introduction 
 of varied pathos, — not aiming to develop the man, to exhibit the 
 movements of the heart, as that w^oidd be dramatic, — not striving 
 to present the portraiture of a fact, as that would be historic, — 
 but causing all to bend to one great and leading idea, the visi- 
 ble agents he employs are only the agents to force that idea 
 irresistibly on the mind and fancy, as we see illustrated with 
 almost superhuman power in that sublime series of frcscos by 
 Michael Angelo, in the Sistine Chapel, representing Religion, or, 
 in other words, the origin, progress, and final dispensation of 
 Providence, as taught in the Sacred Records, — man, his ema- 
 nation from God, the object of his veneration, his fall, and 
 his expulsion from God's immediate presence, his reconciliation 
 through Christ, and his reunion with the Divine Being at the 
 last Judgment. 
 
 This great idea Michael Angelo attempted to convey and il- 
 lustrate by a series of designs, twenty or more in number, and 
 these are the titles : " The Forming of the World from Chaos ; " 
 '' The Creation of Adam " ; '* The Creation of Eve " ; " The Eat- 
 ing of the Forbidden Fruit " ; " The Expulsion from Paradise" ; 
 '' The Deluge " ; the scene between Noah and his sons ; sepa- 
 rate pictures of the prophets, sibyls, and patriarchs ; " The Bra- 
 zen Serpent" ; " Mordecai and Haman" ; "Judith and Holofer- 
 nes " ; and, finally, " The Last Judgment." 
 
 Now although each and every one of these pictures consti- 
 
34 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 tutes an independent whole, that is, is a complete design of itself, 
 yet they regularly lead to each other, without intermediate 
 chasms in the transitions, each preceding one preparing and 
 directing the conduct of the next, and that of the following, and 
 all conspiring to one great end. 
 
 Fuseli was the first to discover the sublime intent of its 
 great author, and his masterly manner of reading it precludes 
 all attempt at emendation j we therefore give it, word for word, 
 in his own language. 
 
 " The veil of eternity is rent. Time, space, and matter teem 
 in the creation of the elements and of earth. 
 
 " Life issues from God, and adoration from man, in the creation 
 of Adam and his mate. 
 
 " Transgression of the precept at the tree of knowledge proves 
 the origin of evil, and of expulsion from the immediate inter- 
 course with God. 
 
 "The economy of justice and grace commences in the revolu- 
 tions of the Deluge, and the covenant made with Noah. 
 
 " The germs of social intercourse are traced in the subsequent 
 scene between him and his sons. 
 
 " The awful synod of the prophets and sibyls are the heralds of 
 the Kedeemer, and the hosts of patriarchs are the pedigree of 
 the Son of man. 
 
 " The brazen serpent and the fall of Haman, the giant subdued 
 by the stripling David, and the conqueror subdued by female 
 weakness in Judith, are types of his mysterious progress, till 
 Jonah pronounces him immortal ; and the magnificence of the 
 last judgment, by showing the Saviour in the judge of men, 
 sums up the whole, and reunites the founder and the race." 
 / This is epic painting, as pure and perfect in all its parts as 
 the Iliad, Jerusalem Delivered, or Paradise Lost, and upon this 
 magnificent specimen rests the claim of Michael Angelo to be 
 called " the Homer of the art." 
 
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF TAINTING. 
 
 DKAMATIC PAINTING. 
 
 In our analysis of " the epic," we stated that the business of 
 both the epic poet and epic painter was the illustrating of some 
 great general idea, and that to this everything else was subor- 
 dinate. The fad, that is history ; iKission, character, and agent, 
 that is the drama. 
 
 On the other hand, " the avowed object of both the dramatic 
 writer and jminter is to exhibit character, to develop the pas- 
 sions, to lay open the heart, and to excite in every bosom cor- 
 responding emotions. Whatever, therefore, by reflected self- 
 love, inspires us with hope, fear, pity, terror, love, or mirth, is 
 the legitimate sphere of both the dramatic poet and painter'' 
 
 We might illustrate these characteristics by several examples, 
 for the art is full of dramatic paintings ; but for the present pur- 
 pose suffice it to direct the attention to one of Raphael's fres- 
 cos in the Vatican, called " La Incendio del Borgo," or the 
 bm-ning of a quarter of Rome that borders on St. Peter's, — one 
 of the extensive series of large paintings by that master, por- 
 traying " the origin, progress, and final establishment of Church 
 government." 
 
 " The conflagration that gave rise to this design occurred to- 
 wards the middle of the ninth century, under the pontificate of 
 Leo the Fourth. Its ravages even menaced the cathedral itself, 
 but its progress was stayed by the benediction of the Pope, who 
 appeared with great magnificence in the pontifical lodge, a 
 gallery in the peristyle of the Vatican ; " so says the historian. 
 
 " Now, although the subject is derived from history, yet Ra- 
 phael, in illustrating this event, has almost entirely sacrificed 
 that part of it to the eff'usion of the various passions roused by 
 the sudden terrors of a nocturnal conflagration, and instead of 
 displaying the effects of flame and smoke with all the attendant 
 circumstances, as they really did occur," as most artists would 
 have done, "he has represented the affecting scenes that might 
 occur upon a similar occasion an^'where," at Rome or New 
 York, Paris or Boston, in the village or the city. " For a frantic 
 mother endeavoring to save her helpless infants ; a kind and 
 
36 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 affectionate son bearing from the rushing ruins an aged and 
 palsied father ; a son of nature, intent only on his own safety, 
 liberating a leap from the burning walls; and a prayer sent 
 up by the thoughtful for heavenly protection, — are actions as 
 likely to be performed in one place as another," — upon the 
 banks of the Thames or the Mystic as upon those of the Tiber ; 
 for human nature is the same everywhere now as a thousand 
 years ago, and will be the same a thousand years hence, and as 
 long as man continues upon this earth. 
 
 Raphael's design being to portray the common events of a 
 nocturnal conflagration, rather than of this particular conflagra- 
 tion, or any prominent part the Pope performed in it, he has 
 not cared to draw attention to him in any w-ay, nor has he de- 
 lineated the Italian physiognomy in preference to any other ; 
 and as for national costume, it is entirely disregarded. 
 
 It is true he has introduced the Pope and his train into the 
 composition ; " but w^hile the other incidents furnish pathetic 
 motives that touch our hearts," and that is the dramatic of the 
 scene, "the Pontiff, the miracle, and the clergy," and that is the 
 history of it, " are left unheeded in the distance. The fact has 
 been sunk in the passion." 
 
 This is the tragedy oi dramatic 'painting, — we say the tragedy, 
 for it has also its comedy, — and the effect of such a representation 
 upon the feelings, as compared wdth that of the epic, is as the 
 effects of the pathetic tones of the human voice contrasted with 
 the heavy rollings of "that deep and dreadful organ-pipe of na- 
 ture," the thunder, — the one melts, the other terrifies and 
 astounds. 
 
 As Michael Angelo has ever been considered the father of epic 
 painting, so Raphael has ever been regarded as the father of 
 dramatic painting, and " La Incendio del Borgo" shows that he 
 possessed an intuition of the pure emanations of nature that 
 fully entitles him to be called " the Shakespeare of the art." 
 
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 37 
 
 HISTORIC PAINTING. 
 
 " Historic " is a term not imfrequently employed by those who 
 are imperfectly acquainted with the technicalities and philosophy 
 of Art to designate almost anything that is neither landscape nor 
 portraiture ; it may, however, with strict propriety be applied to 
 both one and the other. Portraiture in the hands of Titian, 
 Reynolds, Stuart, and others, and landscape in the hands of 
 Claude, Poussin, and others, sometimes became historical. 
 
 Specimens of historical landscape were referred to when de- 
 scribing that class of painting. A specimen of historic portraiture 
 is furnished us in Reynolds's fine portrait of General Elliot, after- 
 wards Lord Heathfield, the British commander at Gibraltar 
 in the 3'ear when it was attacked by the combined French and 
 Spanish forces, — an event that has been well represented by 
 Copley in a painting belonging to the Boston Athseneum. 
 
 Now Reynolds's design in this painting was not simply to 
 give a portrait of Mr. Elliot, but of General Elliot, not only that, 
 but of the successful defender of Gibraltar upon that occasion. 
 
 He has therefore represented him in his military costume, 
 and holding in his hands a key, in symbolic allusion to the fact 
 of that citadel being the key to the Mediterranean. In the dis- 
 tance may be seen the two squadrons at the moment of battle, 
 and behind him a cannon pointed downwards to show the 
 loftiness of the fortress, — all which surroundings connect him 
 with that transaction, and thus make the representation a good 
 illustration of historic portraiture. 
 
 But to define the class under consideration more particularly, 
 it may be proper to state that the painter of pure history does 
 not, like the dramatic painter, represent that which might he, but 
 that which ivas or is. He gives a " local habitation and a 
 name," he fixes the moment of reality, he informs. 
 
 Of this class of painting, familiar examples present themselves 
 in " The Death of Montgomery," by Trumbull, " The Death of 
 Wolfe," by West, "The Death of Chatham," by Copley, and 
 " Washington crossing the Delaware," by Sully. 
 
 Although all of these have many defects, both in design and 
 
38 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 in composition and color, yet the attention is invited to that of 
 " The Death of Chatham," as the artist has invested it with many 
 of those characteristics that distinguish this class of painting 
 from those already described, namely, the Epic and Dramatic. 
 
 This composition represents a scene that occurred in the 
 English House of Lords, A. D. 1778, when the elder Pitt, Lord 
 Chatham, left his sick-bed to be present on amotion of the Duke 
 of Richmond to address the King on the state of the nation. 
 He had spoken once, was rising to speak the second time, but, 
 faltering, sat down ; attempted it once more, but again faltered, 
 and fell into the arms of those near him. 
 
 The object of the painter, therefore, being in this picture to 
 give the idea of a member of the English House of Lords dying, 
 surrounded by his associates, and that member " the immortal 
 Chatham," paralyzed, struck down in the midst of his parliamen- 
 tary labors, — it may have been, by the thunders of his own elo- 
 quence, — it became him to invest the composition with all the 
 real modification of time, place, and circumstance that should 
 distinguish this moment of alarm and grief from all others. He 
 has not, therefore, dealt in generals (for that would be epic), but 
 particulars ; has not brought together characters fittest to excite 
 the gradations of sympathy (for that would be dramatic) ; but 
 we there behold everything as it actually was, and actually oc- 
 curred, — an exact representation of the hall in which the event 
 transpired, even of the tapestry that adorned its walls ; we have 
 too the very figure, face, and, perhaps, expression of Chatham, 
 the ph3^siognomic character of him and his compeers, and all 
 stamped by the ceremonial and distinctive costume of the Upper 
 House of the Parliament of Great Britain in the year 1778. 
 
 Although this painting does not place Copley by the side of 
 the old masters, ^^et it gives him a very respectable rank as an 
 historical painter. It has about it one circumstance that shows 
 him to have been a considerate, thoroughbred gentleman, namely, 
 the manner of arranging the assembly around the hero of the 
 piece. Supposing that assembly desirous of preserving the life 
 of Chatham, he has brought about him only as many of his 
 friends as were absolutely necessary for his comfort, — an arrange- 
 
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 39 
 
 ment that left a free passage for the circulation of air, so im- 
 portant to one supposed to be in the agonies of death ; thus 
 showing not simply his own sense of proi)riety, but likewise the 
 kind and dignified manners of thoroughbred people, — an idea 
 that never would have occurred to a vulgar artist. 
 
 AVe stated just now that the painter of pure history presents 
 us with " the portraiture of a fact." From this, however, it is 
 not to be inferred that every pictorial delineation of a past event 
 is entitled to be called an historical picture, though the subject 
 of it be derived from a printed record. 
 
 *'The fact presented must be something momentous, impor- 
 tant, and of general interest, treated in a grave and dignified 
 manner." 
 
 " "Washington crossing the Delaware with his Troops," by 
 Sully, is an historical painting ; but the painting some time since 
 on exhibition, representing Sergeant Smith's escape from the 
 British, is not, although that event is recorded in the annals of 
 the War of the Revolution. 
 
 If paintings of this description be historical in any sense, they 
 belong to a very subordinate species, and hold the same rank by 
 the side of such great and important delineations as will readily 
 occur to any one from both sacred and profane writings, as pri- 
 vate memoirs do by the side of such works as Hume's History 
 of England, Bancroft's History of the United States, or Motley's 
 History of the Dutch Republic. 
 
 Such are some of the stricter outlines of those three highest 
 branches of art, epic, dramatic, and historic painting. But as 
 "their near alliance admits not always a nice discrimination of 
 their limits, as the mind and fancy of man consists upon the 
 whole of mixed principles, we seldom meet, either in letters or in 
 art, with a human performance made up entirely of either ejnc, 
 dramatic, or pure historic materials, — combined as they are 
 among themselves, sometimes we find them calling in the aid of 
 allegory." 
 
 The well-know^n series of large designs belonging to the 
 French government, and painted by Rubens, called " The 
 Gallery of the Luxembourg," representing some passages in the 
 
40 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 life of Mary de Medici, belong to the class of " combined historic 
 and allegoric." 
 
 " In one of them the artist has represented the royal maiden 
 at the Poetic Fount surrounded by the Graces, and introduced 
 by Minerva, — the symbols of the education received by that 
 Princess." 
 
 Another example presents itself in " The Finding of Moses" by 
 Poussin, " in the personification of the genius of the river in the 
 figure of a water-god." 
 
 Of the historic and dramatic combined, a remarkable instance 
 may be found in what are commonly called " The Cartoons." 
 
 The word " cartoon" is a general term used to designate a 
 drawing in charcoal or colors upon either paper or canvas, 
 sometimes only an outline of a group or single figure, to be 
 transferred to and finished upon the wall or ceiling or canvas. 
 
 When, however, " The Cartoons " are spoken of, they always 
 mean a series of designs by Raphael, orginally twenty or more 
 in number, but now by loss reduced to seven, and about 
 eighteen feet by twelve in size, painted upon canvas as models 
 for tapestry, by order of Leo the Tenth, and representing " The 
 Origin, Economy, and Progress of the Christian Religion." 
 
 Seven of them are the property of the British government, 
 and the subjects of them are : " Paul preaching" ; " The Mirac- 
 ulous Draught"; "Christ giving the Keys to Peter"; "The 
 Death of Ananias"; " Elymas struck blind"; "The Sacrifice 
 at Lystra" ; and " Peter and John healing the Lame Man at the 
 Gate of the Temple." 
 
 As is well known, they rank among the highest efforts of art, 
 and there are those who think there can scarcely be named a 
 beauty or a m3^stery of which " The Cartoons " furnish not an 
 example. We have no space to devote to a further description, 
 nor is it necessary, as it can be found almost everywhere. We 
 have only referred to them at all for the purpose of illustrating, 
 by the first mentioned, the following class of art. 
 
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 41 
 
 COMBINED HISTORIC AND DRAMATIC PAINTING. 
 
 The record tells us that while Paul was disputing in the 
 synagogue with the Jews and other devout persons at Athens, 
 he was encountered by certain philosophers of the Epicureans 
 and Stoics, who, being desirous to know more particularly 
 concerning the new doctrine, had the Apostle brought to the 
 Ai'eopagus or Mars Hill. 
 
 He has ascended the steps of a temple, and from his ges- 
 tm-e and attitude may be supposed to be announcing, to the as- 
 sembled people, Christ, the resurrection, and the unknown God. 
 
 Now, at first sight, this composition might seem to possess 
 all the requisites of a pure historical composition, that is, to be 
 a correct representation of the fact set forth in the Scriptural 
 record ; but a slight examination will show important variations. 
 
 In the first place, as it regards the person of Paul. Instead 
 of being portrayed, agreeably to the Apostle's own account of 
 himself, of " an humble exterior," the painter has invested him 
 with ever}' circumstance that could give him importance. 
 
 This is not objected to. We only state a fact ; for Eaphael, 
 knowing that painting can express its meaning only through 
 the medium of form, was perhaps compelled to give him an 
 appearance corresponding to the dignity of his calling and his 
 character, otherwise he could not have satisfied the idea every 
 one forms of the personnel of Paul from his writings and his 
 record. This mode of representation, as far as it goes, takes the 
 painting out of the class of the purely historic. 
 
 And then the assemblage itself, instead of being made up 
 of such persons as might be supposed to have followed the 
 Epicureans and the Stoics in their retreat from the market- 
 place, is not a promiscuous group, but a selected audience, 
 each figure representing a sect or class of all the differ- 
 ent kinds of philosophy then in vogue at Athens. " The 
 Cynic, the Stoic, the disciple of Plato, the disputants of the 
 Academy, the Sophists, are all there, characteristically deline- 
 ated ; the Jewish doctor, who has turned his back upon the 
 speaker and rejected the mission, with Damaris and Dionysius, 
 
42 DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 
 
 who announce by their impassioned looks and gestures their re- 
 nunciation of idolatry and acceptance of the Christian faith." 
 
 In this mode of representation it will be seen that a broader 
 field for Raphael's dramatic power was obtained than if he 
 had strictly followed the Scriptural record, and that "although 
 the fact therein set forth is not entirely lost sight of, it has been 
 made in a great degree the medium tlirough v/hich to display 
 the agent, his passion and character, — or, in other words, the 
 effect produced upon a learned audience by a doctrine new and 
 important." 
 
 In " La Incendio del Borgo " the historical fact is entirely 
 absorbed in the passion ; here there is a union of the two, and 
 this composition presents as good an example, probably, as 
 could be found of " combined historic and dramatic painting." 
 
 The different manner in which these several classes impress 
 us is worthy of observation, as it may assist us in determining 
 the class to which paintings belong, or at least enable us to de- 
 tect their leading features. 
 
 In viewing an historical composition like that of " The Death 
 of Chatham," the sentiment chiefly aroused is that of curiosity. 
 We look at the man ; we examine his person and that of his 
 compeers, their dress, the room, its adornments. Little feel- 
 ing is awakened. But immediately the eye falls upon a dra- 
 matic representation like that of " La Incendio del Borgo," the 
 heart is touched, the affections are excited ; we bear a part of 
 the burden of the son ; we fly with the mother to the rescue of 
 her child ; we hope, we fear, — we experience, by turns, all the 
 several passions there developed. Here the eye has little desire 
 to be gratified, — it looks not to the form, the costume, the place ; 
 but we feel, and we feel because a corresponding chord is struck 
 in every human bosom. 
 
 In looking at such compositions as that of Paul, the feeling, 
 as the design itself, is compound. At first we think of Paul, the 
 Areopagus, the market-place ; we examine the audience ; we 
 approach the speaker, and as we gaze, the magic of his eloquence 
 falls upon the ear ; we listen, and as we hear, each, according to 
 his disposition, objects with the Cynic, becomes incredulous with 
 
DIFFERENT CLASSES OF PAINTING. 43 
 
 the Stoic, with the disciple of Plato is pleased with the beauty 
 of the doctrine, accepts it with Damaris and Dionysiiis, or re- 
 jects it with the Jew. 
 
 How different from all and each the ejnc ! Here curiosity has 
 no wish to be gratified, the eye no desire to be satisfied. Man, 
 his feelings, his sufferings, his character, his passions, makes no 
 appeal to the human bosom. It is God, God's providence, which 
 alone we contemplate, which absorbs all our thoughts, and leaves 
 us transfixed with wonder and amazement. 
 
ESSAY III. 
 
 INVENTION. 
 
 HAVING now considered, to the extent our limits will 
 permit, the principles of beauty, and described, as we 
 trust, mtelligibly, the different classes of painting, we come 
 next briefly to examine the first of its constituent portions, in- 
 vention, — composition being the second, design third, chiaro- 
 oscuro fourth, color fifth, and expression the sixth and last. 
 / Invention holds the first place, not only in the order of enu- 
 meration, but likewise in value and importance ; for it is that 
 lofty quality of the human mind that unequivocally distin- 
 guishes the pioneer from the follower, the originator from the 
 imitator and copyist. 
 
 Pan, when he first tuned his pipe to music in the forest of 
 Arcadia, and the Cretan maid, when she drew on the heaven- 
 lighted wall the likeness of her departing lover, were inventors 
 in the highest signification of the term, the chosen of the 
 Almighty to impart some new evidence of his benevolence to 
 man. 
 
 This is the loftiest effort of the inventive faculty. There is, 
 however, a subordinate exercise of it, not that which is em- 
 , ployed in the discovery or revelation of any new art or science, 
 but in the extension of its limits — as of painting by Hogarth 
 — to the purposes of satire, or in the application of the princi- 
 ples of the art to illustrating in a novel and ingenious manner 
 some old or hitherto unattempted subject. 
 
 This last is the ordinary business of the inventive faculty. Of 
 the many topics that present themselves for consideration under 
 this general head, we shall confine our remarks to three only, 
 namely, the selection of a subject within the scope of art, the 
 
INVENTION. 45 
 
 sources whence an artist generally derives his theme, and the 
 point of time most fitting for representation. And first of the 
 selection of a subject. 
 
 When an artist sits down before his easel, on which is sus- 
 pended a piece of pure white canvas, if he would not throw away 
 his time and materials, he should first be sure that he has a sub- 
 ject ; for, strange as it may seem, there are a great many paint- 
 ings otherwise well executed that have none. There are those 
 who think one presents itself among " The Cartoons," " The De- 
 livery of the Keys to St. Peter " representing a numerous group 
 of grave and devout characters, in attitudes of anxious debate 
 and eager curiosity, pressing forward to witness the behest of a 
 person who with one hand presents two massy keys to the fore- 
 most on his knees, and with the other hand points to a flock of 
 sheep grazing behind. 
 
 Now the design of Raphael in this composition was, doubtless, 
 not only to give the characteristic attitudes, forms, and expres- 
 sion of Christ and his disciples at the time he bade them go 
 preach the gospel to every nation, but that from the attending 
 circumstances should be inferred the command itself, and that 
 its object was the propagation of the gospel under the general 
 superintendence of St. Peter as the great shepherd of souls, 
 head of the church, and keeper of the fold upon earth, and it 
 may be, in addition, keeper of the gates of heaven. 
 
 This, probably, was Pvaphael's design in this picture. The 
 question, then, to be answered is, whether he has accomplished it. 
 
 Although the grouping in this composition is good, and the 
 diversity of character well marked, yet, as it is impossible to 
 trace the connection between those keys that Peter holds in 
 his hand and the pasturing herd, or to discover in the other- 
 wise obtrusive allegory or symbol the real motives of the emo- 
 tion that inspires the apostolic group, it has been pronounced 
 by that learned critic, painter, and professor, Fuseli, "a com- 
 position without a subject." And the decision, if well founded, 
 settles the character and the fate of a large portion of the paint- 
 ings that hang upon our walls, or are seen in our exhibition 
 rooms, — they tell no story ; it is not enough that the artist 
 
46 INVENTION. 
 
 tells one for them when, in the catalogue, he calls his picture 
 this, that, or the other, and the engraver indorses it all in decisive 
 black letters, directly under the middle of the transcript. 
 
 Every painting that is up to its theme should tell its own 
 story without assistance, and impress the spectators as does 
 the written description ; this is the test of a well-constructed 
 picture. 
 
 The difficulty here results not oftener from the inability of the 
 artist than from the theme itself not being within the capabili- 
 ties of the art ; the picture presented to the mind's eye bj^ the 
 written description oftener deriving its effect and its interest 
 from circumstances not actually present, from metaphor, from 
 passionate sentiment, which cannot be expressed on canvas, — 
 as would be the case with the story of the girl who 
 
 " . . . . never told her love, 
 But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud, 
 Feed on her damask cheek," etc. 
 
 Now this, at first thought, is a very inviting subject for the 
 pencil, and there have been frequent attempts to put the picture 
 on canvas, but it has always resulted in the portrayal simply 
 of a " consumptive," whose fate may be well symbolized by the 
 falling leaves of a wounded, dying rose, and that is all one can 
 get from it ; her concealed love is still concealed, or is known 
 only by reading the title of the painting in the catalogue. When 
 one learns this from the book, or is kindly informed of it by the 
 artist, the interest increases ; but it does not result from any- 
 thing in the painting. Unless one had such assistance at hand 
 he never could discover what was intended by the delineation. 
 ' Not so with " The Death of Chatham," " The Burning of 
 the Borgo," the Madonnas of Raphael; " Dimcan Gray" and 
 " The Rent-Day " by Wilkie, and others that must readily occur 
 to any one acquainted with art. These are paintings whose sub- 
 jects are within the capabilities of the art, that tell their own 
 story without obliging one to resort to the catalogue, the artist, 
 or the engraver's inscription; and they are generally interesting 
 and intelligible, because they speak the voice of nature, the lan- 
 miaffe of the heart. 
 
INVENTION. 47 
 
 The topic that under the head of Invention next suggests it- 
 self relates to the sources whence the artist generally selects 
 his subject. 
 
 Among the old Italian masters, the subjects of painting were 
 generally taken either from history, popular tradition, heathen 
 mythology, or the lives of the saints and martyrs ; there are 
 but few derived from poetry, — of works of the highest fame 
 only one, " The Last Judgment," by Michael Angelo, the hints for 
 which were furnished by Dante's Inferno. 
 
 In the present age, however, poetry furnishes by far the 
 greatest number of subjects, whilst the joys and sufferings of the 
 saints and martyrs, since the powers of the Romish Church have 
 become circumscribed and its means of patronage limited, have 
 been almost entirely neglected. 
 
 Heathen mythology, too, which fifty years since nearly mo- 
 nopolized the pencil of the artist, seems to have lost its hold on 
 the public taste ; and whilst the Sacred Records have not been 
 entirely neglected, a very large number of modern artists have 
 found subjects for the canvas in the pages of romance, the repre- 
 sentation of the material universe, the animal creation, and the 
 events and imagery of common life. The pages of satire, too, 
 have furnished their quota of subjects ; and in the more direct 
 exposition of the follies of vice, fashion, and immorality have 
 afforded a fine offset and foil to the more agreeable display of 
 virtuous conduct. 
 
 It will thus be seen, that, while the boundaries of art have 
 been extended, a very great change has taken place in regard to 
 the sources whence it derives its subjects, and consequently 
 that a very gi-eat change has taken place in the public feelings 
 and taste, — for the arts, like the stage, do but echo back the 
 public voice. 
 
 Whether the change has been for the better we cannot tell. 
 In the opinion of some, it indicates in the public less regard for 
 religion, and a greater readiness to lay bare to public inspection 
 and ridicule the vices and follies of society ; but with it also is 
 exhibited more sympathy with and a keener love for the beau- 
 ties of nature, and a higher appreciation of the domestic virtues. 
 
48 INVENTION. 
 
 We have considered thus far only the foreign sources whence 
 an artist generally derives his subjects. Sometimes he chooses 
 to be wholly original, and combine them from himself, as did 
 Allston in his " Spanish Maid in Revery," " Fair Inez," " The 
 Roman Lady"; Raphael, in most of his Madonnas, " The School 
 of Athens," etc. ; and Michael Angelo, in his so-called '' Battle of 
 Pisa," of which we shall speak hereafter. 
 
 In these compositions it is only the subject that is original, 
 the naked idea only is invented ; but in Fuseli's well-known 
 design of " The Nightmare," representing a female reclining 
 upon a bed with a " squab fiend sitting upon her breast as she 
 sleeps," not only is the subject original, but the fiend himself is 
 a purely ideal figure, nothing like it, as a whole, being to be 
 found in nature. 
 
 In viewing such original compositions, we are almost inclined 
 to attribute to the artist the powers of creation, forgetting that 
 to create is to give existence to something that never before had 
 existence in ivhole or in parts ; and all pictorial representations, 
 be they ever so original in their construction, are, at the best, 
 only new combinations of old existences. 
 
 Professor Agassiz, who examined this drawing of " The Night- 
 mare," and another of a " Devil tormenting St. Anthony," by 
 Salvator Rosa, thought he detected in the head of the former the 
 monkey with ass's ears, and in the head of the latter the hog, 
 in the beak some ravenous bird, in the arms the skeleton wings 
 of the eagle, in the legs the bones of a man, and in the tail 
 the monkey. The original of all but the head of " The Night- 
 mare " he could not determine with any exactness, but he had 
 no doubt of its being selected and combined from real exist- 
 ences. Nor could it be otherwise, as Mr. Addison remarks in 
 one of his papers in the Spectator. " We cannot," he says, " have 
 a single image in the fancy that did not at first make its entrance 
 through the sight ; but we have the power of retaining, altering, 
 and compounding those images into all the varieties of picture 
 and vision most agreeable to us." The same idea has been 
 strongly expressed and extended by Fuseli, when, in one of his 
 admirable discourses, he says : "Man can only find out and bring 
 
INVENTION. 49 
 
 'together into one body scattered 2^<^rts, and thus compose a neiv 
 form, one that, as a whole, did not before exist, — that is, he 
 can invent (find out), but he cannot create. Creation impHes 
 omnipotence, and belongs only to God." 
 
 This same method of uniting old and scattered materials to 
 produce new forms obtains likewise in the structure and pictorial 
 representation of centaurs and satyrs, elves and fairies, wizards 
 and witches, ghosts and hobgoblins, sylphs and naiads, mer- 
 maids, angels, and cherubs. 
 
 All representations of angels, are but refinements of our 
 own corruptible bodies, with the addition of dove's wings ; so 
 also the cherubim and seraphim of Scripture, save that from the 
 former the body is omitted, although we sometimes see them 
 painted with the entire figure. 
 
 All attempts to portray the Divine Being have resulted in 
 giving us nothing more than the venerable form of an aged man, 
 "not because," as remarked by Reynolds, "we are said to have 
 been created in his image, but because it is impossible to conceive 
 of any form more grand in nature." The Greek sculptors did 
 nothing more for Jupiter, the father of gods, with a few symbols 
 added. It is in the venerable form of an aged man that Raphael 
 has portrayed the Almighty in his fresco in the Vatican of '"God 
 dividing the Light from the Darkness," and Michael Angelo in 
 that other greater production, " God creating Adam and Eve." 
 
 " The Cumean Sibyl " by this same master, in the Sistine 
 Chapel, is but a better kind of witch ; and, if resemblance 
 proves relationship, it has been the mother of all the pictorial 
 delineation of witches, down through Reynolds, Fuseli, and 
 AUston to the present day, — a large-boned, sharp-featured, tall, 
 thin, bent-over " old woman," just the form that Shakespeare 
 p-ave the skin-dried hao'S, as thev sat mumblins: over the 
 charmed pot in Macbeth, and in which, afterwards, Hecate and 
 her infernal gang encountered Banquo and the Scottish king 
 upon the blasted heath. 
 
 And that other creature of the imagination, the fairy, 
 whether represented by the artist bathing in a dew-drop by 
 sunshine, or recUning on a bed of flowers, or dancing on meadow 
 4 
 
50 INVENTION. 
 
 or woodland by moonlight, it is always as the diminutive of our 
 own species, — the tiniest bit of mortality, it is true, but in form 
 and feature exactly like ourselves, save the wing imagination 
 has given it; and this is an addition from a real existence, 
 a butterfly's wing, — the precise manner in which Shakespeare 
 has constructed the equipage of Queen Mab : — 
 
 " Her wagon-spokes made of long spinners' legs ; 
 The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ; 
 The traces, of the smallest spider's web ; 
 The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams: 
 The whip, of cricket's bone; the lash, of film: 
 Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat, 
 Her chariot an empt}' hazel-nut, 
 Made by the joiner squirrel, or old gnib, 
 Time out of mind the fairies' coachmakers." 
 
 Besides the two classes of subjects now described, the derived 
 and invented, there is another between the two in which the 
 subject is neither wholly invented nor wholly derived, being 
 nowhere described, but only hinted at by the ^mter or referred 
 to by the poet or historian, as that of " The Court of Titania," 
 a design by Allston, and " The Dinner at Page's House," from 
 the Meny Wives of Windsor, by Leslie, — the first a composi- 
 tion (existing in outline only) representing a wild wood, in the 
 centre of which is a small lake, and on the border of this are 
 a dozen or more fairies hand in hand, dancing their fantastic 
 rounds, whilst other fairies and infant fays are threading their 
 way in the most sportive manner through the beautiful foliage, 
 until they are finally lost in almost imperceptible diminutive- 
 ness in the moonbeams above. On the right of the canvas are 
 three full-grown fairies grouped as the Graces, and between 
 them and the dancers is Titania herself, reclining on a bank 
 of flowers, and directly over her head two other fairies, — the 
 ladies of the bedchamber we may suppose them to be, — fan- 
 ning her gently with butterfly wings ; directly behind the queen, 
 and a little elevated, is the choir, — a half-dozen fairies playing 
 on musical instruments made of flower-stems, the bluebell serv- 
 ing for a trumpet. 
 
 Leslie's composition represents an antiquated room in Page's 
 
INVENTION. 51 
 
 house at Windsor, in which is a table extending nearly from one 
 end to the other (and of much the same form as that in "The 
 MaiTiage at Cana," by Paul Veronese), covered with an abundance 
 of good things, and seated at the three sides, in characteristic at- 
 titudes, are all the personages that figure in the play, — Falstaff, 
 Shallow, Slender, Sir Hugh Evans, Dr. Caius, Mr. Ford, Mr. 
 Page, Anne Page, Nym, Pistol, and Bardolph ; Anne Page pledg- 
 ing Slender in a glass of w^ine at one end of the table, while 
 FalstafF, at the other end, has apparently just w^heeled his huge 
 carcass round to cast a glance at the two ladies, Mrs. Ford and 
 Mrs. Page, entering the room through an open do.orway on the 
 left. 
 
 Now nothing could be more beautiful than Allston's design, 
 or more lifelike and natural than Leslie's, and one would be in- 
 clined, in looking at it, to believe, had the daguerreotype been 
 then invented, that it was a transcript of an actual feast, made 
 by that instrument ; and yet both of them are almost the pro- 
 duct of the imagination of the artists, — the first scene being not 
 at all described by the poet, but only hinted by him in the 
 simple declaration, " Titania holds her court to-night " ; the 
 second, where in the play Page says, " Wife, bid these gentle- 
 men welcome. — We have a hot venison pasty to dinner. I 
 hope we shall drink down all unkindness." 
 
 The remaining topic under the head of Invention now to be 
 considered relates to the 2^oint of time most fitting for representa- 
 tion, and that, says Fuseli, should be " the middle moment," — 
 a moment, that, like the two genii that attend upon Michael 
 Angelo's prophets and sibyls, looks back to the past and points 
 forward to the future. 
 
 The meaning of this may be well illustrated by two paintings 
 of the same subject, "Judith and Holofernes," — the one by 
 Allori, of the old Italian school ; and the other by Mr. West (not 
 Benjamin), an artist of good ability, who pursued his profession 
 during many years in Europe, came to the United States, passed 
 some years in Boston, and died about ten years since. 
 
 In Allori's painting (a three quarters' length), Judith, with a 
 large grisly head in one hand, and a drawn sword in the other. 
 
52 __ INVENTION. 
 
 is represented standing and looking towards the spectator; 
 the maid a little in the rear, her head appearing just over the 
 shoulder of Judith. The face of Judith, and also her figure, are 
 very beautiful, and, with her gorgeous apparel, well fitted to 
 attract and win the admiration of Holofernes. 
 
 In West's composition, Judith, in rich attire, with dishevelled 
 hair and blood-dripping sword, and the half-concealed head of 
 Holofernes, is seen rushing from beneath the half-raised curtains 
 of one tent ; the maid appearing through an opening in another 
 tent, a watchful expectant of the murderous act. It will thus 
 be seen that .the moment selected by the two artists for repre- 
 sentation, and the manner of treating the subject, are entirely 
 different. 
 
 In Allori's composition all is quiet and motionless. The 
 storm has ceased its fury, and all has settled to a calm. The 
 moment of uncertainty has passed, and we see the result. 
 
 In West's, all is tempestuous. The thunder-cloud, it is true, 
 had passed, but the peal rolls fearfully over our head, and w^e 
 know not with certainty the extent of the destruction. 
 
 In the one the drama, is still going on, and all is activity and 
 movement ; in the other the drama has closed, the curtain has 
 dropped, and the actors stand before it only to receive the ap- 
 proval of the audience. Mr. West, therefore, in point of time, 
 has done better than Allori ; but, as a work of art, his jDroduc- 
 tion, although very creditable, does not of course compare with 
 that of the old Italian master. 
 
 Subjects like these are not fit for the pencil ; for a delicate 
 female with a blood-dripping sword in one hand and a grisly 
 head in the other presents nothing that is feminine, amiable, or 
 agreeable, although in this case a remembrance of the Scripture 
 \ record may throw around the event the halo of patriotism. 
 \ But if the artist should select the middle moment, the mo- 
 ment of uncertainty, for representation, so also is he required 
 not to combine in the same composition events of two different 
 periods, although it has been done by Eaphael himself in a 
 painting that has been called the greatest triumph in art, " The 
 Transfiguration," uniting the transfiguration of Christ on Tabor 
 
INVENTION. 53 
 
 with the prcseiitiition of the maniac boy for cure, an event that 
 did not take phice until after Christ's descent from the mount. 
 
 The object Raphael had in view in thus doing was to repre- 
 sent the divine character of Christ, and at the same time to 
 portray him as the reliever of human misery. He is thought to 
 have been successful, but it is an offence against chronology and 
 a precedent hardly to be imitated, although he has, in one view 
 of the matter, connected the events and made them one by the 
 uplifted hand of the Apostle in the centre of the lower group, 
 who appears referring the father of the child, in an authorita- 
 tive manner, for speedy and certain cure, to his Master on the 
 mountain, whose altitude at once connects him with all that 
 passes below. 
 
ESSAY lY. 
 
 COMPOSITION. 
 
 COMPOSITION, or, as it is sometimes called. Disposition, 
 the second of the constituent parts of art, is, like inven- 
 tion, a purely mental operation, for until the assistance of design, 
 or drawing, is obtained, nothing can be expressed upon canvas. 
 
 We shall consider composition under two heads : first, as it 
 operates by picturesque arrangements to please the eye, and, 
 second, as it gives expression to the story by preserving a cor- 
 respondence between the materials employed and the sentiment 
 of the subject, the requirement and intention being in all cases 
 to make every part of composition an echo to the sense. And 
 first of the manner of so shaping and arranging the materials as 
 to render the canvas agreeable without much reference to the 
 subject, for the^rs^ thing to he aimed at in painting is to mahe a 
 pictu7^e. 
 
 When discoursing on beauty, we took occasion to say that all 
 the varieties of objects, as far as their contours or surfaces are 
 concerned, emanate from a straight line and a curve, these being, 
 either separate or combined, the boundaries of everything that 
 has form, but that a difference in the proportionate arrangement 
 of straight lines and cui-ves entitled such form or object to be 
 characterized as either tigly or heautiful. 
 V It was further stated that lines running in one direction were 
 acknowledged to be more beautiful than lines running in another 
 direction ; that parallel lines were not felt to be so beautiful as 
 rectangular ; that these possessed less inherent beauty than 
 diagonal lines, and these less than the curved ; that the double 
 curve or line of beauty was more charming than the preceding, 
 and the spiral or line of grace was more beautiful even than that. 
 
COMPOSITION. 55 
 
 These remarks had reference to the inherent beanty of lines 
 alone, apart from form, but in their spirit they are equally 
 applicable to objects of which such lines are the boundaries; and 
 the truth of this is exhibited in the added beauty of a finished, 
 well-proportioned column, as compared with that column when 
 an unformed log of wood. 
 
 The early Egyptian statues had only the head finished, rest- 
 ing upon a square block, or, if the entire figure was accom- 
 plished, it was as upright and unvaried in its attitude, with its 
 arms pinioned to the sides and its legs parallel in position, as 
 a soldier at his post ; Egyptian art hardly got beyond this, 
 and it was little better with early Greek sculpture. In pro- 
 cess of time, however, when Nature began to assert her claim to 
 freedom, and her arms were unpinioned and her legs unfettered, 
 and, to ease her position, this one a little advanced and that 
 one a little withdrawn, the head slightly averted and a little re- 
 clined, and the arms left to choose their place, the plastic and 
 hitherto formless marble assumed the shape and imitated the 
 actions of its creator man, and that so much more gTacefully 
 and naturally as now to be imitated by its creator in return. 
 What in the infancy of art was but an awkward lump of inert 
 matter is now in form a human being, and shows us, in contrast 
 with its early condition, how a change in the direction of a few 
 lines will impart to form a power to charm the eye through the 
 medium of the picturesque, though it may but imperfectly impress 
 the understanding and the heart ; and it exemplifies the differ- 
 ence between a form that is composed and one that is not, or, in 
 other words, the meaning in art of the temi " composition." 
 
 These remarks are made, it is true, in reference to a single 
 object, but they equally apply to every object in a picture, sep- 
 arate or combined, a single fig-iire or a group. 
 
 And now, perhaps, it may be asked, whence proceeds this 
 power to charm ] It is furnished by Shakespeare when, speak- 
 ing of Cleopatra's power over Antony, he says, — 
 
 *' Nor custom stale her infinite variety.^^ 
 
 It is the charming power, of variety which directs that, in a com- 
 
56 COMPOSITION. 
 
 position of any magnitude, there should be brought together 
 persons of different ages, sexes, conditions, and complexions, and, 
 if the actors are many, that they shall be separated into groups, 
 not so numerous as to confuse, nor so separated that the eye 
 in passing from one to the other cannot comprehend the whole 
 at once, nor so resembling each other in form and size as to ap- 
 pear the result of art rather than of nature and accident. 
 
 This variety, however, the chief element of beauty in compo- 
 sition, must be restricted, for, when carried to excess, it is as 
 pernicious as too great simplicity. As the one leads to intricacy, 
 and consequently perplexes and fatigues the eye ; so the other 
 leads to monotony and fails to excite it, which is equally bad. 
 There must be variety in every composition to constitute it a 
 picture and to excite attention, and there must be simplicity for 
 repose. Wliat the proportionate combination of variety and 
 simplicity in the attitudes, in the grouping, in the forms and 
 quantities of the lights and darks, and likewise in the tones and 
 kind of colors shall be, is a question that leads us next to a con- 
 sideration of the second part of composition, namely, that which 
 regards giving expression to the story by preserving a correspon- 
 dence between the materials employed and the sentiment of 
 the subject, — for every representation that has sentiment at- 
 tached to it requires a treatment peculiarly its own in every 
 constituent part of the art ; all must be an echo to the sense, 
 each requiring to be played as it were on a different ke}^, as the 
 subject of it is exciting or quiet, gay or grave, intellectual or 
 the opposite. For the simplest exemplification of these requi- 
 sites of correct composition, we have renewedly to refer to the 
 ancient Greek sculptures, in which a correspondence between 
 the disposition of the figure and the sentiment of the subject 
 will always be found, — the forms of virtue and of wisdom 
 being less varied than those of pleasure, Minerva's position 
 being perpendicular, and her drapery descending in long un- 
 mterrupted Imes, while a thousand amorous curves embrace the 
 hmbs of Flora and Venus, — the plain, the simple, the dignified, 
 and the intellectual being the sentiment of the one ; the light, 
 the gav, and the sensual the sentiment of the other. In paint- 
 
COMPOSITION. 57 
 
 ing, doubtless, this same idea was recognized and acted upon, 
 for it is both proper and natural, and no law of nature escaped 
 the observation of the ancient Greeks. 
 
 There are, we all know, established principles of expression in 
 the nature of man by which, unconscious of their influence, his 
 actions are controlled, both when alone and when in connection 
 with others, according to the circumstances which surround him 
 and engage his attention. 
 
 When men act under circumstances of a tranquil nature, or 
 as observant of a fact which does not excite to warm emotions, 
 but rather produces serious and solemn sensations, we behold 
 the sentiment appertaining to the scene display itself in the 
 parallelisms of their positions and the simj)le and slight motion 
 of their limbs ; but if the circumstances under which they act 
 are of a more animated character, and produce mirthful or joy- 
 ous sensations, we see the sentiment appertaining to the scene 
 display itself in the more varied position of their bodies, a 
 quicker motion of their limbs ; and if the sentiment which ani- 
 mates them be of a very exciting and passionate character, the 
 movements become more quick and the forms more angular- 
 ized, — the form and movements of the body thus seeming 
 to mould it to the form or nature of the inward emotion. 
 
 It was in obedience to this principle that Raphael acted, when 
 in his cartoon of " The Delivery of the Keys to St. Peter," he 
 employed, as did the sculptor of " Minerva," the influence of 
 simple forms to express and j)roduce solemnity, the sentiment of 
 the characters introduced, and the natural efi'ects of that scene ; 
 and the same too in the " Ananias," among the figiu'es distrib- 
 uting and receiving alms, whilst, in obedience to this rule, he 
 has resorted to the adverse system of angular forms and abrupt 
 contrasts to portray distress and convulsion in the dying man, 
 and astonishment and dismay in the figures that immediately 
 suiTound him. 
 
 This, it would seem, must have been the riding principle in the 
 painting of the Madonnas, with the exception of three very prom- 
 inent examples, — one by Rubens at Antwerp, another by Paul 
 Veronese at Venice, and a third by Sir Joshua Reynolds some- 
 
58 COMPOSITION. 
 
 where in England, — in which, by the employment of those varied 
 and flowing lines so becoming gay subjects, and so characteristic 
 of joyous and animating sensations, the artists have destroyed 
 the sentiment, the true basis of such paintings, and deprived 
 them of the solemnity becoming such a subject, and conse- 
 quently they do not raise in the spectator that feeling of spirit- 
 ual repose which naturally results from the simpler arrangement 
 of Rai3hael, Da Vinci, and Correggio. 
 
 In " The Transfiguration " Raphael is thought to have lost 
 sight of the principle in the great excitement and contrast among 
 the gToup of the disciples, although it adds gTandeur and sim- 
 plicity to the upper part ; and the same objection has been urged 
 against the violent contrasts of the Apostles' attitudes in " The 
 Last Supper," by Da Vinci, although they serve as a foil to the 
 dignified attitude of the Saviour and the graceful ]30sition of the 
 beloved John. 
 
 The same criticism has been applied to " The Evangelists " by 
 Domenichino, whose angular forms appear the more exceptionable 
 when compared with the simpler combinations of Michael Angelo, 
 upon which the mind undisturbedly rests until the sentiment 
 and impression intended is perfected; while in the contempla- 
 tion of the former it finds no repose, and consequently derives 
 no satisfactory and sympathetic emotion. 
 
 / The works of no artist oftener exhibit a correspondence be- 
 tween the composition and the sentiment of the subject than 
 those of Raphael, and this is nowhere more strikingly exempli- 
 fied than in the two lost cartoons, " The Resurrection " and 
 " The Ascension." The tapestries worked after them, however, 
 are still in existence, and are the property of the Romish govern- 
 ment, although they never appear among the engravings of what 
 are known as " The Cartoons." We have referred to them here 
 to introduce the powerful description of them by Fuseli, and 
 because, when set in opposition to each other, they illustrate our 
 subject, and show most distinctly the discriminating power of 
 
 ' Raphael in their contrasted composition ; that of " The Resur- 
 rection " deriving its interest and its power from its convulsive 
 
 , rapidity, and " The Ascension" /ro7?i its calmness of motion. 
 
COMPOSITION. 59. 
 
 '" In ' The Resurrection,' the Hero, like a ball of fire, shoots up 
 from the busting cerements and scatters astonishment and dis- 
 may. What apprehension dared not suspect, Avhat fancy could 
 not dream of, no eye had ever beheld, and no tongue ever 
 uttered, now blazes before us. The passions dart in rays resist- 
 less from the centre, — fear, terror, conviction, wrestle with dig- 
 nity and courage in the centurion, convulse brutality, overwhelm 
 violence, enervate resistance, absorb incredulity in the guard. 
 Tlie whole is tempestuous." 
 
 But " The Ascension," how different ! "No longer with the ra- 
 pidity of a conqueror, but with the calm serenity of triumphant 
 power, the Hero is borne up in splendor, and gradually vanishes 
 from those who, by repeated visions, had been taught to expect 
 whatever was amazing. Silent and composed, with eyes more 
 rapt in adoration than in wonder, they follow the glorious ema- 
 nation, till, addressed by the white-robed messengers of their 
 departed King, they relapse to the feelings of men." 
 
 We trust that we are not misunderstood in regard to this 
 part of our theme, — the maintaining a correspondence between 
 the composition and the sentiment of the subject. It is a 
 requirement the importance of which cannot be overrated. 
 There must be, as before stated, in every representation a cer- 
 tain variety to j)roduce the picturesque, and through that, in the 
 first place, to awaken attention. What shall be the degi^ee of 
 it beyond this is what we have been endeavoring to demon- 
 strate, and from the whole series of our observations results this 
 general rule, namely, that grave, quiet, and solemn scenes re- 
 quire less of the varied than those which are joyous, mirthful, 
 gay, or animated, and these last admit of fewer contrasts than 
 those which are passionate, violent, and exciting, — the senti- 
 ment always dictating and regulating the arrangements. Where 
 this is the governing principle of the composition it will always 
 have the desired and full effect. Where it is neglected, it may 
 at first sight please the eye by its picturesqueness, but it will 
 fail to satisfy the mind and adequately impress the heart. 
 
 A remarkable instance of the total abandonment of the prin- 
 ciple now under consideration is presented to us in that cele- 
 
60 COMPOSITION. 
 
 brated painting by Paul Veronese, called " The Marriage at 
 Cana," now the property of the French government. The com- 
 position is a very large one, and hovv^ truly it justifies its title 
 you will the better determine, when, to represent the humble 
 nuptials of Cana, you see what 1 — " at a table in an open court- 
 yard in Venice, about one hundred and sixty individuals of all 
 nations and of the highest rank in society, the grand seignior, 
 ■the Emperor of France, Venetian princes and princesses, dukes 
 and duchesses, lords and ladies, painters, poets, and musicians, 
 and at the remotest part of the table, hardly visible, Christ, 
 his mother, and a few of his disciples." It is true that by search- 
 ing you may find them out, but they are the last thing to be 
 discovered amid the grandeur of display and the ornamentations 
 of the feast. 
 
 Now the artist may name the painting what he pleases, and 
 the ignorant and simple beholder may believe it, but if there be 
 any truth in what was stated under the head of Invention, 
 namely, that the true test of a well-composed picture is its 
 making the same impression on the mind of the spectator that is 
 made by the written description on the mind of the reader, then 
 this otherwise amazing production is a prodigious failure, and its 
 name or title an insult to the common understanding ; and it 
 fails simply from the neglect of that principle of composition which 
 gives so much point and effect to the two paintings just described, 
 " The Resurrection " and " The Ascension." Had Raphael or Da 
 Vinci attempted a representation of this scene, they would have 
 addressed themselves to the heart and mind as well as to 
 the eye, and their medium of reaching them would have been the 
 miracle, and the expression of the emotions that would naturally 
 have been awakened by the first supernatural evidence the 
 Saviour had exhibited in support of the true nature of his mis- 
 sion. Christ would have been the most prominent personage in 
 the composition, and the miracle w^ould have been known in 
 some other way than by a servant's holding up the red skirt of 
 his garment to show that the w^ater he was pouring from one 
 vessel into another was of that color. 
 
 What Paul Veronese aimed at in this composition was SDlen- 
 
COMPOSITION. 61 
 
 dor of cftect, and to that end all propriety must be sacrificed. 
 Raphael, or Da Vinci, or any true artist, would have sought it in 
 another direction, would have derived it rather from the glory 
 that encircled the head of the Saviour, certainly not caught it, 
 as the Venetian did, from the gilded trappings on the dresses of 
 his nobles. 
 
ESSAY Y. 
 
 DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 
 
 DESIGN, or outline, is undoubtedly the foundation of the 
 art of painthig, for without contours it is impossible to 
 obtain the true images of things or actions, just proportions, 
 variety of form, energies, expression, animation, or sentiment. 
 
 Color, apart froln outline, is only an unmeaning glare. De- 
 sign, however, is perfectly intelligible by itself, and a simple 
 outline may convey ideas of size, form, distance, perspective, and 
 give the impression of rest or action, elegance or grandeur, 
 apathy or feeling. Indeed, so omnipotent is design, that, with 
 slight assistance from the imagination, unconsciously bestowed, 
 it can complete a picture. 
 
 Although design includes the drawing of the outlines of every 
 object in a picture, we shall consider it only in its relation to 
 the human figure, and under two distinct heads, one of which 
 we shall call correct and the other apjoropriate design, — meaning 
 by the first the drawing of the human figure with anatomical 
 exactness, and by the second, the drawing of the figure when- 
 ever it is introduced into a picture in its true 'physiognomic 
 character ; and to this last, or appropriate design^ Ave shall first 
 direct our attention. 
 
 Those who are acquainted with the practical part of the art 
 need not be told that when once a painter has conceived his sub- 
 ject, that is, formed in his mind an idea of a picture (which men- 
 tal efi^ort is called invention, the first of the component parts of 
 the art), he generally makes a sketch of it, either in pencil or in 
 colors, always small and imperfect. He then takes a canvas of 
 the size he intends to make his painting, and, having assigned 
 to each object its relative situation, attitude, etc. (called composi- 
 
DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 63 
 
 tiou, the second of the component parts of the art), he next, with 
 a pencil or crayon, draws the outhnc of each object from a model ; 
 if a human figure, he designs or draws it from life, or from a 
 figiire prepared for that purpose. When the picture is a long 
 time in being done, the draper}^ is transferred to what is called 
 a laj/-jignre (a figure constructed of wood and cloth, and capable 
 of being adjusted to any attitude), and from that it is completed. 
 
 This is the usual manner of most artists. If the subject in 
 hand be a portrait, the model is copied very closely, not how- 
 ever to the extent required of his painter by Cromwell, " with 
 all the warts, pimples, freckles, excrescences, and other inciden- 
 tal peculiarities," which make no part of the permanent char- 
 acteristic forai of the individual ; but such portions only are de- 
 lineated as constitute his permanent organization, and from which 
 he is known, not only when near, but likewise at a distance. 
 
 If the subject on which the artist is engaged is an historical^ 
 delineation, and the model be the real actor in the scene, as in 
 the painting of " The Death of Chatham," to the above extent 
 the painter is true to nature ; but if the model is not the real 
 actor, it ser^'es the artist only for the anatomy, the particular 
 light and shade, and a hint, perhaps, at the color and expression. 
 In no instance is the model for any of the figures in an historical 
 delineation (save where it is the real actor in the scene) to be 
 copied, although such was almost always the case with the Vene- 
 tian, Dutch, and Flemish masters, with whom an historical 2'>aint- 
 ing is generally a portrait of themselves. Whether the scene is 
 laid in Holland or Palestine ; whether they portray a mcny-mak- 
 ing. a beer-shop, a pathetic incident in the life of the Saviour, 
 or some other event from the Sacred Record, the actors, with 
 few exceptions, are their own countrymen, undisguised even 
 by appropriate costume. 
 
 Now, this is all wi-ong ; and as the practice likewise charac- 
 terizes modern art, and many exemplifications of it are found 
 everywhere, passing unnoticed, notwithstanding the enormous 
 incorrectness of the thing, we shall devote to an examination, 
 exposure, and condemnation of the practice more space than we 
 usually devote to a single topic. 
 
64 DESIGN^ OE DRAWING. 
 
 There is a painting by Teniers called " The Rich Man and 
 Lazarus," the materials of which are a somewhat richly clad 
 gentleman and his wife at dinner, attended by one white and one 
 black servant, and these, as is the case in almost all Flemish 
 pictures, are accompanied by a little Charles-the-First spaniel. 
 In the door-way is a miserable-looking old fellow, hooted and 
 pelted by some boys, whom an old woman, with an uj)lifted 
 broomstick, is endeavoring to drive away, while a hungiy- 
 looking dog is tenderly licking the sores, disgustingly displayed 
 (after the fashion of the naturalistic school) on the naked 
 limbs of the decrepit beggar. 
 
 Now this painting, like all by that master, was doubtless 
 charming to the eye for its truth to nature, but it is not true to 
 history ; for it is nothing more than just such a scene as might 
 be witnessed, we suppose, any day, in the country of the artist, — 
 for not only are all the actors, except the African, Dutch in form 
 and feature, but they are also clad in the costume of the country. 
 The room and furniture are of that character, and, not to miss 
 the locality, a landscape representing a scene in Holland is 
 hanging on the walls. This therefore, we conclude, is neither 
 a probable representation of an historic fact, nor does it illustrate 
 appropriate design. 
 
 In the National Gallery of England is a painting by Rem- 
 brandt, called " Christ Scourged," and it doubtless is enchant- 
 ing to the eye, for it is by the creator of that magic combination 
 of color with chiaro-oscuro which was never before, and surely 
 never since attained ; but the interest in it is almost annihilated 
 when we see represented as actors in the scene, not the ancient 
 reviling, disbelieving Jew, but the tender and converted Dutch- 
 man. Well, it is a downright libel upon his countrymen, and the 
 painter has redeemed himself a little only by making these same 
 Dutchmen the first humble worshippers at the manger in Betli- 
 lehem, but with as little a^ypropriateness of design, for these 
 Dutchmen were not the star-led shepherds of the Eastern plains. 
 
 This same locality, likewise, obtained with Rubens, who 
 generally took his figures from the people about him, as did most 
 of the Lombard and Venetian schools ; but the latter, says Fuseli, 
 
DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 05 
 
 were not so gross in this respect as Rubens, for they introduced 
 Venetian gentlemen into their pictures, but he the boors of his 
 own district, and called them patriarchs and prophets. 
 
 There are two well-know^l paintings of " The Finding of Moses " : 
 the one by Paul Veronese, who always introduced — and in a 
 very elegant way — his own countr^Tiien into his pictures ; and 
 the other by Poussin, a student of the antique, who ran into 
 the other extreme of over-idealizing. 
 
 In the first the different personages are all Italians, in the 
 second they are all Greeks. Xow, although those by Poussin are 
 well proportioned and anatomically perfect, and thus furnish an 
 example of correct design, j^et they are not appropriately drawn 
 any more than those by Veronese ; for if the latter has eiTed 
 by the introduction of commonplace Italian into his painting, 
 instead of the Egyptian, the former has equally erred by the 
 introduction of Grecian form and featm-e ; and however appro- 
 priate such figures might be in his classic and mythological 
 delineations, or in a dramatic display of passion and sentiment 
 (that like " The Burning of the Borgo," or any other repre- 
 sentation of a noctm-nal conflagTation, requires no locality), 
 they are out of place in an historic EgjqDtian one. 
 
 These pictures may truly represent the finding of a child in 
 some bulrushes, but not of the child Moses as recorded in the 
 Scriptures. 
 
 But this inappropriateness of design, this introduction of 
 portraiture w^here, under the circumstances of the case, the 
 figures should be in a degi*ee ideal, — as we shall presently 
 demonstrate, — is not confined to the old masters. 
 
 There was exhibited in England in 1829, and in this country 
 some years subsequent, a painting by Haydon, the English artist, 
 called " The Entering of Christ into Jei-usalcm," among the 
 fig^ires in which composition were Voltaire, Hume, and other 
 reported infidels, but introduced with little propriety in the 
 representation of an event that occurred nearly two thousand 
 years before they were born. 
 
 It may have been that Haydon intended it as an allegoric de- 
 lineation of the progi'ess of Christianity in spite of infidel opposi- 
 5 
 
66 DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 
 
 tion. If so, the conceit was not a bad one, althougn it marred 
 the unity of the design. The mistake was in calUng it " The 
 Entering of Christ into Jerusalem," and exhibiting it as such, — 
 although there were wonderful parts about it, as about all the 
 paintings already described, that make them worth seeing as 
 works of art. 
 
 There was another painting, of still greater celebrity, exhibited 
 in the United States still later, — " Eating the Forbidden 
 Fruit," by Dubeuf, — the Adam in which any one acquainted 
 with national physiognomy would at once pronounce a French- 
 man, and the Eve an Italian, even if he had not been told that she 
 was a good copy from a Yenus by Titian, whose female figures 
 Avere seldom anything more than the fair, rich, melting beauties 
 of his own luxurious city ; and yet that painting was vastly 
 admired for portraying, with gTcat probability of truth, the mis- 
 doings of our first parents, — with how much justice those can 
 tell who believe that the father of mankind was not a native of 
 France, nor the mother of om' race a Venetian flirt. 
 
 Even West, with all his correctness of draiving, was accustomed 
 to introduce among the personages in his Scriptural delinea- 
 tions his own daughters, and the old Jews he picked up in the 
 streets of London, unchanged in everything but costume, — the 
 least important, perhaps, of all adaptations. 
 
 Nor is it in painting alone that Ave find this offence against 
 propriety. The once celebrated group, by the Scotch sculptor 
 Tom, of " Tam O'Shanter," and that of " Uncle Toby and the 
 Widow Wadman," at the time of their first exhibition, founded 
 a part of their claim to the public attention on the declared facts 
 that almost every one of the figures in those compositions or 
 groups were portraits of individuals living at the time they were 
 executed either in New York City or the highlands of Scot- 
 land ; and how much the former resembled the personages of 
 Burns, or the bright-eyed lady of New York the widow with 
 " something in my eye. Uncle Toby," probably could be well 
 answered by the sculptors, if they knew anything about it. 
 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds says that John de Bologna, the cele- 
 brated sculptor, after he had finished the well-known group of 
 
DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 67 
 
 young men holding in their arms some young women, got his 
 friends together to know what name he should give it ; and in 
 a true democratic manner it was decided, by something of a 
 majority, to name it " The Rape of the Sabine Women " ; and 
 this is the celebrated group which now stands in front of a 
 palace in Florence, and is so much admired for its historical 
 truthfulness by those who do not know that they are all tran- 
 scripts of members of the artist's family, — a fact Avhich, when 
 known, is fatal to that supposition or belief. 
 
 There can be no doubt at all that the foregoing subjects of 
 our criticism may be very valuable as w^orks of art, as exhibi- 
 tions of passion and sentiment, as dramatic representations of 
 feelings and emotions that are universal, and may be as well 
 imaged forth in the personages of one age as another ; that 
 which is especially objected to is their deficiency as representa- 
 tions of " historical facts," their pretending to portray something 
 which the}^ do not delineate. 
 
 Now an artist is to be in some degree judged by his declared 
 intentions ; and, thus judged, the foregoing productions do not 
 meet one of the least considered, but yet one of the most im- 
 portant, demands of art. 
 
 We might have multiplied illustrations to the same effect to 
 an indefinite extent ; for it is undeniable that very many of 
 the productions both of the pencil and the chisel are, historically 
 considered, downright impositions, — in one important aspect of 
 the matter, falsehoods; and if the several personages in such 
 compositions could speak, they would confirm the statement. 
 " I am not a Jew, but a Dutchman," would be the declaration 
 of one ; " not an Asiatic, but a Frenchman," the response of 
 another ; " not an Egyptian, but a Greek," the reply of a third ; 
 " not Cleopatra, but Miss West " ; " not Desdemona, but Miss 
 Roe " ; not Portia, but Miss Doe " ; " not Othello, but Jim 
 Crow " ; " not Shylock, but an old London clothesman," and so 
 on. These, and a thousand similar ones, would be the responses 
 of the much misrepresented canvas. But such compositions are 
 to be treated like pirates who sail under false colors, — sub- 
 jected to the right of search, and condemned without mercy. 
 
68 DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 
 
 In condemning the guilty, however, let us not do mjustice to 
 the innocent, for if there be numberless instances of inappropri- 
 ateness of design, there are also many that are not open to this 
 objection. The truth is sometimes t®ld in historical delinea- 
 tions, even where the actors in the scene do not serve for the 
 model ; and its full meaning and power was shown by Mr. Allston 
 one day, when, being asked if the w^ell-known Jews' heads painted 
 by him and belonging to the Boston Athenseum were copied 
 from life to be introduced into his much misunderstood and still 
 unfinished painting of " Belshazzar's Feast," " no," was his 
 reply, — " no. Those are portraits of Polish Jews, and not 
 the Jews of the Babylonish period. They must first be ideal- 
 ized, made more to resemble the Hebrew^s of Asiatic origin." The 
 picture of them, slight as the required variation may have been, 
 existed in his own mind, but it had been drawn there after 
 a minute examination of their physiognomic character. The 
 original heads were regarded as starting-points, as models to 
 be submitted to the required modifications. 
 
 The original of the Madonna called '' La Jardiniere," by 
 Eaphael, was a gardening girl near Rome, and several of his 
 his Madonnas were painted from his favorite Fornarina ; but 
 they were not transcripts, copies, the model in its exact shape 
 transferred to the canvas, as was the custom with the Dutch 
 and Venetians, but imitations of the model, or, in other words, 
 its idealism. 
 
 Had Raphael, however, simply copied the Fornarina or the 
 gardening girl, and called her the mother of Christ, we, not 
 knowing the circumstance, might have admired the painting 
 as a probable representation of the Virgin Mother, yet the 
 imposition would have been no less real. 
 
 But it may be said, that, whether it be an exact copy or por- 
 trait of the model or in some measure the product of the paint- 
 er's imagination, in either case it may not at all resemble the 
 mother of Christ ; for how, it may be asked, could Raphael or 
 any other artist form a right conception of her personal appear- 
 ance 1 
 
 The answer is not difficult, and in its spirit applies to all 
 
DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 69 
 
 historical delineations the actors in which cannot be procured 
 for the model. The painter's object was to portray a lyrohahle 
 resemblance of the Virgin Mother, — as of Da Vinci, in "The 
 Last Supper," a probable delineation of the sacramental feast. 
 It became Kapliael, therefore, to present us with a figure whos3 
 form and fiice should exhibit at least a Jewish, not an Italian or 
 a Greek mother, and whose expression should indicate not onl}'- 
 the maternal graces and affections common to the race, but also 
 sentiments peculiarly becoming to the mother of Christ. 
 
 How far he has been successful in accomplishing all this is 
 another question ; at any rate, we should expect to find these 
 qualifications or believe that they were exhibited in an ideal, 
 rather than in a living person, and that an Italian ; a supposi- 
 tion is certainly entitled to more confidence than an acknowl- 
 edged falsehood. 
 
 The head of the mother in the " Madonna della Seggiola " (the 
 Madonna of the Chair), is not Jewish in its physiognomy, and is, 
 as far as that goes, the most objectionable of any of Raphael's 
 paintings of her. It very much resembles that of the Venus de 
 Medici. .•>. It certainly is Greek in its structure. 
 
 There can be no doubt that an exact representation of Joseph 
 and his family would be the most truly historic delineation, 
 and so also an exact transcript of '' The Last Supper " or any 
 other recorded subject ; and, of the many productions pretend- 
 ing to portray historical events, those must be the most correct 
 and interesting that approach nearest the realitj'. It would 
 seem to demand no argument to support this position. It is 
 requiring no more of the painter of history than of the writer 
 of it, which surely is not unreasonable. 
 
 But perhaps it will be said that the mass of historical paint- 
 ings are intended only to present the sentiment of the scene, 
 and not to be an actual transcript of all the circumstances that 
 combine to make the real fact ; the object being simply to ade- 
 quately impress the imagination, as in any representation of 
 the crucifixion, or the nativity, or the Madonna, and that so 
 far they are sufficient and historically true. 
 
 Well, granting for the moment that this is the only aim of 
 
70 DESIGN, OR DEAWING. 
 
 the painter, would not the sentiment be better exhibited and 
 the imagination more adequately impressed by a transcript of 
 the reality^ or a probable delineation of it, than where the repre- 
 sentation carries internal evidence of something being substi- 
 tuted entirely different *? Certainly. Therefore, acknowledged 
 portraiture, except of the original actors, is out of place, and not 
 admissible in the endeavor to portray only the sentiment of an 
 historic subject, because it is fatal to the imagination, — that is, 
 it destroys the air of probability, and consequently the impres- 
 sion intended to be made upon the imagination. 
 
 It is with historical delineations, the actors in which have not 
 been the painter's models, as with the drama. So long as the 
 actor identifies himself with the character he personates, — that 
 is, so long as we are possessed with the idea that it is Lear, or 
 Hamlet, or Desdemona, or Ophelia that is before us, and not 
 Garrick, or Cook, or Siddons, or Kemble, or Booth, — so long do 
 we feel the full force of the sentiments they utter ; but just so 
 far as the actors themselves are visible, just so much less forci- 
 ble is the impression made upon the imagination ; and it is the 
 power thus to impress an audience that constitutes geilius, and 
 has made the renown and glory of the great personators of the 
 drama. 
 
 There is a greater difficulty in painting than in the drama in 
 producing a full impression, — that the former is deprived of the 
 medium of language, the appeal being made to the mind only 
 through the eye. In dramatic exhibitions there is another me- 
 dium, the ear. 
 
 We have been thus particular on this part of our subject be- 
 cause of its importance to a clear comprehension of the intent 
 and power of the art, and to guard the uninitiated from impo- 
 sition, quackery, and pretence. The rule to be deduced from 
 the whole is this : if the painting claim to be a pure historic 
 delineation, and the actors in the scene be of a particular na- 
 tion or cast, or be characterized by particular physiognomy, 
 figure, color, or any other permanent peculiarity, whether it is 
 the reality or only the sentiment of the scene that is to be de- 
 lineated, they must be so represented and with all the circum- 
 
DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 71 
 
 stances that unequivocally distinguish that event from every 
 other ; only when these requisites are complied with can it 
 be called an historical picture and the drawing appropriate. 
 
 If it be a dramatic exhibition of passion, feeling, character, 
 that is universal and requires no local delineation, as " The 
 Burning of the Borgo," call it a dramatic painting ; if an ideal 
 abstraction of mind, as the epic series of Michael Angelo, so let 
 it be designated, and thus call things by their right names. 
 Do not let us paint a portrait of Shakespeare and name it Sopho- 
 cles or Euripides, or a Dutch family and call it the rich man 
 and Lazarus, or a feast in Venice and call it the humble 
 nuptials at Cana. If we cannot procm-e the original materials 
 for the models of the different objects in our compositions, let 
 us approach as near as possible to the reality by imagining 
 them, and not substitute something that we know to be entirely 
 different, and thus be giiilty of a fraud and*a falsehood. 
 
 A few words now of connect design, by which, as stated in the 
 commencement of this essay, is meant " the drawing of the 
 human figure with anatomical exactness," and in the adaptation 
 of it to express appropriate action and gesture. 
 
 The drawing of the human figure with anatomical exactness 
 and just proportions, and the adaptation of it to express ap- 
 propriate actions and gestures, has been well called one of the 
 gi-eatest difficulties of the art, and imperfect design one of the 
 greatest defects of modern draughtsmen ; nor is there any promise 
 of an abatement of the defect, as artists of the present day are 
 not willing to encounter the labor of years that alone enabled 
 such men as ^Michael Angelo, Raphael, and others to accom- 
 plish with facility that which but few can now do at all. Too 
 many, it is supposed, are willing to perform that by the camera 
 w^hich the best of the old masters could do as well or better 
 by the hand. When that instrument is the servant of the art, 
 it may be made to render valuable assistance ; but if it is to 
 be a substitute for brains and energy, the effect eventually must 
 be to degrade the professor and destroy the art. 
 
 There was but small advance made in this branch of study 
 until near the commencement of the fourteenth centurv, when 
 
72 DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 
 
 the true style of drawing, attached to essential form, propor- 
 tionate characteristic discrimination, and expressive propriety, 
 was begun by Masaccio and his contemporaries, and finally com- 
 pleted by Da Vinci, Michael Angelo, and Raphael. The Ca- 
 racci and others simply continued it. 
 
 Although Michael Angelo did not always adapt the character 
 to the subject, yet, for the characters he has chosen, his figures 
 as to the drawing are generally allowed to be executed with 
 more spirit, truth, and science than anything that has appeared 
 since the resurrection of art. The outlines of the muscles in 
 many of his figures are by some thought to be unnaturally 
 exaggerated. But it should be remembered that he did not in- 
 tend, nor did the epic character of his subject require him, in 
 his delineations, to be limited by the boundaries of ordinary 
 existences. His figures are very much expanded, it is true, yet 
 they are not huge like the elephant, but grand and majestic 
 like the lion and the tiger. 
 
 Da Vinci's style of drawing is not so great as that of Michael 
 Angelo ; yet it exhibits great truth, energy, and expression. It 
 is, however, much exaggerated at times, as in " The Last Supper," 
 some of the figures approaching, but never reaching, caricature. 
 
 Although Raphael was not always great, like Michael Angelo, 
 yet he was frequently so, and always excellent. In design, 
 his characteristic quality was the expressive. The figure of 
 the female carrying water in the "Incendio del Borgo" has 
 been considered wonderful for the expressive energy of the action, 
 and his best-drawn naked figure the young man hanging from 
 the wall in the same fresco, and the Prudence — in the Juris- 
 prudence — the most beautiful and correctly drawn of his female 
 figures. For divine expression, that which looks beyond the 
 present to the future, nothing has ever surpassed that which 
 characterizes the Angel Raphael, an engraving of which makes 
 one of the illustrations of this volume. 
 
 Correggio's design has not been much criticised ; there is 
 certainly great purity and beauty in most of his female charac- 
 ters, and in those and every other form a style peculiarly his 
 own, and always refined and attractive. 
 
DESIGN, OR DRAWING. 73 
 
 Titian has the reputation of not being a good draughtsman, — 
 at least, that was the reported opinion of Michael Angelo, and 
 he may have thought so, comparing him with his own grand 
 style in the Sistine Chapel. Perfection in this branch of the art, 
 correct design, is oftener found in sculpture than in painting. 
 It is to painting that we are to look for the most expressive 
 representations, but to sculpture — the ancient Greek — for the 
 most coiTect and beautiful delineation, of the human form. 
 
 They are the classics in art, as the Greek and Latin writers 
 are in letters ; and as a pure and correct taste in writing is 
 best acquired by the study of the one, so a knowledge of cor- 
 rect design most certainly results from the study of the other. 
 They are, therefore, in all academies of design, made the basis 
 of artistic education. 
 
 The ancient sculptures are better, on many accounts, than 
 ordinary living models, for we there behold nature unadul- 
 terated by human institutions and undisguised by fashion. 
 
 It is to the influence of these marbles, together with an in- 
 tense study of practical anatomy, that we are to trace the supe- 
 riority of ]\Iiehael Angelo's and Raphael's designs. The Greeks 
 in this were their masters. 
 
 But although the ancient marbles, like the ancient writers, 
 are to be studied for sti/le, they are not, any more than the latter, 
 to be copied, as they w^ere by Poussin, in " The Finding of 
 Moses," and by the once celebrated David (the head of the French 
 school under the Empire) and his followers in almost all of their 
 productions, — there being, however, this vast diff'erence to be 
 noted between Poussin's adoptions and theirs, namely, that 
 Poussin has given to his Grecian forms the expressions and 
 attitudes of nature. David and his followers have ingrafted 
 on them French peculiarities and grimaces. 
 
 As previously stated, the old Venetian, Dutch, and Flemish 
 masters totally neglected to avail themselves of the study of 
 the ancient sculptures to correct imperfect nature, but copied 
 the men and women of their country as they found them ; and 
 they, like Poussin, differed from the later French artists, in that 
 they gave to their figures natural expressions and attitudes. 
 
74 DESIGN, OR DEAWING. 
 
 Now neither the Venetians, the Dutch, the Flemings, Poussin, 
 nor David and his followers were right. Poussin was in all 
 save his mythological delineations too ideal, the others not 
 enough so; the true course lay between the ideality of the 
 one and the actuality of the other, and it was understood by 
 Raphael, when he invested "The Gardening Girl" and "The 
 Fornarina" with so much divine beauty, and also by Allston, 
 when he embodied that most charming of all his delineations, 
 "The Beatrice" of Dante, and gave a visible form to his sub- 
 lime conception of " The Prophet Jeremiah." 
 
Titian's model for light and shade. 
 
ESSAY VI. 
 
 CHIARO-OSCURO. 
 
 CHIARO-OSCURO is the technic term employed to desig- 
 nate the mysterious effects of Hght and dark in a picture. 
 In the order of enumeration it is the fourth of the constitu- 
 ent parts of the art, and the second of its mechanical processes. 
 
 If design, or drawing, is the giver of form, chiaro-oscuro is 
 the creator of space and hody. By it entire figures are de- 
 tached from the background, and made to recede and advance 
 according to their several situations and distances ; nor only so, 
 but by a certain required arrangement and proportioning of the 
 lights and darks, the artist in this, as in composition and color, 
 is enabled to give the most pleasing effect to the eye, assist 
 the sentiment, and impress the imagination. 
 
 These are some of the offices of light and dark, or chiaro- 
 oscuro, which we shall presently explain and illustrate ; but as a 
 fitting introduction and key to the philosophy of chiaro-oscuro 
 it becomes necessary to say a few words of the varied influences 
 of light and darkness in the natural world. 
 
 In general terms, it is characteristic of light to exhilarate and 
 of darkness to depress. 
 
 There is a pensiveness comes over most of us w^ith the shades 
 of evening, that deepens into melancholy 
 
 " When Night, like to a widow in her weeds, 
 Among the ghmmering tapers silent sits " ; 
 
 but a buoyancy of spirits, a fulness of the heart, comes with 
 the light of the morning. In the one case it is analogous to 
 that feeling of desolation and despair we all experience 
 
 " When the sear and yellow leaf 
 Comes down in autumn"; 
 
76 CHIAEO-OSCURO. 
 
 in the other, to that emotion of hope and renewed Ufe that 
 brightens the face of universal nature 
 
 " When Spring, in all her maiden pride, 
 Comes forth to be the Summer's bride." 
 
 Nor is it without reason that we are thus affected by these 
 natural phenomena ; for while all that is gladsome and joyous in 
 nature is intimately associated with light, all that is grave, im- 
 pressive, awful, mysterious, dreadful, and sublime is as inti- 
 \mately associated with darkness. Young in his Night Thoughts 
 impressively calls it " the felt presence of the Deity." 
 
 Of the capability of shadow to impart a greater degree of hor- 
 s ror to any subject of terror the poet has ever been conscious, as 
 when *' the sweet singer of Israel " with inexpressible sublimity 
 speaks of his final departure as a journey " through the valley of 
 the shadow of death," and again when, in portraying the awful 
 majesty of Jehovah, he is represented as shrouded in clouds 
 and darkness, as having his way in the whirlwind, and dwell- 
 ing in thick darkness. 
 
 It would be easy to multiply illustrations to the same effect 
 from both sacred and profane writings, for nowhere so often as 
 in " the dark valley " has poetry gathered its beautiful, though 
 sometimes deadly flowers ; and we might say as much of the in- 
 fluences of light, but as they are of a character directly opposite 
 to that of darkness, they in a great measure explain themselves. 
 
 It is true that the foregoing observations have an especial 
 reference to the exhibitions of light and darkness with their 
 attendant influences in the natural world, yet they are equally 
 applicable to and perfectly explain all the varied effects and mys- 
 terious influences of light and shadow in pictorial representa- 
 tions ; for it is but a picture that the mind contemplates in 
 both instances, and in both equally made out by lights and 
 shades and colors, — in the one case reflected directly from the 
 natural object on the retina of the beholder ; in the other, first 
 on the retina of the artist, thence transferred to the canvas, and 
 again in the last remove reflected on the retina of the specta- 
 tor, the artist's eye and the canvas simply acting the part of 
 a mirror. 
 
CIIIARO-OSCURO. 77 
 
 ^^^lenco the mind gets to be impressed with the ideas of 
 form, nearness, distance, and space in the natural world is 
 another question. By many they are supposed to be intui- 
 tive. It is not so, however ; they are the conclusions of experi- 
 ence. To a child, as to a man who was born blind and has 
 recovered his sight, everything at first appears to be very near, 
 and, like a picture painted on a w4ndow-pane, equally distant. 
 As he grows older, however, he finds that some objects and 
 parts of objects are in reality behind or beyond others. This 
 he discovers himself, either by actual observation or measure- 
 ment of some kind or by the observation and report of 
 others. He further observes that near objects have differ- 
 ent appearances from those that by experience he has found 
 to be remote ; that the first have strong outlines, much de- 
 tail, and decided shades and colors ; that these diminish in 
 strength, as the objects themselves in apparent size, in propor- 
 tion as they recede or are distant from the eye, always conver- 
 ging to the point of sight. Having observed all these local 
 phenomena, they soon get to be considered as so many marks 
 or types set upon objects, and, being remembered, are referred to 
 on future occasions ; so that when he sees other objects present- 
 ing similar phenomena, he considers them to be occupying simi- 
 lar places, and to be equally near or distant, and consequently 
 to exist in space. This is the manner in which we get to be im- 
 pressed with the ideas of nearness, distance, and space in the 
 natural world. In view, therefore, of what has been said in re- 
 gard to all objects, whether in nature or art, being presented to 
 the mind through the medium of lights and shadows, or light 
 and dark colors, as they are painted on the retina, it follows tliat, 
 to have the like impressions of nearness, distance, and space re- 
 sult from the pictorial representation, the artist has only to imi- 
 tate the appearances, marks, or types of the several objects in 
 nature. 
 
 "We have been thus particular upon this part of our subject 
 because of the wonder and surprise on the part of many persons 
 that painting should affect us as do objects and phenomena in 
 nature. The view thus taken is an important one, however 
 
78 CHIARO-OSCURO. 
 
 trite it may appear, because it shows that the same laws regu- 
 late both. 
 
 Our process thus far has reference, chiefly, if not entirely, 
 to the xjarticv.lar light and dark or shade upon a picture, by 
 which we have obtained truth of representation. A few words 
 now of the general light and shadow which spread in masses 
 over many combined objects in a composition, as in sun- 
 light or candle-light, where large single forms or groups of ob- 
 jects intervene to shut out the light and cast shadow on other 
 objects. Few persons are aware how much the beauty and 
 effect of a painting or an engraving depend on the general light 
 and dark. We say the general light and dark in contradistinc- 
 tion to the 2:>articulaT light and shadow by which the several ob- 
 jects are rounded to the eye and relieved from the canvas, as 
 may be seen illustrated by the drawing of a " Bunch of Grapes " 
 made in a cloudy day, compared with a drawing of the same, on 
 the same page, made when the sunlight fell brightly on one side 
 of it, leaving the other parts in deep shadow. 
 / In each case each particular grape is rounded to the sight by 
 its own particular light and shadow. But a general light and 
 shade, the one on one portion of the grapes and the other on 
 another portion, divide the entire surface of the bunch into two 
 great masses of light and dark, and this massing gives what in 
 technic language is called breadth, — one of the highest qualities 
 of the art, and a principal element of the incturesqiie. 
 
 There is a painting by Rembrandt in the National Gallery, 
 in England, an engraving from which forms an illustration of 
 this volume, " The Woman accused in the Synagogue," which 
 surprisingly illustrates the value of this principle in giving effect 
 and breadth; this is more apparent when compared w^ith the 
 arrangement of the lights and darks in some of " The Cartoons," 
 and particularly those of "Paul preaching" and "The School 
 of Athens," in which there is a want of expansiveness or 
 breadth, resulting from the absence of a general light and 
 shadow. 
 
 Breadth of general light and shadow in a picture is of so great 
 value that it not only unites and displaj^s the beauties of design, 
 
CHIARO-OSCURO. 79 
 
 composition, and colo7' to the greatest advantage, but can disguise 
 their defects and render pleasing works deficient in almost every 
 other good quality of art. 
 
 What was it that once gave such charm to Martin's designs 
 of *' Belshazzar's Feast," " The Departure of the Israelites from 
 Egypt," " The Opening of the Sixth Seal," " Pandemonium," 
 and " Satan addressing his Legions " 1 There was no correct- 
 ness in the drawing, no truth in the perspective, no beauty 
 in the coloring of the paintings or drawings ft'om which these 
 impressive engravings w^ere taken, — in short, little excellence, 
 save a tasteful and feeling arrangement of the chiaro-oscuro, 
 and especially of the general light and shadow. In the " Pan- 
 demonium " the archangel is scarcely visible amid the mys- 
 terious darkness and endless colonnades of his infernal palace. 
 Engravings from these and other designs by Martin, and also 
 by Danby, an imitator of him, at the time of their appearance, 
 some tw^enty years since, were, notwithstanding their many 
 deficiencies in almost every other respect, among the most 
 popular works that ever appeared in that department of art. 
 
 But for a beautiful effect arising from a judicious arrange- 
 ment of the general lights and darks, how" many of the de- 
 servedly esteemed productions of the Dutch and Flemish schools 
 would be thrown aside as intolerably disgusting ! It matters 
 not what the subject be ; if the general light and shadow is 
 tastefully arranged, it becomes an agreeable object of contempla- 
 tion, and produces that impression which entitles it to the name 
 of a picture. Nay, more ; in order to produce the picturesque^ 
 it is not necessary that there should be any subject, mere 
 blotches of light and dark accidentally thrown together being 
 found to produce ideas affecting to the mind, imagination sup- 
 plying the forms. So charming and powerful is this quality of 
 breadth in chiaro-oscuro. 
 
 But although black and wdiite alone are thus effective, chiaro- 
 oscuro is more beautiful still when united with and assisted by 
 light and dark colors. 
 
 Pictures possessing breadth of the general light and darh or 
 shade are not only very effective, but they likewise give great re- 
 
80 CHIAEO-OSCURO. 
 
 pose to the eye ; whereas, where the hghts and darks are in small 
 portions and much divided, the eye is disturbed and the mind 
 rendered uneasy, especially if one is anxious to understand every 
 object in a composition, as it is painful to the ear if w^e are anx- 
 ious to hear what is said in company when many are talking at 
 the same time. Hence the reason wdiy Gothic architecture, when 
 closely viewed, is less pleasing than Grecian, and why such build- 
 ings as Westminster Abbey always appear more beautiful when 
 the spectator is far enough removed from them to bring the de- 
 tail into masses, so as to give what is termed the general effect. 
 Hence, too, the reason why portraits make a more pleasing 
 picture when but few objects are introduced into the composi- 
 tion than when the person is covered with frills and ruffles, and 
 the background stuffed like a " curiosity shop." Such an ar- 
 rangement cuts up the lights and darks and destroys the 
 breadth. 
 /■ We know it may be asked if it is not enough that the artist 
 ''' copy the light and shade under which objects are viewed at the 
 moment of imitation ; and we answer no, unless Nature presents 
 herself under favorable circumstances, which is not always the 
 case, and when she does not, the artist must correct her defi- 
 ciencies, — for in this, as in every other part of the art, there 
 may be selection, as may be seen illustrated in the two draw- 
 ings of the "Bunch of Grapes." There may be such a light as 
 would give to them either of these appearances ; but if an artist 
 was at liberty to select, there can be no doubt at all to which 
 aiTangement he would give the preference, — to that, certainly, 
 with the general light and shadow. 
 
 There were doubtless many other ways of managing the light 
 and shadow on Rembrandt's painting of " The Woman Accused," 
 but none, we apprehend, more pleasing to the eye, and so pro- 
 ductive of breadth and that repose befitting so grave a sub- 
 ject. 
 
 Again, it may be asked if it is not enough that the lights 
 and darks in a painting are true ; our answer is in the nega- 
 tive, and its correctness is exemplified in "The School of 
 Athens," one of Raphael's frescos in the Vatican, which paint- 
 
'W^ma^^a^^yyJ^^fy J^-^ ^^ '-^^^ 
 
 ■'Z^l^cJcV^''- 
 
Of TBB^- 
 
CHIARO-OSCURO. 8 1 
 
 ing, from his neglecting to unite the assemblage of figures by a 
 commanding mass and allowing exj^ression to preponderate at 
 the expense of everything else, has in it little that is attrac- 
 tive to a mind unqualified to penetrate the design. To see the 
 value of a selected and composed light and shade over a natural 
 light and shade, one has only to compare an imjiression taken 
 by a camera with a painting of the same subject with a selected 
 or imagined light and shade. 
 
 Although this massing of the lights and darks in a picture is so 
 very desirable, it is not always easy to obtain it. Hence we some- 
 times find artists resorting to curious means to accomplish and 
 justify it, as did Titian in his celebrated painting " The En- 
 tombment," in w^hich the light falls on a man in the front j^art 
 of the composition, although the sun is setting in the rear ; 
 the painter supposing it reflected from a cloud in advance of 
 the field of the picture. 
 
 Others have imagined a dark cloud or some other object 
 outside of the picture, and thus excused the introduction of a 
 shadow. 
 
 Of course this massing process does not destroy the individual 
 lights and darks or shadows of objects, as may again be illus- 
 trated by the " Bunch of Grapes," where each individual grape 
 has its own light and shade and reflection by wdiich it is made 
 out and rounded to the eye, although the general light and 
 shadow make of them but two large masses. 
 
 If any one has sufficient imagination to suppose these grapes 
 to be so many persons or other objects in a composition, he will 
 at once comprehend the value that Titian attached to it as a 
 guide for the arrangement and massing of the lights and darks 
 of a more extended picture. 
 
 As this massing to obtain breadth is not destructive of the 
 particular lights and shadows of objects, neither does it pre- 
 clude contrasts and ahrupt transitions of light and dark ; for these 
 are required, like a strong note in music, to strike attention and 
 direct it to some particular point, — as again illustrated in the 
 design of " The Woman Accused," her accuser being clothed in 
 deep black, though standing in a mass of light ; and this ar- 
 
82 CHIARO-OSCURO. 
 
 rangement not only serves to separate her from the rest of the 
 group, but likewise to give effect to the white of the other prin- 
 cipal figures, Christ and the supposed adulteress. The operation 
 of these contrasts is also to produce solidity and relief, and con- 
 sequently to prevent insipidity and flatness. 
 
 Although in this picture the strongest light falls on Christ and 
 the accused woman, the principal figures of the composition, yet 
 it is not alw^ays necessary, any more than that the principal 
 figure should be in the centre of the composition ; all that is re- 
 quired is, that attention should be drawn towards the principal 
 figure in some plausible manner. It is sometimes better to 
 have the principal light on one side, — as in a painting by Cor- 
 reggio called " Christ's Agony in the Garden," — for it affords 
 greater space for breadth of shadow. 
 
 If the frame of the picture be considered as a window, or the 
 limits of any other aperture, it is improper to sacrifice all the 
 extremities to concentrated light on the middle ground, except 
 in particular instances (as the "Del Notte," or "Nativity," by 
 Correggio) ; for thereby the picture becomes less than the canvas, 
 and prevents the imagination from exercising its ingenuity upon 
 something out of it. 
 
 Whatever has a definite limit is reduced to reality, and 
 all reality is fatal to the imagination. " The hand that warned 
 Belshazzar derived its horrifying influence from the want of a 
 body." 
 
 Although in the drawing of the "Bunch of Grapes" there 
 are but tivo great masses of light and dark, from this the con- 
 clusion is not to be drawn that such must be the usual unvaried 
 arrangement, for there may be several masses. Reynolds thinks 
 that there should be three of light, in which case they must be 
 treated as parts of a whole, by making one the chief, and the 
 others subordinate, — satellites, as it were, of the former ; they 
 should also be of different shapes, as different in power, for the rea- 
 sons assigned when treating the subject of composition, namely, 
 that equal qijantities and equal shapes produce hesitation and 
 perplexity in the spectator. 
 
 Our remarks thus far have had relation chiefly to the em- 
 
CHIARO-OSCURO. 83 
 
 ploymeiit of cliiaro-oscuro to render the surface of the picture 
 agreeable, by dividing it into masses of light and dark, whether 
 produced by light and shadow, by light and dark colors, or by 
 the two united. But the mind has claims as well as the eye, 
 and this leads us next to consider the second part of our subject, 
 namely, the employment of chiaro-oscuro to assist sentiment and 
 give expression^ — for this, like composition and cohjr, sliould be 
 an echo to the sense. 
 
 There is no very great difficulty in rendering the surface of 
 the canvas merely agreeable to the eye, and much easier to imi- 
 tate the common effects of objects around us, — that is, to give 
 them the appearance of nearness, distance, and relief, — beca\ise 
 this portion of chiaro-oscuro is regulated by rules. But that 
 ideal or poetic management of it which, by tone^ by arrancje- 
 ment, and by regulated quantities, produces sensations within us 
 like those attendant on actual circumstances, of a nature grave 
 or gay, dreadful or mysterious, a^vful or sublime, is attended 
 with many difficulties, inasmuch as it admits of no very specific 
 regulations ; for every subject that conve3's any particular senti-^ 
 ment requires a distinct, individual, and particular treatment, — 
 no two admitting of a similar arrangement in the lights and 
 shadows any more than in the composition of their forms or 
 figures, or in the choice, disposition, and tone of colors. 
 
 No rule of art is so little known to, or, if known, is so little 
 observed by painters, as that w^hich requires that the lights and 
 darks of a painting should be so arranged as to assist sentiment 
 and be an echo to the sense ; its observance always gives point. 
 I know of no paintings in which this can be seen better illus- 
 trated than in the " Del Notte," by Correggio, " The Appearance 
 to the Shepherds," and the '' Ecce Homo," by Rembrandt. 
 
 In the " Del Notte " — or " The Nativity," as it is more gener- 
 ally called — the entire light of the picture is the supernatural 
 illumination of the infant Saviour, from ivhoni the light emanates 
 as from a glow-worm, strikes upw' ards upon the beautiful fiice of 
 the Virgin Mother, the more rugged features of Joseph, the 
 surrounding shepherds, and the overhanging group of angels, 
 and finally dies aw^ay, and is buried in the depths of the sur- 
 
84 CHIARO-OSCURO. 
 
 rounding shadows, — "an arrangement," says Opie, "that may 
 challenge anything in the whole circle of art, both for the splen- 
 dor of its effects and for its happy j^oetic appropriation to the 
 person of One born to dispel the clouds of ignorance and diffuse 
 the light of truth over a world lying in darkness." 
 
 In " The Appearance to the Shepherds " a mass of shadow 
 runs through the canvas from right to left, and thus gives the 
 necessary breadth ; above this is the principal mass of light, 
 radiating from a centre, with a multitude of cherubs sporting 
 in its beams. Out of this light an angel addresses the shep- 
 herds across a gulf of shadow, which shadow has a poetic allu- 
 sion to the moral darkness which at the time of Christ's ap- 
 pearance hung over the world. The second light is in the 
 lower part of the picture, not quietly brilliant, as is the upper 
 light, but irregularly dispersed, thus conveying the appearance 
 of terror and confusion among the flocks, which are represented 
 as flying in all directions. 
 
 In the " Ecce Homo " the Saviour is the centre of a gTOup, 
 in a quiet, broad mass of light. Pilate with the multitude 
 stands also in a broad light ; but it is intermingled, as in " The 
 Appearance to the Shepherds," with strong darks, thereby pro- 
 ducing the appearance of much brilliancy and much agitation. 
 This is the composition of the lights and darks in the painting, 
 and nothing could be more admirable, — for thereby the quiet 
 character of Christ is preserved, and his superiority maintained 
 by his forming the bright centre of one group ; while Pilate, 
 forming the apex of the other group (which gi'oup, be it remem- 
 bered, is in a mass of broken light), rises like a p^a-amid from 
 the tumultuous weaves below. 
 
 From these few examples it will be seen, that, although 
 masses of light and dark are always desirable in a picture, to 
 give breadth and effect, yet, with regard to the proportion 
 and shape of the masses, no rule can be given, other than that 
 resulting from the nature of the subject. Bearing in mind, 
 however, the position with which we commenced this essay, 
 namely, that it is characteristic of light to exhilarate and of 
 darkness to depress, to render i)ensive, sober, thoughtful ; that 
 
CHIARO-OSCURO. 85 
 
 cheefulness and animation arc produced by a preponderance of 
 the first, and seriousness by a preponderance of the last, and, 
 fiu'thermore, that light and dark soothe by breadth and gentle 
 gradation, strike by contrast, and rouse by abrupt transition, — 
 we are furnished with some (jeneral rule, and only a general rule, 
 for the management of the chiaro-oscuro of a picture ; for as 
 the subjects of painting are nimierous, so also must the arrange- 
 ment of the several constituent portions of the art differ. 
 
 And now perhaj)s it may be inquired if there are not many 
 highly esteemed pictures that have not this i^oetic adaptation 
 of the lights a,nd shadows, and the answer is in the affirmative ; 
 but then it may be asked, in return, if such delineations would 
 not have had more point, and been more complete, attractive, 
 and effective with it. 
 
 This poetic adaptation of light and shadow to give expres- 
 sion, and artificial aiTangement of the masses to give breadth 
 and effect, was but little, perhaps not at all, understood by any 
 of the Italian artists previous to Da Viuci. The first evidence 
 of it is to be found in his " Battle of the Standard," and more 
 particularly in " The Last Supper," not as seen in the engraving 
 of it, for the chiaro-oscuro of this picture is said to have been 
 greatly changed by the celebrated engi'aver, Raphael Morghen, 
 
 Da Vinci was the first to perceive the value of concentrated 
 light. By suiTounding it with dark, and blending the whole by 
 imperceptible degi'ees, he gave a gentleness and a grace to the 
 art which it never before possessed. This improvement, how- 
 ever, was little appreciated by his contemporaries. 
 
 Some astonishing effects of chiaro-oscuro are to be found in a 
 few of Michael Angelo's works, particularly in his frescos in 
 the Sistine Chapel. Wilkie and some other English artists, 
 who examined them not many years ago very critically, dis- 
 covered a brilliancy in the chiaro-oscuro of some portion of 
 them which (as they thought) was not surpassed by anything 
 in Piembrandt ; but this has not been copied by the engi-aver, 
 on the supposition, as some imagine, that those portions have 
 become more brilliant by accident. But this is "all in supposi- 
 tion." That this improvement of Da Vinci was not regarded 
 
86 CHIAKO-OSCURO. 
 
 by Michael Angelo as a principle is inferred from the fact that 
 the celebrated cartoon of "The Battle of Pisa" — his greatest 
 effort, out of the Sistine Chapel — exhibits little more than 
 individual light and shade. 
 
 Although some of Raphael's productions exhibit a very skilful 
 distribution of light and shadow, as " The Donation of the Keys 
 to Peter," " The Deliverance of St. Peter from Prison," " The 
 Overthrow of Heliodorus," " The Defeat of Attila," and " The 
 Mass of Bolsena," the arrangement cannot, it is thought, be 
 referred to a principle of imitation, when he has not availed 
 himself of it in " La Incendio del Borgo," where it might have 
 been displayed with wonderful effect. 
 
 The true principles of chiaro-oscuro w^ere better understood 
 by the Venetians, but the broad effect of light and dark in their 
 paintings was more frequently the result of an accordance and 
 opposition of light and dark colors of the different objects, than 
 of any studied distribution of light and shade. 
 
 The most perfect application of chiaro-oscuro was undoubtedly 
 by the head of the Lombard school, Correggio. It is thought 
 that he got the secret from Da Vinci, but he so extended the 
 principle, that of chiaro-oscuro as it relates to a ivhole he is now 
 considered the inventor. All that is excellent in this quality of 
 art, since Correggio, dates from that master. 
 
 From that great luminary, the light first emanating from Da 
 Vinci was, about the commencement of the sixteenth century, 
 reflected upon the Flemish Rubens; which being thrown off 
 from him upon his countrymen and other painters of Europe, 
 finally became concentrated, as if passing through a lens, upon 
 that w^onder in art, Rembrandt Van Ryn. 
 
 By comparing the works of Correggio and Rembrandt, it w^ill 
 be perceived, that, although none of the painters which ancient 
 or modern art has produced have been so distinguished as they 
 were for beautiful and effective chiaro-oscuro, yet they in this 
 particvilar, bear little resemblance to each other. And this 
 is the difference. \\\ Correggio's productions the light is very 
 much diffused, in Rembrandt's it is very much concentrated, 
 — for w^hicli reason his paintings are the most brilliant and 
 
CHIAKO-OSCUKO. 87 
 
 astounding, but not the most pleasing, gratifying, or attrac- 
 tive. 
 
 There is a refinement about Correggio's art, and a fascination 
 that ckisters around him as Correggio, that makes him regarded 
 with an admiration not bestowed on any other artist. 
 
 Kembrandt excites no personal admiration, none of that afiec- 
 tion with which we regard llaphael, none of that veneration and 
 respect which the world bestows on Michael Angelo. And yet, 
 although he has been guilty of almost every offence against art, 
 sacrificing all decorum, all propriety, all beauty, all truth, all 
 regard to costume, all character, all grandeur, yet, by the rich- 
 ness of his coloring, and, abo^^^e all, by the wonderful manage- 
 ment of his chiaro-oscuro, he has produced works of such magi- 
 cal influence, and so gorgeous and overpowering in brilliancy, 
 as almost to persuade us to believe that he painted with a pen- 
 cil dipped in that "golden fountain poured from unnumbered 
 urns " when, in the morning of creation, the Almighty divided 
 the light from the darkness. 
 
ESSAY VII. 
 
 COLOR. 
 
 THE mysteries of color will form the subject of the present 
 essay. This, although the most enchanting, is, for the 
 general purposes of imitation, the least essential of the compo- 
 nent parts of painting ; certainly less so than chiaro-oscuro and 
 design, since it can effect nothing without them, while they of 
 themselves can excite great emotion in the mind, as exemplified 
 in outlines and shaded engravings. 
 
 But w^hile we are desirous to assign to color its proper posi- 
 tion, let us carefully avoid underrating its value ; for in addition 
 " to its giving more the appearance of reality to the productions 
 of the pencil, generally imparting beauty, and in many cases 
 increasing expression, there are many things in a picture almost 
 entirely dependent upon color for their representation, as pre- 
 cious stones and flowers. There is no other medium through 
 which the glow of health or the languor of sickness can be so 
 well expressed ; and the same may be likewise said of the beau- 
 ties of the atmosphere, the morning dawn, and the evening- 
 splendor ; the tender freshness of spring, too, the fervid vivacity 
 of summer, and the mellow abundance of autumn, can by no other 
 means be so well conveyed to our perception as by color. 
 
 " It serves, too, in nature and art, to characterize the various 
 qualities, textures, and surfaces of bodies in all their various 
 situations of light, shadow, and reflection ; and as every passion 
 and aff'cction has its appropriate tint, as well as attitude and 
 gesture, color lends its aid in disseminating and expressing 
 them, heightening joy, inflaming anger, deepening sadness, and 
 adding coldness to the cheek of death." 
 
 Although, in considering the subject of Color, we do not deem 
 
COLOR. 89 
 
 it within our province to enter into a chemic disquisition upon 
 the materials used in the art, however useful such information 
 might be to the practical student, yet, in order to a clear under- 
 standing of what we have to offer upon this interesting theme, 
 it may be well (even at the risk of repeating that which is gen- 
 erally learned in the schools) to explain a few of the terms 
 usually employed in discussions of this subject; for every art 
 and science has its technic appellations, and those usually em- 
 ployed in painting are iwimary and compound^ iwdtive and 
 neutraly local and rejiected, hot and cold colors, hue, tone, and tint, 
 contrast and opposition. 
 
 Hue, tone, and tint are sometimes used synonymously : they 
 have, however, a distinct meaning. We shall therefore define 
 hue as signifying the peculiar color w^hich distinguishes one pig- 
 ment from another, — as red from blue, blue from yellow, — 
 through all their varieties and combinations. 
 
 The term tint we shall employ to signify the degree of the 
 gradation of a color, from its extreme intensity to the faintest, 
 rendered more and more faint by its admixture with w^hite ; 
 and tone to signify the degree and color of the illumination of 
 the light and shadow, — as a yellow and light and gay tone by 
 ^nlight, and a gray and sombre tone by twilight; it is, in fact, the 
 color of the atmosphere resting on and qualifying the color of 
 every object in the picture. 
 
 By local color is meant the inherent hue of a color apart 
 from any foreign influence, — as reflection, refraction, excessive 
 light, or absorption of light by the atmosphere, all which have 
 an effect to change or modify color. 
 
 Modern philosophers difl^er much as to the number of colors 
 in the iris, or rainbow ; there are, however, at least seven, — three 
 of which (red, blue, and yellow) are called primary, and the four 
 others (orange, gi-een, purple, and violet) are called compound. 
 The primary being so called because they are entirely distinct 
 from each other, and cannot be formed by any admixture ; while 
 the compound are so called because formed by a union of two 
 of the primitives in equal degi'ee — in which they are distin- 
 guished from the negatives, which are compounded of the three 
 
90 COLOR. 
 
 primitives in unequal degree, and, having no jjositiveness of hue, 
 thence get their name. They have, however, more positiveness 
 of color than when the three primitives are comjDounded in equal 
 degree, as then the product is black, or no color at all. 
 
 Colors are sometimes characterized as hot and cold. The hot 
 including the reds and yellows, with their blood-relations, the large 
 family of the hi^oivns ; the cold colors including the hlues, the 
 violets, and the small family of the grays. 
 
 Peculiar influences attach to colors, and this is a most im- 
 portant circumstance to be remembered, as it involves a vast 
 deal of the philosophy of this constituent portion of painting. 
 The cold produce a softer infl,uence upon the eye than hot colors, 
 that is, excite it less. The predominance, therefore, of the cold 
 colors in subjects of a soft, tender, and pathetic character, and of 
 the warm colors in representations of gay and animated scenes, 
 is not only in accordance with the practice of the best masters, 
 but is agreeable to and explains that important principle of art 
 of which we are presently to speak, namely, that which requires 
 a correspondence to he preserved hetiveen the hues employed and the 
 sentiment of the subject, making the colors an echo to the sense. 
 
 But the ivarm colors not only excite the eye more powerfully 
 than the cool, they also come forward upon the canvas, as also 
 the admixtures wherein they most prevail ; whereas blue, and 
 all those other cool colors w^hich partake largely of it, as the 
 greens, grays, purples, and violets, seem to recede, and fall into 
 the gi'ound of the picture, particularly the gray ; and hence the 
 impropriety and adverseness to natural effect in employing cool 
 colors upon projecting objects in front, or wai'm upon those which 
 should retire, — because the former produce too little, and the 
 latter too much relief, and thus, in addition to the exciting- 
 power of the one and the non-exciting powder of the other, attract 
 an undue attention. 
 
 This rule, however, is sometimes departed from for some par- 
 ticular purpose, as either to give importance to some particular 
 figure or to throw others into insignificance, — as by Titian, in 
 one of his best pictures, " The Scourging of Christ," now in the 
 Louvre, in which he has covered i\iQ front figure (the guard) with 
 
COLOR. 91 
 
 g:ray armor, leaving the red drapery of the Saviour, a rear figure, 
 
 to act with full power and attract the eye, — Christ being a more 
 
 important 'personage than the guard, whom the composition 
 
 obliged him to place in front. 
 
 But the effect of colors in causing objects to appear to recede 
 
 and advance may be seen operating more palpably in landscape 
 
 painting, where the masses of ivarni colors are almost always 
 
 placed in the foreground, gradually diminishing, however, in 
 
 power and strength, and approximating more and more to the 
 
 bluish hues, — that is, the color of the atmosphere, — until, like 
 
 Bryant's water-fowl, they are lost in the gray distance. 
 
 " Thou art gone. 
 The abyss of heaven hath swallowed up thy form." 
 
 And this arrangement is not only agreeable to the natural effect 
 of color, but is also in obedience to the law^s of aerial perspective, 
 which means the gradual weakening of the hues of colors, — as 
 linear perspective, of their magnitude, — just in proportion to the 
 impurity of the air and their removal from the eye, — a dilution 
 that becomes weaker and weaker from the several rays w^hich 
 proceed from any object, and by w^hich it is made visible to us, 
 being more and more absorbed by or tinged with the intervening 
 atmosphere. 
 
 It is chiefly by means of this dilution or diminishing of 
 the strength of colors of objects that a painter can represent 
 them at different distances on the canvas. The diminution of 
 their magnitude alone, without this degi-adation to the color 
 of the atmosphere and indistinctness of outline and minute 
 parts, would not have the desired effect, — that is, where we 
 advance beyond a mere outline, and employ color, or only 
 shadow, — even if the rear figures were made much less in 
 size than the front figures in the same piece, as in Michael 
 Angelo and Sebastiano del Piombo's celebrated painting, " The 
 Raising of Lazarus," in which (in the original) the groups seem 
 to stand above, rather than beyond each other, the glaring- 
 opaque colors in which the more remote are represented giving 
 to them not the appearance of men of full size, but of p3'gmies 
 or Liliputians, — which would not be the case if the colors had 
 
1)2 COLOR. 
 
 been more diluted or transparent, inclining in proportion to 
 their distance more and more to the color of the atmosphere, 
 agreeably to the laws of aerial perspective. This defect, however, 
 is not apparent in the engraving, it being caused simply by too 
 much positiveness of color, and not by the chiaro-oscuro. 
 
 Much space and time might be given to a consideration of 
 the effect of light upon color, but we shall confine ourselves to 
 simply stating, that, whatever the inherent or local color of an 
 o})ject may be, whether yellow, blue, or red, in the brightest 
 light and deepest shadow they assimilate, each and all becom- 
 ing in the highest light white, in the deepest shadow black; 
 that is, in either case they have no color at all, — white being the 
 receiver of color, and black the negation of it. In the demi- 
 tint, or half light, all colors very much resemble each other, a 
 positive difference between one color and another being to be 
 seen only between the demi-tint and the highest light. 
 
 Much of the above is trite enough certainly, but in an 
 elementary treatise nothing should be taken as granted. And 
 yet it is believed no more has been said than was necessary for 
 an easy understanding of what next we have to offer in regard 
 to those qualities of good coloring called breadth, unity, and har- 
 mony, and the correspondence to be maintained between the hues 
 employed and the sentiment of the subject. And first of har- 
 mony, — for there is an accordance in colors as well as in sounds. 
 
 There are those w^ho think that harmony of colors depends 
 upon arrangement. Mr. Benjamin West had an idea that the 
 one most satisfactory w^as to be found in the iris, and endeav- 
 ored to establish a theory uj)on it, but without success, as the 
 only rational view of the matter is to regard the chromatic 
 scale as you would the gamut in music, or letters or words in 
 language, as so many signs to be combined and varied in modes 
 inmunerable. 
 
 But while we do not assent to the arrangement of colors in 
 the iris as necessary to produce harmony, and the eye delights 
 in viewing colors separately, yet, if we go beyond one color, the 
 three primitives are required to produce an agreeable arrange- 
 ment ; two will not satisfy it, but there must be a yellow, red, and 
 
I 
 COLOR. 93 
 
 blue, either, separate, or one separate and the other two combined, — 
 as a yellow and a purple, a tint compounded of red and blue ; or 
 a ?'«/ and a green, a compoimd of blue and yellow ; or a blue and 
 orange, a compound of yellow and red ; and the reason for or 
 philosophy of it is to be found in the relation such a combina- 
 tion or arrangement bears to the prismatic colors in a ray of 
 light, — light being a natural pleasure of vision. 
 
 There are those who make harmony to depend on tone and 
 reflection, — on tone, when the whole picture is wrought under 
 the same degTce of illumination, as in a sunlight view tingeing 
 all the colors with yellow, and when objects are illuminated 
 without sunshine, tingeing them with blue or gray, for the rea- 
 son that the air interposed between the colors and the eye is, ac- 
 cording to the circumstances, either yellow or blue, the effect of 
 which is to assimilate colors, and consequently assist in pro- 
 ducing harmony. 
 
 By reflection harmony is produced, when the color of one 
 object is thrown off upon the color of an object adjoining, and 
 so throughout the picture, — a method that was practised with 
 much success by the old Dutch painters, as may be seen very 
 strikingly illustrated in a small picture by an unknown artist, 
 called "A Market-Stall," which, like a great many other compo- 
 sitions of that school, represents an interior, two windows, a 
 man, a curtain, a table, a chair, two pitchers, and two cabbages, 
 — the sum-total, often, of a Dutchman's imagination, except 
 when he chooses to be very pathetic, and then he adds an 
 onion. 
 
 In this picture the light is admitted through a window on 
 the left, and, falling on a red curtain, is from that reflected with 
 a reddish hue on to yellow pitcher No. 1, and from that with 
 an acquired yellow hue on to cabbage No. 1, and thence in a 
 more modified form, with very little of the yellow tinge, but more 
 of the green, on to cabbage No. 2, and from that, with a 
 more gi'eenish tinge, is reflected on to pitcher No. 2, and thence, 
 clambering up the chair and over the back of the Dutchman, 
 passes with a faint yellow tint quietly out of the second window. 
 This, although a very humble illustration, exemplifies most 
 
94 COLOR. 
 
 forcibly the mode of producing harmony by reflection, and we 
 might add by refraction, for reflection takes place only where 
 the object receiving the color is of a polished nature. The 
 efl'ect of this process is to produce a connection between the 
 ivarm and cold colors, and consequently a union throughout the 
 composition. 
 
 There are those who think that harmony results more or less 
 from a balance of light and dark colors, that is, from their 
 being so aiTanged and proportioned as to strength and magni- 
 tude that one part shall not appear to outweigh or overpower 
 the other, making the composition impoised, or not in keeping 
 one part with the other. 
 
 In the great painting by Paul Veronese in the Louvre, " The 
 Marriage at Cana," as it is improperly called (a composition 
 containing over one hundred and sixty figures of life-size), may 
 be seen the black head of a dog protruding itself through the 
 balustrade of a building near the courtyard where the mar- 
 riage feast is being given. It is not very skilfully painted, and 
 therefore not very ornamental ; but why did the painter put it 
 there 1 The answer is obvious, — because it required some dark 
 object in that part of the design to balance the dark masses in 
 other parts of the picture. Let any one for a moment hide the 
 head with a light object, and the painting loses its position, the 
 harmonious balance is destroyed, the feelings of the spectator 
 are disturbed, and that repose which results from a symmetrical 
 disposition of colors is wanting. 
 
 Such are some of the modes by which harmony of colors 
 is produced in painting. Each is well enough as far as it goes, 
 but complete harmony of color is the result only where they all 
 unitedly operate. 
 
 In the essay on Chiaro-Oscuro we discussed at some length the 
 subject of breadth, and stated that its basis was extension, expan- 
 siveQiess, and that it was obtained by dividing into masses, or 
 uniting into large bodies, the lights and darks of a picture ; ex- 
 tension, or expansiveness, likewise is the basis of hi^eadth of color, 
 and is obtained by bringing together in separate but large 
 masses the waryn and cold colors. 
 
COLOR. 95 
 
 The effect of breadth in all instances is to give repose to the 
 eye, whereas, when this massing or extension does not obtain, 
 the eye and mind is distnrbed and cannot grasp the picture, just 
 as the ear is confounded when man}- are heard talking at once 
 on the same subject. 
 
 Wlicn breadth prevails in a composition united to harmony it 
 yields an additional delight. It may, however, exist in a picture 
 without it, because the entire surface may be divided into 
 masses of warm and cold colors, w'ithout anv assimilatinjj: or 
 connecting medium, — as w^ould be the case with the iris, were 
 the green to be withdrawn. Here there would be breadth pro- 
 duced by an extension of congenial colors, the red and yellow, 
 (hot colors) being in a mass ou one side of the green, and the 
 blue, violet, and imrple {cold colors) on the other side. Insert, 
 however, between the two the green (a color compounded of 
 yellow, a warm color, and bliie^ a cold), and the harmony is com- 
 plete as far as union can effect it through a compromising me- 
 dium. 
 
 The same would be the result in many landscapes, were not 
 the cold hues of the sky united with the warm tints of the fore- 
 ground, either by an imperceptible adjunct composed of both, — 
 that is, by the green of the middle ground, — or by a transfer of a 
 portion of the latter to the former, and a portion of the former 
 to the latter, as illustrated in one of Titian's best paintings, 
 called " Bacchus and Ariadne," representing the god, as Charles 
 Lamb has it, *^on his return from a sacrifice, with his reeling 
 satyr rout about him, encountering Ariadne, the beautiful and 
 forsaken daughter of a Cretan king, pacing the solitary shore, 
 in as much heart silence as when she awoke at break of day to 
 catch the forlorn last gh\nce of the sail that bore away her 
 Theseus." 
 
 Re^'nolds, in his admirable criticism on this painting, says : 
 "If we suppose two tints or bits of color omitted, namely, 
 the red scarf of Ariadne in the upper and colder portion of 
 the picture and a blue drapery on the shoulders of a n;yTTiph 
 in the low^er and warmer portion, it would leave the compo- 
 sition divided into two masses of color, — the one hot and the 
 
96 COLOE. 
 
 other cold, — the warm portion comprehending the reds, yellows, 
 and broivns of the foreground, and the cold portion comprehending 
 the Hues, greens, and grays of the trees and sky ; and this, as in 
 the rainbow with the green omitted, would be productive of great 
 breadth, but it would be destructive of union, and consequently 
 of liarmony, for it leaves the cold and warm colors as entirely 
 unconnected as though they were separate designs on one can- 
 vas. To correct this and restore the union, Titian has carried 
 up the warm tints of the foreground into the sky, or cold por- 
 tion of the picture, by means of the red scarf on the shoulders 
 of Ariadne, and brought down the cold tints of the sky into the 
 foreground by the blue mantle on the shoulders of the nymph 
 in the lower or warm portion of the picture; and thus, by di- 
 viding the painting into masses of loarm and cold colors, has 
 preserved the greatest hreadth, by the ojyposition of warm and 
 cold colors has increased their splendor, by exchanging those 
 of one side for those of another, as just stated, has produced 
 union and harmony, and at the same time preserved that 
 variety so characteristic of Nature's coloring. Nor is this 
 all ; for by a faithful imitation of those reflections which one 
 object throws off upon another in its immediate neighborhood, 
 and by that balance of light and dark colors which gives poise 
 and symmetry, and that tone, produced by passing a thin trans- 
 parent color over the entire surface (a process called glazing), 
 assimilating and softening down the most opjDosite tints to 
 
 " Tones so just, in such gradation thrown, 
 Adopting Nature claims the work her own," 
 
 he has combined in one design all those excellent qualities upon 
 which depends perfection in this part of art. 
 
 Continuity is another feature of good coloring but rarely if 
 ever noticed by wi'iters, although it has great value in pro- 
 moting harmony and union, besides being productive of great 
 breadth ; as when a particular color is found to vibrate, as it 
 were, along a chord, terminating in the gentle echo of such 
 color, — a pure white, for instance, eventually finding repose in 
 a deep black, or a pale yellow terminating in a deep brown ; 
 just as breadth, or expansiveness, or extension of composition and 
 
COLOR. 97 
 
 fonn is obtained, as in one of the Cartoons, where the form of 
 the dying Ananias is alHed by resemblance to those on each side 
 of him, those in front being varied in degree until, as they become 
 distant from him in the group, it is lost in the almost up- 
 right lines of the man and woman receiving alms ; and again 
 as breadth, or extension, of expression is obtained, in the same 
 Cartoon, where the terror and alarm of the principal figure 
 (Ananias) are communicated to the figure in its immediate 
 neighborhood, and are continued to the figures nearest to 
 that, but with a numerically diminished force, until they 
 are finally lost on either side in utter ignorance and indiffer- 
 ence. 
 
 There is no gi'eater excellence in a picture than breadth, — in 
 fact, no painting has much value without it ; for without breadth 
 of form there can be no grandeur, without breadth of expression 
 no nobleness, -^-ithout breadth of light and shadow no picturesqiie 
 effect, and without breadth of color no repose. 
 
 In discoursing of composition and chiaro-oscuro, it was stated 
 that these should be in accordance with, and co-operate to give 
 value and advantage to, that expression which the subject ought 
 to impress on the mind of the spectator. If space pennitted, 
 we would recapitulate the substance of those remarks, but as 
 it does not, it might help to a better understanding of what 
 follows if reference were made to them by the reader ; it would 
 then be seen, that, if the p)oetic arrangement there insisted 
 upon was necessary and proper in those two constituent por- 
 tions of the art, the same sensibility that can regulate the dis- 
 position of the forms and p)lacing of the several objects in the 
 composition, and the mode and degree of light and dark adapted 
 to the subject, whether gay, majestic, or melancholy, quiet or 
 animated, must also direct and govern in the choice of hue and 
 color which predominate through those forms and darks and 
 lights, without injuring the local tints peculiar to the situation 
 and color of the several objects. 
 
 But the propriety of adapting the color to the sentiment of 
 the subject must, we apprehend, be verv apparent ; for it can 
 require no argument to show how abhorrent it would be to our 
 7 
 
88 COLOR. 
 
 feelings to see the terrors of " The Crucifixiou " lost in the 
 magnificent glitter of a triumphal show, or the pathetic senti- 
 ment of " The Last Supper " or the touching tenderness of " The 
 Nativity" disturbed by the gaudy trappings and resi)lendent 
 illumination of a Bacchanalian feast. 
 
 To harmonize the tone and color of a picture with the sen- 
 timent is, doubtless, one of the most difficult, as it is one of 
 the most imiDortant, pai'ts of the art; but the power of color 
 in conveying sentiment has been illustrated in a variety of 
 examples, from the murky sky that envelops " The Murder of 
 Abel," by Titian, where all positive colors are kept out of the 
 picture, down to " The Tragic Muse," by Keynolds, ^vhere the 
 pale and sad colors are illuminated only by the yellow glare of 
 the lightning. 
 
 This union of color w^ith sentiment was again attained by 
 Poussin in his picture of " The Deluge," in which " by employ- 
 ing little brilliancy of tint, but rendering the whole with little 
 variation of a sombre gray, — the true resemblance of a dark and 
 humid atmosphere, by which everything is rendered indistinct 
 and colorless, — he has not only presented a faithful, but also 
 a poetic, conception of the subject ; for the effect is not only 
 pathetic, solemn, simple, and grand, but Nature seems faint, 
 half dissolved, and verging on annihilation." 
 
 The same correspondence between the sentiment and the 
 subject is sometimes to be seen in Rubens, as in his painting 
 of " The Fall of the Damned," in which he has represented the 
 abode of the blessed, in the upper part of the composition, in 
 all the j^early tender tints of the morning, whilst the lower 
 pai-t, the abode of the wicked, is lighted up by the red glare of 
 the fiery gulf, into which they are tumbling. But it was lost 
 sight of in his otherwise great design, " The Descent from the 
 Cross " ; for, although nothing can be more agTceable than the 
 flow of line in that painting, its variety, its fulntss, and its 
 effective unitij, 2^''^oductive of one end, which renders it one of 
 the masterpieces of the art, yet the richness of the effect upon 
 the eye absorbs too large a share of the attention due to the 
 solemn and overwhelming subject. A lower and lurid tone of 
 
COLOR. 99 
 
 illumination, it is thought, might have overpowered this rich 
 flow of line and color, and strengthened its due influence upon 
 the mind. 
 
 Although the principal aim of the Venetian masters was to fill 
 the canvas agreeably, and the subject is often lost sight of in the 
 medium, rather than assisted by it, — and this is particularly the 
 case in the works of Tintoretto and Paul Veronese, — yet there is 
 one picture by the former that is a remarkable exception to this, 
 namely, " The Crucifixion," in which the ominous, terrific, and 
 ensanguined hue of the whole, the disastrous twilight, that indi- 
 cates more than mortal suffering, electrifies the spectator at 
 first glance, and is such an instance of the powerful application 
 of color to expression as has never, it is thought, been equalled, 
 except, perhaps, by Rembrandt, in the bloodless, heart-appalling 
 hues spread over his " Belshazzar's Vision of the Handwriting 
 on the Wall." 
 
 But it is not necessary, we apprehend, to multij^ly examples 
 to show that the colors of a picture should be in correspondence 
 with the sentiment of the sul3Ject, should be an echo to the 
 sense ; although it may not be uninteresting nor uninstructive 
 briefly to illustrate its propriety by the analogies of music and 
 language, — for these, like painting, are imitative arts, and the 
 latter had its origin in the endeavor to express the names of 
 things by sounds. 
 
 We know that the force and perfection of language depend 
 upon such words as immediately raise the ideas iu the mind, and 
 those will more immediately have that eff'ect where there is 
 a correspondence between the soimd of the word and the senti- 
 ment, as is well exemplified in the words lightning and thunder, — 
 the one sharp and rapid, the other slow and sonorous, — and 
 again where it is said in reference to the Almighty, — 
 
 " It is he who commandeth the waters, 
 The glorious God who maketh the thunder." 
 
 It is not, however, to the words employed, that the e^itire 
 influence of language is owing, but to the tones in which it is 
 spoken; for we know there is, independent of words, a Ian- 
 
100 COLOR. 
 
 guage of nature, in which the passions are universally and in- 
 stinctively uttered. 
 
 We every moment observe the diiferent modulations of the 
 voice, when the human soul makes use of language to express 
 its emotions and sentiments. " Joy is wont to speak in clear 
 luminous sounds, agony bellows forth its accents from the in- 
 most foldings of the heart, dismay utters quivering and inar- 
 ticulate notes, the language of 2^cission flows with an impetuous 
 tide, steady contennplation modulates the terrors of its speech ; 
 each feeling expresses itself in a tone of voice distinct from that 
 accentuation arising from the syntax of language, — we do not 
 quarrel in the same tone in which we love^ 
 
 Gardner, in his admirable production called " The Music of 
 Nature," tells us that the human voice, like music, has three 
 parts, the one called the voce de petto, or the voice of the 
 breast, the common voice, and the voce de testa, or voice of the 
 head. He points out the place in the human structure whence 
 these several voices proceed. 
 
 The de petto voice, he tells us, originates low down in the 
 chest, about the region of the heart, — the tones of which are 
 of the instinctive nature, and are the most passionate ; they 
 express the inmost feelings, and are termed the langiiage of 
 the heart because they spring from that region ; the sensations 
 of pity, love, and regret are expressed in the p)'^tto voice. Next 
 above this, he continues, stands or proceeds the common voice, 
 and next to that the testa voice, or voice of the head, in which 
 higher voice are expressed rage, joy, and exidtation. 
 
 Now, whoever would be effective in language, it is quite ap- 
 parent, must adopt these tones, as did the preacher we some- 
 where read of, who, after painting in the alto the joys of the 
 blessed, descended into the extreme depths of the ^;^«o to por- 
 tray the horrors of the damned, after the fashion of Eubens in 
 the painting just now described, — and doubtless the preacher 
 was effectual ; while Mr. Burke is said, but, we think, contrary 
 to the evidence, to have been cold and unimpressive in his 
 celebrated speech at the trial of Warren Hastings, from his 
 physical inability to employ the deeper tones to clothe the sub- 
 lime images of his fancy. 
 
COLOR. 101 
 
 The musical composer is perfectly aware of these characteristic 
 peculiarities of somid in the human voice, and he is successful 
 in moving the passions only as he imitates them, as he makes 
 the sound an echo to the sense. ^ 
 
 Now "the eye is governed by precisely the same rules as the 
 ear, — gay tints, like gay sounds, animate ; stern and deep-toned 
 tints, like warlike sounds and deep bass, rouse, determine, in- 
 vigorate the eye ; the bland soothe, the rosy charm, the gray and 
 vernal melt like a sweet melody ; and therefore the truly poetic 
 painter — taking for his example that master of the terrible, Sal- 
 vator Rosa, whose rocks, trees, skies, even to the manner of hand- 
 ling, have the same wild character that animates his ferocious 
 bandits — considers the nature of his subject, whether gTave 
 or gay, tender or ferocious, magnificent or melancholy, charac- 
 ter and age, time and place, day or night, a prison or a palace ; 
 and consequently all portions of the art, form, composition, 
 chiaro-oscuro, and color, are made to lend their joint assistance, 
 not only to give 'a local habitation and a name,' but likewise 
 to convey sentiment and enforce exj^ression," 
 
 The field for this poetic adaptation is not equally great in 
 all classes of subjects. There are very many objects of the 
 pencil's imitation Avhose only charm is their naturalness, which 
 address themselves only to the eye, to the curiosity of the 
 spectator, and these are to be gi'atified. Indeed, the sentiment 
 in such cases cannot be assisted, because no sentiment exists to 
 be assisted ; but wherever there is sentiment, the painter who 
 understands his art selects such tones, hues, and degrees of 
 color as correspond to the sentiment and expression of his 
 subject ; he makes the whole an echo to the sense. 
 
 Wherever this is neglected, as was the case with some of the 
 most celebrated, but not most correct, of the old masters, the 
 painting may please the eye by its gorgeousness and picturesque 
 effect, but it will fail to exert its full and proper influence on 
 the mind and heart. 
 
 We might easily have extended our remarks upon this as 
 upon every other part of the art, and made a practical applica- 
 tion of them to dress in its connection with character, age. 
 
102 COLOR. 
 
 occu23ation, and many other things associated with our daily 
 life ; but such connections and influences will probably suggest 
 themselves to the thoughtful without any labor on our part, 
 and we therefore proceed next to notice some popular errors in 
 regard to art. 
 
 In strolling along a gallery, we have often had occasion to 
 observe that those paintings attract a great deal of admiration 
 that have great relief, that is, a statue-like appearance, or, in the 
 language of the vulgar, " look as though one might walk round 
 them." 
 
 It was this quality, rather than an exhibition of correct senti- 
 ment and truthful historical delineation, which gave so much 
 celebrity to Dubeuf 's painting of what was called "Adam and 
 Eve," exhibited in this country a few years since ; and also to 
 another by the Frenchman David, " The Death of Abel," upon 
 exhibition also in this country some years previous. 
 
 Now, although to the uninitiated there may be something 
 in all this starting from the canvas, yet no extraordinary skill 
 is required to accomplish it, nor any gTeat merit after that, 
 because no object in nature is to the eye perfectly detached 
 from all surj:'ounding objects, but unites its outline more or 
 less with everything around it, either by color, by light and 
 shade, by reflection or refraction. 
 
 A certain degree of relief is necessary to detach an object from 
 the background, but when it has the appearance of being ^jx^r- 
 fectli/ isolated, like a sculptured figure, it is unnatural, and de- 
 structive of that effect, breadth, and fulness of manner found in 
 perfection in the works of Correggio, and which is produced by 
 means directly opposite, — by melting and occasionally losing a 
 portion of the figures in the background, as on the shadowed 
 side in shadows still darker, and on the light side by an exten- 
 sion of the light ; whereas this peculiar kind of relief is obtained 
 by separating the figure from the ground, either by light, 
 shadow, or color. 
 
 You see none of this extraordinary isolation in the works of 
 good colorists. It marked the infancy of the art, and is essen- 
 tially Gothic. But if good colored pictures are not distin- 
 
COLOR. 103 
 
 guished for relief, neither are tliev for glare. "Glare, or taAvdri- 
 ness, is always the first feature of an infant and savage state. 
 This is the art of children, it is the art of the Aborigines 
 of our country, and was the taste almost to the time of 
 the great masters. (Jlods and mothers of gods, apostles and 
 martyrs, attracted devotion according to the more or less gaudy 
 coloring in which the artist arrayed them ; even Julius II. 
 wished Michael Angelo had added to the majesty of the Patri- 
 archs by the use of gold and a precious stone called Icqns lazuli" 
 
 Now although fine feathers make fine birds, fine colors do not 
 constitute fine coloring. Indeed, in a good colored picture there 
 is very little positive color, — that is, pure red, yellow, or blue, — 
 but all is very much subdued to a degree of negativeness ; and 
 hence the reason why Allston's paintings never show to the best 
 advantage when hung in galleries by the side of the glaring 
 modern productions. He once sent a picture to the English 
 Royal Exhibition that had acquired great reputation in his 
 studio, but, the " hanging committee " haying assigned it a 
 place by the side of one of Sir William Beechey's highly col- 
 ored paintings of officers on review-day, all merit seemed to have 
 been taken out of it, and it faded away into sickly insipidity. 
 AUston, however, was not ignorant of the disease it had con- 
 tracted since it left his room, nor of the mode of cure ; and as 
 the artists alw^ays are allowed a short time before the exhibition 
 opens to make any amendments that the neighboring pictures 
 suggest, purchased a half-crown's worth of j^ure yellow^, red, and 
 blue, as brilliant as the sun at noonday, and, laying them on 
 wath lavish liberality, soon brought it up to the requirement of 
 the gaudy school, and it worked like magic upon a discrimi- 
 nating jDublic ; but when, after the exhibition, the painting was 
 returned to his studio, it appeared to have contracted another 
 disease, which he, supposing that it might have been caused by 
 the poison of the pafnt he put on, at once w^ashed off (it being 
 mixed only with water), and it soon appeared well enough to 
 hold companionship in the gallery of some English nobleman 
 by the side of some of the good pictures of the old masters. 
 
 Another defect in coloring to be noticed is that smooth tea- ^ 
 
104 COLOR. 
 
 board painting, so much admired by the masses, and generally 
 passing under the name of high finish. This is the result of 
 too great a blending of the colors, as glare is of their being used 
 in too raw a state. But this, instead of producing the effect of 
 softness, gives the appearance of ivory, or some other hard sub- 
 stance, highly polished. 
 
 This stjde cannot be too severely reprobated. It was a 
 characteristic of the French school about thirty years since, 
 and perhaps even much later. It characterized the first style 
 of Raphael. The copy in the Boston Athengeum, from that 
 masters painting called " La Jardiniere," is marked by this 
 defect. It is never found in the works of good colorists. In 
 some of Rembrandt's best-colored pictures the paint may be 
 seen projecting in small lumps beyond the general surface, but 
 it is all right at the proper distance ; he carried the practice to 
 excess, and is not a model for any one who has not his skill in 
 handling. The impasted manner of Correggio is a much more 
 desirable model, and the only way in which to secure brilliancy. 
 
 In regard to no part of the art does there exist more mis- 
 taken notions than respecting the amount of detail required in 
 a well-finished picture. In order to furnish correct information 
 on that point, it is proper to state that there are three styles 
 of coloring differing widely from each other, — one where every 
 minute particular is faithfully drawn out on the canvas, as in 
 the case of the landscape painter who boasted that, like the 
 Pre-Raphaelite of the present day, he had imitated to precision 
 every leaf, every pebble, every sjDire of grass, indeed, every 
 object in nature, one by one ; another, and the opposite of this, 
 where only the broad effect is given, as in scenic, panoramic 
 painting, and the like ; and a third style, intermediate, and a 
 compromise of the two, where the detail is not entirely neg- 
 lected, but only just so much expressed upon the canvas as is 
 visible at the distance at which we generaclly view an object. 
 
 The first of these modes of imitation — that which copies every 
 minute particular — discovers in those who practise it an igno- 
 rance of the true nature of the art, and is not entitled to ad- 
 miration, because deception, at its ultimate pitch, is only the 
 
COLOR. 105 
 
 successful mimicry of absent objects, — which is more the prov- 
 ince of sculpture tlum of painting, which does not pretend to 
 give the image for the thing, but only those main characteristics 
 of form and color by which objects are generally known and 
 recogiiized, that is, not by giving simply the general resem- 
 blance in a manner as broad as in scenic painting, but by trans- 
 ferring to the canvas so many of the particulars, or details, as 
 are presented to the eye at the usual distance at which we 
 view an object. 
 
 '' Although the foliage of trees," says Reynolds, " is composed 
 of individual leaves, as the hair of the head of individual spires, 
 yet at a certain distance we see only the effects of these par- 
 ticulars, the masses, and not each leaf and spire itself; and 
 whoever in painting gives these masses, these general character- 
 istics of form and color, will, in a few minutes, give a truer repre- 
 sentation of trees or hair than a microscopic painter, like 
 Gerard Dow, in so many months. It may be remarked, that 
 the impression that is left on the mind, even of things most 
 familiar to us, is seldom more than the general effect, beyond 
 Avhich we do not look on recognizing such objects. 
 
 " Painting, it should be remembered, applies itself to the 
 imagination, not to the curiosity ; works not for the naturalist, 
 but for the common observer of life and nature. The artist copies 
 the pictm-e that is painted on the retina, and not the object 
 itself, as the sculptor does; and many of the rays of light 
 which proceed or start from the object, and by which more 
 might be made visible, are absorbed before they reach the visual 
 organ. He transfers to his canvas only just so much of the 
 picture as is made out by the rays that reach the retina, and 
 that is sufficient for all the purposes of art ; and this undoubtedly 
 is the true method of coloring, nor of coloring onl}^, but of rep- 
 resentation generally." 
 
 The great productions of Raphael and Michael Angelo are 
 not at all distinguished for luxury of coloring, or any very 
 striking effects of light and shadow. These remarks apply par- 
 ticularly to Michael Angelo, in whose paintings you find little 
 variety of tint, or richness of hues, often little more than dead 
 
106 COLOR. 
 
 coloring, a kind of reddish iron-gray, with just enough of the 
 primitives to characterize it as color; and it is thought this 
 simple style was best suited for the embodiment of his gigantic 
 conceptions, whose elements were grandeur and sublimity. 
 ■ Now the basis of gTandeur is simplicity. Everything that is 
 gTand in nature is stamped with it ; you see it in color, in the 
 king of the forest and thp king of the air. The lion and the 
 eagle have no variety of hide and plumage ; variety is the ele- 
 ment of beauty. " All ornament destroys gTandeur, as all ap- 
 paratus destroys terror. The seraglio trappings of Rubens, or the 
 soft enchanting tints of the Venetian masters, would have anni- 
 hilated the prophets and sibyls and patriarchs of Michael Angelo." 
 One moment's reflection will show how at variance it would have 
 been with the sentiment of their character and mission. 
 
 Raphael's art admitted of more positive hues than that of 
 Michael Angelo, — that of the latter was epic, of the former 
 dramatic. The reds, blues, and yellows are very positive in 
 Raphael's pictures, and especially in his easel paintings, and 
 therefore they have not that harmony and union which results 
 from their being more broken and transparent, although they 
 strike the mind more forcibly for this decision of color, — but 
 this, perhaps, is a fault, as they draw the attention from the sub- 
 ject almost as much as too great ornament ; yet we would not 
 say of this master, as cpuld justly be said of Paul Veronese, that 
 in his hands a Madonna was the least part of the subject. 
 
 But we do not mean to examine and analyze the style of 
 coloring of the several gi'eat masters, nor is it necessary ; for al- 
 though " the manner of Louis Caracci has been much extolled 
 for its solemnity of hue, that sober Uvilicfht, the air of cloistered 
 meditation, which makes it appropriate for the representation of 
 religious subjects ; and the aerial silvery lightness of Guido's tints 
 are said to be well suited for the portrayal of children, angels, 
 and the like ; the clearness and transparency of Correggio leave 
 nothing to be desired in those particulars ; and in the opinion of 
 some nothing can surpass the gay magnificence of Rubens or the 
 splendid refidgence of Rembrandt ; — yet these are partial excel- 
 lences separately possessed, but all united in the unsurpassed 
 
COLOR. • 107 
 
 productions of Titian." It is therefore to liim that we must look 
 for an exemphfication of all the principles of good coloring that 
 we have now been endeavoring to make intelligible. 
 
 How Titian was enabled to apply these principles so much 
 better than others, how he handled his brush and caused to 
 come forth from beneath its magic touch those splendid effects, 
 no one is able to explain, any more than he could why Liszt, 
 using the same instrument, touching the same keys, and follow- 
 ing the same laws of music, can produce tones and results so 
 much surpassing those of every other artist. 
 
 Some years since, I was informed by that complete gentleman 
 and accomplished artist, the venerable Mr. Sully of Philadelphia, 
 that, many years previous, a girl came up to London, professing 
 to have found out Titian's mode of coloring, and many artists, 
 among them Mr. West, paid the price of tuition, received the 
 instruction, and earned home the recipe in their pockets, but 
 with what benefit to themselves was never made manifest in their 
 after productions. The woman was an impostor. 
 
 In the year 1835, however, an artist died in England whose 
 talent as a colorist had not up to that time been surpassed 
 by anything this side of the great Venetian. I think it was 
 in the year 1816 or 1819 that he left the United States to 
 perfect himself in his chosen profession in the schools of Italy. 
 Although quite young, he had been in the "Eternal City" but 
 a few weeks, when Benvenuti, then President of the Roman 
 Academy of the Fine Arts, sought from him a knowledge of his 
 palette, so enamored was he w4th the beauty of his coloring. Un- 
 willins: to go through a long course of study in the drawing- 
 schools, he went to London, where his later and constant friends, 
 Irving, AUston, and Leslie, had preceded him ; the latter since 
 1811 had been a hard student in the Royal Academy, and at the 
 same time successfully practising his art in its various depart- 
 ments. His first efforts were in portraiture, in which he had 
 made much progress before he left the United States ; but 
 Irving, perceiving in him a rich vein of humor, suggested his 
 attempting the portrayal of " Falstaff in the Clothes-Basket," and 
 his success in painting it was so gi'eat that he acquired at once 
 
108 COLOK. 
 
 a reputation which with each succeeding effort had so increased, 
 that for several 3'ears, before disease had fastened upon his brain, 
 a painting by Stuart Nev/ton from Shakespeare, or Mohere, or 
 Cervantes, or Goldsmith, found a readier sale, among the noblest 
 patrons of the art, than those of any other artist in England, and 
 at prices exceeding those paid for paintings by other artists 
 in the same department, containing the same number of 
 figures. No artist has yet appeared in England (except Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds and Sir Benjamin West) who has held a higher 
 social position than Mr. Newton ; and no one that lived before or 
 since, as far as I know, has surpassed him in his department of 
 art, or could dispute his claim to be (up to the time of his de- 
 cease) the best colorist that has appeared since the old masters. 
 
 As a student with Mr. Newton during the years of my con- 
 nection with the English Royal Academy, I speak of him not 
 without knowledge ; and I the more readily avail myself of the 
 occasion, as it affords an opportunity to connect the old art with 
 the new, and leads one to think that the hope of a restoration is 
 not so desperate as it appeared to Sir Joshua Reynolds, when 
 he declared that there was not a man on earth that had the 
 least notion of coloring, and that all of us have equally to seek 
 for and find it out, as at present it was a lost art. That was 
 what Reynolds then thought, and he did try to find it out, 
 and is said to have scraped to destruction some fine paintings by 
 Titian in pursuit of the lost treasure. Not that he absolutely 
 needed it himself, for he had vast wealth of his own ; but he did 
 not find it, and for the same reason that the frequent seekers 
 for it did not find the sunken treasure of the pirate Kidd, name- 
 ly, that they had not discovered the j)lace where it was buried. 
 
 Instead of looking into the canvas, Reynolds should have 
 looked into the mind and soul of Titian. 
 
 The Almighty sometimes repeats himself; that is, at remote 
 intervals and for special purposes re-creates the same great mind. 
 Titian may have been a reproduction of Apelles. When, there- 
 fore, there shall have been a perfect reproduction of Titian (I say 
 a perfect reproduction, for nature has sometimes been partially 
 successful), the secret will have been once more revealed of 
 
COLOR. 109 
 
 Titian's most perfect mode of coloring. Until then, however, 
 whoever expects that by scraping and description a recipe can 
 be furnished by which an artist will be enabled to color like 
 Titian may also expect that one can be given by which to 
 sculpture like Phidias, compose like Handel or Haydn, or 
 write like Shakespeare. 
 
ESSAY VIII. 
 
 DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. 
 
 " A T no period of the world's history," says the historian, 
 -^^^^ "has the human mind displayed more wonderful ener- 
 gies than during the last part of the fifteenth and the first half 
 of the sixteenth century ; and in no field of intellectual exertion 
 is this more apparent than in that of the Fine Arts, especially 
 painting. 
 
 "As no prodigious development of moral and intellectual re- 
 sources is independent of discoverable causes and successive 
 stages of preparation, the traces of such preparatory steps are 
 in this case to be found in the state of religion, of literature, 
 of commerce, and of the active concerns of life. 
 
 " This was a period most fortunate for the art of painting, 
 whether we regard the external advantages of the time, in the 
 progress of discovery and accessory knowledge, and in the 
 eager patronage of the powerful and enlightened, or its inter- 
 nal, in the accumulated experience of many generations, which 
 left instructive traces of its progress, — the combination of 
 genius with the purest taste, and the connection of a thorough 
 mastery over the resources of the art with a sobriety and tem- 
 perance which forbade their abuse." 
 
 It was at this period that those five gi'eat masters appeared 
 whose characteristic features and vast improvements will form 
 the subject of the present and following Essay, — Leonardo da 
 Vinci, Michael Angelo BuonaiToti, Raphael Sanzio d' Urbino, Tizi- 
 ano Vecellio, and Antonio AllegTi, commonly called Correggio. 
 
 In the city of Florence at the commencement of the four- 
 teenth century died Cimabue, commonly considered the father 
 of modern painting. He was succeeded by the shepherd boy. 
 
DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND KAPIIAEL. Ill 
 
 Giotto, whose improved style became the model of the times 
 which ensued, till the appeanmce of Masaccio, who a hundred 
 years later carried the art far beyond the point it had previously 
 attained. 
 
 Masaccio's reputation remained in its turn without a rival 
 down to the period of Leonardo da Yinci, whose exquisite works 
 appear as the connecting link between the old and the new and 
 more perfect style, — a style which reached its culminating point 
 in the productions of those great painters whose names we have 
 mentioned. 
 
 Sir Joshua Re^aiolds, in classing the great masters of painting, 
 places Giulio Romano next to Raphael and Michael Angclo, — 
 Michael Angelo first, for the grandeur and sublimity of his char- 
 acters and his profound knowledge of design ; Raphael second, 
 for the judicious arrangement of his materials, and for the grace, 
 dignity, and expression of his characters ; and Giulio Romano 
 third, for possessing the true poetical genius of painting in a 
 higher degi'ee than any other artist, and he may be entitled to 
 take precedence of Titian and Correggio in that particular. As 
 we are now to consider the merits of those who founded the 
 art, not of those who followed in the footsteps of others and 
 merely applied the principles they discovered, we shall speak of 
 them as entitled to the rank usually assigned them, and, follow- 
 ing the order of enumeration, invite the attention first to a 
 brief examination of the comparative merits and improvements 
 made by Leonardo da Vinci ; and as our object is the illustra- 
 tion of principles, we shall devote no more time to their per- 
 sonal history than is absolutely necessary to convey a distinct 
 idea of their style and improvements. 
 
 DA VIXCI. 
 
 No artist probably is better known to the public generally 
 than the painter of " The Last Supper," and that through the 
 celebrated engraving, originally got up in the best style of art, 
 and since copied with greater industry and more extensively 
 circulated than any other of the productions of the old masters, 
 and yet, were we to ask any one to point out the painting that 
 
112 DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. 
 
 best illustrated the perfection of the art, I know not that we 
 should be directed to the principal attraction of the city of 
 Milan; but were we to require of any one to designate the 
 painting that had most powerfully impressed the feelings and 
 gained the strongest hold of the affections of the entire Christian 
 world, we should undoubtedly be told that it was the delineation 
 of the sacred feast by Leonardo da Vinci. 
 
 Da Vinci was bom in Florence in 1452. His biogTapher tells 
 us he was intended by his father for a merchant ; his parents thus 
 appropriating him in advance, as most parents now do, to a pro- 
 fession for which his son had then manifested, perhaps, no sym- 
 pathy or aptness. He was wiser, however, than most fathers, for 
 he did not persist in thwarting nature's intentions ; observing in 
 his son an irrepressible love for art, he placed him (very reluc- 
 tantly, of course) under the instruction of Verrocchio, the inventor 
 of linear perspective, a sculptor, and, with the versatility of the 
 age, likewise a goldsmith and a painter. 
 
 There is a great deal that is curious and interesting in the 
 general history of Da Vinci, given by his biographer; but as our 
 business is to point out the influence he exerted upon the growth 
 of art, suffice it to say that after practising his profession with 
 slow but certain success in various cities of Italy, he visited 
 France by invitation of Francis L, and died at Clou, May 2, 
 1519, at the age of sixty-seven. 
 
 It is generally conceded that Da Vinci was one of the most 
 remarkable personages whose name is recorded in history, a 
 man of the most varied acquirements, and a proficient in all, — 
 poet, painter, sculptor, musician, anatomist, architect, engineer, 
 chemist, machinist, and man of science ; he was not only con- 
 sidered one of the best of painters, but one of the most accom- 
 plished individuals of the nge he lived in. 
 
 It was this universality of talent that excited much of the 
 ridicule of Michael Angelo's biographer, who calls him " a Jack 
 at all trades, and master at none." 
 
 Ridicule, however, is not argument, and the epithet was not 
 justly applied to one in whose mind was concentrated all the 
 learning of the centuries that preceded him, and who illumined 
 
DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. llo 
 
 the way, and pointed out the path to all the improvements in 
 art and science that have been made by succeeding generations. 
 
 Those who wish to know his position as a philosopher may 
 find it admirably delineated by Mr. Hallam, in his '* History of 
 the Middle Ages." Our purpose is to consider him as a painter, 
 and, fortunately, in this resj^ect works speak louder than words, 
 and they show, in the opinion of competent judges, that the rank 
 of Da Vinci is not only among the fathers, but among the found- 
 ers, of the art; that he is to be considered not only as one who 
 preceded, but excelled, and whose excellence was well appreciated 
 by those who came after him. "His chiaro-oscuro is to be traced 
 in the magic and force of Correggio and Giorgione ; his delicate 
 and accurate delineation of character, his color, and his sweet- 
 ness of expression, reappear in Raphael ; while in anatomical 
 knowledge and energetic expression he is the real precursor of 
 Michael Angelo." 
 
 That he obtained power over the most complicated compo- 
 sition is evinced in his celebrated group of horsemen, in the 
 cartoon of " The Battle of the Standard." " The Last Supper " 
 exhibited a propriety of expression and coiTectness of drawing 
 at the time unapproached, and, if seen as originally finished, 
 probably unsurpassed. 
 
 Da Vinci was inferior to Michael Angelo in gi-andeur, boldness 
 of conception, and drawing of the figure ; but he was superior to 
 him in all the amiable parts of the art. Make the entire range 
 of painting, and you will not easily find anything that in profound- 
 ness of feeling and sweetness of expression is superior to the de- 
 lineation of Christ and the beloved disciple in "The Last Supper." 
 
 But the influence of this painter extends much farther than 
 the sphere of individual example. Although Signorelli, his con- 
 temporary, by entering the world of imagination (in the first 
 purely imaginative picture, " The Resurrection of the Dead "), 
 had extended the field of art, Da Vinci added a novel and impor- 
 tant feature to its technical department, — the science of chi- 
 aro-oscuro in its most serious character, that which is selected 
 and composed to exhibit individual objects to advantage, by 
 massing the lights and shadows. 
 
\ 
 
 114 DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND EAPHAEL. 
 
 This arrangement was distinct from the mere natural light 
 and shade of objects, brought to perfection by Masaccio ; it 
 consists principally in the selection of a concentrated light, 
 and consequently a larger quantity of shade, such as is produced 
 by lamplight, and the union of those shades with the ground of 
 relief. 
 
 Before the time of this artist, the fig-ures had the appear- 
 ance, generally, of being inlaid, or pasted on the background ; the 
 background being not unfrequently gilded, or of an entire light 
 blue or green color, without the slightest gradation or variation 
 of tint, the figure telling equally strong on all parts of the can- 
 vas, in manner not unlike the drawings on our common playing- 
 cards, and consequently meagre to an extreme degree, and with- 
 out breadth and picturesque effect. 
 
 To remedy these defects, Da Vinci made the ground to par- 
 take more or less of the color of the principal objects, — some- 
 times light in order to extend the light, and sometimes dark in 
 order to extend the dark, or shadow, with but few cutting out- 
 lines. This improvement, it is true, was upon a confined scale, 
 but it was the basis of that extension, and consequent breadth 
 of light and dark, and effect, that gave it its ultimate perfection 
 in the works of Correggio and Rembrandt. 
 
 If to these improvements in chiaro-oscuro made by Da Vinci 
 be added the complete union he effected between painting and 
 the science of anatomy, and both with nature, it may justly be 
 said that he " prepared the way " for the coming greatness of 
 Michael Angelo. 
 
 MICHAEL ANGELO. 
 
 If we were so disposed, we could not dwell long upon the his- 
 tory of the early growth of this Colossus of the arts, for, as far as 
 his professional labors are concerned, " he appears to have had 
 none ; his first efforts being fully as successful as those of his 
 later manhood." 
 
 As Michael Angelo, however, was born like other men, he had 
 an infancy, lived his allotted time, and died ; but, unlike most 
 men, his works do not follow him, for they live, and will forever 
 live, in the influence they have had upon art and the minds and 
 
DA YINXI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. 115 
 
 imagination of men, beyond those of any artist that ever existed, 
 not exeepting even Raphael himself. 
 
 "Whether Michael Angelo was or was not a greater artist than 
 Raphael is another qnestion, more properly to be considered in 
 another portion of this discourse. That he was more original 
 and a greater genius is conceded, and his influence is vast and 
 overpowering. 
 
 He was born in Florence, of a noble family, March 6, 1474, 
 twenty-three years after Da Vinci, nine before Raphael, six before 
 Titian, and twenty before Correggio, thus making him the pre- 
 cursor of all the greatest ornaments of the art save Da Vinci, all 
 of them living and at work during the same quarter of a century. 
 
 His first instructor w^as Ghirlandaio, then somewhat eminent as 
 a sculptor and a painter, and who added one important improve- 
 ment to the art, namely, aerial perspective, as the master of Da 
 Vinci added linear perspective ; so that the first tutor of each was 
 an inventor, — a genius, in the loftiest signification of the term. 
 
 The first patron of Michael Angelo and of all art was a mer- 
 chant prince, who has exercised almost as much influence over 
 the art (although in a diff'erent w-ay) as Michael Angelo him- 
 self, — Lorenzo de Medici, the most distinguished nobleman 
 among the great families of Italy. He died, however, when 
 Michael Angelo was only twenty-two years of age, in 1496. 
 
 On the death of his patron, Michael Angelo left Florence for 
 Rome, by invitation of the Cardinal St. Georgio, and while there 
 executed for the churches several statues, and among them " The 
 Dead Christ," which at once established his character as a sculjo- 
 tor. He remained in Rome at this time only about a year, when 
 he returned to Florence and was for some time in the employ of 
 the city, though he found time to design the cartoon, so famed, 
 called " The Battle of Pisa," representing groups of soldiers 
 roused by the sound of a trumpet from their bathing in the 
 river Amo, and rushing to arms, — a work that, it is thought, 
 has had more influence upon art in the right direction than all 
 other productions united. It was in competition w^ith this de- 
 sign that Da Vinci executed " The Battle of the Standard," 
 referred to in the notice of that artist. It was about this period, 
 
116 DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. 
 
 that he sculptured those magnificent statues called '* Day " 
 and "Night " upon the tomb of the Medici family, and of which 
 plaster casts, of the size of the originals, are to be seen in the 
 statue gallery of the Boston Athenaeum. 
 
 When Julius II. ascended the Papal chair, about the year 
 1503, he invited Michael Angelo, then twenty-nine years of age, 
 to the capital, to erect for him a tomb that should surpass in 
 splendor anything that had hitherto been done by man. There 
 are descriptions to be found in the books of the first magnifi- 
 cent conception of this monument, but w^e have not space to 
 give it, as it was never finished according to the original design, 
 — for, instead of forty, it is now adorned wath but seven statues, 
 and only three of them by Michael Angelo ; but one of them, 
 and that the centre figure, is the celebrated " Moses," — a w^ork 
 of unsurpassed grandeur, and exhibiting almost as miraculous 
 a powder over the marble as that displayed by the prophet him- 
 self when he smote the rock in the wilderness, and the waters 
 gushed forth. 
 
 While Michael Angelo "was engaged on this gorgeous produc- 
 tion, it was suggested to the Pope by San Gallo, an architect, 
 that he had no building of corresponding grandeur to place it 
 in. Accordingly the present structure of St. Peter's was re- 
 solved upon. Several plans were sent in, but Bramante proved 
 the successful competitor. His conceptions w^ere, however, like 
 the first conceptions of the monument, too grand for execution. 
 Had they been carried out, it would have required the contri- 
 butions of the world for their realization. They were modified, 
 and the work was proceeded with, and in the process of time, 
 a period of many years, the whole was completed. The dome 
 was the work of Michael Angelo, who also made other impor- 
 tant additions and alterations ; but w^e have not space to dis- 
 criminate. 
 
 While Bramante was engaged upon St. Peter's, and Michael 
 Angelo on the monument, the architect, becoming jealous of the 
 admiration bestowed by the Pope upon the sculptor, and instil- 
 ling into the former the dread of building his own monument, 
 suggested that the latter should be employed in painting the 
 
DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. 117 
 
 walls of the Sistiiie Chapel, then just made ready for adorn- 
 ment. Julius adopted the suggestion, and a stage projjcr for the 
 work was erected. 
 
 At this time Michael Angelo knew comparatively nothing of 
 fresco painting, or, indeed, of any kind of painting, although ji 
 great draughtsman ; having pursued drawing little further than 
 as indispensably connected with architecture and sculpture. 
 The present business, therefore, was not one that he would have 
 selected. He set about the work, however, and, having com- 
 pleted the designs in a series of cartoons, he endeavored to 
 have these painted by artists brought from Florence. On trial, 
 their labors proved entirely unsatisfactory, and he dismissed 
 them in almost utter hopelessness, and, shutting himself up in 
 the chapel with a resolution to depend in future entirely upon 
 his own individual powers, at length, after repeated difficulties, 
 achieved with his own hand in twenty-two months the entire 
 vault, — the most adventurous undertaking in modern art, — the 
 whole series embracing twenty or more large and magnificent de- 
 signs, thus named : The Forming of the World from Chaos ; the 
 Creation of Adam ; the Creation of Eve ; the Eating of the For- 
 bidden Fruit ; the Expulsion from Paradise ; the Deluge ; Xoah 
 and his Sons ; the Brazen Serpent ; Mordecai and Haman ; 
 David and Goliath ; Judith and Holofernes ; separate figures of 
 the prophets, the sibyls, and the patriarchs ; to which was added, 
 some years afterwards, the Last Judgment, — a fresco painting 
 fifty feet high and forty broad, and containing over three hun- 
 dred figm-es larger than life, on which he was engaged ten years, 
 more or less. After this, jVIichael Angelo was variously em- 
 ployed, sometimes as a painter, but generally as an architect and 
 sculptor, to the advanced age of ninety-five, when, like a shock 
 of corn fit for the reaper's sickle, this patriarch of the arts was 
 gathered to his fathers. 
 
 The oil paintings of Michael Angelo are very few, that is, those 
 which were painted by him, for there were many that he designed 
 which were colored by other artists, among them Daniel de Yol- 
 terre's '' Descent from the Cross," sometimes reckoned one of the 
 three best oil paintings ever executed ; " The Transfiguration," 
 
/ 
 
 118 DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND KAPHAEL. 
 
 by Raphael, and " The Communion of St. Jerome," by Domeni- 
 chino, completing the number. 
 
 There are those who say that he never painted more than one 
 figure in oil, — that of Lazarus in the design that makes one of 
 our illustrations, — considering fresco painting alone worthy of a 
 man, but oil painting fit for old women. 
 
 Many oil paintings are ascribed to Michael Angelo that are 
 undoubtedly impositions. Those acquainted with his stjde can 
 easily detect the cheat ; for whether in sculpture, architecture, or 
 painting, in oil or in fresco, the true works of this great artist 
 are all characterized by a peculiar sublimity of conception, gran- 
 deur of form, breadth of manner, energy, and expression. 
 
 These are the prominent features of his system, and the extent 
 to which he has carried them is that which almost entirely sep- 
 arates him from every other artist. 
 
 As these are terms that are not easily comprehended by every 
 one when applied to art, we will offer a few words in the way of 
 explanation, although we are conscious of our inability satisfac- 
 torily to accomplish it. 
 
 " Sublimity of conception " is a phrase that requires less ex- 
 planation than any of the terms employed to express Michael 
 Angelo's characteristics, as the same idea attaches to it as to sub- 
 limity in writing ; and what that is all know who read the proph- 
 ets' descriptions of the Almighty, and other similar passages in 
 the Sacred Record. 
 
 As it was from this source that Michael Angelo generally de- 
 rived his themes, and as they were always of the sublimest char- 
 acter, so rarely did he fail to render them in a manner corre- 
 sponding to the elevated nature of his subject ; and the evidence 
 of this is to be found in the fact that it rarely happens that one 
 whose tastes are highly cultivated can contemplate his best pro- 
 ductions without experiencing that elevation of the mind and 
 feelings which comes over all of us when reading the finest por- 
 tion of the Prophets, and especially their descriptions of the 
 Almighty. 
 
 The truly sublime in letters is said to be Hebrew in its origin. 
 The sublime in painting dates from Michael Angelo. 
 
DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND liAPHAEL. liU 
 
 And here perhaps it may be proper to remark, before proceed- 
 ing to analyze the next characteristic of Michael Angelo's style, 
 that it is not every one that is adequately affected by a view of 
 his productions. Reynolds on his first visit to the Vatican foiled 
 to relish the finest works even of Raphael. However, after hav. 
 ing contemplated them for a while, new tastes and new percep- 
 tions began to dawn upon him, and convinced him that he had 
 formed a false opinion of the perfection of his art, which must 
 be corrected. If, then, it required the cultivation of his higher 
 powers to appreciate Raphael, who was a purely dramatic painter, 
 how much more so is it demanded to comprehend the gTeat epic 
 series of Michael Angelo 1 Most persons at first prefer Words- 
 worth to Milton (or the ballad to the epic poem), or ballad-sing- 
 ing to the great oratorios of Handel and Haydn ; but that is no 
 argument against the superiority of Milton or Handel. The love 
 for the higher productions in the Fine Arts is, in some measure, 
 an acquired taste. 
 
 No one at first can make a successful drawing from the antique 
 statues ; he must, by looking and contemplation, have acquired 
 a portion of that communicable warmth of feeling that created 
 the original, and, when he has thus done, he can accomplish 
 that which was the object of his endeavor. So one, by famil- 
 iarity with the higher works of art, or of poetry or music, be- 
 comes susceptible to those lofty feelings of our nature which are 
 alone brought out by cultivation. There are those who are born 
 with a larger portion of this higher nature, and there are those 
 again who have little of it and cannot acquire more, and some- 
 times lose what nature originally gave them by false education 
 and neglect. Michael Angelo was one of those who, like the 
 prophets whom he delineated, had his inspiration from above, or 
 he never could have painted as they preached ; and he was as 
 much above common artists as they were above the Scril)es, who 
 merely read as a daily duty what the prophets wrote by inspi- 
 ration. 
 
 Grandeur of form was another characteristic of Michael An- 
 gelo's style, — indeed, it was the necessary consequence of sub- 
 limity of conception ; they are as intimately connected as pro- 
 priety of thought and propriety of diction. 
 
120 DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. 
 
 In Michael Angelo, grandeur of form (but we do not, in speak- 
 ing of this characteristic, confine our remarks to that only) was 
 the result of an amplification of the boundaries or contours of 
 the human form beyond what we ordinarily observe in nature, 
 as in the "Jonah," the " Moses," the "Jeremiah," and some of 
 the figures of " The Last Judgment." 
 
 In their outlines it will be seen that the concave and the con- 
 vex predominate. Those w^ho lay great stress upon particular 
 lines to convey j^articular sentiments tell us that there are none 
 which have a greater air about them ; and hence the reason why 
 in architecture vaulted roofs make a large portion of those build- 
 ings, in all countries, which are designed for pomp and magnifi- 
 cence. 
 
 " The fancy," says Mr. Addison, in the Spectator, " is infinitely 
 more struck with the view of the open air and skies when it 
 passes through an arch than when it comes through a square. 
 " There certainly can be nothing grander in art than the dome 
 of some great temple, swelling up and with its outline spanning 
 the heavens like a rainbow ; and the glorious circle itself is no 
 less indebted to its figure for its magnificence than it is to its 
 colors for its beauty." 
 
 The efi'ect of this swell of line is to give fulness, greatness, to 
 the figure and the general forms of a composition ; not the mag- 
 nitude, not the hugeness, of the elephant, but the noble, liberal 
 structure of the lion and the tiger, — animals that, although large 
 and muscular, are still graceful, but not elegant. The leopard 
 is beautiful, elegant, but not grand ; he wants that large and 
 swelling outline that distinguishes the lion and the tiger. His 
 contours are too varied, and glide into each other too impercepti- 
 bly, for this greatness of manner that we have been describing, 
 the principal characteristic of which is fewness of parts. Sim- 
 plicity is the element of grandeur ; variety, of beauty. The Doric 
 column is grand ; the Corinthian more beautiful, more elegant. 
 
 This grandeur of form in Michael Angelo's best productions 
 was not confined to a single figure, it characterized the entire 
 composition ; for whether it consisted of few or many objects, 
 those objects act in masses, and the outlines of those masses. 
 
DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND EAPIIAEL. 121 
 
 like the outlines of the single figures, are large and flowing ; thus 
 seeming to present us with the figure of the ocean, not when cut 
 lip into a thousand little surges, but when throwing up its mighty 
 bosom in large and mountain billow^s. Whoever has seen the 
 ocean after a storm at sea, when the wind has ceased, and the 
 under swell throws up its waters into three or four swelling bil- 
 lows, has seen grandeur of form in its utmost sublimity ; gran- 
 deur of movement is the outline of that same sea in motion. 
 
 This majestic grandeur of form in Michael Angelo's designs 
 was much assisted by the bold attitudes of his figures, as in 
 " The Dream," " Jonah," " Moses," and some others ; their 
 bosoms always swelling with some mighty sentiment, the pas- 
 sion found its development in an attitude or gesture of corre- 
 sponding greatness. 
 
 In fact, it was utterly impossible for Michael Angelo to do any- 
 thing in a small way. This w^as the necessary consequence of 
 the epic character of his subject, which deals only in generals 
 and rejects the minute, — or, if the minute is admitted, makes it 
 but the elements or parts of a whole ; but the petite, or little, 
 is never to be seen in the productions of this master, — all is 
 liberal, expansive, and consequently his works are characterized 
 by great " breadth of manner." 
 
 Energy — another of the characteristics of Michael Angelo's 
 style — is the result of giving distinct character to the various 
 parts of the body ; that is, although a unity of action reigns 
 through the whole, yet each portion has its peculiar part well 
 defined or articulated. Where this is not the case, but the parts 
 glide imperceptibly into each other, more beauty is acquired, 
 and with it more tameness and languor. But character (that is, 
 the particular) and beauty were admitted into the compositions 
 of Michael Angelo only so fixr as they could be made subservient 
 to grandeur. 
 
 Such are some of the characteristics of Michael Angelo's style, 
 however imperfectly presented ; and the essence of the whole was 
 given by Fuseli, when, in as powerful an expression as ever came 
 from the mouth of man, he said, " The hump of his dwarf was 
 impressed with dignity, and the beggar arose from his hand the 
 patriarch of poverty." 
 
122 DA VINCI, MICHAEL AXGELO, AND EAPHAEL. 
 
 It has been objected to Michael Angelo that his figures are 
 not natural, or rather go beyond nature, — which in a certain 
 sense is true, in the common acceptation of the term ; but they 
 are based upon nature, and no farther removed from the repre- 
 sentations of the common objects of it than the most elevated 
 music of Handel, Haydn, or Beethoven, or any other of the 
 great masters, is from the inartificial note of nature from which 
 it originates, or is an imitation of. 
 
 Many of the conceptions of Michael Angelo seem to be a sort 
 of intermediate creation between angels and men ; and though 
 they do not actually represent the physical structure of those 
 existences they pretend to portray, as the prophets, sibyls, etc., 
 3^et they make an adequate and satisfactory impression upon the 
 imagination, and thus accomplish the great end he had in view, 
 — and they do this beyond the works, in this department, of any 
 other master. There are none that so raise our wonder and as- 
 tonishment, although they do not excite our sympathies, like 
 the dramatic compositions of Da Vinci and Raphael. 
 
 We never fall in love with the works of this master. We stand 
 before them, not with a feeling allied to that with which we view 
 the rainbow, but more resembling that deeper, intenser, more 
 fearful, and elevating sensation with which we behold the light- 
 ning, and listen to the groaning of the earthquake and the roaring 
 of the thunder. Of course, but an imperfect idea can be formed 
 of Michael Angelo's great style of design from mere descrijDtion. 
 To properly comprehend him, one must have seen the works 
 themselves beneath the gloomy vaults of the Sistine Chapel ; 
 and those only who have had that privilege can fully appreciate 
 the compliment paid him by Raphael, when he thanked God 
 that he had lived in the same age with and had seen the works 
 of Michael Angelo. 
 
 EAPHAEL. 
 
 No artist ever existed, perhaps, whose works have been re- 
 garded with such unqualified admiration as those of Raphael 
 Sanzio d' Urbino. 
 
 Raphael was born in Urbino, a small town in Italy, on Good 
 
DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND liAPIIAEL. 123 
 
 Friday, April 6, 1483. His fixther was Giovanni or John Sanzio, 
 a painter of some note in his day, but his works were not of 
 sufficient merit to secure him a phice among the great artists of 
 that period. It is, however, glory enough for one man to have 
 been the parent of Raphael. Raphael was only eight years of 
 age when he lost his mother, but, his father marr^-ing the 
 second time, her place was well supplied by his step-mother, 
 who loved and cherished him as if he had been her own sou. 
 
 At this time there was living in another small city, Perugia, 
 a painter of some provincial celebrity, called Perugino, whom 
 Raphael's father had selected as the first teacher of his son, but 
 the parent dying August 4, 1494, before the arrangement was 
 completed, his wishes were carried into effect by his widow, 
 assisted by her brother, in 1495, when Raphael was just twelve 
 years of age. Unlike Michael Angelo, but like AUston's hero, 
 Monaldi, Raphael did not give any very early evidences of his 
 genius. There were more promising boys in the school than 
 he was, at starting; but he was quietly and surely laying the 
 firm and broad foundation of those solid acquirements that 
 erelong were to make him, like that same Monaldi, the delight 
 and envy of his contemporaries and a model for his successors. 
 He continued under the instruction of Perugino, we sujDpose, 
 not more than five years; for at the age of seventeen we find 
 hira acting as an assistant to Pinturicchio, a painter in the city 
 of Sienna, and, three years afterwards, a visitor in Florence, 
 whither he had been drawn by the great fame of Da Vinci and 
 Michael Angelo, — which was then, like a great circle upon the 
 water, spreading in every direction, — and perhaps to examine 
 the sculptured relics of Grecian grandeur, that at the close of 
 the fourteenth century had arisen from their burial-places to 
 decorate the palaces of the nobles, and especially the princely 
 establishment of Lorenzo de Medici. His visit to Florence at 
 this time was probably a short one, as in 1505 he was em- 
 ployed in executing large pictures for churches in Perugia, one 
 of which, an altar-piece, is now at Blenheim, England ; a 
 smaller one, of " John preaching in the Wilderness," in the 
 possession of Lord Lansdowne ; and another, a miniature design. 
 
124 DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. 
 
 called " The Dream of the Young Knight," now in the possession 
 of Lady Sykes. 
 
 When he had finished these and other works, he returned to 
 Florence, and remained there until 1508 ; during this period 
 he painted some of the most exquisite of his cabinet works, as 
 " La Belle Jardiniere," " The Lady and the Goldfinch," " The 
 Madonna under the Palm-Tree," the " St. Catherine " in the 
 National Gallery, and several others, — in all, about thirty. 
 
 As yet Raphael had never visited Rome, but he had a friend 
 at court, and a relation of some sort or other, in Bramante, the 
 architect of St. Peter's. Bramante, knowing Raphael's many 
 excellent qualities as an artist, recommended him to the then 
 Pope, Julius II., as well fitted to adorn certain halls in the 
 Vatican which Nicholas V. and Sextus IV. had left unfinished ; 
 and he did this, it is said, with the hope that one who was 
 exclusively a painter would exhibit a superiority over one whose 
 attention had been chiefly given to the sister art of sculpture, 
 and who had, as just now stated, already excited anew the 
 jealousy of Bramante by the successful manner in which he 
 was adorning the Sistine Chapel. 
 
 The invitation being given by the Pope, it was accepted by 
 Raphael, and at the age of twenty-five he commenced opera- 
 tions. The subject assigned him was " the establishment and 
 maintenance of church government " ; and this he illustrated by 
 eleven large frescos, — "Parnassus," "the School of Athens," 
 "The Dispute on the Sacrament," "The Blood-Stained Wafer," 
 " The Deliverance of St. Peter," " The Overthrow of Heliodorus," 
 " The Defeat of Attila," " The Vision of Constantino," "The Rout 
 of Maxentius," " The Burning of the Borgo," and " Constantino 
 receiving his Crown from the Sovereign Pontiff." 
 
 The first chamber was devoted to the illustration of those 
 high intellectual pursuits which embrace, in some form or other, 
 all intellectual culture, — Theology, Philosophy, Poetry, Law, or 
 Jurisprudence. 
 
 The second chamber (commenced in 1510) was devoted to the 
 illustration of the power and glory of the Church, and her 
 miraculous deliverance from her secular enemies. 
 
DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. 125 
 
 Before this chamber was finished, Juhus II. died, and was 
 succeeded by Leo X., and under his patronage was concluded 
 the great work commenced under Juhus. 
 
 In 1515 he commenced the third hall, and covered the sides 
 of it with representations of the great events in the lives of 
 Leo III. and Leo IV., shadowing forth under their names the 
 glory of his then patron, Leo X. 
 
 The last of the chambers in the Vatican, the Hall of Con- 
 stantino, was painted by Raphael's favorite pupil, Giulio Romano, 
 and other of his scholars, from designs and cartoons by Raphael 
 himself; but whether before or after his decease we cannot 
 state with any certainty. 
 
 Although Raphael had this great national work on his hands, 
 and other hardly less onerous and important duties to perform 
 as the architect of St. Peter's, — an aj)pointment he received 
 from the Pope after the decease of Bramante, — he found time 
 not only to execute the above, but also to adorn the walls of the 
 Famesina, designed and painted " The Cartoons " — originally 
 twenty-five in number — and numerous pictures in oil, among 
 them twelve full-length figiu'es of the Apostles, many altar-pieces, 
 and most of the many Madonnas that now enrich the best gal- 
 leries in Europe ; but above and beyond all else, he executed 
 that triumph of the art, "The Transfiguration," — the last be- 
 quest of his genius to the arts, as he was seized with a fever, 
 and, after a few days' illness, died on the anniversary^ of his 
 birthday in 1520. 
 
 Great was the grief of Italy. The Pope had sent daily to in- 
 quire for his health, and when told that the great painter w^as no 
 more, he burst out into lamentation for his own and the world's 
 loss. The body was laid in state, and over it was suspended 
 " The Transfiguration," yet unfinished. From his own house 
 near St. Peter's a multitude followed the bier, and his remains 
 were placed in the church of the Pantheon by the side of his 
 betrothed, a daughter of Cardinal Bibbiena, — his marriage with 
 whom was prevented by her early death. 
 
 As Raphael died on the anniversary of his birthday, he was 
 just thirty-seven years of age, — "but a youth," as Saul said of 
 
126 DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND RAPHAEL. 
 
 David, by the side of that patriarch and giant of the arts, 
 Michael Angelo, who reached the advanced age of ninety years. 
 
 Of the productions of Raphael, there remain, it is thought, 
 about a thousand ; but this number must include some of his 
 larger drawings, — an amazing prolificness under any circum- 
 stances, but the less incredible when it is known, that, although 
 he designed the whole, in the painting of them he received the 
 assistance of others. 
 
 " The Transfiguration," not entirely finished at the time of his 
 decease, was completed by his favorite pupil, Giulio Romano ; 
 but, as already stated, it was exhibited to the public as it then 
 was on the easel, beside the lifeless remains of its author ; and 
 what must have been the impression made by such an exhi- 
 bition upon the tasteful and feeling population of Italy ! 
 
 It is generally conceded that no painter has done so much for 
 the higher excellences of the art, nor, in the principles on which 
 they are founded, has placed improvement on principles so sure 
 and unchanging, as Raphael in these works. We repeat, the 
 higher excellences of the art ; for you look in vain in Raphael 
 for harmonious and powerful coloring, nor is he to be imitated 
 for a skilful arrangement of his chiaro-oscuro, nor in the 
 beauty of individual figures do we discover his chief excellence. 
 " His great pre-eminence is facility and propriety of invention, 
 the most admirable skill in composition and grouping, and, 
 above all, appropriateness of expression with great beauty and 
 expressiveness in the drapery." 
 
 "There is always in the works of Raphael a uniform subordi- 
 nation of the means to the end, and a predominance of the 
 intellectual over the sensual and the conventional. In short, 
 we behold in him the ennobling expounder of human character 
 and emotions in their universal elements." The works of 
 Raphael, therefore, do not astonish us like those of Michael 
 Angelo, but they move us, and the power of moving (as hereto- 
 fore particularly illustrated in "The Burning of the Borgo," 
 Essay IV.) is acquired directly from human s}Tiipathy. 
 
 In this statement of the characteristic features of Raphael's 
 stvle, it will be seen how widely different was the field he 
 
DA VINCI, MICHAEL ANGELO, AND EAPHAEL. 127 
 
 occupied from that of Michael Angelo, — the one being an epic, 
 the other a dramatic painter ; and that there would be no more 
 propriety in instituting a comparison between them, as is often 
 attempted, than between Milton and Shakespeare, because they 
 do not come under the same law% — ^Michael Angelo inider a law 
 that regulates a creative, Raphael under one that regulates an 
 imitative art. Which is the superior of the two arts is another 
 question, and one that it is not necessary to decide ; nor do we 
 think any one could be found to give a just and satisfactory- 
 decision. 
 
 It is claimed for Raphael, that, while others excel in some 
 one quality of art, he has combined in his labors more of the 
 requisites of perfection than any other artist. This is true, 
 and it constitutes his superiority over those who were simply 
 painters ; but it does not include Michael Angelo, for, protracted 
 as his life was, it was divided among sculjoture, painting, and 
 architecture, and but a small portion of it was devoted to 
 painting. 
 
 Although there was, it is thought, a little jealousy between 
 Michael Angelo and Raphael in their lifetime, or rather on the 
 part of the former, it is not worth while for the world to per- 
 petuate the idea, for there was no occasion for it. There was 
 glory enough in the position they each occupied to satisfy any 
 human being, and it is not now apparent that art will ever 
 produce their equals in the same departments. A new field 
 may be discovered, however, and new combinations formed ; and 
 that is the great idea always to be kept in mind, or those who 
 come after will never rightly profit by the principles of excel- 
 lence developed in the labors of those great men who have 
 preceded them. 
 
ESSAY IX. 
 
 TITIAN AND CORREGGIO. 
 
 IT is a remarkable circumstance, and one noted by early as well 
 as by later writers on the history of art, that authors and 
 artists most distinguished for their parts and genius have usu- 
 ally appeared in considerable numbers at the same time. This 
 was strikingly so with regard to sculpture in Greece and paint- 
 ing in Italy. Thus, while in Rome and Florence design in the 
 hands of Michael Angelo, and expression in those of Raphael, 
 were receiving their perfection, and forming almost the exclusive 
 subjects of study, in Venice the seductions of coloring, in Lom- 
 bardy the illusions of light and shadow, were adding unknown 
 pomp and magic to the art. 
 
 Of the great painters of the Venetian school whose names 
 have come down to us, none stand higher on the records of art 
 than Antonio de Messina, who first introduced the use of oil ; 
 the two Bellini, Tintoretto, Paul Veronese, Sebastiano del Pi- 
 ombo, Schiavone, Bassano, Giorgione, and Titian. 
 
 But of Venetian painting the gi^eat ornament is Titian, or, 
 properly speaking, Tiziano Vecellio, whose name is synonymous 
 with the characteristics of this school, — fine coloring. 
 
 Titian was born at Cadore, a small town in Italy, in the year 
 1480, twenty-nine years after Da Vinci, six after Michael 
 Angelo, three previous to Raphael, and fourteen previous to 
 Correggio. 
 
 When only ten years of age he was placed by his parents 
 under the instruction of the younger Bellini, from whom he 
 learned little save the habit of accurate delineation, the elements 
 of his future style being derived from Giorgione, a fellow-student, 
 — a style, however, first indicated, but with less amenity and 
 splendor, in the works of Da Vinci. 
 
/ . '-''■///■/^-nt/'////// •_ '^/^('//. / 
 
U >^ OS THl -4: 
 
 TBRSITt! 
 
TITIAN AND CORREGGIO. 129 
 
 We do not propose to follow Titian along the course of his 
 protracted career, as there is scarcely a city in Italy that has 
 not some public edifice ornamented with the labors of his pencil, 
 as there was scarcely a monarch of his time from whom he 
 had not received more pressing invitations and personal homage 
 than ever fell to the lot of any single private individual. Kings, 
 popes, and emperors were his daily associates ; these he painted 
 bv scores, and princes by hundreds. The number of portraits 
 of noble and ignoble personages whose heads he transferred to 
 canvas would exceed all belief, did we not know that he lived 
 to be nearly one hundred years old, and during ninety years of 
 that period hardly ceased for a day to labor with his pencil. 
 
 In other departments of painting Titian was almost as pro- 
 lific as in portraiture. Indeed, his historical efforts are so 
 numerous as to excite universal astonishment, and the more so 
 as there is no evidence, that, like Raphael, Rubens, and other 
 distinguished artists, he received any f )reign assistance. 
 
 Those of his larger productions that have given him great ce- 
 lebrity, perhaps the gi-eatest, are "The Assumption of the Virgin," 
 in the Academy at Venice, and " The ^lartyrdom of Peter," — 
 the former of which, in the opinion of some critics, " embodies 
 various excellences, such as have never been combined in any 
 single performance, save by Titian himself" ; while the latter is 
 spoken of in terms that to repeat would have the appearance 
 of hyperbole. 
 
 Among his smaller productions, the most voluptuously attrac- 
 tive are the " Danae " and the *' Venus " ; the most beautiful 
 portrait is that of his wife looking into a mirror held by Titian 
 standing behind her, — a painting belonging to the French govern- 
 ment, the same that makes our foiu'th illustration. 
 
 In comparing Titian with the great artists of the Ronian and 
 Florentine schools, it has been usual to describe him as the 
 painter of physical nature, while to them has been assigned 
 the loftier and exclusive praise of depicting the mind and the 
 passions. 
 
 The works on which Titian was employed, appertaining to 
 public edifices and the pomp of courts, were chiefly of a class 
 
4 
 
 130 TITIAN AND CORREGGIO. 
 
 in which splendid effect is the chief reqnisite ; but, if all that 
 is told us be true, it can hardly be said that the painter of 
 "The Assumption" and "The Martyrdom" was unable to cope 
 with sublimity and pathos. Neither in the drawing of the figure 
 nor in the design, in which respect his capacity has been especially 
 arraigned, is there, in the opinion of many, the imperfection 
 that is alleged against him ; and, as an evidence of this, they 
 point you to his many representations of female beauty, as the 
 Danae, the Venus, and others. But this may be said to prove 
 nothing more than that he was a skilful draughtsman, not a 
 great one; for "the first implies only a faithful copy of the 
 model, but the second an ability to correct it by an ideal 
 standard, and his subject might have embodied all the l)eau- 
 ties of form and feature to be found in those two pictures." 
 
 Michael Angelo, when he viewed his Danae, is reported to 
 have qualified his otherwise unlimited praise of this master. 
 But little stress, however, should be laid on this, for he may 
 have been judging by his own ideal standard, which, however 
 appropriate to his own style of art and the immense scale of 
 the Sistine Chapel, was by no means a just medium for the 
 forms of real life, nor adapted to the representation of beauty. 
 But, be this as it may, on one point there exists no differ- 
 ence of opinion, namely, in regard to Titian's merit as a colorist ; 
 for the united verdict of all time and of all countries has pro- 
 nounced his excellence in this respect unsurpassed, notwith- 
 standing the vast developments made since his time in the 
 chemistry of colors and general science, and the advantages 
 resulting to his successors from his example and his princi- 
 ples, — for "Titian reduced to a system what before had been 
 practised at random and without rule." 
 
 Titian was the first to unite breadth and softness to the 
 proper degree of finish, and also the first to express the nega- 
 tive nature of shade, and the effect of extreme shadow and 
 the highest light in assimilating colors, — that is, whatever 
 the local inherent hue of objects, whether red, yellow, or blue, 
 rendering them all equally black in the deepest shade, and all 
 equally white in the brightest light, or in both instances color- 
 
TITIAN AND CORREGGIO. 131 
 
 less. Before tliis, all objects in a painting, whether of a red, 
 blue, or yellow hue, were in the deepest shadow rendered only 
 of a darker red or blue or yellow, and more faintly so in the 
 highest light, — which was an error, as extreme light equally with 
 extreme shadow is the annihilator of color. This was a most/ 
 important principle, and a chief source, as heretofore men- 
 tioned, of union and harmony in his system of coloring. 
 
 Titian first taught " by contrast and opposition of warm and 
 cold colors to give splendor and expression to particular por- 
 tions of a picture, and by their balance, diffusion, and echo to 
 poise the whole. His eye, as musical as his ear, first abstracted 
 that color acts, aftects, delights, like sound ; that all actors who 
 enter upon the scene, all stages of humanity, all ages and con- 
 ditions, all passions and affections, have their characteristic color 
 and shades of difference." 
 
 It is to Titian, also, that the art is indebted for that gen- \ 
 eralizing process of expressing the image and character of ob- 
 jects by a few bold strokes of the pencil, instead of attempt- 
 ing to produce the same effect by laboriously working out the de- 
 tail ; the manner of which, and the great advantages resulting 
 therefrom, we explained and fully illustrated in the essay on / 
 Color. 
 
 The foregoing were the great improvements in the art of 
 coloring introduced by the inventive genius of Titian. To 
 fully comprehend how admirably he illustrated all this in 
 practice, one must have seen something better by that mas- 
 ter than can be discovered on this side of the Atlantic ; for 
 we doubt if a truly gi-eat and original painting by Titian ever 
 found its way to the United States. There are not many to be 
 found even in England. Sir Joshua Reynolds once told his 
 pupil, Xorthcote, that he would be willing to ruin himself to 
 possess a really fine painting by the great Venetian. No Eu- 
 ropean would think of parting willingly w^ith one ; and cer- 
 tainly a change of ownership at any time would form an era 
 in the history of art. 
 
 Titian died of the plague, at the advanced age of ninety-nine, 
 in 1576, Giorgione, his fellow-student, sixty-five years previous. 
 
132 TITIAN AND CORREGGIO. 
 
 We mention them together, because, at the time of Giorgione's 
 death, their paths tended in the same direction. 
 
 CORKEGGIO. 
 
 Of the remaining pupils of the Venetian school, especially 
 Tintoretto and one or two others, we should, had we space, 
 and did it accord with our plan, have said something ; we 
 pass them by, however, to notice a greater benefactor to the 
 arts than either, — Correggio, Antonio AllegTi, the inventor of 
 the third grand requisite to make manifest the power of the 
 art, harmony of light and shadow. 
 
 Until within a few years, less has been known of the birth, 
 fortunes, and death of Correggio than of any other distinguished 
 painter whose name is recorded in history. 
 
 It is generally stated that he lived neglected, received little 
 for his paintings, and at last died of the burden of sixty crowns 
 in copper, which, being obliged to carry it a distance of twelve 
 miles in the hot sun, so overpowered and heated him, that he 
 fell into a fever and died a few days afterwards. How any 
 one could seriously have made such a statement it is difficult 
 to conceive, for it carries a falsehood on the face of it, as sixty 
 crowns in copper would weigh nearly two hundred pounds Ameri- 
 can ; and, besides, it is inconsistent with the fact, that, from the 
 time he was twenty-five years of age, his employment constantly 
 increased, and from the nature of the works he was engaged on 
 it is quite evident that he was considered the best painter in 
 Lombardy ; and, besides, he is reported to have married a lady 
 of fortune. 
 
 There is no great peculiarity in this romance about Correg- 
 gio's death. Authors seem to think it necessary to state some- 
 thing approaching the miraculous, but oftener the ridiculous, 
 about men of genius ; it is the powder that the magician throws 
 into the box to make the egg come out a rabbit. 
 
 Correggio was born in a small town in Italy, called Correggio, 
 about the year 1494, twenty years after Michael Angelo, eleven 
 after Raphael, fourteen after Titian, and forty-two after Da 
 Vinci. His father was a merchant ; his first teacher was his 
 
TITLAJ; AND CORREGGIO. 133 
 
 uncle, Lorenzo. The gi-eater portion of Correggio's life was 
 passed at Parma. He never visited the immortal city, it is 
 said, — wliich is hardly credible ; he was a mere provincial ; 
 was entirely ignorant, it is stated, but probably not correctly, 
 of Michael Angelo, Da Vinci, Kaphael, Titian, indeed, of every- 
 thing but nature, to which he paid the last sad debt, March 6, 
 1534, 0. S., fourteen years after Raphael's decease, at the early 
 age of forty-one. He died of a malignant fever; Kaphael, as 
 we have seen, also of a fever; Titian, of the plague; Michael 
 Angelo, of old age ; Da Vinci, in a manner not stated. 
 
 The burial-place of Da Vinci is not precisely known ; probably 
 it is in Clou, France. Titian, although dying of an infections 
 disease, was, by a special decree of the Senate, buried in the 
 chui'ch of Santa Maria, in Venice. Michael Angelo reposes at 
 Florence, Raphael in St. Peter's, and all that was mortal of 
 Correggio has long since mouldered away beneath a Franciscan 
 convent in Parma, but the noblest eftbrts of his immortal pen- 
 cil still survive him in the frescos that adorn the two noble 
 cupolas of the cathedral church of his native city. These are 
 the most important w^orks of CoiTeggio in fresco. The subject 
 of one is "The Assumption of the Virgin." The number of 
 his oil paintings is quite as astonishing as that of Raphael's, 
 as he is said to have had no assistance. And among them that 
 beautiful personification of silence, meditation, and repose, " The 
 Reading Magdalen," at Dresden ; " Del Notte," also there ; the 
 " Ecce Homo," at London ; and " The Mamage of St. Catherine," 
 in the Louvre, at Paris, — have attracted universal admiration. 
 
 We have not space to particularly describe his frescos, nor 
 is it necessary, as we shall notice some of his lesser productions ; 
 and all of them, equally wdth his frescos, possess the same 
 clearness and relief, the same depth, sweetness, and purity of 
 color, the same freedom of pencil, the same gi-ace, beauty, and 
 exquisite management of light and shadow, the same breadth 
 and inexpressible harmony, — a harmony, however, be it re- 
 membered, growing out of a uniting and blending principle 
 of light and shade, and entirely distinct from that harmony, 
 dependent upon the balance and opposition of colors, w^hich 
 found Its origin and triumph in the school of Venice. 
 
134 TITIAN AND CORREGGIO. 
 
 We do not deem it necessary to enter into an analysis of all 
 the qualities of Correggio's art, for he holds several of them in 
 common with other painters, the only difference between him 
 and others in these respects being in the superior manner in 
 which he displays them. We shall dwell rather upon those 
 which at the time particularly distinguished him from other 
 artists, and upon w^hich, in a large degree, rests his great 
 fume ; and, first, of his admirable management of light and 
 shadow, which consisted simply in extending a large light, and 
 making it lose itself insensibly in the dark shadowings which 
 he placed out of the masses, as in "Del Notte," "The Mag- 
 dalen," and others which will readily occur to those who are 
 acquainted w4th the works of this master. 
 
 As the whole virtue of this principle is extension and grada- 
 tion, it is jDlain enough that the principal light need not always 
 emanate from the centre, as in " Del Notte " ; it may proceed 
 from the side, as in ''Christ's Agony in the Garden," or from 
 both sides, or from the horizon, upwards or downwards, pro- 
 vided the principle of graduated diminution be observed. 
 
 "The same feeling for gradation in the mutable effects of 
 light and shade displays itself in the rapid perspective diminu- 
 tion of his figures, as in ' Del Notte,' or ' The Nativity,' where 
 the shepherds in the foreground are quite gigantic compared 
 with the more remote, which method adds greatly in giv- 
 ing proximity and distance and creating space. So in his 
 forms every gradation from absolute hardness and sharpness 
 to almost imperceptible outline is observable ; and of every- 
 thing else the presiding principle is graduated extension, and 
 under its influence lie has artfully connected the fiercest ex- 
 tremes of light and shadow^, harmonized the most intense 
 opposition of colors, and combined the greatest j^ossible effect 
 with the sweetest and softest repose, and that without our 
 being able to perceive whence proceeds so much 23leasure to 
 the siglit." 
 
 It is to be remarked that the dark side of the several objects 
 in Correggio's paintings is not relieved, as is frequently the case, 
 by a light background, but by one still darker, — a method 
 
TITIAN AND CORKEGGIO. 135 
 
 often followed by Rembrandt, and also by Reynolds, who men- 
 tions it as giving a rich effect. The merit of this invention, 
 however, is to be divided between Correggio and Da Vinci. 
 
 We have not space to point out the defects of CoiTeggio, for, 
 although always splendid, he is said to be sometimes incorrect ; 
 but it is only a little dust upon the diamond, and hardly dims 
 its light. It would have been useful, perhaps, to have said 
 something of the Venetian stj'le of coloring, as contrasted with 
 that of the Roman and Florentine schools ; for it is to be ob- 
 served that " each has a manner peculiar to itself in some one 
 or other of the different branches of the art, each excelling 
 in that in which the others are deficient, — the Florentine in 
 design, the Roman in expression and character, the Venetian in 
 coloring, and the Lombard in light and shadow." 
 
 Whether the excellences of the several schools can ever be 
 successfully united into one is still an open question. The 
 attempt was once made by the Caracci in what w^as called the 
 eclectic or second Bologna school. The idea was a good one, 
 but the match was broken off, not so much by reason of any 
 known misuitableness in the parties as for want of jDOwer in the 
 priest to consummate the union, or, if he had the power, he did 
 not properly employ it. 
 
 The separation of pictorial excellence into departments had 
 been occasioned by partial views of nature. Had the Bolognese 
 masters taken nature as the connecting and vivifying principle, 
 instead of seeking to effect the combination by means of rules 
 of art, it is thought by some that they might have been emi- 
 nently successful. 
 
 But the consideration of this question would require an entire 
 essay, and, besides, the occasion does not demand a decision, as 
 we set out with the design simply of examining and analyzing 
 the characteristics of the founders of the four principal schools, 
 and thus to furnish a history of the progressive growth of art 
 from its infancy to manhood. 
 
 "Begun by Cimabue, strengthened by Giotto, confirmed by 
 Masaccio, still further advanced by Signorelli, we have at last 
 seen it receiving its ultimate perfection at the hands of Michael 
 Angelo, Da Vinci, Raphael, Correggio, and Titiqj|." 
 
136 TITIAN AND COEREGGIO. 
 
 The first rendered it sublime, the three next characteristi- 
 cally expressive, and the last voluptuously seductive. 
 
 With the Venetian, painting was a lady arrayed for the nup- 
 tials ; with the Koman and the Lombard, it was the personifica- 
 tion of all the sweet affections and graces of humanity ; with 
 the Florentine, it was that mysterious agency "that, standing 
 upon the boundary line between the perfect and the good, the 
 human and divine, was found not unworthy to hold intercourse 
 with the Deity, and to be the medium of the communication of 
 his will and benevolence to man." 
 
 The marble is sometimes said to breathe, and the canvas to 
 speak. If the canvas really possessed that power, while with 
 Titian it would address us as a lover, and with Raphael and 
 Correggio speak to us like a saint, with Michael Angelo it 
 woidd talk to us like a god. 
 
■ESSAY X. 
 
 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 THE present essay will be devoted to an examination of the 
 merits of some of the most distinguished deceased English 
 and French painters, in order to develop the principles of 
 two schools, that, from the time of Re^'nolds until within the 
 last quarter of a century, have given no evidence of possess- 
 ing anything in common ; indeed, they differ as widely in the 
 selection, conception, and execution of the subjects of their pen- 
 cil, as it is possible to conceive of the members of one and the 
 same art. 
 
 Had oar limits permitted, it would have been pleasant to 
 have said something more than we have incidentally of the 
 pupils and immediate successors of the founders of the art, — 
 of Giulio Romano, " the poetic Romano, the scientific Volterra, 
 the sweet and gracious Parmegiano, the extravagant and ter- 
 rible Tibaldi, the modest and tender Domenichino, the artificial 
 Carlo Dolce, the benign and graceful Guido, the agreeable and 
 playful Albini, the bold but incorrect Lanfranco, the strong but 
 ungraceful Caravaggio, the learned and tender Caracci, the origi- 
 nal and terrific Rosa " ; — we repeat, it would have been a pleas- 
 ant task to have considered at length the merits of these great 
 painters; but we pass them by, together with Diirer, Teniers, 
 Rubens, in short, almost the entire old German, Dutch, Flemish, 
 and Spanish masters, to speak of those who, though their in- 
 feriors in many important particulars, yet are deserving especial 
 consideration in this volume, inasmuch as a discussion of their 
 merits will afford an opportunity of giving a contrasted view of 
 the principles of two schools so entirely differing in every im- 
 portant particular as to justify us in designating one as the 
 
138 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 natural, the other as the affected school ; and we will commence 
 with the natural, or the English school. But first we have 
 a few remarks to make in reply to the oft-repeated inquiry, 
 why England, a nation as far advanced in all the essentials of 
 civilization as any on the Continent, had, until the coming of 
 Hogarth in 1725, produced no painter who really merited atten- 
 tion, who possessed talent for original composition, or skill to 
 render his conceptions permanent. And we are the more per- 
 suaded briefly to pursue this examination because the causes to 
 which this tardy development was owing are general in their 
 nature, and equally illustrate a similar condition of things in 
 any other country. 
 
 We do not mean it to be understood that there were no 
 painters in England during all this early period, for there was 
 Holbein, so famous in the reign of Henry VIII.; and Sir 
 Peter Lely, who figured in his light, lascivious, though graceful 
 and unmeaning manner, in the reign of Charles II. ; and Sir 
 Godfrey Kneller, Lely's rival, and, as some think, over-esti- 
 mated successor ; and Rubens, the prolific Rubens ; and the 
 elegant and refined Van Dyck, who painted and immortalized 
 the nobles of England, and adorned and enriched the palaces 
 of Charles I. But these were all foreign, not native artists. 
 
 True it is, also, that contemporary with these exotics were 
 several Englishmen who used the brush and the pencil, — for no 
 nation at all civilized is at any time without art of some kind, — 
 painters, too, celebrated in their day and generation, but whose 
 greatest glory now is not to have been quite as bad as their 
 fellow -laborers ; but they all went for nothing on the appear- 
 ance of Hogarth, whose mighty genius, as compared with all 
 that had preceded him, was as the sim to a meteor, — a meteor 
 that with a partial and momentary illumination passes along 
 the horizon, explodes, and is gone forever. 
 
 Various causes have been assigned for this condition of things. 
 Some have sought a solution in the climate of England, and 
 this probably would weigh greatly with Bunsen ; but, however 
 plausible such a supposition might have appeared up to a certain 
 period, yet it is hardly justified by the present condition of art 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 139 
 
 in England, and its degi'adcd condition in those countries once 
 most distinguished for their advancement in it. Byron says of 
 
 Greece, — 
 
 " Yet are thy skies as blue, thy crags as wild; 
 
 Sweet are thy groves, and verdant are thy fields. 
 
 Thine olive ripe as when Minerva smiled, 
 
 And still his honeyed wealth Hyniettus yields; 
 
 There the blithe bee his fragrant fortress builds, 
 
 The freeborn wanderer of thy mountain air; 
 
 Apollo still thy long, long sunnner gilds, 
 
 Still in his beam Mendeli's marbles glare, 
 Art, glory, freedom, fail, but nature still is fair." 
 
 We know that the chmate of Italy is the same now as in the 
 days of Leo and Julius, and yet, as compared with the past, 
 how poor is she in modern masters of the art ! 
 
 This matter of climate as affecting mental development is a 
 very common argument, and, with other physical causes, is doubt- 
 less entitled to consideration ; but much more importance, we 
 apprehend, is sometimes attached than justly belongs to it. A 
 better reason than this, and one that finds corroboration in the 
 history of Grecian and Italian art, is supplied by Eames, when 
 he tells us that in the time of Henry VII., when painting was 
 rendering Italy the most renowned country on earth, '' there 
 did not exist n England, as in Italy in the poetry of Dante 
 before the appearance of Michael Angelo and Raphael, and in 
 Greece in the poetr}^ of Homer before the appearance of Phidias 
 and Apelles, any standard of characteristic originality ; for, with 
 the exception of Surrey, no poet of genius had appeared in Eng- 
 land, and poetry must, nay, always does, precede painting. Nor 
 is this an accidental circumstance. The labors of the poet are 
 a creative preparation for the sister art ; for by their rapid and 
 wide-spread circulation they soften the sensibilities, arouse the 
 imagination, give to taste an existence and a feeling of its object, 
 and awaken the mind to a sense of its intellectual wants. The 
 works of poetry also constitute a common chronicle, whether of 
 fiction or of reality, whose events are dear to, and quickly recog- 
 nizable by all. Fancy thus obtains a love of its own, whose 
 legends delight by repetition, and whose imagery animates the 
 canvas and the marble." 
 
140 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 The English mind then, we may conchide, had not been suf- 
 ficiently matured, the fancy and the imagination sufficiently 
 warmed, for the pencil's work. But this state of things was not 
 always to continue ; Spenser, and a greater than he, had come. 
 For a long period, however, the great English poets were but 
 limitedly read ; they w^ere not, like Homer and Dante, the 
 morning and evening hymn of the people. The war made 
 by the Reformers and Puritans against the Romish Church 
 had a counteracting influence on art, and, at a later period, 
 "the profound speculations of Locke and the amazing demon- 
 strations of Newton w^ere by no means favorable to painting. 
 The sublime mysteries unveiled by the genius of Newton gave 
 an especial bias to men's minds, and caused his own age to 
 view with indiff'ereuce, as light and valueless, pursuits which 
 seemed to administer only to the amenities of life, or to hang- 
 only as graceful ornaments on society." 
 
 But amid all this Apollo had not sung unheard. Slowly, it 
 is true, but surely, he had been piping his way into the Eng- 
 lish heart. The great English poets were in time more exten- 
 sively read and appreciated. The great English essayists, with 
 Addison at their head, had not written in vain. The time had 
 at last arrived w hen English artistic talent, at the touch of the 
 pencil of Hogarth, was to rise from its slumbers, like Aurora 
 from the ocean, and illumine the canvas with all the tints of 
 the morning. 
 
 Hogarth first attracted public attention about the year 1725. 
 Reynolds appeared about twenty-five years subsequently. Con- 
 temporary with Reynolds were West and Barry in the historical 
 department, Opie in history and portraiture, and Wilson and 
 Gainsborough in landscape. These early artists, with More- 
 land, Beechy, Bird, and Wright a little later, with Lawrence, 
 Wilkie, Turner, Newton, Leslie, Jackson, Stanfield, Collins of 
 more recent date, and others, familiar to the world, now liv- 
 ing, form a constellation of genius whose works, with all their 
 imperfections, have not, until within a brief period, been equalled 
 bv anything this side of the Caracci, save by those masterly pro- 
 ductions of the earlier French artists, Claude, Poussin, Greuze, 
 
ENGLISH AND FllEXCH ART. 141 
 
 and Wattcan on the opposite side of the channel, and by Allston, 
 and two or three others perhaps, on this side of the Atlantic. 
 
 A gi-eat deal of eulogiuni has of late years been bestowed 
 npon the Germans, and, no doubt, so far as they worked upon 
 the principles of the ftxthers of the art, they deserved it. But 
 we are also continually hearing the praises of a school of art 
 founded l)y them, called the Pre-Kaphaelite, a branch of which 
 exists in this country, and another and a much larger one in 
 England. 
 
 As the King of Prussia, at the time of its birth, on the occa- 
 sion of laying the corner-stone of an academy of art, went so far 
 as to congratulate his audience and the world on the successful 
 discovery of, or rather return to, the only true principles of 
 painting, it is to be presumed that he did not think much 
 of Da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Titian, or Correggio, their 
 associates and successors. 
 
 Whether the King of Prussia was or was not a judge of art, 
 and the new school did or did not deserve the compliment, we 
 think hardly admits of discussion ; for if it be, as reported, that 
 the charms of color and the magic of chiaro-oscuro are entirely re- 
 jected from the compositions of this school, the main reliance being 
 on minute finish of each particular, however insignificant, and in 
 the more important designs upon drawing and expression, the 
 proposed object being to restore, as they express it, the sim- 
 plicity and severity of the masters that immediately preceded 
 those who have generally been considered the founders of mod- 
 ern art, viz., Da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Titian, and 
 Correggio, then we think they have robbed the art of its orna- 
 ments, of a large portion of that which makes it desirable and 
 attractive, and that even under the fostering care of such 
 powerful supporters as Ruskin it is not destined to endure ; 
 for, however well the dry, simple, and severe style of those early 
 painters, Cimabue and Giotto, may suit the illustrating of such 
 subjects as they generally attempted, — religion in its suffering 
 characters, — it is not fitted for the portrayal of those scenes of 
 familiar life and daily occurrence on which the painters of the 
 present day most frequently employ their pencil. If the Pre- 
 
142 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 Raphaelite painter of Germany and England is merely going to 
 repeat what has been done before, then we think his eftort will 
 be attended with small success ; for the modern artist has not 
 that deep, intense, and holy enthusiasm to nerve his hand 
 which inspired the pencil of those early painters. 
 
 Such persons need to be reminded that the art addresses 
 itself to the eye through the medium of the picturesque, as 
 w^ell as to the mind and the affections through the medium 
 of expression ; and that expression is assisted and only made per- 
 fect by the illusions of color and light and dark, or chiaro-oscm'o, 
 and that he is but a draughtsman, not a painter, who does not 
 rely upon those constituent parts of the art as well as upon 
 design, composition, and expression. 
 
 The first business of a painter is to make a picture to please 
 the eye ; the second, to satisfy the mind ; but the element of 
 the beautiful or the picturesque is, to a certain extent, variety. 
 How far this variety shall be modified by simplicity or severity 
 — that is, what shall be the degree of the picturesque in any 
 subject of the pencil's imitation — must depend entirely, as be- 
 fore demonstrated, upon the nature of the subject, w^hether 
 grave or gay, joyful or pathetic, playful or dignified, tender or 
 severe, each requiring an entirely different treatment in every 
 constituent portion of the art. 
 
 This is one of the governing ideas in art ; but where it is for- 
 gotten or rejected, and dogmatism has said that every object of 
 the pencil's imitation shall be characterized by the severity and 
 dryness of Cimabue and Giotto, the inevitable consequence must 
 be either to limit the subjects for painting to a single class, or a 
 mannerism as unsatisfactory as it is untrue and unnatural. 
 
 There may be some misunderstanding, on our part, in regard 
 to these German innovations. If its intention was only to infuse 
 into modern art more energy and vigor, to expunge from the 
 canvas, as unworthy so divine an art as that of painting, that 
 WTctched, flimsy sentimentality that, in its most diluted form, 
 finds its way to the public eye through the medium of drawing- 
 room scrap-books and souvenirs, why, well ; but if the inference 
 from it is that all changes made by Da Vinci, Michael Angelo, 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 14o 
 
 Raphael, Titian, and Correggio were only additions, not improve- 
 ments, false, meretricious, and unnatural, then we think they 
 have chosen a road that, the farther they travel in it, will lead 
 them still farther from excellence. 
 
 There is one branch of art in which the earlier painters 
 find in our own day few competitors or rivals, namely, fresco 
 painting. 
 
 No legitimate attempts after the fashion of the old masters 
 have, that I know of, been made in the United States. Wall- 
 painting on a hard surface is common, but not on the green or 
 fresh plaster, in order that the color may be incorporated and 
 dry with the plaster. It may be otherwise in Europe, but that 
 is not important to our present discussion, as it is only regard- 
 ing the execution of cabinet pictures in oil as a vehicle for colors 
 that we are now to consider the painters of England ; among 
 them none have held a higher position, and are better known 
 to the public by the numerous engravings from their works, 
 than Hogarth, Reynolds, West, Lawrence, and Wilkie. It is 
 to these distinguished artists, as the exponents of the natural 
 school, that the attention is now invited. 
 
 HOGARTH. 
 
 Of no English painter has so much been written as of Ho- 
 garth, and there is none of whose merits there exists so great 
 a difference of opinion, even among those who claim to be con- 
 sidered competent judges, for the reason that no one has been 
 estimated on principles so entirely opposite. We shall endeavor 
 to dig him out of this chaos of criticism and place him in his 
 true position. At the outset, we claim for him the merit of 
 being the first native artist who proved practically that there 
 existed in English history subjects, and in England talent, for 
 other painting than portraiture ; and, second, that he was a 
 genius, — for he found out a new branch of art, as before Ho- 
 garth there had been nothing in his style in any country on 
 earth. 
 
 This being the case, it is evident that in settling Hogarth's 
 
144 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 position we are not to judge him by the same law which we do 
 those who follow in the wake of the Italian masters, except in 
 the technic part of the art, for thereby we commit the same 
 error which the French critics do in judging Shakespeare by 
 Aristotle's rules of the drama ; both Hogarth and Shakespeare 
 were new creations, and brought their own law with them. 
 " They were a law unto themselves." 
 
 Whoever has seen Hogarth's paintings, and not the engravings 
 only, and is familiar with the best of the works of the old mas- 
 ters, needs not to be told that in his coloring and chiaro-oscuro 
 Hogarth bears no comparison with the ItaHans, and in the 
 drawing of the figure differs widely from them, "not because 
 he paints low, but every-day life. His aim, however, was not 
 to depict the sublimity of form, like them, nor the idealities of 
 form, like the Greeks, but to hold the mirror up to nature, to 
 show vice its own features, man his own image." His manner 
 of doing this was generally through the medium of satire, and 
 of his success in this there can be but one opinion. 
 
 Of Hogarth's success as an historical painter, in the common 
 acceptation of the term, we cannot speak with any great con- 
 fidence, as his efforts in this department are very limited ; but 
 an examination of his " Garrick as Richard III.," and that other 
 composition, "Paul before Felix," — although the latter has 
 glaring defects, — constrains us to acknowledge, that, had he 
 chosen to exercise this talent to any extent, he might have 
 taken a stand, as an historical painter, in advance of any other 
 painter that has appeared in England. 
 
 " But one swallow does not make a summer," as the proverb 
 has it ; therefore it is best to rest Hogarth's fame on his success 
 as a painter of satire, on his finding out a pleasant and amusing 
 way of improving the heart. 
 
 Save in one or two instances — and " Paul before Felix " is 
 one of them — Hogarth gives little evidence of having studied 
 the works of the old masters. He is said to have been of the 
 opinion that such a course led to inferiority, and cramped the 
 genius ; but in this, as a general rule, he was doubtless mis- 
 taken, although the sentiment was right as regards himself. 
 
• ENGLISH AND FRENXH ART. 14") 
 
 God saw that man required something new in art, and he 
 made Hogarth the instrument to supply the deficiency. Ho- 
 garth would have been spoiled by education. Tliere was, on 
 his part, no need for a master ; he was born one. He was one 
 of those rare geniuses that Mature sends into the world finished. 
 It is not often that she attempts it, but when she does she suc- 
 ceeds to perfection. 
 
 In this respect Hogarth resembles Shakespeare, and the for- 
 mer is as much the national painter as the latter was the 
 national poet of Great Britain; and of both it may be justly 
 said, in the words of Garrick, — 
 
 ' Their matcliless works, of fame secure, 
 
 Shall live, their country's pride and boast, 
 As long as Nature shall endure, 
 And only in her wreck be lost." 
 
 WILKIE. 
 
 The artist most resembling Hogarth was Wilkie, the j^ainter 
 of "The Blind Fiddler," "Letter of Introduction," "Rent-Day," 
 "Cut Finger," "Duncan Gray," and others well known to the 
 public. We should not have noticed him at all, eminent as he 
 was, but for an attempt made some years ago by John Burnett, 
 in his " Life of Sir Joshua Reynolds," to elevate Wilkie at the 
 expense of Hogarth ; and the reason why we should have passed 
 him by is, that he was not, like Hogarth, the discoverer of a 
 new branch of art, nor do his works develop any principle not 
 exhibited in those of the old masters ; we use him simply as 
 affording the best medium through which to reach the charac- 
 teristic features of the style of Hogarth. Burnett has been 
 severely rebuked for his injustice by a writer in Blackwood's 
 Magazine, and justly so, for in point of genius there can be no 
 comparison between them. 
 
 The superiority insisted upon by Burnett consists, as he says, 
 in Wilkie's pictures being a general exhibition of manners, while 
 Hogarth's are only isolated, local representations, — Hogarth dis- 
 playing the singularities, Wilkie the leading actions and feelings, 
 of life ; or, in other words, that Hogarth portrayed only the 
 10 
 
146 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 changeable events of his own time, Wilkie such manners as 
 depend upon standing relations and general passions, which are 
 coextensive with the race. 
 
 This is what Burnett says of Hogarth, and his opinion is only 
 one more added to the opinion of those who have not been able 
 to comprehend the genius of this master. 
 
 Now, that Wilkie's pictures are the delineations of universal 
 nature, of feelings and manners that are not limited to time 
 and place, must certainly be granted; for his "Rent-Day," 
 " Bhnd Fiddler," " Letter of Introduction," " Cut Finger," "Dun- 
 can Gray," etc., are the representations of such scenes all the 
 world over, — we mean as far as the subject and the expression 
 of the passions, feelings, and sentiments are concerned, for op- 
 pressive landlords, rej^ulsive aristocrats, cut fingers, and gentle 
 wooers are not particularly English. They are to be found in 
 every coimtry and at all times; and the feelings they excite 
 are the same in the breast of one person as another. 
 
 And so with Hogarth's productions. His " Marriage a la 
 Mode," "Rake's Progress," "Industry and Idleness," and many 
 others, are delineations of scenes and feelings not peculiar to 
 his own age or country ; for mercenary marriages, marriages for 
 a settlement, industrious and lazy apprentices, and profligate 
 young men are to be found in all climes and at all periods. 
 And it must continue to be so as long as there are mercenary 
 parents, obstinate daughters, dissipated sons, and thoughtless as 
 well as prudent clerks ; and such will always be the case until 
 human nature ceases to be swayed by other than proper motives 
 and wholesome influences. 
 
 Hogarth is of time and place — that is, local — only in his 
 costume. It is this which has so egregiously misled the critics. 
 They have looked at the binding of the book, rather than to 
 its contents ; to the clothes the man wears, rather than to his 
 actions and character. The passions that Hogarth delineates 
 and his mode of expressing them are coeval with the human 
 race ; and hence the difference, as we shall by and by point 
 out, between Hogarth and the French painters of the school of 
 David. 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 147 
 
 To repeat, the passions, feelings, sentiments, etc., that Ho 
 garth dehneates, and his manner of expressing them, are not 
 local, and the evidence of this is to be found in the fact that 
 his paintings awaken sympathy in the bosom of every spectator 
 not only of the English spectator, but of every other country ; 
 and this being so, it follows that in his art he is natural, and, 
 because natural not local, but imiversal, although his costume, 
 being local, has hindered the general perception of this truth. 
 The real difference between Wilkie and Hogarth we apprehend 
 to be this : " The latter is less ideal than the former. There is 
 also more refinement, more delicacy, in Wilkie than in Hogarth, 
 less breadth of humor, more tenderness, though not a greater 
 depth of feeling. 
 
 "They resemble each other in that, generally, they painted 
 common, not vulgar life, in which respect they both differed from 
 the Dutch and Flemish masters ; but a more striking difference, 
 particularly between Wilkie and the Dutch and Flemish masters, 
 is the entire deficiency of that delightful sentiment that the Eng- 
 lish artist has so successfully spread over his most lowly scenes." 
 Take almost any of his productions, — his "Dimcan Gray," for 
 example, — and place it by any effort of the Dutch and Flemings, 
 and you will at once understand the great excellence of Wilkie 
 and the justice of this criticism. 
 
 There are other distinguishing characteristics of this great 
 painter, but we have not time to notice them; still, although 
 they show still further his supferiority to the Flemings and 
 Dutch, they leave no doubt whatever of the inferiority of his 
 genius to that of Hogarth, or of his indebtedness to that mas- 
 ter ; for, after all that can be said of him, he did but explore 
 and richly cultivate a country of which Hogarth was the dis- 
 coverer. He may have travelled farther into the interior in a 
 finer carriage and in better company ; but Hogarth pointed out 
 to him the way, and furnished him with a portion of the means 
 w^ith which to perform the journey. 
 
 It is not often that the pioneer in any invention, discovery, 
 or improvement gets his full share of the glory. Fuseli has 
 fiuelv said of Columbus that he was the father, as it were, of 
 
148 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 this continent, but Amerigo Vespucci gave it its name ; and 
 yet Columbus, when by physical and astronomic calculations 
 he concluded to the existence of land in an opposite hemi- 
 sphere, was, in fact, the author or cause of all the discoveries 
 made by subsequent navigators. 
 
 So we may say of Hogarth's art, no matter what improve- 
 ments may have been ingi-afted upon it by others, they must 
 all date their origin from that master. They did but give 
 variations to an air originally composed by Hogarth. 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 It is not our intention to say much of this distinguished 
 painter and accomplished gentleman. The necessity for it is 
 superseded by his general notoriety, — a notoriety for which 
 he is scarcely less indebted to Johnson, Goldsmith, and other 
 members of the great literary club of that period, than to his 
 discourses, which, although sometimes rendered obscure to the 
 general scholar by the technicalities of the art, are upon the 
 whole so admirably written as to engage, not the attention of 
 artists only, but likewise that of the public at large, to such a 
 degree that "there can hardly be found an individual who 
 claims any acquaintance with general literature who has not 
 in his library, or has at least read, the Lectures of Sir Joshua 
 Eej^nolds." 
 
 Notwithstanding Hogarth was Reynolds's predecessor by nearly 
 a quarter of a century, he is not considered to be the founder 
 of tlie English school. That merit, we think, improperl}^ at- 
 taches to Reynolds. It is generally conceded that as an his- 
 torical painter Reynolds does not rank high. His " Ugolino," 
 the Italian count who with his children perished of hunger in 
 a dungeon, has been considered a failure. His " Holy Family " 
 has little more than the charm of novelty. In his " Cardinal 
 Beaufort " he reached a high degree of excellence. His " Ban- 
 ished Lord," a copy of which is owned by the Boston Athe- 
 naeum, is universally acknowledged to be a splendid effort, for 
 a single figure ; his master effort, however, in this department, 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 149 
 
 is Mrs. Siddons as "The Tragic Muse," which (if so large a com- 
 position, with its symbohc accompaniment, is to be regarded 
 as a portrait) Lawrence has pronounced the finest in existence. 
 There are those who think they can trace in it something of the 
 manner of Michael Angelo in his sibyls and prophets ; nor 
 would this be at all surprising, as from the period of his first 
 visit to Rome, before he arrived at manhood, he was a constant 
 and studious admirer of that great master. It is stated in 
 Blackwood's Magazine, that when Wilkie, Phillips, Hilton, and 
 Cooke, English painters, visited the Sistine Chapel in 1825, they 
 were struck b}^ the resemblance, in heads and figures, gi'oups 
 and hues of color, to many of Michael Angelo's pictures, but 
 that they were the more especially impressed by the simi- 
 larity of the " high aim and the power of expressing the deep 
 thoughts of the in^vard man," that now gives to Reynolds's works 
 their greatest value. It was mainly through the principles ac- 
 quired in the Vatican that he restored a degraded dejDartment 
 of painting to its former splendor. It was in the Vatican that 
 he imbibed the general greatness of his style ; it was there that 
 he obtained his power of investing his figures with innate dig- 
 nity and grace ; it was there that he learned to rise in the repre- 
 sentation of mental qualities to the height of the real, or to soar 
 into the regions of the ideal. One who is familiar with his 
 works cannot have failed to observe how numerous are the 
 mental states he has depicted, which no other artist had at- 
 tempted, and the difi'erent phases of the same passion and sen- 
 timent. This is well illustrated by his portrait of the brave 
 Commodore Keppel, in comparison with that of the no less 
 brave General Eliott (Lord Heathfield). . The Commodore had 
 been shipwrecked wdien he was but twenty-one years of age. 
 The painter has represented him walking quickly along the 
 shore, and, as he points with one hand to an object out of the 
 picture, he is evidently delivering with rapid energy some press- 
 ing order required by the emergency. 
 
 The accessories are in keeping with the incident, — a rocky 
 coast, a stormy sea, and tempestuous clouds. The hero is de- 
 picted with the elasticity of youth ; his coimtenance teems with 
 
150 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 fire, and his face and actions are alike indicative of the impetuous 
 urgency demanded by a sudden crisis. 
 
 Lord Heathfield was past sixty when the siege of Gibraltar 
 commenced, and it lasted four years. He stands upon a rock, 
 holding the key of the fortress, with the chain attached to the 
 key twice twisted round his hand. The calm courage of age, 
 the lasting power of endurance, the fixed purpose never to yield, 
 are here exchanged for juvenile spirit and impulsive ardor. The 
 iron grasp of the hand, the commanding carriage of the head, the 
 resolute confidence of the eyes, the dogged determination of the 
 mouth, all bespeak his self-possessed defiance and unchange- 
 able tenacity. No two phases of heroism could be more ap- 
 propriate and more distinct. It was never excelled even by 
 Velasquez. 
 
 And then his representations of the high-bred women of Eng- 
 land, — so stately, graceful, and elegant ; such variety in their 
 attitudes, always indicating delicacy and refinement ; and their 
 expression, always sufficiently characteristic for individuality, but 
 still with that breadth that attaches to general beauty. Among 
 the vast variety of expression in his female heads, the most fre- 
 quent is some form of pensive tenderness. They are steeped 
 in exquisite poetry, and possess the same enchanting union of 
 truth and loveliness which charm us in the creation of the 
 poet. 
 
 "Reynolds," says Leslie, "never appears more in his glory than 
 in his paintings of children. In spite of the host of affections 
 that gather round the young, this singularly winning and pic- 
 turesque stage of life had been almost overlooked by preceding 
 masters. The painters of religious subjects represented children 
 as seraphic beings, and the painters of portraits represented them 
 with tlie formal air which they wore when they sat for their 
 pictures. The happy idea occurred to Reynolds of representing 
 them as they are seen in their daily doings. He presents them to 
 us in their games, their pursuits, their glee and their gravity, their 
 archness and their artlessness, their spirit and their shyness ; the 
 seriousness with which they engage in their little occupations, 
 and tho sweet and holy innocence, are all embodied with unri- 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 151 
 
 vailed felicity. No one ever surpassed him in his love for chil- 
 dren, and liere is the secret of his success. 
 
 " Nor did his hand lose its cunning in passing from the soft- 
 est gi-aces of women and children to the attributes of men. His 
 male heads abound with masculine vigor, and are discriminated 
 by the strongest traits of individuality." 
 
 The aim of most portrait-painters is confined to external like- 
 ness ; but likeness of feature was the least achievement of Rey- 
 nolds. His was the deeper and nobler aim, the personification 
 of character. 
 
 Reynolds was peculiarly happy in the attitudes of his figures. 
 They have the never-failing accompaniment of grace and dignity, 
 and they are always in unison with the expression of the coun- 
 tenance. His figures are quite as much portraits as his fiices, 
 and the attitudes are always characteristic of the originals. 
 His choicest productions have always the beauty of extreme sim- 
 2oliciti/. These are qualities that have been rarely if ever found 
 united in any other artist in this department of painting, and 
 they render him the greatest portrait-painter that has yet ap- 
 peared in England since Van Dyck, and a perfect model for imi- 
 tation. 
 
 The greatest portrait-painter that has appeared in England, 
 and perhaps in any country, since Sir Joshua Reynolds, was 
 Sir Thomas Lawrence. The question is often asked, How does 
 he compare wdth Sir Joshua Reynolds 1 and it is not difficult to 
 answer it. On the whole, he is much his inferior. In the rep- 
 resentation of females he comes well u^) to Reynolds, and in his 
 delineation of children he is very, successful ; but in his por- 
 traits of men he falls far below him. His female portraits have 
 a YCYj fashionable and gi^aceful air about them, and his male 
 portraits are exceedingly genteel, but they want that dignified 
 and lofty air of conscious superiority that characterizes the por- 
 traits of Reynolds. 
 
 One of Reynolds's greatest excellences was his color, in which 
 particular Lawrence was not distinguished. The coloring of 
 LawTence has much brilliancy, but it is that of silver. Rey- 
 nolds's brilliancy was that of gold. By the side of the gi'eat 
 
152 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 painters of the Venetian school, the coloring of Lav^Tence is cold 
 and faded ; if it shines at all, it is only as a star at midday. 
 Reynolds, by the side of the old masters, shines as a star at 
 night, but it is one of the second magnitude. It was suffi- 
 ciently resplendent, however, to make him " the observed of 
 all observers " in his lifetime ; it certainly has not missed the 
 backward and upward gaze of posterity. 
 
 BENJAMIN WEST. 
 
 We come next, in the continuation of the subject of modern 
 art, to speak of two painters who forty years ago held a posi- 
 tion in the public estimation but little inferior to that of Michael 
 Angelo and Raphael, and who in these latter da3^s exercised in 
 England and France a much gi^eater influence upon art, but 
 whether justly or not will the better appear at the close of our 
 examination. They have both almost passed from memory, and 
 one hears as little of their once great fame as if they had never 
 existed. We refer to Sir Benjamin West and the French painter, 
 David. 
 
 West was born of Quaker parents in Philadelphia, and left 
 this country w^hen a boy, some time before or at the close of 
 the Revolution, to pursue his studies as an artist in Europe, 
 and subsequently, in the reign of George III., became President 
 of the Royal English Academy, after the retirement of Rejaiolds ; 
 he died about the year 1820, and was succeeded by Sir Thomas 
 Lawrence. David was for many years President of the French 
 Academy of Art under Napoleon, and died at Brussels in 1825. 
 He was exiled from his native land by a decree of the Bourbons 
 after their restoration, having been one of the Assembly that 
 condemned and executed Louis XVI. 
 
 There was one feature in Mr. West's character that ought to 
 endear him to the people of the United States, namely, that, 
 although a resident for sixty years of another country, the be- 
 loved of the king and the adored of the people, he never "for- 
 got Jerusalem " ; but it could not have been otherwise with one 
 whose private character was so pure and beautiful and above 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 153 
 
 reproach ; and, besides, there was something so venerable and 
 apostohc in his personal appearance that we approach him with 
 a feeling of reverence and respect not unlike that with which 
 we should enter some ancient, half-ruined cathedral, though 
 simply to study its proportions, and not for the purposes of 
 devotion. 
 
 It is not our present business, however, to speak of his many 
 private virtues, but to take his dimensions as an artist that once 
 stood in public opinion, on both sides of the Atlantic, at the 
 very head of his profession, but whose depression has for some 
 years past been at a point almost con-esponding to his former 
 elevation, thus furnishing a striking evidence of the fickleness 
 and apparent cruelty of that fortune which but too often takes 
 its victim to the Capitol, that it may the more conveniently 
 dash* him from the Tarpeian rock. 
 
 That West should have thus fallen in public estimation 
 appears very remarkable to the few living Americans who 
 remember him as the author of those once celebrated pic- 
 tures, "Death upon the Pale Horse," "Christ before Pilate," 
 "Christ healing the Sick," — paintings that were among the 
 wonders of our childhood ; but so it is, and if any irrefutable 
 evidence were wanting to support the assertion, it is supplied 
 by the ftict, in addition to the long-continued unbroken silence 
 respecting him, that at the sale of his paintings in the year 
 1830, not long after his decease, at his gallery in London, the 
 picture of " Death upon the Pale Horse," for which in his life- 
 time he refused fifty thousand dollars, — and the admission- 
 money to see which, when on exhibition, exceeded that sum, — 
 was bid in by the family for about eight thousand dollars, and 
 afterwards sold to the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts for a 
 sum far below it. There were but few of his pictures disposed 
 of at the London sale, and at sums proportionally limited. We 
 attended the sale, and speak from our own knowledge. 
 
 From this remark it must not be inferred that such was the 
 intrinsic value of his paintings, for it is generally conceded by 
 good judges that Mr. West is as much underrated now as he 
 was overrated in his lifetime. We onlv mention it as a fact, 
 
154 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 and one not very creditable to the discernment of the British 
 people ; for it was only a few years previous that he was thought 
 to have wrested the palm even from the old masters themselves, 
 and the honor paid him by both sovereign and people was equal 
 to this appreciation of his abilities. But public opinion, as al- 
 ready stated, has long since changed in England, and Mr. West, 
 although admitted to have exhibited eminent ability in many of 
 his earlier and unscriptural subjects, is now thought to have at- 
 tempted more than he could accomplish in what were once con- 
 sidered his finest efforts. 
 
 The composition is allowed to have been good ; the drawing 
 of the figures correct, and without that statue-like apjDearance 
 so universal in the French school of David of that period. This 
 the transatlantic critics concede to West ; but then, again, they 
 urge, that, to animate this framework, to inspire these moulds 
 of form and emblems of intelligence with action and sentiment, 
 the touch of that genius, to whose final aim external science 
 furnishes the bare instrument, is wanting. The representation, 
 they acknowledge, is chaste, but it is too often, they say, a rep- 
 resentation. There wants the informing mind., which gives to 
 art its truest, only mastery over the human spirit. Resolve 
 the whole into detail, examine every figure, asking for what 
 purpose it has been introduced and what aid it gives the story, 
 and one then, it is contended, not only feels, but sees, the de- 
 ficiency. 
 
 Mr. West's coloring is also considered to have been very de- 
 fective ; of this he was himself little conscious, but, w^hat- 
 ever injustice may have been done him in other respects, all 
 must concede that he was not a colorist after the manner of 
 Titian. 
 
 It is rarely that a man of eminent ability is estimated at his 
 proper value during his lifetime, but we know^ of no greater revo- 
 lution of opinion than has taken place in regard to Mr. West. 
 
 There have been frequent attempts to account for thi's change. 
 A German critic fancied that what were once considered his best 
 efforts were attractive to Englishmen because the subjects of 
 them were taken from the Bible ; but an English critic, in reply, 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 155 
 
 says that it was not so much because they were taken from the 
 Bible, as that the subjects of most of them came home to the 
 feelings of Englishmen. 
 
 Now this may in a measure account for their popularity at 
 the time, even supposing that there were some prominent de- 
 fects in their mechanical execution, but, if it was a complete 
 solution of the question, that influence ought still to con- 
 tinue to operate ; as it does not, we must seek a solution 
 elsewhere, and we think it is to be found in the influence that 
 always attaches, in monarchical governments, to the opinions of 
 the king in matters of taste, and, in this instance, to the over- 
 value placed upon Mr. West's efl'orts by his munificent patron, 
 George III., who not only had the highest appreciation of him 
 as an artist, but also a very strong personal attachment to him 
 as a man. 
 
 Now whether George III. was or was not a judge of art, 
 whether he was or was not right in his estimate, does not at 
 all aftect the question ; it was enough that he thought favor- 
 ably of Mr. West. These opinions were as a matter of duty and 
 policy caught up by the nobles, as a matter of imitation were 
 echoed back by the people, and so continued without any dimi- 
 nution or variation until the government came under the con- 
 trol of George IV., and he countermanded the orders for numer- 
 cnis paintings which West had been commissioned by George TIL 
 to execute, when public opinion immediately changed, and West's 
 popularity descended to the horizon more rapidly than it had 
 ascended to the zenith. 
 
 West's popularity, therefore, at one time, and his unpopular- 
 ity *now, are not to be regarded as any proof of either merit or 
 demerit. 
 
 West's popularity in this country at the time may be par- 
 tially accounted for by his American origin, and our willingness 
 to receive then, as correct in matters of taste, any opinions that 
 had been indorsed on the other side of the Atlantic. And it 
 was some slight gratification to our pride to know that a native- 
 bom American was President of the Royal Academy, as it im- 
 plied, whether justly or not, the inferiority of native English 
 
156 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 artists ; and this verj circumstance of West's American origin 
 doubtless had a great influence upon George IV., for he had a 
 deep-seated hatred of everything connected with a democratic 
 government, and consequently an indirect influence on the 
 public. 
 
 The present low estimate of Mr. West's once poj)ular pro- 
 ductions, however, is not confined to England, but has long 
 since found support in the opinion of competent German critics. 
 We therefore apprehend that a better reason for it is to be 
 found in the circumstance that it w^as not until after the Ml 
 of Napoleon, and Italy was throw^n open to British travellers, 
 that West was brought in such direct comparison with the old 
 m,asters, — a comparison that was the more direct, when, after 
 Mr. West's decease, two of his grandest paintings, " Christ heal- 
 ing the Sick " and " The Last Supper," were hung in the National 
 Gallery by the side of Michael Angelo's amazing production, 
 "The Raising of Lazarus," and other old paintings of acknowl- 
 edged merit. 
 
 This was a severe test, and it must be confessed, even by 
 those most partial to Mr. West, that the comparison establishes 
 his ■ inferiority past all dispute. We speak from our own ob- 
 servation. 
 
 West's inferiority, as compared with modern art, is not so 
 much insisted on. It was the opinion of Lawrence, that, with 
 few exceptions, — the claims of the beautiful and the eminent 
 permitted to the pencil of Reynolds, — West's scriptural produc- 
 tions are not only superior to any previous essays of English 
 art in this depai-tment, but surpass contemporary effort on 
 the Continent. 
 
 West's earlier efforts were upon unscriptural themes, and in 
 these no one disputes his great excellence. "The Death of 
 Wolfe," " The Battle of La Hogue," " The Death of the Stag," 
 "The Institution of the Garter," "The Calypso," and "The 
 Return of Regulus," were pronounced admirable productions 
 at the time they were painted, and are as highly and univer- 
 sally appreciated now ; but still Mr. West is not, as formerly, 
 in the public mind as a great artist. 
 
ENGLISH AND FllENCH ART. 157 
 
 Taking, however, into view all the circumstances of the case, 
 the low state of historical painting when he first attracted imh- 
 lic attention, and the undisputed excellence of his earlier essays, 
 such, even, as were on scriptural themes, and the superiority of 
 the latter as compared with modern productions in the same 
 department, we cannot but be impressed with the conviction 
 and assurance that amid the smouldering ashes of his once 
 great fame there lingers a spark that shall kindle anew, and 
 although it may not again burn with its original splendor, it 
 shall glow with sufficient brilliancy to light him onward in the 
 pathway to glory. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 The contemporary of West, on the other side of the Channel, 
 was David, the Frenchman, the regicide, the revolutionist, the 
 artist who may be said to have painted with blood ; for of all 
 his delineations, from that of the " bloody, bold, and desperate 
 Marat " to the "murder of the gentle Abel," there is scarcely a 
 single one that does not seem to be literally overflowing with 
 the crimson current of life. They called him "the painter to 
 the Emperor of France " ; rather should he have been called 
 " painter to the King of Terrors." 
 
 We do not deem it necessary to preface the remarks that we 
 shall make on this artist with an}' notice, however brief, of the 
 condition, early or late, of the arts in France ; nor shall we even 
 enumerate his productions. He is sufficiently known in this 
 country — to the older portion of it — by common report, and 
 by two paintings exhibited in the United States some years 
 since, namely, " The Coronation of Napoleon," and " Cain medi- 
 tating the Death of Abel," — the one a true historical deli)ieation 
 of that memorable transaction, the other more French than 
 Asiatic in the style of meditating a murder. We only men- 
 tion David at all, because he was the immediate rival and con- 
 temporary of West, and the once popular founder of a school 
 of art, that, by its affected and theatrical attitudes, its forced, 
 unnatural, and exaggerated mode of expressing the passions, 
 feelings, sentiments, and affections of our nature, did, notwith- 
 
158 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 standing the acknowledged genius of its head, abnost as much 
 to hinder the formation of a pure taste in art as French ideas 
 on certain subjects and French dancing have done to corrupt 
 pure sentiment. 
 
 French art, subsequent to the time of Poussin, Claude, Greuze, 
 Joseph Vernet, and their contemporaries, up to within a very 
 limited period, was false, untrue, meretricious, resulting from 
 the neglect or abandonment of nature, not French but universal 
 nature, by which is meant the permanent, general principles 
 which God stamped on man at creation, and which constitute 
 the original elements of his being. We repeat, the original ele- 
 ments of our being, and by that we intend not only the pas- 
 sions and affections, sentiments and feelings, that belong to us 
 as men, but also the mode or manner of manifesting them ; for, 
 when the Almighty planted these in the human constitution, 
 he also gave us a certain mode of expressing them, to every 
 inward emotion an outward corresponding action, gesture, and 
 attitude ; and whoever, in real life or in art, would express 
 himself effectively and with propriety, or — which is the same 
 thing — naturally, must do it agreeably to those original prin- 
 ciples, — for every variation from this manner is a modification 
 of nature and a defect, just as all national and family resem- 
 blances are a departure from and modification of the lines of 
 beauty or that general form which God gave man at creation. 
 Now French art, until within a limited period, with few excep- 
 tions, and those very remarkable, exhibited an abandonment of 
 this universality or naturalness of expression, was a transcript 
 of French character and manner, and so faithfully coj^ied in the 
 school of David, that, when w^e viewed one of their pictorial 
 delineations, we saw, if not what a native of that country 
 would have done, yet the manner in which it would have 
 been performed by a Frenchman, and not the manner in 
 which a member of the gi'eat human family ought to have per- 
 formed it. Whether it was Greek, Jew, or Arabian, Ger- 
 man or Italian, African or Asiatic, that was the subject of 
 their pencil, he became transformed, in manner, attitude, and 
 gesture, by a single dash, into a legitimate Frenchman ; but in 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 159 
 
 everything a Frenchman of that period "overstepped the mod- 
 esty of nature, tore a passion to rags, to very tatters " ; conse- 
 quently, everythhig in a French picture coming from that 
 school was ultra, extravagant, and entitled it to be called 
 the inmatural school, or school of affectation. 
 
 These extravagances of attitiide, gesture, and expression 
 pleased the French because they were a transcript of French 
 manners, of what they from familiarity with false modes had 
 got to regard as natural ; but they did not equally strike home 
 to the feelings of others. Voltaire has said that " a nation may 
 have a poetry and a music pleasing to themselves alone and yet 
 good, but in painting, although their geftius may be peculiar, it 
 can be genuine only as it is prized by all the world," — which un- 
 doubtedly is con-ect ; but it will be j)rized by all the world only 
 as it is universal, and it will be universal only as it is natural, 
 and it will be natural only as it divests itself of everything 
 purely local ; for the highest art is not to delineate the man 
 French, or the man Greek, but the man natural, the man 
 universal. 
 
 It is the representation of these permanent general principles 
 of expression which characterizes the works of the great Italian 
 masters, and which is found in such perfection in Grecian art. 
 In short, it is the great leading principle on which all the works 
 of genius are conducted. It particularly distinguishes all true 
 poets ; it marks every page of Shakespeare. His lago is not an 
 Italian, his Othello a Moor, his Lear" an Englishman, or his 
 Hamlet a Dane, they are citizens of the world, the mouth- 
 pieces only of universal feelings, of universal sentiments. 
 
 There is in the Lou\Te a portrait, by Van Dyck, of a mother 
 and her child ; in the latter almost every one thinks he dis- 
 covers some resemblance to a child of his acquaintance. How 
 is this ? It is an exact resemblance of a beautiful English girl. 
 Whence, then, this discovered resemblance 1 Simply because it 
 is true to nature, both in its attitude and expression ; unaf- 
 fected, universal childhood is there ; of this she is the true 
 representative ; and it is in every other child, until it is driven 
 out by the dancing-master and a false education. 
 
160 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 In our discourse on the different classes of painting, when 
 describing the different kinds of landscape, we directed atten- 
 tion to a picture by Poussin, an early French painter, represent- 
 ing a scene in the Deluge. The original may be seen in the 
 Louvre, among the works of the old masters. 
 
 In another part of the hall may be seen a painting on the 
 same subject by Girodet, a distinguished pupil of the David 
 school. 
 
 Poussin's design represents "a wild, mountainous country, 
 which the ever-rising waters have nearly covered. The ark 
 is seen floating afar off, and a solitary flash of lightning, shown 
 dimty through the tlii6k rain, breaks across the lurid clouds in 
 the distance. 
 
 "Among the dull, bleak rocks in front a monstrous serpent 
 winds its way slowly up, to avoid the growing waves. The 
 sky lowers upon the earth, the earth looks heavily back to 
 the sky ; all is wild, silent, and solemn, — one aw^ful gloom and 
 mighty desolation." This is Poussin. 
 
 Girodet's composition represents " a man, with his father upon 
 his back, — certainly in not the most picturesque attitude, — 
 who, whilst with one hand he clasps the breaking branch of a 
 tree, with the other pulls his wife, with a baby in her arms, up 
 after him rather unceremoniously. The wife seems to suffer 
 some inconvenience from a young gentleman, who, having lost 
 his good manners, and being mortally averse to drowning, has 
 got his mother fast hold by the hair, by w^hicli he almost pulls 
 her head off her shoulders." The whole fjimily certainly are 
 not very comfortably situated, except the tw^o extremes of life, 
 the old gentleman and the baby, who, being simply passengers, 
 care very little about it. 
 
 This is indeed horrible ; but it is a fair specimen of the 
 labored and over-charged compositions of the art of that pe- 
 riod. But what a striking contrast does it present to the 
 grandeur and repose that characterize the work of Poussin, 
 and likewise the grand and dignified simplicity of the old 
 masters ! This painting received the ten-thousand-franc pre- 
 mium, in competition Avith several others, at one of the exhi-- 
 
ENGLISH AND FRENCH AUT. I6l 
 
 bitions under the Empire, and it proves conclusively that the 
 view herein given of the art of that period is no exaggeration. 
 
 We know that even when this exaggerated style was most 
 popular, there were, as already stated, individual exceptions 
 to these remarks in the works of De la Roche, Scheffer, and a 
 few others. Scheffer, however, it should be stated, was not 
 a Frenchman, but a German. We know he is claimed for 
 France because he painted there ; but upon that principle France 
 must give up Poussin and Claude ; and Sweden, Thorwaldsen ; 
 and America, IPowers and Greenough and Crawford and Xewton. 
 
 De la Roche, certainly, in his painting of " Cromwell looking 
 into the Coffin of Charles I.," and more especially in that better 
 composition, " The Marquis of Strafford led out to Execution," 
 crave evidence of having broken from the school of David as 
 effectually as did Cimabue and Giotto and ;Masaccio from the 
 Gothic barbarities of those who preceded them. 
 
 France had a great deal to be proud of in her earlier painters. 
 The classic Poussin, the chaste Le Suem- (the French Raphael), 
 the pathetic Greuze, the playful Watteau, and the "Storm 
 King," Joseph Vernet, were a constellation of genius never 
 surpassed m England ; and, happily for art, their mfluence 
 has been again revived, and their example imitated by such 
 artists as Couture, Fleury, De la Croix, Troyon, :\Iillet, Dias, 
 and Rosa Bonheur, — all of them now more or less- eminent in 
 one or another department of the art. And yet the old school 
 of David is not without some admirers. Go into the Louvre 
 even now, and you will find artists copying Vouet, Girodet, 
 Girard, to the neglect of the better productions of the old 
 Italian school. 
 
 There was a time when this country was deluged with 
 engravings from productions of this school. They stared at 
 us from the windows of the print-shops, they leaped upon us 
 from our portfolios, they screamed to us from our centre-tables, 
 and they were the admired models of the young ladies and 
 young gentlemen at our dravring-schools ; and it is hardly bet- 
 ter now. T'he professional artist knows the error of this, and 
 he seeks a model and a guide in the ancient sculptures ; but it 
 11 
 
162 ENGLISH AND FRENCH ART. 
 
 is different in many drawing-schools, and for the reason that 
 the attempt would find little or no encouragement, — therefore 
 you rarely see laid before the scholar for study and imitation 
 anything from the works of the old sculptors and painters ; as 
 for the principles of taste, there are many teachers among us 
 who are yet to learn that any have been discovered, and that, 
 guided by those principles, the old masters were enabled to do 
 that by which the world has been made wiser and better. 
 
 "We commence wrong, and hence the false estimation of art 
 among us. 
 
 It is the same with a love for painting or sculpture or archi- 
 tecture- that it is w^ith a love for poetry ; and as he w^ho begins 
 his poetic reading with "the delightful pages of Thomson, 
 which reflect the images of that nature their author so warmly 
 loved; of Cowper, who heard everywhere the loud hosannas 
 sent from all God's works ; of Milton, who soared beyond the 
 bounds of space and time with the express design of justifying 
 the ways of God to man," — as he who thus begins his poetic 
 reading will have acquired a taste which will not easily descend 
 to vitiate itself with whatever is mean in composition and pol- 
 luting in tendency; so he who begins his acquaintance with 
 art with the time-hallowed and choicest productions of its 
 most venerated professors cannot fail " to lay also the founda- 
 tion of that purity of taste which leads directly to purity of 
 manners, by freeing the mind from appetite, and conducting 
 the thoughts through successive stages of excellence till that 
 contemplation of universal rectitude, begun by taste, shall, as it 
 is exalted and refined, conclude in virtue." 
 
ESSAY XI. 
 SCULPTURE. 
 
 THERE are none of the fine arts which the Greeks made so 
 exclusively their own, or brought to such perfection, as 
 sculpture. 
 
 In painting they may or may not have been in some respects 
 inferior to the Italians, as our means of forming a decisive 
 opinion on this point are insufficient; but in sculpture they 
 still retain a pre-eminence which no nation can pretend to dis- 
 pute, and which, in its peculiar line, probably can never be 
 surpassed. Other nations may, at some period or other, have 
 a class of sculpture equal to and even surpassing that of the 
 Greeks, but it can hardly be in that class of sculpture which 
 the Greeks practised and brought to such perfection during the 
 hundred and sixty years that elapsed from the time of Pericles 
 to the death of Alexander the Great, three hundred and thirty 
 years before Christ. 
 
 The history of early Grecian sculpture is so involved in 
 obscurity that it is hardly worth while to spend our time in 
 trying to learn its condition, or in seeking to know who most 
 excelled in it. We read of one Daedalus as surpassing all who 
 preceded him; but even he, if such a one ever existed, could 
 have been great only in comparison with his less excellent con- 
 temporaries, for it was not until several centuries subsequent 
 to him that sculpture succeeded in obtaining even a tolerable 
 likeness of the human form. 
 
 The chief reported occurrences in the history of early Greece 
 were the Argonautic Expedition, the war of Thebes, and the 
 taking of Troy. How much of this was poetic fiction, and how 
 much was fact, it is not possible to tell ; nor do we get into the 
 
164 SCULPTURE. 
 
 region of certainty until at a much later period, when the bat- 
 tles of Marathon and Salamis struck the first decided blow at 
 Persian power, and gave a beginning to the Grecian, or third 
 great monarchy of the world. 
 
 An event of so much importance, by changing fortune and 
 transferring power in so large a portion of the civilized part of 
 mankind, raised the character of the Greeks ; and their heroic 
 ardor, increased by success, soon sought additional distinction 
 by every great and praiseworthy exertion of body and mind in 
 arts and in amis. 
 
 "The accumulated wisdom of ages and the discoveries in 
 science were taught by their philosophers ; their temples and 
 pubhc buildings were raised with a magnificence unknown 
 before, and decorated with all the powers of art. ^schylus, 
 Euripides, and Sophocles ennobled the minds of the people by 
 their dramatic poetry ; the exercises which formed the body to 
 exertion and beauty and the mind to fortitude and patriotism 
 were universally 2}racti8ed, cultivated, and honored. In this 
 general spirit of enterprise and improvement, sculpture appeared 
 in the school of Phidias with a beauty and j^erfection which 
 surpassed all former efforts." When we read, also, that con- 
 temporary with the dramatic poets were the philosophers 
 Socrates, Plato, and Anaxagoras, and the statesmen and war- 
 riors Pericles, Miltiades, Themistocles, Cimon, and Xenophon, 
 it must be confessed that no j^eriod in the world's history could 
 have been more favorable in its moral and political circum- 
 stances, and in the emulation of rare talent, to produce the 
 display and encourage the growth of genius. 
 
 The city and the citadel of Athens had been burned by the 
 army of Xerxes. This, in one aspect of the matter, was a 
 fortunate circumstance ; for the Greeks, nevertheless, being 
 conquerors, it eventuated in the raising of more stately edifices 
 in the place of those destroyed, and the employment of Phidias 
 to su]3erintend and decorate the temple of Minerva and other 
 public works on the Acropolis of Athens. 
 
 " A few years before the birth of Phidias, Hipparchus had 
 formed a public library for the Athenians, in which were placed 
 
SCULPTURE. 165 
 
 the works of Homer, which lie had collected and aiTanged. As 
 they were more complete they became more popular. Socrates 
 employed their language in moral discourses, and Plato in 
 images and reasonings to embody and convey the theologies of 
 Orjjheus and Pythagoras. Their poets formed tragedies from 
 the Iliad and the Thebais. Homer supplied subjects for the 
 painter and the sculptor, and his descrix>tions fixed the. j^ersons 
 and aftrihites of the gods.'" 
 
 Phidias was the first sculptor to avail himself of the advan- 
 tages of the times. He entered heart and hand into the ref- 
 ormation ; and his improvements soon reached the climax of 
 perfection in that wonder of art, the Jupiter of Elis, and that 
 hardly less remarkable production, the Minerva Athene, the 
 protectress and patroness of the capital of Greece. 
 
 The emulators of Phidias were Alcamenes, Critias, and 
 Nestocles, and, twenty years afterwards, Agelades, Gallon, Poly- 
 cletus, Phradmon, Gorgias, Lacon, Myron, Scopas, and Parelius, 
 some of whom, doubtless, were fellow-workers with Phidias in 
 the adornment of the temples of Minerva and Theseus. The 
 chief builders were Ictinus and Callicrates, but the presiding 
 and controlling power of the whole was Phidias. His superior 
 genius as a sculptor, in addition to his knowledge of painting, 
 " gave a grandeur to his compositions, a grace to his groups, 
 and softness to flesh, and a flow to drapery, unknown to his 
 predecessors, the character of whose figures was stiff" rather 
 than digniified, their forms meagre and turgid, the folds of the 
 drapery parallel and poor, resembling geometrical lines, rather 
 than simple but ever-varying forms of nature, Minerva, who 
 before had been rendered elderly and harsh, was by him rendered 
 young and beautiful, yet severe ; and Jupiter, who by previous 
 sculptors had been rendered simply venerable, was by him ren- 
 dered sublime and awful as when, according to Homer, his nod 
 shook the poles, yet benignant and mild as when first he smiled 
 on his beloved daughter Venus." That is, Phidias did rightly 
 what his predecessors had done wi'ongly. The historic record 
 is brief, but it embodies a great idea, and all that is necessary 
 to illustrate the difference between true and false art. 
 
166 SCULPTUEE. 
 
 Phidias not only determined the forms of these divinities, 
 from which no sculptor or painter afterwards presumed to 
 deviate, but the countenance, figures, and attributes of all the 
 other divinities of Homer were settled by him and his suc- 
 cessors, whose laws became immutable, and were willingly sub- 
 mitted to both by artists and people. 
 
 It is to be noted in this connection that the character of the 
 father of the gods being determined settled the scale of grada- 
 tion for his progeny, those near him being rendered more sub- 
 lime, those more removed less perfect, and, further, that a 
 strong family resemblance is preserved between Jupiter and 
 his progeny. This is particularly observable in the Apollo, 
 Bacchus, and Mercury. It is also to be remarked, that in the 
 Greek system corporeal excellence attends upon divinity, and as 
 the character recedes from this the form partakes more of the 
 animal. Satyrs, the lowest order in the train of Bacchus, bear 
 strong resemblances to different quadrupeds ; the figure and 
 face partake of the ape, the ram, and the goat. 
 
 There are, doubtless, other features in the Greek system that 
 it would be interesting to notice, but the above will suffice to 
 show the solid basis upon which it was founded ; in everything 
 which the Greeks attempted in art they acted in accordance 
 with natural and general laws, and therein lies the secret of the 
 universal and enduring admiration that has been bestowed upon 
 all their productions. How they were enabled so successfully 
 to apply those laws and reach the perfection they attained in 
 sculpture is a question the solution of which is to be sought 
 for and found "in the forms of their mythology, consisting of 
 gods bearing the forms of men and women, without any other 
 attributes than those possessed by human beings, yet greater 
 and more beautiful than mortals." 
 
 " Other idolatrous nations have distinguished their gods from 
 men by a thousand vulgar expedients, — the Egjq^tians, by a 
 strange symbolism ; the Hindoos, by adding heads, limbs, and 
 arms without number ; and others by the size and precious 
 materials of which their images were made. But the pride 
 or vanity of the Greeks would not allow their gods any attri- 
 
SCULPTURE. 1G7 
 
 bates tliey did not themselves possess ; and consequently they 
 ever remained distinguished from mortals but b}' their great- 
 ness, their beauty, and their immortality. When, therefore, it 
 fell to the sculptor to portray them, he had only to concentrate 
 every human perfection and every human beauty until the 
 image was too perfect for a mortal and became a god." 
 
 Completeness, however, in their representations was not 
 reached at once ; but artist after artist advanced step by 
 step towards the great ideal, and added beauty to beauty 
 until the images became what we see them. 
 
 The rapid career of Phidias might seem to contradict this 
 progressive theory ; but it is to be borne in mind that at the 
 time of his appearance sculpture was not a new art any more 
 than was painting in Italy on the appearance of Da Yinci, 
 Michael Angelo, Raphael, Titian, and Correggio, nor was the 
 perfection reached in Greek sculpture greater or more imme- 
 diate than that exhibited in Italian art. There doubtless had 
 been many prior fruitless attempts by the Greeks to portray 
 the father of the gods, as there had been by the Italians to por- 
 tray the Madonna and the prophets ; but no one previous to 
 the coming of Phidias, Da Yinci, Michael Angelo, and Raphael, 
 had been found fully to grasp the great conception. Nor would 
 they have succeded but for the vain attempts made by those 
 great though inferior artists who preceded them. Phidias, Da 
 Yinci, Michael Angelo, and Raphael were the product of all pre- 
 vious efforts, as they were in greater or less degree the authors 
 of all subsequent success. And there is nothing peculiar in 
 this ; it has characterized the advance of every art and every 
 science since the creation of man. 
 
 " The first object of the Grecian sculj^tors was to represent 
 perfectly the human form. This they attained with a degree of 
 perfection that even now astonishes us ; nothing more perfect 
 than the anatomical development of the figures of the Par- 
 thenon can well be conceived of, for not only every joint and 
 every muscle is perfectly imitated, but their motions and actions 
 are indicated so distinctly that we can almost predicate what the 
 next position would be, were it suddenly endued with life." 
 
168 SCULPTURE. 
 
 " This, however, was not with the Greeks the end of art, but 
 subordinate to a second and more important one, namely, to 
 rejliie the human form into that of a god," not by copying ex- 
 actly any single individual, however perfect, as the product 
 would have been a mere mortal, but by gathering into one 
 congenial mass scattered beauties of the human race, and thus 
 producing forms superior to any one original, and constituting, 
 as already stated, according to their ideas, something divine. It 
 is true that according to our ideas they failed. But we must 
 judge them by their own light ; and even if we deny the divin- 
 ity of their figures, we must admit that in the attempt they pro- 
 duced the noblest corporeal representations of mortals the world 
 has yet seen ; for the Apollo Belvedere and the Venus de Medici 
 still stand without a rival in modern art. Their greatest and 
 perhaps only want is the highest class of expression. 
 
 But the Greeks possessed another class of beings, scarcely less 
 beautiful than the gods themselves, whose acts and figures it was 
 the peculiar province of the sculptor to embody, — "all those 
 God-like, God-descended heroes over whom their earliest bards 
 had spread their veil of poetry, and thus separated them from 
 the ordinary race of men." 
 
 And still another class, which claimed to a great extent the 
 attention of the Greek sculptors, and which deserves a brief no- 
 tice in this connection, were the gorgons, the hydras, the harpies, 
 the minotaurs, and centaurs, perfect absurdities in themselves, 
 and blots on pure art; "but the elegance with which they are 
 executed, the idea they express, and the animation and power 
 with which the sculptor has endowed them, has sufficed to 
 redeem what otherwise would be revolting." 
 
 It is not our intention, however, to give an entire catalogue 
 of Greek conceptions, nor would our limits permit us, even if 
 we were so inclined ; for " the whole universe was filled by that 
 imaginative people with congenial beings described by poets, 
 substantiated by philosophers, and represented with the glow 
 of life by sculptors and painters." 
 
 It is well known to the student of art history that many of 
 the very best productions have perished, and all we know of 
 
SCULPTURE. 169 
 
 tlicm is derived from coins; and that most of those which 
 now excite our admiration and wonder are at best but copies, 
 much mutihited when discovered, and but imperfectly restored 
 by the moderns. 
 
 It is true we have descriptions by ancient liistorians of the 
 lost statues ; but no written description can convey an adequate 
 idea of a work of art like that of the Jupiter Olymj^us or Mi- 
 nerva Athene, especially where the impression made upon the 
 spectator arises in a great degree from magnitude and color, as 
 was the case, doubtless, with the above-named statues. Still, 
 many have to rely upon the historian and the draughtsman for 
 much of their knowledge of the great works of art, at least until 
 they can see the works themselves; and therefore, necessarily 
 availing ourselves of this mode of instruction, we will now 
 briefly pass in review such of the great works of the Greek 
 sculptors as have been seen and described by the contemporary 
 historian, or have been providentially preserved in greater or 
 less perfection to the present period ; and we will commence 
 our remarks with a description by Pausanias of what is gener- 
 ally considered the greatest production in this department of 
 the art. 
 
 THE JUPITER OLYMPUS. 
 
 The height of this statue was sixty feet. It was not of 
 marble or bronze, but of ivory, enriched with golden ornaments 
 and precious stones. The father of the gods is represented 
 seated on his throne, his left hand holding a sceptre, his right 
 hand a Victory of ivory and gold, with a crown and fillet, 
 his head crowned with olive, and his pallium or mantle deco- 
 rated with birds, beasts, and flowers. At the four corners of 
 the throne were dancing Victorys, each supported by a sphinx 
 tearing a Theban youth. At the back of the throne, above his 
 head, were on one side the three hours or seasons, and on the 
 other the three graces. 
 
 On the bar between the legs of the throne and the panels 
 and spaces between the panels were represented many stories, 
 — "The Destruction of Niobe's Children," "The Labors of 
 
170 SCULPTUKE. 
 
 Hercules," " The Delivery of Prometheus," " The Garden of the 
 Hesperides," with different adventures of the heroic ages. On 
 the base was the battle of Theseus with the Amazons ; on the 
 pedestal an assembly of the gods, the sun and moon in their 
 cars, and the birth of Venus. 
 
 This great work of Phidias, which raised his fame above that 
 of all the sculptors of antiquity, has numerous imitations still 
 existing in marble and bronze, and on coins of Alexander the 
 Great and his successors; also on Domitian's medals in large 
 brass. 
 
 MINERVA ATHENE. 
 
 Within the Parthenon stood the far-famed statue of Minerva, 
 also by Phidias. It was, like the Jupiter, of ivory and gold, and 
 thirty-nine feet in height. In her right hand Avas a Victory six 
 feet high ; the left hand rested on a shield. The goddess was 
 clothed in a tunic reaching to her feet : her helmet was adorned 
 with horses and griffins ; on the round side of the shield was 
 the fight with the Amazons ; on the concave side, the battle of 
 the gods and giants ; on her sandals, the contest of the lapithse 
 and centaurs ; on the base was the birth of Pandora in the pres- 
 ence of thirty divinities. Memorials of this statue are preserved 
 on Athenian coins, of which there are engravings in the vignettes 
 of Stuart's " Athens." 
 
 These two statues, — the Juj^iter Olympus and the ]\Iinerva 
 Athene, — although generally considered the greatest works of 
 the best age of the arts, were not the most beautiful, for su- 
 periority in that respect attaches to the Apollo Belvedere and 
 Venus de Medici. The drapery forbade it in the Minerva ; 
 the apparent age of the father of the gods rendered it impos- 
 sible in the Jupiter. In the latter the Homeric divinity was per- 
 sonified with a beauty of majesty beyond which human intel- 
 lect did not extend ; the former, the type of Divine wisdom 
 both to the philosopher and the common votarj^, manifested 
 the attractions of 3'outh united to the expression of severe 
 virtue. 
 
 Several other statues of gi-eat excellence are mentioned among 
 
SCULPTURE. 171 
 
 the works of Phidias, particular!}' a Venus phiced in the forum 
 of Octavia; two Minervas, one named Callimorphas from the 
 beauty of her form. Another statue by him was an Amazon 
 called Euknemin from her beautiful leg. 
 
 BELLEROPHOX ABOUT TO MOUNT PEGASUS. 
 
 This group, which stands opposite the Papal palace, on Monte 
 Cavallo at Rome, is thought to be the work also of Phidias, from 
 its resemblance in the attitude of the hero, as well as that of the 
 horse, to a bas-relief on the Parthenon. The name of Phidias is 
 inscribed on the pedestal. 
 
 THE SCULPTURES OF THE PARTHENON. 
 
 The two pediments of the temple of Minerva were each eighty 
 feet long, filled with compositions of entire groups and statues 
 fi'om eight to nine feet high. The subject of the western pedi- 
 ment related to the birth of Minerva, or, rather, her introduction 
 to the gods. The eastern pediment had the contention of Nep- 
 tune and Minerva for the patronage of Athens. 
 
 Forty-three metopes on the frieze had combats of the lapithse 
 and centaurs, and a frieze of three hundred and eighty feet 
 round the wall of the temple under the portico was decorated 
 with the procession of the Grecian States in honor of Minerva, 
 in chariots and on horseback, leading animals for sacrifice, bear- 
 ing off'erings, and presenting the sacred veil in presence of gods 
 sitting upon thrones to witness the solemn ceremony. 
 
 It is not to be supposed that many of these were the immedi- 
 ate work of Phidias : but it is certain that the whole was done 
 under his direction, and to him we probably owe the composi- 
 tion, style, and character of the sculj)ture, in addition to much 
 assistance in drawing, modelling, choice of the nude and dra- 
 peries, as well as occasional execution of the parts in marble. 
 The so-called Elgin marbles once made a portion of the sculp- 
 tures of the Parthenon. They were purchased of Lord Elgin, 
 at great cost, by the British government, and placed in the 
 British Museum, London. The Marquis Nantuel had a drawing 
 
172 SCULPTURE. 
 
 made of the western pediment of the Parthenon when all the 
 statues but one were in their places, and the whole was suffi- 
 ciently entire for the composition to be perfectly understood. 
 
 THE COLOSSUS OF THE SUN. 
 
 This statue is allowed by Phny the elder to have excited 
 more astonishment than all the other colossal statues he has 
 mentioned on account of its height, which was one hundred 
 and five feet, — exceeding by forty-five feet the Jupiter of 
 Phidias, and by thirty feet any known Egyptian statue. It 
 Avas the work of Chares, a Lindian, the disciple of Lysippus. 
 The statue was thrown down by an earthquake, after standing 
 fifty-six years. Twelve years were employed in the execution 
 of it, at a cost of three hundred talents (about three hundred 
 thousand dollars). It was at the mouth, or entrance, of a har- 
 bor in the island of Rhodes. 
 
 APOLLO BELVEDERE. 
 
 This well-known statue took its name from the so-called gar- 
 den in Rome in which it was first placed by Cardinal Rovera, 
 afterwards Julius II. Shortly after it was discovered — towards 
 the end of the fifteenth century — the hands were supplied 
 by a pupil of Michael Angelo. The sculptor intended to repre- 
 sent in this statue the God of Day at the moment he had rid 
 the earth of the monster Python, the monstrous serpent sent, 
 as the legend has it, to ravage the plains of Phocis after the 
 deluge of Deucalion. The fatal arrow has flown, and the frame 
 of Apollo yet trembles with the high-strained exertion, the 
 hand which held the bow is yet at its full extent, the fore- 
 head is illuminated with the exultation of success. Hints are 
 not wantmg in ancient monuments and authors which lead us 
 to believe that the archetype of this statue was by Phidias. 
 Maximus Tyrius describes a statue by Phidias very similar 
 to this, but more in motion. Others believe it to be the Apollo 
 of Calamis, mentioned both by Pliny and Pausanias. Only one 
 small antique repetition of this statue has been found. 
 
SCULPTURE. 173 
 
 VENUS DE MEDICI. 
 
 The sculptor has represented her on the shore of the island 
 of Cytherea at the moment of rising from the sea. The dolpliin 
 and shell point out her origin. The two boys, Eros and Ro- 
 meros, are not of the troops of Cupids, of which Venus is con- 
 sidered the mother, but the deities of Love and Desire, who 
 presided over her birth, and afterwards attended her steps. 
 The style of sculpture seems to have been later than Alexander 
 the Great, and the idea of this statue appears to have its origin 
 from the Venus of Cnidus. It is not known with certainty when 
 it was discovered ; but it is said to have been found in the forum 
 of Octavia. So much a fjworite was this statue with the Greeks 
 and Romans, that nearly a hundred repetitions of it have been 
 noticed by travellers. It is supposed to have been the work of 
 Cleomenes, the Athenian, the son of Apollodorus, and was for 
 some years previous to 1680 in the garden of the ]\Iedici, when 
 it was transfeiTed to Florence. Plato distinguishes the celestial 
 from the earthly Venns, and Pliny mentions a statue by Phidias 
 of Venus Urania, or the Heavenly Venus. The Venus de Medici 
 was of the earthly class. 
 
 JUXO. 
 
 The statue of the Queen of Heaven has a sublime beauty 
 about it ; but still it is not remarkable for beaut}^, as com- 
 pared with the Venus de Medici and the Venus of Cnidos, and 
 some other of the Greek sculptures. It was in a very imperfect 
 condition when discovered. The head does not belong to it, 
 and the arms, are a modern restoration. The author of it is 
 not authenticated. It is now in the Museum of the Capitol. 
 Height, nine feet six inches. 
 
 CUPID AND PSYCHE. 
 
 This group is an allegoric representation of the Soul tor- 
 mented by Love. It is finely conceived, but poorly executed. 
 It is a copy from the work of some great sculptor. The origi- 
 
174 SCULPTURE. 
 
 nal probably was not executed before the reign of Augustus, 
 when the Pythagorean philosophy was revived, from which the 
 subject was taken. Height, three feet four inches. 
 
 HERMAPHRODITUS. 
 
 An attempt was made in this figure to represent an utter 
 impossibility, namely, the union in one body of the two sexes. 
 It is artfully managed, however, and as far as the flow of line 
 and the purity, delicacy, and elegance of the form are con- 
 cerned, is one of the best works of antiquity. As Pliny mentions 
 a composition similar to this by Polycletiis, the j)i'esent sculp- 
 ture was probably by that master. In heathen mythology Her- 
 maphroditus is called the offspring of Mercury and Venus, and 
 the name is a compound of two Greek words : Hermes, Mercury, 
 and Aphrodita, Venus. Length, four feet eleven and a half 
 inches. 
 
 CERES ELEUSINE. 
 
 The Attic Ceres, the goddess of agi'iculture, and the Egyptian 
 Isis were the same divinities. This is a very pleasing figure. 
 The head is said to bear a strong resemblance to Julia, the 
 daughter of Augustus. If so, it must have been comparatively 
 a late production, or the head is not that of the original statue. 
 Height, five feet six inches. 
 
 FLORA. 
 
 This fine statue was found in the ruins of Adrian's villa, at 
 Tivoli, in 1741. Height, five feet six inches. 
 
 FAUN REPOSING. 
 
 Pans and satyrs, fauns and bacchantes, were the attendants 
 of Bacchus. The first two had the figures of beautiful youths 
 with pointed ears ; the last two have the lower limbs of the 
 goat. The more aged were denominated Silenuses. The repos- 
 ing faun was supposed to be the famous one of Praxiteles in the 
 Museum of the Capitol. Height, four feet four inches. 
 
SCULPTURE. 
 
 LAOCOOlSr. 
 
 Laocoon, a priest of Apollo and the son of Antenor, having 
 urged the Trojans to destroy the wooden horse, Minerva, in 
 revenge, caused two serpents to emerge from the sea and 
 destroy him and his two sons as they were about to perform 
 a sacrifice. Laocoon is represented seated ujDon an altar. The 
 mild, melancholy, imploring looks of the father, the anguish of 
 one of the sons and the despair of the other, are represented 
 with surpassing skill. It was once suj^posed to have been 
 WTought fi'om a single block ; but it is a combination of six 
 different pieces. It was the work of Agesander, Polydorus, and 
 Athenodorus, of Rhodes, in the reign of Alexander. Found in 
 the baths of Titus in 1506. Purchased by Julius II. and placed 
 in the Vatican. Height, six feet six inches. 
 
 THE DYING CxLADIATOR. 
 
 The sculptured figure that has usually jmssed under that 
 name, in which might be seen how much of life remained, 
 and which has been rendered doubly interesting by the noble 
 lines of Byron, is, according to Winckelmann, a dying herald 
 or hero ; if so, the lines lose the largest portion of their 
 interest, for it arose from the apparent truthfulness of the 
 description ; and that Winckelmann's judgment is well founded 
 is rendered probable from the fact that the gladiatorial show was 
 a purely Ptoman institution, and nothing of the kind would have 
 been for a moment tolerated by, nor would an artist have dared 
 to exhibit such a subject to, the refined and polished people 
 of Greece. If, however, it be the representation of a Dying 
 Gladiator, it must have been executed after Greece was reduced 
 to a Pioman province, and consequently belongs to a very late 
 period of the art, and truthfulness of delineation must be its 
 only redeeming quality, for such a subject must to a reflective 
 and sensitive mind be very offensive. 
 
176 SCULPTURE. 
 
 AEIADjSTE. 
 
 This reclining figure has sometimes passed for Cleopatra, but 
 it doubtless is a representation of Ariadne on the morning she 
 was abandoned by her faithless lover on the island of Naxos, 
 and before she awoke " to catch the last sad glance of the sail 
 that bore away her Theseus." There is great beauty in the 
 folds and adaptation of the drapery of this reclining statue. 
 Length, six feet eleven inches ; height, four feet nine inches. 
 
 LYCIAN OE YOUIs^G APOLLO. 
 
 This beautiful statue took its name from the Greek word 
 Liiche, light. It is in repose (not reclining), — a position 
 generally chosen by the old Greek sculptors, who usually 
 avoided all violent action for fear of giving too much prom- 
 inence to the muscles by contraction. The Greek sculptors 
 posterior to Alexander copied the earlier attitudes and charac- 
 ters, thinking if they could render the forms more noble and 
 pure, they should excel their predecessors. Height, seven feet. 
 
 DISCOBULUS m REPOSE. 
 
 Throwing the quoit was one of the five gymnastic exercises 
 of the Olympian games. This is a copy of the statue of the 
 name executed by Naucydes, and is universally admired for its 
 form and momentary balance. It is in the Museum of Paris, 
 France. Height, five feet seven inches. 
 
 DISCOBULUS m ACTION. 
 
 This figure is finely rendered in every part, but its attitude is 
 forced, and consequently mmatvu'al, — a condition not often met 
 with in the older works of Greece. It is ascertained from an 
 antique gem to have been the production of Myron, and this is 
 still further confirmed by the description of Quintilian. It 
 is now in the Museum of the Vatican. An ancient copy of 
 this figure is in the British Museum. Height, five feet ten 
 inches. 
 
SCULPTURE. 177 
 
 VENUS OF CNIDUS AND VENUS OF COS. 
 
 The former of these statues was m existence in Cnidus durini^ 
 the reign of the Emperor Arcadius, about four hundred years 
 after Christ. It is now known only from description, and from 
 a representation on a medal of Caracalla and Plautilla in the 
 imperial cabinet of France. The two were by Praxiteles, who 
 excelled in the highest graces of youth and beauty, and whose 
 fame is as great now as it was when it was the ftishion to 
 encounter the perils of the ocean to see the famous statue of 
 Venus in the island of Cnidus. The historian relates that the 
 sculptor having made tw^o statues of Venus, one without, the 
 other with drapery, the Coans preferred the clothed figure on 
 account of its severe modesty, the same price being set upon 
 each. The citizens of Cnidus took the rejected figure, and 
 afterwards refused it to King Nicomedes, who would have for- 
 given them an immense debt in return ; but they were resolved 
 to suffer anything rather than part w^ith this statue. The 
 temple in which it was placed was entirely open, because ever}-^ 
 view was equally admirable. It is this statue which is said to 
 have been the prototype, or, rather, to have suggested the first 
 idea of the Venus de Medici ; or it may be the repetition of 
 another Venus, also the work of this artist, mentioned by 
 Pliny. On the reverse of the Empress Lucilla's medals is a 
 clothed Venus, w^ith an apple in her right hand, which, from the 
 grace of the attitude, and its resemblance to several antique 
 marble statues, is likely to be the clothed Venus chosen by the 
 Coans. 
 
 DORYPHORUS ; OR, THE LANCE-BEARER. 
 
 This statue was called the rule by artists, and from it they 
 studied the forms, outline, and lineaments of the human figure. 
 It was by Polycletus of Sicyon, the scholar of Agelades, who 
 was also celebrated for his Diadumenus, or youth binding a 
 fillet round his head^ which was valued at one hundred talents, 
 or one hundred thousand dollars. 
 12 
 
178 SCULPTURE. 
 
 HERCULES AND TELAPHUS. 
 
 This statue probably was intended to be a representation of 
 Hercules and Ajax, the infant son of Telamon, inasmuch as 
 Hercules is reported to have been present at the birth of Ajax, 
 and to have raised him in his arms towards the skies and com- 
 mended him to Jupiter, and, to render him invulnerable, wrapped 
 him in the skin of the Numean lion. The head of Hercules is 
 very fine, but the child is a modern interpolation. 
 
 HEAD OF JUPITER. 
 
 The mask of this fragment alone is antique, and was dis- 
 covered towards the close of the seventeenth century. It is 
 in the Museum of the Vatican. Height, one foot one and a 
 half inches. 
 
 VENUS OF THE CAPITOL. 
 
 This statue, like that of the Venus de Medici, was imitated 
 from, or rather the idea of it was suggested by, the Venus of 
 Cnidus. It is by some confidently pronounced to be a copy 
 from one of the three Venuses enumerated by Pliny among the 
 works of Praxiteles. Although it is more dignified, it is a less 
 insinuating beauty than the Venus de Medici. It is in the 
 Museum of the Capitol, Rome. 
 
 VENUS APHRODITA. 
 
 This statue was very celebrated. It was by Alcamenes, but 
 the last touches were given to it by Phidias. 
 
 NIOBE. 
 
 The gi'oup of Niobe and her children, by Scopas, is an example 
 of heroic beauty in maturer age. The sentiment intended to be 
 portraj^ed is maternal affection. Niobe exposes her own life to 
 shield her children from threatened destruction by the thunder 
 bolts of Jupiter. The statues of the children all partake of 
 
scuLriuRE. 179 
 
 the same heroic beaut}', mixed with the passions of appre- 
 hension, dismay, or death. 
 
 SACRIFICATOR. 
 
 The drapery of this figure is wonderfully fine, but the head 
 does not belong to the statue. 
 
 RICHELIEU BACCHUS. 
 
 Apollo and Bacchus were the two statues in which both poets 
 and sculptors sought to unite all the beauties of the human 
 form. The latter combined the utmost earthly perfection and 
 symmetry; the Apollo, in addition, something of the divine. 
 The Bacchus has more softness ; the Apollo, more energy. Rich 
 curls, falling in profusion about the neck and shoulders, charac- 
 terize the head of this son of Jove. The statue w^as in a greatly 
 impaired condition when discovered. 
 
 The hands, the lower part of the arms, the right leg, and 
 a portion of the left foot, are restorations. It is now in the Gal- 
 lery of the Louvi'C. Height, six feet four inches. 
 
 THE HUNTING DIANA. 
 
 This figure of Diana is more active and light than either that 
 of Juno, or Minerva, or any other of the goddesses. Its chief 
 characteristic is elasticity, and its form appears most approin'i- 
 ately and admirably adapted, like that of Mercury, the mes- 
 senger of the gods, for quickness of movement. It has been in 
 France since the reign of Henry IV., and for a long time in the 
 Galleiy of Versailles. Height, six feet six and a half inches. 
 
 CUPID BENDING HIS BOW. 
 
 This is a copy of a statue by Praxiteles. The original was 
 presented by the courtesan Phryne to her native city, Thes- 
 pia. Height, four feet one inch. 
 
180 SCULPTURE, 
 
 THE MUSES. 
 
 The nine muses, by Philiscus of Rhodes, — Calliope, Clio, 
 Erato, Euterpe, Melpomene, Polyhymnia, Terpsichore, Thalia, 
 and Urania, — daughters of Jupiter and Mnemosyne, are men- 
 tioned by Pliny, as are also the muses brought by Fulvius No- 
 bilior to Rome. It is not known to -^hich of these series those 
 in the pope's Museum belong. There may have been a portion 
 from each series. Of these, Melpomene is remarkable for gran- 
 deur, Thalia for the beauty of early youth and modesty, Euterpe 
 for regal grace, and Calliope and C'lio for Doric simplicity and 
 mental occupation in bodily rest. 
 
 THE BARBERINI FAUN. 
 
 This statue is remarkable for the elastic foi-m of muscle 
 and tendon proper to the mountainous and sylvan habits of 
 the race. 
 
 DIANA DISCHAEGING AN ARROW. 
 
 This beautiful and interesting statue has long been the prop- 
 erty of the French government. It has been considered by 
 some learned judges to resemble the Apollo Belvedere in coun- 
 tenance and general character to a degree that may warrant an 
 opinion that they are both the production of one sculptor. 
 
 MENANDER AND POSIDIPPUS. 
 
 These two statues are the portraits of the comic poets of 
 those names. They were originally in the theatre of Athens. 
 
 HERCULES FARNESE. 
 
 This well-known statue was evidently one of the first favorites 
 of antiquity, from its frequent repetitions on bronze and marble, 
 on gems and on coins. It is worthy of remark, that some statues 
 of Hercules, in the same attitude of repose with that surnamed 
 
SCULPTUEE. 181 
 
 Faniese, but of much earlier date, have tlie proportions of com- 
 luon men, and that a series of them may be found in the va- 
 rious collections, gradually increasing to the ten'ific strength of 
 Glj'con's statue. The head of this formidable hero bears a 
 resemblance to his father Jupiter. The anatomical detail in 
 the body and limbs is more distinct than in any other work of 
 antiquity. 
 
 THE GRACES. 
 
 The above is the name applied to a group of three figures in 
 ancient sculpture, representing three youthful sisters embracing 
 one another. The Greek and Latin names of these goddesses, 
 Charites and Gratise, which signify the exercise of kind affec- 
 tions or the charities of life, are well represented in this group. 
 The character and action of these goddesses have given the 
 epithet "graceful" to eas}^ undulating motion. They w^ere 
 always clothed until after the time of Socrates. 
 
 THE BOXERS. 
 
 This group, and the statue called the Fighting Gladiator, 
 but in reality the Lesser Ajax, exhibit the greatest muscular 
 display in violent action; although not pleasing subjects to 
 contemplate, yet an anatomical consideration of these figures 
 will teach us the cause of each particular form, and convince us 
 how rationally and justly the ancients copied nature. 
 
 SOPHOCLES AND DEMOSTHENES. 
 
 These two noble statues — the one of the greatest dramatic 
 poet, the other of the greatest orator of Greece — have ever been 
 ranked among the very finest efforts of human genius ; and had 
 nothing else descended to us from that polished people, we 
 could not have hesitated for a moment to believe that human 
 power had reached its culminating point in the grandest and 
 most difficult of the elef>:ant arts. 
 
182 SCULPTURE. 
 
 The above includes only a small portion of the gTeat produc- 
 tions of the ancient Greeks in this department of the art. 
 When Ave see it stated by the historian that three thousand 
 statues were once carried off from Rhodes alone by the phm- 
 dering Romans, it is very evident that the catalogue might be 
 enlarged to an almost indefinite extent. With the revolutions 
 of empire and the changes that are constantly occurring 
 on the earth's surface most of them have been hidden from 
 human vision ; but, like a great many seeming evils, this was 
 permitted for an ultimate benefit. Their apparent destruction 
 was their sure preservation. They were bm-ied that they might 
 rise again. Fresh excavations are constantly revealing some 
 lost form, not only to excite anew our admiration of Grecian 
 superiority, but likewise to refine and improve the taste of the 
 ages that should come after. 
 
 None, however, of the more recent discoveries exhibit any 
 principle of art not before revealed in the great productions 
 so long known to the public. Those principles, like the laws of 
 nature, are few and simple. Many or most of them have to 
 some extent been considered in the com^se of these essays, and 
 especially in that relating to natural and ideal beauty; the 
 reader is referred to what is there advanced upon this subject. 
 Ever bearing in mind what the ancient sculptors aimed at, he 
 will better comprehend what they accomplished. 
 
ESSAY XII. 
 
 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 IF it be, as the proverb has it, that " Necessity is the mother 
 of Iiiveution," then, as shelter is the first necessity of man, 
 of the Fine Arts that make their appeal to the mind through 
 the eye and the ear, architecture may reasonably be supposed 
 to have been the " first-born " ; sculpture, the second ; painting, 
 the third ; music, the fourth ; and poetry the last. But, 
 although architecture may have been the eldest of the Fine 
 Arts, yet certain it is, that, as no edifice could have attained the 
 beauty of proportion and richness of ornament without the aid 
 of sculpture, and as the practice of these necessarily involves 
 a knowledge of drawing, the interval between the invention of 
 architecture, painting, and sculpture must have been very brief, 
 barely sufficient to settle the question of birthright. To what 
 period in the history of man we may date back their origin, no 
 one has yet been able to discover ; but as the i^lmighty at crea- 
 tion implanted in the human bosom a love of the beautiful, and 
 human nature has been always the same, and all the Fine Arts 
 equally appeal to that sentiment, man must soon after his 
 birth have found out a way to gratify those feelings by inven- 
 ti ons that have always been to him a source of enjoyment and 
 improvement. They all may be enjoyed, to a certain extent, by 
 the most uncultivated taste ; but they all require a knowledge 
 of their system, and a mind informed of the principles on Avhich 
 they depend for beauty for their highest appreciation. 
 
 As we read in the books, the term " architect " is derived 
 fi'om the Greek name of its professor, Architecton, chief builder. 
 So that when architecture is spoken of without a qualifying 
 adjective, the designing and building of edifices, such as pal- 
 
184 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 aces, mansions, theatres, churches, courts, bridges, etc., is in- 
 tended ] and it is called civil, to distinguish it from naval and 
 military architecture, the former of which concerns the structure 
 of ships, the latter the building of fortifications and the like. 
 
 Although every description of building may have the term 
 applied to it, it is by common consent restricted to such edifices 
 as display symmetrical arrangement in the general design, and 
 fitting proportions in its parts, with a certain degree of orna- 
 ment, varying in character and quantity with the character of 
 the building, or the uses to which it is to be approj^riated. 
 
 Notwithstanding the art of building originated with the ne- 
 cessities of man, there is no reason to believe that the disposi- 
 tions of architecture, as above defined, were first employed for 
 domestic purposes. For the science of architecture we are un- 
 doubtedly indebted to man's devotional feelings and tendencies. 
 What we understand by the term can be alone deduced from the 
 mode he adopted in arranging and constructing edifices for 
 worship. It certainly is in the temples of pagan nations that 
 we find the most complete illustration of all those principles of 
 beauty that characterize this department of the Fine Arts. We 
 call them the fine arts, although we might with greater pro- 
 priety have said the useful arts, — for, although it is usual to 
 make two classes of art, and to characterize one as the fine, the. 
 other as the useful, yet it is a distinction, in one aspect of the 
 matter, without a diiference, as that which administers to the 
 gratification of the taste can hardly be regarded as less useful 
 and necessar}^ than that which administers to the wants of the 
 body ; an appetite or desire in the one case and the other 
 were implanted in the human constitution, and both equally 
 require gratification and nourishment. 
 
 ,In no way is man so much imposed upon as by names, and 
 the characterization now referred to has been the means of 
 retarding, to an incalculable degree, the encouragement, and con- 
 sequently the j^rogress, of art. 
 
 There can be no possible objection to the prefix " fine " as 
 implying a superior degree of delicacy and elegance ; the evil 
 results from its being employed in contradistinction to " useful,'' 
 
GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 185 
 
 a term that in the connection is regarded as the synonyme of 
 beneficial, necessary, something imperatively and specially 
 demanded by the necessities of man's physical existence, while 
 the former term with the mass of mankind implies, if not 
 something snperfluons, yet not absolutely necessary for the 
 full oijoyment of life, — which is so far from being true, that man 
 cannot attain to his full stature and ultimate refinement without 
 the civilizing influence of the Fine Arts. 
 
 " Iiigenuas didicisse fideliter artes 
 Emollit mores, nee sinit esse feros," 
 
 is as true now, as when first uttered, two thousand years ago, 
 by the graceful and elegant Horace. 
 
 In the view that we are now to take of architecture, as that 
 of Egypt takes precedence, chronologically considered, of all 
 known forms, and to that ancient country the world is indebted 
 for the elements of all those arts and sciences a knowledge 
 of which constitutes the essential difterence between a civilized 
 and a savage state, it might seem hardly decorous to pass it by 
 in silence ; and yet, as Egj^ptiau architecture is comparatively 
 of little value at the present day as an object of imitation, 
 notwithstanding the impressive grandeur of its style as ex- 
 hibited in the colossal dimensions of some of their ancient 
 temples, — a style well suited by its massive proportions to 
 typif}' the greatness, as by its solidity the immutability, and 
 by its continuity of outline and repetition of parts to illustrate 
 the eternity, of their Deity, thus constituting their temple the 
 embodiment of their religion, — we will proceed without further 
 preface to the consideration of architecture as it existed in a 
 country " where ideal art first took a s^'stematic form, and 
 established principles thenceforth to be recognized wherever 
 civilization should plant itself," — principles that can never be 
 changed by time, nor rendered obsolete by fashion, — principles, 
 the full appreciation of which must always be regarded in any one 
 as a test of correct and matured taste in this department of art. 
 
 As gathered from' the historic record, the progi-ess of im- 
 provement in Grecian architecture occupied a period of three 
 
186 GEECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 centuries, from the age of Solon and Pythagoras, about six 
 hundred years before Christ, when the temples of Jupiter at 
 Olympia and at Ephesus were begun, to the time when, 
 under the administration of Pericles, the ornamental style of 
 Grecian architecture attained its utmost beauty and perfection 
 in the temple of Minerva in the Acropolis of Athens, — built 
 after the model of that of Jupiter at Olympia, — and finally 
 concluding this first period with the completion of the temjDle 
 of Diana at Ephesus, in the time of Alexander, two hundred 
 and twenty years from its commencement. 
 
 All the great examples of Grecian architecture of which we 
 shall have occasion to speak in this essay are included under 
 three orders, — the Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian, so named after 
 the places where they originated, or, rather, where they are 
 said to have originated, as there exists some uncertainty in 
 this respect. Tlie above, with the two orders subsequently 
 added by the Romans, the Tuscan and Composite, constitute 
 what is called classic, as distinguished from the Gothic and all 
 other architectures. 
 
 The term "order," in classic architecture, is employed to 
 designate an entire column or pillar, with the entablature. 
 The column being that portion which supports, and the entab- 
 lature the superstructure which lies directly upon it. 
 
 The column is divided into three parts : the base, the shaft, 
 and the capital ; the base being the lower part of it, the 
 capital the head, and the intermediate portion the shaft. 
 
 The entablature is also divided into three parts : the archi- 
 trave, the portion immediately above the columns, lying horizon- 
 tally upon and uniting them ; the frieze, the central space ; and 
 the cornice, the upper projecting mouldings, forming the cap of 
 the entablature. 
 
 These unitedly constitute an order in architecture, so that 
 when it is said of a building that it is of this or that order, the 
 meaning is that the columns and entablature which go to make 
 a portion of the structure are, as the case may be, either Doric, 
 Ionic, or Corinthian. 
 
 Although each order is distinguished from the others by 
 
[TJiriTBRSITr] 
 
UPPER FACIA. =-' ----- 
 
 LOWER FACIA. 
 
 ABACUS."! 
 
 CYMA RECTA. 
 
 TUSCAN ORDER. 
 
GKECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 187 
 
 characteristics peculiarly its own, and each dictates a style of 
 finish and proportic^ns for the building peculiar to itself, yet the 
 term " order," in classic architecture, regards only ihc2^o)Hico, and 
 does not necessarily include the pediment, — that triangular por- 
 tion of the front which is above the entablatm-e, and formed 
 by the slope of the two parts of the roof, — as some temples are 
 complete without a roof. 
 
 The parts of which an order is composed are divided into 
 those which are essential and those which are suhordinate, or 
 subservient. The essential are those already described as con- 
 stituting the column and entablature. The subordinate are the 
 moiddiugs and details into which those parts are divided. 
 These mouldings are eight in number in regard to form, but less 
 or more in regard to appropriation, and thus named : reglet, or 
 listel, torus, astragal, ovolo, cavetto, talon, cyma recta, cyma 
 reversa, or ogee, fillet, scotia, cymatium, or bandelet, and 
 corona. 
 
 The reglet is a small flat moulding, forming the upper portion 
 of the cornice. The listel is the same, but called listel when 
 forming the upper moulding of a capital, an architrave, or 
 volute. The torus is a large semicircular moulding, like the 
 semi-diameter of a rope. The astragal is a small torus,- like a 
 bead. The ovolo is an exact quarter round convex moulding. 
 The cavetto is a quarter round concave moulding. The 
 cyma recta is a cavetto and ovolo united. The cyma reversa 
 is an ovolo and cavetto united. The ovolo forming the 
 lower portion of the cyma recta, but the upper portion of the 
 cyma reversa, making the well-known moulding called ogee. The 
 talon is a quarter round convex moulding. The fillet is a small 
 list-like moulding. The scotia is a hollow moulding. The 
 cymatium, or bandelet, is a square-sided or plain moulding, 
 forming the upper member of the architrave. The corona is the 
 projecting face of the cornice. As it is impossible by any 
 WTitten description to convey any correct idea of these mould- 
 ings, and the place they fill in the ornamental part of archi- 
 tecture is so important, the reader is refeiTed to the drawings 
 of the several orders amon^j: the illustrations. 
 
188 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 The mouldings have appointed places indicated or determined 
 by their character. Thus, the cyma and cavetto, being of 
 weak contour, are only used for the covering of other parts, 
 while the ovolo and talon, from their peculiar form, seem in- 
 tended to support other important mouldings or members. 
 The torus and astragal, bearing a resemblance to a rope, appear 
 calculated to bind and fortify the parts to which they are 
 applied ; the use of the fillet and scotia is to separate one 
 moulding from another, and give variety to the general form. 
 
 The ovolo and talon are mostly placed above the level of the 
 eye; when placed below, they are applied only as crowning 
 members. The place of the scotia is below the level of the 
 eye. 
 
 When the fillet is very wide, and used under the cyma of the 
 cornice, it is called a corona ; if under a corona, it is called a 
 band. Of the two geometrical figures, the circle and ellipse, 
 the Greeks preferred the latter, or some other conic sections, 
 for the profile of their mouldings. 
 
 There are other subordinate portions of a column and entabla- 
 ture than those now described, the consideration of which more 
 properly comes within the description next to be given of the 
 several orders ; and, first, of 
 
 THE DORIC ORDER. 
 
 Of the three orders of architecture among the Greeks, the 
 Doric is the oldest and simplest. The shaft of the column has 
 twenty flutings, which are separated by a sharp edge, and not 
 by a vertical fillet, as in the other orders, and they are less than 
 a semicircle in depth. The capital consists of only two parts ; 
 the upper section is a square flat tile, called, as that section is 
 in all orders, the abacus. Beneath the abacus is the mould- 
 ing, called ovolo, under that a few small fillets, and about the 
 width of the ovolo below it, encircling the column, is a deep- 
 cut channel. This order in Grecian architecture has no 
 base ; and its column is about six and a half diameters in 
 height. 
 
GRECIAN AKCIIITECTUIIE. 189 
 
 In this order that portion of the entablature called the archi- 
 trave is surmounted with a plain fillet, called the tenia. 
 
 The frieze, the section next to the architrave, is ornamented 
 by flat projections, with three channels cut in each, called 
 triglyphs. The spaces between the triglyphs are called metopes, 
 and in the best exami)les are always sculptured in low relief. 
 Under the triglyphs, and below the tenia of the architrave, are 
 placed small drops, or gutta^. Along the top of the frieze runs 
 a broad fillet, called the capital of the trigiy^^hs. The soffit, or 
 under part of the cornice (the section of the entablature above 
 the frieze), has broad and shallow blocks worked on it, called 
 mutules, one of which is placed over each metope and each 
 triglyj^h ; on the under surface are several rows of guttse, or 
 drops. 
 
 In the Eoman Doric, the shaft is usually seven diameters 
 in height, and generally has a base, sometimes the Attic, and 
 sometimes that which is peculiar to the order, consisting of a 
 plinth (the square lower division), a torus, and an astragal 
 above it. The capital has a small moulding round the toj) of 
 the abacus, and the ovolo is in section a quarter circle, and is not 
 quirked or turned over on top, as in the Greek Doric. Under 
 the ovolo are two or three small fillets, and below them a 
 colorino, or neck, and not the deep-cut channel, as in the first- 
 named order. According to the Roman method, the triglyphs 
 at the angles or corners of the building are placed over the cen- 
 tre of the column, and at a distance from the angles ; in the 
 Grecian method, they are brought well up to the corner. In 
 the former method the metopes are an exact square ; some- 
 times the mutules are omitted, and a row of dentils is worked 
 under the cornice. 
 
 THE lOXIC OEDER. 
 
 The most distinguishing feature of this order is the capital, 
 which is ornamented with four spiral projections, called volutes. 
 In the Greek examples they are aiTanged to exhibit a flat fixce, 
 on two sides of the capital ; in the Roman, they spring out of 
 
190 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 the mouldings under the angles or corners of the abacus, so as 
 to render the four faces of the capital uniform, the sides of the 
 abacus being worked holloiv like the Corinthian. The principal 
 moulding is an ovolo, and is almost invariably carved ; sometimes 
 other enrichments are introduced upon the capital, and some- 
 times there is a colorino, or neck, below the ovolo, ornamented 
 with leaves and flowers. 
 
 The shaft of the column in this order varies from about eight 
 and 'a quarter to nine and a half diameters in height; it is 
 sometimes plain, and sometimes fluted with twenty-four flutings, 
 separated from each other by small fillets. 
 
 The bases used in this order are principally varieties of the 
 Attic. Sometimes the base consists of two scotise (hollow 
 mouldings), separated by small fillets and beads, above which is 
 a large and prominent torus (a large round moulding), com- 
 monly used in this part of the column. 
 
 The members of the entablature in the Ionic order are 
 sometimes perfectly plain, and sometimes ornamented richly, 
 especially the bed mouldings of the cornice, which are frequently 
 cut with a row of dentils, or small square blocks. 
 
 THE CORmXHIAN OEDER. 
 
 The lightest and most ornamental of the three orders is the 
 Corinthian. As of the Ionic, so of the Corinthian, the capital is 
 the great distinction. 
 
 The entire column, including the base, half a diameter in 
 height, and the capital, a whole or more than a diameter, 
 measures about ten diameters, and is always fluted. 
 
 The capital consists of a cluster of small mouldings at the 
 bottom, an astragal, fillet, and apophyges ; then, above that, a 
 bell and horned abacus. The bell is set round with two rows 
 of leaves, eight in each row, and a third row of leaves supports 
 eight small open volutes, four of which are under the four horns 
 or corners of the abacus, and the other four are under the 
 centra] recessed part of the abacus, and have over them a 
 flower and other ornament. These volutes spring out of small 
 
GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 191 
 
 twisted husks, placed between the leaves of the second row, 
 which are called caulicoles. The abacus consists of an ovolo, 
 fillet, and cavctto, like the modern Ionic. 
 
 The base belonging to this order resembles the Attic, with two 
 scotia), or hollow mouldings between the tori (large round 
 mouldings), separated by two astragals (small round mouldings). 
 
 The entablature of the Corinthian order is frequently very 
 highly enriched; the flat surface, as well as the mouldings, 
 being sculptured with a gi'eat variety of very delicate ornaments. 
 The architrave is generally formed into two or three faces or 
 faciie. In the Ionic there is but one flat, unbroken face ; the 
 frieze in the best examples is flat. In the Doric it is divided into 
 triglyphs and metopes ; the frieze is also sometimes united to 
 the upper filht of the architrave by an apophyge, or small cur- 
 vature at the top. The cornice has both modillions (brackets) 
 and dentils (small blocks). 
 
 Of the three orders of Grecian architecture, the Doric is the 
 gravest that has been received into civil use. When the three 
 orders are employed in the same structm-e, and in different 
 stories, its rank is the lowest (next to the foundation), as being 
 more massive than the others, and consequently more able to 
 support. Eoland Friart, a noted French architect and author 
 of the first part of the seventeenth centurj-, quaintly says of it, 
 " He is best known by his place w^ien he is in company, and by 
 the peculiar ornament of his frieze when alone." 
 
 " The Ionic order," continues Friart, " represents a kind of 
 feminine slenderness, not like a light housewife, but in decent 
 dressing hath much of the matron. He is best known by his 
 trimmings, for the body of this column is always channelled like 
 a plaited gown ; the capital dressed on each side, not much un- 
 like woman's hair, in a spiral wreathing, which they call Ionian 
 volute, the com ice indented, and the frieze sometimes swelling 
 like a pillow. These are his best characteristics." 
 
 " The Corinthian," he further says, " is a column lasciviously 
 decked like a courtesan, and therefore much participating of 
 the place where it was first born, — Corinth being without 
 controversy the wantonest place in the world. The frieze is 
 
192 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 adorned with all sorts of figures and various compartments at 
 pleasure. His place is one degree above the Ionic, which, in the 
 course of the arrangement, stands directly above the Doric. The 
 capital is cut into the most beautiful leaf that nature doth 
 yield, the acanthus. As the principal characteristic of the Doric 
 is solidity, his are delicacy and variety." 
 
 Columns sometimes rest on a kind of second base called a 
 pedestal. A pedestal, however, is not necessarily an appendage 
 to an order, any more than is a ]3ediment. 
 
 Like a column, it has three parts, the plinth, the die, and the 
 cornice, — the plinth being the lower part, and corresponding to 
 the base ; the die, the middle portion, and corresponding to the 
 shaft ; and the cornice, the upper portion, corresponding to the 
 capital of a column. 
 
 Everything in Greek architecture was regulated by a law or 
 canon. We have already stated that there were certain fixed 
 proportions between the height of a column and its diameter. 
 There was also a certain fixed proportion between the several 
 parts of a column, — so much of the entire column being allotted 
 to the base, so much to the shaft, and so much to the capital. 
 These proportions, it is true, varied in the different orders, but 
 w^ere always the same in the same order. 
 
 There was also a certain fixed proportion between the height 
 of the column and the height of the entablature ; the latter, 
 as a general thing, being one fourth of the height of the former. 
 And then again, in all orders except the Doric, the entablature 
 being divided into ten parts, three are given to the architrave, 
 three to the frieze, and four to the cornice. In the Doric, the 
 whole height of the entablature being divided into eight parts, 
 two only were given to the architrave, three to the frieze, and 
 three to the cornice. 
 
 There were also certain predetermined proportions for a 
 pedestal, the entire height being one third of that of the 
 column ; this is divided into nine parts, six of which are given to 
 the die or shaft, two to the base, and one to the cornice, and so 
 on with the several parts of the entire edifice. There was no 
 hap-hazard about anything the Greeks did in any of the Fine 
 
DORIC ORDER. 
 
 IONIC ORDER. 
 
or THl 
 
 ;fIVBRSITT] 
 
 IPO 
 
 ^^ 
 
CORINTHIAN ORDER. 
 
 COMPOSITE ORDER. 
 
' at TH» -^ 
 
GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 193 
 
 Arts. They had a hiw by which they worked witli the precision 
 of a straight hue, and that was the line of truth. 
 
 Some might be (hsposed to call this conventional ; but it is 
 to be remembered that the law by which their architects worked 
 was not an arbitraiy one, did not precede the requirement, but 
 was deduced from certain facts of harmony. 
 
 The Greeks from repeated experiments found that the bring- 
 ing together of certain proportional forms and arranging them 
 in certain relative positions gave pleasure to the eye and the 
 mind, and hence concluded that they were the right forms in 
 the right places, and that they could not be added to, or the 
 reverse, without producing imeasiness in the eye and the mind ; 
 and thus they established a canon of taste and beauty, the 
 observance of which led to favorable and the same results. 
 
 Having thus described, and, as we trust, rendered intelligible, 
 the several orders of architecture, our next endeavor will be to 
 give some correct idea of the forms of Grecian temples, show 
 the fitness of some for special purposes, and illustrate the 
 several orders by examples. 
 
 The forms of Greek temples generally were oblong, and con- 
 sisted of a body or cell, with a portico at one or both ends sup- 
 porting a pediment. Often they were entirely surrounded by a 
 colonnade, sometimes by a double one ; occasionally they were 
 circular, and of this class there were only two kinds, — the mo- 
 nopteral, which was merely an open cell of columns, supporting 
 an entablature or roof; and the pereptcral, which had a circular 
 cell surrounded by a colonnade. 
 
 Of the oblong temples there were several varieties, the sim- 
 plest of which was called in antis. 
 
 This consisted of a plain cell, the side walls of which projected 
 at the front end of the building, and were terminated with flat 
 columns, or pilasters, in the opening between which were two 
 columns supporting an entablature and pediment. 
 
 The prost3'los temple had a portico of four columns standing 
 in front. The amphiprostylos had a portico of this last kind 
 at each end. 
 
 13 
 
194 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 The perepteral temple had a portico of six columns at each 
 end, and a colonnade of eleven columns on each side detached, 
 the columns at each angle being included in both computations. 
 
 The pseudo-perepteral was like the perepteral, but having 
 the breadth of the cell increased, so that the side walls became 
 incorporated with the columns of the lateral colonnades. 
 
 The dipteral had porticos of eight columns on the fronts or 
 ends, and a double colonnade at the sides, the outer one con- 
 sisting of sixteen columns, counting those at each angle. 
 
 The pseudo-dipteral was precisely the same as the dipteral, 
 with the inner range of columns omitted throughout. 
 
 Some large temples had their roofs left open at the top, and 
 when so constructed were called hypeetral. 
 
 Temples were also classified according to the number of col- 
 umns in the front porticos. The tetrastyle had four columns ; 
 the hexastyle six ; the octostyle eight ; the decastyle ten. 
 
 The width of the spaces between the columns varied ; and the 
 porticos were designated, according to the greater or less dis- 
 tance, serostyle, diastyle, eustyle, systyle, and pyreiostyle. 
 
 TEMPLES OF THE DOEIC ORDER. 
 
 Of the three orders of architecture, the national was the Doric. 
 This was never used for domestic purposes, but was appro- 
 priated for the temples of the gods and some of their acces- 
 sories. 
 
 The structures not of a religious character are either Ionic or 
 Corinthian, or a union of these wuth some of the features of the 
 Doric ; and in all Greece and the Grecian colonies, except Ionia, 
 there are very few examples of a religious character that are not 
 of the Doric order, and none which are of the Corinthian. 
 
 The probable cause of this appropriation of the Doric to re- 
 ligious purposes was its extreme simplicity, — simplicity being 
 the element of grandeur ; as the appropriation of the Corinthian 
 and the Ionic to less grave purposes derived a fitness from pre- 
 senting a greater variety of forms, — variety being the element 
 of beauty, not of grandeur. 
 
GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. ^ 195 
 
 The forms of the Doric temple were neither various nor com- 
 plex. The fact is that the architecture of this temple was 
 only a frame or groundwork for the display of the higher arts 
 of sculpture and painting ; the introduction, therefore, of any 
 novelty that might attract attention or interfere with the pre- 
 eminence they wished to assign to the more important arts was 
 carefully avoided. It was in consequence of this feeling that 
 the plan of almost all their Doric temples may be said to be the 
 same, with only such variations as were requisite in consequence 
 of increased size. 
 
 The smallest was that of a cell (the body of the temple), 
 with a small porch, as already described, of two pillars in antis, 
 between two small piers, at the termination of the walls of the 
 cell. 
 
 The second form consisted of a duplication of this very simple 
 one by placing two such temples back to back. 
 
 The third was formed by surrounding this by a peristyle 
 or colonnade which contained six columns at each end and twice 
 the number on the sides, the columns (as was always the case) 
 at the angles or corners being included in both, making unitedly 
 only thirty-two columns. 
 
 The fourth form of the Doric temple was the octostyle, of 
 which only two examples are known, one being the Parthenon 
 at Athens. 
 
 There are, besides these, two or three exceptional temples of 
 this order, such as the famous one of Ceres at Eleusis, and of 
 Jupiter at Agi'igentum. 
 
 As little variety of invention as there is displayed in the form 
 of the Doric temple, still less was there in the order itself, w'hich 
 remained nearly the same from the time of its first introduction 
 till the latest period, the only change being a gradual attenua- 
 tion of proportion and increase of height, so regular as to form 
 an almost certain indication of the age of the building. " In 
 the Parthenon, however, we have an example where the exact 
 and perfect proportion seems to have been attained between 
 constructive stability (as in Egyptian architecture) and aesthetic 
 elegance ; and as every detail there is executed with the utmost 
 
196 . GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 mathematical precision, and all the curves are almost perfectly 
 drawn conic sections of the highest order, the building by gen- 
 eral consent combines more technic and aesthetic merit than any 
 other of its size in existence." 
 
 " Perfect, however, as the Doric order is, as an architectural 
 mode of expression, this is not its principal aim or gi'eatest 
 merit ; and, to judge of it fairly, it must be considered in refer- 
 ence to its capabilities of displaying and giving effect to the 
 painting and sculpture which were its invariable accompani- 
 ments, and formed a most essential part of the order in its 
 integrity. 
 
 " In every Doric temple the two pediments were occupied by 
 two groups of sculpture, which really were its two most impor- 
 tant external features : and, besides this, the happy division 
 of the frieze into square metopes, by the introduction of tri- 
 glyphs, enabled the artist to group the figures (in bas-relief on 
 each metope) into any number of separate pictures without 
 forcing him to continue his subject all around the temple, or 
 to invent some one convenient mode of separating one group or 
 subject from another, while the external wall of the cell, as at 
 Athens, or the internal one, as at Phigalia, enabled him to 
 introduce any length of continuous sculpture that might be 
 thought necessary. 
 
 " Single statues were provided for in the cell, so that there 
 was no mode of sculpture that did not find a place where it was 
 felt to be wanted for the completion of the design. At the same 
 time all the mouldings of the order were so simple in form and 
 outline that they required painting for their relief; and they 
 must have been such as were best suited to display the elegance 
 of STich polychromatic decorations to advantage." The painting 
 of the mouldings by the Greeks has sometimes been doubted. 
 But it is now generall}'- conceded that they painted not only 
 their mouldings, but also a portion of the frieze, and always the 
 background of their bas-reliefs ; and, if the temple was of any 
 coarser material than marble, it was plastered over and entirely 
 colored. If of marble, with the exceptions mentioned above, it 
 was left white. The frieze of the Parthenon was painted. 
 
GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 197 
 
 The painting of marble does not agree with our ideas of a cor- 
 rect taste. The Greeks, however, admired the effect ; and as we 
 cannot judge of it from actual observation ourselves, and they 
 exhibited such good taste in everything else connected with art, 
 it is safe, we think, to let them decide for us, and abide by their 
 verdict. 
 
 "As portrayed in our books, and imitated, or, rather, not 
 imitated, by our architects, the Doric order is cold and meaning- 
 less ; but used as the Greeks used it, it is the greatest triumph 
 material art has ever achieved." The reader hardly needs to be 
 told that the finest specimen of this order is the Parthenon, or 
 temple of Minerva, the virgin patroness of the city of Athens. 
 
 There were other temples in Greece, with a reputation 
 approaching that of the Parthenon, as that at Delphi, and also 
 that at Tegise. These, however, have entirely perished, and 
 of the great one at Oh^mpia only the foundation can be traced ; 
 but the Parthenon remains, and with as brilliant a reputation 
 now as it had in the days of its founders ; shorn of some of its 
 beauties, it is true, but still the finest specimen of architecture 
 the world has yet witnessed. 
 
 A temple so renowned requires more than a passing notice. 
 We will, therefore, present to the reader the best description we 
 can find of it, gathered from the works of President Felton of 
 Harvard University, and other reliable w^riters. 
 
 It stands with two other buildings, the one called the 
 Propylaeum, the other the Erectheum, on the lofty rock of the 
 Acropolis, the upper town or citadel of the ancient city of 
 Athens. It was built by Ictinus and Callicrates, mider the 
 superintendence of Phidias, in the reign of Pericles, about 
 2,250 years ago, or the latter part of the fifth century before 
 Christ. 
 
 The Parthenon was an octostyle temple, that is, one having 
 eight columns on each end, and sixteen on each side, and called 
 a peristyle ; it was built of Pentelic marble ; it stands on a 
 base approached by three steps, each twenty-one inches high, 
 and about twenty-four inches wide. Its breadth, on the upper 
 step, is one hundred and one feet ; its length, two hundred and 
 
198 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 twenty-eight feet; its height, from the upper step of the sty- 
 lobate, or what we call steps, is fifty-nine feet. 
 
 The length of the sekos, or body of the building, is one 
 hundred and ninety-three feet ; and its breadth, seventy-one 
 feet, not including fractions ; the space between the peristyle 
 and the wall is nine feet on the sides, and eleven on the fronts 
 or two ends. 
 
 The interior is divided by a transverse wall into two unequal 
 portions : the eastern being the naios proper, an apartment for 
 the statue of Minerva, ninety feet in length, the western portion 
 being commonly used as the treasury of the city, forty-three 
 feet long. 
 
 Within the naios was a range of ten Doric columns on each 
 side, and three on the west end, forming three sides of a 
 quadrangle ; above them an architrave suj)ported an upper 
 range of columns, forming a kind of gallery. Fourteen feet 
 distant from the western columns is the pavement of Peiriac 
 stone, on which the great chryselephantine statue of Athene 
 was. placed, thirty-eight feet in height. Besides the internal 
 decorations, the outside of the temple was ornamented with 
 three classes of sculpture. 
 
 1, The sculpture of the pediments were independent statues 
 resting on the deep cornice. The subject of those on the east- 
 ern pediment was the birth of Athene ; of those on the western, 
 the contest between Poseidon and Athene for the possession of 
 Attica. 2. The groups on the metopes, ninety-two in number, 
 represented combats of Hercules and Theseus, of the centaurs 
 and amazons, and perhaps some figures of the Persian war. 
 These groups were executed in high-relief. 3. The frieze round 
 the upper border of the cella of the Parthenon contained an 
 exhibition of the Panathenaic procession. All these sculptures 
 were in the highest style of the art, executed either by Phidias 
 himself or under his immediate direction. Most of these were 
 in place in 167G, and drawings of the figures on the pediments 
 were made by a French artist in 1674. The interior of the 
 temple was thrown down in 1787, by the explosion of a bomb 
 in a Turkish powder-magazine. The front columns of the 
 
GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 199 
 
 peristyle escaped ; but eight of the columns on the north side, 
 and six of those on the south, were overthrown. Moresini, in 
 endeavoring to remove some of the figures on the pediments, 
 broke them, and otherwise did gi-eat injury. At the beginnino- 
 of the present century Lord Elgin dismantled a considerable 
 part of the Parthenon of the remaining sculptures, which form 
 the most precious treasures of the British Museum at the present 
 moment. " The i)athetic beauty of the decoy of the Parthenon," 
 says Felton, from whose admirable lectures the foregoing reliable 
 description is taken, " is indescribable. The impression it 
 makes is that of a solemn and wondrous harmony. Its aspect 
 is simple, but scientific investigation has not yet exhausted its 
 beauties and refinements." 
 
 " The investigations of scientific men," continues President 
 Felton, "reveal these facts in regard to the structure of the 
 Parthenon, namely, that the lines, which in ordinary architecture 
 are straight, in the Doric temples at Athens are delicate curves. 
 The edges of the steps and the lines of the entablatures are 
 convex curves, lyiug in vertical planes, and nearly parallel ; and 
 the curves are conic sections, the middle of the stylobate rising- 
 several inches above the extremities. The external lines of the 
 columns are curved also, forming a hj-perbolic entasis. The 
 axes of the columns incline inwards, so that opposite pairs, if 
 produced sufficiently far, would meet. The spaces of the inter- 
 columniations and the size of the capitals and columns vary 
 slightly according to their position. From the usual point of 
 view these variations and curves are not perceptible; but they 
 produce by the combination the effect of perfect harmony and 
 regularity." 
 
 TEMPLES UF THE lOXIC ORDER. 
 
 In Ionic temples there is more variety in the plan than in 
 that of the Doric form, and almost always more of rcsthetic 
 beauty. The temple of Theseus, situated on a knoll between 
 the Acropolis and the Perseus, about twenty miles from Athens, 
 was a complete embodiment of the Ionic order. 
 
200 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURK 
 
 A more unique and yet as beautiful example of this order 
 in Greece is the temple of Minerva Polias, as an English author, 
 Mr. Ferguson, calls it ; or, as it is called by President Felton, 
 the Erectheum. Like the Parthenon, it was situated on the 
 Acropolis of Athens. The form of this singular structure was 
 oblong, with a portico of six Ionic columns at the east end, 
 a kind of transept at the west, a portico of four columns on the 
 north, and a portico of caryatides standing on a basement eight 
 feet high on the south. At the western end there is a base- 
 ment on which there are four Ionic columns only half detached 
 from the wall, and supporting a pediment. 
 
 The great temple at Tegise was of the Ionic order, and also 
 that at Ephesus, which, according to Pausanias, surpassed any 
 temple which the Greeks ever erected there or anywhere else. 
 
 The extreme length of the Parthenon was only two hundred 
 and twenty-eight feet ; that of the temple of Ephesus four hun- 
 dred and twenty-five. The breadth of the Parthenon was one 
 hundred and twenty-one feet ; of the temple of Ephesus two 
 hundred and twenty, with one hundred and twenty-seven col- 
 umns, each sixty feet high ; whereas the Parthenon counted 
 only forty-six columns in all, thirty-five feet high. So that the 
 capacity of the former was four times as great as that of the 
 latter, — a magnitude that a temple of the Doric order could 
 not be extended to without appearing huge, or, if not so, at 
 least very unfit for the exhibition of sculpture and painting. 
 
 TEMPLES OF THE CORINTHIAN ORDER. 
 
 Of the three orders used by the Greeks, the Corinthian is 
 thought to be the most original. Their claim to have invented 
 also the Doric and Ionic is not so well founded, as pillars very 
 much like the Doric are said now to exist in Middle Egypt 
 and Nubia, cut out of rock, long before they were used by 
 the Greeks ; among the ruins at Persepolis there are columns 
 with Ionic features ; at Roustan an architrave with a dental 
 cornice very similar to the Ionic ; and at Pasargarda^ a base 
 almost identical with that of the Ionic pillars at Samos. So 
 
GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 201 
 
 that whatever merit attaches to having invented the two first of 
 the Grecian orders it belongs not to the natives of that favored 
 country ; and although she has but one child (the Corinthian) 
 left her whose parentage is undisputed, it is an offspring of 
 which she may well be proud, and it is fortunate that the 
 three progenies unite in such perfect harmony. 
 
 The Greeks, it is said, invented the Corinthian order at a 
 time when, owing to the decline of pure art, they were no 
 longer capable of executing the Doric, with its sculpture and 
 painting, and when they were tired of the Ionic ; and, if we dis- 
 pense with sculpture and painting, there is no doubt this is the 
 most beautiful and elegant of the Grecian orders. 
 
 One of the most beautiful specimens of this order is the 
 monument, as it is called, of Lysecrates at Athens ; another 
 is that of the temple of Jupiter towards Mount Hymettus, and 
 still others at Athens, — all differing most essentially from one 
 another, but all disj^laying that elegcUice and taste which the 
 Greeks threw into everything they did. 
 
 " The Corinthian order, as used by the Greeks, was a mere 
 decoration, and never considered worthy to be employed on 
 temples or buildings of the highest importance ; and never on 
 any building in all Greece was it displayed in such proportions 
 or designed with such care as would justify a comparison with 
 the gi'eat national Doric or Ionic order of that age. The Co- 
 rinthian order in itself is probably a more beautiful one than 
 the Doric ; and, if executed with equal purity and taste, a Co- 
 rinthian portico or temple is a more perfect and elegant work 
 than a Doric, provided neither of them have sculjDture or paint- 
 ing to aid in their general effect. But no one could for a mo- 
 ment hesitate between the tw^o in their completeness, and that 
 the portico of the Parthenon, as finished in the age of Pericles, 
 was in every respect infinitely superior to any Corinthian portico 
 ever erected in ancient days, or can even now be conceived of 
 by the most exuberant imagination. But the merit of supreme 
 excellence, as compared with every other work in this depart- 
 ment, attaches not simply to the jDortico, but to the entire 
 building, as the world has ever acknowledged." And thus, leav- 
 
202 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 ing it as a point that admits of no discussion, let us next briefly 
 consider the causes whence arise the impressions of grandeur, 
 elegance, and beauty made upon the eye and the mind when view- 
 ing the noble monuments of ancient Grecian art. But, that we 
 may the more readily reach and better comprehend these causes, 
 it becomes necessary not only to bear in mind that, while other 
 nations practised architecture apart from the other arts, the 
 Greeks, in their Doric temples, made a union of the three, but 
 also to notice certain peculiarities connected with their history 
 and affecting the practice of them; and the first and most 
 striking of these was the general contempt of size, as a mode of 
 expression, by which to impress the beholder. 
 
 Their largest temples were the Parthenon and the temple 
 of Jupiter at Olympia. These, however, were very small com- 
 pared with those at Ephesus and Agi-igentum, but they were 
 sufficiently large for the effect required to save them from 
 insignificance, placed as the Greeks always placed them on 
 the highest spot available, so that their situation alone gave 
 them an elevation which the building had not in itself; and it 
 must not be forgotten that they were only surrounded by low, 
 flat-roofed, one-storied dwellings, so that the same buildings 
 which would be low and mean in a modern city were lofty and 
 imposing in ancient Greece. 
 
 The second peculiarity to be noticed is the little invention 
 showed by the Greeks in the form of their temples. " In itself, 
 no form can be more commonplace or less artistic than that of 
 a rectangle twice the length of its width. They adopted it, 
 however, in spite of its inherent frigidity and want of expression, 
 because an unbroken colonnade will always appear very much 
 larger than one in which the continuity is interrupted, and 
 any break or variety would have required a very considerable 
 extension to have insured the same apparent size ; and at the 
 same time the frequent columns, and consequent intercolumnia- 
 tions, were calculated to give the greatest apparent height with 
 the least possible dimensions, and thus accomplished what was 
 wanted without the vulgarity of immense masses, and without 
 taking their sculpture and painting too far from the eye, or con- 
 
GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 203 
 
 trasting it with such masses as would have made it look diminu- 
 tive unless executed on a scale that would have been not only 
 inconvenient, but in some cases almost impossible." 
 
 This want, or rather absence, of invention further exhibits 
 itself in the immutability of their architecture ; for, if we 
 observe it during the period of its greatest activity, we find 
 that " all that was effected during three centuries, from the time 
 of Cypselus to that of Alexander the Great, — if the invention 
 of the Corinthian order does not fall within that period, — was 
 to elongate slightly a column (the Doric) borrowed from the 
 Egyptians, and generally to improve the form of the mouldings, 
 so as to make them nearly perfect mathematical forms, instead 
 of others traced merely by the eye, and to improve the mason- 
 work and construction to a considerable extent." We state this 
 merely as a fact, not as evidence of deficiency. The Greeks 
 were satisfied with the general form of the members invented 
 in the infancy of the art because they had truth for their basis, — 
 truth that required only a little more refinement in the mode 
 of expressing it to render it complete. Their fancy was always 
 controlled by their judgment. 
 
 There can be no doubt whatever that " in the power of in- 
 vention and variety Greek architecture fulls below the Gothic, 
 in boldness of effect it must yield to the Egyptian ; aesthetically, 
 however, it has merits they cannot boast of, and the combined 
 impression of elegance, dignity, beauty, and gTandeur it conveys 
 has never been equalled by anything that has yet been done in 
 this dejDartment of art." 
 
 To investigate philosophically all the sources of such impres- 
 sions would require a space much larger than coidd be afforded 
 in a work of this description. Yet we cannot omit mentioning 
 a few of the most obvious ; and first and foremost among these 
 is the extreme simplicity of the general form and an'angement 
 of the subject, — a simplicity that characterizes Egyptian 
 equall}' with Grecian architecture, and is the principal element 
 of grandeur in both. Both styles are characterized by lines 
 straight and uninterrupted throughout the whole length. 
 " They are the lines which bound the simplest of all forms, the 
 
204 GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 parallelogram and the pyramid. Where the general form has 
 no continuous commanding outline there is always a deficiency 
 of grandeur." This is exemplified in Roman as compared with 
 Grecian architecture, — the principal element of the former being 
 variety. There is a sound philosophical reason for this, with 
 which the Greeks doubtless were acquainted. They knew that 
 certain influences attach to certain lines, as to certain tones 
 in music and certain colors in painting ; that straight lines excite 
 the eye and the mind less than the varied ; and hence the 
 prevalence of simple and straight lines in structures for reli- 
 gious and devotional purposes, where the sentiment intended 
 to be created is that of gravity, solemnity, and repose, — the 
 same idea that governed them, as before stated, in their sculp- 
 tures. 
 
 '' The sculptures on the pediment and frieze of the Parthenon 
 did not interrupt the simplicity of the general form. In fact, 
 they w^ere absolutely required to relieve the structure from 
 monotony and baldness, and thus added to its beauty without 
 impairing its dignity and grandeur. Had the Parthenon been of 
 any other order than the Doric, it would have been ruined by 
 what in that case would have been carrying to excess the 
 variety which properly characterizes the Corinthian and Com- 
 posite orders." 
 
 The second source of the impression made by Grecian archi- 
 tecture that we shall briefly notice is the just proportion of the 
 whole to the parts and of the parts to the whole, — the several 
 portions being so adjusted as to magnitude that one should not 
 appear to overpower the other. It has been remarked of the 
 portico of the London University that it is of itself of un- 
 equalled magnificence and beauty, and of the cupola behind it 
 that it is of elegant form, yet that the latter is much too large 
 for the former, and seems to crush it, — which would not be the 
 case were they proportioned to each other. 
 
 A third source is the wondrous concord that exists between 
 one part of Grecian architecture and another, all co-operating 
 and combining to express the same idea, unity amid variety, 
 the product of which is harmony, — a harmony that has relation, 
 
GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. 205 
 
 not onfy to proportion and magnitude, but likewise to disposi- 
 tion and decoration. 
 
 Still another source of the favorable impression made by 
 Grecian architecture — not by architecture only, but likewise by 
 sculpture — is that furnished by C. C. Perkins, Esq., in his very 
 learned and deeply interesting w^ork on " Tuscan Art," namely, 
 '* the intimate relation of parts where," as he admirably ex- 
 presses it, *' each is the corollary and indispensable complement 
 of the other ; wdien, the key-note being given, everything is in 
 imison with it," — as, for example, in sculpture, " if the eyes are 
 broad and placid, the same character pervades the mouth, the 
 nose, the chin, and the forehead, influences the shape of the 
 skull and arrangement of the hair, and so throughout tlie entire 
 statue." 
 
 There are doubtless other causes than those now mentioned 
 for the impressions made on the mind and the eye of persons 
 of culture and taste when contemplating any of the great pro- 
 ductions of the ancient Greeks in this department of the Arts, 
 but we have not space for the consideration of them. Nor, 
 perhaps, is it necessary, writing, as we do, not for the practical 
 artist, but for the general student. We therefore here close 
 our discussion of this very interesting portion of our subject, 
 trusting that the brief view now^ presented will be of some 
 assistance in enabling one to discern, appreciate, and enjoy 
 whatever is worthy of admiration in the most wonderful form 
 of architecture yet invented by man. 
 
 
ESSAY XIII. 
 
 ROMAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 IT can hardly be necessary for us to state that between Roman 
 and Greek architecture there exists a wide difference, and 
 that difference stamps it generally as inferior. The Romans were 
 jDrompted to give up the Greek in its purity, not because they 
 discovered in it any defect, but chiefly to gratify a meretricious 
 taste. One great variation is "in the ornamentation or enrich- 
 ments, which in design and execution are bolder and more fre- 
 quent, and sometimes carried to a vicious extent. The long 
 uninterrupted entablature, which gave so much grandeur to 
 Greek architecture, is in many cases broken over the columns ; 
 the pediments, also, and consequently the roofs, are steeper. 
 The arch, too, w^hich was unknown to the Greeks, although not 
 original with the Romans, was brought into general use, and 
 greatly affected the character of their architecture. At first it 
 was subordinate to the column and entablature, but soon came 
 to be regarded as a more important principle, and was adopted as 
 a leading feature." The Romans claim to have added, as already 
 stated, two more orders to the three invented by the Greeks, — 
 the Tuscan and Composite. By the moderns, however, they 
 are not recognized other than as variations of the Doric and 
 Corinthian. 
 
 In the early stage of Greek architecture, the Doric column 
 was short, varying from four and a half to six and a half 
 diameters in height, but soon got extended to seven. The 
 Tuscan column has never been more or less than seven times 
 the diameter of the lower part of the shaft in height. The 
 entablature is. always simple, and without any enrichments, — so 
 plain, indeed, as to be repulsive, rather than attractive. The 
 
ROMAN xVRCHITECTURE. 207 
 
 capital has a square abacus, with small projecting fillets on the 
 upper edge; under the abacus is an ovolo and fillets, with a 
 neck below ; the base consists of a square plinth and a large 
 torus ; the shaft of the column is never fluted. The Greek Doric 
 is sometimes fluted, as in the columns of the Parthenon. 
 
 The Composite order is made up of the Ionic grafted upon 
 the Corinthian, and retains the same general character, with the 
 exception of the capital, in which the Ionic volutes and echini are 
 substituted for the Corinthian caulicoles and scrolls. Sir Roland 
 Friart, the early French author whose quaint descrij^tion of the 
 three Grecian orders we adopted, characterizes the Tuscan as " a 
 plain, massy rural pillar, resembling some sturdy, well-limbed 
 laborer, homely clad " ; and of the Composite order he says that 
 " his name is a brief of his nature, being nothing but a medley, 
 a mass of precedent ornaments, making a new kind by stealth ; 
 and though the most richly tricked, jet the poorest in this, 
 that he is a borrower of all his beauties. To know him will be 
 easy, by the very mixture of his ornaments and clothing." No 
 one can think our author too severe upon what has ever appeared 
 an unnecessary invention, if invention it can be called. It 
 is not easy to conceive that the same taste which coidd be 
 pleased with the Tuscan plainness — or, rather, baldness — 
 could also have admired the meretricious Composite. 
 
 The Romans were indebted to the Greeks, not only for their 
 pillars, but likewise for their porticos, the rectangular form of 
 some of their temples, and the circular form of others ; they 
 adopted the arch from the Dorians. 
 
 The Corinthian order was one of the first things that the 
 Romans borrowed from the Greeks ; and it w^as well suited to 
 their purposes. " Its richness well supplied what they wanted : 
 its pillars could be longer or shorter, as they pleased ; could be 
 placed at any convenient distance, having no triglyphs to hamper 
 them ; could be adapted to round as well as square buildings, 
 placed at angles or used in interiors with equal facility. The 
 plan, too, of the Corinthian, required little thought, and the 
 execution of the order still less. It had no spirals, like the 
 Gothic, — no sculpture, no paintings, like the Doric ; and soon 
 
208 EOMAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 became a favorite with the Romans." There are those who 
 think the Roman Corinthian an improvement on the Grecian ; 
 and the example of it, in the temple of Jupiter Status, has been 
 pronounced the most perfect thing in architecture which Rome 
 has produced. 
 
 Although the Doric order of the Greeks was not adapted to the 
 Romans they adopted it to a certain extent, but degraded it by 
 attenuation. Without their manipulation, however, it would 
 have amounted to very little ; for they had no painting and 
 no sculpture with which to adorn it. It was the frame without 
 the picture, the setting without the jewel. 
 
 The Ionic order they did not attempt till a very late period. 
 It never was an order either of the Dorians or the Etruscans ; 
 and there is no evidence that any specimen of it existed in Italy 
 anterior to Roman greatness. 
 
 The Romans, when boiTowing their orders from the Greeks, 
 adopted the peristyle form of their temples. There is not, 
 however, in Rome, a single instance of a peristyle temple. 
 Generally it is a mere cell, with an attached portico. Some- 
 times the portico is continued in three-quarter columns attached 
 to the side of the cell, and occasionally the colonnade is carried 
 round the sides ; but then the length of the side ranges is little 
 more than that of the front, and consequently the elegant pro- 
 portion of the Greek colonnade, gained by the contrasted length, 
 is lost. There is one temple in Rome that has been restored by 
 architects as a perfect peristyle, three hundred and sixty-two by 
 one hundred and seventy-se\''en feet ; but there is no reliance to 
 be placed on the truth of the restoration, as no single base of a 
 column has been found in place. 
 
 • Besides this very doubtful one, all the temples of Rome are 
 of insignificant dimensions, — that of Jupiter Status being only 
 one hundred and forty by ninety-two feet ; Jupiter Tonans, 
 eighty-five by sixty-seven ; Mars Ultor, one hundred and twelve 
 by one hundred and twenty ; and all the others much less than 
 these much-vaunted specimens. She was surpassed in this 
 respect by her provinces. In Syria, — which in the time of 
 the Csesars w\as to Rome what Ionia was to Greece, her 
 
ROMAN ARCHITECTURE. 209 
 
 richest and most architectural province, — there are found re- 
 mains of temples that throw those of the Capitol into the 
 shade. At Baalbec tliere are tlie remains of two peristyle 
 temples, that when complete, with their courts and accompani- 
 ments, must have been unmatched by anything in the Roman 
 world. 
 
 Of all the temples of the Romans, the Pantheon, if it was a 
 temple, is conceded to have been by far the most typical and 
 original, and as regards the interior unmatched in the ancient 
 world for invention. " There is a simplicity about its propor- 
 tions, the height being equal to the width, lighted by one 
 circular opening in the roof, which, joined to its large dimensions, 
 gave it a character of grandeur which redeems that clumsiness 
 in detail which would spoil a work less grand and simple in 
 conception." 
 
 The external form of the Pantheon is not beautiful. To 
 improve the original design, a portico beautiful in itself was 
 added ; but this, although Etruscan in arrangement, like the 
 building itself, being Greek in detail, is so incongruous that 
 it has destroyed any beauty that each possessed separately. In 
 fact, not one line or one detail in the portico agrees with an}^- 
 thing in the circular part of the temple ; but it is crushed by 
 its mass, while the crude mass of the circular part is brought 
 out and made obtrusive by the more ornate forms of tht 
 portico. 
 
 This w\as not the art of the Greeks. With them all was 
 symmetrical and harmonious. Both borrowed and united ; but 
 the difference between the two was this, that "the Greeks 
 selected congenial materials; the Romans frequently incongruous, 
 and never could conceal the joint." 
 
 Neither the religious nor the artistic feelings of the Romans 
 induced them to erect temples as magnificent as those of 
 Eg}'pt, or as beautiful as those of Greece ; and yet their capital 
 was adorned with buildings in their kind as wonderfid as any 
 the world has seen, and not less characteristic of the passions 
 and habits of the people ; and foremost among them stands the 
 Coliseum, — " the type of the Roman style, containing all its 
 14 
 
210 EOMAN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 beauties and all its defects. In size and splendor it is worthy 
 of the Roman Empire, and its purpose rendered it a favorite 
 and principal building in that great city in the days of its 
 glory ; and its ruins even now are as great as the Roman name 
 and Roman greatness, though few buildings are by competent 
 judges considered to be more tasteless in design or more faulty 
 in detail." 
 
 " Constructively the building consists of a series of Etruscan 
 arches enclosed in a network of Grecian pillars, with entabla- 
 tures utterly inappropriate and used merely as decorations, 
 and totally distinct from the construction. The external form 
 followed that of the arena, wdiich was by no means unfavor- 
 able to architectural effect; had the decorations, pillars, and 
 pilasters been omitted, and merely the bold arches risen tier 
 above tier, and the whole been crowned with a cornice pro- 
 portioned to the height of the whole edifice, it might have 
 been a far nobler building. Its materials have built half of 
 the palaces of Rome ; its principles are the foundation of the 
 modern school of Italian architecture, and half the palace 
 fagades of modern Italy are mere variations of the incongruous 
 architecture of its exterior." 
 
 What is most admired in all Roman buildings is the mass 
 and the constructive magnificence. In those which more 
 directly belong to architecture, it is not only stated, but by 
 competent judges conceded, that the eftect is oftener spoiled than 
 aided by the introduction of incongruous ornament, the jux- 
 taposition of inappropriate parts, and the junction of styles 
 directly opposed to each other, — the natural result of copying 
 and borrowing blindfold instead of inventing. In Greece we 
 contemplate a work of art with the unmitigated satisfaction we 
 derive from studying a work of nature. '' In Rome, however, 
 there is no one building of Roman invention, and no work of 
 sculpture even, save the statues of some of their great men (in 
 which little invention was demanded), on which we can dwell 
 with unqualified delight, in which some improvement cannot be 
 suggested ; in short, none the half of whose beauties are not 
 derived from the hallowing touch of time, and that halo which 
 
ROMAN ARCHITECTURE. 211 
 
 association has spread around what otherwise would not attract, 
 and might, porha2)S, often disgust." 
 
 All this is doubtless true, but still it is impossible to over- 
 rate the treasures there accumulated, for " hers was the vast 
 reservoir into which was poured all that belonged to preceding 
 nations, and the furnace in which all the amalgam of different 
 metals was melted, and Europe has since been fashioning to her 
 use. There is nothing in more ancient times which may not 
 be traced into Kome ; nothing in more modern times that may 
 not be traced out of her. She is the concluding scene of an 
 old, the opening one of modern civilization. She brought 
 together en masse all the arts of the ancient world ; and after 
 mixing them together, she delivered them to us to make what 
 use we could of them." How^ far, and in what way, succeeding 
 generations have been benefited by the legacy it does not fall 
 within our province to inquire ; our endeavor has been to illus- 
 trate the principles, not simply to furnish a history, of art. 
 
ESSAY XIY. 
 
 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 aOTHIC is the term employed to designate a class of archi- 
 tecture which flourished not only in England, but also in a 
 large portion of Northern Europe, from the latter part of the 
 twelfth century until the revival of the classic orders (the 
 Greek and Roman) in the sixteenth. 
 
 How the term came to be applied to a style of architecture 
 so beautiful in the mass, so delicate and graceful in all its 
 details, and so promotive of a truly religious feeling and senti- 
 ment, we are unable to discover. It is said to have been applied 
 at first by way of reproach by some bigoted admirer of the 
 classic orders ; but, in view of its inappropriateness, it is difficult 
 to conceive why the admirers of this style should have accepted 
 and continued to use it. 
 
 The origin of Gothic architecture has given rise to many very 
 ingenious speculations. There are those who maintain that the 
 st^de has been copied directly from nature ; that the pointed 
 arches and groins of the vaults were imitated from the over- 
 arching branches of trees, and that the stems, or trunks, of the 
 avenue were the originals of the pillars of the Gothic aisles. 
 Others have maintained that the invention of the pointed arch 
 was a mere accident, arising from this form having been observed 
 in the interlacing of the circular arches of the Norman arcade. 
 It has also been stated that the style was imported from the 
 East, and that the mediaeval architects had little to do with it. 
 
 More careful study, however, has dispelled these fanciful ideas, 
 and settled the origin and progress of Gothic architecture on 
 historical as well as on internal 8^'idence. 
 
 To trace Gothic architecture up to its primary elements, we 
 
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 213 
 
 should have to go far hack in the world's history. As we hnve 
 neither space nor inclination for an extended and detailed ex- 
 amination of this matter, suffice it brieHy to remark, that its 
 origin mav be traced by slow degrees from the corruptions intro- 
 duced by the Romans into Grecian architecture, and especially 
 from the prevailing use of the arch. 
 
 Some maintain that there are only two styles of architecture 
 of which we have any knowledge, namely, Greek and Gothic ; 
 that these are the two typical styles, and that in them are con- 
 tained all the elements of which the rest are composed. * 
 
 This is, no doubt, to some extent true, just as it is also true 
 that all things in nature are derived from a few primary 
 elements. But as there are many varieties in nature, so there 
 are many developments of the two typical forms of architecture, 
 — all of which deserve to be classed as styles. 
 
 Greek architecture is the type of the trabeated style, that is, 
 the style whose principal feature is the straight lintel. Gothic 
 is the tj-po of the arcuated style, that is, the style in which the 
 voids are spanned by arches. Of these typical forms there are 
 many varieties. 
 
 Roman architecture, with its Greek form of decoration and 
 Gothic form of construction, — that is, having its exterior 
 ornamented with columns crowned by straight architraves and 
 cornices, and its interior constructed with arches and vaults, — 
 was a transition form between them. 
 
 In principles and essential characteristics, then, Gothic archi- 
 tecture is the very opposite of Grecian, and also of the Roman, 
 as ftxr as regards the exterior of the latter. 
 
 As distinguished from both Grecian and Roman, the leading 
 characteristic of Gothic architecture is the pointed arch, as seen 
 in the windows and doorways, sometimes very acute, at other 
 times more obtuse. 
 
 The pillars are made up generally of a cluster of smaller 
 columns, variously combined, and of different thickness ; in 
 which they differ from the Greek and Roman column, which is 
 only a single shaft. 
 
 In the Gothic, the mouldings, coniices, and capitals are 
 
214 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 totally different from the classical, or Greek and Roman, but so 
 various and complicated as to defy description, and to be ren- 
 dered intelligible only by inspection or by very expensive draw- 
 ings. 
 
 Entablatures, which form so important a part in Greek and 
 Roman architecture, entirely disappear in the Gothic, as the 
 universal tendency is to the predominance and prolongation of 
 vertical lines, — for instance, in the interior, by continuing the 
 shafts in the mouldings of the arch ; and on the exterior, by the 
 spires,*and by employing buttresses with strong projection, which 
 shoot upwards through the cornice and the parapets, and termi- 
 nate in pinnacles. 
 
 On the other hand, in Grecian and Roman architecture the 
 tendency is to the predominance and prolongation of horizontal 
 lines. 
 
 In the Gothic, the pitch of the roof is very acute, in corre- 
 spondence with the lancet form of the windows and doors ; in 
 the Greek, very obtuse, — more so than in the Roman. 
 
 In the Gothic, the openings are the greatest part of the 
 walls, and the other part is subordinate. In the Greek and 
 Roman, the reverse is the case. 
 
 In the Gothic, the elements of building are all slender, 
 detached, repeated, and multiplied ; they assume forms imply- 
 ing flexion and ramification. In the Grecian and Roman they 
 are larger, fewer, and compact, implying solidity, fixedness, 
 durability, and support. 
 
 Grecian architecture is characterized by simplicity; Gothic, 
 by variety. The former appears to most advantage when viewed 
 near ; the latter when viewed at a distance, and the detail is 
 lost in the mass. 
 
 There is more fixedness in classic than in Gothic archi- 
 tecture ; many of the general forms and features of the latter 
 wxre continually undergoing important changes in Europe, 
 which resulted in three different styles differently designated in 
 different countries. 
 
 In Great Britain the first style was called the Early English ; 
 the second, the Decorated ; the third and last, the Perpendicular. 
 
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 215 
 
 In France, this style received the name of the flamboyant, 
 from the flame-Hke waving of its tracery. 
 
 Tlie Early English, the first of the pointed styles, succeeded 
 the Norman towards the end of the twelfth century, and gi-adu- 
 ally merged into the Decorated at the end of the thirteenth, 
 and this into the Perpendicular during the latter part of the 
 fourteenth century ; the whole being superseded by the re- 
 newed classic about the middle of the sixteenth century. 
 
 It would be out of place in a work like this to attempt to 
 give a description of all the details of these several styles, as 
 they could not be understood by any one without an extended 
 and very expensive series of drawings and diagrams, — and 
 certainly not remembered, however well described, — and be- 
 sides they each have in common the same general characteristic, 
 pointed out in our pai-allel between classic and Gothic archi- 
 tecture. The framework is the same ; the difference is the varia- 
 tion only of certain parts. Suffice it, therefore, to say, that the dis- 
 tinctive mark that divides one style from another is to be found 
 chiefly in the windows, — as may be seen in our illustration, — 
 not in the general form or outline of the window, so much as 
 in the size and the interior aiTangement, and likewise in the 
 amount and nature of the ornament scattered over the entire 
 building. 
 
 THE EAKLY EXGLISR. 
 
 The windows of this style are long and narrow and with- 
 out ornament ; simplicity being its chief characteristic, particu- 
 larly of th« early stages of it. The windows of this style are 
 either single or in combination of two, three, five, or seven, — 
 the space between them being very small ; occasionally they are 
 surmounted by a large arch embracing the whole group, and the 
 space between the arch and the tops of the windows is often 
 pierced, in the later stages of the style, w^ith what are termed 
 trefoils or quatrcfoils, — an aperture in the form of three or 
 four leaves united, — thus forming the commencement of 
 tracerv. 
 
216 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 THE DECORATED STYLE. 
 
 This style exhibits the most perfect development of Gothic 
 architecture. The Early English was not sufficiently matured, 
 and the Perpendiculai; marked its decline. The term employed 
 to designate this style suggests its character as differing from 
 the Early English. It is distinguished by its large windows, 
 divided by mullions (small shafts running from the side to 
 the bottom, or base, of the arch), and tracery either of flow- 
 ing lines or forming circles and other geometrical figures. 
 The rose circular window belongs to this style, and the square- 
 headed window is very common. The doorwaj'S are also large 
 and richly ornamented. A few of the doorways are double, but 
 this is not common in England. A weather-moulding, or drip- 
 stone, is generally used over the heads of windows and niches in 
 this style, the ends of which are supported on corbel-heads, or 
 bosses of foliage. 
 
 The pillars in this style were either clustered shafts or 
 moulded, and the capitals were sometimes enriched with foliage. 
 
 The groined roofs of this style are distinguished from the 
 Early English by an additional number of ribs, and by the 
 foliage on the bosses, copied from nature, — vine, maple, and 
 oak leaves, and the acorn. 
 
 In this style there are found sculptured human figures, re- 
 marka))lo for the ease and chasteness of the attitudes, and the 
 free and graceful folds of the draperies. It is said that few 
 figures can surpass in simplicity and beauty the effigy of Queen 
 Ellinor in Westminster Abbey. 
 
 The general appearance of decorated buildings, is at once 
 simple and magnificent, — simple from the small number of 
 parts, and magnificent from the size of the windows and the 
 easy flow of the lines of tracery. In the interior of the building 
 there is great breadth, ornament is nowhere spared, and the roof- 
 ing, from the increased richness of the groining, becomes an object 
 of attention ; but amid all this richness, ornament, and variety 
 there is a simplicity which is pleasing. Were it not so, there 
 would be no breadth. York Cathedral is one of the finest 
 
WINDOWS 
 
 Characterizing the three Styles of Gothic Architecture. 
 
 PERPENDICULAR 
 
 EARLY ENGLISH. 
 
 DECORATED. 
 
tairiYBRSITT 
 
 •4 
 
 crpo 
 
 '^1^ 
 
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 217 
 
 examples of the Decorated style. This style was first intro- 
 duced ill the time of Edward I., and was in general use in the 
 time of Edward III. 
 
 THE PERPENDICULAR STYLE. 
 
 The broad distinction of this style, as seen in the drawing, 
 lies in the form of the tracery in the head of the windows. It 
 is no longer filled with the graceful flowing lines of the decorated 
 tracery, but their place is supplied by the rigid lines of the 
 mullioiis, which are carried through the architrave mouldings. 
 The spaces between being frequently divided and subdivided by 
 similar perpendicular lines, so that perpendicularity is so clearly 
 the characteristic of these windows that no other word could 
 have been found which would at once so wtII express the pre- 
 dominating feature. 
 
 The same characteristic prevails throughout the building, 
 the whole flat surface being covered with panelling in which 
 the perpendicular line clearly predominates. 
 
 Another peculiarity of this style is the constant use of 
 transoms (a bar crossing the mullions of the window at right 
 angles), and in large windows they are occasionally repeated 
 several times. Still another characteristic is the square ar- 
 rangement of the mouldings over the lancet-formed doorways, 
 creating a spandrel on each side above the arch, usually orna- 
 mented with traceiy, foliage, and a shield. 
 
 The roofs of this style are often made ornamental, and have 
 the whole of the framing exposed to view. ]Many of them are 
 of high pitch, and have a very magnificent effect, the spaces be- 
 tween the timbers in the interior being filled with tracery, and 
 the beams arched and moulded in various ways, and sometimes 
 pendants, figures of angels, and other carving-s, are introduced. 
 
 In the fifteenth century the Perpendicular was the style for 
 every kind of building, — churches, houses, castles, barns, and 
 cottages ; many of the Universities at Oxford are of this style 
 of architecture. 
 
 In France, and particularly in Normandy, Gothic architecture 
 
218 GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 was developed by nearly the same steps as in England ; but in 
 other parts of the continent it passed more rapidly into the 
 Decorated style, without undergoing any veiy clearly marked 
 intermediate change 
 
 TUDOR STYLE OF ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 "Tudor" is the term employed sometimes to designate the 
 later Perpendicular style, and the mixed style which sprang up 
 on the decline of pure Gothic. 
 
 As in the Gothic proper, so in the history of the process of 
 this style there were three eras : the Tudor proper of the time 
 of Henry VII. ; the perfected Tudor of the reign of Henry 
 VIII. ; and that called Elizabethan, after the English queen of 
 that name, because prevalent in her reign. 
 
 The Tudor stjde, however, did not originate with the ftimily 
 of that name, but with the Duke of Burgundy, who first intro- 
 duced it into France and the Netherlands about the year 1450, 
 and which, spreading into England, was adopted by the Tudor 
 family, and took their name. 
 
 This style was characterized by large halls with elevated 
 ceilings, and exterior breadth and elevation of the general 
 design to harmonize with them. It had small octagonal towers 
 capped with cupolas in the shape of a bulb or mitred crown, 
 underneath which was a fringe of rich crockets. Between these 
 towers there arose tall turrets, finished pinnacle spires, tipj)ed 
 with golden vanes, — a feature of the pointed Gothic ; and 
 added to these arrangements was that useful and charming- 
 addition so universally adopted in our day, the bay-window. 
 
 In 1509, in the reign of Henry VIIL, the gateway, so im- 
 portant a feature in castellated architecture, became lofty, and 
 was crowned with the broad, semi-elliptical, obtuse-pointed arch. 
 
 The greater breath and height given to the doorways required 
 a corresponding height and breadth of windows, to relieve 
 which they were divided by transoms (cross-bars), while a minia- 
 ture battlement was added to the exterior. As an additional 
 ornament to the summit of the wall, the chimneys were clustered 
 
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 219 
 
 and raised to the height of the towers, with an embattled 
 cornice ; and a notched parapet, still a fixvorite as a cornice, was 
 added to the entire line of the wall. 
 
 The third era of the style began when, after the reign 
 of Henry VIII., the prejudice which had excluded Italian 
 artists began to die out. Early in this period the Dutch 
 painter Holbein came to England. His Italian associations 
 and culture led him to throw his influence in favor of classic 
 and against Gothic architecture. Being only a painter, that 
 influence was not great ; still it gave a tendency to the i)ublic 
 taste in that direction, which tendency was increased by the 
 return about this time from Italy of an English architect, Inigo 
 Jones, who, having brought home from that country, the very 
 year of its publication, Palladio's new treatise on Architecture, 
 contributed largeh^, till his death in 1562, to foster the taste for 
 that mingled Grecian, Roman, Gothic, and Tudor style which 
 prevailed in England from about the middle of the fifteenth to 
 near the close of the sixteenth century, and which afterwards 
 received the name of 
 
 THE ELIZABETHAN STYLE OF ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Since Henry VIIL's time, as we have seen, the castles 
 newly erected had been furnished with halls, surmounted with 
 lofty ceilings, with high-pitched rafters of unpainted oak and 
 chestnut, supported by brackets ; at the upper end some large 
 hexagonal bay-windows reached from the floor to the ceilings, 
 and opened into the court below, w^iile on the sides of the hall 
 were large galleries lined with oak, having their walls adorned 
 with carved tablets, scrolls, and escutcheons, and crowned with 
 wide cornices ornamented with oak carvings in high-relief, and 
 interspersed with grotesque figures. These crude and grotesque 
 figures were modified in the Elizabethan style by the inti-oduc- 
 tion of classic forms, and by the change of curved and scroll 
 panels into the straight and angular forms of rectangles and 
 triangles, — thus giving a mongrel aspect to the whole that fiiils 
 to satisfy the admirers either of the Gothic or the classic. 
 
220 GOTHIC AECHITECTURE. 
 
 LOUIS THE FOUETEENTH STYLE OF ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 This, like the Elizabethan, is a mixed style of architecture, 
 and is best illustrated in the now existing Palace at Versailles. 
 It may also, like that, be regarded as a transition to the classic. 
 
 It introduced a basement with circular arches and square 
 pilasters, while the main story above had Roman porticos, with 
 Grecian triangular and Roman circular pediments and also 
 Roman corridors. To these decided Roman features, with rich 
 Ionic and Corinthian columns, was added the scroll-work of the 
 Tudor, sometimes also the pinnacles of the Gothic ; and above 
 all, as a crowning feature, the roof of double slope, called 
 Mansard after a French architect of that name, the inventor, 
 whose graceful curves are now so frequently repeated in our 
 structures both public and private. 
 
 While these changes were going on in Western Europe, Italy 
 retained the features of the Roman arcade style, specimens of 
 which may be seen in the Palace of the Grand Duke at 
 Florence, and the Farnese Palace at Rome, chiefly the work of 
 Michael Angelo. Had it fallen within the limits of our plan, 
 it would have been interesting to have briefly examined the 
 architectural works of Italy of that period, and especially those 
 connected with the name of one so renowned as Michael Angelo. 
 Nor would it have afl'orded us less pleasure to have added some- 
 thing to our very limited view of Gothic architecture in relation 
 to its peculiar adaptedness for religious, educational, and pri- 
 vate, and consequently its inappropriateness' for commercial 
 purposes ; but we must leave the discussion of that subject to 
 others, and close this essay with a few remarks on 
 
 MODERN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 And those not in disparagement of it, for although it develops 
 no new principle, it has made and is constantly making new 
 combinations, often very beautiful, exhibiting great powers of 
 invention and the highest festhetic taste. Especially is this to 
 be remarked of our domestic architecture, as contrasted with 
 which all that we know upon the subject will not permit us for 
 
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE. 221 
 
 a moment to suppose that what the ancients did in this depart- 
 ment will bear any comparison; and in support of this opinion 
 we have only to point to the many palatial residences everywhere 
 to be seen in both town and country, to say nothing of the 
 magnificent stores and warehouses constantly erected in our 
 large cities. 
 
 In our public buildings we have not always been successful. 
 Not unfrequently are they marked by incongruity and incom- 
 pleteness ; or, if the plans of the architects are good, they are 
 not unfrequently ruined by an injudicious selection of the 
 site the building is to occupy, — a point, we fear, but too little 
 considered in modern architectural arrangements ; or, if not 
 lost sight of by the architect, yet entirely neglected, or thought 
 of no importance whatever, by his employer. 
 
 Old Mr. West (Sir Benjamin West) used to say that after he 
 had done what color and the brush could do for his painting, it 
 was not finished until he could find a proper place and light in 
 which to exhibit it. 
 
 A building may appear ever so perfect on paper, yet, if it is 
 not so located as to present to the eye during some part of the 
 day, and at the usual distance at which we view it, the same 
 lines and lights and shadows as those on the architectural plan, 
 disappointment in a greater or less degree must follow, for we 
 do not get that which we promised ourselves. 
 
 The selection of a site for their public edifices was a point 
 most studiously considered by the Greeks ; and the height of 
 the surrounding buildings rarely, if ever, exceeded a single 
 story. There can be no doubt that much of the admiration 
 with which their great works were viewed was owing to the 
 judicious manner in which they w^ere located. 
 
 In modern times we sometimes hear of a State House or 
 some great public building erected " in exact imitation of the 
 Parthenon." The Parthenon was the crowning glory of a lofty 
 hill, like all the public edifices of ancient Greece, overtopping 
 all its surroundings. Its twin brother — that which was to 
 astonish the world I)}' the towering majesty of its form and the 
 beauty of its proportions — occupies a small low lot in a narrow^ 
 
222 GOTHIC AECHITECTURE. 
 
 and confined street of a city, its background being, perhaps, 
 a seven-storied gTOcery, and the nearest view of the horizon 
 obtained by a look up the chimney. "The Legislative Com- 
 mittee on Buildings " (to whom such things are generally in- 
 trusted) were doubtless delighted when it was completed, and 
 astonished at their imagined success ; but the architect was dis- 
 appointed, and all persons of taste, as they passed, laughed, — 
 and wh}^ ? It was the eagle, " near neighbor to the sun," come 
 down to be companion to the goose. 
 
 A gentleman of means and taste has somewhere seen a 
 beautiful dwelling-house, and designs to have one erected 
 " exactly hke it." He gets a drawing and building-plan of the 
 same from a competent architect, but says nothing of the form 
 of the ground on which it is to be located, w^hether on a hill or 
 in a valley, in the city or the country ; nor could he, for he has 
 come to no decision regarding it. The building, however, goes 
 up somewhere, but it does not realize the beauty of the 
 original, — and why 1 It is either placed too high or too low, 
 too far off or too near the eye, and the general contour, or 
 outline, is very different from that of the elevation by the 
 architect ; or it does not face the same point of the comj)ass 
 that the original did, — that looking to the south, this to the 
 north, — and, as a necessary consequence, the lights and shadows 
 which brought out and gave so much breadth, beauty, and 
 effect to the cornices and projecting ornaments of the first are 
 wanting in the last, and the whole is flat, unmeaning, and 
 insipid. 
 
 These mistakes in architectural arrangements are constantly 
 occurring, and as they are frequent causes of disappointment 
 they cannot be overstated. With a little foresight the evil 
 might be avoided. To know the true nature of a disease is 
 the first step towards the cure of it. To fully appreciate and 
 enjoy all that is worthy of admiration in art, one should not 
 only be acquainted with the sources of its beauties, but likewise 
 know the causes of its real and apparent defects. 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 IX accordance with what was stated in our Preface, we have 
 endeavored in the preceding pages to bring within the reach 
 of the common intellect a general knowledge of those principles 
 of truth and beauty which lie at the foundation of all the elegant 
 arts. 
 
 Of the imperfect manner in which our task has been per- 
 formed we certainly are not unconscious. Of the value of a 
 work, however, in which the contemplated design shall have 
 been successfully carried out, we apprehend there can be but 
 little difference of opinion, in view of the little knowledge there 
 is in this country, and, we may add, in England also, of what is 
 required to constitute a great work of art, and that, too, not only 
 among the uneducated classes, but likewise among those of 
 greater culture and refinement ; and the evidence of it is to be 
 found in the high prices paid for, and the high encomiiuiis so 
 frequently lavished, both by people and press, upon produc- 
 tions of inferior merit, whilst those possessing far higher, though 
 less obtrusive qualities, attract no purchasers, and excite but little 
 attention. So impressed have some of the friends of art in Eng- 
 land been with this melancholy truth, that a society has been 
 formed there, whose business it is to diffuse information, and 
 guide the public judgment to a right estimate, and consequent 
 reward of true merit. 
 
 It has been justly said that the advance of art in any coinitrv 
 depends not more upon the artist himself than upon those who 
 patronize him. " If the patron have not a high enlightened 
 standard, the artist will have a low one, the demand regulating 
 the supply in this as in other busmess transactions. If the 
 higher and more wealthy classes are enlightened on these sub- 
 
224 COXCLUSION. 
 
 jects, the tone and feeling of those who practise the arts will be 
 raised to an incalculable extent ; if the reverse of this, they will 
 be lowered. Had Pericles or Leo X, not been familiar with 
 the processes and exigencies of art, the arts of their re- 
 spective ages would never have risen to the elevation that marks 
 them." 
 
 It is not alone among the patrons of art and the community 
 at large, however, that we are to seek for a drawback on its 
 advance ; another, no less powerful, presents itself in the want 
 of education, thorough and profound, of the artist himself, and 
 especially in that constituent portion of the art called drawing, 
 or design, in its relation to the human figure ; and it is much to 
 be feared that the increasing appropriation of the daguerreotype 
 to the purpose by artists has much diminished the chances of 
 improvement in this respect. 
 
 It has always been the case, both in this country and in Eng- 
 land, that sufficient attention has not been given to learning the 
 elementary parts of the arts. We begin to color before we 
 can draw ; the consequence of which is, that there are compar- 
 atively few English or American artists who can delineate the 
 entire human form correctly, even when in repose, certainly not 
 when acted upon by the affections and passions. There are, of 
 course, striking exceptions to this, but the remark, as a general 
 thing, is correct. " Hence the multiplicity of a class of paint- 
 ings where gradations and contrasts of color and light and 
 shade pi'oduce picturesque effects that attract and please, 
 and, exhibiting more feeling than thought, find appreciative 
 admirers." 
 
 France and Germany have hitherto produced good draughts- 
 men ; but we much fear that even in those countries there are 
 tokens of coming degeneracy, — for whoever critically examines 
 their best and most intricate compositioiis will find that they are 
 frequently but colored photographs, camera transcripts, in which 
 the hand has as little to do as the head, and the heart less, — 
 the anatomy of furniture and dress giving evidence of that 
 intense study which the great masters of the past bestowed 
 upon the anatomy of the human form, the passions, the mind 
 
CONCLUSION. 225 
 
 and expression. We have recently heard it stated, but we do 
 not vouch for its correctness, that even Messonier, one of the 
 most popular, as he certainly in his department is one of the 
 best, of the many good French artists, has employed the camera 
 as an assistant in his labors, and hence the wonderful effects in 
 some of his productions. This, if true, does not detract from 
 the intrinsic merits of his designs, .but it does from the reputed 
 ability of the author. And, on the other hand, we hear that 
 another French artist, Dore, still more remarkable as a designer 
 than Messonier (whatever may be his merits as a colorist), is as 
 successful with the knife of the surgeon as with the crayon of the 
 draughtsman, having been for a long period a devoted student 
 and practitioner at the dissecting-table. 
 
 If this be so, our admiration lessens as we look upon the 
 efforts of the first ; but it increases, and with it our respect, as 
 we gaze upon the productions of the last. 
 
 With what feelings of contempt would the Angelos and the 
 Rapliaels of the past age have looked upon the machine draw- 
 ings of the present ; and with what humiliation must those 
 artists who appropriate them as a labor-saving process look 
 upon themselves when they think of the vast erudition of the 
 fiithers and great masters of the art, many of whom were the 
 most learned men of the day, with the most profound knowl- 
 edge, not only of everything pertaining to their own profession, 
 but of almost every other outside of their art ; they were the 
 great men of their age, — men who would have stood foremost in 
 any situation they were called upon to fill, or any profession 
 they chose to follow, or any art they were disposed to practise, — 
 men who did not gi'ope their way in the dark, tremblingly and 
 doubtfully, but who went on confidently, saw the end from 
 the beginning, and followed the best and only road by which to 
 reach it, — that road which ever^^ true artist must now follow 
 if he would elevate himself and his profession to the position to 
 which both art and artist are justly entitled. 
 
 Excellence in art alwaj^s implies labor in the preparation for 
 it ; and if that labor is bestowed rightly, there is no reason why 
 we, with increased knowledge on the part of both artist and 
 15 
 
226 CONCLUSION. 
 
 people, looking back to the already developed principles of 
 truth, and applying those truths to new combinations, may not, 
 in due time, inspired by the spirit of our free institutions, 
 succeed in imparting a " fresh progressive vitality to the arts 
 which shall clothe the land with a beauty that shall surpass all 
 which has gone before, and furnish means for improvement to 
 the aires that shall succeed us." 
 
TERMS USED IN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Architrave. — The lowest division of the entablature, in classic archi- 
 tecture, resting immediately on the abacus, or upper section of the capital. 
 
 Astragal. — A small semicircular moulding or bead, sometimes called* 
 a roundel. 
 
 Baroeboard or Vergeboard. — A board generally used on gables, where 
 the roof extends over the wall. 
 
 Bracket. — A support for*shelves, busts, etc., placed against a wall. 
 
 Buttress. — A projection running from the ground to the roof, on the 
 outside of a building, to give additional strength to the wall. 
 
 Canopy. — An ornamental projection over a door in Gothic architecture. 
 
 Caryatides. — A name given to human figures employed, instead of 
 columns, to support an entablature, as in the Erectheum at Athens. 
 
 Cavetto. — A concave moulding of one quarter of a circle. 
 
 Ceiling. — The under side of the roof of a room. 
 
 Cincture. — The fillet or band at each end of a shaft of a classical col- 
 umn, which is placed next to the apophyge. 
 
 Coping. — The covering course of a wall, generally .sloping to throw off" 
 the weather. 
 
 Corbel. — A term peculiar to Gothic architecture, denoting a projecting 
 stone or timber to support a superincumbent weight. 
 
 Crypt. — A cell under a church. 
 
 Cyma. — An undulating moulding, of which there are two kinds, one 
 called cyma recta, the other cyma reversa, generally known as the ogee. 
 
 Dado. — The body of a pedestal, or the square block between the base 
 moulding and the cornice. 
 
 Dentils. — Small square blocks resembling teeth, used in Ionic, Corin- 
 thian, and Composite cornices. 
 
 DiASTYLE. — A term employed to designate a temple where the distance 
 between the columns is equal to three diameters of the shaft. 
 Dormer Window. — A y^-indow with a gable on a slojnng roof. 
 
228 TERMS USED IX ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Dripstone. — A water-table to conduct off the rain and prevent its run- 
 ning down the outer walls. 
 
 Entablature. — The superstructure that lies horizontally on the col- 
 umns in classic architecture, and is divided into three parts, — the archi- 
 trave, the frieze, and the cornice. 
 
 EusTYLE. — - A term employed to designate a temple where the columns 
 are set two and a quarter diameters apart. 
 
 FAgADE. — A French term for the exterior front of a building. 
 
 Fan-tracery. — Vaulting in late " perpendicular work " in which all 
 the ribs, which rise from the springing of the vault, have the same curve 
 and diverge equally in every direction. 
 
 Fillet. — A small moulding, in the form of a band. 
 
 FiNiAL. — The bunch of foliage which terminates pinnacles, canopies, 
 or pediments. 
 
 Flamboyant Style of Architecture. — A style which takes its 
 name from the flame-like waving of its tracery, prevalent in France and 
 contemporary Avith the " perpendicular style " in England. 
 
 Foil-Arch. — An arch formed of a series of small arches. 
 
 Foliation. — A series of small arches, covered by a large arch spanning 
 the whole. 
 
 Frieze. — The middle division of an entablature, always plain in the 
 Tuscan order ; in the Doric it has slight flat projections at intervals, in 
 which are cut three flutes, called triglyphs ; the intervals between the 
 triglyphs are called metopes, which are enriched with figures or foliage. 
 
 Gable. — A term sometimes employed to designate the entire end of a 
 wall in building, when the upper portion corresponds to the form of the 
 roof; but properly it only applies to that section of it above the cornice. 
 The term is not used in classic architecture, as the ends of roofs when 
 made in this way are called pediments. 
 
 Glyph. — The perpendicular fluting in the Doric frieze. 
 
 Hood-Mouldings. — Dripstones. 
 
 Impost. — The point of junction between an arch and its piers. 
 
 Intercolumniation. — The distance between two columns. 
 
 Keystone. — The central stone at the top of an arch. 
 
 Lintel. — A piece of timber or stone placed horizontally over a door- 
 way or window, or other opening through a Avail, to support a superin- 
 cumbent Avail. 
 
 Loggia. — A covered space, the sides of Avliich are opened to the air. 
 
 Metopes. — The space betAveen the triglyphs, on the frieze of the Doric 
 order. 
 
TERMS USED IN ARCHITECTURE. 229 
 
 MoDiLLiON. — A projecting bracket, under the corona of the Corinthian 
 and Composite, and sometimes of the Ionic oith'r. 
 
 Mouldings. — A general term applied to all mrirfles of outline or con- 
 tour of the subordinate parts or features of a buihling, such as cornices, 
 capitals, bases, door or window jambs. The regular mouldings in chissic 
 architecture are the fillet, or list ; the astragal, or bead; the cyma recta 
 (a round and a hollow undulating moulding) ; the cyma reversa (the same 
 moulding reversed), or ogee ; the cavetto, or hollow ; the ovolo, or quarter 
 round ; the scotia (a hollow moulding) ; the torus, a half round. 
 
 MuLLiON. — In Gothic architecture the slender pier or shaft that fomis 
 the division between the lights of windows. 
 
 MuTULE. — A slightly projecting block worked under the corona of the 
 Doric cornice, in the same situation as the modillions in the Corinthian 
 and Composite orders, usually having a small number of guttre, or dro])s, 
 worked on the under side, 
 
 Neck-Moulding. — The ring-like moulding that separates the capital 
 from the shaft. 
 
 OcTOSTYLE. — A term employed to designate a temple having eight 
 columns in front. 
 
 OniEL. — In Gothic architecture a terra anciently applied to a little 
 room at the upper end of the great hall, where stood a square or round table. 
 At the present day it designates a recess and large bay-window, by which 
 it is characterized, and which either rests upon the ground or is supported 
 by a corbel or bracket. 
 
 Pedestal. A substructure sometimes placed under columns, in classic 
 
 architecture, and consisting of a base, the dado, die, or shaft, and a cornice 
 on which rests the column. 
 
 Pediment. — The triangular termination in classic architecture at the 
 ends of buildings, or that portion formed by the pitch of the roof above the 
 entablature. Anciently it was called the tympanum. It corresponds to 
 the gable in Gothic architecture. The term is also ajjplied to small 
 gables, and triangular decorations over doors, windows, and niches. 
 
 Pendant. — A hanging ornament much used in ceilings and roofs in 
 Gothic architecture. 
 
 Penthouse. — An open shed or covering over a door, window, or flight 
 of steps, to protect it from the weather. 
 
 Peristyle. — A court, square, or cloister in classic architecture, with a 
 colonnade around it ; also the colonnade itself. 
 
 Piazza. — An open area or square surrounded with buildings. 
 
 Pier. — A wall between two windows ; the two legs of an arch, as in a 
 bridge. 
 
230 TERMS USED IN ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Pilaster. — A slightly elevated or raised column attached to the walls 
 of a building, generally square, but sometimes round, forming the segment 
 of a circle. 
 
 Pillar. — Same as column, but now generally applied to mediaeval 
 architecture, and some other styles, while column, since the revival of 
 classic architecture, is wholly appropriated to the latter. 
 
 Pinnacle. — In mediaeval architecture any small structure that rises 
 above the roof of a building, or that caps a buttress. 
 
 Plinth. — A square member, which forms the lower portion of the 
 base of a column ; also the plain projecting face at the bottom of a wall. 
 
 Portico. — In its modern acceptation, a range of columns forming a 
 porch in front of a building ; that in front is called the pronaps, by some 
 writers, to distinguish it from that at the opposite end. 
 
 Propyleum. — A portico, court, or vestibule before the gates of a build- 
 ing. 
 
 Pseudo-Dipteral. — A term employed to designate a temple having 
 columns all around, but with those at the sides attached to the walls. 
 
 Pteronia. — The space between the Avails of the cell or body of the 
 temple and the columns of the peristyle. 
 
 Quadrangle. — A square or "court surrounded by buildings, as in a 
 cloister. 
 
 Quatrefoil. — A term applied to a small opening of any shape, which 
 is feathered with four leaves or flowers. 
 
 Quoins. — The external angle of a building. 
 
 Relief. — Projection given to carved work which, when high, is called 
 alto-rilievo ; when low, bas-rilievo. 
 
 Respond. — In medireval architecture, a half pillar or pier, attached to 
 a wall, to support an arch. 
 
 Rose- Window. — A circular window. 
 
 Rustic Work. — This term is applied to designate that portion of 
 masonry where the walls are worked with grooves or channels, sometimes 
 in the form of a square block. 
 
 Section. — The representation of a building cut in two vertically, to 
 show the interior. 
 
 Span of an Arch. — The breadth of the opening. 
 
 Spandrel. — A triangular space included between the arch of a door- 
 way and a rectangle formed by an outer moulding over it. 
 
 Splay. — The expansion given to windows and doorways by slanting 
 the sides. 
 
 Squint. — An opening through the wall of a church, in an oblique 
 
TERMS USED IN ARCHITECTURE. 231 
 
 direction, to enable persons in the transepts to see the elevation of the 
 host. 
 
 SuBBASE. — The upper moulding, or cornice of a pedestal. 
 
 Tracery. — The working of the top part of windows into several forms. 
 
 Transept. — The cross portion of a cathedral between the nave and 
 choir. 
 
 Transom. — A horizontal mullion or cross-bar of a window. 
 
 Trefoil. — An ornamental feathering or foliation in the tops of win- 
 dows, in Gothic architecture, in wldch the space l^jetween the cusps repre- 
 sents the form of a three-lobed leaf. 
 
 Triglyph. — A slight square elevation in the Doric frieze, between the 
 metopes, with three flutings. 
 
 Tudor-Flower. — A flower placed upright on its stalks, in perpen- 
 dicular Gothic work, as crest, or ornamental finishing on a cornice. 
 
 Turret. — A small tower or large pinnacle, often placed at the angles 
 of buildings to increase their strength. 
 
 Tympanum. — The triangular space between the horizontal and sloping 
 cornices on the front of a pediment ; also used to designate the space be- 
 tween the door and the arch over it. 
 
 Vault. — An arched ceiling; when vaults intersect each other at right 
 angles, it is called groining. 
 
 Vignette. — A running ornament, consisting of leaves and tendrils, 
 frequently used in Gothic architecture on hollow mouldings and casements. 
 
 Volute. — A spiral scroll, forming a characteristic of the Ionic capital, 
 also used in the Corinthian and composite orders. 
 
 Water-Table. — A horizontal set-off in a wall sloped at the top to 
 throw off the water from the exterior of the building. 
 
CATALOGUE OF WORKS OF ART 
 
 TO WHICH REFERENCE IS MADE IN THIS VOLUME. 
 
 MICHAEL ANGELO. 
 
 FRESCOS. 
 
 The Last Judgment. The Deluge. 
 
 Forming of the World from Chaos. Scene between Noah and his Sons. 
 
 Creation of Adam. The Brazen Serpent. 
 
 Creation of Eve. Mordecai and Haman. 
 
 Eating of the Forbidden Fruit. Judith and Holofernes. 
 
 Expulsion from Paradise. The Sibyls and Prophets. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Raising of Lazarus. The Battle of Pisa. 
 
 The Dream of Human Life. 
 
 RAPHAEL. 
 
 FRESCOS. 
 
 School of Athens. Defeat of Attila. 
 
 Blood-Stained Wafer. Rout of Maxentius. 
 
 Overthrow of Heliodorus. Deliverance of St. Peter from Prison. 
 
 Vision of Constantme. Constantine receiving the Cro\vn 
 
 Burning of the Borgo. from the Pope. 
 
 Dispute on the Sacrament. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 Transfiguration. Madonna del Sisto. 
 
 IMadonna de la Seggiola. Angel Raphael. 
 
 La belle Jardiniere. Julius XL 
 
 PAINTED IN DISTEMPER. 
 
 Donation of the Keys to St. Peter. Eljonas struck Blind. 
 
 Death of Ananias. The Beautiful Gate. 
 
 Miraculous Draught. The Resurrection. 
 
 Sacrifice at Lystra. The Ascension. 
 Paul at Athens. 
 
CATALOGUE OF WORKS OF AKT. 
 CORREGGIO. 
 
 FRESCOS. 
 
 Assumption of the Virgin. 
 
 OIL rAINTINGS. 
 
 Del Nottc (the Nativity). Christ's Agony the Garden. 
 
 Reclining, or Reading, Magdalen. Marriage of St. Catherine. 
 Ecce Homo. 
 
 TITIAN. 
 
 233 
 
 The Entombment. 
 
 Christ Scourged. 
 
 Venus. 
 
 Danae. 
 
 Bacchus and Ariadne. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Cresar Borgia. 
 Machiavelli. 
 Paulo III. . 
 Peter jMartyr. 
 Bunch of Grapes. 
 
 Last Supper. 
 
 B.attle of the Standard. 
 
 DA VINCI. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Head of Judas. 
 Mona Lisa. 
 
 Marriage at Cana. 
 Finding of Moses. 
 
 PAUL VERONESE. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Madonna. 
 REMBRANDT. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 "Woman accused in the Synagogue. Nativity. 
 
 Christ Scourged. Appearance to the Shepherds. 
 
 Crucifixion. 
 
 ANNABILE CARACCL 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 The Resurrection. 
 
 TINTORETTO. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 The Crucifixion. 
 
234 CATALOGUE OF WOEKS OF AET. 
 
 CARLO MARATTI. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Rebecca at the Well. Madonna and Cherubs. 
 
 RUBENS. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Descent from the Cross. Grotius, Memmius, Lepsius, and 
 
 Fall of the Condemned. Rubens. 
 
 Gallery of the Luxembourg. 
 
 NICHOLAS POUSSIK 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 The Deluge. The Finding of Moses. 
 
 SCHIDONL 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 Charity. 
 SALVATOR ROSA. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 The Devil tormenting St. Antony. Landscape, with Banditti. 
 CLAUDE. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Morning. Night. 
 
 Noon. Rustic Landscape. 
 
 Evening. 
 
 TENIERS. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Rich :Man and Lazarus. Witch coming from Hell w-ith a 
 
 Interior of an Inn. Smokers. Lapful of Charms. 
 
 VAN DYCK. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 A Child. 
 
CATALOGUE OF WORKS OF ART. 
 
 235 
 
 Marriage a la Alode. 
 Rake's Progress. 
 Industry and Idleness. 
 
 GREUZE. 
 
 OIL TAINTING. 
 
 Cottage Girl. 
 HOGARTH. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Paul before Felix. 
 Garrick as Richard III. 
 
 SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS. 
 
 Caldron Scene in Macbeth. 
 Mrs. Siddons, as Tragic Muse. 
 Banished Lord. 
 General Eliott (Lord Heathfield) 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Dr. Johnson. 
 
 Commodore Keppel. 
 
 Sterne. 
 
 Female Portraits. 
 
 SIR BENJAMIN WEST. 
 
 Cal}^so. 
 
 Death upon the Pale Horse. 
 Christ healing the Sick. 
 Death of the Stag. 
 Battle of La Hogue. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 The Institution of the Garter. 
 Return of Regulus. 
 Death of Wolfe. 
 Christ before Pilate. 
 The Last Supper. 
 
 COPLEY. 
 
 Death of Chatham. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 Sortie from Gibraltar. 
 
 Battle of the Sabines. 
 Coronation of Napoleon. 
 
 DAVID. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Assassination of Marat by Charlotte 
 
 Corday. 
 Cain meditating the Death of Abel. 
 
 FUSELL 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 The Nightmare. 
 
236 
 
 Battle of Bunker's Hill. 
 
 CATALOGUE OF WOKKS OF ART. 
 TRUMBULL. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 Death of Montgomery. 
 SULLY. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 Washington crossing the Delaware. 
 DE LA ROCHE. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Cromwell looking into the Coffin of Marquis of Stafford led out to Exe- 
 Charles I. cution. 
 
 GILBERT STUART NEWTON. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Lear, Kent, and Cordelia. The Vicar of Wakefield and Daughter. 
 
 McHeath in Prison. Shylock and Jessie^. 
 
 Falstaff in the Clothes-Basket. Petrarch and Laura. 
 
 Duncan Gray. 
 Pvent-Day. 
 Blind Fiddler. 
 
 Pandemonium. 
 Belshazzar's Feast. 
 
 WILKIE. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Letter of Introduction. 
 Cut Finger. 
 
 MARTIN. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Satan addressing his Legions. 
 Departure of the Israelites. 
 
 LESLIE. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 The Feast at Ford's House (Merry :Mary Queen of Scots refusing the 
 Wives of Windsor). Crown. 
 
 ALLSTON. 
 
 Titania's Court. 
 Roman Lady. 
 
 OIL PAINTINGS. 
 
 Prophet Jeremiah. 
 Jews' Heads. 
 
CATALOGUE OF WORKS OF ART. 237 
 
 DANBY. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 Opening of the Sixth Seal. 
 HAYDON. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 Christ's Entrance into Jerusalem. 
 DUBEUF. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 Adam and Eve. 
 GIRODET. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 The Deluge. 
 BARTLETT. 
 
 WATEPw-COLORED SKETCHES. 
 
 View of New York. View of a Gentleman's Country Seat. 
 
 CHURCH. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 View of Niagara Falls. 
 BIERSTADT. 
 
 OIL PAINTING. 
 
 Views in California. 
 
 ARCHITECTURE. 
 
 Parthenon. Pantheon. 
 
 Erectheum. St. Peters. 
 
 Temple of Jupiter Tonans. St. Paul. 
 
 Temple of Jupiter Status. Obelisk. 
 
 Temple of Epliesus. Pyramid. 
 
 Coliseum. Monument of Lyseerates. 
 
238 CATALOGUE OF AVOKKS OF AET. 
 
 Westminster Abbey. Eoman Orders of Arcliitecture. 
 
 Greek Orders of Architecture. Gothic Windows. 
 
 MODERN SCULPTURE. 
 
 MICHAEL ANGELO. 
 
 Moses. Night. 
 
 Day. Dead Christ. 
 
 BALL HUGHES. 
 
 Uncle Toby and the Widow Wadman. 
 
 THOM. 
 
 Tarn O'Shanter. 
 
 ANTIQUE SCULPTURE. 
 
 Jupiter Olympus Phidias. 
 
 Minerva Athene : Phidias. 
 
 Bellerephon and Pegasus Phidias. 
 
 The Sculptures of the Parthenon | j /).i 
 
 The Colossus of the Sun Chares. 
 
 Apollo Belvedere Uncertain. 
 
 Venus de Medici Cleomenes. 
 
 Juno Unknown. 
 
 Cupid and Psyche Unknown. 
 
 Hermaphroditus Poltjcletus. 
 
 Ceres Eleusine Unknown. 
 
 Flora Unknown. 
 
 Reposing Faun Praxiteles. 
 
 ( Agesander. 
 
 Athenodorus. 
 
 Dying Gladiator Unknown. 
 
 Ariadne Unknown. 
 
 Lycian or Young Apollo Unknown. 
 
 Discobulus in Repose Naucydes. 
 
 Discobulus in Action Myron. 
 
 Venus of Cnidus Praxiteles. 
 
 Venus of Cos Praxiteles. 
 
 Laocoon j Polydorus. 
 
CATALOGUE OF WORKS OF ART. 239 
 
 Dorypliorus, or Lance-Bearer Polycletus. 
 
 Hercules and Telaplius Unknown. 
 
 Mask of Jupiter Phidias. 
 
 Venus of the Capitol Praxiteles. 
 
 Venus Aphrodita Alcamems. 
 
 i^iobe and her Children Scopus. 
 
 Sacriticator Unknown. 
 
 Eichelieu Bacchus Unknown. 
 
 The Hunting Diana Unknoicn. 
 
 Cupid bending his Bow Praxiteles. 
 
 The Muses Unknown. 
 
 Diana discharging an Arrow j ^ . "^ ; 
 
 The Barberini Faun Unknown. 
 
 Menander Unknown. 
 
 Posidippus Unknown. 
 
 Hercules Farnese Glycon. 
 
 Venus of Milo Unknown. 
 
 The Graces Unknown. 
 
 The Boxers Unknown. 
 
 Sophocles Unknown. 
 
 Demosthenes Unknoicn. 
 
GEI«fEEAL IXDEX. 
 
 Addison, remarks by, on the inventive 
 power of man, 48 ; reflections by, on the 
 forms of the arch, the dome, and the rain- 
 bow, 120. 
 
 Aerial Perspective, definition of, 91 ; its op- 
 eration in causing objects in a painting to 
 appear near or remote, 92 ; evils resulting 
 from the neglect of, 92. 
 
 Agassiz, his theory of the creation of man, 
 3,4. 
 
 Alison, his theory of beauty, 5, 6. 
 
 Allegoric Painting, description and example 
 of, 30. 
 
 Allegoric and Historic Painting, examjDle 
 and description of, 39, 40. 
 
 Allston, Washington, "Court of Titania,"' 
 by, 50, 51 ; remarks by, on his study of a 
 " Jew's Head," 68 ; his paintings of " The 
 Prophet Jeremiah" and " Dante's Bea- 
 trice," 74 : anecdote of, in connection with 
 the EngUshl'ioyal Academy Exhibition, 103. 
 
 Amazon, statue of, 171. 
 
 Andrtirs. Joseph, engravings by, in this 
 volume : his rank as a plate engraver, ix. 
 
 Andrew, John, wood engraver; architec- 
 tural engravings by, in this volume. 
 
 Angels, composition of in Art, 49. 
 
 Angel Raplintt, engraving of, by Raphael, 
 description of, xxix. 
 
 Apollo Beli-f^dere and Venus de Medici, statues 
 of, 172, 173 ; use to be made of them in 
 theor>- of personal beauty, 2, 3 ; the ac- 
 cepted standard of form and reasons why 
 so regarded, 2, 8 ; objection to their being 
 so regarded, 8, 9, 10; in a certain sense 
 ideal yet natural, 8; types of general 
 beauty, 11 : Revnolds's theory in regard to 
 their beauty, 12 ; Walker's theory, 12, 13 ; 
 what much of their beauty results from, 
 19, 20; proportions of, 16; comparative 
 beauty of, 2(3. 
 
 Apollo, the Lycian statue of, 176. 
 
 Arrhitectnrf, introductory remarks on, 183; 
 the term defined, and class of buildings to 
 which applied, 183 ; Egyptian architecture, 
 185; Grecian, from i>age 185 to 206; Ro- 
 man, from 206 to 212; Gothic, from page 
 212 to 218 ; Tudor, Elizabethan, and Louis 
 the Fourteenth styles , from page 218 to 220 ; 
 modern architecture, 220, 221, 222. 
 
 Ariadne, statue of, 176. 
 
 16 
 
 Arts, division of, into useful and fine, 184; 
 evils resulting therefrom, 185. 
 
 Ascension, the cartoon of the, by Raphael, 59. 
 
 Athens, The School of, painting by Ra- 
 phael in the Vatican , 30 ; its deficiency in 
 general light and shadow, 80. 
 
 Athens, the Acropolis of, 197, 198, 199. 
 
 B. 
 
 Barberini Faun, statue of, 180. 
 
 Beauty, Personal, essay on, from page 1 to 
 25 ; its principles little understood and 
 reasons why, 1 ; theory of, to be presented 
 in this essay, '2 ; various theories of the 
 origin of man, 4; various theories of beau- 
 ty, 5; writers on, divided into classes and 
 the essential difference between them, 5; 
 the essential quahty of beauty and deform- 
 ity, 7; a standard of beauty, 7, 8 : argu- 
 ments for and against one, 8, 9 ; claim of 
 tlie Apollo Belvedere and Venus de Medici 
 to be considered standards, 8 : objections 
 to such claim made and answered, S, 9, 10 ; 
 what the sculptors aimed at in those stat- 
 ues, 11 ; beauty divided into classes, and 
 types of each, 11, 12 national and family 
 peculiarities of structure, 10 ; Reynolds's 
 theorj" of ideal beauty, 12; Walker's sim- 
 plification of that theory, 12, 13 : synopsis 
 of points considered in first portion of 
 essay on beauty, 13, 14; elements of 
 beauty, 14 ; proportion, 15, 16 ; synunetry, 
 16, 17; simplicity, 17; variety, 18, 19; 
 line of beauty, 18; persons -who cannot 
 be perfectly beautiful, 19 ; at what age the 
 most beautiful, 19; violent passion de- 
 structive to beautj-, 20; lines that char- 
 acterize beauty and deformity, 20; the 
 most beautiful sex, 20; a good complex- 
 ion, 20, 21 ; comparative beauty of the 
 Avhite and black races, 21 ; portion of the 
 human fiimily most distinguished for 
 beauty, and the reasons for it, 22, 2^3; 
 great beauty sometimes umler adverse cir- 
 cumstances, 23, 24; difference between 
 natural and artificial causes afl'ecting 
 beauty, 24. 
 
 Bell, Sir Charles, surgeon and anatomist, 
 his criticism on the tiirur<' of I>jizarus, in 
 the painting of" The l{:ii>ingof I>:izarus,'' 
 which forms one of the illustrations of this 
 volume, XXX. 
 
242 
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 Bell, John, the great English sculptor, 
 his remarks on the figure of Lazarus, xxx. 
 
 Bellerophnn and Pegasus, group of, 171. 
 
 Borgo, The Burning of the, an illustratiou of 
 dramatic painting, 35, 36. 
 
 Boxers, group of, 181. 
 
 Bramante, first architect of St. Peters, 116 ; 
 his advice to the Pope to employ Michael 
 Angelo to adorn the Sistine Chapel, 116. 
 
 Breadth, as an element of the picturesque, 
 78 ■, why it is always agreeable, 80 ; should 
 characterize all the constituent parts of 
 the arts, 97 ; one of the characteristics of 
 Michael Angelo's style, 121 ; also of Rem- 
 brandt's, 78 , and Correggio's, 134:. 
 
 Biionnrotti , Michael Angelo ,i\:ov[i page 114 to 
 122. His native city, birth, parentage, 
 first teacher and first patron, 115 ; his first 
 visit to Rome and employment there, 115, 
 116; his great cartoon of "The Battle of 
 Pisa" and its influence on art, 115; his 
 return to Florence, and employment by 
 the city, 115, 116 ; his second visit to 
 Rome and the object of it, 116 ; builds the 
 dome of St. Peters, 116; paints the Sistine 
 Chapel, 116, 117 ; his ignorance, at that 
 time, of painting, 117 ; paints but few pic- 
 tures in oil, 117; the prominent features 
 of his system, 118 ; what is required for a 
 full appi-eciation of him, 119 analysis of 
 the features of his system, 118, 119, 120, 
 121 ; his sj-stem of design objected to and 
 those objections considered, 122; impres- 
 sions made by his works, 122. 
 
 Burial-places of the five great masters, 133. 
 
 Burke, Edmund, reported reason for his fail- 
 ing to impress the House of Commons on 
 the trial of \\'arreu Hastings, 100 ; his re- 
 marks on lines characteristic of idiocy, 
 19, 20. 
 
 Byron, Lord, stanza by, on Greece, 139 ; 
 hues by, on the Dying Gladiator, 175. 
 
 Cnracci, The, found the second Bologna or 
 eclectic school, 135, 
 
 Cartoons, The. The term defined, 40 ; what 
 paintings the term " the cartoons " desig- 
 nates, and by whom and for what purpose 
 painted, 40 ; their numbers, subjects, and 
 great excellence, 40. 
 
 Catalogue of paintings criticised or simply 
 referred to in this volume, also of works 
 of sculpture and architecture, 232. 
 
 Ceres Ehusine, statue of, described, 174 
 
 Chatham, Lord. The painting of " the death 
 of," by Copley, an illustration of historical 
 painting, 37, 38, 39. 
 
 Chiaro-Osr.uro, essay on, from page 75 to 87 ; 
 the term defined, and its uses pointed 
 out, 75 ; the influences of light and dark- 
 ness both in the natural world and tlie 
 world of art, 75, 76; how the mind gets 
 to be impressed with the ideas of near- 
 ness, distance, and space, in both nature 
 and ai't, 77 particular light and shadow, 
 78 ; general light and shadow, and their 
 value in producing breadth and pictu- 
 resque effect , 78 ; paintings illustrating the 
 value of a general light and shade, 78, 
 79 ; not always best to represent objects 
 
 vrith the lights and shades under which 
 we view them , 80 ; nor enough that the 
 lights and shadows in a painting are 
 ti-ue, 80, 81 ; a selected light and shade, its 
 superiority, 81 , curious means sometimes 
 adopted to justify it, 81 ; a general hght 
 and shadow not destructive of the par- 
 ticular light and shadow of objects , 81 ; 
 nor does it reject contrasts, 81 ; place for 
 the highest and principal light in a paint- 
 ing, 82 ; comparative size and number of 
 lights and their relation to each other, 82 , 
 correspondence between the chiaro-oscuro 
 and the sentiment of the subject, and ex- 
 amples of, 83, 84 ; difficult to adjust a se- 
 lected light and shadow, 83 ; an invented 
 or selected light and shadow a compara- 
 tively new invention, 85 ; by whom first 
 employed for breadth and picturesque ef- 
 fect, 85 ; by whom extended, 86; Michael 
 Angelo"s and Raphael's chiaro-oscuro, 85, 
 86 ; Correggio's and Rembrandt's chiaro- 
 oscuro compared, 86 ; remarkable effects of 
 it in the works of the latter, 87. 
 
 Christ scourged, painting by Titian, artful 
 arrangement of the colors in, 90, 91. 
 
 Cimabue, one of the early painters and 
 founders of the art, 135. 
 
 Circassians, remarkable for beauty, and 
 reasons for it, 22, 23. 
 
 Coliseum, its architectural features, a type 
 of the Roman style, 209. 
 
 Colossus of the Sun, statue of the, 172. 
 
 Color, essay on, from page 88 to 110; 
 its rank and importance as a constitu- 
 ent portion of painting, 88 ; terms em- 
 ployed in discourses on, 89, 90 ; peculiar 
 influences of different colors, 90 ; the dis- 
 position of them as regulated by those 
 influences, 90 ; exceptional emplqjment 
 of them, 90, 91; evil arising from a neg- 
 lect of the law of influences, 91 ; as 
 affected by the highest light and deepest 
 shadow, 92 ; harmony of colors, how pro- 
 duced, 92, 93, 94; breadth of color, how 
 prod need, 94, 95, 96 ; great value of breadth , 
 95, 96, 97 ; continuity of, 96, 97 ; corre- 
 spondence between the hues employed and 
 the sentiment of the subject, 97, 98, 99 ; 
 analogv between language, music, and 
 color, 99, 100; the eye governed by the 
 same law as the ear, 101 ; evils resulting 
 from neglect of a correspondence between 
 color and the sentiment of the subject, 
 101 ; popular errors in regai'd to what con- 
 stitutes good coloring, 102; too great re- 
 lief, 102 ; glare, its cause and defects, 103 ; 
 high finish, mistaken notions regarding it, 
 104, 105, 106 three different modes of 
 coloring, 104 ; the best method, 105; the 
 different styles of the five great masters, 
 105,106,107; Newton as a colorist, 107, 
 108; why Reynolds failed to discover 
 Titian's mode of coloring, 108, 109; where 
 it is to be found, 110. 
 
 Columbus discovers America, but does not 
 give it a name, 147, 148. 
 
 Complexion, color of the most beautiful, 
 21 ; why the white race is more beautiful 
 than the black and I'ed, 21. 
 
 Com/)fl$ile Order, description of, 206, 207 ; 
 Friarfs remarks on, 207. 
 
GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 243 
 
 Composition , essay on , from page 54 to 61 ; 
 the term defined and illustrated, 54, 55 ; 
 under what heads tc be considered, 54 ; 
 the first object aiuu-d at in a couiposi- 
 tiou, 54; inherent beauty of lines, 64; 
 every portion of a composition more or 
 less characterized by variety, 55; this 
 variety to be restricted and regulated by 
 the sentiment of the subject, yti ; exam- 
 ples illustrating this in the old Greek 
 sculptures, 5(5; established principles of 
 expression in man affecting composi- 
 tion, 57; these natural ]>rinciples recog- 
 nized in the works of Raphael, 57 ; ex- 
 amples where those principles are neglected 
 and evils resulting therefrom, 58 ; the two 
 lost cartoons, " The Resurrection '■ and 
 " The Ascension," remarkable examples of 
 a correspondence between tlie composition 
 of the picture and tho sentiment of the 
 subject, 58, 59 ; " The Marriage at Cana," 
 bv I'aul Veronese, a striking exception to 
 it, 59, 60; how Raphael and Da Vinci 
 would have treated it, 60. 
 
 Co}ni'ro7)iist, the point of excellence, where 
 found. 23. 
 
 Condu.sion, from page 223 to 226. 
 
 Con^niity, the laws of, 11, 15. 
 
 Conslitiient Fortions of Painting, their num- 
 ber and names, 44. 
 
 Copley, his painting of "The Death of 
 Chatham," 37, 38; his high rank as a 
 painter and thorough-bred gentleman, 
 38, 39. 
 
 Corinthian Order, description of, 190, 191; 
 by whom invented, 200; compared with 
 the Doric, 201. 
 
 Corres,gio, from page 132 to 136; but little 
 known of his early history, 132 ; his life 
 where chiefly passed, 132, 133; his igno- 
 ran«e of contemporary painters of emi- 
 nence, 133: his birth, marriage, death, 
 and place of burial, 133 ; characteristics 
 of his style, 134, 135 : what he did for the 
 growth of art, 134 ; in what his superiority 
 consists, 134 ; compared with Rembrandt, 
 86, 87. 
 
 Ciipi'J bending his Bon', statue of, 179. 
 
 Cupi'J and Piycke, group of, 173. 
 
 Dnnne, painting of, by Titian, 120. 
 
 Dnnby, English painter, an imitator in 
 some respects of Martin, but much his 
 superior, 79. 
 
 Danvin, his theory of the creation of 
 man, 4. 
 
 Dai-id, head of the affected school of 
 painting under the Empire, from page 1.57 
 to 162; by svhat i)aintings once known in 
 the United .'States, 1.57 ; exaggeni ted char- 
 acter of his compositions, 158 ; their evil 
 effect on taste, 158 ; whence this exagger- 
 ated style originated, 158 ; certain estab- 
 lished modes of expression implanted in 
 man at creation, 1.58; these always to be 
 imitated in art, 1,58; not imitated by the 
 school of David , 158 ; reasons why the art 
 of that school pleased the French, 159; 
 the object of high art, 159 ; the permanent 
 
 g«>neral principles of exiiression always 
 characterized tho great Italian masters, 
 and also the sculptors of ancient (Jreere, 
 as aLsQ hU works fif genius, 1.09 ; ixntrait 
 of a child in the Louvre by Van Dyck, 15i) ; 
 also in the Louvre, two pmntings of " The 
 Deluge," one by Poussin, the other by 
 Oirodet, 160; these i)aintings compared 
 by Mrs. Jame.son, 16(1 ; painters of this 
 period who did not follow in the tra<k of 
 David, 1(51 ; early 'French painters of emi- 
 nence, 161 ; the inited States once deluged 
 with paintings from the school of David, 
 161; evils resulting therefrom, 1(52 ; the 
 benefit of studying the old Italian masters, 
 also the sculptures of ancient Greece, 
 162. 
 
 Da Vinci, Leonardo, from page 110 to 114 ; 
 favorable conditicm of the world at the 
 time of his appearance, 110 : best kno-.vn 
 by his painting of " The Last Supper,' his 
 birth, parentage, and first teacher, 112; 
 one of the fathers and founders of the art, 
 113 ; pointed out the way to nmst of the 
 subsequent improvements in science and 
 art, 113 ; his skill <is a designer, 113 ; com- 
 pared with Michael Angelo, 113 : indebted- 
 ness to liim of some of the great masters, 
 113 ; the first to employ a general light 
 and shade, 113 ; state of the art before 
 this invention, 113; prepares the way for 
 the coming of Michael Angelo, 114 ; his 
 death and place of burial, 1-33. 
 
 Decorated ,*ityle of Gothic Architecture, 
 wherein it ditfers from the Early Eng- 
 lish and Perpendicular styles, 216. 217. 
 
 Dffdalus, early Greek sculptor of celebrity, 
 163. 
 
 Delphi, the temple of, 197. 
 
 Del Pwniho, Sehnstiano, paints Michael 
 Angelo's great design of " The Riiising of 
 Lazarus," 91,92. 
 
 Demosthenes, statue of, 181. 
 
 Design, essay on, from page 62 to 74; val- 
 ue of design as compared with other con- 
 stituent portions of painting, 62; course 
 usually pursued by artists iu construct- 
 ing a picture, 62, 63; to be considered 
 under two heads, 62 ; what is required 
 in a good portrait, 63 ; use and misuse 
 of the model, 63; examples illusti-ating 
 the misuse of it, from ancient and mod- 
 ern art, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67; evils resulting 
 fi-om such misuse, 67 ; the proper use of 
 the model jxiinted out by Mr. Allston, 
 68; also exemplified in works of Raphael, 
 68, 69 ; object aimed at by Raphael in the 
 representation of" The Madonna, "and by 
 Da Vinci in " The Last Supper," and how 
 far they accomplished it, 69 ; painters of 
 history governed by the same laws that 
 govern the writers of it, 69; parallel be- 
 tween historical and dramatic representa- 
 tions, 70; the argument equally valid, 
 whether it be the portraiture of a fact, or 
 only the sentiment of a trans;tcti(m or 
 event that is intended to be represented, 
 70; rules deducible from the argument 
 applicable to every cla.ss of jtainting, 70, 
 71 ; correct design one of the greatest dif- 
 ficulties of the art, 71; small advance in, 
 until the fourteenth century, 72: Ma- 
 
244 
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 saccio's design, 72 ; by whom correct design 
 was begun and by whom brought to per- 
 fection, 72; Michael Angelo's design, 72; 
 Raphael's design, 72; Da Vinci's design, 
 72; Titian's design, 73; Correggio's design, 
 72 ; perfection of design where found, 73 ; 
 advantages arising from studying the 
 Grecian sculptures, 73 ; the study of them 
 neglected by the Dutch, Flemish, and 
 
 ■ Venetian masters, 73.; much studied by 
 Poussin, 73 ; Raphael's "Gardening Girl " ; 
 Allston's " Beatrice " and " Prophet Jere- 
 miah," 74. 
 
 Devil, painting of the, by Salvator Rosa ; 
 Agassiz's remarks on the composition of, 
 48. 
 
 Diana, The Hunting, statue of, 179. 
 
 Different Classes of Painting, from page 
 25 to 43; tlie names of, 25; the corre- 
 spondence between, and the same classes 
 in literature, 26; maimer in which the 
 different classes affect the spectator, 42, 
 43. 
 
 Discohulus, statue of, 176. 
 
 Domenichino, " The Evangelists " by, com- 
 pared with those by M. Angelo, 58. 
 
 Donation of the Keys to St. Peter, cartoon 
 of, by Raphael, 45 ; a painting without a 
 subject, 45. 
 
 Doric Or/'ifr, constituent portions of it, 188, 
 189; wherein the Grecian Doric differs 
 from the Roman, 189 ; the national order, 
 194; forms of Doric temples, 195; union 
 of the three arts, 195 ; comparison be- 
 tween, and Corinthian order, 201 ; the 
 uses to which Doric temples were appropri- 
 ated, and the reasons for such appropria- 
 tion , 194 ; the finest specimen of this order 
 in Greece, 197. 
 
 Doryphorus ; or, the Lance-Barer, statue of, 
 177. 
 
 Dramatic Painting defined and illustrated, 
 35, 36 ; its universality, 36 ; makes its ap- 
 peal to human feelings and sentiments, 
 36 ; its effect upon the spectator, 36 ; who 
 most excelled in it and the title it gave 
 him. 36. 
 
 Dubeiif, " Adam and Eve " painted by, 66. 
 
 Dutch Painters, their style of design and 
 misuse of the model, 63, 64 ; on what the 
 beauty of their paintings is largely depend- 
 ent, 79. 
 
 Dying Gladiator, statue of, 175. 
 
 Early English Style of Gothic Architecture, 
 215. 
 
 Egyptian Architecture, characteristics of, 
 185 ; its grandeur, to what owing, 203, 204. 
 
 Elements of Beauty, from page 14 to page 
 18. 
 
 Elizabethan Style of Gothic Architecture de- 
 sci'ibed, and wlierein it differs from the 
 Tudor style, 219. 
 
 Eliott, General (Lord Ileathfield), portrait 
 of, 37 ; contrasted with portrait of Com- 
 modore Keppel, 149, 150. 
 
 Emerson, Hon. George B., his letter of rec- 
 ommendation, i. 
 
 English School of Painting, essay on, from 
 page 137 to 157 ; the natural school, rea- 
 
 son why so designated, 137 ; few native 
 artists in England prior to Hogarth, 138 ; 
 reasons for it, 139, 140 ; Hogarth's first ap- 
 pearance, 140 ; contemporaries of Hogarth, 
 140 ; Pre-Raphaelite school, its character- 
 istics, claim to excellence and its defects^ 
 141. 142, 143. See Hogarth, Wilkie, Rey- 
 nolds, West. 
 
 Epic Painting, parallel between, and Epic 
 poetry, 33; example of, in the Sistine 
 Chapel, 33; the story told by that great 
 series of epic designs, as read by Fuseli, 
 34 ; by whom invented, and the title it 
 gave the inventor, 34. 
 
 Epic Poetry, characteristics of, 31; illus- 
 trated by the Iliad, 32, 33. 
 
 Erectheum, temple on the Acropolis of 
 Athens, 197. 
 
 Expression, lines characteristic of the most 
 beautiful, 18, 19, 20 ; lines characteristic 
 of evil passions and deformity , 20. 
 
 Eye governed by the same laws as the 
 ear, 101. 
 
 Fairies, desci-iption of, 50, 51 ; " Titania's 
 Court," painting by Allston, 51. 
 
 Falstaff, Sir John, reasons why not consid- 
 ered handsome, 19. 
 
 Faun Reposing, l74. 
 
 Fitness not an element of beauty, 6 ; in- 
 creases our admiration, but forms no part 
 of that to which we apply the epithet 
 " beautiful," 6. 
 
 Flemish Painters, to what much of the 
 beauty of their paintings is owing, 79 ; 
 their neglect of appropriate design, or 
 wrong u.'-e of the model, 64; compared 
 with Hogarth and Wilkie, 147. 
 
 Flora, statue of, 174. ■ • 
 
 For7n , what is required to constitute a stand- 
 ard of, 2 ; the Apollo Belvedere and Ve- 
 nus de Medici so considered, 2 ; standard 
 of, 7, 8 ; arguments in favor of a standard, 
 8 ; what ancient Greek statues regarded as 
 standards, 8. 
 
 French Art , from page 157 to 162. See Da rid. 
 
 French Gothic, its peculiar characteristic 
 as distinguished from EngUsh Gothic , 220 ; 
 the Mansard roof, 220. 
 
 Fresco Painting, description of, 143 ; but 
 httle practised at present, 143. 
 
 Friart, Sir Roland, his quaint description 
 of the several orders of architecture, 191, 
 192, 207. 
 
 Fuseli, Professor of Painting, at the Eng- 
 lish Royal Academy, under West, 29 ; his 
 remarks on portraiture, 30 ; description of 
 allegoric painting, 30, 31 ; his description 
 and illustration of epic painting, 32, 33; 
 his reading of the story told by Michael 
 Angelo's series of epic designs in the Sis- 
 tine Chapel, 33, 34 ; his painting of" The 
 Nightmare," 48, 49. 
 
 Gannett, Rev. George, letter from, recom- 
 mending this volume, ii. 
 
 General Light and Shadoiv, by whom first 
 employed for picturesque effect, 85 j ex- 
 
GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 245 
 
 amples illustrative of its great value, 79, 
 
 80, 81. 
 
 Giro'/ft, French painter of the David school, 
 1GC> ; his picture of " The Deluge " com- 
 pared with the painting of " The Deluge '' 
 by Poussin, IGU. 
 
 Girl " who never told her love," reasons 
 why it is not a subject for pictorial repre- 
 sentation, 46. 
 
 Glare not u characteristic of good coloring, 
 103; the evils n suiting therefrom, 104 
 
 Gothic Architecture, from page 212 to 220; 
 engraving of windows illustrating the dif 
 ferent styles of described, xxxii ; whence it 
 got its name, 212 ; one of tiie two typical 
 styles, 213, parallel between, and classic 
 architecture, 213, 214 ; Early English style 
 of, 215 ; Decorated style, 216 ; Peri>endicu- 
 lar style, 217; Tudor style, 218; Elizabe- 
 than style, 219; Louis the Fourteenth 
 style, 220. 
 
 Grace, line of, 18 ; definition of, 23. 
 
 Graces, group of, 181. 
 
 Grapes, engraving of, described, xxxi ; Ti- 
 tian's model for light and shadow, 78, 80, 
 
 81, 82. 
 
 Grecian Sculpture, from page 163 to 183; 
 perfection of, 163 ; chief events atfecting it, 
 163, 164 ; favorable condition of things at 
 the time of Phidias's appearance, 165 ; 
 contemporaries of Phidias, 165; the form 
 of the gods determined by Phidias, 166; 
 those forms influenced by the Grecian my- 
 thology, 166 ; completeness not reached at 
 once, 167 ; the first object aimed at in 
 Grecian sculpture, 167 ; the second object 
 aimed at, 168 ; other classes of beings be- 
 sides the human and divine to be repre- 
 sented, 168 ; obliged to rely upon history 
 for our knowledge of most of their sculp- 
 tured creations, 169. 
 
 Greece, important events in the early his- 
 tory of, 163. 
 
 Grotesque Painting described and illus- 
 traled, 26. 
 
 H. 
 
 Handel anri Hay fin, a cultivated taste ne- 
 cessary for a full appreciation of their pro- 
 ductions, 119. 
 
 Harmony of Colors, various methods in 
 producing it, 92; Mr. West's theory of, 
 
 92 ; as affected by reflection and refraction, 
 
 93 94. 
 
 Heath field. Lord. See Eliott. 
 
 Hercules Farnese, statue of, described, 180. 
 
 Hercules and Ajax, group of, 178- 
 
 Hirniaphroditus, statue of, 174. 
 
 Hish Finish, as generally understood, a 
 great defect in coloring, 104. 
 
 Hillard, Hon. George S., letter of recom- 
 mendation from, i; his high rank as a 
 critic on art, 31. 
 
 Hipparchus founds a public library at Ath- 
 ens, and collects and places therein the 
 works of Homer, 164, 165 
 
 Historical Painting, illustrated by paint- 
 ing of " The Death of Chatham," 37, 38 ; 
 paintings entitled to be called "historical,- ' 
 39 
 
 Historic and Allegoric Painting described 
 and illustrated, 39, 40. 
 
 Historic and Dramatic Painting described 
 and illustrated, 40, 41, 42. 
 
 Historical Landscape described and illus- 
 trated, 28. 
 
 Hislonrai Portraiture described and illus- 
 trated, 39. 
 
 Hogarth, his first appearance. 140 ; different 
 opinions resi»ecting bis merits a^ an artist, 
 1*3; what is claimed for him over otiier 
 English painters, 143; invents a new 
 branch of art, 143 , a genius in the higlie-t 
 signification of the term, 143; what he 
 aimed at and what he accomplished, 141 ; 
 not successful as an historical painter, 144 ; 
 his paintings of " Garriik, as Richard 
 III.," and 'Paul before Felix,"' 144; not 
 to be judged by the same law as the 
 Italian masters, 144: wherein he differed 
 from the Italian painters, 144 ; the national 
 painter of Great BritJiin, 145; like Wilkie, 
 not local in his delineations, 146; reason 
 why not local, 147 ; sujx'i-ior to Wilkie, 
 147 ; in what they both differed from the 
 Dutch and Flemish masters, and in what 
 they resembled each other, 147 ; in what 
 they were superior to the Dutch and 
 Flemings, 147 ; Hogarth sujierior to Wilkie, 
 147 ; Wilkie's indebtedness to him, 148. 
 
 Holbein, his appearance in England, 219 ; 
 his influence on the Tudor style of archK 
 tecture, 219. 
 
 Holofernes, painting of " the death of,"' by 
 Allori, 51; painting of the same subject 
 by William West, 51 ; parallel between, 
 and in some respects superiority of the 
 latter, 51, 52. 
 
 I. 
 
 Iliad, criticism on, by Fuseli, -32, .33 ; the 
 hero of, and what the author designed him 
 to be, 12 ; its influence on heathen my- 
 thology audits sculptured representiitions, 
 165; studied by Phidias, also by the 
 dramatists and philosophers of Greece, 
 165. 
 
 Invention, essay on, from page 44 to 54; its 
 rank, 44 ; examples of the highest exercise 
 of it, 44: importance of having a subject 
 for painting, 45 ; a painting without a 
 subject, 45 ; what is required in every 
 complete work of art, 46, sources from 
 which the old Italian paintei-s derived 
 their subjects, 47 ; sources whence the 
 moderns derive theirs, 47; a great change, 
 and what it indicates, 47 ; paintings whose 
 subjects are not derived from a written 
 record, but invented, 48; paintings in 
 which both subject and forms are invented 
 or original, 48 ; new combinations of old 
 materials, 48; Mr. Addison's remarks on 
 the inventive faculty in art, 48 ; pictorial 
 representitions of angels, God, sibyls, 
 fairies, and witches, 49, paintings whose 
 subjects are not invented or derived, but 
 only hinted by an author, 50, 51 ; imint 
 of time ma<!t fitting for rei)resentation,and 
 examples illustrating it, 51, 52 ; events of 
 different jwriods not to be represented on 
 the same canvas, 52.53, a notable otTence 
 against this re<iuirement,53, " Tlie Trans- 
 figuration," 53. 
 
246 
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 Ionic Order, constituent portions of, de- 
 scribed, 189, 190; most noted temples of 
 this order, 199, 200 ; quaint description of. 
 by Sir Roland Friart, 191. 
 
 Jameson, Mrs., her humorous description of 
 the two paintings of '* The Deluge,'' 160. 
 
 Juno, statue of, 173; inferior to the Venus 
 de Medici, 173. 
 
 Jupiter, Mask of, 178. 
 
 Jupiter Olympus, the form of, determined 
 by Phidias, 165 ; what Greek divinities most 
 resemble him , 166 ; description of, 169 ,170. 
 
 K. 
 
 Keppel, Commodore, portrait of, compared 
 with the portrait of Lord Heathfield, both 
 by Reynolds, 149, 150. 
 
 La Belle Jardiniire, Madonna so called, by 
 Raphael, 68, 74. 
 
 Lamb, Charles, his remarks on the figure 
 of Lazarus, XXX ; remarks by, on Titian's 
 " Bacchus and Ariadne," 95. 
 
 Language, when most perfect, 99; analogy 
 between, and color, 99; different tones 
 employed to express different passions and 
 sentiments, 100; three divisions of the 
 human voice, 100. 
 
 Landscape, different classes of, 26 ; first 
 class the transcript of a given spot or 
 view, 26; second class, ideal or classic 
 landscape, 27 ; method pursued by artists 
 in gathering materials for, 27, 28 ; histori- 
 cal landscapes , 28 ; landscapes in which 
 the figures are the least important part of 
 the composition, 28 ; landscapes in which 
 the figures are the most important part, 
 28 ; difficulty in combining landscape and 
 figures, 29 ; third class of landscape, 29. 
 
 Laocoun and his Sons, group of, described, 
 175. 
 
 Lazarus, the painting of " the death of," 
 described, xxix ; defective coloring of, 91. 
 
 Leslie, Charles R., professor of the Royal 
 English Academy ; his painting of " The 
 Dinuerat Ford's House," 50,51 ; the friend 
 of Ining, Allston, and Newton, 107; 
 quoted, 150. 
 
 Light and Shadoic. See Chiaro-Oscmo. 
 
 Linear Perspective defined, 91. 
 
 Lines, influence of, 204. 
 
 Lothrop, Rei-. Dr., letter from.reconmiend- 
 ing this volume, ii 
 
 Louvre, paintings in, 159, 160. 
 
 M. 
 
 Macaiday, English essayist, quoted, 12. 
 
 Madonnas, princij^les on which painted, 
 57 ; exanipli's illustrating the rule, and 
 examjilcs in which it was neglected, and the 
 evils resulting therefrom, 58 ; what Raphael 
 aimed at in the representation of the 
 Madonna, 68, 69. 
 
 Marriage at Cnna, by whom painted, and 
 description of, 60 ; object aimed at by the 
 
 painter of, and in what respect a splendid 
 failure, 61. 
 
 Martin, English painter, what his paint- 
 ings were remarkable for, and in what re- 
 spects deficient, 79. 
 
 Masaccio, a great painter for the age he 
 lived in, 135. 
 
 Menander, statue of, 180. 
 
 Michael Angela. See Buonarotti. 
 
 Milo, Venus of, a representation of vital 
 beauty, 11, 12. 
 
 Milton, analysis of his character by Ma- 
 caulay, 12. 
 
 Minerva Athene, statue of, 170. 
 
 Model, use and misuse of the. See Design. 
 
 Modern Architecture, some remarks on, 220. 
 
 Moses, statue of, by Michael Augelo, 5, 121. 
 
 Mouldings, their great value in giving 
 beauty, 6; their number, names, descrip- 
 tion of, and appropriation in classic archi- 
 tecture, 187, 188. 
 
 Muses, group of, 186. 
 
 Music, analogy between, and color, 99; 
 Gardner's " Music of Nature," 100 ; gov- 
 erned by the same laws as painting, 101. 
 
 Mythology, Grecian, wherein it differed 
 from that of other heathen nations, and its 
 effects upon sculpture, 166. 
 
 N. 
 
 Napoleon, painting in France in the reign 
 of See David. 
 
 Neicton, G. Stuart, his great merits as a 
 painter, and liis death, 107, 108. 
 
 Nightmare, painting by Fuseli, its original- 
 ity, 48. 
 
 Niobe and her Children, group of, 178. 
 
 Old Masters, characteristics of some of the 
 most distinguished, 137 ; benefit in study- 
 ing them, 162. 
 
 Orders of Architecture, descriptions of engrav- 
 ings of, xxxii ; Grecian described, 188 to 
 192; Roman, 206, 207. 
 
 P. 
 
 Painting, essays on, from page 25 to 163. 
 Pan , inventor of music, 44 
 Pantheon, Roman temple, description of, 209. 
 Paradise Lost, quoted from, xxix. 
 Parthenon, Grecian temple, 197, 198, 221; 
 
 sculptures of, 198 ; its present condition, 
 
 199 ; comparative size of, 200 
 Passions, natural mode of expressing them, 
 
 57, 158 ; violent, fatal to human beauty, 
 
 20 ; lines characteristic of, 20 ; lines that 
 
 characterize the expression of the gentler 
 
 passions and affections, 20. 
 Peabody, Rev. Dr. Andrew P, recommenda- 
 
 torv letter from, i. 
 Pericles, adorner of Athens, 186; patron 
 
 of Phidias, 197 ; his intimate acquaintance 
 
 with and fine taste in art, 224. 
 Perkins, C. C, his work on Tuscan Art, 205. 
 Phidias, his first appearance, 164 ; fixes 
 
 the forms of the Greek divinities, 165 : his 
 
GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 247 
 
 inilebttHlncss to Homer, 165 ; contempora- 
 ries of aud fellow-workers, 1*50 ; sculptures 
 by, ICO, 170, 171, 198. 
 
 Picture, the first object in painting to 
 make one, 142. 
 
 Pictiirtsque, a quality or element of the 
 beautiful, 55, 142. 
 
 Poets, the early English, importance of the 
 study of, l!>2. 
 
 Portico of the Parthenon, its great beauty, 
 201 ; of the London University , 204 ; of the 
 Pantheon. 209 
 
 Portraiture, its rank in painting, and exam- 
 ples of the highest class of, 29, 30 ; his- 
 torical portraiture, 37, 38; Reynolds's por- 
 traits, 149, 150, 151. 
 
 Posi'/ippu.s, statue of, 180. 
 
 Poussin, Nicholas, his painting of " The 
 Deluge,"- 29, IGO,"' his style of design, 65, 
 73, 74. 
 
 Pre-Rajihaelite, modern school of painting, 
 104, 141, 142, 143. 
 
 Proportion an element of beauty, 14; good 
 proportion, 15; difference of, in the two 
 sexes, 16. 
 
 Propylceujn, temple of, 197. 
 
 Raphael, from page 122 to 127 ; his par- 
 entage, birth, and early education, 122 ; 
 his first Ti.*it to Florence, employment 
 there and return to Perugia, 123 ; some of 
 his best paintings where found, 123, 124 , 
 his second visit to Florence, and for what 
 purpose, 124 ; his first visit to Home, 124 ; 
 paintings by, in the Vatican, and subjects 
 of them, 124, 125 ; appointed architect of 
 St. Peters, 125: "The Transfiguration,"' 
 125; his death and burial, 125,126; the 
 number of his productions, 126 ; compared 
 with Michael Angelo, 126, 127 ; in what 
 superior to all other artists, 126, 127 : im- 
 pression made by his works on tlie spec- 
 tator, 36, 122, 126 : his style of design, 72, 
 74 ; his chiaro-oscuro, 86. 
 
 Relief, attractive to the young and ignorant, 
 but not a good quality in art, 102. 
 
 Renihranilt, his misuse of the model, 64; 
 his painting of " The AVoman accused 
 in the Synagogue,"' 78, 80, 81 ; his 
 " Ecce Homo,"" "Appearance to the Shep- 
 herds,"' 84; comi)ari on between, and 
 Correggio, 86, 87 ; his chiaro-o-curo, 87 ; a 
 wonderful genius, 87 ; his " BcLshazziir"s 
 Feast,"' 99. 
 
 Resurrection, cartoon of the, by Raphael, 
 58. 59. 
 
 Reynolfis, Sir Joshua, from page 148 to 
 152 ; not verj' successful as an historical 
 painter. 148 ; his portraits of Mrs. Siddons, 
 Lord Ileathfield, and Commodore Keppel, 
 149 ; parallel between, 149, 150 ; his great 
 success in painting females and children, 
 150, 151 ; his coloring, 151 ; comparison 
 between, and Sir Thoma.s Lawrence, 151 ; 
 his remarks on color, 103, 104, 105 ; his en- 
 deavor to find out Titian's mode of color- 
 ing, 109. 
 
 R-c'irlieu Bacchus, statue of, 179. 
 
 Roman Architecture, from page 206 to 211 ; 
 
 Tuscan and Comj)osito orders ; wherein it 
 ditTers from (ireek architecture, 2(16; in- 
 troduction of the arch, 206. its indebted- 
 ness to Ureek architeeture, 207,208; the 
 Romans borrowed, but could not ada)»t, 
 209; Roman temples, 208,209; Pantheon 
 and Coliseum, 209, 210; little invention 
 in, 210; wherein it differs from (irecian 
 architecture in its effect on the spectator, 
 210. 
 
 Romano, Giulio,h\ii rank as an artist, 11; 
 his principal characteristic, 137; finishes 
 " The Transfiguration,'" after the decea.se 
 ot Rtiphael, 126. 
 
 Rome, Ancient, the conclusion of the old 
 civilization and the commencement of the 
 new, 211. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet, apothecary in, 19. 
 
 Rubt-ns, his misuse of the model in hi.s 
 historic designs, 64 ; his " Descent from the 
 Cross " and " Fall of the Damned," 98. 
 
 Sacrificator, statue of, 179. 
 
 Snlvator Rosa, his tliorough manner of 
 treating a subject, 101. 
 
 Samson, some remarks on his structure, 
 19. 
 
 Schools of Art, the four principal, 135. 
 
 Sculpture, from page 163 to 182 ; as affect-- 
 ed by certain events in the early history 
 of Greece, 164 ; as influenced by the my- 
 thology of Greece, 166 ; principles that 
 governed the Greek sculptors, and what 
 they aimed at, 167, 168; progressive ad- 
 vance in, towards perfection, 167; sub- 
 jects of Greek sculptures, 168 ; great num- 
 ber of Grecian statues, 182 ; small number 
 of those that have- come down to the 
 present period , 182. 
 
 Shakespeare portrayed man in general, 159. 
 
 Simplicity one of the elements of beauty, 
 14, 15 ; the basis of grandeur, 106. 
 
 Sistine Chapel, frescoes in, by Michael An- 
 gelo, 33. 
 
 Sophocles, statue of, 181. 
 
 Sully, Thomas, his high rank as a painter 
 and a gentleman, 107 ; anecdote by, of Sir 
 Benjamin West, 107. 
 
 Sym))ietry an element of beauty, and why 
 it gives plea-sure, 16, 17. 
 
 T. 
 
 Temple of Ephesus, description of, 200. 
 
 Theseus, temple of, 199. 
 
 Tintoritto, "The Crucifixion"' by, its 
 wonderful effect, 99. 
 
 Titian, from page 128 to 132; his birth, na- 
 tive city, and first teticher, 128; from 
 whom he deriveil some hints for his style 
 of coloring, 129 , the universal homage 
 paid him, 129; the great number of his 
 productions, and names of some of the 
 most celebmted, 129; chanicter of tlie 
 works painted by him, 130 ; Michael .\n- 
 gelo"s opinion of his design, 1.30 ; his prin- 
 cipal characteristics, 130 ; what he did to 
 advance the art, 130, 131 ; his great Jige 
 and death, 131: burial, 133. 
 
248 
 
 GENERAL INDEX. 
 
 Titian's wife, head of, an illustration, de- 
 scribed, XXX. 
 
 Tn}u, definition of the term, 89; how 
 produced, 93. 
 
 Trnn-i/iguration, The, last work by Raphael, 
 52; an alleged defect in the composition 
 of, 53. 
 
 TiirJor Style of Architecture, principal fea- 
 tures of, 118, 119. 
 
 Useful Arts, as contrasted with those called 
 " Fine," 184. 
 
 Utility not an element of beauty, and rea- 
 sons why, 6 ; our admiration increased by 
 it, but it constitutes no portion of that to 
 which we apply the epithet " beautiful," 6. 
 
 V. 
 
 Va7i Dyck, his visit to England, and high 
 rank as a portrait-painter, 138 ; examples 
 illustrative of it, 30, 159. 
 
 Variety, an element of the beautiful, 17 ; 
 the degree of it in any composition by 
 what regulated, 18; characterizes certain 
 forms in art, 20. 
 
 Vatican, frescos in, by Michael Angelo, 
 83, 36, 117. 
 
 Venetian Painters, some of the most dis- 
 tinguished among them, 128 ; their misuse 
 of the model, 73 ; their chiaro-oscuro, 86 ; 
 their neglect generally of a correspondence 
 between and the sentiment of the subject, 
 99 ; one remarkable exception, 99. 
 
 Venus Aphrodita, statue of, 178. 
 
 Venus of the Capitol, 178. 
 Ve7iiis of Cniihis, 177. 
 Venus of Cos, 177. 
 Venus of the Forum. 
 Vtnus fie Medici, 178. 
 
 Veronese, Paul, his painting of " The Mar- 
 riage at Cana," 60, 128. 
 
 W. 
 
 West, Sir Benjamin, his vast popularity at 
 one period, 152 ; much depressed now in 
 public estimation, 152 ; his parentage, and 
 native city, 152 ; President of the English 
 Royal Academy, and contemporary of 
 David, 152; reason why he should be 
 admired in the United States , 152 ; by 
 what paintings known in the United 
 States, 153; his merits and demerits, 153 ; 
 reasons why oveiTated at one time, and 
 now underrated as an artist, 154, 155, 156 ; 
 Lawrence's opinion of his scriptural efforts , 
 as compared with productions of a similar 
 character in modern art, 156; the high 
 character of his efforts on vmscriptural 
 themes, " The Death of Wolfe "' " The 
 Battle of La Hogue," " The Death of the 
 Stag," " The Institution of the Garter," 
 "The Calypso," "The Return of Regulus," 
 156 ; in view of all the circumstances, hopes 
 that he will some time or other be more ap- 
 preciated as a great artist, 157 
 
 West, William, his painting of the death of 
 Holofernes, 51, 52. 
 
 Wilkie, Sir David. See Hogarth, and first 
 part of essay on English Art. 
 
 Woman and her Accuser, Tlie description of 
 the engraving of, xxxi. 
 
 'UHI7BRSIT) 
 
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