Thoughts on the Imitation of Greek Works in Painting and Sculpture  

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The Artist's Despair Before the Grandeur of Ancient Ruins (1778-80) by Henry Fuseli

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Thoughts on the Imitation of Greek Works in Painting and Sculpture (Original German: Gedanken über die Nachahmung der griechischen Werke in Malerei und Bildhauerkunst) is an essay by German art critic Johann Joachim Winckelmann published in 1755. It is a manifesto of sorts of Neoclassicism. The work included a feigned attack on the work and a defense of its principles, ostensibly by an impartial critic. The Gedanken contains the first statement of the doctrines he afterwards developed, the ideal of "noble simplicity and quiet grandeur" (edle Einfalt und stille Größe) and the definitive assertion, "The one way for us to become great, perhaps inimitable, is by imitating the ancients." The work was warmly admired not only for the ideas it contained, but for its literary style. It made Winckelmann famous, and was reprinted several times and soon translated into French.

In England, Winckelmann's views stirred discussion in the 1760s and 1770s, although it was limited to artistic circles: Henry Fuseli's translation was published as Reflections on the Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks was published in 1765, but the text did not find enough readers to warrant a second edition.

Full German text

[1] Der gute Geschmack, welcher sich mehr und mehr durch die Welt ausbreitet, hat sich angefangen zuerst unter dem griechischen Himmel zu bilden. Alle Erfindungen fremder Völker kamen gleichsam nur als der erste Same nach Griechenland und nahmen eine andere Natur und Gestalt an in dem Lande, welches Minerva, sagt man, vor allen Ländern, wegen der gemäßigten Jahreszeiten, die sie hier angetroffen, den Griechen zur Wohnung angewiesen, als ein Land, welches kluge Köpfe hervorbringen würde.

Der Geschmack, den diese Nation ihren Werken gegeben hat, ist ihr eigen geblieben; er hat sich selten weit von Griechenland entfernt, ohne etwas zu verlieren, und unter entlegenen Himmelsstrichen ist er spät bekannt geworden. Er war ohne Zweifel ganz und gar fremd unter einem nordischen Himmel, zu der Zeit, da die beiden Künste, deren große Lehrer die Griechen sind, wenig Verehrer fanden; zu der Zeit, da die verehrungswürdigsten Stücke des Correggio im königlichen Stalle zu Stockholm vor die Fenster, zu Bedeckung derselben, gehängt waren.

Und man muß gestehen, daß die Regierung des großen August der eigentliche glückliche Zeitpunkt ist, in welchem die Künste, als eine fremde Kolonie, in Sachsen eingeführt worden. Unter seinem Nachfolger, dem deutschen Titus, sind dieselben diesem Lande eigen worden, und durch sie wird der gute Geschmack allgemein.

[2] Es ist ein ewiges Denkmal der Größe dieses Monarchen, daß zur Bildung des guten Geschmacks die größten Schätze aus Italien, und was sonst Vollkommenes in der Malerei in andern Ländern hervorgebracht worden, vor den Augen aller Welt aufgestellt sind. Sein Eifer, die Künste zu verewigen, hat endlich nicht geruht, bis wahrhafte untrügliche Werke griechischer Meister, und zwar vom ersten Range, den Künstlern zur Nachahmung sind gegeben worden.

Die reinsten Quellen der Kunst sind geöffnet: glücklich ist, wer sie findet und schmeckt. Diese Quellen suchen heißt nach Athen reisen; und Dresden wird nunmehr Athen für Künstler.

Der einzige Weg für uns, groß, ja, wenn es möglich ist, unnachahmlich zu werden, ist die Nachahmung der Alten, und was jemand vom Homer gesagt, daß derjenige ihn bewundern lernt, der ihn wohl verstehen gelernt, gilt auch von den Kunstwerken der Alten, sonderlich der Griechen. Man muß mit ihnen, wie mit seinem Freunde, bekannt geworden sein, um den Laokoon ebenso unnachahmlich als den Homer zu finden. In solcher genauen Bekanntschaft wird man, wie Nicomachus von der Helena des Zeuxis, urteilen: »Nimm meine Augen«, sagte er zu einem Unwissenden, der das Bild tadeln wollte, »so wird sie dir eine Göttin scheinen.«

Mit diesem Auge haben Michelangelo, Raffael und Poussin die Werke der Alten angesehen. Sie haben den guten Geschmack aus seiner Quelle geschöpft, und Raffael in dem Lande selbst, wo er sich gebildet. Man weiß, daß er junge Leute nach Griechenland geschickt, die Überbleibsel des Altertums für ihn zu zeichnen.

Eine Bildsäule von einer alten römischen Hand wird sich gegen ein griechisches Urbild allemal verhalten wie Virgils Dido, in ihrem Gefolge mit der Diana unter ihren Oreaden verglichen, sich gegen Homers Nausikaa verhält, welche jener nachzuahmen gesucht hat.

Laokoon war den Künstlern im alten Rom ebendas, was er uns ist: des Polyklets Regel; eine vollkommene Regel der Kunst.

[3] Ich habe nicht nötig anzuführen, daß sich in den berühmtesten Werken der griechischen Künstler gewisse Nachlässigkeiten finden: der Delphin, welcher der Mediceischen Venus zugegeben ist, nebst den spielenden Kindern; die Arbeit des Dioskorides, außer der Hauptfigur, in seinem geschnittenen Diomedes mit dem Palladio, sind Beispiele davon. Man weiß, daß die Arbeit der Rückseite auf den schönsten Münzen der ägyptischen und syrischen Könige den Köpfen dieser Könige selten beikommt. Große Künstler sind auch in ihren Nachlässigkeiten weise, sie können nicht fehlen, ohne zugleich zu unterrichten. Man betrachte ihre Werke, wie Lucian den Jupiter des Phidias will betrachtet haben, den Jupiter selbst, nicht den Schemel seiner Füße.

Die Kenner und Nachahmer der griechischen Werke finden in ihren Meisterstücken nicht allein die schönste Natur, sondern noch mehr als Natur, das ist, gewisse idealische Schönheiten derselben, die, wie uns ein alter Ausleger des Plato lehrt, von Bildern, bloß im Verstande entworfen, gemacht sind.

Der schönste Körper unter uns wäre vielleicht dem schönsten griechischen Körper nicht ähnlicher, als Iphikles dem Herkules, seinem Bruder, war. Der Einfluß eines sanften und reinen Himmels wirkte bei der ersten Bildung der Griechen, die frühzeitigen Leibesübungen aber gaben dieser Bildung die edle Form. Man nehme einen jungen Spartaner, den ein Held mit einer Heldin gezeugt, der in der Kindheit niemals in Windeln eingeschränkt gewesen, der von dem siebenten Jahre an auf der Erde geschlafen und im Ringen und Schwimmen von Kindesbeinen an war geübt worden. Man stelle ihn neben einen jungen Sybariten unserer Zeit: und alsdann urteile man, welchen von beiden der Künstler zu einem Urbilde eines jungen Theseus, eines Achilles, ja selbst eines Bacchus nehmen würde. Nach diesem gebildet, würde es ein Theseus, bei Rosen, und nach jenem gebildet, ein Theseus, bei Fleisch erzogen, werden, wie ein griechischer Maler von zwei verschiedenen Vorstellungen dieses Helden urteilte.

[4] Zu den Leibesübungen waren die großen Spiele allen jungen Griechen ein kräftiger Sporn, und die Gesetze verlangten eine zehnmonatliche Vorbereitung zu den olympischen Spielen, und dieses in Elis, an dem Orte selbst, wo sie gehalten wurden. Die größten Preise erhielten nicht allezeit Männer, sondern meistenteils junge Leute, wie Pindars Oden zeigen. Dem göttlichen Diagoras gleich zu werden war der höchste Wunsch der Jugend.

Seht den schnellen Indianer an, der einem Hirsche zu Fuße nachsetzt. Wie flüchtig werden seine Säfte, wie biegsam und schnell werden seine Nerven und Muskeln, und wie leicht wird der ganze Bau des Körpers gemacht. So bildet uns Homer seine Helden, und seinen Achilles bezeichnet er vorzüglich durch die Geschwindigkeit seiner Füße.

Die Körper erhielten durch diese Übungen den großen und männlichen Kontur, welchen die griechischen Meister ihren Bildsäulen gegeben, ohne Dunst und überflüssigen Ansatz. Die jungen Spartaner mußten sich alle zehn Tage vor den Ephoren nackend zeigen, die denjenigen, welche anfingen fett zu werden, eine strengere Diät auflegten. Ja, es war eins unter den Gesetzen des Pythagoras, sich vor allem überflüssigen Ansatz des Körpers zu hüten. Es geschah vielleicht aus eben dem Grunde, daß jungen Leuten unter den Griechen der ältesten Zeiten, die sich zu einem Wettkampf im Ringen angaben, während der Zeit der Vorübungen nur Milchspeise zugelassen war.

Aller Übelstand des Körpers wurde behutsam vermieden, und da Alcibiades in seiner Jugend die Flöte nicht blasen lernen wollte, weil sie das Gesicht verstellte, so folgten die jungen Athenienser seinem Beispiele.

Nach dem war der ganze Anzug der Griechen so beschaffen, daß er der bildenden Natur nicht den geringsten Zwang antat. Das Wachstum der schönen Form litt nichts durch die verschiedenen Arten und Teile unserer heutigen pressenden und klemmenden Kleidung, sonderlich am Halse, an den Hüften und Schenkeln. Das schöne Geschlecht selbst unter [5] den Griechen wußte von keinem ängstlichen Zwange in seinem Putze: die jungen Spartanerinnen waren so leicht und kurz bekleidet, daß man sie daher Hüftzeigerinnen nannte.

Es ist auch bekannt, wie sorgfältig die Griechen waren, schöne Kinder zu zeugen. Quillet in seiner Kallipädie zeigt nicht so viel Wege dazu, als unter ihnen üblich waren. Sie gingen sogar so weit, daß sie aus blauen Augen schwarze zu machen suchten. Auch zur Beförderung dieser Absicht errichtete man Wettspiele der Schönheit. Sie wurden in Elis gehalten; der Preis bestand in Waffen, die in dem Tempel der Minerva aufgehängt wurden. An gründlichen und gelehrten Richtern konnte es in diesen Spielen nicht fehlen, da die Griechen, wie Aristoteles berichtet, ihre Kinder im Zeichnen unterrichten ließen, vornehmlich weil sie glaubten, daß es geschickter mache, die Schönheit in den Körpern zu betrachten und zu beurteilen.

Das schöne Geblüt der Einwohner der meisten griechischen Inseln, welches gleichwohl mit so verschiedenem fremden Geblüte vermischt ist, und die vorzüglichen Reizungen des schönen Geschlechts daselbst, sonderlich auf der Insel Skios, geben zugleich eine gegründete Mutmaßung von den Schönheiten beiderlei Geschlechts unter ihren Vorfahren, die sich rühmten, ursprünglich, ja älter als der Mond zu sein.

Es sind ja noch jetzt ganze Völker, bei welchen die Schönheit so gar kein Vorzug ist, weil alles schön ist. Die Reisebeschreiber sagen dieses einhellig von den Georgianern, und ebendieses berichtet man von den Kabardinski, einer Nation in der krimischen Tartarei.

Die Krankheiten, welche so viel Schönheiten zerstören und die edelsten Bildungen verderben, waren den Griechen noch unbekannt. Es findet sich in den Schriften der griechischen Ärzte keine Spur von Blattern, und in keines Griechen angezeigter Bildung, welche man bei Homer oft nach den geringsten Zügen entworfen sieht, ist ein so unterscheidendes Kennzeichen, wie Blattergruben sind, angebracht worden. Die venerischen Übel und die Tochter derselben, die englische [6] Krankheit, wüteten auch noch nicht wider die schöne Natur der Griechen. Überhaupt war alles, was von der Geburt bis zur Fülle des Wachstums zur Bildung der Körper, zur Bewahrung, zur Ausarbeitung und zur Zierde dieser Bildung durch Natur und Kunst eingeflößt und gelehrt worden, zum Vorteil der schönen Natur der alten Griechen gewirkt und angewendet, und kann die vorzügliche Schönheit ihrer Körper vor den unsrigen mit der größten Wahrscheinlichkeit zu behaupten Anlaß geben.

Die vollkommensten Geschöpfe der Natur aber würden in einem Lande, wo die Natur in vielen ihrer Wirkungen durch strengere Gesetze gehemmt war, wie in Ägypten, dem vorgegebenen Vaterlande der Künste und Wissenschaften, den Künstlern nur zum Teil und unvollkommen bekannt geworden sein. In Griechenland aber, wo man sich der Lust und Freude von Jugend auf weihte, wo ein gewisser heutiger bürgerlicher Wohlstand der Freiheit der Sitten niemals Eintrag getan, da zeigte sich die schöne Natur unverhüllt zum großen Unterrichte der Künstler.

Die Schule der Künstler war in den Gymnasien, wo die jungen Leute, welche die öffentliche Schamhaftigkeit bedeckte, ganz nackend ihre Leibesübungen trieben. Der Weise, der Künstler gingen dahin: Sokrates, den Charmides, den Autolycus, den Lysis zu lehren; ein Phidias, aus diesen schönen Geschöpfen seine Kunst zu bereichern. Man lernte daselbst Bewegungen der Muskeln, Wendungen des Körpers; man studierte die Umrisse der Körper oder den Kontur an dem Abdrucke, den die jungen Ringer im Sande gemacht hatten.

Das schönste Nackende der Körper zeigt sich hier in so mannigfaltigen, wahrhaften und edlen Ständen und Stellungen, in die ein gedungenes Modell, welches in unseren Akademien aufgestellt wird, nicht zu setzen ist.

Die innere Empfindung bildet den Charakter der Wahrheit, und der Zeichner, welcher seinen Akademien denselben geben will, wird nicht einen Schatten des Wahren erhalten [7] ohne eigene Ersetzung desjenigen, was eine ungerührte und gleichgültige Seele des Modells nicht empfindet, noch durch eine Aktion, die einer gewissen Empfindung oder Leidenschaft eigen ist, ausdrücken kann.

Der Eingang zu vielen Gesprächen des Plato, die er in den Gymnasien zu Athen ihren Anfang nehmen lassen, macht uns ein Bild von den edlen Seelen der Jugend und läßt uns auch hieraus auf gleichförmige Handlungen und Stellungen an diesen Orten und in ihren Leibesübungen schließen.

Die schönsten jungen Leute tanzten unbekleidet auf dem Theater, und Sophokles, der große Sophokles, war der erste, der in seiner Jugend dieses Schauspiel seinen Bürgern machte. Phryne badete sich in den eleusinischen Spielen vor den Augen aller Griechen und wurde beim Heraussteigen aus dem Wasser den Künstlern das Urbild einer Venus Anadyomene, und man weiß, daß die jungen Mädchen in Sparta an einem gewissen Feste ganz nackend vor den Augen der jungen Leute tanzten. Was hier fremd scheinen könnte, wird erträglicher werden, wenn man bedenkt, daß auch die Christen der ersten Kirche ohne die geringste Verhüllung, sowohl Männer als Weiber, zu gleicher Zeit und in einem und ebendemselben Taufsteine getauft oder untergetaucht worden sind.

Also war auch ein jedes Fest bei den Griechen eine Gelegenheit für Künstler, sich mit der schönen Natur aufs genaueste bekanntzumachen.

Die Menschlichkeit der Griechen hatte in ihrer blühenden Freiheit keine blutigen Schauspiele einführen wollen, oder wenn dergleichen in dem ionischen Asien, wie einige glauben, üblich gewesen, so waren sie seit geraumer Zeit wiederum eingestellt. Antiochus Epiphanes, König in Syrien, verschrieb Fechter von Rom und ließ die Griechen Schauspiele dieser unglücklichen Menschen sehen, die ihnen anfänglich ein Abscheu waren. Mit der Zeit verlor sich das menschliche Gefühl, und auch diese Schauspiele wurden Schulen der Künstler. Ein Ktesilas studierte hier seinen sterbenden Fechter, »an [8] welchem man sehen konnte, wieviel von seiner Seele noch in ihm übrig war«.

Diese häufigen Gelegenheiten zur Beobachtung der Natur veranlaßten die griechischen Künstler, noch weiter zu gehen. Sie fingen an, sich gewisse allgemeine Begriffe von Schönheiten sowohl einzelner Teile als ganzer Verhältnisse der Körper zu bilden, die sich über die Natur selbst erheben sollten; ihr Urbild war eine bloß im Verstande entworfene geistige Natur.

So bildete Raffael seine Galatea. Man sehe seinen Brief an den Grafen Baldasare Castiglione: »Da die Schönheiten«, schreibt er, »unter dem Frauenzimmer so selten sind, so bediene ich mich einer gewissen Idee in meiner Einbildung.«

Nach solchen über die gewöhnliche Form der Materie erhabenen Begriffen bildeten die Griechen Götter und Menschen. An Göttern und Göttinnen machte Stirn und Nase beinahe eine gerade Linie. Die Köpfe berühmter Frauen auf griechischen Münzen haben dergleichen Profil, wo es gleichwohl nicht willkürlich war, nach idealischen Begriffen zu arbeiten. Oder man könnte mutmaßen, daß diese Bildung den alten Griechen ebenso eigen gewesen, als es bei den Kalmücken die flachen Nasen, bei den Chinesen die kleinen Augen sind. Die großen Augen der griechischen Köpfe auf Steinen und Münzen könnten diese Mutmaßungen unterstützen.

Die römischen Kaiserinnen wurden von den Griechen auf ihren Münzen nach eben diesen Ideen gebildet. Der Kopf einer Livia und einer Agrippina hat ebendasselbe Profil, welches der Kopf einer Artemisia und einer Kleopatra hat.

Bei allen diesen bemerkt man, daß das von den Thebanern ihren Künstlern vorgeschriebene Gesetz, »die Natur bei Strafe aufs beste nachzuahmen«, auch von andern Künstlern in Griechenland als ein Gesetz beobachtet worden. Wo das sanfte griechische Profil ohne Nachteil der Ähnlichkeit nicht anzubringen war, folgten sie der Wahrheit der Natur, wie [9] an dem schönen Kopf der Julia, Kaiser Titus' Tochter, von der Hand des Euodus, zu sehen ist.

Das Gesetz aber, »die Personen ähnlich und zu gleicher Zeit schöner zu machen«, war allezeit das höchste Gesetz, welches die griechischen Künstler über sich erkannten, und setzt notwendig eine Absicht des Meisters auf eine schönere und vollkommenere Natur voraus. Polygnot hat dasselbe beständig beobachtet.

Wenn also von einigen Künstlern berichtet wird, daß sie wie Praxiteles verfahren, welcher seine knidische Venus nach seiner Beischläferin Kratina gebildet, oder wie andere Maler, welche die Lais zum Modell der Grazien genommen, so glaube ich, sei es geschehen ohne Abweichung von gemeldeten allgemeinen großen Gesetzen der Kunst. Die sinnliche Schönheit gab dem Künstler die schöne Natur, die idealische Schönheit die erhabenen Züge; von jener nahm er das Menschliche, von dieser das Göttliche.

Hat jemand Erleuchtung genug, in das Innerste der Kunst hineinzuschauen, so wird er durch Vergleichung des ganzen übrigen Baues der griechischen Figuren mit den meisten neuern, sonderlich in welchen man mehr der Natur als dem alten Geschmacke gefolgt ist, vielmals noch wenig entdeckte Schönheiten finden.

In den meisten Figuren neuerer Meister sieht man an den Teilen des Körpers, welche zusammengedrückt sind, kleine, gar zu sehr bezeichnete Falten der Haut; dahingegen wo sich ebendieselben Falten in gleichgedrückte Teile griechischer Figuren legen, ein sanfter Schwung eine aus der andern wellenförmig erhebt, dergestalt, daß diese Falten nur ein Ganzes und zusammen nur einen edlen Druck zu machen scheinen. Diese Meisterstücke zeigen uns eine Haut, die nicht angespannt, sondern sanft gezogen ist über ein gesundes Fleisch, welches dieselbe ohne schwülstige Ausdehnung füllt und bei allen Beugungen der fleischigen Teile der Richtung derselben vereinigt folgt. Die Haut wirft niemals, wie an unsern Körpern, besondere und von dem Fleisch getrennte kleine Falten.

[10] Ebenso unterscheiden sich die neuern Werke von den griechischen durch eine Menge kleiner Eindrücke und durch gar zu viele und gar zu sinnlich gemachte Grübchen, welche, wo sie sich in den Werken der Alten befinden, mit einer sparsamen Weisheit, nach der Masse derselben in der vollkommenern und völligern Natur unter den Griechen, sanft angedeutet und öfters nur durch ein gelehrtes Gefühl bemerkt werden.

Es bietet sich hier allezeit die Wahrscheinlichkeit von selbst dar, daß in der Bildung der schönen griechischen Körper, wie in den Werken ihrer Meister, mehr Einheit des ganzen Baues, eine edlere Verbindung der Teile, ein reicheres Maß der Fülle gewesen, ohne magere Spannungen und ohne viele eingefallene Höhlungen unserer Körper.

Man kann nicht weiter als bis zur Wahrscheinlichkeit gehen. Es verdient aber diese Wahrscheinlichkeit die Aufmerksamkeit unserer Künstler und Kenner der Kunst, und dieses um so viel mehr, da es notwendig ist, die Verehrung der Denkmale der Griechen von dem ihr von vielen beigemessenen Vorurteile zu befreien, um nicht zu scheinen, der Nachahmung derselben bloß durch den Moder der Zeit ein Verdienst beizulegen.

Dieser Punkt, über welchen die Stimmen der Künstler geteilt sind, erforderte eine ausführlichere Abhandlung, als in gegenwärtiger Absicht geschehen können.

Man weiß, daß der große Bernini einer von denen gewesen, die den Griechen den Vorzug einer teils schönern Natur, teils idealischen Schönheit ihrer Figuren hat streitig machen wollen. Er war außerdem der Meinung, daß die Natur allen ihren Teilen das erforderliche Schöne zu geben wisse; die Kunst bestehe darin, es zu finden. Er hat sich gerühmt, ein Vorurteil abgelegt zu haben, worin er in Ansehung des Reizes der Mediceischen Venus anfänglich gewesen, den er jedoch nach einem mühsamen Studium bei verschiedenen Gelegenheiten in der Natur wahrgenommen.

Also ist es die Venus gewesen, welche ihn Schönheiten in [11] der Natur entdecken gelehrt, die er vorher allein in jener zu finden geglaubt hat und die er ohne die Venus nicht würde in der Natur gesucht haben. Folgt nicht daraus, daß die Schönheit der griechischen Statuen eher zu entdecken ist als die Schönheit in der Natur und daß also jene rührender, nicht so sehr zerstreut, sondern mehr in eins vereinigt, als es diese ist? Das Studium der Natur muß also wenigstens ein längerer und mühsamerer Weg zur Kenntnis des vollkommenen Schönen sein, als es das Studium der Antiken ist, und Bernini hätte jungen Künstlern, die er allezeit auf das Schönste in der Natur vorzüglich wies, nicht den kürzesten Weg dazu gezeigt.

Die Nachahmung des Schönen der Natur ist entweder auf einen einzelnen Vorwurf gerichtet, oder sie sammelt die Bemerkungen aus verschiedenen einzelnen und bringt sie in eins. Jenes heißt, eine ähnliche Kopie, ein Porträt machen; es ist der Weg zu holländischen Formen und Figuren. Dieses aber ist der Weg zum allgemeinen Schönen und zu idealischen Bildern desselben, und derselbe ist es, den die Griechen genommen haben. Der Unterschied aber zwischen ihnen und uns ist dieser: die Griechen erlangten diese Bilder, wären auch dieselben nicht von schönern Körpern genommen gewesen, durch eine tägliche Gelegenheit zur Beobachtung des Schönen der Natur, die sich uns hingegen nicht alle Tage zeigt, und selten so, wie sie der Künstler wünscht.

Unsere Natur wird nicht leicht einen so vollkommenen Körper zeigen, dergleichen der Antinous Admirandus hat, und die Idee wird sich über die mehr als menschlichen Verhältnisse einer schönen Gottheit in dem vatikanischen Apollo nichts bilden können. Was Natur, Geist und Kunst hervorzubringen vermögend gewesen, liegt hier vor Augen.

Ich glaube, ihre Nachahmung könne lehren, geschwinder klug zu werden, weil sie hier in dem einen den Inbegriff desjenigen findet, was in der ganzen Natur ausgeteilt ist, und in dem andern, wie weit die schönste Natur sich über sich selbst, kühn aber weislich, erheben kann. Sie wird lehren, [12] mit Sicherheit zu denken und zu entwerfen, indem sie hier die höchsten Grenzen des menschlich und zugleich des göttlich Schönen bestimmt sieht.

Wenn der Künstler auf diesen Grund baut und sich die griechische Regel der Schönheit Hand und Sinne führen läßt, so ist er auf dem Wege, der ihn sicher zur Nachahmung der Natur führen wird. Die Begriffe des Ganzen, des Vollkommenen in der Natur des Altertums werden die Begriffe des Geteilten in unserer Natur bei ihm läutern und sinnlicher machen. Er wird bei Entdeckung der Schönheiten derselben diese mit dem vollkommenen Schönen zu verbinden wissen, und durch Hilfe der ihm beständig gegenwärtigen erhabenen Formen wird er sich selbst eine Regel werden.

Alsdann und nicht eher kann er, sonderlich der Maler, sich der Nachahmung der Natur überlassen in solchen Fällen, wo ihm die Kunst verstattet, von dem Marmor abzugehen, wie in Gewändern, und sich mehr Freiheit zu geben, wie Poussin getan; denn »derjenige, welcher beständig andern nachgeht, wird niemals vorauskommen, und welcher aus sich selbst nichts Gutes zu machen weiß, wird sich auch der Sachen von anderen nicht gut bedienen«, wie Michelangelo sagt.

Seelen, denen die Natur hold gewesen,

Quibus arte benigna

Et meliore luto finxit praecordia Titan,

haben hier den Weg vor sich offen, Originale zu werden.

In diesem Verstande ist es zu nehmen, wenn de Piles berichten will, daß Raffael zu der Zeit, da ihn der Tod übereilt, sich bestrebt habe, den Marmor zu verlassen und der Natur gänzlich nachzugehen. Der wahre Geschmack des Altertums würde ihn auch durch die gemeine Natur hindurch beständig begleitet haben, und alle Bemerkungen in derselben würden bei ihm durch eine Art einer chemischen Verwandlung dasjenige geworden sein, was sein Wesen, seine Seele ausmachte.

[13] Er würde vielleicht mehr Mannigfaltigkeit, größere Gewänder, mehr Kolorit, mehr Licht und Schatten seinen Gemälden gegeben haben, aber seine Figuren würden dennoch allezeit weniger schätzbar hierdurch, als durch den edlen Kontur und durch die erhabene Seele, die er aus den Griechen hat bilden lernen, gewesen sein.

Nichts würde den Vorzug der Nachahmung der Alten vor der Nachahmung der Natur deutlicher zeigen können, als wenn man zwei junge Leute nähme von gleich schönem Talente und den einen das Altertum, den andern die bloße Natur studieren ließe. Dieser würde die Natur bilden, wie er sie findet. Als ein Italiener würde er Figuren malen vielleicht wie Caravaggio, als ein Niederländer, wenn er glücklich ist, wie Jacob Jordaens, als ein Franzose wie Stella; jener aber würde die Natur bilden, wie sie es verlangt, und Figuren malen wie Raffael.

Könnte auch die Nachahmung der Natur dem Künstler alles geben, so würde gewiß die Richtigkeit im Kontur durch sie nicht zu erhalten sein. Diese muß von den Griechen allein erlernt werden.

Der edelste Kontur vereinigt oder umschreibt alle Teile der schönsten Natur und der idealischen Schönheiten in den Figuren der Griechen, oder er ist vielmehr der höchste Begriff in beiden. Euphranor, der nach des Zeuxis Zeiten sich hervortat, wird für den ersten gehalten, der demselben die erhabenere Manier gegeben.

Viele unter den neueren Künstlern haben den griechischen Kontur nachzuahmen gesucht, und fast niemandem ist es gelungen. Der große Rubens ist weit entfernt von dem griechischen Umrisse der Körper, und in denjenigen unter seinen Werken, die er vor seiner Reise nach Italien und vor dem Studium der Antiken gemacht hat, am weitesten.

Die Linie, welche das Völlige der Natur von dem Überflüssigen derselben scheidet, ist sehr klein, und die größten neueren Meister sind über diese nicht allezeit greifliche Grenze auf beiden Seiten zu sehr abgewichen. Derjenige, [14] welcher einen ausgehungerten Kontur vermeiden wollen, ist in die Schwulst verfallen, der diese vermeiden wollen, in das Magere.

Michelangelo ist vielleicht der einzige, von dem man sagen könnte, daß er das Altertum erreicht, aber nur in starken muskulösen Figuren, in Körpern aus der Heldenzeit, nicht in zärtlich jugendlichen, nicht in weiblichen Figuren, welche unter seiner Hand zu Amazonen geworden sind.

Der griechische Künstler hingegen hat seinen Kontur in allen Figuren wie auf die Spitze eines Haars gesetzt, auch in den feinsten und mühsamsten Arbeiten, dergleichen auf geschnittenen Steinen ist. Man betrachte den Diomedes und den Perseus des Dioskorides, den Herkules mit der Iole von der Hand des Teucer und bewundere die hier unnachahmlichen Griechen.

Parrhasius wird insgemein für den Stärksten im Kontur gehalten.

Auch unter den Gewändern der griechischen Figuren herrscht der meisterhafte Kontur, als die Hauptabsicht des Künstlers, der auch durch den Marmor hindurch den schönen Bau seines Körpers, wie durch ein koisches Kleid, zeigt.

Die im hohen Stile gearbeitete Agrippina und die drei Vestalen unter den Königlichen Antiken in Dresden verdienen hier als große Muster angeführt zu werden. Agrippina ist vermutlich nicht die Mutter des Nero, sondern die ältere Agrippina, eine Gemahlin des Germanicus. Sie hat sehr viel Ähnlichkeit mit einer vorgegebenen stehenden Statue ebendieser Agrippina in dem Vorsaale der Bibliothek zu San Marco in Venedig. Unsere ist eine sitzende Figur, größer als die Natur, mit auf die rechte Hand gestütztem Haupte. Ihr schönes Gesicht zeigt eine Seele, die in tiefe Betrachtungen versenkt und vor Sorgen und Kummer gegen alle äußeren Empfindungen fühllos scheint. Man könnte mutmaßen, der Künstler habe die Heldin in dem betrübten Augenblick vorstellen wollen, da ihr die Verweisung nach der Insel Pandataria war angekündigt worden.

[15] Die drei Vestalen sind unter einem doppelten Titel verehrungswürdig. Sie sind die ersten großen Entdeckungen von Herculanum, allein, was sie noch schätzbarer macht, ist die große Manier in ihren Gewändern. In diesem Teile der Kunst sind sie alle drei, sonderlich aber diejenige, welche größer ist als die Natur, der Farnesischen Flora und anderen griechischen Werken vom ersten Range beizusetzen. Die zwei andern, groß wie die Natur, sind einander so ähnlich, daß sie von einer und ebenderselben Hand zu sein scheinen; sie unterscheiden sich allein durch die Köpfe, welche nicht von gleicher Güte sind. An dem besten Kopfe liegen die gekräuselten Haare nach Art der Furchen geteilt, von der Stirne an bis da, wo sie hinten zusammengebunden sind. An dem andern Kopfe gehen die Haare glatt über den Scheitel, und die vorderen gekräuselten Haare sind durch ein Band gesammelt und gebunden. Es ist glaublich, daß dieser Kopf durch eine neuere, wiewohl gute Hand gearbeitet und angesetzt worden.

Das Haupt dieser beiden Figuren ist mit keinem Schleier bedeckt, welches ihnen aber den Titel der Vestalen nicht streitig macht, da erweislich ist, daß sich auch anderwärts Priesterinnen der Vesta ohne Schleier finden. Oder es scheint vielmehr aus den starken Falten des Gewandes hinten am Halse, daß der Schleier, welcher kein abgesonderter Teil vom Gewande ist, wie an der größten Vestale zu sehen, hinten übergeschlagen liege.

Es verdient der Welt bekanntgemacht zu werden, daß diese drei göttlichen Stücke die ersten Spuren gezeigt zur nachfolgenden Entdeckung der unterirdischen Schätze von der Stadt Herculanum.

Sie kamen an das Tageslicht, da noch das Andenken derselben gleichsam unter der Vergessenheit, so wie die Stadt selbst unter ihren eigenen Ruinen, vergraben und verschüttet lag, zu der Zeit, da das traurige Schicksal, welches diesen Ort betroffen, nur fast noch allein durch des jüngern Plinius Nachricht von dem Ende seines Vetters, welches ihn in der [16] Verwüstung von Herculanum zugleich mit übereilte, bekannt war.

Diese großen Meisterstücke der griechischen Kunst wurden schon unter den deutschen Himmel versetzt und daselbst verehrt, da Neapel noch nicht das Glück hatte, ein einziges herculanisches Denkmal, soviel man erfahren können, aufzuweisen.

Sie wurden im Jahr 1706 in Portici bei Neapel in einem verschütteten Gewölbe gefunden, da man den Grund grub zu einem Landhause des Prinzen von Elbeuf, und sie kamen unmittelbar hernach, nebst andern daselbst entdeckten Statuen in Marmor und Erz, in den Besitz des Prinzen Eugen nach Wien.

Dieser große Kenner der Künste, um einen vorzüglichen Ort zu haben, wo dieselben könnten aufgestellt werden, hat vornehmlich für diese drei Figuren eine Sala terrena bauen lassen, wo sie nebst einigen andern Statuen ihren Platz bekommen haben. Die ganze Akademie und alle Künstler in Wien waren gleichsam in Empörung, da man nur noch ganz dunkel von derselben Verkauf sprach, und ein jeder sah denselben mit betrübten Augen nach, als sie von Wien nach Dresden fortgeführt wurden.

Der berühmte Matielli, dem Polyklet das Maß und Phidias das Eisen gab (Algarotti), hat, ehe noch dieses geschah, alle drei Vestalen mit dem mühsamsten Fleiße in Ton kopiert, um sich den Verlust derselben dadurch zu ersetzen. Er folgte ihnen einige Jahre hernach und erfüllte Dresden mit ewigen Werken seiner Kunst, aber seine Priesterinnen blieben auch hier sein Studium in der Draperie, worin seine Stärke bestand bis in sein Alter, welches zugleich ein nicht ungegründetes Vorurteil ihrer Trefflichkeit ist.

Unter dem Wort Draperie begreift man alles, was die Kunst von Bekleidung des Nackenden der Figuren und von gebrochenen Gewändern lehrt. Diese Wissenschaft ist nach der schönen Natur und nach dem edlen Kontur der dritte Vorzug der Werke des Altertums.

[17] Die Draperie der Vestalen ist in der höchsten Manier. Die kleinen Brüche entstehen durch einen sanften Schwung aus den größten Partien und verlieren sich wieder in diesen mit einer edlen Freiheit und sanften Harmonie des Ganzen, ohne den schönen Kontur des Nackenden zu verstecken. Wie wenig neuere Meister sind in diesem Teile der Kunst ohne Tadel!

Diese Gerechtigkeit aber muß man einigen großen Künstlern, sonderlich Malern neuerer Zeiten, widerfahren lassen, daß sie in gewissen Fällen von dem Wege, den die griechischen Meister in Bekleidung ihrer Figuren am gewöhnlichsten gehalten haben, ohne Nachteil der Natur und Wahrheit abgegangen sind. Die griechische Draperie ist meistenteils nach dünnen und nassen Gewändern gearbeitet, die sich folglich, wie Künstler wissen, dicht an die Haut und an den Körper schließen und das Nackende desselben sehen lassen. Das ganze oberste Gewand des griechischen Frauenzimmers war ein sehr dünnes Zeug; es hieß daher Peplon, ein Schleier.

Daß die Alten nicht allezeit fein gebrochene Gewänder gemacht haben, zeigen die erhobenen Arbeiten derselben, die alten Malereien und sonderlich die alten Brustbilder. Der schöne Caracalla unter den Königlichen Antiken in Dresden kann dieses bestätigen.

In den neuern Zeiten hat man ein Gewand über das andere, und zuweilen schwere Gewänder, zu legen gehabt, die nicht in so sanfte und fließende Brüche, wie der Alten ihre sind, fallen können. Dieses gab folglich Anlaß zu der neuen Manier der großen Partien in Gewändern, in welcher der Meister seine Wissenschaft nicht weniger als in der gewöhnlichen Manier der Alten zeigen kann.

Carl Maratta und Franz Solimena können in dieser Art für die Größten gehalten werden. Die neue venezianische Schule, welche noch weiter zu gehen gesucht, hat diese Manier übertrieben, und indem sie nichts als große Partien gesucht, sind ihre Gewänder dadurch steif und blechern worden.

Das allgemeine vorzügliche Kennzeichen der griechischen Meisterstücke ist endlich eine edle Einfalt und eine stille [18] Größe, sowohl in der Stellung als im Ausdruck. So wie die Tiefe des Meeres allezeit ruhig bleibt, die Oberfläche mag noch so wüten, ebenso zeigt der Ausdruck in den Figuren der Griechen bei allen Leidenschaften eine große und gesetzte Seele. Diese Seele schildert sich in dem Gesichte des Laokoon, und nicht in dem Gesichte allein, bei dem heftigsten Leiden. Der Schmerz, welcher sich in allen Muskeln und Sehnen des Körpers entdeckt und den man ganz allein, ohne das Gesicht und andere Teile zu betrachten, an dem schmerzlich eingezogenen Unterleibe beinahe selbst zu empfinden glaubt, dieser Schmerz, sage ich, äußert sich dennoch mit keiner Wut in dem Gesichte und in der ganzen Stellung. Er erhebt kein schreckliches Geschrei, wie Virgil von seinem Laokoon singt. Die Öffnung des Mundes gestattet es nicht; es ist vielmehr ein ängstliches und beklemmtes Seufzen, wie es Sadolet beschreibt. Der Schmerz des Körpers und die Größe der Seele sind durch den ganzen Bau der Figur mit gleicher Stärke ausgeteilt und gleichsam abgewogen. Laokoon leidet, aber er leidet wie des Sophokles Philoktetes: sein Elend geht uns bis an die Seele, aber wir wünschten, wie dieser große Mann das Elend ertragen zu können.

Der Ausdruck einer so großen Seele geht weit über die Bildung der schönen Natur: der Künstler mußte die Stärke des Geistes in sich selbst fühlen, welche er seinem Marmor einprägte. Griechenland hatte Künstler und Weltweise in einer Person und mehr als einen Metrodor. Die Weisheit reichte der Kunst die Hand und blies den Figuren derselben mehr als gemeine Seelen ein.

Unter einem Gewande, welches der Künstler dem Laokoon als einem Priester hätte geben sollen, würde uns sein Schmerz nur halb so sinnlich gewesen sein. Bernini hat sogar den Anfang der Wirkung des Gifts der Schlange in dem einen Schenkel des Laokoon an der Erstarrung desselben entdecken wollen.

Alle Handlungen und Stellungen der griechischen Figuren, die mit diesem Charakter der Weisheit nicht bezeichnet, sondern [19] gar zu feurig und wild waren, verfielen in einen Fehler, den die alten Künstler »Parenthyrsis« nannten.

Je ruhiger der Stand des Körpers ist, desto geschickter ist er, den wahren Charakter der Seele zu schildern. In allen Stellungen, die von dem Stande der Ruhe zu sehr abweichen, befindet sich die Seele nicht in dem Zustande, der ihr der eigentlichste ist, sondern in einem gewaltsamen und erzwungenen Zustande. Kenntlicher und bezeichnender wird die Seele in heftigen Leidenschaften, groß aber und edel ist sie in dem Stande der Einheit, in dem Stande der Ruhe. Im Laokoon würde der Schmerz, allein gebildet, Parenthyrsis gewesen sein; der Künstler gab ihm daher, um das Bezeichnende und das Edle der Seele in eins zu vereinigen, eine Aktion, die dem Stande der Ruhe in solchem Schmerze der nächste war. Aber in dieser Ruhe muß die Seele durch Züge, die ihr und keiner andern Seele eigen sind, bezeichnet werden, um sie ruhig, aber zugleich wirksam, stille, aber nicht gleichgültig oder schläfrig zu bilden.

Das wahre Gegenteil und das diesem entgegenstehende äußerste Ende ist der gemeinste Geschmack der heutigen, sonderlich [der] angehenden Künstler. Ihren Beifall verdient nichts, als worin ungewöhnliche Stellungen und Handlungen, die ein freches Feuer begleitet, herrschen, welches sie mit Geist, mit Franchezza, wie sie reden, ausgeführt heißen. Der Liebling ihrer Begriffe ist der Kontrapost, der bei ihnen der Inbegriff aller selbst gebildeten Eigenschaften eines vollkommenen Werks der Kunst ist. Sie verlangen eine Seele in ihren Figuren, die wie ein Komet aus ihrem Kreise weicht; sie wünschen in jeder Figur einen Ajax und einen Capaneus zu sehen.

Die schönen Künste haben ihre Jugend sowohl wie die Menschen, und der Anfang dieser Künste scheint wie der Anfang bei Künstlern gewesen zu sein, wo nur das Hochtrabende, das Erstaunende gefällt. Sol che Gestalt hatte die tragische Muse des Äschylus, und sein Agamemnon ist zum Teil durch Hyperbolen viel dunkler geworden als alles, was [20] Heraklit geschrieben. Vielleicht haben die ersten griechischen Maler nicht anders gezeichnet, als ihr erster guter Tragikus gedichtet hat.

Das Heftige, das Flüchtige geht in allen menschlichen Handlungen voran; das Gesetzte, das Gründliche folgt zuletzt. Dieses letztere aber gebraucht Zeit, es zu bewundern; es ist nur großen Meistern eigen; heftige Leidenschaften sind ein Vorteil auch für ihre Schüler.

Die Weisen in der Kunst wissen, wie schwer dieses scheinbare Nachahmliche ist,

... ut sibi quivis

Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret

Ausus idem.

La Fage, der große Zeichner, hat den Geschmack der Alten nicht erreichen können. Alles ist in Bewegung in seinen Werken, und man wird in der Betrachtung derselben geteilt und zerstreut, wie in einer Gesellschaft, wo alle Personen zugleich reden wollen.

Die edle Einfalt und stille Größe der griechischen Statuen ist zugleich das wahre Kennzeichen der griechischen Schriften aus den besten Zeiten, der Schriften aus Sokrates' Schule, und diese Eigenschaften sind es, welche die vorzügliche Größe eines Raffael machen, zu welcher er durch die Nachahmung der Alten gelangt ist.

Eine so schöne Seele, wie die seinige war, in einem so schönen Körper wurde erfordert, den wahren Charakter der Alten in neueren Zeiten zuerst zu empfinden und zu entdecken, und was sein größtes Glück war, schon in einem Alter, in welchem gemeine und halbgeformte Seelen über die wahre Größe ohne Empfindung bleiben.

Mit einem Auge, welches diese Schönheiten empfinden gelernt, mit diesem wahren Geschmacke des Altertums muß man sich seinen Werken nähern. Alsdann wird uns die Ruhe und Stille der Hauptfiguren in Raffaels Attila, welche vielen leblos scheinen, sehr bedeutend und erhaben sein. Der römische [21] Bischof, der das Vorhaben des Königs der Hunnen, auf Rom loszugehen, abwendet, erscheint nicht mit Gebärden und Bewegungen eines Redners, sondern als ein ehrwürdiger Mann, der bloß durch seine Gegenwart einen Aufruhr stillt, wie derjenige, den uns Virgil beschreibt,

Tum pietate gravem ac meritis si forte virum quem

Conspexere, silent arrectisque auribus adstand,

mit einem Gesichte voll göttlicher Zuversicht vor den Augen des Wüterichs. Die beiden Apostel schweben nicht wie Würgeengel in den Wolken, sondern, wenn es erlaubt ist, das Heilige mit dem Unheiligen zu vergleichen, wie Homers Jupiter, der durch das Winken seiner Augenlider den Olympus erschüttern macht.

Algardi, in seiner berühmten Vorstellung ebendieser Geschichte, in halb erhobener Arbeit an einem Altar der St. Peterskirche in Rom, hat die wirksame Stille seines großen Vorgängers den Figuren seiner beiden Apostel nicht gegeben oder zu geben verstanden. Dort erscheinen sie wie Gesandte des Herrn der Heerscharen, hier wie sterbliche Krieger mit menschlichen Waffen.

Wie wenig Kenner hat der schöne St. Michael des Guido Reni in der Kapuzinerkirche zu Rom gefunden, welche die Größe des Ausdrucks, die der Künstler seinem Erzengel gegeben, einzusehen vermögend gewesen! Man gibt des Conca seinem Michael den Preis vor jenem, weil er Unwillen und Rache im Gesichte zeigt, anstatt daß jener, nachdem er den Feind Gottes und der Menschen gestürzt, ohne Erbitterung mit einer heiteren und ungerührten Miene über ihm schwebt.

Ebenso ruhig und stille malt der englische Dichter den rächenden Engel, der über Britannien schwebt, mit welchem er den Helden seines Feldzugs, den Sieger bei Blenheim, vergleicht.

Die Königliche Galerie der Schildereien in Dresden enthält nunmehr unter ihren Schätzen ein würdiges Werk von [22] Raffaels Hand, und zwar von seiner besten Zeit, wie Vasari und andere mehr bezeugen. Eine Madonna mit dem Kinde, dem h. Sixtus und der h. Barbara, kniend auf beiden Seiten, nebst zwei Engeln im Vordergrunde.

Es war dieses Bild das Hauptaltarblatt des Klosters St. Sixti in Piacenza. Liebhaber und Kenner der Kunst gingen dahin, um diesen Raffael zu sehen, so wie man nur allein nach Thespiä reiste, den schönen Cupido von der Hand des Praxiteles daselbst zu betrachten.

Seht die Madonna, mit einem Gesichte voll Unschuld und zugleich einer mehr als weiblichen Größe, in einer selig ruhigen Stellung, in derjenigen Stille, welche die Alten in den Bildern ihrer Gottheiten herrschen ließen. Wie groß und edel ist ihr ganzer Kontur!

Das Kind auf ihren Armen ist ein Kind, über gemeine Kinder erhaben durch ein Gesicht, aus welchem ein Strahl der Gottheit durch die Unschuld der Kindheit hervorzuleuchten scheint.

Die Heilige unter ihr kniet ihr zur Seite in einer anbetenden Stille ihrer Seele, aber weit unter der Majestät der Hauptfigur, welche Erniedrigung der große Meister durch den sanften Reiz in ihrem Gesichte er setzt hat.

Der Heilige dieser Figur gegenüber ist der ehrwürdigste Alte, mit Gesichtszügen, die von seiner Gott geweihten Jugend zu zeugen scheinen.

Die Ehrfurcht der h. Barbara gegen die Madonna, welche durch ihre an die Brust gedrückten schönen Hände sinnlicher und rührender gemacht ist, hilft bei dem Heiligen die Bewegung seiner einen Hand ausdrücken. Ebendiese Aktion malt uns die Entzückung des Heiligen, welche der Künstler zu mehrerer Mannigfaltigkeit, weislicher der männlichen Stärke als der weiblichen Züchtigkeit, [hat] geben wollen.

Die Zeit hat allerdings vieles von dem scheinbaren Glanze dieses Gemäldes geraubt, und die Kraft der Farben ist zum Teil ausgewittert, allein die Seele, welche der Schöpfer dem Werke seiner Hände eingeblasen, belebt es noch jetzt.

[23] Alle diejenigen, welche zu diesem und andern Werken Raffaels treten, in der Hoffnung, die kleinen Schönheiten anzutreffen, die den Arbeiten der niederländischen Maler einen so hohen Preis geben, den mühsamen Fleiß eines Netscher oder eines Dou, das elfenbeinerne Fleisch eines van der Werff oder auch die geleckte Manier einiger von Raffaels Landsleuten unserer Zeit, diese, sage ich, werden den großen Raffael in dem Raffael vergebens suchen.

Nach dem Studium der schönen Natur, des Konturs, der Draperie und der edlen Einfalt und stillen Größe in den Werken griechischer Meister wäre die Nachforschung über ihre Art zu arbeiten ein nötiges Augenmerk der Künstler, um in der Nachahmung derselben glücklicher zu sein.

Es ist bekannt, daß sie ihre ersten Modelle meistenteils in Wachs gemacht haben; die neuern Meister aber haben anstatt dessen Ton oder dergleichen geschmeidige Massen gewählt. Sie fanden dieselben, sonderlich um das Fleisch auszudrücken, geschickter als das Wachs, welches ihnen hierzu gar zu klebrig und zähe schien.

Man will unterdessen nicht behaupten, daß die Art, in nassen Ton zu bilden, den Griechen unbekannt oder nicht üblich bei ihnen gewesen. Man weiß sogar den Namen desjenigen, welcher den ersten Versuch hierin gemacht hat. Dibutades von Sikyon ist der erste Meister einer Figur in Ton, und Arcesilaus, der Freund des großen Lucullus, ist mehr durch seine Modelle in Ton als durch seine Werke selbst berühmt worden. Er machte für den Lucullus eine Figur in Ton, welche die Glückseligkeit vorstellte, die dieser mit 60 000 Sesterzen erhandelt hatte, und der Ritter Octavius gab ebendiesem Künstler ein Talent für ein bloßes Modell in Gips zu einer großen Tasse, die jener wollte in Gold arbeiten lassen.

Der Ton wäre die geschickteste Materie, Figuren zu bilden, wenn er seine Feuchtigkeit behielte. Da ihm aber diese entgeht, wenn er trocken und gebrannt wird, so werden folglich die festeren Teile desselben näher zusammentreten, und [24] die Figur wird an ihrer Masse verlieren und einen engeren Raum einnehmen. Litte die Figur diese Verminderung in gleichem Grade in allen ihren Punkten und Teilen, so bliebe ebendasselbe, obgleich verminderte Verhältnis. Die kleinen Teile derselben aber werden geschwinder trocken als die größeren, und der Leib der Figur, als der stärkste Teil, am spätesten; und jenen wird also in gleicher Zeit mehr an ihrer Masse fehlen als diesem.

Das Wachs hat diese Unbequemlichkeit nicht; es verschwindet nichts davon, und es kann demselben die Glätte des Fleisches, die es im Poussieren nicht ohne große Mühe annehmen will, durch einen andern Weg gegeben werden.

Man macht sein Modell von Ton; man formt es in Gips und gießt es alsdann in Wachs.

Die eigentliche Art der Griechen aber, nach ihren Modellen in Marmor zu arbeiten, scheint nicht diejenige gewesen zu sein, welche unter den meisten heutigen Künstlern üblich ist. In dem Marmor der Alten entdeckt sich allenthalben die Gewißheit und Zuversicht des Meisters, und man wird auch in ihren Werken von niedrigem Range nicht leicht dartun können, daß irgendwo etwas zuviel weggehauen worden. Diese sichere und richtige Hand der Griechen muß durch bestimmtere und zuverlässigere Regeln, als bei uns gebräuchlich sind, notwendig geführt worden sein.

Der gewöhnliche Weg unserer Bildhauer ist, über ihre Modelle, nachdem sie dieselben wohl ausstudiert und aufs beste geformt haben, Horizontal- und Perpendikularlinien zu ziehen, die folglich einander durchschneiden. Alsdann verfahren sie, wie man ein Gemälde durch ein Gitter verjüngt und vergrößert, und ebensoviel einander durchschneidende Linien werden auf den Stein getragen.

Es zeigt also ein jedes kleine Viereck des Modells seine Flächenmaße auf jedes große Viereck des Steins an. Allein weil dadurch nicht der körperliche Inhalt bestimmt werden kann, folglich auch weder der rechte Grad der Erhöhung und Vertiefung des Modells hier gar genau zu beschreiben [25] ist, so wird der Künstler zwar seiner künftigen Figur ein gewisses Verhältnis des Modells geben können, aber da er sich nur der Kenntnis seines Auges überlassen muß, so wird er beständig zweifelhaft bleiben, ob er zu tief oder zu flach nach seinem Entwurf gearbeitet, ob er zuviel oder zuwenig Masse weggenommen.

Er kann auch weder den äußeren Umriß, noch denjenigen, welcher die inneren Teile des Modells, oder diejenigen, welche gegen die Mitte zu gehen, oft nur wie mit einem Hauch anzeigt, durch solche Linien bestimmen, durch die er ganz untrüglich und ohne die geringste Abweichung ebendieselben Umrisse auf seinen Stein entwerfen könnte.

Hierzu kommt, daß in einer weitläufigen Arbeit, welche der Bildhauer allein nicht bestreiten kann, er sich der Hand seiner Gehilfen bedienen muß, die nicht allezeit geschickt sind, die Absichten von jenem zu erreichen. Geschieht es, daß einmal etwas verhauen ist, weil unmöglich nach dieser Art Grenzen der Tiefen können gesetzt werden, so ist der Fehler unersetzlich.

Überhaupt ist hier zu merken, daß derjenige Bildhauer, der schon bei der ersten Bearbeitung seines Steins seine Tiefen bohrt, so weit als sie reichen sollen, und dieselben nicht nach und nach sucht, so, daß sie durch die letzte Hand allererst ihre gesetzte Höhlung erhalten, daß dieser, sage ich, niemals wird sein Werk von Fehlern reinigen können.

Es findet sich auch hier dieser Hauptmangel, daß die auf den Stein getragenen Linien alle Augenblicke weggehauen und ebensooft, nicht ohne Besorgnis der Abweichung, von neuem müssen gezogen und ergänzt werden.

Die Ungewißheit, nach dieser Art, nötigte also die Künstler, einen sicherern Weg zu suchen, und derjenige, welchen die französische Akademie in Rom erfunden und zum Kopieren der alten Statuen zuerst gebraucht hat, wurde von vielen, auch im Arbeiten nach Modellen, angenommen.

Man befestigt nämlich über einer Statue, die man kopieren will, nach dem Verhältnis derselben ein Viereck, von welchem [26] man nach gleich eingeteilten Graden Bleifäden herunterfallen läßt. Durch diese Fäden werden die äußersten Punkte der Figur deutlicher bezeichnet, als in der ersten Art durch Linien auf der Fläche, wo ein jeder Punkt der äußerste ist, geschehen konnte. Sie geben auch dem Künstler ein sinnlicheres Maß von einigen der stärksten Erhöhungen und Vertiefungen durch die Grade ihrer Entfernung von Teilen, welche sie decken, und er kann durch Hilfe derselben etwas herzhafter gehen.

Da aber der Schwung einer krummen Linie durch eine einzige gerade Linie nicht genau zu bestimmen ist, so werden ebenfalls die Umrisse der Figur durch diesen Weg sehr zweifelhaft für den Künstler angedeutet, und in geringen Abweichungen von ihrer Hauptfläche wird sich derselbe alle Augenblicke ohne Leitfaden und ohne Hilfe sehen.

Es ist sehr begreiflich, daß in dieser Manier auch das wahre Verhältnis der Figuren schwer zu finden ist. Man sucht dieselben durch Horizontallinien, welche die Bleifäden durchschneiden. Die Lichtstrahlen aber aus den Vierecken, die diese von der Figur abstehenden Linien machen, werden unter einem desto größeren Winkel ins Auge fallen, folglich größer erscheinen, je höher oder tiefer sie unserem Sehpunkte sind.

Zum Kopieren der Antiken, mit denen man nicht nach Gefallen umgehen kann, behalten die Bleifäden noch bis jetzt ihren Wert, und man hat diese Arbeit noch nicht leichter und sicherer machen können; aber im Arbeiten nach einem Modell ist dieser Weg aus angezeigten Gründen nicht bestimmt genug.

Michelangelo hat einen vor ihm unbekannten Weg genommen, und man muß sich wundern, da ihn die Bildhauer als ihren großen Meister verehren, daß vielleicht niemand unter ihnen sein Nachfolger geworden ist.

Dieser Phidias neuerer Zeiten, und der größte nach den Griechen, ist, wie man vermuten könnte, auf die wahre Spur seiner großen Lehrer gekommen, wenigstens ist kein anderes [27] Mittel der Welt bekannt geworden, alle möglichen sinnlichen Teile und Schönheiten des Modells auf die Figur selbst hinüberzutragen und auszudrücken.

Vasari hat die Erfindung desselben etwas unvollkommen beschrieben. Der Begriff nach dessen Bericht ist folgender:

Michelangelo nahm ein Gefäß mit Wasser, in welches er sein Modell von Wachs oder von einer harten Materie legte. Er erhöhte dasselbe allmählich bis zur Oberfläche des Wassers. Also entdeckten sich zuerst die erhobenen Teile, und die vertieften waren bedeckt, bis endlich das ganze Modell bloß und außer dem Wasser lag. Auf eben die Art, sagt Vasari, arbeitete Michelangelo seinen Marmor; er deutete zuerst die erhobenen Teile an und nach und nach die tieferen.

Es scheint, Vasari habe entweder von der Manier seines Freundes nicht den deutlichsten Begriff gehabt, oder die Nachlässigkeit in seiner Erzählung verursacht, daß man sich dieselbe etwas verschieden von dem, was er berichtet, vorstellen muß.

Die Form des Wassergefäßes ist hier nicht deutlich genug bestimmt. Die nach und nach geschehene Erhebung seines Modells aus dem Wasser von unten auf würde sehr mühsam sein und setzt viel mehr voraus, als uns der Geschichtsschreiber der Künstler hat wollen wissen lassen.

Man kann überzeugt sein, daß Michelangelo diesen von ihm erfundenen Weg werde aufs möglichste ausstudiert und sich bequem gemacht haben. Er ist aller Wahrscheinlichkeit nach folgendergestalt verfahren:

Der Künstler nahm ein Gefäß nach der Form der Masse zu seiner Figur, die wir ein langes Viereck setzen wollen. Er bezeichnete die Oberfläche der Seiten dieses viereckigen Kastens mit gewissen Abteilungen, die er nach einem vergrößerten Maßstabe auf seinen Stein hinübertrug, und außerdem bemerkte er die inwendigen Seiten desselben von oben bis auf den Grund mit gewissen Graden. In den Kasten legte er sein Modell von schwerer Materie oder befestigte es an dem Boden, wenn es von Wachs war. Er bespannte etwa den [28] Kasten mit einem Gitter nach den gemachten Abteilungen, nach welchen er Linien auf seinen Stein zeichnete und vermutlich unmittelbar hernach seine Figur. Auf das Modell goß er Wasser, bis es an die äußersten Punkte der erhobenen Teile reichte, und nachdem er denjenigen Teil bemerkt hatte, der auf seiner gezeichneten Figur erhoben werden mußte, ließ er ein gewisses Maß Wasser ab, um den erhobenen Teil des Modells etwas weiter hervorgehen zu lassen, und fing alsdann an, diesen Teil zu bearbeiten, nach dem Maße der Grade, wie er sich entdeckte. War zu gleicher Zeit ein anderer Teil seines Modells sichtbar geworden, so wurde er auch, soweit er bloß war, bearbeitet, und so verfuhr er mit allen erhobenen Teilen.

Es wurde mehr Wasser abgelassen, bis auch die Vertiefungen hervorlagen. Die Grade des Kastens zeigten ihm allemal die Höhe des gefallenen Wassers und die Fläche des Wassers die äußerste Grundlinie der Tiefen an. Ebensoviel Grade auf seinem Steine waren seine wahren Maße.

Das Wasser beschrieb ihm nicht allein die Höhen und Tiefen, sondern auch den Kontur seines Modells, und der Raum von den inneren Seiten des Kastens bis an den Umriß der Linie des Wassers, dessen Größe die Grade der anderen zwei Seiten gaben, war in jedem Punkte das Maß, wieviel er von seinem Steine wegnehmen konnte.

Sein Werk hatte nunmehr die erste, aber richtige Form erhalten. Die Fläche des Wassers hatte ihm eine Linie beschrieben, von welcher die äußersten Punkte der Erhobenheiten Teile sind. Diese Linie war mit dem Falle des Wassers in seinem Gefäße gleichfalls waagerecht fortgerückt, und der Künstler war dieser Bewegung mit seinem Eisen gefolgt, bis dahin, wo ihm das Wasser den niedrigsten Abhang der erhobenen Teile, der mit den Flächen zusammenfließt, bloß zeigte. Er war also mit jedem verjüngten Grade in dem Kasten seines Modells einen gleichgesetzten größeren Grad auf seiner Figur fortgegangen, und auf diese Art hatte ihn die Linie des Wassers bis über den äußersten Kontur in seiner

[29] Arbeit geführt, so daß das Modell nunmehr vom Wasser entblößt lag.

Seine Figur verlangte die schöne Form. Er goß von neuem Wasser auf sein Modell, bis zu einer ihm dienlichen Höhe, und alsdann zählte er die Grade des Kastens bis auf die Linie, welche das Wasser beschrieb, wodurch er die Höhe des erhobenen Teils ersah. Auf ebendenselben erhobenen Teil seiner Figur legte er sein Richtscheit vollkommen waagerecht, und von der untersten Linie desselben nahm er die Maße bis auf die Vertiefung. Fand er eine gleiche Anzahl verjüngter und größerer Grade, so war dieses eine Art geometrischer Berechnung des Inhalts, und er erhielt den Beweis, daß er richtig verfahren war.

Bei der Wiederholung seiner Arbeit suchte er den Druck und die Bewegung der Muskeln und Sehnen, den Schwung der übrigen kleinen Teile und das Feinste der Kunst in seinem Modelle auch in seiner Figur auszuführen. Das Wasser, welches sich auch an die unmerklichsten Teile legte, zog den Schwung derselben aufs schärfste nach und beschrieb ihm mit der richtigsten Linie den Kontur derselben.

Dieser Weg verhindert nicht, dem Modelle alle möglichen Lagen zu geben. Ins Profil gelegt, wird es dem Künstler vollends entdecken, was er übersehen hat. Es wird ihm auch den äußeren Kontur seiner erhobenen und seiner inneren Teile und den ganzen Durchschnitt zeigen.

Alles dieses und die Hoffnung eines guten Erfolgs der Arbeit setzt ein Modell voraus, welches mit Händen der Kunst nach dem wahren Geschmacke des Altertums gebildet worden.

Dieses ist die Bahn, auf welcher Michelangelo bis zu Unsterblichkeit gelangt ist. Sein Ruf und seine Belohnungen erlaubten ihm Muße, mit solcher Sorgfalt zu arbeiten.

Ein Künstler unserer Zeiten, dem Natur und Fleiß Gaben verliehen, höher zu steigen, und welcher Wahrheit und Richtigkeit in dieser Manier findet, sieht sich genötigt, mehr nach Brot als nach Ehre zu arbeiten. Er bleibt also in dem ihm [30] üblichen Gleise, worin er eine größere Fertigkeit zu zeigen glaubt, und fährt fort, sein durch langwierige Übung erlangtes Augenmaß zu seiner Regel zu nehmen.

Dieses Augenmaß, welches ihn vornehmlich führen muß, ist endlich durch praktische Wege, die zum Teil sehr zweifelhaft sind, ziemlich entscheidend geworden. Wie fein und zuverlässig würde er es gemacht haben, wenn er es von Jugend auf nach untrüglichen Regeln gebildet hätte?

Würden angehende Künstler, bei der ersten Anführung, in Ton oder in andere Materie zu arbeiten, nach dieser sichern Manier des Michelangelo angewiesen, die dieser nach langem Forschen gefunden, so könnten sie hoffen, so nahe wie er den Griechen zu kommen.

Alles, was zum Preise der griechischen Werke in der Bildhauerkunst kann gesagt werden, sollte nach aller Wahrscheinlichkeit auch von der Malerei der Griechen gelten. Die Zeit aber und die Wut der Menschen hat uns die Mittel geraubt, einen unumstößlichen Ausspruch darüber zu tun.

Man gesteht den griechischen Malern Zeichnung und Ausdruck zu, und das ist alles; Perspektive, Komposition und Kolorit spricht man ihnen ab. Dieses Urteil gründet sich teils auf halb erhobene Arbeiten, teils auf die entdeckten Malereien der Alten (der Griechen kann man nicht sagen) in und bei Rom, in unterirdischen Gewölben der Paläste des Mäcenas, des Titus, Trajans und der Antoninen, von welchen nicht viel über dreißig bis jetzt ganz erhalten worden, und einige sind nur in mosaischer Arbeit.

Turnbull hat seinem Werke von der alten Malerei eine Sammlung der bekanntesten Stücke, von Camillo Paderni gezeichnet und von Mynde gestochen, beigefügt, welche dem prächtigen und gemißbrauchten Papier seines Buchs den einzigen Wert geben. Unter denselben sind zwei, wovon die Originale selbst in dem Kabinett des berühmten Arztes Richard Meads in London sind.

Daß Poussin nach der sogenannten Aldobrandinischen Hochzeit studiert, daß sich noch Zeichnungen finden, die [31] Annibale Carracci nach dem vorgegebenen Marcus Coriolanus gemacht, und daß man eine große Gleichheit unter den Köpfen in [des] Guido Reni Werken und unter den Köpfen auf der bekannten mosaischen Entführung der Europa hat finden wollen, ist bereits von andern bemerkt.

Wenn dergleichen Freskogemälde ein gegründetes Urteil von der Malerei der Alten geben könnte, so würde man den Künstlern unter ihnen aus Überbleibseln von dieser Art auch die Zeichnung und den Ausdruck streitig machen wollen.

Die von den Wänden des herculanischen Theaters mitsamt der Mauer versetzten Malereien mit Figuren in Lebensgröße geben uns, wie man versichert, einen schlechten Begriff davon. Der Theseus, als ein Überwinder des Minotauren, wie ihm die jungen Athenienser die Hände küssen und seine Knie umfassen, die Flora nebst dem Herkules und einem Faun, der vorgegebene Gerichtsspruch des Dezemvirs Appius Claudius sind nach dem Augenzeugnis eines Künstlers zum Teil mittelmäßig und zum Teil fehlerhaft gezeichnet. In den meisten Köpfen ist, wie man versichert, nicht allein kein Ausdruck, sondern in dem Appius Claudius sind auch keine guten Charaktere.

Aber eben dieses beweist, daß es Malereien von der Hand sehr mittelmäßiger Meister sind, da die Wissenschaft der schönen Verhältnisse, der Umrisse der Körper und des Ausdrucks bei griechischen Bildhauern auch ihren guten Malern eigen gewesen sein muß.

Diese den alten Malern zugestandenen Teile der Kunst lassen den neuern Malern noch sehr viel Verdienste um dieselbe.

In der Perspektive gehört ihnen der Vorzug unstreitig, und er bleibt, bei aller gelehrten Verteidigung der Alten, in Ansehung dieser Wissenschaft, auf seiten der Neueren. Die Gesetze der Komposition und Anordnung waren den Alten nur zum Teil und unvollkommen bekannt, wie die erhobenen Arbeiten von Zeiten, wo die griechischen Künste in Rom geblüht, dartun können.

[32] In dem Kolorit scheinen die Nachrichten in den Schriften der Alten und die Überbleibsel der alten Malerei auch zum Vorteil der neuern Künstler zu entscheiden.

Verschiedene Arten von Vorstellungen der Malerei sind gleichfalls zu einem höheren Grade der Vollkommenheit in neuern Zeiten gelangt. In Viehstücken und Landschaften haben unsere Maler allem Ansehen nach die alten Maler übertroffen. Die schönern Arten von Tieren unter andern Himmelsstrichen scheinen ihnen nicht bekannt gewesen zu sein, wenn man aus einzelnen Fällen, von dem Pferde des Marcus Aurelius, von den beiden Pferden auf Monte Cavallo, ja von den vorgegebenen Lysippischen Pferden über dem Portal der St. Marcuskirche in Venedig, von dem Farnesischen Stier und den übrigen Tieren dieses Grupps, schließen darf.

Es ist hier im Vorbeigehen anzuführen, daß die Alten bei ihren Pferden die diametralische Bewegung der Beine nicht beobachtet haben, wie an den Pferden in Venedig und auf alten Münzen zu sehen ist. Einige Neuere sind ihnen hierin aus Unwissenheit gefolgt und sogar verteidigt worden.

Unsere Landschaften, sonderlich die niederländischen Maler, haben ihre Schönheit vornehmlich dem Ölmalen zu danken; ihre Farben haben dadurch mehr Kraft, Freudigkeit und Erhobenheit erlangt, und die Natur selbst unter einem dickern und feuchtern Himmel hat zur Erweiterung der Kunst in dieser Art nicht wenig beigetragen.

Es verdienten die angezeigten und einige andere Vorzüge der neuern Maler vor den alten in ein größeres Licht, durch gründlichere Beweise, als noch bisher geschehen ist, gesetzt zu werden.

Zur Erweiterung der Kunst ist noch ein großer Schritt übrig zu tun. Der Künstler, welcher von der gemeinen Bahn abzuweichen anfängt oder wirklich abgewichen ist, sucht diesen Schritt zu wagen; aber sein Fuß bleibt an dem jähesten Orte der Kunst stehen, und hier sieht er sich hilflos.

[33] Die Geschichte der Heiligen, die Fabeln und Verwandlungen sind der ewige und fast einzige Vorwurf der neuern Maler seit einigen Jahrhunderten. Man hat sie auf tausenderlei Art gewandt und ausgekünstelt, so daß endlich Überdruß und Ekel den Weisen in der Kunst und den Kenner überfallen muß.

Ein Künstler, der eine Seele hat, die denken gelernt, läßt dieselbe müßig und ohne Beschäftigung bei einer Daphne und bei einem Apollo, bei einer Entführung der Proserpina, einer Europa und bei dergleichen. Er sucht sich als einen Dichter zu zeigen und Figuren durch Bilder, das ist allegorisch, zu malen.

Die Malerei erstreckt sich auch auf Dinge, die nicht sinnlich sind; diese sind ihr höchstes Ziel, und die Griechen haben sich bemüht, dasselbe zu erreichen, wie die Schriften der Alten bezeugen. Parrhasius, ein Maler, der wie Aristides die Seele schilderte, hat sogar, wie man sagt, den Charakter eines ganzen Volks ausdrücken können. Er malte die Athenienser, wie sie gütig und zugleich grausam, leichtsinnig und zugleich hartnäckig, brav und zugleich feige waren. Scheint die Vorstellung möglich, so ist es nur allein durch den Weg der Allegorie, durch Bilder, die allgemeine Begriffe bedeuten.

Der Künstler befindet sich hier wie in einer Einöde. Die Sprachen der wilden Indianer, die einen großen Mangel an dergleichen Begriffen haben und die kein Wort enthalten, welches Erkenntlichkeit, Raum, Dauer usw. bezeichnen könnte, sind nicht leerer von solchen Zeichen, als es die Malerei zu unseren Zeiten ist. Derjenige Maler, der weiter denkt, als seine Palette reicht, wünscht einen gelehrten Vorrat zu haben, wohin er gehen und bedeutende und sinnlich gemachte Zeichen von Dingen, die nicht sinnlich sind, nehmen könnte. Ein vollständiges Werk in dieser Art ist noch nicht vorhanden; die bisherigen Versuche sind nicht beträchtlich genug und reichen nicht bis an diese großen Absichten. Der Künstler wird wissen, wie weit ihm des Ripa Ikonologie, [34] die Denkbilder der alten Völker von van Hooghe Genüge tun werden.

Dieses ist die Ursache, daß die größten Maler nur bekannte Vorwürfe gewählt. Annibale Carracci, anstatt daß er die berühmtesten Taten und Begebenheiten des Hauses Farnese in der Farnesischen Galerie, als ein allegorischer Dichter, durch allgemeine Symbole und durch sinnliche Bilder hätte vorstellen können, hat hier seine ganze Stärke bloß in bekannten Fabeln gezeigt.

Die Königliche Galerie der Schildereien in Dresden enthält ohne Zweifel einen Schatz von Werken der größten Meister, der vielleicht alle Galerien in der Welt übertrifft, und Se. Majestät haben, als der weiseste Kenner der schönen Künste, nach einer strengen Wahl nur das Vollkommenste in seiner Art gesucht; aber wie wenig historische Werke findet man in diesem königlichen Schatze! Von allegorischen, von dichterischen Gemälden noch weniger.

Der große Rubens ist der vorzüglichste unter großen Malern, der sich auf den unbetretenen Weg dieser Malerei in großen Werken als ein erhabener Dichter gewagt. Die Luxemburgische Galerie, als sein größtes Werk, ist durch die Hand der geschicktesten Kupferstecher der ganzen Welt bekannt worden.

Nach ihm ist in neueren Zeiten nicht leicht ein erhabeneres Werk in dieser Art unternommen und ausgeführt worden, desgleichen die Cupola der Kaiserlichen Bibliothek in Wien ist, von Daniel Gran gemalt und von Sedelmayr in Kupfer gestochen. Die Vergötterung des Herkules in Versailles, als eine Allusion auf den Kardinal Hercules von Fleuri, von Le Moine gemalt, womit Frankreich als mit der größten Komposition in der Welt prangt, ist gegen die gelehrte und sinnreiche Malerei des deutschen Künstlers eine sehr gemeine und kurzsichtige Allegorie; sie ist wie ein Lobgedicht, worin die stärksten Gedanken sich auf den Namen im Kalender beziehen. Hier war der Ort, etwas Großes zu machen, und man muß sich wundern, daß es nicht geschehen ist. Man [35] sieht aber auch zugleich ein, hätte auch die Vergötterung eines Ministers den vornehmsten Plafond des königlichen Schlosses zieren sollen, woran es dem Maler gefehlt.

Der Künstler hat ein Werk vonnöten, welches aus der ganzen Mythologie, aus den besten Dichtern alter und neuerer Zeiten, aus der geheimen Weltweisheit vieler Völker, aus den Denkmalen des Altertums, auf Steinen, Münzen und Geräten, diejenigen sinnlichen Figuren und Bilder enthält, wodurch allgemeine Begriffe dichterisch gebildet worden. Dieser reiche Stoff würde in gewisse bequeme Klassen zu bringen und durch eine besondere Anwendung und Deutung auf mögliche einzelne Fälle, zum Unterricht der Künstler, einzurichten sein.

Hierdurch würde zu gleicher Zeit ein großes Feld geöffnet, zur Nachahmung der Alten und [um] unseren Werken einen erhabenen Geschmack des Altertums zu geben.

Der gute Geschmack in unsern heutigen Verzierungen, welcher seit der Zeit, da Vitruv bittere Klagen über das Verderbnis desselben führte, sich in neueren Zeiten noch mehr verderbt hat, teils durch die von Morto, einem Maler, von Feltro gebürtig, in Schwang gebrachten Grotesken, teils durch nichts bedeutende Malereien unserer Zimmer, könnte zugleich durch ein gründlicheres Studium der Allegorie gereinigt werden und Wahrheit und Verstand erhalten.

Unsere Schnörkel und das allerliebste Muschelwerk, ohne welches jetzt kein Zierat förmlich werden kann, hat manchmal nicht mehr Natur als Vitruvs Leuchter, welche kleine Schlösser und Paläste trugen. Die Allegorie könnte eine Gelehrsamkeit an die Hand geben, auch die kleinsten Verzierungen dem Orte, wo sie stehen, gemäß zu machen.

Reddere personae scit convenientia cuique.

Die Gemälde an Decken und über den Türen stehen meistenteils nur da, um ihren Ort zu füllen und um die ledigen Plätze zu decken, welche nicht mit lauter Vergoldungen können angefüllt werden. Sie haben nicht allein kein Verhältnis [36] mit dem Stande und mit den Umständen des Besitzers, sondern sie sind demselben sogar oftmals nachteilig.

Der Abscheu vor dem leeren Raum füllt also die Wände, und Gemälde, von Gedanken leer, sollen das Leere ersetzen.

Dieses ist die Ursache, daß der Künstler, den man seiner Willkür überläßt, aus Mangel allegorischer Bilder oft Vorwürfe wählt, die mehr zur Satire als zur Ehre desjenigen, dem er seine Kunst weiht, gereichen müssen; und vielleicht, um sich hiervor in Sicherheit zu stellen, verlangt man aus feiner Vorsicht von dem Maler, Bilder zu machen, die nichts bedeuten sollen.

Es macht oft Mühe, auch dergleichen zu finden, und endlich

... velut aegri somnia, vanae

Fingentur species.

Man nimmt also der Malerei dasjenige, worin ihr größtes Glück besteht, nämlich die Vorstellung unsichtbarer, vergangener und zukünftiger Dinge.

Diejenigen Malereien aber, welche an diesem oder jenem Orte bedeutend werden könnten, verlieren das, was sie tun würden, durch einen gleichgültigen oder unbequemen Platz, den man ihnen anweist.

Der Bauherr eines neuen Gebäudes,

Dives agris, dives positis in foenore nummis,

wird vielleicht über die hohen Türen seiner Zimmer und Säle kleine Bilder setzen lassen, die wider den Augenpunkt und wider die Gründe der Perspektive anstoßen. Die Rede ist hier von solchen Stücken, die ein Teil der festen und unbeweglichen Zieraten sind, nicht von solchen, die in einer Sammlung nach der Symmetrie geordnet werden.

Die Wahl in Verzierungen der Baukunst ist zuweilen nicht gründlicher: Armaturen und Trophäen werden allemal auf einem Jagdhaus ebenso unbequem stehen wie Ganymedes und der Adler, Jupiter und Leda unter der erhobenen Arbeit der Türen von Erz am Eingang der St. Peterskirche in Rom.

[37] Alle Künste haben einen gedoppelten Endzweck: sie sollen vergnügen und zugleich unterrichten, und viele von den größten Landschaftsmalern haben daher geglaubt, sie würden ihrer Kunst nur zur Hälfte ein Genüge getan haben, wenn sie ihre Landschaften ohne alle Figuren gelassen hätten.

Der Pinsel, den der Künstler führt, soll in Verstand getunkt sein, wie jemand von dem Schreibegriffel des Aristoteles gesagt hat: Er soll mehr zu denken hinterlassen, als was er dem Auge gezeigt, und dieses wird der Künstler erhalten, wenn er seine Gedanken in Allegorien nicht zu verstecken, sondern einzukleiden gelernt hat. Hat er einen Vorwurf, den er selbst gewählt oder der ihm gegeben worden, welcher dichterisch gemacht oder zu machen ist, so wird ihn seine Kunst begeistern und wird das Feuer, welches Prometheus den Göttern raubte, in ihm erwecken. Der Kenner wird zu denken haben, und der bloße Liebhaber wird es lernen.

English translation by Fuseli

EX ITBPL GEORG FIEDIER . DERMANN . MEHR LICHT. ! NSTTI I T DOMI MINA NUSTIO ILLU MLA UT V L NO PRESENTED TO THE LIBRARY BY PROFESSOR H. G. FIEDLER 1 Fid - سمcon

1 .. |||| Cerkve. ،90 %u 1832 REFLECTIONS ON THE Ρ Α Ι Ν Τ Ι Ν G A N D SCULPTURE OF THE G RE E K S. 1 i 1 l 1 REFLECTIONS ON THE PAINTING and SCULPTURE OF Τ Η Ε GRE E K S : WITH INSTRUCTIONS for the CONNOISSEUR, AND An ESSAY ON GRACE in Works of Art. Tranſlated from The German Original of the Abbé WINKELMANN, Librarian of the VATICAN, F. R. S. &c . &c. By HENRY FUSSELI, A.M. DIIS GRÆCIÆ S. LONDON : Printed for the TRANSLATOR, and Sold by A. MILLAR, in the Strand . 1765 . FAYLO THE & UNIVERSITY 29 NOV. 1943 LIBRARY OF OXFORD TO The Lord SCARSDALE. My LORD, WITHITH becoming gratitude for your Lordſhip’s con deſcenſion in granting ſuch a noble Aſylum to a Stranger, I humbly preſume to ſhelter this Tranſlation under your Lordſhip’s Patronage. If I have been able to do juſtice to my Author, your Lordſhip’s accurate Jugment, and fine Taſte, will naturally protect his Work : But I muſt rely wholly on your known vi DEDICATION. known Candour and Goodneſs for the pardon of many imperfections in the language. I am , with the moſt profound reſpect, MY LORD, Your LORDSHIP's Moſt obliged, 1 moſt obedient, and moſt humble Servant, LONDON, 10 April, 1765 Henry Fuſſeli. GRAIIS INGENIUM &c . ON THE I MITATION OF THE PAINTING and SCULPTURE of the GREEK S. TO I. NATURE. O the Greek climate we owe the production of TASTE, and from thence it ſpread at length over all the politer world . Every invention, communicated by foreigners to that nation , was but the feed of what it became afterwards, changing B both 2 Reflexions on theImitation of the both its nature and ſize in a cpuntry, choſen , as Plato · ſays, by Minerva, to be inhabited by the Greeks, as productive of every kind of genius. But this TASTE was not only original among the Greeks, but ſeemed alſo quite peculiar to their country : it ſeldom went abroad without loſs; and was long ere it imparted its kind influences to more diſtant climes. It was; doubtleſs, a ſtranger to the northern zones, when Painting and Sculp ture, thoſe offsprings of Greece, were de ſpiſed there to ſuch a degree, that the moſt valuable pieces of Corregio ſerved only for blinds to the windows of the royal ſtables at Stockholm . Ein Live There is but one way for the moderns to become great, and perhaps unequalled ; I mean, by imitating the antients. And what we are told of Homer , that whoever under ſtands him well, admires him , wefind no leſs true in matters concerning the antient, eſpecially the Greek arts . But then we muſt 1111 • Plato in Timæo. Edit. Francof. p. 1044. be Painting andSculpture of the Greeks. 3 be as familiar with them as with a friend, to find Laocoon as inimitable as Homer. By ſuch intimacy our judgment will be that of Nicomachus: Take theſe eyes, replied he to ſome paltry critick , cenſuring the Helen of Zeuxis, Take my eyes, and ſhe will appear a goddeſs. With ſuch eyes Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Pouffin , conſidered the performances of the antients. They imbibed taſte at its ſource ; and Raphael particularly in its na We know, that he ſent young artiſts to Greece, to copy there, for his ufe, the remains of antiquity. An antient Roman ſtatue, compared to a Greek one, will generally appear like Virgil's Diana amidſt her Oreads, in com pariſon of the Nauſicaa of Homer, whom he imitated. Laocoon was the ſtandard of the Roman artiſts, as well as ours ; and the rules of Polycletus became the rules of art. I need not put the reader in mind of the negligences to be met with in the moſt ce B 2 lebrated tive country $ 4 Reflexions on the Imitation of the 1 lebrated antient performances : the Dolphin at thefeet of the Medicean Venus, with the children, and the Parerga of the Diomedes by. Dioſcorides, being commonly known. The reverſe of the beft Egyptian and Syrian coins feldom equals the head , in point of workmanſhip. Great artiſts are wiſely neg ligent, and even their errors inſtruct. Be hold their works as Lucian bids you behold the Zeus of Phidias; Zeus himſelf, not bis footſtool. It is not only Nature which the votaries of the Greeks find in their works, but ftill more, ſomething ſuperior to nature ; ideal beauties, brain-born images, as Proclus ſays ". The moſt beautiful body of ours would perhaps be as much inferior to the moſt beautiful Greek one, as Iphicles was to his brother Hercules. The forms of the Greeks, prepared to beauty, by the influence of the mildeſt and pureſt ſky, became perfectly elegant by their early exerciſes. Take a b In Timæum Platonis . a Spar Painting and Sculpture ofthe Greeks. 5 a Spartan youth, ſprung from heroes, un diſtorted by ſwaddling-cloths ; whoſe bed, from his ſeventh year, was the earth , fami liar with wreſtling and ſwimming from his infancy ; and compare him with one of our young Sybarits, and then decide which of the two would be deemed worthy, by an artiſt, to ſerve for the model of a Theſeus, an Achilles, or even a Bacchus. The lat ter would produce a Theſeus fed on roſes, the former a Theſeus fed on fleſh , to borrow the expreſſion of Euphranor. The grand games were always a very ſtrong incentive for every Greek youth to exerciſe himſelf. Whoever aſpired to the honours of theſe was obliged, by the laws, to ſubmit to a trial of ten months at Elis, the general rendezvous ; and there the firſt re wards were commonly won by youths, as Pindar tells us. To be like the God - like Di agoras, was the fondeſt wiſh of every youth. с c Vide Pindar. Olymp. Od. VII. Arg. & Schol. B3 Behold 6 Reflexions on the Imitation of the ! 2 Behold the ſwift Indian outſtripping in purſuit the hart : how briſkly his juices cir culate ! how flexible , how elaſtic his nerves and muſcles ! how eaſy his whole frame! Thus Homer draws his heroes, and his Achilles he eminently marks for .“ being ſwift of foot.” By theſe exerciſes the bodies of the Greeks got the great and manly Contour obſerved in their ſtatues, without any bloated cor pulency. The young Spartans were bound to appear every tenth day naked before the Ephori, who, when they perceived any in clinable to fatneſs, ordered them a ſcantier diet ; nay, it was one of Pythagoras's pre cepts, to beware of growing too corpulent; and, perhaps for the ſame reaſon , youths aſpiring to wreſtling -games were , in the re moter ages of Greece, during their trial, con fined to a milk diet. They were particularly cautious in avoid ing every deforming cuſtom ; and Alcibiades, when a boy, refuſing to learn to play on the Painting and Sculpture ofthe Greeks. 7 the flute, for fear of its diſcompoſing his features, was followed by all the youth of Athens. In their dreſs they were profeſſed followers of nature. No modern ſtiffening habit, no ſqueezing ſtays hindered Nature from form ing eaſy beauty ; the fair knew no anxiety about their attire, and from their looſe and ſhort habits the Spartan girls got the epi thet of Phænomirides. We know what pains they took to have handſome children, but want to be acquainted with their methods: for certainly Quillet, in his Callipædy, falls ſhort of their numerous expedients. They even attempted chang ing blue eyes to black ones, and games of beauty were exhibited at Elis, the rewards conſiſting of arms conſecrated to the temple of Minerva. How could they miſs of com petent and learned judges, when, as Ari ſtotle tells us, the Grecian youths were taught drawing expreſsly for that purpoſe ? From their fine complexion, which, though ming B 4 led 8 Reflexions on the Imitation of the led with a vaſt deal of foreign blood, is ſtill preſerved in moſt of the Greek illands, and from the ſtill enticing beauty of the fair ſex , eſpecially at Chios; we may eaſily form an idea of the beauty of the former inhabi tants, who boaſted of being Aborigines, nay, more antient than the moon . And are not there ſeveral modern nations, among whom beauty is too common to give any title to pre-eminence ? Such are unani mouſly accounted the Georgians and the Ka bardinſki in the Crim . Thoſe diſeaſes which are deſtructive of beauty, were moreover unknown to the Greeks. There is not the leaſt hint of the ſmall-pox, in the writings of their phyſi cians; and Homer, whoſe portraits are al ways ſo truly drawn, mentions not one pitted face. Venereal plagues, and their daughter the Engliſh malady, had not yet names. And muſt we not then , conſidering every advantage which nature beſtows, or art teaches, for forming, preſerving , and im 3 proving Painting andSculpture of the Greeks. 9 4 proying beauty, enjoyed and applied by the Grecians ; muſt we not then confeſs, there is the ſtrongeſt probability that the beauty of their perſons excelled all we can have an idea of ? Art claims liberty : in vain would nature produce her nobleſt offsprings, in a country where rigid laws would choak her progreſ five growth, as in Egypt, that pretended parent of ſciences and arts : but in Greece, where, from their earlieſt youth, the happy inhabitants were devoted to mirth and plea ſure, where narrow -fpirited formality never reſtrained the liberty of manners, the artiſt enjoyed nature without a veil . The Gymnaſies, where, ſheltered by pub lic modeſty, the youths exerciſed themſelves naked, were the ſchools of art. Theſe the philoſopher frequented, as well as the artiſt, Socrates for the inſtruction of a Charmides, Autolycus, Lyſis; Phidias for the improve ment of his art by their beauty. Here he ſtudied the elaſticity of the muſcles, the ever vary 10 Reflexions on the Imitation ofthe * varying motions of the frame, the outlines of fair forms, or the Contour left by the young wreſtler on the fand. Here beautiful nakedneſs appeared with ſuch a livelineſs of expreſſion, ſuch truth and variety of fitua tions, ſuch a noble air of the body, as it would be ridiculous to look for in any hired model of our academies.

Truth ſprings from the feelings of the

heart. What ſhadow of it therefore can the modern artiſt hope for, by relying upon å vile model, whoſe foul is either too baſe to feel, or too ſtupid to expreſs the paſſions, the ſentiment his object claims ? unhappy he ! if experience and fancy fail him . The beginning of many of Plato's dia logues, ſuppoſed to have been held in the Gymnaſies, cannot raiſe our admiration of the generous fouls of the Athenian youth, without giving us, at the ſame time, a ſtrong preſumption of a ſuitable nobleneſs in their outward carriage and bodily exerciſes. The Painting andSculpture of the Greeks. II The faireſt youths danced undreſſed on the theatre ; and Sophocles, the great Sophocles, when young, was the firſt who dared to en tertain his fellow -citizens in this manner. Phryne went to bathe at the Eleuſinian games, expoſed to the eyes of all Greece, and riſing from the water became the model of Venus Anadyomene. During certain ſo lemnities the young Spartan maidens danced naked before the young men : ſtrange this may ſeem , but will appear more probable, when we conſider that the chriſtians of the primitive church, both men and women , were dipped together in the ſame font. Then every folemnity, every feſtival, af forded the artiſt opportunity to familiarize himſelf with all the beauties of Nature. In the moſt happy times of their free dom, the humanity of the Greeks abhorred bloody games, which even in the Ionick Aſia had ceaſed long before, if, as ſome gueſs, they had once been uſual there. An tiochus Epiphanes, by ordering Thews of Ro man I 2 Reflexions on the Imitation of the ; man gladiators, firſt preſented them with ſuch unhappy victims ; and cuſtom and time, weakening the pangs of ſympathizing humanity, changed even theſe games into ſchools of art. There Ctehas ſtudied his dying gladiator, in whom you might deſcry « how much life was ſtill left in him .” Theſe frequent occaſions of obſerving Na ture, taught the Greeks to go on ſtill farther. They began to form certain general ideas of beauty, with regard to the proportions of the inferiour parts, as well as of the whole frame : theſe they raiſed above the reach of mortality, according to the ſuperiour model of ſome ideal nature. Thus Raphael formed his Galatea, as we learn by his letter to Count Baltazar Caſtig lione , where he ſays, Beauty being ſo a Some are of opinion , that the celebrated Ludo viſian gladiator, now in the great fallon of the ca pitol , is this famewhcm Pliny mentions. • Vide Bellori Deſcriz delle Imagini dipinte da Raffaelle d'Vrbino, &c. Roma. 1695 fol. feldom Painting andSculpture ofthe Greeks. 13 feldom found among the fair, I avail myſelf of a certain ideal image. ” According to thoſe ideas, exalted above the pitch of material models, the Greeks formed their gods and heroes : the profile of the brow and noſe of gods and goddeſſes is almoſt a ſtreight line. The fame they gave on their coins to queens, & c . but without indulging their fancy too much. Perhaps this profile was as peculiar to the antient Greeks, as flat noſes and little eyes to the Calmucks and Chineſe ; a ſuppoſition which receives ſome ſtrength from the large eyes of all the heads on Greek coins and gems. From the ſame ideas the Romans form ed their Empreſſes on their coins. Livia and Agrippina have the profile of Artemiſia and Cleopatra. We obſerve, nevertheleſs, that the Greek artiſts in general, ſubmitted to the law pre ſcribed by the Thebans : “ To do, under a penalty, their beſt in imitating Nature.” For, where they could not poſſibly apply their 14 Reflexions on the Imitation ofthe 1 their eaſy profile, without endangering the reſemblance, they followed Nature, as we fee inſtanced in the beauteous head of Julia, the daughter of Titus, done by Euodus'. But to form a juſt reſemblance, and, at the fame time, a handſomer one, ” being always the chief rule they obſerved , and which Polygnotus conſtantly went by ; they muſt, of neceſſity, be fuppoſed to have had in view a more beauteous and more perfect Nature. And when we are told, that ſome artiſts imitated Praxiteles, who took his con cubine Cratina for the model of his Cnidian Venus ; or that others formed the graces from Lais ; it is to be underſtood that they did ſo, without neglecting theſe great laws of the art. Senſual beauty furniſhed the : painter with all that nature could give ; ideal beauty with the awful and ſublime ; from that he took the Humane, from this the Divine. 1 1 « Vide Stoſch Pierres gray . pl. XXXIII. 2 Let Painting andSculpture of the Greeks. 15 Let any one, ſagacious enough to pierce into the depths of art, compare the whole ſyſtem of the Greek figures with that of the moderns, by which, as they ſay, nature alone is imitated ; good heaven ! what a number of neglected beauties will he'not diſcover ! For inſtance, in moſt of the modern figures, if the ſkin happens to be any where preſſed, you ſee there ſeveral little ſmart wrinkles : . when, on the contrary , the ſame parts, preſſed in the ſame manner on Greek ftatues, by their ſoft undulations, form at laſt but one noble preſſure. Theſe maſter pieces never ſhew us the ſkin forcibly ſtretch ed, but ſoftly embracing the firm fleſh , which fills it up without any tumid expanſion, and harmoniouſly follows its direction. There the ſkin never, as on modern bodies, appears in plaits diſtinct from the fleſh . Modern works are likewiſe diſtinguiſhed om the antient by parts ; a crowd of ſmall touches and dimples too ſenſibly drawn. In antient works you find theſe diſtributed with ſparing 4 16 Reflexions on the Imitation of the ſparing fagacity, and, as relative to a com pleter and more perfect Nature, offered but as hints , nay , often perceived only by the learned . The probability ſtill increaſes, that the bodies of the Greeks, as well as the works of their artiſts, were framed with more unity of fyftem , a nobler harmony of parts, and a completeneſs of the whole , above our lean tenfions and hollow . wrinkles. Probability , 'tis true , is all we can pre tend to

but it deferves the attention of our

artiſts and connoiffeurs the rather , as the ve neration profeſſed for the antient monuments is commonly imputed to prejudice, and not to their excellence

as if the numerous

ages , during which they have mouldered , were the only motive for beſtowing on them exalted praiſes, and ſetting them up for the ſtandards of imitation . Such as would fain deny to the Greeks the advantages both of a more perfect Na ture and of ideal Beauties , boaſt of the fa . mous Sculpture andPainting of theGreeks. 17 X mous Bernini, as their great champion. He was of opinion, beſides, that Nature was poffeffed of every requiſite beauty : the only ſkill being to diſcover that. He boaſted of having got rid of á prejudice concerning the Medicean Venus, whoſe charms he at firſt thought peculiar ones ; but, after many careful reſearches, diſcovered them now and then in Nature , He was taught then , by the Venus, to diſcover beauties in common Nature, which he had formerly thought peculiar to that ftatue, and but forit, never would have ſearch ed for them . Follows it not from thence, that the beauties of the Greek ſtatues being diſ covered with leſs difficulty than thoſe of Na ture, are of courſe more affecting ; not ſo diffuſed , but more harmoniouſly united ? and if this be true, the pointing out of Na ture as chiefly imitable, is leading us into a more tedious and bewildered road to the & Baldinucci Vita del Cav. Barnini. C know 18 Reflexions on the Imitation of the knowledge of perfect beauty, than ſetting up the ancients for that purpoſe : conſequently Bernini, by adhering too ſtrictly to Nature, acted againſt his own principles, as well as obſtructed the progreſs of his diſciples. The imitation of beauty is either reduced to a ſingle object, and is individual, or, ga thering obſervations from ſingle ones, com poſes of theſe one whole. The former we call copying, drawing a portrait ; 'tis the ſtraight way to Dutch forms and figures; whereas the other leads to general beauty, and its ideal images, and is the way the Greeks took. But there is ſtill this difference between them and us : they enjoying daily occafions of feeing beauty, (ſuppoſe even not fuperior to ours,) acquired thoſe ideal riches with leſs toil than we, confined as we are to a few and often fruitleſs opportunities, ever can hope for. It would be no eaſy matter, I fancy, for our nature, to produce a frame equal in beauty to that of Antinous ; and ſurely Painting andSculpture of theGreeks. 19 ſurely no idea can foar above the more than human proportions of a deity, in the Apollo of the Vatican, which is a compound of the united force ofNature, Genius, and Art. Their imitation diſcovering in the one every beauty diffuſed through Nature, ſhew ing in the other the pitch to which the moſt perfect Nature can elevate herſelf, when ſoaring above the ſenſes, will quicken the genius of the artiſt, and ſhorten his diſcipleſhip : he will learn to think and draw with confidence, ſeeing here the fixed limits of human and divine beauty. Building on this ground, his hand and ſenſes directed by the Greek rule of beauty, the modern artiſt goes on the ſureſt way the imitation of Nature. The ideas of unity and perfection, which he acquired in meditating on antiquity, will help him to combine, and to ennoble the more ſcattered and weaker beauties of our Nature. Thus he will improve every beauty he diſcovers in it, to C 2

20 Reflexions on the Imitation of the it, and by comparing the beauties of nature with the ideal, form rules for himſelf. Then , and not fooner, he, particularly the painter, may be allowed to commit him felf to Nature, eſpecially in caſes where his art is beyond the inſtruction of the old mar bles, to wit, in drapery ; then , like Poufhin , he may proceed with more liberty ; for “ a “ timid follower will never get the ſtart of & his leaders, and he who is at a loſs to « produce ſomething of his own, will be bad manager of the productions of an “ other," as Michael Angelo fays, Minds favoured by Nature, a Quibus Arte benigna, Et meliore luto, finxit præcordia Titan , have herę a plain way to become originals. Thus the account de Piles gives, ought to be underſtood , that Raphael, a ſhort time before he was carried off by death, intended to forſake the marbles, in order to addiet himſelf wholly to Nature. True antient tafte Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 21 taſte would moſt certainly have guided him tirough every maze of common Nature ; and whatever obſervations, whatever new ideas he might have reaped from that, they would all, by a kind of chymical tranſmuta tion, have been changed to his own eſſence and ſoul. He, perhaps ,' might have indulged more variety ; enlarged his draperies ; improved his colours, his light and ſhadow : but none of theſe improvements would have raiſed his pictures to that high eſteem they deſerve, for that noble Contour, and that ſublimity of thoughts, which he acquired from the ancients. Nothing would more deciſively prove the advantages to be 'got by imitating the an cients, preferably to Nature, than an eſſay made with two youths of equal talents, by devoting the one to antiquity, the other to Nature : this would draw Nature as he finds her ; if Italian, perhaps he might paint like Caravaggio ; if Flemiſh, and lucky, C 3 like 22 Reflexions on the Imitation of the like Jac. Jordans ; if French, like Stella : the other would draw her as the directs, and paint like Raphael. II. CONTOUR. BUTT even ſuppoſing that the imitation of Nature could ſupply all the artiſt wants, ſhe never could beſtow the preciſion of Contour, that characteriſtic diſtinction of the ancients. The nobleſt Contour unites or circum fcribes every part of the moſt perfect Nature, and the ideal beauties in the figures of the Greeks ; or rather, contains them both . Euphranor, famous after the epoch of Zeuxis, is ſaid to have firſt ennobled it. Many of the moderns have attempted to imitate this Contour, but very few with ſuc ceſs. The great Rubens is far from having attained either its preciſion or elegance, eſpe cially in the performances which he finiſhed before X XХ Painting and Sculpture of theGreeks.. 23 before he went to Italy, and ſtudied the an tiques. The line by which Nature divides com pleteneſs from ſuperfluity is but a ſmall one, and, inſenſible as it often is, has been croſſed even by the beſt moderns; while theſe, in ſhunning a meagre Contour, became cor pulent, thoſe, in ſhunning that, grew lean . Among them all, only Michael Angelo, perhaps, may be ſaid to have attained the antique ; but only in ſtrong muſcular figures, heroic frames ; not in thoſe of tender youth ; nor in female bodies, which, under his bold hand, grew Amazons. The Greek artiſt, on the contrary, ad juſted his Contour, in every figure, to the breadth of a ſingle hair, even in the niceſt and moſt tireſome performances, as gems. Conſider the Diomedes and Perſeus of Diof corides “, Hercules and Iole by Teucer and admire the inimitable Greeks. > h Vide Storch Pierres Grav. pl . XXIX. XXX. i Vide Muf. Flor. T. II . t. V. C4 Parrba . 24 Reflexions on the Imitation of the X Parrhahus, they ſay, was maſter of the correcteſt Contour. This Contour reigns in Greek figures, even when covered with drapery, as the chief aim of the artiſt ; the beautiful frame pierces the marble like a tranſparent Coan cloth . The high -ſtiled Agrippina, and the three veſtals in the royal cabinet at Dreſden , de ſerve to be mentioned as eminent proofs of this. This Agrippina ſeems not the mother of Nero, but an elder one, the ſpouſe of Germanicus. She much refembles another pretended Agrippina, in the parlour of the library of St. Marc, at Venice k Ours is a fitting figure, above the fize of Nature, her head inclined on her right hand ; her fine face ſpeaks a foul “ pining in thought," ab forbed in penſive forrow , and ſenfeleſs to every outward impreſſion. The artiſt, I ſuppoſe, intended to draw his heroine in the k Vide Zanetti Statue nell' Antifala della libraria di S. Marco. Venez. 1740. fol. mourn Painting andSculpture of theGreeks. 25 mournful moment ſhe received the news of her baniſhment to Pandataria. The three veftals deferve our eſteem from a double title : as being the firſt important diſcoveries of Herculaneum , and models of the ſublimeſt drapery. All three, but par ticularly one above the natural fize, would , with regard to that, be worthy companions of the Farneſian Flora , and all the other boaſts of antiquity. The two others ſeem , by their reſemblance to each other, produc tions of the ſame hand, only diſtinguiſhed by their heads, which are not of equal good nefs. On the beſt the curled hairs, running in furrows from the forehead, are tied on the neck : on the other the hair being ſmooth on the ſcalp, and curled on the front, is gathered behind, and tied with a ribband : this head ſeems of a modern hand, but a good one . There is no veil on theſe heads ; but that makes not againſt their being veſtals : for the prieſteſſes of Veſta (I ſpeak on proof) were 26 Reflexions on the Imitation ofthe were not always veiled ; or rather, as the drapery ſeems to betray, the veil, which was of one piece with the garments, being thrown backwards, mingles with the cloaths on the neck. ' Tis to theſe three inimitable pieces that the world owes the firſt hints of the enſuing diſcovery of the ſubterranean treaſures of Herculaneum . Their diſcovery happened when the ſame ruins that overwhelmed the town had nearly extinguiſhed the unhappy remem brance of it : when the tremendous fate that ſpoke its doom was only known by the ac count which Pliny gives of his uncle's death . Theſe great maſter-pieces of the Greek art were tranſplanted, and worſhipped in Ger many, long before Naples could boaſt of one ſingle Herculanean monument. They were diſcovered in the year 1706 at Portici near Naples, in a ruinous vault, on occaſion of digging, the foundations of a villa, X 2 Painting andSculpture of theGreeks. 27 1 villa, for the Prince d'Elbeuf, and imme diately, with other new diſcovered marble and metal ſtatues, came into the poffeffion of Prince Eugene, and were tranſported to Vienna. Eugene, who well knew their value, pro vided a Sala Terrena to be built expreſsly for them , and a few others : and ſo highly were they eſteemed, that even on the firſt rumour of their ſale, the academy and the artiſts were in an uproar, and every body, when they were tranſported to Dreſden , followed them with heavy eyes. The famous Matielli, to whom 1 Х His rule Polyclet, his chiſſel Phidias gave, Algarotti. copied them in clay before their removal, and following them fome years after, filled Dreſden with everlaſting monuments of his art : but even there he ſtudied the drapery of his prieſteſſes, (drapery his chief ſkill !) till he laid down his chiffel, and thus gave the 28 Reflexions on the Imitation of the the moſt ſtriking proof of their excel. .مر " . lence III. DRAPERY. BYY Drapery is to be underſtood all that the art teaches of covering the nudities, and folding the garments; and this is the third prerogative of the ancients. The Drapery of the veſtals above, is grand and elegant. The ſmaller foldings ſpring gra dually, from the larger ones, and in them are loft again, with a noble freedom , and gen tle harmony of the whole, without hiding the correct Contour. ' How few of the mo derns would ſtand the teſt here !

Juſtice, however, ſhall not be refuſed to

ſome great modern artiſts, who, without im pairing nature or truth, have left, in certain caſes, the road which the ancients generally purſued. The Greek Drapery, in order to help the Contour, was, for the moſt part, taken from thin and wet garments, which of 3 courſe Painting andSculpture ofthe Greeks. 20 courſe claſped the body, and diſcovered the ſhape. The robe of the Greek ladies was ex tremely thin ; thence its epithet of Peplon . Nevertheleſs the reliefs, the pictures, and particularly the buſts of the anèients , are in ftances that they did not always keep to this undulating Drapery : In modern times the artiſts were forced to heap garments, and ſometimes heavy ones, on each other, which of courſe could not fall into the flowing folds of the an cients. Hence the large-folded Drapery, by which the painter and fculptør may diſplay as much fkill as by the ancient manner . Carlo Marat and Francis Solimena may be called the chief maſters of it : but the garments of the new Venetian ſchool, by paſſing the bounds of nature and propriety , became ſtiff as braſs. 1 Among the buſts remarkable for that coarſer Drapery, we may reckon the beauteous Caracalla in the royal cabinet at Dreſden , IV. Ex 30 Reflexions on the Imitation of the IV. EXPRESSION .

THE last and most eminent characteristic of the Greek works is a noble simplicity and sedate grandeur in Gesture and Expression. As the bottom of the sea lies peaceful beneath a foaming surface, a great soul lies sedate beneath the strife of passions in Greek figures.

" Tis in the face of Laocoon this ſoul fhines with full luſtre, not confined how ever to the face, amidſt the moſt violent ſufferings. Pangs piercing every muſcle, every labouring nerve ; pangs which we al moſt feel ourſelves, while we conſider - not the face, nor the moſt expreſſive parts only the belly contracted by excruciating pains: theſe however, I ſay, exert not them felves with violence, either in the face or geſture. He pierces not heaven , like the Laocoon of Virgil ; his mouth is rather opened to diſcharge an anxious overloaded groan , 1 Painting andSculpture ofthe Greeks. 31 3 groan, as Sadolet ſays ; the ſtruggling body and the ſupporting mind exert themfelves with equal ſtrength , này balance all the frame, Laocoon ſuffers, but ſuffers like the Phi loctetes of Sophocles : we weeping feel his pains, but wiſh for the hero's ſtrength to ſupport his miſery. co The Expreſſion of ſo great a ſoul is be yond the force of mere nature. It was in his own mind the artiſt was to ſearch for the ſtrength of ſpirit with which he marked his marble. Greece enjoyed artiſts and phi loſophers in the ſame perſons ; and the wiſdom of more than one Metrodorus di rected art, and inſpired its figures with more than common fouls. Had Laocoon been covered with a garb becoming an antient ſacrificer, his ſufferings would have loſt one half of their Expreſ fion . Bernini pretended to perceive the firſt effects of the operating venom in the numb neſs of one of the thighs. Sóhed ordmisid x Essetreftated the greattosta it the video suasmintiin prae it the workingof Ako metai . me Pirabazérte greatbehive VitidAt vid fraena Au sududen Conzemail moviesle. Every Reflexions on the Imitation of the Every'action or geſture in Greek figures, pot ſtamped with this character of fage dig nity, but too 'violent, too paſſionate, was called " Parenthyrſos.” - For, themore tranquillity reigns in a body, the fitter it is to draw the true character of the ſoul ; which, in every exceſſive gęſture, ſeems to ruſh from her proper centre, and being hurried away by extremes becomes unnatural. Wound up to the higheſt pitch of paſſion, ſhe may force herſelf upon the duller eye ; but the true ſphere of her ac tion is ſimplicity and calmneſs. In Laocoon ſufferings alone had been Parenthyrfos; the artiſt therefore, in order to reconcile the fig nificative and ennobling qualities of his ſoul, put him into a poſture, allowing for the fuf, ferings that were neceſſary, the next to a ſtate of tranquillity : a tranquillity however that is characteriſtical : the foul will be her felf - this individualnot the foul of man kind ); ſedate, but active ; calm , but not in different or drowſye. What Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 33 What a contraſt ! how diametrically op poſite to this is the taſte of our modern ar tiſts, eſpecially the young ones ! on nothing do they beſtow their approbation, but con torſions and ſtrange poſtures, inſpired with boldneſs; this they pretend is done with ſpirit, with Franchezza . Contraſt is the darling of their ideas ; in it they fancy every perfection. They fill their performances with comet like excentric fouls, deſpiſing every thing but an Ajax or a Capaneus. Arts have their infancy as well as men ; they begin, as well as the artiſt, with froth and bombaſt : in ſuch buſkins the muſe of Æſchilus ſtalks, and part of the diction in his Agamemnon is more loaded with hyper boles than all Heraclitus's nonſenſe. Per haps the primitive Greek painters drew in the ſame manner that their firſt good trage dian thought in . In all human actions flutter and raſh neſs precede, ſedateneſs and ſolidity follow : but time only can diſcover, and the judi D cious 34 Reflexions on the Imitation of the cious will admire theſe only : they are the characteriſtics of great maſters ; violent paſ fions run away with their diſciples. The ſages in the art know the difficulties hid under that air of eaſineſs : ut fibi quivis Speret idem , ſudet multum , fruftraque laboret Auſus idem . Hor. La Fage, though an eminent deſigner, was not able to attain the purity of ancient taſte. Every thing is animated in his works ; they demand, and at the ſame time diffipate, your attention, like a company ſtriving to talk all at once . This noble fimplicity and fedate grandeur is alſo the true characteriſtical mark of the beſt and matureſt Greek writings, of the epoch and ſchool of Socrates. Poffeffed of theſe qualities Raphael became eminently great, and he owed them to the ancients. That great foul of his, lodged in a beauteous body, was requiſite for the firſt diſcovery Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 35 diſcovery of the true character of the ancients : he firſt felt all their beauties, and ( what he was peculiarly happy in ! ) at an age when vulgar, unfeeling, and half-moulded fouls overlook every higher beauty. Ye that approach his works, teach your eyes to be ſenſible of thoſe beauties, refine your taſte by the true antique, and then that folemn tranquillity of the chief figures in his Attila, deemed inſipid by the vulgar, will appear to you equally ſignificant and ſublime. The Roman biſhop, in order to divert the Hun from his deſign of affailing Rome, appears not with the air of a Rhetor, but as a venerable man, whoſe very preſence ſoftens peace ; like him drawn by Virgil : uproar into Tum pietate gravem ac meritis, fiforte virum quem Conſpexere, filent, adrectiſque auribus adiant : Æn. I. D 2 full 36 Reflexions on the Imitation of the 1 full of confidence in God, he faces down the barbarian : the two Apoſtles defcend not with the air of laughtering angels, but ( if ſacred may be compared with profane) like Jove, whoſe very nod ſhakes Olympus. Algardi, in his celebrated repreſentation of the ſame ſtory, done in bas- relief on an altar in St. Peter's church at Rome, was either too' negligent, or too weak, to give this active tranquillity of his great prede ceffor to the figures of his Apoſtles. There they appear like meſſengers of the Lord of Hoſts : here like human warriors with mortal arms. How few of thoſe we call connoiſſeurs have ever been able to underſtand, and fin cerely to admire, the grandeur of expreſſion in the St. Michael of Guido, in the church of the Capuchins at Rome! they prefer commonly the Archangel of Concha, whoſe face glows with indignation and revenge " ; whereas m Vide Wright's Travels. The victorious St. Michael of Guido, treads on the X Painting and Sculpture ofthe Greeks. 37 fragen. whereas Guido's Angel, after having over thrown the fiend of God and man, hovers holdatitu over him unruffled and undiſmayed . calm beauty ofSethodi in formThus, to heighten the hero of The Cam- avbe what's thepaign, victorious Marlborough, the Britiſh poet paints the avenging Angel hovering over Britannia with the like ſerenity and awful calmneſs, The royal gallery at Dreſden contains now, among its treaſures, one of Raphael's Madonna beſt pictures, witneſs Vaſari, & c. a Ma Sansisto donna with the Infant ; St. Sixtus and St. Barbara kneeling, one on each ſide, and two Dresden Angels in the fore-part. looking npward asifrimbued uitIt was the chief altar - piece in the cloiſter Sentiinonit. of St. Sixtus at Piacenza, which was croud ed by connoiſſeurs, who came to ſee this Raphael, in the ſame manner as Theſpis was in the days of old, for the ſake of the - beautiful Cupid of Praxiteles. dhe 1 un یک the body of his antagoniſt, with all the preciſion of a dancing -maſter. Webb's Inquiry, &c. D 3 Be. 38 Reflexions on the Imitation of the Behold the Madonna ! her face brightens with innocence ; a form above the female ſize, and the calmneſs of her mien, make her appear as already beatified : ſhe has that filent awfulneſs which the ancients ſpread over their deities. How grand, how noble is her Contour ! The child in her arms is elevated above vulgar children, by a face darting the beams of divinity through every ſmiling feature of harmleſs childhood. St. Barbara kneels, with adoring ſtill neſs, at her fide : but being far beneath the majeſty of the chief figure, the great artiſt compenſated her humbler graces with ſoft enticing charms. The Saint oppoſite to her is venerable with age. His features ſeem to bear wit neſs of his facred youth. The veneration which St. Barbara declares for the Madonna, expreſſed in the moſt ſenſible and pathetic manner, by her fine hands claſped on her breaſt, helps to ſup port Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 39 s زارع port the motion of one of St. Sixtus's hands, by which he utters his extaſy, better be coming (as the artiſt judiciouſly thought, and choſe for variety's ſake) manly ſtrength , than female modeſty. Time, 'tis true, has withered the primitive ſplendour of this picture, and partly blown off its lively colours ; but ſtill the foul, with which the painter inſpired his godlike work, breathes life through all its parts. Let thoſe that approach this, and the reſt of Raphael's works, in hopes of finding there the trifling Dutch and Flemiſh beau ties, the laboured nicety of Netſcher, Douw , fleſh ivorified by Van der Werf, or even the licked manner of ſome of Ra phael's living countrymen ; let thoſe, I ſay, be told, that Raphael was not a great maſter for them . or D4 V. WORK 40 Reflexions on the Imitation of the V. WORKMANSHIP in Sculpture , wax ; AFTER theſe remarks on the Nature, the Contour, the Drapery, the ſimpli city and grandeur of Expreſſion in the per formances of the Greek artiſts, we ſhall proceed to ſome inquiries into their method of working Their models were generally made of inſtead of which the moderns uſed clay, or ſuch like unctuous ſtuff, as ſeeming fitter for expreſſing fleſh , than the more gluey and tenacious wax. A method however not new, though more frequent in our times : for we know even the name of that ancient who firſt attempted modelling in wet clay ; ' twas Dibutades of Sicyon ; and Arcefilaus, the friend of Lu çullus, grew more famous by his models of clay than his other performances. He made for Lucullus” a figure of clay repreſenting Happineſs, and received 60,000 feſterces : 2 and Painting andSculpture of the Greeks. 41 and O & avius, a Roman Knight, paid him a talent for the model only of a large diſh , in plaiſter, which he deſigned to have finiſhed in gold. Of all materials, clay might be allowed to be the fitteſt for ſhaping figures, could it preferve its moiſtneſs ; but loſing that by time or fire, its ſolider parts, contracting by de grees, leſſen the bulk of the maſs ; and that which is formed , being of different diameters, grows ſooner dry in ſome parts than in others, and the dry ones being ſhrunk to a ſmaller ſize, there will be no proportion kept in the whole. From this inconvenience wax is always free : it loſes nothing of its bulk ; and there are alſo means to give it the ſmoothneſs of fleſh , which is refuſed to modelling ; viz . you make model of clay, mould it with plaiſter, and caſt the wax over it. But for transferring their models to the marble, the Greeks ſeem to have pofſeffed fome your 42 Reflexions on the Imitation of the fomepeculiar advantages, which are now loft: for you diſcover, every where in their works, the traces of a confident hand ; and even in thoſe of inferior rank , it would be no eaſy matter to prove a wrong cut. Surely hands ſo ſteady, fo ſecure; muſt of neceſſity have been guided by rules more determinate and leſs arbitrary than we can boaſt of. The uſual method of our ſculptors is, to quarter the well -prepared model with ho rizontals and perpendiculars, and, as is common in copying a picture, to draw a re lative number of ſquares on the marble. Thus, regular gradations of a ſcale be ing ſuppoſed, every ſmall ſquare of the mo del has its correſponding one on the marble. But the contents of the relative maſſes not being determinable by a meaſured ſurface, the artiſt, though he gives to his ſtone the reſemblance of the model, yet, as he only depends on the precarious aid of his eye, he ſhall never ceaſe wavering, as to his doing right or wrong, cutting too fat or too deep. Nor Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 43 Nor can he find lines to determine pre ciſely the outlines, or the Contour of the inward parts, and the centre of his model, in fo fixed and unchangeable a manner, as to enable him, exactly, to transfer the ſame Contours upon his ſtone. To all this add, that, if his work hap pens to be too voluminous for one ſingle hand, he muſt truſt to thoſe of his journey men and diſciples, who, too often , are nei ther ſkilful nor cautious enough to follow their maſter's deſign ; and if once the ſmalleſt trifle be cut wrong, for it is impoſſible to fix, by this method, the limits of the cuts, all is loſt. It is to be remarked in general, that every ſculptor, who carries on his chiffelings their whole length, on firſt faſhioning his marble, and does not prepare them by gra dual cuts for the laſt final ſtrokes ; it is to be remarked, I ſay , that he never can keep his work free from faults. Another LOR UNIVEWSITY OF OXFORD FOTION 44 Reflexions on the Imitation of the Another chief defect in that method is this : the artiſt cannot help cutting off, every moment, the lines on his block ; and though he reſtore them, cannot poſſibly be fure of avoiding miſtakes. On account of this unavoidable uncer tainty, the artiſts found themſelves obliged to contrive another method, and that which the French academy at Rome firſt made uſe of for copying antiques, was applied by many even to modelled performances. Over the ſtatue which you want to copy , you fix a well - proportioned ſquare, di viding it into equally diſtant degrees, by plummets: by theſe the outlines of the figure are more diſtinctly marked than they could poſſibly be by means of the former method : they moreover afford the artiſt an exact meaſure of the more prominent or lower parts, by the degrees in which theſe parts are near them , and in ſhort, allow him to go on with more confidence. But Painting andSculpture of the Greeks. 45 But the undulations of a curve being not determinable by a ſingle perpendicular, the Contours of the figure are but indifferently indicated to the artiſt ; and among their many declinations from a ſtraight ſurface, his tenour is every moment loft. The difficulty of diſcovering the real pro portions of the figures, may alſo be eaſily imagined : they ſeek them by horizontals placed acroſs the plummets. But the rays reflected from the figure through the ſquares, will ſtrike the eye in enlarged angles, and confequently appear bigger, in proportion as they are high or low to the point of view. Nevertheleſs, as the ancient monuments muſt be moſt cautiouſly dealt with, plum mets are ſtill of uſe in copying them, as no [urer or eaſier method has been diſcovered : but for performances to be done from mo dels they are unfit for want of preciſion. Michael Angelo went alone a way un known before him , and ſtrange to tell !) untrod 46 Reflexions on the Imitation ofthe 臺 untrod ſince the time of that genius of mo dern ſculpture. This Phidias of latter times, and next to the Greeks, hath , in all probability, hit the very mark of his great maſters. We know at leaſt no method fo eminently proper for expreſſing on the block every, even the mi nuteſt, beauty of the model. Vafari " ſeems to give but a defective deſcription of this method, viz . Michael 66 a Vaſari vite de Pittori , Scult. et Arch. edit . 1568. Part III . p. 776.- " Quattro prigioni bozzati, for che poſſano inſegnare à cavare de' Marmi le figure « con un modo ſicuro da non iſtorpiare i fafli, che “ il modo è queſto, che s'e' ſi pigliaffi una figura di cera o d'altra materia dura, e ſi meteſſi à giacere « in una conca d'acqua, la quale acqua eſſendo per « la ſua natura nella ſua ſommità piana et pari, al “ zando la detta figura à poco del pari, coſi ven gono à ſcoprirſi prima le parti piu relevate e å “ naſconderfi i fondi, cioè le parti piu baſſe della “ figura, tanto che nel fine ella coſi viene ſcoperta 66 tutta. Nel medeſimo modo ſi debbono cavare con “ lo ſcarpello le figure de' Marmi, prima ſcoprendo « le parti piu rilevate , e di mano in mano le piu baſle , « il quale modo ſi vede offervato da Michael Angelo “ ne' ſopra detti prigioni, i quali fua Eccellenza “ vuole, che ſervino per eſempio de ſuoi Academici.” Angelo Painting andSculpture ofthe Greeks. 47 Angelo took a veſſel filled with water, in which he placed his model of wax, or ſome ſuch indiffoluble matter : then, by degrees, raiſed it to the ſurface of the water. In this manner the prominent parts were unwet, the lower covered , ' till the whole at length appeared . Thus ſays Vaſari, he cut his marble, proceeding from the more promi nent parts to the lower ones. Vaſari, it ſeems, either miſtook ſomething Furely he lowered the in the management of his friend, or by the Seale of wricenegligence of his account gives us room to & Ius exposed her model asha imagine it ſomewhat different from what he Droeveded withPar Hark ! relates. The form of theveſſel is not determined ; to raiſe the figure from below would prove too troubleſome, and preſuppoſes much more than this hiſtorian had a mind to inform us of. Michael Angelo, no doubt, thoroughly ex amined his invention , its conveniencies and inconveniencies, and in all probability ob ſerved the following method. 2 He 18 Reflexions on the Imitation of the He took a veſſel proportioned to his mo del ; for inſtance, an oblong ſquare: he marked the ſurface of its ſides with certain dimenſions, and theſe he transferred after wards, with regular gradations, on the mar ble. The inſide of the veſſel he marked to the bottom with degrees. Then he laid , or, if of wax, faſtened his model in it ; he drew , perhaps, a bar over the veſſel ſuitable to its dimenſions, according to whoſe num ber he drew, firſt, lines on his marble, and immediately after,the figure ; he poured wa ter on the model fill it reached its outmoſt points, and after having fixed upon a pro minent part, he drew off as much water as hindred him from ſeeing it, and then went to work with his chiffel, the degrees ſhew ing him how to go on ; if, at the ſame time, ſome other part of the model appeared, it was copied too, as far as ſeen . Water was again carried off, in order to let the lower parts appear ; by the degrees he ſaw to what pitch it was reduced, and by Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 49 by its ſmoothneſs he diſcovered the exact ſurfaces of the lower parts ; nor could he go wrong, having the ſame number of degrees to guide him , upon his marble. The water not only pointed him out the heights or depths, but alſo the Contour of his model ; and the ſpace left free on the inſides to the ſurface of the water, whoſe largeneſs was determined by the degrees of the two other ſides, was the exact meaſure of what might ſafely be cut down from the block . His work had now got the firſt form , and a correct one : the levelneſs of the water had drawn a line, of which every promi nence of the maſs was a point ; according to the diminution of the water the line funk in a horizontal direction , and was followed by the artiſt ' till he diſcovered the declinations of the prominences, and their mingling with the lower parts. Proceeding thus with degree, as it appeared, he finiſhed the Con tour, and took his model out of the water. every 1 E His 50 Reflexions on the Imitation of the His figure wanted beauty : he again pour ed water to a proper height over his model, and then numbering the degrees to the line deſcribed by the water, he deſcried the ex act height of the protuberant parts ; on theſe he levelled his rule, and took the meaſure of the diſtance, from its verge to the bot tom ; and then comparing all he had done with his marble, and finding the ſame num ber of degrees, he was geometrically ſure of ſucceſs. Repeating his taſk , he attempted to ex preſs the motion and re - action of neryes and muſcles, the ſoft undulations of the ſmaller parts, and every imitable beauty of his mo del. The water inſinuating itſelf, even into the moſt inacceſſible parts, traced their Con tour with the correcteſt ſharpneſs and pre ciſion . This method admits of every poſſible poſture. In profile eſpecially, it diſcovers every inadvertency ; ſhews the Contour of I the Painting andSculpture of the Greeks. 51 the prominent and lower parts, and the whole diameter. All this, and the hope of ſucceſs, pre ſuppoſes a model formed by ſkilful hands, in the true taſte of antiquity. This is the way by which Michael An gelo arrived at immortality. Fame and re wards conſpired to procure him what leiſure he wanted, for performances which required ſo much care . But the artiſt of our days, however en dowed by nature and induſtry with talents to raiſe himſelf, and even though he per ceive preciſion and truth in this method, is forced to exert his abilities for getting bread rather than honour : he of courſe reſts in his uſual ſphere, and continues to truſt in an eye directed by years and practice. Now this eye, by the obſervations of which heis chiefly ruled, being at laſt, though by a great deal of uncertain practice, become almoſt deciſive : how refined, how exact E 2 might 52 Reflexions on the Imitation of the ! might it not have been, if, from early youth, acquainted with never -changing rules ! And were young artiſts, at their firſt be ginning to ſhape the clay or form the wax , ſo happy as to be inſtructed in this ſure me thod of Michael Angelo, which was the fruit of long reſearches, they might with reaſon hope to come as near the Greeks as he did. VI. PAINTING . GREEK Painting perhaps would ſhare all the praiſes beſtowed on their Sculp ture, had time and the barbarity of man kind allowed us to be deciſive on that point. All the Greek painters are allowed is Contour and Expreſſion. Perſpective, Com poſition, and Colouring, are denied them; a judgment founded on ſome bas- reliefs, and the new -diſcovered ancient ( for we dare not ſay Greek ) pictures, at and near Rome, in the ſubterranean vaults of the palaces of Mæcenas, Painting andSculpture of the Greeks. 53 Mæcenas, Titus, Trajan , and the Antonini ; of which but about thirty are preſerved en tire, ſome being only in Moſaic. Turnbull, to his treatiſe on ancient paint- V ing, has ſubjoined a collection of the moſt known ancient pictures, drawn by Camillo Paderni, and engraved by Mynde ; and theſe alone give ſome value to the magnificent and abuſed paper of his work . Two of them are copied from originals in the cabinet of the late Dr. Mead. That Poufin much ſtudied the pretended Aldrovandine Nuptials ; that drawings are found done by Annibal Carracci, from the preſumed Marcius Coriolanus; and that there is a moſt ſtriking reſemblance between the heads of Guido, and thoſe on the Moſaic re preſenting Jupiter carrying off Europa, are remarks long ſince made. Indeed, if ancient Painting were to be judged by theſe, and ſuch like remains of Freſco pictures, Contour and Expreſſion might be wreſted from it in the ſame manner. For ! E 3 1 54 Reſtexions on the Imitation of the 3 ز For the pictures, with figures as big as life, pulled off with the walls of the Hercula nean theatre, afford but a very poor idea of the Contour ånd Expreſſion of the ancient painters. Theſeus, the conqueror of the Minotaur, worſhipped by the " Athenian youths ; Flóra with Hercules and a Faunus ; the pretended judgment of the Decemvir Appius Claudius, are on the teſtimony of an artiſt who ſaw them , of a Contour as mean as faulty ; and the heads want not only Ex preſſion, but thoſe in the Claudius even Character. But even this is an evident inſtance of the meanneſs of the artiſts : for the ſcience of beautiful Proportions, of Contour, and Ex preſſion, could not be the excluſive privilege of Greek ſculptors alone . However, though I am for doing juſtice to the ancients, I have no intention to leſſen the merit of the moderns . In Perſpective there is no compariſon be tween them and the ancients, whom no learned Painting and Sculpture of theGreeks. 55 earned defence can intitle to any fuperiority in that ſcience. The laws of Compoſition and Ordonnance ſeem to have been but im perfectly known by the ancients : the re liefs of the times when the Greek arts were flouriſhing at Rome, are inſtances of this. The accounts of the ancient writers, and the remains of Painting are likewiſe, in point of Colouring, deciſive in favour of the mo derns. There are ſeveral other objects of Paint ing which, in modern times, have attained greater perfection : ſuch are landſcapes and cattle pieces. The ancients ſeem not to have been acquainted with the handſomer varieties of different animals in different climes, if we may conclude from the horſe of M. Aurelius ; the two horſes in Monte Cavallo ; the pretended Lyſippean horſes above the portal of St. Mark's church at Venice ; the Farneſian bull , and other ani mals of that groupe. E 4 I ob 56 Reflexions on the Imitation of the I obſerve, by the bye, that the ancients were careleſs of giving to their horſes the diametrical motion of their legs ; as we ſee in the horſes at Venice, and the ancient coins ; and in that they have been followed , nay even defended, by ſome ignorant mo derns. ' Tis chiefly to oil -painting that our land ſcapes, and eſpecially thoſe of the Dutch, owe their beauties : by that their colours ac quired more ſtrength and livelineſs; and even nature herſelf ſeems to have given them a thicker, moiſter atmoſphere, as an advantage to this branch of the art. Theſe, and ſome other advantages over the ancients, deſerve to be ſet forth with more folid arguments than we have hitherto had. VII. ALLEGORY. THERE is one other important ſtep left towards the atchievement of the art ; but the artiſt, who, boldly forſaking the Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 57 the common path , dares to attempt it, finds himſelf at once on the brink of a precipice, and ſtarts back diſmayed. The ſtories of martyrs and faints, fables and metamorphoſes, are almoſt the only objects of modern painters -- repeated a thou fand times, and varied almoſt beyond the limits of poſſibility, every tolerable judge grows fick at them . The judicious artiſt falls alleep over a Daphne and Apollo, a Proſerpine carried off by Pluto, an Europa, &c. he wiſhes for occaſions to Thew himſelf a poet, to produce ſignificant images, to paint Allegory. Painting goes beyond the ſenſes : there is its moſt elevated pitch , to which the Greeks ſtrove to raiſe themſelves, as their writings évince. Parrhafius, like Ariſtides, a painter of the ſoul, was able to expreſs the cha racter even of a whole people : he painted the Athenians as mild as cruel, as fickle as ſteady, as brave as timid. Such a repre fentation owes its poffibility only to the al legorical I 48 Reflexions on the Imitation of the He took a veſſel proportioned to his mo del ; for inſtance, an oblong ſquare : he marked the ſurface of its ſides with certain dimenſions; and theſe he transferred after wards, with regular gradations, on the mar ble. The inſide of the' vefſel he marked to the bottom with degrees. Then he laid, or , if of wax, faſtened his model in it; he drew, perhaps, a bar over the veffel ſuitable to its dimenſions, according to whoſe num ber he drew , firſt, lines on his marble, and immediately after, the figure ; he poured wa ter on the model fill it reached its outmoſt points, and after having fixed upon a pro minent part, he drew off as much water as hindred him from ſeeing it, and then went to work with his chiffel, the degrees ſhew ing him how to go on ; if, at the ſame time, fome other part of the model appeared, it was copied too, as far as ſeen . Water was again carried off, in order to let the lower parts appear ; by the degrees he ſaw to what pitch it was reduced, and by Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 49 1 by its ſmoothneſs he diſcovered the exact ſurfaces of the lower parts ; nor could he go wrong, having the ſame number of degrees to guide him , upon his marble. The water not only pointed him out the heights or depths, but alſo the Contour of his model ; and the ſpace left free on the inſides to the ſurface of the water, whoſe largeneſs was determined by the degrees of the two other ſides, was the exact meaſure of what might ſafely be cut down from the block . His work had now got the firſt form , and a correct one : the levelneſs of the water had drawn a line, of which every promi nence of the maſs was a point ; according to the diminution of the water the line funk in a horizontal direction, and was followed by the artiſt 'till he diſcovered the declinations of the prominences, and their mingling with the lower parts. Proceeding thus with every degree, as it appeared, he finiſhed the Con tour, and took his model out of the water. E His 54 Reſtexions on the Imitation of the 9 5 For the pictures,' with figures asbig as life, pulled off with the walls of the Hercula nean theatre, afford but a very poor idea of the Contour and Expreſſion of the ancient painters . Theſeus, the conqueror of the Minotaur, worſhipped by the " Athenian youths ; Flora with Hercules and a Faunus ; the pretended judgment of the Decemvir Appius Claudius, are on the teſtimony of an artiſt who ſaw them, of a Contour as mean as faulty ; and the heads want not only Ex preſſion, but thoſe in the Claudius even Character. But even this is an evident inſtance of the meanneſs of the artiſts : for the ſcience of beautiful Proportions, of Contour, and Ex preſſion, could not be the excluſive privilege of Greek ſculptors alone . However, though I am for doing juſtice to the ancients, I have no intention to leſſen the merit of the moderns. In Perſpective there is no compariſon be tween them and the ancients, whom no learned Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 55 earned defence can intitle to any ſuperiority in that ſcience. The laws of Compoſition and Ordonnance ſeem to have been but im perfectly known by the ancients : the re liefs of the times when the Greek arts were flouriſhing at Rome, are inſtances of this. The accounts of the ancient writers, and the remains of Painting are likewiſe, in point of Colouring, deciſive in favour of the mo derns. There are ſeveral other objects of Paint ing which, in modern times, have attained greater perfection : ſuch are landſcapes and cattle pieces. The ancients ſeem not to have been acquainted with the handſomer varieties of different animals in different climes, if we may conclude from the horſe of M. Aurelius ; the two horſes in Monte Cavallo ; the pretended Lyſippean horſes above the portal of St. Mark's church at Venice ; the Farneſian bull, and other ani mals of that groupe. E4 I ob 56 Reflexions on the Imitation of the I obſerve, by the bye, that the ancients were careleſs of giving to their horſes the diametrical motion of their legs ; as we fee in the horſes at Venice, and the ancient coins ; and in that they have been followed, nay even defended, by ſome ignorant mo derns. ' Tis chiefly to oil -painting that our land ſcapes, and eſpecially thoſe of the Dutch, owe their beauties : by that their colours ac quired more ſtrength and livelineſs; and even nature herſelf ſeems to have given them a thicker, moiſter atmoſphere, as an advantage to this branch of the art . Theſe, and ſome other advantages over the ancients, deſerve to be ſet forth with more ſolid arguments than we have hitherto had. VII. ALLEGORY. THHERE is one other important ſtep left towards the atchievement of the art ; but the artiſt, who, boldly forſaking the Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 57 the common path , dares to attempt it, finds himſelf at once on the brink of a precipice, and ſtarts back diſmayed. The ſtories of martyrs and faints, fables and metamorphoſes, are almoſt the only objects of modern painters -- repeated a thou ſand times, and varied almoſt beyond the limits of poſſibility, every tolerable judge grows ſick at them . The judicious artiſt falls aſleep over a Daphne and Apollo, a Proſerpine carried off by Pluto, an Europa, &c. he wiſhes for occaſions to Thew himſelf a poet, to produce ſignificant images, to paint Allegory. Painting goes beyond the ſenſes : there is its moſt elevated pitch, to which the Greeks ſtrove to raiſe themſelves, as their writings evincé. Parrhafius, like Ariſtides, a painter of the ſoul, was able to expreſs the cha racter even of a whole people : he painted the Athenians as mild as cruel , as fickle as ſteady, as brave as timid. Such a repre ſentation owes its poſſibility only to the al legorical I 38. Reflexions on the Imitation of the legorical method, whoſe images convey gew neral ideas. But here the artiſt is loſt in a deſart. Tongues the moſt ſavage, which are entirely deſtitute of abſtracted ideas, containing no word whoſe ſenſe could expreſs memory, ſpace, duration, & c . theſe tongues, I ſay, are not more deftitute of general ſigns, than painting in our days. The painter who thinks beyond his palette longs for fome learned apparatus, by whoſe ſtores ha might be enabled to inveſt abſtracted ideas with ſenſible and meaning images. Nothing has yet been publiſhed of this kind, to fatisfy a rational being ; the eſſays - hitherto made are not conſiderable, and far beneath this great deſign. The artiſt himſelf knows beſt in what degree he is fatisfied with Ripa's Iconology, and the emblems of an cient nations, by Van Hooghe. Hence the greateſt artiſts have choſen but vulgar objects. Annibal Caracci, inſtead of repreſenting in general ſymbols and ſenſible images Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks. 59 X images the hiſtory of the Farneſian family, as an allegorical poet, waſted all his ſkill in fables known to the whole world. Go, viſit the galleries of monarchs, and the publick repoſitories of art, and fee what difference there is between the number of allegorical, poetical, or even hiſtorical per formances, and that of fables, ſaints, or madonnas. Among great artiſts, Rubens is the moſt eminent, who firſt, like a ſublime poet, dared to attempt this untrodden path. His moſt voluminous compoſition, the gallery of Luxembourg, has been communicated to the world by the hands of the beſt en gravers. After him the ſublimeſt performance un dertaken and finiſhed, in that kind, is, no doubt, the cupola of the imperial library at Vienna, painted by Daniel Gran, and en graved by Sedelmayer. The Apotheoſis of Hercules at Verſailles, done by Le Moine, and alluding to the Cardinal Hercules de Fleury, Х 60 Reflexions on the Imitation of the Fleury, though deemed in France the moſt auguſt of compoſitions, is, in compariſon of the learned and ingenious performance of the German artiſt, but a very mean and ſhort fighted Allegory, reſembling a panegyric, the moſt ſtriking beauties of which are relative to the almanack. The artiſt had it in his power to indulge grandeur, and his flipping the occaſion is aſtoniſhing : but even allowing, that the Apotheofis of a miniſter was all that he ought to have decked the chief cieling of a royal palace with , we never theleſs ſee through his fig-leaf. The artiſt would require a work, containing every image with which any abſtracted idea might be poeticallyinveſted : a work collected from all mythology, the beſt poets of all ages, the myſterious philoſophy of different nations, the monuments of the ancients on gems, coins, utenſils, &c. This magazine ſhould be diſtributed into ſeveral claſſes, and, with proper applications to peculiar poſſible caſes, adapted to the inſtruction of the artiſt. This Painting andSculpture of theGreeks. 61 This would, at the ſame time, open a vaſt field for imitating the ancients, and parti cipating of their ſublimer taſte . The taſte in our decorations, which , ſince the complaints ofVitruvius, hath changed for the worſe, partly by the groteſques brought in vogue by Morte da Feltro, partly by our trifling houſe-painting, might alſo, from more intimacy with the ancients, reap the advantages of reality and common ſenſe. The Caricatura -carvings, and favourite ſhells, thoſe chief ſupports of our orna ments, are full as unnatural as the candle ſticks of Vitruvius, with their little caſtles and palaces : how eaſy would it be, by the help of Allegory, to give ſome learned con venience to the ſmalleſt ornament ! Reddere perſona ſcit convenientia cuique. Hor, Paintings of ceilings, doors, and chimney pieces, are commonly but the expletives of theſe places, becauſe they cannot be gilt all 62 Reflexions on the Imitation of the all over, Not only they have not the leaſt relation to the rank and circumſtances of the proprietor, but often throw ſome ridicule or reflection upon him. ' Tis an abhorrence of barenneſs that fills walls and rooms; and pictures void of thought muſt ſupply the vacuum . Hence the artiſt, abandoned to the dictates of his own fancy, paints, for want of Alle gory, perhaps a ſatire on him to whom he owes his induſtry ; or, to ſhun this Cha rybdis, finds himſelf reduced to paint figures void of any meaning. Nay, he may often find it difficult to meet even with thoſe, ' till at laſt velut ægri Somnia, vana Finguntur Species. Hor. Thus Painting is degraded from its moſt eminent prerogative, the repreſentation of inviſible, paſt and future things. If pictures be ſometimes met with, which might be ſignificant in ſome particular place, Painting andSculpture of theGreeks, 63 place, they often loſe that property by ſtupid and wrong applications. Perhaps the maſter of ſome new building Dives agris, dives poſitis in fænore nummis Hor. may, without the leaſt compunction for of fending the rules of perſpective, place figures of the ſmalleſt ſize above the vaſt doors of his apartments and falloons. I ſpeak here of thoſe ornaments which make part of the furniture ; not of figures which are often , and for good reaſons, ſet up promiſcuouſly in collections. The decorations of architecture are often as ill-choſen . Arms and trophies deck a hunting -houſe as nonſenſically, as Gany mede and the eagle, Jupiter and Leda, figure it among the reliefs of the brazen gates of St. Peter's church at Rome. Arts have a double aim : to delight and to inſtruct. Hence the greateſt landſcape painters think, they have fulfilled but half their 64 Reflexions on the Imitation, & c . their taſk in drawing their pieces without figures. Let the artiſt's pencil, like the pen of Ariſtotle, be impregnated with reaſon ; that, after having fatiated the eye, he rith the mind : and this he may obtain by Allegory ; inveſting, not hiding his ideas. Then, whether he chuſe ſome poetical object himfelf, or follow the dictates of others, he ſhall be inſpired by his art, ſhall be fired with the flame brought down from heaven by Prometheus, ſhall entertain the votary of art, and inſtruct the mere lover of it. may nou A L E T. А L E T T E R, CONTAINING OBJECTIONS AGAINST The foregoing REFLEXIONS . F - [ 67 ) A L Ε Τ Τ Ε R CONTAINING Objections againſt the foregoing REFLEXIONS. SIR, As you have written on the Greek arts and artiſts, I wiſh you had made your treatiſe as much the object of your caution as the Greek artiſts made their works ; which, before diſmiſſing them , they exhibited to publick view, in order to be examined by every body, andeſpecially by competentjudges of the art. The trial was held during the grand, chiefly the Olympian, games ; and all Greece was intereſted on Ætion's producing his picture of the nuptials of Alexander and Roxana. You, Sir, wanted a Proxenidas F 2 to 68 Objections againſt Х to be judged by, as well as that artiſt ; and had it not been for your myſterious con cealment, I might have communicated your treatiſe, before its publication , to ſome learned men and connoiſſeurs of my acquaintance, without mentioning the author's name. One of them viſited Italy twice, where he devoted all his time to a moſt anxious examination of painting, and particularly feveral months to each eminent picture, at the very place where it was painted ; the only method, you know , to form a con noiſſeur. The judgment of a man able to tell you which of Guido's altar- pieces is painted on taffeta, or linnen , what ſort of wood Raphael chofe for his transfiguration , & c. the judgment of ſuch a man, I fancy, muſt be allowed to be deciſive. Another of my acquaintance has ſtudied antiquity : he knows it by the very ſmell ; Callet & Artificem folo deprendere Odore. Sectan . Sat. He the foregoing Reflexions. 69 He can tell you the number of knots on Hercules's club ; has reduced Neſtor's goblet to the modern meaſure : nay , is ſuſpected of meditating ſolutions to all the queſtions pro poſed by Tiberius to the grammarians. A third , for ſeveral years paft, has neglect ed every thing but hunting after ancient coins. Many a new diſcovery we owe to him ; eſpecially ſome concerning the hiſtory of the ancient coiners ; and, as I amtold, he is to rouſe the attention of the world by a Pro dromusconcerning the coiners of Cyzicum . What a number of reproaches might you have eſcaped, had you ſubmitted your Eſſay to the judgment of theſegentlemen ! they were pleaſed to acquaint me with their objections, and I ſhould be ſorry, for your honour, to ſee them publiſhed . Among other objections, the first is ſur prized at your paſſing by the two Angels, in your deſcription of the Raphael in the royal cabinet at Dreſden ; having been told , that a Bologneſe painter, in mentioning this piece, which inde p .37 F 3 70 Objections againſt which he ſaw at St. Sixtus's at Piacenza, breaks into theſe terms of admiration : O ! what Angels of Paradiſe " ! by which he fuppofes thoſe Angels to be the moſt beau tiful figures of the picture. The ſame perſon would reproach you for having deſcribed that picture in the manner of Raguenet ". The ſecond concludes the beard of Lao coon to be as worthy of your attention as his contracted belly : for every admirer of Greek works, ſays he, muſt pay the ſame reſpect to the beard of Laocoon, which fa ther Labat paid to that of the Moſes of Mi chael Angelo . This learned Dominican, Qui mores hominum multorum vidit &urbes, has, after ſo many centuries, drawn from b a Lettere d'alcuni Bologneſi, Vol. I. p. 159. Compare a deſcription of a St. Sebaſtian of Bec cafumi, another of a Hercules and Antæus of Lan franc, &c. in Raguenet's Mortumens de Rome, Paris, 12mo. this the foregoing Reflections. 71 this very ſtatue an evident proof of the true faſhion in which Mofes wore his own indi vidual beard, and whoſe imitation muſt, of courſe, be the diſtinguiſhing mark of every true Jew , There is not the leaſt ſpark of learning, ſays he , in your remarks on the Peplon of the three veſtals : he might perhaps, on the very inflection of the veil, have diſcovered to you as many curioſities as Cuper himſelf found on the edge of the veil of Tragedy in the Apotheoſis of Homer . We alſo want proof of the veſtals being • Labat voyage en Eſpagne & en Ital . T. III. p. 213. “ Michel Ange étoit auffi favant dans l'antiquité que dans l'anatomie, la ſculpture, la peinture , et « l'architecture ; et puiſqu'il nous a repreſenté Moyſe avec une ſi belle et fi longue barbe, il eſt ſûr, et “ doit paſſer pour conſtant, que le prophete la por “ toit ainfi ; et par une conſequence neceſſaire les Juifs, qui pretendent le copier avec exactitude, et « qui font la plus grande partie de leur religion de “ l'obſervance des uſages qu'il a laiſſé, doivent avoir s de la barbe comme lui, ou renoncer à la qualité 66 de Juifs.” & Apotheof. Homeri, p. 81, 82. really F4 1 72 Objections againſt really Greek performances : our reaſon fails us too often in the moſt obvious things. If unhappily the marble of theſe figures ſhould be proved to be no Lychnites, they are loſt, and your treatiſe too : had you but ſlightly told us their marble was large-grained, that would have been a ſufficient proof of their authenticity ; for it would be ſomewhat dif ficult to determine the bigneſs of the grains with ſuch exactneſs as to diftinguiſh the Greek marble from the Roman of Luna, But the worſt is, they are even denied the title of veſtals. Thethird mentioned ſome heads of Livia and Agrippina, without that pretended pro file of your's. Here he thinks you had the moſt lucky occaſion to talk of that kind of noſe by the ancients called Quadrata, as an ingredient of beauty. But you no doubt know, that the noſes of ſome of the moſt famous Greek ſtatues, viz. the Medicean Venus, and the Picchinian Meleager, are much the foregoing Reflexions. 73 much too thick for becoming the model of beauty, in that kind, to our artiſts. I ſhall not, however, gall you with all the doubts and objections raiſed againſt yout treatiſe, and repeated to nauſeouſneſs, upon the arrival of an Academician , the Margites of our days, who, being ſhewed yourtreatiſe, bemgshuwnhosgave it a flight glance, then laid it aſide, offended as it were at firſt ſight. But it was eaſy to perceive that he wanted his opinion to be aſked, which we accordingly all did , « The author, ſaid he very peremptorily, feems not to have been at much pains with this treatiſe : I cannot find above four or five quotations, and thoſe negligently inſerted ; no chapter, no page, cited ; he certainly col lected his remarks from books which he is aſhamed to produce.” Yet cannot I help introducing another gentleman, ſharp - fighted enough to pick out ſomething that had eſcaped all my at tention ; viz , that the Greeks were the firſt 74 Objections againſt firſt inventors of Painting and Sculpture ; an aſſertion, as he was pleaſed to expreſs him felf, entirely falſe, having been told it was the Egyptians, or ſome people ſtill more an çient, and unknown to him. Even the moſt whimſical humour may be turned to profit : nevertheleſs, I think it manifeſt that you intended to talk only of good Taſte in thoſe arts ; and the firſt Ele ments of an art have the ſame proportion to good Taſte in it, as the ſeed has to the fruit. That the art was ſtill in its infancy among the Egyptians, when it had attained the higheſt degree of perfection among the Greeks, : may be ſeen by examining one ſingle gem : you need only conſider the head of Ptolomaus Philopator by Aulus, and the two figures adjoining to it done by an Egyptianº, in order to be convinced of the little merit this nation could pretend to in point of art. Stoſch Pierr. Grav. pl. XIX . The the foregoing Reflexions. 75 f The 1 The form and taſte of their Painting have been aſcertained by Middleton. pictures of perſons as big as life, on two mummies in the royal cabinet of antiquities at Dreſden , are evident inſtances of their in capacity. But theſe relicks being curious, in ſeveral other reſpects, I ſhall hereafter ſubjoin a ſhort account of them , I cannot, my friend, help allowing ſome reaſon for ſeveral of theſe objections. Your negligence in your quotations was, no doubt, fomewhat prejudicial to your authenticity : the art of changing blue eyes to black ones, certainly deſerved an authority. You imi tate Democritus; who being aſked, “ What is man ? ” every body knows what was his reply. What reaſonable creature will ſub mit to read all Greek ſcholiafts ! Ibit eo, quo vis, qui Zonam perdidit Hor. Conſidering, however, how eaſily the hu f Monum Antiquit, p. 255. man 76 : Objections againſt man mind is biaffed, either by friendſhip or animoſity, I took occaſion from theſe ob jections to examine your treatiſe with more exactneſs ; and ſhall now, by the moſt im partial cenſure, ſtrive to clear myſelf from every imputation of prepoſſeſſion in your favour. I will paſs by the firſt and ſecond page, though ſomething might be ſaid on your compariſon of the Diana with the Nauficaa, and the application : nor would it have been amiſs, had you thrown ſome more light on the remark concerning the miſuſed pictures of Corregio ( very likely borrowed from Count Teſſin's letters ), by giving an account of the other indignities which the pictures of the beſt artiſts, at the ſame time, met with at Stockholm . It is well known that, after the ſurrender of Prague to Count Konigſmark, the 15th of July: 1648, the moſt precious pictures of the Emperor Rodolph II. were carried off X 3 to the foregoing Reflexions. 77 to Sweden . Among theſe were ſome pic tures of Corregio, which the Emperor had been preſented with by their firſt poffeffor, DukeFrederick of Mantua; two of them be ing the famous Leda, and a Cupid handling his bow ". Chriſtina, endowed at that time rather with fcholaftic learning than taſte, treated theſe treaſures as the Emperor Clau dius did an Alexander of Apelles; who or dered the head to be cut off, and that of Auguſtus to fill its place. In the ſame manner heads, hands, feet were here cut off from the moſt beautiful pictures; a car pet was plaſtered over with them , and the mangled pieces fitted up with new heads, & c . Thoſe that fortunately eſcaped the common havock, among which were the pieces of Corregio, came afterwards, toge ther with ſeveral other pictures, bought by 8 Puffendorf Rer. Suec. L. XX. §. 50. P. 796. b Sandrart Acad. P. II . L. 2. c. 6. p. 118. Conf. St.Gelais deſcr. des Tabl.du Palais Royal, p. 12. &ſeq. i Plin. Hiſt. Nat. L. 35. c. 10. the 78 Obječtions againſt xhorsar ihy regio,forfor9000 the Queen at Rome, into the poſſeſſion of the Duke of Orleans, who purchaſed 250 Sof them , and among thoſe eleven of Cor regio , Roman crowns . But I am not contented with your charg ing only the northern countries with bar bariſm , on account of the little eſteem they paid to the arts. If good taſte is to be judged in this manner, I am afraid for our French neighbours. For having taken Bonn, the reſidence of the Elector of Cologne, after the death of Max . Henry, they ordered the largeſt pictures to be cut out of their frames, without diſtinction , in order to ſerve for co verings to the waggons, in which the moſt valuable furniture of the electoral caſtle was carried off for France. But, Sir, do not preſume on my continuing with mere hiſto rical remarks : I ſhall proceed with jections; after making the two following ge neral obſervations. I. You have written in a ſtyle too con ciſe for being diſtinct. Were you afraid of being my ob 3 the foregoing Reflexions. 79 being condemned to the penalty of a Spartan , who could not reſtrain himſelf to only three words, perhaps that of reading Picciardin's Pifan War ? Diſtinctneſs is re quired where univerſal inſtruction is the end. Meats are to ſuit the taſte of the gueſts, rather than that of the cooks, Cæna fercula noftra Malim convivis quam placuiſe coquis. II. There appears, in almoft every line of yours, the moſt paſſionate attachment to antiquity ; which perhaps I ſhall convince you of, by the following remarks. The firſt particular objection I have to make is againſt your third page. Remem ber, however, that my paſſing by two pages is very generous dealing : non temere a me Quivis ferret idem : Hor. but let us now begin a formal trial. The 80 Objections againſt 1 The author talks of certain negligences in the Greek works, which ought to be .con fidered fuitably to Lucian's precepts concern ing the Zeus of Phidias : “ Zeus himſelf, not his footſtool ;” kthough perhaps he could not be charged with any fault in the foot - ſtool, but with a very grievous one in the ſtatue. Is it no fault that Phidias made his Zeus of ſo enormous a bulk, as almoſt to reach the cieling of the temple, which muſt in fallibly have been thrown down, had the god taken it in his head to riſe ? ' To have left the temple without any cieling at all , like that of the Olympian Jupiter at Athens, had been an inſtance of more judgment ". 'Tis but juſtice to claim an explication of what the author means by “ negligences”. He perhaps might be pleaſed to get a paff port, even for the faults of the ancients, by ſheltering them under the authority of . k Lucian de Hift. Scrib . i Strabo Geogr. L. VIII. p. 542. Vitruv. L. III . c . 1 . ſuch the foregoing Reflexions. 81 ſuch titles ; nay, to change them into beau ties, as Alcæus did the ſpot on the finger of his beloved boy. We too often view the blemiſhes of the ancients,' as a parent does thoſe of his children : Strabonem Appellat pætum pater, &pullum , maleparvus Si cui filius eft. Hor. If theſe negligences were like thoſe wiſhed for in the Jalyſus of Protogenes, where the chief figure was out- Ihone by a partridge, they might beconſidered as the agreeable neg ligée of a fine lady ; but this is the queſtion . Beſides, had the author conſulted his in tereſt, he never would have ventured citing the Diomedes of Diofcorides : but being too well acquainted with that gem , one of the moſt valued , moſt finiſhed monuments of Greek art ; and being apprehenſive of the prejudice that might ariſe againſt the meaner productions of the ancients, on diſcovering many faults in one ſo eminent as Diomedes ; G he 82 Objections againf he endeavoured to keep matters from being too nearly examined, and to ſoften every fault into negligence. How ! if by argument I ſhall attempt to ſhew that Dioſcorides underſtood neither perſpective, nor the moſt trivial rules of the motion of a human body ; nay, that he of fended even againſt poſſibility ? I'll venture to do it, though incedo per ignes Suppofitos cineri doloſo. Hor. And perhaps I am not the firſt diſcoverer of his faults : yet I do not remember to have ſeen any thing relative to them . The Diomedes of Diofcorides is either a fitting, or a riſing figure ; for the attitude is ambiguous. It is plain he is not fitting ;; and riſing is inconſiſtent with his action . Our body endeavouring to raiſe itſelffrom a ſeat, moves always mechanically towards its ſought-for centre of gravity, drawing back the the foregoing Reflexions. 83 the legs, which were advanted in ſitting " ; inſtead of which the figure ſtretches out his right leg. Every erection begins with ele vated heels, and in that moment all the weight of the body is ſupported only by the toes, which was obſerved by Felix , in his Diomedes : but here all reſts on the fole. Nor can Diomedes, (if we ſuppoſe him to be a ſitting figure, as he touches with his left leg the bottom of his thigh ) find , in raiſing himſelf, the centre of his gravity, only by a retraction of his legs, and of courſe cannot riſe in that poſture. His left hand reſting upon the bended leg, holds the palladion , whilſt his right touches negli gently the pedeſtal with the point of a ſhort ſword ; conſequently he cannot riſe, neither moving his legs in the natural and eaſy manner required in any erection, nor making > Borell. de motu animal. P. I. c. 18. prop . 142. p. 142. edit. Bernoue. • Stoſch . Pierr. Grav. pl . XXXV. uſe 1 84 Obje &tions againſt uſe of his arms to deliver himfelf from that uneafy ſituation. There is at the ſame time a fault com mitted againſt the rules of perſpective. The foot of the left bended leg, touch ing the cornice of the pedeſtal, ſhews it over -reaching that part of the floor, on which the pedeſtal and the right foot are ſituated , conſequently the line deſcribed by the hinder foot is the fore on the gem , and vice verſa. But allowing even a poffibility to that ſituation , it is contrary to the Greek cha racter, which is always diſtinguiſhed by the natural and eaſy. Attributes neither to be met with in the contorſions of Diomedes, nor in an attitude, the impoſſibility of which every one muſt be ſenſible of, in endeavour ing to put himſelf in it, without the help of former fitting. Felix, ſuppoſed to have lived after Diof corides, though preſerving the ſame attitude, has endeavoured to make its violence more natural, by oppoſing to him the figure of Ulyffes, the foregoing Reflexions. 85 Ulyſſes, who, as we are told, in order to bereave him of the honour of having ſeized the Palladion, offered to rob him of it, but being diſcovered, was repulſed by Diomedes ; which being his ſuppoſed action on the gem , allows violence of attitude P. Diomedes cannot be a fitting figure, for the Contour of his buttock and thigh is free, and not in the leaſt compreſſed : the foot of the bent leg is viſible, and the leg itſelf not bent enough . The Diomedes repreſented by Mariette is abfurd ; the left leg reſembling a claſped pocket-knife, and the foot being drawn up ſo high as to make it impoſſible in nature that it ſhould reach the pedeſtal ? Faults of this kind cannot be called neg. ligences, and would not be forgiven in any modern artiſt. Dioſcorides, ' tis true, in this renowned performance did but copy Polycletus, whoſe Stoſch Pierr. Grav. pl. XXXV. » 9 Mariette Pierr. Gray. T. II. n. 94. G 3 Dorypho 3 86 Ohjections againſt Doryphorus ( as is commonly agreed) was the beſt rule of human proportions'. But, though a copyiſt, Diofcorides eſcaped a fault which his maſter fell into . For the pe deſtal, over which the Diomedes of Poly cletus leans, is contrary to the moſt com mon rules of perſpective ; its cornices, which ſhould be parallel, forming two different lines. I wonder at Perrault's omitting to make objections againſt the ancient gems. I mean not to do any thing derogatory to the author, when I trace ſome of his parti cular obſeryations to their ſource. The food preſcribed to the young wreſtlers, in the remoter times of Greece, is mentioned by Pauſanias '. But if the author alluded to the paſſage which I have in view , why does he talk in general of milk - food, when Pauſanias particularly mentions ſoft cheeſe ? Stoſch Pierr. Grav. pl. LIV . Pauſanias, L. VI. c.7. p. 479. Dromeus the foregoing Reflexions 87 Dromeys of Stymphilos, we learn there, firſt introduced fleſh meat. My reſearches, concerning their myſterious art of changing blue eyes to black ones, have not ſucceeded to my wish . I find it mentioned but once, and that only by the bye by Dioſcorides . The author, by clear ing up this art, might perhaps have thrown a greater luſtre over his treatiſe, than by producing his new method of ſtatuary. He had it in his power to fix the eyes of the Newtons and Algarotti's, on a problem worth their attention , and to engage the fair ſex, bya diſcovery ſo advantageous to their charms, eſpecially in Germany, where, contrary to Greece , large, fine, blue eyes are more fre quently met with than black ones. There was a time when the faſhion re quired to be green eyed ; Et fi bel oeil vjert & riant &clair : Le Sire de Coucy, chanſ 1 • Diofcorid . de Re Medica, L. V. c. 179. Conf. Salmaf. Exercit. Plin . c. 15. p. 134. b . G4 But 88 Objections againſt X But I do not know whether art had any ſhare in their colouring. And as to the ſmall pox, Hippocrates might be quoted, if gram matical diſquiſitions ſuited mypurpoſe. However, I think, no effects of the ſmall pox on a face can be ſo much the reverſe of beauty, as that defect whichthe Athenians were reproachfully charged with, viz . a buttock as pitiful as their face was perfect ". Indeed Nature, in ſo ſcantily ſupplying thoſe parts, ſeemed to derogate as much from the Athe nian beauty, as, by her laviſhneſs, from that of the Indian Enotocets, whoſe ears, we are told, were large enough to ſerve them for pillows. As for opportunities to ſtudy the nudities, our times, I think, afford as advantageous ones as the Gymnaſies of the ancients. 'Tis the fault of our artiſts to make no uſe of that propoſed to the Pariſian artiſts, u Ariftoph. Nub . v. 1178. ibid. v. 1363. Et Scho liaft . Obſervaț. fur les arts, ſur quelques morceaux de peint. & ſculpt. expoſés au Louvre en 1748. p. 18 . W viz, the foregoing Reflexions. 89 viz. to walk , during the ſummer ſeaſon, along the Seine, in order to have a full view of the naked parts, from the ſixth to the fiftieth year. ' Tis perhaps to Michael Angelo's frequent ing ſuch opportunities that we owe his cele lebrated Carton of the Piſan war ', where the ſoldiers bathing in a river, at the found of a trumpet leap out of the water, and make hafte to huddle on their cloaths. One of the moſt offenſive paſſages of the treatiſe is, no doubt, the unjuſt debaſement of the modern ſculptors beneath the an cients. Theſe latter times are poſſeſſed of ſeveral Glycons in muſcular heroic figures, and, in tender youthful female bodies, of more than one Praxiteles. Michael Angelo, Algardi, and Sluter, whoſe genius embel Jiſhed Berlin , produced muſcular bodies, Invikti membra Glyconis, Hor.

• Ripoſo di Raffaello Borghini, L. I. p. 46,

in ܘܟ Objections againſt in a ſtyle rivalling that of Glycon himſelf ; and in delicacy the Greeks are perhaps even outdone by Bernini, Fiammingo, Le Gros, Rauchmüller, Donner. The unſkilfulneſs of the ancients, in ſhaping children, is agreed upon by our ar tiſts, who, I ſuppoſe, would for imitation chooſe a Cupid of Fiammingo rather than of Praxiteles himſelf. The ſtory of M. An gelo's placing a Cupid of his own by the ſide of an antique one, in order to inform our times of the fuperiority of the ancient art, iş of no weight here ; for no work of Michael Angelo can bring us ſo near perfection as Nature herſelf. I think it no hyperbole to advance, that Fiammingo, like a new Prometheus, pro duced creatures which art had never ſeen before him , For, if from almoſt all the children on ancient gems ' and re y See the Cupid by Solon, Stoſch. 64. the Cupid leading the Lioneſs, by SosTRATUS, Stoſch . 66. and 2 Child and Faun, by AXEOCHUS, Stofch 20. 2 liefs the foregoing Reflexions. 91 liefs , we may form a concluſion of the art itſelf, it wanted the true expreſſion of child hood, as looſer forms, more milkineſs, and unknit bones. Faults which, from the epoch of Raphael, all children laboured under, till the appearance of Francis Queſnoy, called Fiammingo, whoſe children having the ad vantages of ſuitable innocence and nature, became models to the following artiſts, as in youthful bodies Apollo and Antinous are : an honour which Algardi, his contemporary, may be allowed to ſhare. Their models in clay are, by our artiſts, eſteemed ſuperior to all the antique marble children ; and an artiſt of genius and ta lents aſſured me, that during a ſtay of ſeven years at Vienna, he ſaw not one copy taken from an ancient Cupid in that academy. Neither do I know on what ſingular idea of beauty, the ancient artiſts founded their cuſtom , of hiding the foreheads of their z Vide Bartoli Admiranda Rom, fol. 50, 51.61 . Zanetti Stat. Antich . P. II . fol. 33. children 92 Objections againſt Thus a children and youths with hair. Cupid was repreſented by Praxiteles ; thus a Patroclus, in a picture mentioned by Phi loſtratus : and there is no ſtatue nor buſt, no gem nor coin of Antinous, in which we do not find him thus dreſſed . Hence, per haps, that gloom, that melancholy, with which all the heads of this favourite of Ha drian are marked. Is not there in a free open brow more, nobleneſs and ſublimity ? and does not Bernini ſeem to have been better acquainted X with beauty than the ancients, when he re moved the over - ſhadowing locks from the forehead of young Lewis XIV, whoſe buſt he was then executing ? “ Your Majeſty, faid Bernini, is King, and may with con fidence ſhew your brow to all the world . " From that time King and court dreſſed their hair à la Bernini . a Vide Calliftrat. p. 903. o Vide Philoftrati Heroic. • Vide Baldinucci vita del Caval. Bernin. p. 47. His the foregoing Reflexions. 93 His judgment of the bas - reliefs on the monument of Pope Alexander VI ". leads us to ſome remarks on thoſe of antiquity . « The ſkill in bas- relief, ſaid he, conſiſts in giving the air of relief to the flat : the figures of that monument ſeem what they are indeed , not what they are not. ” The chief end of bas -relief is to deck thoſe places that want hiſtorical or allego rical ornaments, but which have neither cor nices ſufficiently ſpacious, nor proportions regular enough to allow groupes of entire ſtatues : and as the cornice itſelf is chiefly intended to ſhelter the ſubordinate parts from being directly or indirectly hurt, no bas relief muſt exceed the projection thereof ; which would not only make the cornice of no uſe, but endanger the figures themſelves. The figures of ancient bas -reliefs Thoot commonly ſo much forward as to become almoſt round. But bas- relief being founded Vide Baldinuccivita del Caval. Bernin . p . 72 . on 94 Objections againſt on fiction , can only counterfeit reality ; its perfection is well to imitate ; and a natural mafs is againſt its nature if flat, ought to appear projected, and vice verſa. If this be true, it muſt of courſe be allowed that figures wholly round are inconſiſtent with it, and are to be conſidered as folid marble pillars built upon the theatre, whoſe aim is mere illufion ; for art, as is ſaid of tragedy, wins truth from fiction , and that by truth . To art we often owe charms ſuperior to thoſe of nature : a real garden and vegetating trees, on the ſtage, do not affect us ſo agree ably, as when well expreffed by the imitating art. A roſe of Van Huifum , mallows of Veerendal, bewitch us more than all the darlings of the moſt ſkilful gardener : the moſt enticing landſcape, nay, even the charms of the Theffalian Tempe, would not, perhaps, affect us with that irreſiſtible de light which, flowing from Dietrick’s pencil, Dietrichi enchants our ſenſes and imagination. By the foregoing Reflexions. 95 By ſuch inſtances we may ſafely form a judgment of the ancient bas-reliefs : the royal cabinet at Dreſden is poffeffed of two eminent ones : a Bacchanal on a tomb, and a ſacrifice to Priapus on a large marble vaſe. The bas - relief claims a particular kind of ſculpture ; a method that few have ſuc ceeded in, of which Matielli may be an in ſtance. The Emperor Charles VI. having ordered fome models to be prepared by the moſt renowned artiſts, in bas-relief, intend ed for the ſpiral columns at the church of S. Charles Borromäo ; Matielli, already fa mous, was principally thought of; but how ever refuſed the honour of fo conſiderable a work , on account of the enormous bulk of his model, which requiring too great cavi ties, would have diminiſhed the maſs of the ftone, and of courſe weakened the pillars. Mader was the artiſt , whoſe models were univerſally applauded, and who by his ad mirable execution proved that he deſerved that 96 the foregoing Reflexions. that preference. Theſe bas- reliefs repreſent the ſtory of the patron of this church . It is in general to be obſerved, firſt, that this kind of ſculpture admits not indifferently of every attitude and action ; as for inſtance, of too ſtrong projections of the legs. Se condly, That, beſides diſpoſing of the ſeveral modelled figures in well- ranged groupes, the diameter of every one ought to be applied to the bas- relief itſelf, by a leſſened ſcale : as for inſtance, the diameter of a figure in the model being one foot, the profile of the ſamne, according to its ſize, will be three inches, or leſs : the rounder a figure of that diameter, the greater the ſkill. Commonly the relief wants perſpective, and thence ariſe moſt of its faults . Though I propoſed to make only a few remarks on the ancient bas-relief, I find myſelf, like a certain ancient Rhetor, almoſt under a neceſſity of being new-tuned. I have ſtrayed beyond my limits ; though at the faine time I remembered that there is a law the foregoing Reflexions. 97 law among commentators, to content them ſelves with bare remarks on the contents of a treatiſe : and alſo ſenſible that I am writing a letter, not a book, I conſider that I may draw ſome inſtructions for my own uſe, ut vineta egomet cædam mea, Hor, from ſome people's impetuoſity againſt the author ; who, becauſe they are hired for it, ſeem to think that writing is confined to them alone. The Romans, though they worſhipped the deity Terminus ( the guardian God of li mits and borders in general ; and, if it pleaſe theſe gentlemen, of the limits in arts and ſciences too ), allowed nevertheleſs an uni verſal unreſtrained criticiſm : and the de ciſions of ſome Greeks and Romans, in matters of an art, which they did not practiſe, ſeem nevertheleſs authentick to our artiſts. H. Nor 98 Objections againſt Nor can I find, that the keeper of the temple of peace at Rome, though poſſeſſed of the regiſter of the pictures there, pre tended to monopolizeremarks and criticiſms upon them ; Pliny having deſcribed moſt of them . Publica materies privati juris fit Hor. " Tis to be wilhed, that, rouſed by a Pam philus and an Apelles, artiſts would take up the pen themſelves, in order to diſcover the myſteries of the art to thofe that know how to uſe them , Ma di coſtor', che à lavorar s'accingono, Quattro quinti, perDio, non fanno leggere. Salvator Roſa, Sat. III. Two or three of theſe are to be commend ed ; the reſt contented themſelves with giv ing fome hiſtorical accounts of the frater nity. But what could appear more auſpi cious to the improvement of the art, even by I Sistle Giandomenico Ottonetti Car. Piemo Berrettini da Cortona , the foregoing Reflexions. 99 by the remoteſt poſterity, than the work attempted by the united forces of the cele brated Pietro da Cortona " and Padre Otto nelli ? Nevertheleſs this fame treatiſe, except only a few hiſtorical remarks, and theſe too to be met with in an hundred books, ſeems good for nothing, but Ne fcombris tunicæ defint, piperique cuculli. Sectan . Sat. How trivial, how mean are the great Pouſin's reflexions on painting, publiſhed by Bellori, and annexed to his life of that artiſt ' ? Another digreſſion ! -let me now again reſume the character of your Ariſtarchus. You are bold enough to attack the au thority of Bernini, and to challenge a man, the bare mention of whoſe name would do honour to any treatiſe. It was • Trattato della pittura e ſcultura, uſo et abuſo loro, compoſto da un theologo e da un pittore. Fio renza, 1652. 4. i Bellori yite de ' pittori , &c. p. 300. H 2 Bega 100 Objections againg Bernini, you ought to recollect, Sir, who at the ſame age in which Michael Angelo performed his Studiolos, viz . in his eighteenth year, produced his Daphne, as a convincing inſtance of his intimacy with the ancients, at an age in which perhaps the genius of vidiKarhuls Raphael was yet labouring under darkneſs korhiatth her and ignorance ! Briod ol lehe. Bernini was one of thoſe favourites of nature, who produce at the ſame time ver nal blofſoms and autumnal fruits ; and I think it by no means probable, that his ſtu dying nature in riper years miſled either him or his diſciples. The ſmoothneſs of his fleſh was the reſult of that ſtudy, and imparted to the marble the higheſt poſſible degree of life and beauty. Indeed ' tis nature which endows art with life, and “ vivifies forms, as Socrates ſays ", and Clito the ſculptor al lows. The great Lyſippus, when aſked & Richardſon , Tom . III . p. 94. Xenophon Memorab. L. III . c. 6 , . which the foregoing Reflections. IOI which of his anceſtors he had choſen for his maſter, replied, " None ; but nature alone.” It is not to be denied, that the too cloſe imitation of antiquity is very often apt to lead us to a certain barrenneſs, unknown to thoſe who imitate natuře : various her ſelf, nature teaches variety, and no votary of her's can be charged with a fameneſs : and ſome other votaries of antiquity, repeated the ſame face in many of their works. A certain ideal beauty was become ſo familiar to them, as to ſlide into their figures even againſt their will . But as for ſuch an imitation of nature, as is quite regardleſs of antiquity , I am entirely of the author's opinion ; though I ſhould have choſen other artiſts as inſtances of following nature in painting. Jordans certainly has not met with the re gard due to his merit ; let me appeal to an authority univerſally allowed . - There is , H 3 ſays 102 Objections againſt ſays Mr. d'Argenville, more expreſſion and “ truth in .Jordans, than even in Rubens. “ Truth is the baſis and origin of per “ fection and beauty ; nothing, of any kind “ whatever, can be beautiful or perfect, « without being truly what it ought to be, ” without having all it ought to have .” The ſolidity of this judgment preſup poſed, Jordans, according to Rochefoucault's maxims, ought rather to be ranked among the greateſt originals, than among the mi micks of common nature, where Rembrandt may fill up his place, as Raoux or Vatteau, that of Stella ; though all theſe painters do nothing but what Euripides did before them they draw man ad vivum . There are no trifles, no meanneſſes in the art, and if we recollect of what uſe the Caricatura was to Bernini, we ſhould be cautious how we paſs.judgment even on the Dutch forms. That great genius, they ſay ', owed to this i i Vide Baldinucci vita del Cav. Bernini, p. 66. monſter the foregoing Reflexions. 103 monſter of the art, a diſtinction for which he was ſo eminent, the “ Franchezza del Tocco.” When I reflect on this, I am forced to alter my former opinion of the Carica tura , ſo far as to believe that no artiſt ever acquired a perfection therein without gaining a farther improvement in the art itſelf. " It is, ſays the author, a peculiar diſtinction of the ancients to have gone beyond nature : " our artiſts do the ſamein their Caricaturas: but of what avail to them are the voluminous works they have publiſhed on that branch of the art The author lays it down, in the pe remptory ſtyle of a legiſlator, that “ Pre ciſion of Contour can only be learned from the Greeks ;” but our academies unani mouſly agree, that the ancients deviate from a ſtrict Contour in the clavicles, arms, knees, & c. over which, in ſpite of apophyſes and bones, they drew their ſkin as ſmooth as over mere fleſh ; whereas our academies teach to draw the bony and cartilaginous parts, H4 104 Objections againſt parts, more angularly, but the fat and fleſhy ones more ſmooth , and carefully to avoid falling into the ancient ſtyle. Pray, Sir, can there be any error in the advices of acade mies in corpore ? Parrhapus himſelf, the father of Contour, was not, by Pliny's account , maſter enough to hit the line by which completeneſs is di ſtinguiſhed from ſuperfluity : Thunning cor pulency he fell into leanneſs : and Zeuxis's Contour was perhaps like that of Rubens, if it be true that, to augment the majeſty of his figures, he drew with more complete neſs. His female figures he drew like thoſe of Homer ' , of robuſt limbs : and does not even the tendereſt of poets, Theocritus, draw his Helen as fleſhy and tall ™ as the Venus of Raphael in the aſſembly of the gods in the little Farneſe ? Rubens then, for painting like Homer and Theocritus, needs no apo logy. Plin . Hift . Nat. L. 35. C. 10. . 1 Quintilian . Inftit. Or. L. 12. c. 19.

• Idyll . 18. v. 29.

The the foregoing Reflexions: 105 The character of Raphael, in the treatiſe, is drawn with truth and exactnefs : but well may we aſk the author, as Antalcidas the Spartan aſked a ſophiſt, ready to burſt forth in a panegyrick on Hercules, « Who blames him ? ” The beauties however of the Ra phael at Dreſden , eſpecially thepretended ones of the Jeſus, are ſtill warmly diſputed . What you admire, we laugh at. Lucian , Ep. 1. Why did not he rather diſplay his patriotiſm againſt thoſe Italian connoiffeurs, whoſe fqueamiſh ſtomachs riſe againſt every Flemiſh production ? Turpis Romano Belgicus ore color. Propert. L. II. Eleg. 8. And indeed are not colours fo effential, that without them no picture can aſpire to uni verſal applauſe ? Do not their bewitching charms cover the moſt grievous faults? They are the harmonious melody of painting ; what 106 Objections againſt whatever is offenſive vaniſhes by their fplen , dor, and ſouls animated with their beauties are abſorbed in beholding, as the readers of Homer are by his flowing harmony, ſo as to find no faults, Theſe, joined to that important ſcience of Chiaro -Oſcuro, are the characteriſticks of Flemiſh painting. Agreeably to affect our eye is the firſt thing in a picture" , which to obtain, obvious charms are wanted ; not ſuch as ſpring only from reflection . Colouring moreover be longs peculiarly to pictures ; whereas deſign ought to be in every draught, print, & c . and indeed ſeems eaſier to be attained than co louring The beſt colouriſts, according to a cele brated writer ', have always come after the inventors and contouriſts ; we all know the vain attempts of the famous Pouſſin . In fhort, all thoſe ? De Pile's Converſat, ſur la peint. Du Bos Refl. ſur la poeſie & ſur la peint. Qui the foregoing Reflexions. 107 Qui rem Romanam Latiumque augeſcere ſtudent, Ennius, muſt here acknowledge the ſuperiority of the Flemiſh art ; the painter being really but nature's mimick , is the more perfect the better he mimicks her.. Af heic, quem nunc tu tam turpiter increpuiſti, Ennius. the delicate Van der Werf, whoſe perform ances, worth their weight in gold, are the last alishemustornaments of royal cabinets only, has made nature inimitable to every Italian pencil; he allures the connoiſſeur's eye as well as that of the clown ; and, as an Engliſh poet ſays, • that no pleaſing poet ever wrote ill, " ſurely the Flemiſh painter obtained that ap plauſe which was denied to Pouſſin. I ſhould be glad to ſee many pictures as happily fancied, as well compoſed , as en ticingly painted as ſome of Gherard Laireſſe : Jet me appeal to every unprepoſſeſſed artiſt at in thon days. 108 Obječtions againſt at Paris, acquainted with the Stratonice, the moſt eminent, and no doubt the firſt ranked picture in the cabinet of Mr. de la Boixieres P. The ſubject is of no trivial choice: King Seleucus I. º reſigned his wife Stratonice, a daughter of Demetrius Poliorcetes, to his fon Antiochus, whom a violent paſſion for his mother-in -law had thrown into a dangerous fickneſs : after many unſucceſsful inquiries, the phyſician Eraſiſtratus diſcovered the true cauſe, and found that the only means of reſtoring the prince's health, was, the con deſcenſion of the father to the love of his fon : the King reſigned his Queen, and at the ſame time declared Antiochus King of the Eaſt. The Stratonice was twice painted by Laireſſe. The picture we talk of is the ſmalleſt of the two : the figure is about one foot and a half, and differs from the other in the diſpoſition of the Parerga. 9 See Plutarch . in Demetr. & Lucian, de Dea Syria. Ştratonice, the foregoing Reſtexions. 109 Stratonice, the chief perſon, is the nobleſt figure, a figure worthy Raphael himſelf. The charming Queen, Colle fob idæo vincere digna deas, Ovid . Art. with flow and heſitating ſteps, approaches the bed of her new lover ; but ſtill with the countenance of a mother, or rather of a fa cred veſtal. In the profile of her face you may read ſhame mingled with gentle reſig nation to the will of her lord . She has the ſoftneſs of her ſex, the majeſty of a queen , an awful ſubmiſſion to the ſacred ceremony, and all the fageneſs required in ſo extraor dinary and delicate a ſituation . Drefled with a maſterly ſkill, the artiſt, from the colour of her cloaths, may learn how to paint the purple of the ancients ; for it is not generally known that it reſembled fade ing, ruddy, vine-leaves ' . X I Vide Lettre de Mr. Huet ſur la Pourpre : dans les Diſſertat. de Tilladet. Tom . II. p. 169 .. Behind I 100 Objections againſt Behind her ſtands the King, dreſſed in a darker habit, in order to give the more re lief to the Queen, to ſpare confuſion to her, ſhame to the Prince, and not to interrupt his joy. Expectation and acquieſcence are blended in his face, which is taken from the profile of his beſt coins. The Prince, a beautiful half-naked youth , ſitting in his bed, has ſome reſemblance of his father ; his pale face bears witneſs of the fever, that lately had raged in his veins ; but fancy ſees returning health , not ſhame, in that ſoft - riſing ruddineſs diffuſed over his cheeks. The phyſician and prieſt Eraſiſtratus, ve nerable like the Calchas of Homer, ſtand ing before the bed, is the only ſpeaker, au thoriſed by the King, whoſe will he declares to the Prince ; and whilft, with one hand, he leads the Queen to the embraces of her lover, with the other he preſents him with the diadem . Joy and aſtoniſhment flaſh from the foregoing Reflexions from the Prince's face on the approach of his Queen darting all the foulin miffive love : though nobly reſtrained by reverence, he bends his head , and ſeems to compriſe his happineſs in a ſingle thought. The characters indeed are diſtributed with ſo much ingenuity, that they ſeem to give a luſtre and energy to each other. The largeſt ſhare of light is diſplayed on Stratonice : ſhe claims our firſt regard. The prieſt, though in a weaker light, is raiſed by his geſture: he is the ſpeaker, and around him reign folemn ſtillneſs and atten tion . The Prince, the ſecond perſon, has a larger ſhare of light; and though the artiſt, led by his ſkill, choſe rather to make a beautiful Queen the chief ſupport of his groupe than a ſick Prince, He nevertheleſs maintains his due rank, and becomes the moſt eminent perſon of the whole, by his expref 112 Objections againſt expreſſion. His face contains the greateſt ſecrets of the art, Quales nequeo monſtrare &fentio täntum . Juvenal. Sat. VII. Even thoſe motions of the ſoul, which otherwiſe ſeem oppoſite to each other, mingle here with peaceful harmony ; ' a timid red ſpreading over his ſickly face, an nounces health , like the faint glimmerings of the morn , which , though veiled by night, announce the day, and even a bright one. The genius and taſte of the artiſt ſhines forth in every part of his work : even the vaſes are copied from the beſt antique ones ; the table before the bed, is, like Homer's, of ivory. The diſtances behind the figures repre fent a magnificent Greek building, whoſe decorations ſeem allegorical. The roof of a portal is ſupported by Cariatides embracing each other, as images of the tender friend ſhip the foregoing Reflexions. 113 ſhip between father and ſon, and alluding, at the ſame time, to the nuptial cere mony. Though faithful to hiſtory, the painter was nevertheleſs a poet : in order to repreſent ſome circumſtances, he filled even the fur niture with ſentiments. The Sphinxes by the Prince's bed allude to his problematic fickneſs, the enquiries of Eraſiſtratus, and his fagacity in diſcovering its true cauſe. I have been told that ſome artiſts, when conſidering this picture, and perceiving the Prince's arm (perhaps Ja trifle too big, went off without enquiring into the ſubject itſelf. Should even Minerva herſelf, as ſhe once did to Diomedes, attempt to de liver ſome people from the miſt they labour under, by heaven ! the attempt were vain ! young Italian pauci dignoſcere poſſunt Vera bona , atque illis multum diverſa , remota Erroris nebula. Juy. X. I have 114 Obje£ tions againſt I have run into this long digreſſion , in order to throw ſome light on one of the firſt productions of the art, which is neverthe leſs but little known. The idea of noble fimplicity and ſedate grandeur in Raphael's figures, might rather, as two eminent authors expreſs it ', be called " ſtill life. ” It is indeed the ſtandard of the Greek art : however, indiſcreetly commended to young artiſts, it might beget as dangerous conſequences, as precepts of energetick con ciſeneſs in the ſtyle ; the direct method to make it barren and unpleaſing. “ In youths, ſays Cicero , there muſt “ be ſome ſuperfluity , fomething to be taken " off : prematurity ſpoils the juices, and it " is eaſier to lop the young rank branches of “ 'a vine, than to reſtore its vigour to a worn out trunk.” Not to mention, that figures wanting geſture would, by the bulk • St. Real Cæſarion , T. II . Le Blanc Lettre ſur l'Expof. des Ouvrages de Peint, &c. 1747. De Oratore , L. II . c. 21 . 2 of the foregoing Reflexions. 115 of mankind, be received as a ſpeech before the Areopagites, where, by a ſevere law , the ſpeaker was forbid to raiſe any paſſions, though ever ſo gentle ": nay, pictures of this kind would be ſo many portraits of young Spartans, who, with hands hid un der their coats, and down - caſt eyes, ſtalk fc Neither am I quite of the author's opi nion with regard to allegory ; the applying of which would too frequently do in paint ing, what was done in geometry by intro ducing algebra : the one would ſoon be as difficult as the other, and painting would degenerate into Hieroglyphicks. The author attempts, in vain, to perſuade us, that the majority of the Greeks thought as the Egyptians. There was no more learn ing in the painting of the platfond of the temple of Juno at Samos, than in that of the Farneſe gallery. It repreſented the love W • Ariſtot. Rhet. L. I. c. 1. §. 4. Xenophon Reſp. Laced . c. 3. S. 5. I 2 intrigues 116 Objections againſt int intrigues of Jupiter and Juno ?: and, in the front of a temple of Ceres at Eleuſis, there was nothing but repreſentations of a ceremony at the rites of that goddeſs '. How to repreſent abſtract ideas I do not yet diſtinctly conceive. There may be the fame difficulties which attend the endeavours of repreſenting to the ſenſes a mathematical point - perhaps nothing leſs than impoffibi lity ; and Theodoretus ? has ſome reaſon in confining painting to the ſenſes. For thoſe Hieroglyphicks which hint at abſtract ideas, in ſuch a manner as to expreſs, for inſtance », youth by the number XVI ; impoſſibility by two feet ſtanding on water : thoſe, I ſay, are monograms, not images : to indulge them in painting is foſtering chimæras, is X Origines Contra Celf. L. IV. p. 196. Edit. Cantabr. y Perrault ſur Vitruve Explic. de la Planche IX. p. 62. Z Dialog. Inconfuſ. p. 76. Horapoll. Hierogl. c. 33. Eng. into Hom. p. 170. 2 Conf. Blackwell's adding દ the foregoing Reflexions 117 1 adding to Chineſe pictures Chineſe explica tions. An adverſary of allegory believes that Par rhafius, without any help from it, could re preſent the contradictions in the character of the Athenians ; that he did it perhaps in ſe veral pictures. Suppoſing which Et ſapit, & mecum facit, & Jove judicat æquo. Hor. The ſentence ofdeath pronounced againſt the leaders of the Athenian navy, after their victory over the Spartans near the Arginuſes, afforded the artiſt a very ſenſible and rich image, to repreſent the Athenians, at the ſame time, merciful and cruel. The famous Theramenes, one of the leaders, accuſed his fellow -chieftains of hav ing neglected to gather and bury the bodies of their Nain countrymen : a charge fufficient to rouſe the rage of the mob againſt the victors ; only ſix of whom had returned to Athens, the reſt having declined the ſtorm . I 3 Thera 1 118 Objections againſt Theramenes harangued the people in the moſt pathetick manner ; intermixing his ſpeech with frequent pauſes, in order to give vent to the loud plaints of thoſe who, in the battle, had loſt their parents or rela tions. He, at the ſame time, produced a man, who proteſted he had heard the laſt words of the drowned, imprecating the pub lick revenge on their leaders. In vain did Socrates, then a member of the council, with a few others, oppoſe the accuſation : the brave chieftains, inſtead of the honours they hoped for, were condemned to die. One of them was the only ſon of Pericles and Afpafia. Was it not in the power of Parrhaſius, who was then alive, to enlarge the mean ing of his picture beyond the extent of bare hiſtory, only by drawing the true cha racters of the authors of this ſcene, without the leaſt help from allegory ? It would have been in his power, had he lived in our days. Your the foregoing Reflexions. 119 Your pretenſions concerning allegory ſeem indeed as reaſonable an impoſition upon the painter, as that of Columella upon his far mer ; who wiſhed to find him à philoſo pher like Democritus, Pythagoras, or Eu doxus No better ſucceſs, in my opinion, is to be expected from applying allegory to deco rations : the author would, at leaſt, meet with as many difficulties as Virgil, when hammering on the names of a Vibius Cau dex, Tanaquil Lucumo, or Decius Mus; to fit them for his Hexameter. Cuſtom has given its fanction to the uſe of ſhells in decorations : and is not there as much nature in them as in the Corinthian capital ? You know its origin : a baſket ſet upon the tomb of a young Corinthian girl,, filled with ſome of her play -things, and co vered with a large brick , being overgrown . De Re ruſt. præf. ad L. I. $ . 32. p. 392. Edit. Gefn . I 4 with I 20 Objections againſt with the creeping branches of an acanthus, which had taken root under it, was the firſt occaſion of forming that capital . Cal limachus the ſculptor, ſurprized at the ele gant fimplicity of that compoſition, took thence a hint for enriching architecture with a new order, Thus this capital, deſtined to ſupport all the entablature of the column, is but a baf ket of flowers ; ſomething ſo apparently in conſiſtent with the ideas of architecture, that there was no uſe made of it in the time of Pericles: for Pocock thinks it ſtrange that the temple of Minerva at Athens had Doric, inſtead of Corinthian pillars. But time ſoon changed this ſeeming oddity into nature ; the baſket loft, by cuſtom , all its former offenſiveneſs, and Quodfuerat vitium defnit elle mora . Ovid, Art, & Vitruv. L. IV. c. I. d Travels, T. II, We the foregoing Reflexions. I 21 We acknowledge no Egyptian law to for bid arbitrary ornaments ; and ſo fond have the artiſts of all ages been, both of the growth and form of ſhells, as to change even the chariot of Venus into an enormous one. The ancile, that Palladium of the Ro mans, was ſcooped into the form of a ſhellº: we find them on antique lamps ". Nay, na ture herſelf ſeems to have produced their immenſe variety, and marvellous finuations, for the benefit of the art. I have no mind to plead the bad cauſe of our unſkilful decorators : only let me adduce the arguments uſed by a whole tribe, (if the artiſts will forgive the term ), in order to prove the reaſonableneſs of their art. The painters and ſculptors of Paris, en deavouring to deprive the decorators of the title of artiſts, by alledging that they em ployed neither their own intellectual facul ? Plutarch. Numa. p. 149. L. 14. Edit. Bryani. f Pafferii Lucern. ties, I 22 Objections againſt ties, nor thoſe of the connoiſſeurs, upon works not produced by nature, but rather the offsprings of capricious art ; the others are ſaid to have defended themſelves in the following manner : “ We are the followers « of nature : like the bark of a tree, yari ouſly carved, our decorations grow into “ various forms: then art joins ſportive na " ture, and corrects her : we do what the “ ancients did : conſult their decorations." Variety is the great and only rule to which decorators ſubmit. Perceiving that there is no perfect reſemblance between two things in nature, they likewiſe forſake it in their decorations ; and careleſs of anxious twining, leave it to the parts themſelves to find their like, as the atoms of Epicurus did . This liberty we owe to the very nation , which, after having nobly exceeded all the narrow bounds of ſocial formalities, beſtows ſo much pains upon communicating her improve ments to her neighbours. This ſtyle in de corations got the epithet of Barroque taſte, derived the foregoing Reflexions. 123 derived from a word ſignifying pearls and teeth of unequal ſize 8 . Shells have at leaſt as good a claim for being admitted among our decorations, as the heads of ſheep and oxen . You know that the ancients placed thoſe heads, ſtript of the ſkin , on the frizes, eſpecially of the Doric order, between the Triglyphs, or on the Metopes. We even meet with them on the Corinthian friſe of an old temple ofVeſta, at Tivoli " ; on tombs, as on one of the Metellus-family near Rome, and another of Munatius Plancus near Gaeta ' ; on vaſes, as on a pair in the royal cabinet at Dreſden. Some modern artiſts, finding them perhaps unbecoming, changed them into thunder bolts, like Vignola, or to roſes, like Palladio and Scamozzi . 8 Menage Diction. Etymol . v. Barroque. b Vide Deſgodez Edifices antiq . de Rome, p. gr. i Bartoli Sepolcri Antichi, p. 67. ibid . fig. 91 . k Perrault notes ſur Vitruv. L. IV . ch . 2. n. 21 . p. 118. We 124 Objections againſt We conlude from all this, that learning never had, nor indeed ought to have, any ſhare in an art ſo nearly related to what we call Lulus Naturæ . Thus the ancients thought: for, pray , what could be meant by a lizard on Men tor's cup ? ' The Pietiſquallentia terga lacerti Virg. G. IV. make, to be ſure, a lovely image amidſt the flowers of a Rachel Ruyſch , but a very poor figure on a cup. Of what myſterious meaning are birds picking grapes from vines, on an urn ? " Images, perhaps, as void of ſenſe, and as arbitrary, as the fable of Ga nymede embroidered on the mantle, which Æneas preſented to Cloanthus, as a reward of his victory in the naval games ". ? Martial, L. III. Ep. 41. 1 .

• Bellori Sepolchri ant. f. 99 .

Virgil , Æn. V. v. 250. & feq . To the foregoing Reflexions. 125 To cônclude : is there any thing contra dictory between trophies and the hunting houſe of a Prince ? Surely the author, though ſozealous a champion for the Greek taſte, cannot pretend to propoſe to us that of King Philip and the Macedonians, who, by the account of Pauſanias ', did not erect their own trophies. Diana perhaps, amidſt her nymphs and hunting -equipages, Qualis in Eurota ripis, aut per juga Cynthi, Exercet Diana choros, quam mille fecutæ , Hinc atque hinc glomerantur, Oreades Virg.

might better ſuit the place ; but we know that the antient Romans hung up the arms of their defeated enemies over the out- ſides of their doors, to be everlaſting monitors of bravery to every ſucceeding owner of the houſe. Can trophies, having the ſame de . Pauſanias, L. IX. c. 40. p. 794. Conf. Spanhem. Not. ſur les Cæſars de l'Emp. Julien. p. 240. fign , 126 Objections againſt, & c. ſign, ever be miſplaced on any building of the Great ? I wiſh for a ſpeedy anſwer to this letter. You cannot be angry at ſeeing it publiſhed. The tribe of authors now imitate the con duct of the ſtage, where the lover, with his ſoliloquy, entertains the pit. For the ſame reaſon I ſhall receive, with all my heart, an anſwer, Quam legeret tereretque viritim publicus ufus : Hor. for Hanc veniam petimuſque damuſque vi ciſim . Id. Α Ν A N ACCOUNT OF A M U M M Y, IN The Royal Cabinet of Antiquities at Dresden.

[ 129 ) Α Ν A C CO U N T OF A M U M M Y, IN : The Royal Cabinet of Antiquities at DRESDEN. Woman , MONG the Egyptian Mummies of the royal cabinet, there are two pre ſerved perfectly entire, and not in the leaſt damaged, viz. the bodies of a man and The former, among all thoſe that were brought into, and publickly known in Europe, is perhaps the only one of its kind ; on account of an inſcription thereon, which none of thoſe who have written on Mummies, except Della Valle alone, diſco K vered 130 An Account of a Mummy in the vered on thoſe bodies ; and Kircher, among all the drawings of Mummies communi cated to him, and publiſhed in his Oedipus, has but one, ( the fame which Della Valle had been poſſeſſed of,) with an inſcription ; though his wooden cut * is as faulty as all the " copies made afterwards On that Mummy there are theſe letters ET + TXÍ. This fame inſcription is on the royal Mummy, of which I propoſe to give a brief account, and in examining which I have employed all my attention , that I might be certain of its being genuine, and not drawn by a modern hand -from the inſcription of Della Valle : for ' tis well known; that thoſe bodies frequently paſs through the hands of Jews. But the letters are evidently drawn with the ſame blackiſh colour with which the face, hands, and feet are ſtained. The firſt letter on our Mummy has the form of

• Kircheri Oedip. Ægypt. T. III. p. 405, & 433.

• Bianchini Iftor. Univ. p . 412. . I a large Cabinet of Antiquities at Dreſden . 131 2. farge Greek E, expreſſed by Della Valle with an E angular, the other not being uſual in printing -preffes. All the four Mummies of the royal ca binet being bought at Rome, I propoſed to examine whether the Mummy with the in féription, was that which Della Valle was poffefſed of, and found that both the entire royal Mummies were exact reſemblances of thoſe deſcribed by him. Both, beſides the linnen bandages, of a Barracan - texture, rolled innumerable times around the bodies, are wrapt up in ſeveral (and, according to an obſervation made in England, in three) kinds of coarſer linnen ; which , by particular bandages of the girdle kind, is faſtened in ſuch a manner as to in volve even the ſmalleſt prominence of the face. The firſt covering is a nice bit of linnen , ſlightly tinged with a certain ground, • Nehem. Grew Muſæum Societ. Reg. Lond. 1681. fol. p . I. K 2 much 132 An Account of a Mummy in the much gile, decked with various figures, and with a painted one of the deceaſed . On the Mummy marked with the in ſcription, this figure repreſents a man, who died in the flower of life, with a thin curled beard, not as repreſented by Kircher, like an old man with a long pointed one. The colour of the face and hands is brown : the head encircled with gilt diadems,marked with the fockets of jewels. From the gold chain, painted around the neck, a fort of medal hangs down, marked with various characters, creſcents, &c. and this over-reaches the neck of a bird, that of a hawk perhaps, as on the breaſts of other Mummies. In the right hand of the figure is a diſh filled with a red ſtuff, which being like that uſed by the ſacrificers , thedeceaſed may be ſuppoſed to have been a prieſt. · The firſt and laſt finger of the left hand have rings ; and in d VideGabr.Bremond Viaggi nell'Egitto. Roma. 1579. 4. L. I. c. 15. p. 77. ¿ Clemens Alex. Strom. L. VI. p. 456. the Cabinet of Antiquities at Dreſden. 133 ! the hand itſelf there is ſomething round, of a dark brown colour ; which, as Della Valle pretends, is a well-known fruit. The feet and legs are bare, with ſandals ; the ſtrings of which appearing between the great toes, are , with a flip, faſtened on the foot itſelf. The inſcription, above-mentioned, is be neath the breaſt. The ſecond Mummyis the ſtill more re fined figure of a young woman. Among a great many medals, ſeemingly gilt, and other figures, there are certain birds, and quadrupeds ſomething analogous to lions ; and towards the extremities of the body there is an ox, perhaps an apis . Down from one of the neck -chains hangs a gilt image of the ſun . She has ear-rings, and double bracelets on both her arms: rings on each hand, and on every finger of the left one, but two on the firſt : whereas the right hand has but two : with this hand ſhe holds, like Iſis, a ſmall gilt veſſel, of the Greek Spondeion -kind, which was a ſymbol of the K 3 ferti 134 An Account of a Mummy in the fertility of the Nile, when heid by the god deſs . In the left hand there is a ſort of fruit, like an ear of corn, of a greeniſh caſt. The leaden ſeals, mentioned by Della Valle, ſtill remain on the firſt Mummy. Compare this deſcription with that in his travels , and you'll find the Mummies of the royal cabinet to be the ſame with thoſe, which were taken out of a deep well or cave, covered with fand, and ſold to this celebrated traveller by an Egyptian ; and I believe they were purchaſed from his heirs at Rome, though in the manuſcript catalogue, joined to that cabinet’of antiquities, there is not the leaſt hint of any ſuch purchaſe. I have no deſign to attempt an explica tion of the ornaments and figures ; fome re marks of that kind having already been made by Della Valle. The following ob ſervations concern only the inſcription. f Shaw, Voyage, T. II, p. 123. & Della Valle Viaggi. Lettr. 11. §. 9. p. 325. & {cq. The Cabinet of Antiquities at Dreſden . 135 . i The Egyptians, we know, employed a double character in expreſſing themſelves “, the ſacred and the vulgar : the firſt was what is called hieroglyphick ; the other contained the characters of their national language, and this is commonly ſaid to be loft. All we know is confined to the twen ty-five letters of their alphabet. Della Valle ſeems inclined to give an inſtance of the contrary, in that inſcription ; which Kircher, puſhing his conjectures ſtill farther, endeavours to lay down as a foundation for a new ſcheme of his, and to ſupport it by two other remains of the ſame kind. For, he attempts to prove ", that the dialect was the only difference between the old Egyptian and Greek tongue. According to his ta lent of finding what no body looks for, he makes free with ſome ancient hiſtorical ac counts ; upon which he obtrudes a fictitious

• Herodot. L. II . c. 36. Diod. Sic .

1 Plutarch . de Ifid . & Ofirid. p. 374. k Kircher Oed .I. c. ej. Prodrom . Copt. c. 7 . K 4 ſenſe, 136 An Account of a Mummy in the ſenſe, in order to make them tally with his ſcheme. Herodotus, according to him, tells us, that King Pfammetichus deſired ſome Greeks, who were perfect maſters of their language, to go over to Egypt, in order to inſtruct his people in the purity of the tongue. Hence he concludes, that there was but one lan guage in both countries. But that Greek hiſtorian ' gives an account entirely oppoſite : he tells us, that Pfammetichus, having re ceived ſome ſervices from the Carians and Ionians, permitted them to ſettle in Egypt, for the inſtruction of youth in the Greek language, in order to bring up interpreters. There is no ſolidity in the reſt of the Kir cherian arguments ; ſuch as thoſe deduced from the frequent voyages of the Greek ſages into Egypt, and the mutual commerce between the two nations ; which have not even the ſtrength of conjectures. For the i Herodot. L. II. c. 153. very Cabinet of Antiquities at Dreſden . 137 veryſkill of Democritus, in the facred tongue of the Babylonians and Egyptians ", proves only, that the travelling ſages learned the lan guages of the nations they converſed with . Nor does the teſtimony of Diodorus, that Attica was originally an Egyptian có lony " , ſeem to be here of any weight. The inſcription of the Mummy might in deed admit of Kircherian, or ſuch like con jectures, were the Mummy itſelf of the an tiquity pretended by Kircher. "Cambyſes, the conqueror of Egypt, partly exiled, and partly killed the prieſts ; from which fact Kircher confidently deduces as conſequences, the total abolition of the facred rites, and from that the ceaſing to embalm bodies. He again appeals to a paſſage of Herodotus , which, upon his word alone, others have as confidently quoted . Nay, a certain pedant m Diogen. Laert. v. Democr. Diodor. Sic. L. I. c. 29. Edit. Weffel. • Kircher Oedip I. c. - it. ejuſd . China illuſtra ta. III. C. 4. p. 151 . went 138 An Account of a Mummy in the went ſo far as to pretend, that the Egyptian cuſtom of painting their dead, upon the varniſhed linnen of the Mummies, ceaſed with the epoch of Cyrus '. But Herodotus fays not a word, either of the total abolition of the ſacred rites, or of the abolition of the cuſtom of preſerv ing the dead from putrefaction, after the time of Cambyſes ; nor does Diodorus Si culus give any ſuch hint : we may, on the contrary , from his account of the funeral rites of the Egyptians, rather conclude, that this cuſtom prevailed even in his time; that is to ſay, when Egypt was changed into a Ro man province. Hence it cannot be demonſtrated that our Mummy was embalmed before the Per ſian conqueſt.--- But ſuppoſing it to be of that date, is it a neceſſary conſequence that a body preſerved in the Egyptian manner, or even taken care of by their prieſts, ſhould be marked with Egyptian words ? P Alberti Engliſche Briefe, B Perhaps Cabinet of Antiquities at Drefden . 139 Perhaps it is the body of fome naturaliſed Ionian or Carian. We know that Pytha goras entered into the Egyptian confeſſion ; nay, even conſented to be circumciſed ”, in order to ſhorten his way to the myſteries of their prieſts. The Carians themſelves ob ſerved the facred folemnities of Iſis, and even went ſo far in their ſuperſtition , as to mangle their faces during the ſacrifices of fered to that deity ". Change the letter 1 , in the inſcription , into the diphthong el , and you have a Greek word: ſuch negligences are often to be met with in Greek marbles , and ſtill more in Greek ma nuſcripts ; and with the ſame termination it is to be found on a gem , and ſignifies, “ FAREWELL” , which was the uſual ejaculation addreſſed by the living to the de ceaſed ; the fame we meet with on ancient 9 Clem. Alex, Strom. L. I. p. 354. Edit. Pott. s Herodot. L. II . c. 61 . s Montfaucon Palæogr. Græc. L. III. c. 5. p. 230. Kuhn. Not. ad Paufan . L. II . p. 128. Auguſtin. Gem. P. II. 1. 32. epitaphs ; 140 An Account of a Mummy in the epitaphs"; public decrees " ; and of letters it was the final conclufion *. There is on an ancient epitaph the word ETHYXI ' ; the form of the Y on ancient ſtones and manuſcripts is exactly the ſame * with the third letter of ET+TXI, which was perhaps confounded with it. But fuppoſing the Mummy to be of later times, the adoption of a Greek word be comes yet eaſier. The round form of the e might be ſomething ſuſpicious, with regard to its pretended antiquity ; that form being ne ver found on the gems or coins before Au guftus “. But this ſuſpicion becomes of no weight, by ſuppoſing that the Egyptians a Gruter. Corp. Inſcr, p. DCCCLXI. IUtuX4179, Xarpele, &c. v Prideaux Marm . Oxon. 4. & 179.

• Demoſth . Orat. pro Corona, p. 485. 499. Edit,

Frc. 1604. y Gruter Corp. Inſcript. p. DCXLI. 8. z Montfaucon Palæogr. L. IV . c. 10. p . 336. 338. a Montf. L. I. C. 4. II. c. 6. p. 152. I conti Cabinet of Antiquities at Drefden . 141 ing ; continued their embalming, even after the time of that Emperor. However, the word cannot be an Egypá, tian one, being inconſiſtent with the remains of that ancient tongue in the modern Cop tick , as well as with their manner of writ. which was from the right to the left, as the Etrurians did ' ; whereas the word in queſtion ( like ſome Egyptian characters ",) is traced from the left to the right. As for the inſcription diſcovered by Maillet “, no interpreter has yet been found . The Gre cians, on the contrary, wrote in the occi dental manner, for fix hundred years be fore the chriſtian æra, witneſs the Sigæan inſcription , which is ſaid to be of that date . What has been ſaid relates alſo to an с b Herod . L. II. Deſcript. de l’Egypte, par Maſcriere, Lettr. VII. 23. • Deſcript. de l’Eg. L. c. e Chiſhul. Inſcr. Sig. p. 12. inſcrip 142 An Account of a Mummy, & c. inſcription : upon a piece of ſtone , with Egyptian figures, communicated to Kircher by Carolo Vintimiglia, a Palerman patri cian . The letters. ITIYIXI are two words, and fignify, “ Let the foul come.” ) . This ſtone has met with the ſame fate as the gem en graved with the head of Ptolomæus Philo : pator : for here an Egyptian has joined two random figures, and there the inſcription may be of a Greek hand . The litterati know what little change it wants to be orº thographical. f Kircher. Obeliſc. Pamph . c. 8. p . 147 cui A N A N S W E R TO THE FORE GOING L E T T E R, AND A further EXPLICATION of the SUBJECT. Bi1.61 en MIXÍLICVIIOOTTO 101 , 151 ( 145 ) A N A N S W E R TO THE FOREGOING L E T T E R, AND A Further EXPLICATION of the SUBJECT. 1 I COULD not preſume that ſo ſmall a treatiſe as mine would be thought of conſequence enough to be brought to a publick trial. As it was written only for a few connoiſſeurs, it ſeemed ſuperfluous to give it a learned air, by multiplying quotations. Artiſts want but hints : their taſk , accord ing to an ancient Rhetor, is “ to perform , not to peruſe; " conſequently every author, L who 146 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. who writes for them , ought to be brief. Being beſides convinced, that the beauties of the art are founded rather on a quick ſenſe , and refined taſte, than on profound meditation, I cannot help thinking that the principle of Neoptolemus “, “ to philoſo phize only with the few, " ought to be the chief conſideration in every treatiſe of this kind. Several paſſages of my Eſſay are ſuſcep tible of explications, and, having been pub lickly tried by an anonymous author, ſhould be explained and defended at the ſame time, if my circumſtances would permit me to en large '. As to his other remarks, the au thor, I hope, will gueſs at my anſwer, without my giving one explicitly .-- Indeed they do not require any. I am not in the leaſt moved by the cla- . mours .concerning thoſe pieces of Corregio, which , by undoubted accounts, were not a Cicero de Oratore , L. II . c. 37. ” The author was then preparing for a journey to Rome. only Anfwer to the foregoing Letter. 147 only brought to Sweden ', but even hung up in the ſtables at Stockholm . Reaſoning is of no uſe here : arguments of this kind admit of no other evidence but that of Æmilius Scaurus againſt Valerius of Sucro : “ He de nies ; I affirm : Romans ! 'tis yours to judge.” And why ſhould there be any thing more derogatory to the honour of the Swedes, in my repeating Count Tefin's relation, than in his giving it ? Perhaps, becauſe the learned author of the circumſtantial life of Queen Chriſtina omits her indiſcreet generoſity to wards Bourdon , and that bad treatment which the pictures of Corregio met with ? or was Härleman “ himſelf charged with indiſcretion or malice, on his relating that, at Lincöping, he found a college, and ſeven profeffors, but not one phyſician or arti ficer ? Bourdon Srebaring to '90 backe Horis Garret. Argenville abregé de la V. d. P. T. II. p. 287. • Reiſe, p. 21. L 2 It 148 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . It was my deſign to explain myſelf more particularly, concerning the negligences of the Greeks, had I been allowed time. The Greeks, as their criticiſm on the part ridge of Protogenes, and his blotting it ; evidently ſhews, were not ignorant in learned negligence. But the Zeus of Phidias was the ſtandard of ſublimity, the fymbol of the omnipreſent Deity ; like Homer's Eris, he ſtood upon the earth , and reached heaven ; he was, in the ſtyle of ſacred poeſy, encompaſſes bim ? & c . ” And the world has been candid enough to excuſe, nay, even to juſtify on ſuch reaſons, the diſproportions in the Carton of Raphael, repreſenting the fiſhing of Peter '. The criticiſm on the Dio medes, though folid, is not againſt me : his action, abſtractedly conſidered, with his noble and expreſſive contour, are ſtandards of the art ; and that was all I advanced %. The " What Strabo, L, XIV. p. 652. al . 965. 1. 11 . f Richardſon Eſſay, &c. p. 38, 39. & Diomedes, for ought I can ſee , is neither a fitting I Anfwer to the foregoing Letter. 149 The reflections on the Painting and Sculp ture of the Greeks may be reduced to four heads, viz. I. The perfect Nature of the Greeks ; II. The Characteriſticks of their works ; III. The Imitation of theſe ; IV . Their manner of Thinking upon the Art ; and Allegory. Probability was all I pretended to, with regard to the firſt ; which cannot be fully demonſtrated , notwithſtanding all the afliſt ance of hiſtory. For, theſe advantages of the Greeks were, perhaps, leſs founded on their nature, and the influences of the cli mate, than on their education. The happy ſituation of their country was, however, the baſis of all ; and the want of reſemblance, which was obſerved between the Athenians and their neighbours beyond ز fitting nor a ſtanding figure, in both which caſes the critick muſt be allowed to be juft. He deſcends . Remark of the T. L. the I 3 1 150 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. the mountains, was owing to the difference of air and nouriſhment ". The manners and perſons of the new ſettled inhabitants, as well as the natives of every country, have never failed of being influenced by their different natures. The ancient Gauls, and their ſucceſſors the Ger man Franks, are but one nation : the blind fury, by which the former were hurried on in their firſt attacks, proved as unſuc ceſsful to them in the times of Cæſar', as it did to the latter in our days. They por ſeſſed certain other qualities, which are ſtill in vogue among the modern French ; and the Emperor Julian * tells us, that in his time there were more dancers than citizens at Paris. Whereas the Spaniards, managing their affairs cautiouſly, and with a certain frigi dity, kept the Romans longer than any Cicero de Fato , c. 4. Strabo, L. IV. p. 196. al. 299. 1. 22 .

• Miſopog. p. 342. 1. 13.

other Anfwer to the foregoing Letter. 151 other people from conquering the coun- , try : m And is not this character of the old Ibe rians re - aſſumed by the Weſt-Goths, the Mauritanians, and many other people, who over - ran their country ? It is eaſy to be imagined what advantages the Greeks, having been ſubject to the ſame influences of climate and air, muſt have reaped from the happy ſituation of their country. The moſt temperate ſeaſons reign ed through all the year, and the refreſhing ſea -gales fanned the voluptuous iſlands of the Ionick ſea, and thë ſhores of the conti nent. Induced by theſe advantages, the Peloponneſians built all their towns along the coaſt ; ſee Dicearchus, quoted by Ci cero " . Under a ſky ſo temperate, nay balanced between heat and cold, the inhabitants can 1 Strabo, L. III . p. 158. al . 238 . Du Bos Reflex. fur la Poefie et f.1, P, II . 144. n Herodot. L. III . c . 106, Cicero ad Attic. L. VI. ep. 2, 4 not 152 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. not fail of being influenced by both. Fruits grow ripe and mellow, even ſuch as are wild improve their natures ; animals thrive well, and breed more abundantly. ci Such a ſky, ſays Hippocrates ', produces not only the moſt beautiful of men, but harmony between their inclinations and ſhape.” Of which Georgia, that country of beauty, where a pure and ferene ſky pours fertility , is an inſtance P. Among the elements, beauty owes ſo much to water alone, that, if we believe the Indians, it cannot thrive, in a country that has it not in its purity ? And the Oracle itſelf attributes to the lymph of Arethuſa a power of forming beauty '. The Greek tongue affords us alſo ſome arguments in behalf of their frame. Na 0 IIepi Tonw . p. 288. edit. Foefii. Galenus ore τα της Ψυχής Ηθη τους του Σωματος κρασεσι επέθαι . fol. 171. B. I. 43. edit. Ald. T.I. P Chardin voyage en Perſe, T. II . p. 127. & feq. 9 Journal des Sçavans l'An . 1684. Aur. p. 153. Apud Eufeb . Præpar. Evang. L. V. c. 29. p. 226. edit. Colon. ture Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 153 ture moulds the organs of ſpeech according to the influences of the climate. There are nations that rather whiſtle than ſpeak, like the Troglodytes ' ; others that pronounce without opening their lips ' ; and the Pha ſians, a Greek people, had, as has been faid of the Engliſh ", a hoarſe voice : an un kind climate forms harſh ſounds, and con fequently the organs of ſpeech cannot be very delicate. The ſuperiority of the Greek tongue is inconteſtible : I do not ſpeak now of its rich neſs, but only of its harmony. For all the northern tongues, being over - loaded with confonants ", are too often apt to offend with an unpleaſing auſterity ; whereas the Greek s Plin. Hift. Nat. L. V. c. 8. + Lahontan Memoir. T. II . p. 217. Conf. Wöl dike de ling. Grönland, p. 144 , & feq. Act. Hafn . T. II . u Clarmont de Aere, Locis, & aquis Angliæ. Lond. 1672. 12. Wotton's Reflex . upon ancient and modern Learning, P: 4. Pope's Letter to Mr. Walth , W T. 1. 74 tongue 154 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. tongue is continually changing the confo nant for the vowel, and two vowels, meet ing with but one conſonant, generally grow into a diphthong ”. The ſweetneſs of the tongue admits of no word ending with theſe three harſh letters ©, 0, X, and for the fake of Euphony, readily changes letters for their kindred ones. Some ſeemingly harſh words cannot be objected here ; none of us being acquainted with the true Greek or Roman pronunciation . All theſe advant ages gave to the tongue a flowing ſoftneſs; brought variety into the ſounds of its words, and facilitated their inimitable compoſition. And from theſe alone, not to mention the meaſure which , even in common conver ſation, every ſyllable enjoyed, a thing to be deſpaired of in occidental tongues ; from theſe alone, I ſay, we may form the higheſt idea of the organs by which that tongue was pronounced, and may more than con

• Lakemacher Obſerv. Philolog. P. III. Obſerv.

IV . p. 250, &c . jecture Anfwer to the foregoing Letter. 155 jecture, that, by the language of the Gods, Homer meant the Greek, by that of Men, the Phrygian tongue. It was chiefly owing to that abundance of vowels, that the Greek tongue was prefer able to all others, for expreſſing by the found and diſpoſition of its words the forms and ſubſtances of things. The diſcharge, the rapidity, the diminution of ſtrength in pierc . ing, the flowneſs in gliding, and the ſtopping of an arrow , are better expreſſed by the found of theſe three verſes of Homer, Iliad A. 125. Λίγξε βιός, νευρή σε μέγ' ταχεν, άλλο σ' οίκος 135. Aici uiv äe' (wsñe @ in'nalo d'aid'améoso, 136. Και δια θωρηκG- πολυδαιδάλε ήρήραςο , than even by the words themſelves. You ſee it diſcharged, flying through the air, and piercing the belt of Menelaus. The deſcription of the Myrmidons in bat tle -array, Iliad I. v. 215. 'Ασπίς άρ ασπίσ ’ έρεισε , κόρυς κόρυν ανέρα σ ' ανήρ. y Th’impatient weapon whizzes on the wing ; Sounds the tough horn, and twangs the quiv'ring ſtring, &c POPE. 2 is 156 Anfwer to the foregoing Letter. is of the ſame kind, and has never been hit by any imitation : what beauties in one line ! Plato's periods were, from their harmony, compared to a noiſeleſs ſmooth -running ſtream . But we ſhould be miſtaken in con fining the tongue to the ſofter harmonies only : it became a roaring torrent, boiſterous as the winds by which Ulyſſes' fails were torn , ſplit only in three or four places by the words, but rent by the found into a thouſand tatters ?. This was the “ vivida expreſſo,” the living found ; ſupremely beau tiful, when properly and ſparingly uſed ! How quick, how refined muſt the organs have been , which were the depoſitaries of ſuch a tongue! The Roman itſelf could not attain its excellence : nay, a Greek fa ther, of the ſecond century of the chriſtian Z » Longin. Tege wit. Sect. 13. §. I. Odyfl.a. v.71 . Conf. Iliad . S. v. 363. & Euſtath. ad h. I. p. 424. L. 10. edit. Rom. æra, Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 157 æra ', complains of the horrid found of the Roman laws. Nature keeps proportion ; conſequently the frame of the Greeks was of a fine clay, of nerves and muſcles moſt ſenſibly elaſtic, and promoting the flexibility of the body : hence that eaſineſs, that pliant facility, ac companied with mirth and vigour, which animated all their actions. Imagine bodies moſt nicely balanced between leanneſs and corpulency : both extremes were ridiculed by the Greeks, and their poets ſneer at the Phileſiaſes ", Philetaſes “, and Agoracrituſes ". But though they were beautiful, and by their law early initiated into pleaſure, they were not effeminate Sybarites. As an in ſtance of which we ſhall only repeat what Pericles pleaded in favour of the Athenian manners, againſt thoſe of Sparta, which · Gregor. Thaumat. Orat. Paneg. ad Origen. 49. b Ariftoph . Ran. v. 1485. • Athen. Deipnof. L. XII. c. 13. Ælian . W. H. 1. ix. 14. Ariftoph. Equit. were 158 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. were as different from thoſe of the reſt of Greece, as their public oeconomy was ; “ The Spartans, ſays Pericles, employ their youth to get, by violent exerciſes, manly ſtrength : but we, though living indo lently, encounter every danger as well as they ; calmly, not anxiouſly, mindful of “ its approaches, we meet it with voluntary “ magnanimity, and without any compul “ fion of the law. Not diſconcerted by its “ impending threats, we meet its moſt fu « rious attacks, with no leſs boldneſs than they, whom perpetual practice has pre pared for its ſtrokes. We are fond of “ elegance, without loving finery ; of ge “ nius, without being emaſculate. In ſhort, “ to be fit for every great enterprize, is the “ characteriſtic of the Athenianse. ” I cannot, nor will I pretend to fix a rule without allowing exceptions. There was a Therſites in the army of the Greeks. But it is worth obſerving, that the beauty of a pation was always in proportion to their cul e Thucyd. L. II . c. 39. tiva Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. , 159 tivation of the arts. Thebes, wrapt up in a miſty ſky, produced a ſturdy uncouth race ", 5 according to Hippocrates's obſerva tion on fenny, watry ſoils" ; and its ſterility in producing men of genius, Pindar only excepted, is an old reproach . Sparta was as defective in this reſpect as Thebes, hav . ing only Alcman to boaſt of; but the rea fons were different : whereas Attica enjoyed a pure and ſerene ſky, which refined the ſenſes, and of courſe ſhaped their bodies in proportion to that refinement; and Athens was the ſeat of arts. The ſame remark may be made with regard to Sicyon, Co rinth, Rhodes, Epheſus, &c. all which having been ſchools of the arts, could not want convenient models. The paſſage of Ariſtophanes, inſiſted on in the letter ", I f Horat. L. II. Ep. I. v. 244. & Cicero de fato . C. 4. h Περι τοπων. p. 204. i Cicero Orat. c. 8. Conf. Dicæarch . Geogr. edit. H. Steph. c. 2. p. 16. k Nubes, v. 1365. take 160 Anſwer to theforegoing Letter, take for a joke, as it really is — and thereby hangs a tale : to have the parts, whereon Sedet æternumquefedebit Infelix Theſeus, Virg. moderately complete, were Attick beauties . Theſeus ', made priſoner by the Theſpro tians, was delivered from his captivity by Hercules, but not without ſome loſs of the parts in queſtion ; a loſs bequeathed to all his race . This was the true mark of the Thefean pedigree; as a natural mark ,repre ſenting a ſpear ", ſignified a Spartan extrac tion ; and we find theGreek artiſts imitating in thoſe places the ſparing hand of nature . But this liberality of nature was confined to Greece, in a narrower ſenſe. Its colonies underwent the ſame fate, which its eloquence met with when going abroad. " As ſoon , ſays Cicero ", as eloquence ſet out from 1 Schol. ad Ariftoph. Nub. v. 1010. m Plutarch. de Sera Numin. Vindicta, p. 563.9. ► Cicero de Orat. “ the Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 161 « ' the Athenian port, ſhe plumed herſelf “ with the manners of all the iſlands in “ her way, adopted the Aſiatick luxury, " and forſaking her ſound Attick expreſ “ fion, loſt her health . ” The Ionians, tranſplanted by Nileus from Greece into Aſia , after the return of the Heraclides, grew ſtill more voluptuous beneath that glowing ſky. Heaps of vowels brought wantonneſs into every word ; the neighbour ing iſlands partook of their climate and manners, which a ſingle Leſbian coin may convince us of °. No wonder then , if their bodies degenerated as much from thoſe of their anceſtors, as their manners. The remoter the colonies the greater the difference. Thoſe Greeks, who had chofen their abode in Africa, about Pithicuſſa, fell in with the natives in adoring apes ; nay, even gave the names of thoſe animals to their children ? . Golzius, Tab. XIV . T. II. i Diodorus Sic. L. XX. p. 763. al. 449. M The 162 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. The modern Greeks, though compoſed of various mingled metals, ſtill betray the chief maſs . Barbariſm has deſtroyed the very elements of ſcience, and ignorance over clouds the whole country , education , courage, manners are ſunk beneath an iron ſway , and even the ſhadow of liberty is loſt. Time , in its courſe , diffipates the remains of antiquis ty

pillars of Apollo's temple at Delos

, are now the ornaments of Engliſh gardens

the

nature of the country itſelf is changed . In yore the plants of Crete ' were fa , mous over all the world

but now the

ſtreams and rivers, where you would queſt of them , are mantled with wild luxu riant weeds, and trivial vegetables Unhappy country ! How could it avoid being changed into a wilderneſs, when ſuch days of go in ! 9 Stukely's Itinerar . III . p . 32 . Theophraft. Hift . Pi. L.IX . c . 16. p . 1131 . 1. 7. ed . Amft . 1644. fol. Galen de Antidot. I. fol. 63. B. I. 28. Idem de Theriac . ad Pifon . fol . 85 A. I. 20 . Tournefort Voyage, Lett . I. p . 10. edit . Amft. $ 2 popu Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 163 populous tracts of land as Samos, once mighty enough to balance the Athenian power at ſea, are reduced to hideous de farts ! Notwithſtanding all theſe devaſtations, the forlorn proſpect of the ſoil, the free pal ſage of the winds, ſtopped by the inextri cable windings of entangled ſhores, and the want of almoſt all other commodities ; yet have the modern Greeks preſerved many of the prerogatives of their anceſtors. The inhabitants of ſeveral iſlands, ( the Greek race being chiefly preſerved in the iſlands), near the Natolian ſhore, eſpecially the females, are, by the unanimous account of travellers, the moſt beautiful of the human race ". Attica ſtill preſerves its airof philanthropy ": all the ſhepherds and clowns welcomed the two travellers, Spon and Wheeler ; nay, pre Belon. Obferv. L. II. ch. 9. p. 151. 4. u Idem. L. III . ch. 34: p. 350. b. Corn. le Brun. V. fol. p. 169. w Dicæarch. Geogr. C. I. p. I. M 2 vented 164 Anfwer to the foregoing Letter. vented them with their falutations * : neither have they loſt the Attick ſalt, or the en terpriſing ſpirit of the former inhabitants ". Objections have been made againſt their carly exerciſes, as rather derogating from , than adding to the beauteous form of the Greek youths. Indeed, the continual efforts of the nerves and muſcles ſeem rather to give an angu lar gladiatorial turn, than the ſoft Contour of beauty, to youthful bodies. But this may partly be anſwered by the character of the nation itſelf : their fancy, their actions, were eaſy and natural; their affairs, as Pericles ſays, were managed with a certain careleff nefs, and fome of Plato's dialogues * may give us an idea of that mirth and chearful neſs which prevailed in all the Gymnaſtick exerciſes of their youth . Hence his deſire of having theſe places, in his common

• Voyage de Spon et Wheeler, T. II. p. 75, 76,

✓ Wheeler's Journey into Greece, p. 347. • Conf. Lyfis, p. 499. Edit. Fref. 1602. wealth , Anſwer to the foregoing Letter, 165 wealth , frequented by old folks, in order to remind them of the joys of their youth". Their games commonly began at fun riſe " ; and Socrates frequented them at that time. They choſe the morning-hours, in or der to avoid being incommoded by the heat : as ſoon as their garments were laid down, the body was anointed with the elegant At tick oil, partly to defend it from the bleak morning - air ; as it was uſual to practice, even during the ſevereſt cold " ; and part ly to prevent a too copious perſpiration, where it was intended only to carry off ſuperfluous humours ! To this oil they aſcribed alſo a ſtrengthening quality . The · De Republ. De Leg. L. VII . p. 892, 1. 30-6. Conf. Petiti Leg. att . p. 296. Maittaire Marm. Arund, p. 483. Gronov . ad Plaut. Bacchid . v. Ante Solem Exprien tem . • Galen . de Simpl . Medic. Facult. L. II. c. S. fol. 9. A. Opp. Tom . II . Frontin. Stråtag . L. I. Ć . • Lucian Gymn. p.907. Opp. T. II. Edit. Reitz . e Dion. Halic, A. R. c. I. .6. de vi dicendi in Demoft. c. 29. Edit. Oxon . exerciſes 7. M 3 166 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . exerciſes being over, they went to bathe, and there ſubmitted to a freſh unction ; and a perſon leaving the bath in this ſtate “ ap pears, ſays Homer, taller, ſtronger, and fimilar to the immortal Gods f. We may form a very diſtinct idea of the different kinds and degrees of wreſtling among the ancients, from a vafe once in the poſſeſſion of Charl. Patin , and, as he gueſſes, the urn of a gladiator Had it been a prevailing cuſtom among the Greeks to walk, either barefooted, like the heroes in their performances “, or with å ſingle role, as we commonly believe, their feet muſt have been bruiſed . But there are many inſtances of their extreme nicety in this reſpect ; for, they had names for above ten different ſorts of ſhoes f'oa. T. v . 230 & Numiſm . Imp. p. 160. ► Philoftrat. Epift. 22. p. 922. Conf. Macrob. Sat. L. V..c. 18. p . 357. Edit. Lond. 1694. 8. Hygin. Sat. 12 . i Conf. Arbuthnot's Tabl. of Anc. Coins, ch . 6. P: 116. The Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 167 The coverings of the thighs were thrown off at the publick exerciſes, even before the flouriſhing of the art " ; which was a great advantage to the artiſts. As for the nou riſhment of the wreſtlers in remoter times, I found it more proper to mention milk in general, than ſoft cheeſe. If I remember right, you think it ſtrange, and even undemonftrable, that the primi tive church ſhould have dipped their pro ſelytes, promiſcuouſly : conſult the note : As I am now entering upon the diſcuſ fion of my ſecond point, I could with that theſe probabilities of a more perfect nature, among the Greeks, might be allowed to have ſome concluſive weights and then I ſhould have but a few words to add.

• Thucyd. L. I. c.6. Euſtath ad Iliad . 4. p. 1324.

1. 16. i Cyrilli Hierof. Catech . Myftag. II. c. 2 , 3, 4 . p. 284. ed. Thom. Miles, Oxon. 1703. fol. 305. Vice Comitis Obſerv . de Antiq. Baptiſmi rit . L. IV . c. 10. p. 286–89. Binghami Orig. Ecclef. T. IV. L. XI. c. 11. Godeau Hiſt. de l'Egliſe, T. I. L. III . p. 623 M 4 Charno 168 Antwer to the foregoing Letter . Charmoleos, a Megarian youth , a ſingle kiſs of whom was valued at two talents " , was , no doubt, beautiful enough to ſerve for a model of Apollo

Him

, Alcibiades, Charmides, and Adimanthus ", the artiſts could ſee and ſtudy to their wiſh for ſeveral hours every day

and can you imagine thoſe trilling

opportunities propoſed to the Pariſian artiſts, equivalents for the lofs of advantages like theſe ? But granting that, pray , what is there to be ſeen more in a ſwimmer than in any other perſon ? The extremities of the body you may fee every where . As for that author ', who pretends to find in France beauties ſuperior to thoſe of Alcibiades, I cannot help doubting his ability to maintain what he aſſerts. What has been ſaid hitherto might alſo 1 m Lucian . Dial . Mort . X. $ . 3 .

• Idem

. Navig . E. 2. p . 248 . • De la Chambre Diſcours

où il eſt prouvé que

les François ſont les plus capables de tous les peuples de la perfection de l'eloquence , p . 15 . i an 2 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 169 anſwer the objection drawn from the judgment ofour academies,concerning thoſe parts of the body which ought to be drawn rather more angular than we find them in the antiques. The Greeks, and their artiſts, were happy in the enjoyment of figures endowed with youthful harmony; for, we have no reaſon to doubt their exactneſs in copying nature, if we only conſider the angular ſmartneſs with which they drew the wriſt -bones. Agafias's celebrated Gladiator, in the Borg beſe, has none of the modern angles, nor the bony prominences authoriſed by our ar tiſts : all his angular parts are thoſe we meet with in the other Greek ſtatues. And this ſtatue, which was perhaps one of thoſe that were erected , in the very places where the games were held, to the memory of the ſeveral victors, may be ſuppoſed an exact copy of nature . of nature. The artiſt was bound to repreſent any victor in the very attitude, and inſtantaneous motion, in which he overcame his 190 Anliver to the foregoing Letter. his antagoniſt, and the Ampbietyones were the judges of his performance '. Many authors havingwritten on this, and the following point of the treatiſe, I have contented myſelf with giving a few remarks of my own. Superficial arguments, in mat ters of this kind , can neither fuit the deeper views of our times, nor lead to general con chufions. Nevertheleſs we do not want au thors whoſe premature deciſions often get the better of their judgment, and that not in matters concerning the art alone. Pray, what deciſions of an author may be depended upon, who, when deſigning to write on the arts in general, fhews himſelf ſo ignorant of their very elements, as to afcribe to Thu cydides, whoſe concife and energetick ſtyle was not without difficulties, even for Tully 9, the character of fimplicity ? ' Another of P Lucian . pro Imagin. p. 490. Edit. Reitz. T. II . . Cic. Brut. c. 7. & 83 I Confiderations ſur les Revolutions des Arts. Paris , 1755. p. 33. that Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . 171 that tribe, ſeems as little acquainted with Diodorus Siculus, when he deſcribes him as hunting after elegance '. Nor want we blockheads enough who admire, in the an cient performances, ſuch trifles às are be low any reaſonable man's attention. rope, ſays a travelling ſcribler , which ties together Dirce and the ox , is to connoiſ “ ſeurs the moſt beautiful object of the “ whole groupe of the Toro Farneſe "." « The Ah mifer ægrota putruit cui mente ſalillum ! I am no ſtranger to thoſe merits of the mo dern artiſts which you oppoſe to the an cients : but at the ſame time I know, that the imitation of theſe alone has elevated the others to that pitch of merit; and it would be eaſy to prove that, whenever they for $ Pagi Diſcours ſur l'Hiſtoire Grecque, p. 45: Nouveau Voyage d'Hollande, de l'Allem . de Suiſſe & d'Italie , par M. de Blainville , ſook 172 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . fook the ancients, they fell into the faults of thoſe, whom alone I intended to blame. Nature undoubtedly miſled Bernini : a Carita of his, on the monument of Pope Urban the VIIIth , is ſaid to be corpulent, and another on that of Alexander the VIIth , even ugly ". Certain it is , that no uſe could be made of the Equeſtrian ſtatue of Lewis XIV . on which he had beſtowed fifteen years, and the King immenſe ſums. He was repreſented as aſcending, on horſeback, the mount of honour : but the action both of the rider and of the horſe was exag gerated , and too violent ; which was the cauſe of baptizing it a Curtius plunging into the gulph , and its having been placed only in the Thuilleries : from which we may infer, that the moſt anxious imitation of nature is as little fufficient for attaining beauty, as the ſtudy of anatomy alone for attaining the juſteſt proportions: theſe Laireſſe, by his own ac u Richardſon's Account, & c . 294, 295 . count, Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 173 count, took from the ſkeletons of Bidloo ; but, though a profeſſor in his art, com mitted many faults, which the good Ro man ſchool, eſpecially Raphael, cannot be charged with. However, it is not meant that there is no heavineſs in his Venus ; nor does it clear him from the faults imputed to him in the Maffacre of theInnocents, engrav ed by Marc. Antonio, as has been attempted in a very rare treatiſe on painting " ; for there the female figures labour under an exuber ance of breaſts; whereas the murderers look ghaſtly with leanneſs : a contraſt not to be admired : the ſun itſelf has ſpots. Let Raphael be imitated in his beſt man ner, and when in his prime'; thoſe works did is the prime want no apology : it was to no purpoſe to Surely ! produce Parrhafius and Zeuxis in order to excuſe Him, and the Dutch proportions! 'Tis true, the paſſage of Pliny , which you Chambray Idée de la Peint . .p. 46. au Mans, 1662. 4to.

• Plin. Hiſt. Nat. L. XXXV. C.c. 10.

quote 174 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . quote concerning Parrhaſius, meets com monly with the ſame interpretation , viz . that, shunning corpulency be fell into lean nefs '. But fuppofing Pliny to have under ſtood what he wrote , we muſt clear him of contradicting himſelf. A little before he allowed to Parrhaſius a ſuperiority in the contour, or in his own words, in the out lines

and in the paſſage before us

, Parrha bafus, compared with himſelf, ſeems, in POINT OF THE MIDDLE PARTS , to fall fort of himſelf. The queſtion is , what he means by middle parts ? Perhaps the ing on the outlines

but is not the deſigner

obliged to know every poffible attitude of the frame, every change of its contour ? If fo , it is ridiculous to give this explication to our paffage

for the middle parts of

a full face are the outlines of its profile , and ſo on . Conſequently, there is no ſuch thing parts border (Durand ) Extrait de l'Hiſtoire de la Peint. de Pline. p. 56. as 4 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 175 as middle parts to be met with by a de figner : the idea of a painter, well - ſkilled in the contour of the outlines, but ignorant of their contents, is an abſurd one, Partha fius perhaps either wanted ſkill in the Chiar oſcuro, or Keeping in the diſpoſition of his limbs, and this ſeems the only explication , which the words of Pliny can reaſonably admit of. Unleſs we chooſe to make him another La Fage, who, though a celebrated deſigner, never failed ſpoiling his contours with his colours. Or, perhaps, to indulge another conjecture, Parrhaſius ſmoothed the outlines of his contour, where it bordered on the grounds, in order to avoid being rough ; a fault committed, as it ſeems, by his contemporaries, and by the artiſts who flouriſhed in the beginning of the fixteenth century, who circumfcribed their figures, as it were with a knife ; but thoſe ſmooth con tours wanted the fupport of keeping, and of maſſes gradually riſing or ſinking, in order to become round, and to ſtrike the eye : by fail 176 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. failing in which, his figures got an air of flatneſs ; and thus Parrhaſius fell ſhort of himſelf, without being either too corpulent or too lean . We cannot conclude, from the Hò meric ſhape which Zeuxis gave his female figures, that he raiſed them , like Rubens, into ' fleſh -hills . There is ſome reaſon to believe, from the education of the Spartan ladies, that they had ſomething of a maſ culine vigour, though they were the chief beauties of Greece ; and ſuch a one is the Helena of Theocritus. All this makes me doubt of finding among the ancients any companion for Jacob Jor dans, though he is ſo zealouſly defended in your letter. Nor am I afraid of maintain ing what I have ſaid concerning him. Mr. d'Argenville is indeed a very induſtrious collector of criticiſms upon the artiſts; but as his deſign is not very extenſive, fo his de ciſions are often too general, to afford us characteriſtical ideas of his heroes. A good Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . 177 Inan ivita AA good eye muſt be allowed to be a bet ter judge, in matters of this kind, than all the ambiguous deciſions of authors : and to fix the character of Jordans, I might con tent myſelf with appealing to his Diogenes, and the Purification, in the royal cabinet at Dreſden . But, for the reader's fake, let me inquire into the meaning of what you call Truth in painting. For if truth , in the general ſenſe, can by no means be ex cluded from any branch of the arts, we have, in the deciſion of Mr. d'Argenville, a riddle to unfold , which, if it has anymean ing at all, muſt have the following : Rubens, enabled by the inexhauſtible fer tility of his genius, to pour forth fidions like Homer himſelf, diſplays his riches even to prodigality : like him he loved the mar vellous, as well in thought and grandeur of conception, as in compoſition, and chiar'-, oſcuro. His figures are compoſed in aman ner unknown before him, and his lights, jointly darting upon one great maſs, diffuſe N over 178 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. over all his works a bold harmony, and amazing ſpirit. Jordans, a genius of a lower claſs , cannot, in the ideal part of painting, by any means be compared with his great maſter. He had no wings to ſoar above nature ; for whieh reaſon he hụmbly followed , and painted her as he found her : and if this be truth, he, no doubt, had a larger ſhare of it than Rubens. If the modern artiſts, with regard to forms and beauty, are not to be directed by antiquity, there is no authority left to in fluence them. Some, in painting Venus, would give her a Frenchified air " ; another would preſent her with an Aquiline noſe, the Medicean Venus, as they would ſay, having ſuch a one : her hands would be provided with ſpindles inſtead of fingers ; Obſervat. ſur les Arts & ſur quelques morceaux de Peint. & de Sculpt. expoſés au Louvre, 1748. p. 65. a Nouvelle Diviſion de la Terre par les differentes Eſpeces d'Hommes, &c. dans le Journ. des sçav. 1704. Avr. 152. and Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 179 and ſhe would ogle us with Chineſe eyes, like the beauties of a new Italian ſchool. Every artiſt, in ſhort, would , by his per formance, betray his country : but, as De mocritus ſays ', if the artiſts ought to pray the gods to let them meet with none but auſpicious images, thoſe of the ancients will beſt ſuit their wiſhes. Let us, however, make ſome exception in favour of Fiamingo's children . For, luſtineſs and full health being the common burden of the praiſes of children, whoſe in fant forms are not ſtrictly ſuſceptible of that beauty, which belongs to the ſteadineſs of riper years ; the imitation of his children has reaſonably become a faſhion among our artiſts. But neither this, nor the indul gence of the academy at Vienna, can be, or indeed was meant to be deciſive, in fa vour of the modern children ; it only leads us to make a diſtinction . The ancients • Plutarch . Vit. Æmil. p. 147. ed . Bryani. T. II. N 2 went 180 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. went beyond nature, even in their children : the moderns only follow her ; and , pro vided their infant forms, exuberant as they are , do not influence their ideas of youth ful and riper bodies, they may be allowed to be in the right, though, at theſame time, the ancients were not in the wrong Our artiſts are, likewiſe, at full liberty to dreſs the hair of their figures as they pleaſe : but, being ſo fond of nature, they inuſt needs know , that it is nature which ſhades, with pendant locks, the forehead and temples of all thoſe, whoſe life is not ſpent between the comb and the looking -glaſs : and finding this manner carefully obſerved in moſt ftatues of the ancients, they may take it as a proof of their attachment to fimplicity and truth ; à proof of the more weight, as they did not want people, buſier in adorning their bodies than their minds, and as nice in adjuſting their hair, as the moſt elegant of our European courtiers. But it was commonly looked upon as a mark of an Anfwer to the foregoing Letter. 181 an ingenuous and noble extraction, to dreſs the hair in the manner of the ſtatues. The imitation of the ancient contour has indeed never been rejected, not even by thoſe whoſe chief want was that of correctneſs : but we differ about imitating that “ noble fimplicity and ſedate grandeur” in their works. An expreſſion which hath feldom met with general approbation, and never pronounced without hazard of being mil underſtood . In the Hercules of Bandinelli, the idea of it was deemed a fault “ : an uſurpation on Raphael's Maſſacre of the Innocents º. The idea of « nature at reſt, " I own, might, perhaps, produce figures like the young Spartans of Xenophon ; nor would the bulk of mankind be better pleaſed with performances in the taſte of my treatiſe, ( ſuppoſing even all its precepts authoriſed c Lucian. Navig. S. Votum . c. 2. p. 249. Borghini Ripoſo, L. II . p. 129 . • Chambray Idée de la Peint. p. 47. N 3 by 182 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. by the judges of the art) than with a ſpeech made before the Areopagites. But it is not on the bulk of mankind that we ought to confer the legiſlative power in the art. And though works of an extenſive com poſition ought certainly to have the ſupport of a vigour and ſpirit proportioned to their extent, yet there are limits which muſt not be overleapt ; uſe not ſo much ſpirit as to repreſent the everlaſting Father like the cruel God of war, or an ecſtaſied ſaint like a prieſteſs of Bacchus. Indeed, in the eyes of one unacquainted with this characteriſtick of the ſublime, a Madonna of Treviſani will ſeem preferable to that of Raphael in the royal cabinet at Dreſden . I know that even artiſts were of opinion, that its being placed ſo near one of the former, was not a little diſadvantageous to it, Hence it ſeemed not ſuperfluous to enquire into the true grandeur of that in eſtimable picture, as it is the only pro duction Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 183 duction of this Apollo of painters, that Germany is pofſeffed of. Whatroest leinas No compariſon , indeed , is to be made of its compoſition with that of the tranſ figuration

which

, however , I think fully compenſated by its being genuine

whereas

Julio Romano might perhaps claim one half of the other as his own . The difference of the hands is viſible

but in the Madonna

, the ſpirit of that epoch , in which Raphael performed his Athenian ſchool, ſhines with ſo full a luſtre, as to make even the autho rity of Vafari ſuperfluous. ' Tis no eaſy matter to convince a critick , conceited enough to blame the Jeſus of the Madonna, that he is miſtaken . Pythagoras, ſays an antient philoſopher ', and Anaxa goras look at the fun with different eyes

the former fees a God , the latter a ſtone. We want but experience to diſcover truth and beauty in the faces of Raphael, with 그 . 1 ] Maxim . Tyr . Diff. 25. p . 303. Edit.Markl. N 4 out 1 184 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. eye dwell out enquiring into their dignity : beauty pleaſes, but ſerious graces charm . Such are the beauties of the ancients, which gave that ſerious air to Antinous, which we generally aſcribe to his ſhading locks, Sudden raptures, or the enticement of a glance, are often momentary ; let an attentive thoſe confuſed beauties which the tranſient look conveys, and the paint will vaniſh . True charms owe their durability to reflection, and hidden upon graces al . lure our enquiries : reluctant and unſatisfied we leave a coy beauty, in continual ad miration of ſome new -fancied charm ; and ſuch are the beauties of Raphael and the ancients ; not agreeably trifling ones, but regular and full of real graces “. By that Cleopatra became the beauty of all enſuing ages : nobody was aſtoniſhed at her face, but her air engaged every eye, and ſubdued & Vide Spectator, N. 418. h Philoftrat. Icon. Anton. p. 91 . i Plutarch . Ant 3 the Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 185 the melted heart. A French Venus at her toilet is much like Seneca's wit ; which , if put to the teſt, diſappears *. The compariſon of Raphael and ſome of the moſt celebrated Dutch, and new Italian painters, concerns only the management, ( Trattamento ). The endeavours of the former of theſe, to hide the laborious induſtry that appears in all their works, gives an addi tional ſanction to my judgment; for, hiding is labour. The moſt difficult part in per formances of the arts, is to fpread an air of eaſineſs, the “ UT SIBI QUIVIS them '; of which , among the ancients, the pictures of Nicomachus were entirely defti tute ". All this, however, is not meant to dero gate from Vanderwerf's ſuperior merit : his works give a luſtre even to the cabinets of kings. He diffuſed over them an inconceiv , over k Obſervat, ſur les Arts, &c. p.65, I Quintil. L. IX. c. 14. on Plutarch. Timoleon. P. 142, able 186 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. able poliſh ; every trace of his pencil, one would think, is molten ; and, in the colli quation of his tints, there reigns but one predominant colour. He mightbe ſaid to have enamelled rather than paint ed . His works indeed pleaſe. But does the character of painting conſiſt in pleaſing a lone ? Denner's bald pates pleaſe likewiſe. But what, do you imagine, would the wiſe ancients think of them ? Plutarch , from the mouth of ſome Ariſtides or Zeuxis, would tell him , that beauty never dwells in wrinkles " . ' Tis ſaid, the Emperor Charles VI. when he firſt ſaw one of Denner's pictures, was loud in its praife, and in admiration of his induſtry. The painter was immediately de fired to make a fellow to the firſt, and was magnificently rewarded : but the Emperor, Plutarch. Adul. & Amici diſcrim . p . 53. D. com Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 187 comparing each of them with ſome pieces of Rembrant and Vandyke, declared , “ that having now ſatisfied his curioſity, he would on no account have any more from this ar tiſt. ” An Engliſh nobleman was of the fame opinion : for being ſhewn a picture of Denner's, “ You are in the wrong, ſaid he, if you believe that our nation eſteems per formances, which owe their merits to in duſtry rather than to genius.” I am far from applying theſe remarks to Vanderwerf; the difference between him and Denner is too great : I only joined them in order to prove, that a picture which only pleaſes can no more pretend to uni verſal approbation than a poem . No; their charms muſt be durable ; but here we meet with cauſes of diſguſt in the very parts, where the painter endeavoured to pleaſe us. Thoſe parts of nature that are beyond obſervation, were the chief objects of theſe painters : 2 188 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. painters : they were particularly cautious of changing the ſituation even of the minuteſt hair, in order to ſurprize the moſt ſharp fighted eye with all the microcoſm of na ture. They may be compared to thoſe dif ciples of Anaxagoras, who placed all hu man wiſdom in the palm of the hand-but mark , as foon as they attempt to ſtretch their art beyond theſe limits, to draw larger proportions, or the nudities, the painter ap pears Infelix operis fummâ, quia ponere totum nefcit. Hor. Delign is as certainly the painter's firſt, ſe cond, and third requiſite, as action is that of the orator . I readily allow the folidity of your re marks, concerning the “ reliefs ” of the an cients. In my treatiſe I myſelf charged them with a want of ſufficient ſkill in per ſpectives Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 189 ſpective ; and hence the faults in their re liefs. The fourth point chiefly concerns Alle gory. In painting we commonly call fiction al legory : for, though imitation ariſes from the very principles of painting as well as of poetry , it conſtitutes, by itſelf, neither of them °. A picture, without allegory, is but a vulgar image, and reſembles Davenant's Gondibert, an epopée without fiction . Colouring and deſign are to painting what metre and truth , or the fable, are to poetry ; a body without ſoul. Poetry, ſays Ariſtotle, was firſt inſpired with its ſoul, with fiction, by Homer ; and with that the painter muſt animate his work . Deſign and Colouring are the fruits of attention and practice : perſpective and compoſition, in the ſtricteft fenfe, are eſtabliſhed or fixed rules ; they are of courſe but mechanical ; • Ariſtot. Rhet. L. I. C. II . p. 61. Edit. Lond. 1619. 4to. Plato Phæd. p. 46. I. 44. and 190 Anfwer to the foregoing Letter. and, if I may be allowed the expreſſion , only mechanical ſouls are wanting to underſtand and to admire them . Pleaſures in general, fave only thoſe which rob the bulk of mankind of their invaluable treaſure, time, become durable, and are free from tediouſneſs and diſguſt, in proportion as they engage our intellectual faculties. Mere ſenſual ſentiments ſoon languiſh ; they do not influence our reaſon : ſuch is the de light we take in the common landſcape, flower, and fruit paintings : the artiſt, in : performing them , thinks but very little ; and the connoiſſeur, in conſidering them, thinks no more . A mere hiſtory-piece differs from a land ſcape only in the object : in the former you draw facts and perſons, in the latter, ſky, land, ſeas, & c . both, of courſe, being founded on the ſame principle, imitation, are eſſentially but of one kind. If it be not a contradiction to ſtretch the limits of painting, as far as thoſe of poetry , and Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 191 and conſequently, to allow the painter the ſame ability of elevating himſelf to the pitch of the poet as the muſician enjoys ; it is clear that hiſtory, though the ſublimeſt branch of painting, cannot raiſe itſelf to the heighths of tragick or epick poetry, by imi tation alone. Homer, as Cicero tells us ?, has tranſ formed man into God : which is to ſay ; he not only exceeded truth, but, to raiſe his fiction , preferred even the impoſſible, if probable, to the barely poſſible . In this Ariſtotle fixes the very eſſence of poetry, and tells us that the pictures of Zeuxis had that characteriſtick . The poſſibility and truth , which Longinus requires of the painter, as oppoſites to abſurdity in poetry, are not con tradictory to this rule. This heighth the hiſtory - painter cannet reach, only by a contour above common na ture, or a noble expreſſion of the paſſions : P Cicero Tuſc. L. I. c . 28 . 4 Ariftot. Poet. c . 28, for 192 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . for theſe are requiſite in a good portrait painter, who is able to execute them with out diminilhing the likeneſs of his model. They are but imitation , only prudently managed. The heads of Vandyke are charged with too exact an obſervation of na ture

an exactneſs that would be faulty in

a hiſtory -piece. Truth , lovely as it is in itſelf, charms more , penetrates deeper, when inveſted with fiction

fable

, in its ſtricteſt ſenſe, is the delight of childhood

allegory that of riper

years. And the old opinion , that poetry was of earlier date than proſe, as unanimouſly atteſted by the annals of different people , makes it evident, that even in the moſt bar barous times, truth was preferred, when ap pearing in this dreſs. Our underſtanding , moreover , labours un der the fault of beſtowing its attention chiefly on things, whoſe beauties are not to be per ceived at firſt ſight, and of inadvertently Dlighting others, becauſe clear as day

images

of 1 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 193 of this kind, like a ſhip on the wavęs, leave but momentary traces in our memory. Hence the ideas of our childhood are the moſt per manent, becauſe every common occurrence then ſeems extraordinary. Thus, if nature herſelf inſtructs us, that ſhe is not to be moved by common things, let art, as the Orator, ad Herennium , adviſes us, follow her dictates. Every idea increaſes in ſtrength, if ac companied by another or more ideas, as in compariſons; and the more ſtill as they differ in kind : for ideas, too analogous to each other, do not ſtrike : as for inſtance, a white ſkin compared to ſnow . Hence the power of diſcovering a ſimilarity, in the moſt different things, is what we commonly call wit ; Ariſtotle, “ unexpected ideas : and theſe he requires in an orator '. The more you are furprized by a picture, the more you are affected ; and both thoſe ef Ariftot. Rhet. III. c. 2. §. 4 , 0 fects 194 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. fects are to be obtained by allegory, like to fruit hid beneath leaves and branches, which when found ſurprizes the more agreeably, the leſs it was thought of. The ſmalleſt com pofition is ſuſceptible of the ſublimeſt powers of art : all depends upon the idea. Neceſſity firſt taught the artiſts to uſe allegory. No doubt, they began with the repreſentation of ſingle objects of one claſs: but as they improved, they attempted to ex preſs what was common to many particu lars"; i. e. general ideas. All the qualities of fingle objects afford fuch ideas : but to become general, and at the fame time fen fible , they cannot preſerve the particular ſhape of fuch or ſuch an object, but muſt be fubmitted to another Thape; eſſential to that object, but a general one. The Egyptianswere the firſt, who went in ſearch of images of that kind . : Such werë their hieroglyphicks. Allthedeities of antiquity, eſpecially thoſe of Greece, nay, their very names, were originally Egyp 2 tian. Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 195 tian . Their perſonal theology was quite allegorical ; and fo is ours. But the ſymbols of theſe inventors, partly preſerved by the Greeks, were often fo myſteriouſly arbitrary, as to make it altogether impoſſible to find out their meaning, even by the help of thoſe authors that are ſtill extant ; and ſuch a diſ covery was looked upon as a nefarious pro fanation '. Thus ſacredly myſterious was the pomegranate " in the hand of the Samian Juno : and to divulge the Eleuſinian rites, was thought worſe than the robbery of a temple " . The relation of the ſign to the thing fig nified, was in ſome meaſure founded on the known or pretended qualities of the latter. The Egyptian Horſemarten was of that kind ; an image of the ſun, becauſe his ſpecies was , Herodot. L. II. c. 50.

• Herodot. L. II. c. 3. C. 47. Conf. L. II . c. 6r •

Paufan . L. II. p. 71. 1. 45. p. 114. 1. 57. L. V. p. 317. 1. 6. Pauſan. L. II. c. 17. p. 149. 1. 24. w Arrian. Epict. L. III . c. 21. p. 439. Edit. Up ton. O 2 ſaid 196 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. ſaid to have no female, and to live fix months under and ſix above ground * . In like manner the cat, being ſuppoſed to bring forth a number of kittens equal to that of the days in a month , became the ſymbol of Iſis, or the moon ', The Greeks, on the contrary, endowed with more wit, and undoubtedly with more ſenſibility , made uſe of no ſigns but ſuch as had a true relation to the thing ſignified, or were moſt agreeable to the ſenſes : all their deities they inveſted with human forms . Wings, among the Egyptians, were the ſymbol of eager and effectual ſer vices ; a ſymbol conformable to their nature, and continued by the Greeks : and if the Attick Viktoria had none, it was meant to ſignify, that ſhe had choſen Athens for her

• Plutarch . de Ifid . & Ofir. p. 355. Clem. Alex. Strom . L. V. p. 657, 58. Edit. Potteri. Ælian. Hift.

Anim. L. 10. C. 15. y Plut. L. C. p. 376. Androvand. de Quadr. digit. Vivipar. L. III . p. 574.

• Strabo, L. XVI. p. 760. al. 1104.

abode. Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . 197 abode . A gooſe, among the Egyptians, was the ſymbol of a cautious leader ; in conſequence of which the prows of their ſhips were formed like geeſe ". This the Greeks preſerved alſo, and the ancient Rof trum reſembled the neck of a gooſe Of all the figures, whoſe relation to their intended meaning is ſomewhat obſcure, the Sphinx perhaps alone was continued by the Greeks. Placed in the front of a temple, it was, among the Greeks, almoſt as in ſtructive, as it was ſignificant among the Egyptians . The Greek Sphinx was wing ed , its head bare, without that ſtole which it wears on ſome Attick coins . · Paufan . L. III . p. 245. I. 21 . • Kircher Oedip . Æg. T. III. p. 64. Lucian . Nav. 3 Vol. c. 1. Bayf. de re Nav. p. 130. edit. Baf. 1537. 4. • Schaffer de re Nav. L. III. c. 3. p. 196. Par . ſerii Luc. T. II. tab. 93. Lactant. ady. 253. L. VII. Thebaid . • Beger. Thef. Palat. p. 234. Numiſm , Muſell. Reg. et Pop. T. 8 . Haym . Teforo Britt. T. I. p. 168. 03 It 198 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. It was in general a characteriſtic of the Greeks, to mark their productions with a certain chearfulneſs : the muſes love not hideous phantoms : and Homer himſelf, when by the mouth of ſome god he cites an Egyptiản allegory, always cautiouſly begins with “ WE ARE TOLD.” Nay, the elder Pampho ”, though he exceeds the Egyptian oddities, by his deſcription of Jupiter wrapt up in horſe -dung, approaches nevertheleſs the ſublime idea of the Engliſh poet : As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart ; Asfull, as perfect, in vile man that mourns, As the raptſeraph, that adores and burns. Pope. It will be no eaſy matter to find, among the old Greek coins, an image like that of a ſnake enciſcling an egg ", on a Syrian coin of the third century. None of their monu & Ap. Philoftr. Heroic. p. 693. h Vaillant Num. Colon. Rom . T. II , p. 136 . Conf. Bianchini Iſtor. Unic. p. 74. ments Anfwer to the foregoing Letter . 199 ments are marked with any thing ghaſtly : of theſe they were, if poſſible, ſtilt mote cautious than of ill -omen'd words. ' The image of death is not to be ſeen , perhaps, but on one gem ', and that in the ſhape com monly exhibited at their feaſts " ; viz, danc ing to a flute, with intent: to make tñem enjoy the preſent pleaſures of life, by re minding them of its ſhortneſs. On another gem ', with a Roman inſcription, there is a ſkeleton , with two butterflies as images of the ſoul, one of which is caught by a bird ; a pretended fymbol of the metempfychoſis : but the performance is of latter times. It has been likewiſe obſerved, that " among thoſe myriąds of altars, ſacred even’ to the moft whimſical deities, there never was one ſet apart to death ; ſave only on the folitary Y chos rin w 9i Muf. Flor. T. I. Tab. 91. p. 175. Petron . Sat. c . 34 . 1 Spon . Miſcell, Sect. I. Tab. 5d 2 . m Kircher Oedip. T. III . p . 555. Cüperde Ele phant. Exercita c . 3. p . 320.2.997 ) p 04 II ...coaſts,

200 Antwer to the foregoing Letter . coaſts, which were deemed the borders of the world ". The Romans, in their beſt times, thought like the Greeks; and always, in adopting the iconology of a foreign nation, traced the footſteps of theſe their maſters. An elephant, one of the latter myſterious fymbols of the Egyptians ° ( for there is on the moſt ancient monuments neither elephant' nor hart, of trich nor cock, to be found), was the image of different things ', and perhaps of eter nity, as on ſome Roman ' coins, becauſe of his longevity. But on a coin of the emperor Antoninus, this animal, with the inſcription, MUNIFICENTIA, cannot poſſibly hint at any other thing but the grand games, the mag nificence of which was augmented by thoſe animals.

• In Extremis Gadibus. v. Euftach . ad Il. A. p .

744. 1. 4. ad. Rom . Id . ad Dionyſ. Tlegang . ad v . 453. p. 84. Ed. Oxon. 1712. • Kircher Oed . Aeg. T. III. p . 555. P. Horapoll. Hierogl. L. II. c. 84. 4 Cuper. l. c. Spanh. Diff. T. I. p. 169. Agott. Dialog. II. p. 68. But Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 201 But it is no more my deſign to attempt an inquiry into the origin of every allegori cal ſymbol among the Greeks and Romans, than to write a ſyſtem of allegory. All I propoſe is, to defend what I have advanced concerning it, and at the ſame time to direct the artiſt to the images of thoſe ancients, in preference to the iconologies and ill- judged fymbols of ſome moderns. We may, from a little ſpecimen , form a judgment of the turn of mind of thoſe ans cients, and of the poſſibility of ſubjecting abſtracted ideas to the ſenſes. The fymbols of many a gem , coin , and monument, en joy their fixed and univerſally received in terpretation ; but ſome of the moſt memo rable, not yet brought to a proper ſtandard , deſerve a nearer determination. Perhaps the allegory of the ancients might be divided, like painting and poetry in ge neral, into two claffes, viz. the fublime, and the more vulgar. Symbols of the one might be thoſe by which ſome mythological Or 202 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. or philoſophical alluſion , or even ſome un known or myſterious rite, is expreſſed . Such as are more commonly underſtood, viz. perfonified virtues, vices , & c. might be referred to the other. The images of the former give to per formances ofthe art the true epick grandeur : one ſingle figure is ſufficient to give it : the more it contains, the ſublimer it is : the more it engages our attention , the deeper it penetrates, and we of courſe feel it the more . 1. The ancients, in order to repreſent a child dying in his bloom, painted him carried off by Aurora ' : a'ſtriking image! taken , per haps, from the cuſtom of burying youths at day -break. The ideas of the bulk of our artiſts, in this reſpect, are too trivial to be mentioned here. 1 The animation of the body, one of the moſt abſtracted ideas, was repreſented by

 ;ܨ

• Homer. OA. E. v. 121. Conf. Heraclid, Pontic.

de Allegoria Homeri. p. 492. Meurſ. de funerė. c. 7. the

• Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 203

the lovelieſt, moſt poetical images. An artiſt, who ſhould imagine he could expreſs this idea by the Moſaick ereation, would be mif taken ; for his image would be merely hif torical, and nothing but the creation of -Adam : a hiſtory altogether too ſacred for being either“ admitted as the allegory of a mere philoſophical idea, or into every place : neither does it feem poetical enough for the flights of the art. This idea appears on coins and gems , as deſcribed by the moſt ancient poets and philofophers: Prometheus forming a man of that clay, of which ſarge petrified heaps were found in Phocis in the time of Pauſanias “ ; and Minerva holding a butterfly, as an image of the ſoul, over his head. . The ſnake encircling a tree be hind Minerva, on the above coin of Anto ninus Pius, is a ſuppoſed ſymbol of his pru . dence and fagacity .: ! 1 + Venuti Num. max. moduli. T. 25. Rom. 1739. fol. Bellori Admir. fol. 30 . DI Pauſan . L. X. p. 806. 1. 16. T. It 7 1 204 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. It cannot be denied that the meaning of many an ancient allegory is merely conjectu ral, and therefore not to be applied on every occaſion . A child catching a butterfly on an altar was pretended to ſignify. Amicitia ad aras, or, “ which is not to exceed the bor ders of juſtice "." On another gem , Love, endeavouring to pull off the branch of an old tree, where a nightingale is perching, is faid to allegorize love of wiſdom ". Eros, Himeros, and Patbos, the ſymbols of Love, Appetite, and Deſire, are repreſented, they fay ', on a gem , encompaſſing the ſacred fire on an altar ; Love behind the fire, his head only over-reaching the flames ; Appetite and Deſire on both ſides of the altar ; Appetite with one hand only in the fire, with the other holding a gar land ; Defire with both his hands in the flames. A Victoria crowning an anchor, on a coin of king Seleucus, was formerly re Licet. Gem . Anul. c. 48 . Beger. Theo. Brand . T. 1. p. 182. Ibid. p. 281 . garded Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 205 garded as an image of peace and ſecurity pro cured by victory, till by the help of hiſtory we have been enabled to give it its true in terpretation. Seleucus is ſaid to have been born with a mark reſembling an anchor *, which not only he himſelf, but all his de ſcendants, the Seleucidæ , have preſerved on their coins . There is another Victoria with butterfly's wings , faſtened on a trophy. This, they ſay, is the ſymbol of a hero, who, like Epaminondas, died in the very act of con quering. At Athens ſuch a ſtatue ', and an altar to an unwinged Victoria, was the fymbol of their perpetual ſucceſs in battle : ours may admit of the ſame explication as Mars in chains at Sparta “. Nor was the, as I preſume, provided at random with wings uſually given to Pſyche, her own being 2 - Juſtin . L. XV. c. 4. p. 412. edit. Gronov. • Spanh. Diff. T. I. p. 407. Ap. D.C.de Moezinsky. e Pauf. L. V. p. 447. 1. 22. de Ibid. L. I. p. 52.... 4 . thoſe 206 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. thoſe of an eagle : they perhaps ſignify the foul of the deceaſed : however, all theſe conjectures might be tolerable, if a Victoria faſtened on trophies of conquered enemies could reaſonably correſpond with their being vanquiſhed. Indeed the fublimér allegory of the an cients has not been tranſmitted to us, with out the loſs of its moſt valuable treaſures : it is poor, when compared with the ſecond kind, which is often provided with ſeveral ſymbols for one idea. Two different ones, fignify ing the happineſs of the times, are expreffed on coins of the emperor Commodus : the one a lady ', ſitting with an apple or ball in her right, and a dial in her left hand, be neath a leafy tree : three children are before her, two in a vaſe or flower -pot, the uſual fymbol of fertility : the other repreſents four children , who, as is clear by the things they bear, are the ſeaſons. Both have the ſub ſcription FELICITAS TEMPORVM. e Pauſan . L. III. p. 245. 1. 20. : Morel Specim . Rei. N. XII. But Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 207 But theſe, and all the ſymbols that want inſcriptions, are of a lower rank ; and ſome of them might as well be taken for ſigns of different ideas. Hope' and Fertility :, for in ſtance, might be Ceres, Nobility S, Minerva. Patience , on a coin of Aurelian , wants her true characteriſtick , as does Erato'; and the Parcæ * are only by their garments diſtin guiſhed from the Graces. On the contrary, ideas which are often confounded in mo rality, as Juſtice and Equity, are extremely well diſtinguiſhed by the ancients. The former is repreſented, as drawn by Gellius ', with a ſtern look , a diadem, and dreſſed hair " ; the latter with a mild countenance, and waving ringlets ; ears of corn ariſing from her balance, as ſymbols of the advan 2 Spanhem. Diff. T. I. p. 154. Spanhem . Obf. ad Juliani Imp. Orat. I. p. 282. h Montfaucon Ant. expl . T. III. i Morell, Specim . Rei Num. T. VIII. p. 92. Artemidor. Oneirocr. L. II. C. 49. I Noct. Attic . L. XIV. c. 4. Agoſt. Dialog. II. p. 45. Rom. 1650. fol. tages m 208 Anſwer to tbeforegoing Letter. tages of equity ; and ſometimes the holds in her other hand " a cornu-copia. Peace, on a coin of the emperor Titus, is to be ranked among thofe of a more ener getick expreſſion. The goddeſs of Peace leans on a pillar with her left arm , in the hand of which the holds the branch of an olive -tree, whilſt the other waves the ca duceus overthe thigh of a victim on a little altar, which hints at the bloodleſs ſacrifices of thatgoddeſs: the victims were laughtered out of the temple, and nothing but the thighs were offered at the altar, which was not to be ſtained with blood . Peace uſually appears with the olive branch and the caduceus, as on another coin of this emperor º ; or on a ſtool placed on a heap of arms, as on a coin of Drufus ?. On ſome of Tiberius's and Veſpaſian's coins Peace appears in the act of burning arms. • Triſtan. Comm. hiſt. de l'Emp. T. I. p. 297 . • Numiſm . Mufell. Imp. R. tab . 38. P Ibid. Tab. II .

1. Ibid. Tab . XXIX. Eriffo Dichiaraz . di Medagl.

ant. P. II. p. 130. 2 On Anſwer to the forègoing Letter. 209 On a coin of the Emperor Philip there is a noble image ; a ſleeping Victory : which , with better reaſon, may be taken for the fymbol of confidence in conqueſt, than for that in the ſecurity of the world ; as the in ſcription pretends. Of an analogous idea was the picture, by which the Athenian General Timotheus was ridiculed, for the blind luck with which he obtained his victories : he was repreſented aſleep, with Fortune catch ing Towns in her Net ' . The Nile, with his ſixteen children, is of this fame claſs . The child that reaches the ears of corn, and the fruits, in his Cornu, is the ſymbol of the higheſt ferti lity ; but thoſe that over- reach them are ſigns of miſcarrying ſeaſons. Pliny explains the whole ' . Egypt is at the height of its fertility, when the Nile riſes fixteen feet : but if it either falls ſhort of, or exceeds that s Plutarch Syll. p. 50, 51 . . nikii s Conf. Philoftrat. Imag. p. 737 • Plin . Hift. N. L. XVIII. c.47. Agoſt. Dial. III. p. 104. P meaſure 210 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. meaſure, it equally blaſts the land with un fruitfulneſs. Roſſi, in his collection, neg lected the children . Satyrical pictures belong alſo to this claſs : the Aſs of Gabrias, for inſtance ", which imagines itſelf worſhipped by the people, as they bow to the ſtatue of Iſis on its back. It is impoſſible to give a live lier image of the pride of the Vulgar Great. The ſublimer allegory might be ſupplied by the lower claſs, had it not met with the fame fate. We are, for inſtance, not ac quainted with the figure of Eloquence, or Peitho ; or that of the Goddeſs of Comfort, Parergon, repreſented by Praxiteles, as Pau fanias tells us ". Oblivion had an altar a mong the Romans "", and perhaps a figure : as may alſo be ſuppoſed of Chaſtity, whoſe u Gabriæ Fab . p. 169. in Æſop, Fab. Venet. 1709. 8. w Pauſan. L. I. c. 43. p. 105. L. 7.

• Plutarch. Sympoſ. L. IX. qu. 6.

altar Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 211 7 у altar is to be found on coins ; and of 1 Fear, to which Theſeus offered facrifices 7. However, the remains of ancient allegory are not yet worn out : there are ſtill many ſecret ſtores : the poets, and other monu ments of antiquity, afford numbers of beau tiful images. Thoſe, who in our time, and that of our fathers, were buſy in improving allegory, and in facilitating the endeavours of the artiſts ; thoſe, I ſay, ſhould reaſon ably have had recourſe to ſo rich and pure a fountain . But there was an epoch to ap2 pear, in which a ſhocking croud of pedants ſhould, with downright madneſs, conſpire in an univerſal uproar againſt every the leaſt glimpſe of good taſte. Nature, in their eyes, waspuerile, and ought to be faſhioned : blockheads, both young and old , vied in painting devices and emblems, for the benefit of artiſts, philoſophers, and divines ; and woe to him who made a compliment, with , Vaillant Numiſm . Imp. T. II. p. 133. z Plutarch . Vit. Theſ. p. 26. P2 out 212 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. out dreſſing it up in an emblem ! Symbols void of ſenſe were illuſtrated with in ſcriptions, giving an account of what they meant, and meant not : theſe are the trea ſures which are dug for, even in our times, and which , being then in high faſhion, out Thone all antiquity had left. The ancients, for inſtance, reprefented Munificence by a woman holding a Cornu copia in one hand, and the table of the Ro man Congiarium in theother *: an image "which looked too parfimonious for modern liberality ; another therefore was contrived ", with two horns ; one of thein inverted, the better to pour out its contents ; án eagle, the meaning of which is too hard for me to gueſs at, was ſet upon her head ; others painted her with a pot in each hand : Eternity was, by the ancients, drawn either einn Agoſt. Dial . II. p. 66 , 67. Numifm . Muſell. Imp. Rom. Tab . 115. • Ripa Iconol . n. 87 . Ć Theſaur, de Arguta Dict. fitting .:) Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 213 fitting on a Globes or rather Sphere , with a Hafta in her hand ; or ſtanding, with the Sphere in one hand, and the Haſta in the others or with the Sphere in her hand, and no Hafta ; or elſe covered with a floating Veil !. Theſe are the images of Eternity on the coins of the Empreſs Fauſtina : but there was not gravity enough in them for the mo dern artiſts. Eternity, ſo frightful to many, required a frightful images ; a form female down to the breaſt, with Globes in each hand ; the reſt of the Body a circling ſtar marked Snake turning into itſelf. Providence very often has a Globe at her feet, and a Haſta in her left hand ". On a coin of the Emperor Pertinax, ſhe ſtretches out both her hands, towards a Globe falling, d Numiſm . Muſell. Imp. R. Tab. 107 . e Ibid . Tab. 106, f Ibid . Tab. 105. & Ripa Iconol. P. I. n. 53. h Agoft. Dial . II . p. 57. Numiſm . Mufell. I , c. Tab. 68 . i Agoſt. 1 , c. P 3 from 214 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. from the clouds. A female figure, with two heads, ſeemed more expreſſive to the moderns ". Conſtancy, on ſome of Claudius's coins , is either fitting or ſtanding, with a Helmet on her head, and a Hafta in her left hand ; or without Helmet and Haſta, but always with a finger pointing to her face, as if cloſely debating fome point. For diſtinction fake the moderns joined a couple of pil lars ". It is very probable, that Ripa was often at a loſs with his own figures. Chaſtity , in his Iconology, holds in one hand a Whip ", ( a ſtrange incitement to virtue) in the other a Sieve : The firſt inventor, perhaps, hinted at Tuccia the veſtal ; which Ripa not re membring, indulges the moſt abſurd whims, not worth repeating k Ripa Ic. P. I. n. 135. Agoſt. Dial. II. p. 47 . to Ripa Iconol . P. I. n. 31. Ibid. P. I, p. 25. Ву dy Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 215 By thus contraſting ancient and modern allegory , I mean not to diveſt our times of their right of ſettling new allegories : but from the different manners of thinking, I ſhall draw ſome rules, for thoſe that are to tread theſe paths. The character of noble fimplicity was the chief aim of the Greeks and Romans : of which Romeyn de Hooghe has given the very contraſt. His book , in general, may very fitly be compared to the elm in Virgil's hell : Hanc ſedem fomnia vulgo Vana tenereferunt, foliifquefub omnibus bærent. Æn. VI. The diſtinctneſs of the ancient allegory was owing to the individuation of its images. Their rule, ( if we except only a few of thoſe above-mentioned ), was to avoid every ambi guity ; a rule flightly obſerved by the mo derns: the Hart, for inſtance, fymbolizing • Vide Picinelli Mund. Symb. P4 baptiſm , 216 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. } baptiſm , revenge, remorſe, and flattery : the Cedar, a preacher, worldly vanities, a fcholar, and a woman dying in the pangs of child -birth . That fimplicity and diſtinctneſs were al ways accompanied by a certain decency. A hog ſignifying, among the Egyptians, a fcrutator of myſteries ", together with all the fwiné of Cæſar Ripa and ſome of the mo derns, would have been thought, by the Greeks, too indecent a ſymbol of any thing whatever : fave only where that animal made part of the arms of a place, as it ap pears to be on the Eleuſinian coins ? The laſt rule of the ancients was to be ware of ſigns too nçar a-kin to the thing fignified. Let the young allegoriſt obſerve theſe rules, and ſtudy them, jointly with mythology, and the remoteſt hiſtory. Indeed ſome modern allegories, ( if thoſe ought to be called modern that are entirely Shaw Voyag. T.I. Hayman Teſoro Brit, T. I, p. 219, in Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 217 in the taſte of antiquity ), may perhaps bę compared with the fublimer claſs of the an cient. Two brothers of the Barbarigo -family, immediately ſucceeding each other ', in the dignity of Doge of Venice, are allegorized by Caſtor and Pollux ' ; one of whom, as the fable tells us, gave the other part of that immortality which Jupiter had con ferred on him alone. Pollux, in the alle gory, preſents his brother, repreſented by a ſkull, with a circling ſnake, as the ſym bol of eternity ; on the reverſe of a ficti tious coin, beneath the deſcribed figures, there drops a broken branch from a tree, with the Virgilian inſcription, Primo avulla non deficit alter, Another idea on one of Lewis XIVth's T Egnatius de exempl . illuſtr. Vir. Venet. L. V. p. 133.

• Numiſm , Barbar. Gent. n. 37. Padova. 1732.

fol. coins, 218 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. coins, is as worthy of notice; being ſtruck on occaſion of the Duke of Lorrain's quit ing his dominions, after the ſurrender of Marſal, for having betrayed both the French and Auſtrian courts . The Duke is Proteus overcome by the arts of Menelaus, and bound, after having, in vain , tried all his different forms. At a diſtance the con quered citadel is to be ſeen, and the year of its ſurrender marked in the inſcription . There was no occaſion for the ſuperfluous epigraph : Protei Artes deluſa . Patience, or rather a longing earneſt de fire ", repreſented by a female figure, with folded hands, gazing on a watch, is a very good image of the lower claſs. It muſt in deed be owned, that the inventors of the moſt pictureſque allegories have contented themſelves with the remains of antiquity ; none having been authoriſed to eſtabliſh

• Medailles de Louis le Grand, a . 1663. Paris 1702,

fol. y Thefaur. de Argut. Dict. images Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 219 images of their own fancy, for the general imitation of the artiſts. Neither has any attempt of latter times deſerved the honour : for in the whole Iconology of Ripa, of two or three that are tolerable ones, Nantes in gurgite vaſto ; an Ethiopian waſhing himſelf, as an alluſion to labour loft ", is perhaps the beſt. There are indeed images, and uſeful hints, diſperſed in ſome books of greater note, ( as for in ftance, TheTemple of Stupidity in the Spec tator ",) which ought to be collected , and made more general. Thus, were the trea ſures of ſcience joined to thoſe of art, the time might come, when a painter would be able to repreſent an ode, as well as a tra gedy. I ſhall myſelf ſubmit to the publick fome images : for rules inſtruct, but examples ſtill more. Friendſhip, I find every where 1 Ripa Iconol. P. II . p. 166.

• Spectator, Edit. 1724. Vol. II. p. 201.

pitifully + 220. Anſwer to the foregoing Letter... pitifully repreſented , and its emblems are not worth mentioning : their flying fcribbled labels ſhew us the depth of their inventors. This nobleſt of human virtues I would paint in the figures of thoſe two immortal friends of heroic times, Theſeus and Piri thous: The head of the former is ſaid to be on gems ' : he likewiſe appears with the club ? won from Periphetes, a ſon of Vul can, on a gem of Philemon . Theſeus con fequently might be drawn with ſome re ſemblance. Friendſhip, at the brink of danger, might be taken from the idea of an old picture at Delphos, as deſcribed by Pau ſanias '. Theſeus was painted in the action of defending himſelf and his friend againſt the Theſprotians, with his own ſword in one hand, and another drawn from the ſide of his friend, in the other. The beginning of their friendſhip, as deſcribed by Plu y Canini Imag. des Heros. N. I. 2 Stoch Pier. Gray. Pl. LI.

• Pauſan. L. X. p. 870.871.

tarch , Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . 221 tarch , might alſo be an image of that idea. I am aſtoniſhed not to have met, among the emblems of the great men of the Bar barigo -family, with an image of a good man and eternal friend. Such was Nicolas Barbarigo, who contracted with Marco Tri víſano a friendſhip worthy of immortality ; Monumentum ære perennius : a little rare treatiſe alone has preſerved their memory : A little hint of Plutarch's might furniſh an image of Ambition : he mentions the facrifices of Honour, as being performed bareheaded ; whereas all other facrifices, ſaye only thoſe of Saturn ', were offered with co vered heads. This cuſtom he believes to Vit . Theſei. p. 29. < De Monſtroſa Amicitia reſpectu perfectionis inter Nic. Barbar. & Marc. Trivifan . Venet. apud Franc. Baba. 1628. 4. d Vita Marcelli. Ortelii Capita Deor. L. II. fig. 41 . Thomaſin . Donar. Vet. c.5. haye e 3 222 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. have taken its riſe from the uſual falutation in fociety ; though it may as well be vice verfa : perhaps it ſprung from the Pelaſgian rites ', which were performed bareheaded . Honour is likewiſe repreſented by a female figure, crowned with laurels, a Cornucopia and Hafta in her hands . Accompanied by Virtue, a male figure with a helmet, ſhe is to be found on a coin of Vitellius : and the heads of both on thoſe of Gordian and Galieni Prayers might be perſonified from an idea of Homer. Phoenix , the tutor of Achilles, endeavouring to reconcile him to the Greeks, makes uſe of an allegory. « Know Achil « les, fays he, that prayers are the daughters « of Zeus * ; they are bent with kneeling ; “ their faces ſorrowful and wrinkled, with h f Plutarch. Quæft. Rom. P. 266. F. & Vulp. Latium . T. I. L. I. c. 27 : p. 406. Agoſtin. Dialog. II. p. 81. Ibid. & Beger Obf. in Num . p. 56. k Iliad . i . v . 498. Conf. Heraclides Pontic. de Allegoria Homeri, p. 457, 58. 3 eyes Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 223 eyes lifted up to heaven . They follow « Ate ; who, with a bold and haughty “ mien marches on, and, light of foot as « The is, runs over all the world, to ſeize 6 and torment mankind ; for ever endea vouring to eſcape the Prayers, who inceſ “ fantly preſs upon her footſteps, in order it to heal thoſe whom ſhe hath hurt. Who « 'ever honours theſe daughters of Zeus, on “ their approach, may obtain much good “ from them ; but meeting with repulſe, they pray their fire to puniſh by Ate the 66. hard -hearted wretch . ” The following well-known old fable might alſo furniſh a new image. Salmacis, and the youth beloved by her, were changed to à fountain , unmanning to ſuch a degree, that Quiſquis in bos fontes vir venerit, exeat inde Semivir : & tactis ſubito mollefcat in undis, Ovid. Metam . L. IV. The 224 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . The fountain was near Halicarnaffus in Caz ria . Vitruvius' thought he had diſcovered the truth of that fiction : ſome inhabitants of Argos and Trezene, ſays he, going thither with a mind, to ſettle , diſpoſſeſſed the Ça rians and Leleges ; who, ſheltering them ſelves among the mountains, began to ha raſs the Greeks with their excurſions : but one of the inhabitants having diſcovered fome particular qualities in that fountain , erected a building near it, for the conve nience of thoſe who had a mind to make uſe of its water. Greeks and Barbarians mingled there ; and theſe at length , ac cuſtomed to the Greek civility, loſt their ſavageneſs, and were inſenſibly moulded into another nature. The fable itſelf is well known to the artiſts : but the narrative of Vitruvius might inſtruct them how to draw the allegory of a people taught huma nity and civiliſed, like the Ruſſians by Pe Architect. L. II. c . 8. ter Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 225 ter the Firſt. The fable of Orpheus might ſerve the ſame purpoſe. Expreſſion only muſt decide the choice. Suppoſing the above general obſervations upon allegory inſufficient to evince its neceſ ſity in painting, the examples will at leaſt demonſtrate, that painting reaches beyond the ſenſes. The two chief performances in allego rical painting, mentioned in my treatiſe, viz. the Luxemburg gallery, and the cupola of the Imperial Library at Vienna, may ſhew how poetical, how happy an uſe their au thors made of allegory. Rubens propoſing to paint Henry IV. as a humane victor, with lenity and good neſs prevailing, even in the puniſhment of unnatural rebels, and treacherous banditti, repreſents him as Jupiter ordering the gods to overthrow and punish the vices : Apollo and Minerva let fly their darts upon them, and the vices, hideous monſters, in a tu multuous uproar tumble over each other : Q Mars, 226 Anficer to the foregoing Letter. m Mars, entering in a fury, threatens total deſtruction ; but Venus, image of celeſtial love, gently lays hold of his arm : -- you fancy you hear her blandiſhing petition to the mailed god : rage not with cruel re venge againſt the vices--they are puniſh ed ." The whole performance of Daniel Gran is an allegory, relative to the Imperial Li brary, and all its figures are as the branches of one ſingle tree. ' Tis a painted Epopee, not beginning from the eggs of Leda ; but, as Homer chiefly rehearſes the anger of Achilles, this immortalizes only the Em peror's care of the ſciences. The prepará tions for the building of the library are re preſented in the following manner : Imperial majeſty appears as a lady ſitting, her head ſumptuouſly dreſſed, and on her breaſt a golden heart, as a ſymbol of the Emperor's generoſity. With her fceptre lhe m Vide Repreſentatio Bibliotheez Cefareæ Viennæ 1737. fol. obt. gives Anſwer to the foregoing Letler . 227 gives the ſummons to the builders ; at her feet fits a genius with an angle, palette, and chiffel ; another hovers over her with the figures of the Graces, as ſymbols of that good taſte which prevailed in the whole. Next to the chief figure fits general Libe rality, with a purſe in her hand ; below her a genius, with the table of the Roman Congiarius, and behind her the Auſtrian Liberality, her mantle embroidered with larks . Several Genii gather the treaſures that flow from the Cornucopia, in order to diſtribute them among the votaries of the arts and ſciences, chiefly thoſe, whoſe good offices to the library had entitled them to regard. The execution of the Imperial or ders perſonified, directs her face to the com manding figure, and three children preſent the model of the houſe. Next her an old man, the image of Experience, meaſures on a table the plan of the building, a ge nius ſtanding beneath him with a plummet, as ready to begin . Next the old man fits Q_2 Inven 228 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . Invention , with a ſtatue of Iſis in her right, and a book in her left hand, ſignifying, that Nature and Science are the fathers of Inven tion , the puzzling ſchemes of which are re preſented by a Sphinx lying before her. This performance was compared to the great platfond of Le Moine at Verſailles, with an eye to the neweſt productions of France and Germany alone : for the great gallery , of the ſame palace, painted by Charles le Brun, is, without doubt, the fublimeſt performance of poetick painting, fince the time of Rubens ; and being pof ſeſſed of this, as well as of the gallery of Luxemburg, France may boaſt of the two moſt learned allegorical performances. The gallery of Le Brun contains the hif tory of Louis XIV. from the Pyrenæan peace; to that of Nimeguen, in nine large, and eighteen ſmaller pieces: that in which the King determines war againſt Holland, contains, in itſelf alone, an ingenious and ſublime application of almoſt the whole mytho Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . 229 mythology °

its beauties are too exuberant

for this treatiſe

let the artiſt's ideas be

judged only by two of the ſmaller compo ſitions. He repreſents the famous paſſage over the Rhine

his hero fits in

a chariot, a thunderbolt in his hand , and Hercules , the image of heroiſm , drives him through the midſt of tempeſtuous waves . The figure repreſenting Spain is born down by the cur rent

the river god

, aghaſt, lets fall his oar

the victories, approaching on rapid

wings , preſent ſhields, marked with the names of the towns conquered after the paſſage. Europa aſtoniſhed beholds the ſcene. Another repreſents the concluſion of the peace. Holland, though with-held by the Imperial Eagle , ſnatching her robe, runs to meet peace, deſcending from heaven , fur rounded by the Genii of gaiety and pleaſure, ſcattering flowers all around her . Vanity, ! • This piece is engraved by Simmoneau Senior Conf. Lepicié Vies des p . P. de R , T. I. p . 64 . Q3 crowned 230 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. crowned with peacocks feathers, endeavours to with -hold Spain and Germany from fol lowing their aſſociate : but perceiving the cavern where arms are forged for France and Holland, and hearing fame threatening in the ſkies, they likewiſe follow her ex ample. Is not the former of theſe two per formances comparable, in ſublimity, to the Neptune of Homer, and the ſtrides of his immortal horſes ? But let examples be never ſo ſtriking, allegory will ſtill have adverſaries : they roſe in times of old , againſt that of Homer himſelf. There are people of too delicate a conſcience, to bear truth and fiction in one piece : they are fcandalized at a poor river- god in ſome facred ſtory. Pouſſin met with their reproaches, for perſonify ing the Nile in his Moſes ?. A ftill ſtronger P Another repreſentation of that ſtory, and one of Pouſſin's beſt originals , is in the gallery of Dreſden, in which the river god is extremely advantageous to the compoſition of the whole. party Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . 231 party has declared againſt the obſcurity of allegory ; for which they cenſured , and ſtill continue to cenſure, Le Brun. But who is there ſo little experienced as not to know , that perſpicuity and obſcurity depend often upon time and circumſtances ? When Phi dias firſt added a tortoiſe 9 to his Venus, ' tis likely that few were acquainted with his deſign in it, and bold was the artiſt who firft dared to fetter her : time, however, made the meaning as clear as the figures themſelves. Allegory, as Plato ſays ' of poetry in general, has ſomething enigmatick in itſelf, and is not calculated for the bulk of mankind. And ſhould the painter, from the fear of being obſcure, adapt his perform ance to the capacity of thoſe, who look upon a picture as upon a tumultuous mob, he might as well check every new and ex traordinary idea . The deſign of the famous Fred . Barocci, in his Martyrdom of St. Vi 9 Plin . • Plato Alcibiad. II. P. 457. 1. 30 . QA talis, 232 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. talis, by drawing a little girì alluring a magpye with a cherry, muſt have been very myſterious to many ; the cherry . alluding to the ſeaſon, in which that faint ſuffered. The painting of the greater machines, and of the larger parts of publick buildings, palaces, &c. ought to be allegorical. Gran deur is relative to grandeur ; and heroick actions are not to be ſung in elegiack ſtrains. But is every fi &tion allegorical in every place ? The Venetian Doge might as well pretend to enjoy his ſuperiority in Terra firma. I am miſtaken if the Farneſian gallery is to be ranked among the allegorical perform Nevertheleſs Annibal, perhaps not haying it in his power to chooſe his ſubject, may have been too roughly uſed in my trea tiſe : it is known that the Duke of Orleans ances. • Baldinucci, Notiz. de ' P, d . D. P. 118. Ar genville ſeems not to have underſtood the word, Ci liegia : he ſaw that it ſhould be a ſymbol of ſpring, and changed the cherry to a butterfly ; the chief object of the picture he omits, and talks only of the girl. deſired Anfwer to the foregoing Letter . 233 defired Coypel to paint in his gallery the hiſtory of Æneas : The Neptune of Rubens ", in the gallery at Dreſden, painted on purpoſe to adorn the magnificent entry of the Infant Ferdinand of Spain into Antwerp, as governor of the Netherlands ; was there, on a triumphal arch , allegorical ". The god of the ocean frowning his waves into peace, wäs a po etick image of the Prince's eſcaping the ſtorm , and arriving ſafe at Genoa. But now he is nothing more than the Neptune of Virgil. Vafari, when pretending to find allegory in the Athenian ſchool of Raphael , viz . a compariſon of philoſophy and aſtronomy with theology, ſeems to have required, and, by the common opinion of his time, to have been authoriſed to require ſomething · Lepiciè Vies des P. R. P. II . p. 17, 18. u Recueil d'Eſtamp. de la Gall . de Dreſd. fol. 48. w Pompa & Introitus Ferdinandi Hifp. Inf. p. 15 Antv. 1641. fol .

• Vaſari vite . P. III . Vol . I. p. 76.

grand 234 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . grand and above the vulgar, in the decora tions of a grand apartment : though indeed there be nothing but what is obvious at firſt look , and that is, a repreſentation of the Athenian academy But in ancient times, there was no ſtory in a temple, that was not, at the ſame time, allegorical ; allegory being cloſely interwo ven with mythology : the gods of Homer, fays an ancient, are the moſt lively images of the different powers of the univerſe ; fha dows of elevated ideas ; and the gallantries of Jupiter and Juno, in the platfond of a tem ple of that goddeſs at Samos, were looked on as ſuch ; air being repreſented by Jupiter, and earth by Juno . Here I think it incumbent upon me to clear up what I have ſaid concerning the contradictions in the character of the Athe níans, as repreſented by Parrhaſius. This ♡ Chambray Idée de la P. p. 107 , 108. Bellori Deſcriz. delle Imagini dip. da Raffaello, &c. z Heraclid. Pontic. de Allegoria Homeri, p. 443: you Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 235 you think an eaſy matter ; the painter hav ing done it either in the hiſtorical way, or in ſeveral pictures : which latter is abſurd. Has not there been even a ſtatue of that people, done by Leochares, as well as a temple * ? The compoſition of the picture in queſtion, has ſtill eluded all probable con je&tures ; and the help of allegory having been called in , has produced nothing but Teſoro's ghaſtly phantomis. This fatal picture of Parrhaſius, I am afraid , will of itſelf be a perpetual inſtance of the ſuperior ſkill of the ancients in allegory. What has been ſaid already of allegory, in general, contains likewiſe what remarks may be made upon its being applied to de . corations; nevertheleſs as you inſiſt upon that point particularly, I ſhall lightly men tion it too . There are two chief laws in decoration, Joſephi Antiqi L. XIV. c. 8. Edit. Haverc. D Dati vite de ' Pittori. p. 73. Theſaur. Idea Arg. Dict. C. III . p. 84, viz , c 4 236 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. viz . to adorn ſuitably to the nature of things and places, and with truth ; and not to fol low an arbitrary fancy. The firſt, as it concerns the artiſts in ge neral, and dictates to them the adjuſting of things in ſuch a manner, as to make them relative to each other, claims eſpecially a ſtrict propriety in decorations : Non ut placidis coeant immitiam Hor. The ſacred ſhall not be mixed with the profane, nor the terrible with the ſublime : this was the reaſon for rejecting the ſheeps heads , in the Doric Metopes, at the chapel of the palace of Luxemburg at Paris. The ſecond law excludes licentiouſneſs ; nay circumſcribes the architect and deco rator within much narrower limits than the painter ; who ſometimes muſt, in ſpite of reaſon , ſubject his own fancy, and Greece, to 1 & Blondel Maiſons de Plaiſance, T. II . p. 26. 4 faſhion , Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 237 fafhion, even in hiſtory -pieces : but pub lick buildings, and ſuch works as are made for futurity, claim decorations that will out laſt the whims of faſhion ; like thoſe that, by their dignity and ſuperior excellence, bore down the attacks of many a century: other wiſe they fade away, grow inſipid and out of faſhion, perhaps before the finiſhing of the very work to which they are added . The former law directs the artiſt to alle gory : the latter to the imitation of antiqui ty ; and this concerns chiefly the ſmaller decorations. Such I call thoſe that make not up of themſelves a whole, or thoſe that are addi tional to the larger ones. The ancients ne ver applied ſhells, when not required by the fable ; as in the caſe of Venus and the Tri tons ; or by the place, as in the temples of Neptune: and lamps decked with ſhells • are ſuppoſed to have made part of the imple ments of thoſe temples . For the ſame rea ܪ e Pafferii Lucernæ fi &t. Tab. 51 . fon 238 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. ſon they may give luftre, and be very fig nificant, in proper places ; as in the feftoons of the Stadthouſe at Amſterdam . Sheep and ox-heads ſtripped of their ſkin, ſo far from juſtifying a promiſcuous uſe of ſhells, as the author ſeemsinclined to think , are plain arguments to the contrary : for they not only were relative to the ancient ſacri fices, but were thought to be endowed with a power of averting lightning ; and Numa pretended to have been ſecretly inſtructed about them by Jupiter " . Nor can the Co rinthian capital ſerve for an inſtance of a ſeemingly abſurd ornainent, authoriſed and rendered faſhionable by time alone : for it ſeems of an origin more natural and reaſon V f Quellinus Maiſon de la Ville d'Amft. 1655. fol. & Arnob, adv. Gentes L. V. p. 157. Edit. Lugd . 1651. 4 . An ox-head on the reverfe of an Attick gold coin , ſtamped with the head of Hercules and his club, is ſuppoſed to allude to his labours, ( Haym. Teſoro Britt. I. 182. ) and to be, in general , a ſymbol of ſtrength , induſtry, or patience, ( Hypnerotomachia Polyphili. Venet. Ald . fol.) able Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 239 able than Vitruvius makes it ; which is, however, an enquiry more adapted to a treatiſe on architecture, Pocock believed that the Corinthian order had not much reputation in the time of Pericles, who built a temple to Minerva : but he ſhould have been reminded, that the Doric order belonged to the temples of that goddeſs, as Vitruvius informs us . Theſe decorations ought to be treated like architecture in general , which owes its gran deur to fimplicity, to a ſyſtem of few parts, which being not complex themſelves, branch out into grace and ſplendour. Remember here the channelled pillars of the temple of Jupiter, at Agrigentum , (Girgenti now) which were large enough to contain, in one ſingle gutter, a man at full length * . In the ſame manner theſe decorations muſt not only be few , but thoſe muſt likewiſe conſiſt of few i Vitruv. L. I. c. 2 . i Diodor. Sic. L. XIII . p. 375. al . 507. parts, 240 Anfwer to the foregoing Letter . parts, which are to appear with an air of grandeur and eaſe . The firſt law ( to return to allegory ) might be lengthened out into many a ſub altern rule : but the nature of things and circumſtances is, and ever muſt be, the ar tiſt's firſt aim ; as for examples, refutation promiſes rather more inſtruction than au thority. Arion riding on his dolphin , as unmean ingly repreſented upon a Sopra -porta, in a new treatiſe on architecture ', though a fig nificant image in the apartments of a French Dauphin, would be a very poor ore in any place where Philanthropy, or the protection of artiſts like him, could not immediately be hinted at. Qn the contrary, he would even to this day, though without his lyre, be an ornament to any publick building at Tarentum, becauſe the ancient Tarentines, ftamped on their coins the image of Taras, « Blondel Maiſons de Plaiſance. one Anfwerto theforegoing Letter. 241 one of the fons of Neptune, riding on a dolphin, ón a ſuppoſition of his being their firſt founder. The allegorical decorations of a build ing, raiſed -by the contributions of a whole nation , I mean the Duke of Marlborough's palace at Blenheim , are abſurd : enormous lions of maffy ſtone, above two portals, tearing to pieces a little cock " . The hint ſprung from a poor pun. Ņor can it be denied that antiquity fur nilhes ſome ideas ſeemingly analogous to this : as for inſtance, the lioneſs on the tomb of Leæna, the miſtreſs of Ariſtogiton, raiſed in honour of her conſtancy amidſt the torments applied by the tyrant, in order to extort from her a confeſſion of the conſpi rators againſt him . But from this, I am afraid , nothing can ariſe in behalf of the above pitiful decoration : that miſtreſs of the martyr of liberty having been a no torious woman , and whoſe name could /

• Vide Spectator, Nº. 51.

R not 142 Aufter tothe foregoing Letter. 1 not decently ſtand a publiek trial. Of the fame nature are the lizards and frogs on a temple ", alluding to the names of the two architects, Saurus and Batrachus " : thea bove-mentioned lioneſs having 'no tongue, made the allegory ſtill more expreſfive. The lionefs' on the tomb of the famous Lais holding with her fore -paws a rám , as a fymbol of her manners ?, was perhaps an imitation of the former. The lion was, in general; ſet upon the tombs of the brave. It is not indeed to be prétended that every ornament and image of the ancient vaſes, tbols, &c. fhould be allegorical; and to ex plain many of them, 'in that way, would be équally difficult and conjectural. I am not bold enough to maintain , chat an earthen tamp" , in the ſhape of an ox's -head , means a perpetual remembrance of uſeful labours,on Pauſan. L. I. c.43 . 1. 22. -C Plin. Hift. N. L. XXXVI. c. 5. Pauf. L. II . C. 2. P. Hg. 1. 11. . Idem. L. IX. c. 40. P. 795. I. 11.

• Aldrovando de Quadrup. bifukc. p. 141.

account Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 243. account of the perpetuity of the fire; nor to decypher here a myſterious facrifice to Pluto and Proſerpine . But the image of a Tro jan Prince, carried off by Jupiter, to be his favourite, was of great and honourable lige nification in the mantle of a Trojan. Birds pecking grapes ſeem as ſuitable to an urn, as the young Bacchus brought by Mercury to be nurſed by Leucothea, on a large mar ble vaſe of the Athenian Salpion '. The grapes may be a ſymbol of the pleaſures the deceaſed enjoy in Elyſium : the pleaſures of hereafter being commonly ſuppoſed to be ſuch, as the deceaſed chiefly delighted in when alive. A bird, I need not ſay, was the image of the ſoul. A Sphinx, on a cup ſacred to Bacchus, is ſuppoſed to be an alluſion to the adventures of Oedipus at Thebes, Bacchus's birth place " ; as a t • Bellori Lucern. Sepulcr. P. I. fig. 17. Spon. Miſc. Sect. II. Art. I. P. 25. • Vide Buonarotti Offerv. "ſopra alcuni Medagli. Proem . p . XXVI. Roma: 1693. 4. R2 Li 244 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. Lizard on a cup of Mentor, may hint at the poſſeſſor, whoſe name perhaps was ' Saurus. There is ſome reaſon to ſearch for alle gory , in moſt of the ancient performances, when we conſider, that they even built al legorically. Such an alluſive building was a gallery at Olympia ", ſacred to the ſeven liberal arts, and re-echoing ſeven times a poem read aloud there. A temple of Mer cury, ſupported, inſtead of pillars, by Herms, or, as we now ſpell, Terms, on a coin of Aurelian , is of the ſame kind : there is on its front a dog, a cock , and a tongue ; figures that want no explication . Yet the temple of Virtue and Honour, built by Marcellus, was ſtill more learnedly executed : having conſecrated his ' Sicilian fpoils to that purpoſe, he was diſappointed by the prieſts, whom he firſt conſulted on w Plutarch. de Garrulit. p. 502.

• Triſtan Comment. Hiſt. des Emper. T. I. p. 632 .

that Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. 245 that deſign ; who told him, that no ſingle temple could admit of two divinities. Mar cellus therefore ordered two temples to be built, adjoining to each other, in ſuch a manner that whoever would be admitted to that of Honour muſt paſs through that of Virtue " ; thus publickly indicating, that vir tue alone leads to true honour : this tem ple was near the Porta Capena ?. . And here I cannot help remembering thoſe hollow ftatues of ugly fatyrs ", which, when opened, were found replete with little figures of the graces, to teach , that no judgment is to be formed from outward appearances, and that a fair mind makes amends for a homely body. Perhaps, Sir, ſome of your objections may have been omitted : if ſo, it was againſt my will and at this inſtant, I remember one y Plutarch. Marcell . p. 277. z Vulpii Latium, T. II. L. II. c. 20. p. 175.

• Banier Mythol. T. II. L. I. ch. 11. p. 181 .

R 3 con 246 Anſwer to the foregoing Letter. concerning the Greek art of changing blue eyes to black ones. Dioſcorides is the only writer that mentions it. Attempts of this kind have been made in our days : a cer tain Sileſian counteſs was the favourite beauty of the age, and univerſally acknowledged to be perfect, had it not been for her blue eyes, which ſome of her admirers wiſhed were black . The lady, informed of the wiſhes of her adorers, by repeated endea vours overcame nature ; her eyes became black , and the blind. I am not ſatisfied with myſelf, nor per haps have given you ſatisfaction : but the art is inexhauſtible, and all cannot be writ ten. I only wanted to amuſe myſelf agree ably at my leiſure hours ; and the converſa tion of my friend Frederic OESER, a true imitator of Ariſtides, the painter of the ſoul, was not a little favourable to my purpoſe : the name of which worthy friend and are Diofcorid . de ReMed. L. V. c. 179. tift Anſwer to the foregoing Letter . 247 tiſt ſhall ſpread a luſtre over the end of my treatiſe. • Fred. Oeſer, one of the moſt extenſive geniuſes which the preſent age can boaſt of, is a German , and now lives at Dreſden ; where, to the honour of his country, and the emolument of the art, he gets his livelihood by teaching young blockheads, of the Saxon- race , the elements of drawing ; and by etching after the Flemish painters. N. of Trand , R4 I N. . :: . -

. دمار :

{ .. . . . . . . . ۲۰۰۰ ( ) ..

, , ، ، ، ، ، ، ، ، ' نه , و ، م ، .

.:) ۱۹ ( ( : } ما { در 1 INSTRUCTIONS FOR THE CONNOISSEUR.. ! COVO , " OBS 113 IO wa SC 14.2 -I [ ' 151 ) INSTRUCTIONS 1 FOR THE CONNOISSE U R. ( Nong fi quid turbida ROMA Elevet, accedas : examenve. improbum in illa Caftiges trutina : nec te quaſiueris extra. Nam Romc eft Quis non ? :: :: 1 YouOU call yourſelf a Connoisſeur, and the firſt thing you gaze at, in conſidering works of art, is the workmanſhip, the de licacy of the pencilling, or the poliſh given by the chiffel. It was the idea how, ever, its grandeur or meanneſs, its dig nity, fitneſs, or unfitneſs, that ought firſt to have been examined : for induſtry and talents are independent of each other. A piece of painting or ſculpture cannot, mere ly on account of its having been laboured, claim 4 4 232 Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. claim more merit than a book of the ſame fort. To work curiouſly , and with unne ceſſary refinements , is as little the mark of a great artiſt, as to write learnedly is that of a great author. An image anxiouſly finished, in everyminutetrife, may minute trife,may be fitly compared to a treatiſe crammed with quo tations of books, that perhaps werenever read . Remember this, and you will not be amazed at the laurel leaves of Bernini's Apollo and Daphne, nor at the net held by Adams's ſtatue of water at Potzdam : you will onlybe convinced that workmanſhip is not the ſtandard which diſtinguiſhes the an tique from the modern . Be attentive to diſcover whether an artiſt had ideas of his own, or only copied thoſe of others'; whether he knew the chief aim of all art, Beauty, or blundered through the dirt of vulgar forms; whether he performed like a man, or played only like a child. Books kA

• Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur." 253

Books may be written, and works of art executed, at a very ſmall expence of ideas. A painter' may mechanically paint a Ma donna, and pleaſe ; and a profeffor, in the fame manner, may write Metaphyſics to the admiration of a thouſand ſtudents: But would you know whether an artiſt deſerves his let him invent, let him do the ſame thing repeatedly : for as one feature may modify a mien , ſo, by changing the atti tude of one limb, the artiſt may give a new hint towards a characteriſtic diſtinction of two figures, in other reſpects exactly the ſame, and prove himſelf a man. Plato, in Ra phael's Athenian ſchool, but ſightly moves his finger : yet he means enough, and infi nitely more than all Zucchari's meteors. For as it requires more ability to fay much in a few words, than to do the contrary ; and as good fenſe delights rather in things than Thews, it follows, that one ſingle figure may be the theatre of all an artiſt's ſkill : though, by all that is ſtale and trivial ! the bulk of name, painters 254 Inſtructions for the Connoi ſeur. painters would think it as tyrannical to be ſometimes confined to two or three figures, in great only, as the ephemeral writers of this age would grin at the propoſal of be-. ginning the world with their own private ftock , all public hobby-horſes laid aſide : for fine cloaths make the beau . ' Tis hence that most young artiſts, Enfranchis'dfrom their tutor's care , choofe rather to make their entrance with Some perplexed compoſition, than with one figure ftrongly fancied and maſterly execut ed . But let him , who, content to pleaſe the few , wants not to earn either bread or applauſe from a gaping mob, let him re member that the management of a “ little" . more or leſs really diſtinguiſhes artiſt from artiſt ; that the truly ſenſible produces a multiplicity, as well as quickneſs and delicacy of feelings, whilſt the daſhing quack tickles only feeble ſeniſes and callous organs ; that he may conſequently be great in ſingle figures, Infructions for the Connoiffeuri 255 figures, in the imalleſt compoſitions, and new and various in repeating things the moſt trite. Here I ſpeak out of the mouth of the ancients : this their works teach : and both our writers and painters would come Nearer them , did not the one buſy them fèlves with their words only, the other with their proportions. In the face of Apollo pride exerts itſelf chiefly in the chin and nether lip ; anger. in the noſtrils ; and contempt in the open ing mouth ; the graces inhabit the reſt of his divine head , and unruffled beauty, like the fun, ſtreams athwart the paſſions. In Laocoon you ſee bodily pains, and indigna . tion at undeſerved ſufferings, twiſt the noſe, and paternal fympathy dim the eye-balls. Strokes like theſe are, as in Homer, a whole idea in one word ; he only finds them who is able to underſtand them . Take it for certain , that the ancients aimed at expreſ fing much in little, Their 256 Inſtructions for the Connoiſeur. Their ore was rich, and ſeven times purg'd oflead : whereas moſt moderns, like tradefmen in diſtreſs , 'hang out all their wares at once. Homer, by raiſing all the gods from their ſeats, on Apollo's appearing amongſt them , gives a ſublimer idea than all the learning of Callimachus could furniſh . If ever a pre judice may be of uſe, 'tis here ; hope largely. from theancient works in approaching them , nör fear diſappointments ; but examine, pe ļuſe, with cool ſedateneſs and filenced pal fions, leſt your diſturbed brain find Xeno phon flat and Niobe infipid . To original ideas, we oppoſe copied, not imitated ones. Copying we call the ſlavish crawling of the hand and eyes, after a cer tain model : whereas reaſonable imitation juſt takes the hint, in order to work by it ſelf. Domenichino, the painter of Tender peſs, imitated the heads of the pretended a Hymn. in Apoll . Alex Inſtructions for the Connnoiſſeur. 257 Alexander at Florence, and of the Niobe at Rome ; but altered them like a maſter. On gems and coins you may find many a figure of Pouſſin's : his Salomon is the Ma cedonian Jupiter : but whatever his imita tion produced, differs from the firſt idea, as the bloſſoms of a tranſplanted tree differ from thoſe that ſprung in its native ſoil. Another method of copying is, ' to com pile a Madonna from Maratta '; a S. Joſeph from Barocci ; other figures from other mal ters, and lump them together in order to make a whole. Many ſuch altar -pieces you may find, even at Rome; and ſuch a painter was the late celebrated Maſucci of that city.Copying I call, moreover, the following a certain form , without the leaſt conſciouſneſs of one's being a blockhead. Such was he who, by the command of a certain Prince, painted the nuptials of b Alexander, in his S. John , in St. Andrea ' della Valte at Rome ; Niobe, in a picture belonging to the Teſoro di S. Gennaro, at Naples . S Pſyche, 258 Inflructions for the Connoiſſeur. Pſyche, or, if you will, the Queen of Sheba : 'twas a pity there was no other Pſyche to be found , but that dangerous one of Raphael. Moſt of the late great ſtatues of the ſaints, in St. Peter's at Rome, are of the ſame ſtuff - the block at 500 Roman crowns from the quarry The ſecond characteriſtic of works of art is Beauty. The higheſt object of medita tion for man is man, and for the artiſt there is none above his own frame. ' Tis by moving your ſenſes that he reaches your ſoul : and hence the analyſis of the bodily ſyſtem has no leſs difficulties for him, than that of the human mind for the philoſo pher. I do not mean the anatomy of the muſcles, veſſels, bones, and their different forms and ſituations ; nor the relative mea fure of the whole to its parts, and vice verfa : for the knife, exerciſe, and patience, you all theſe. I mean the ana lyſis of an attribute, eſſential to man, but fluctuating with his frame, allowed by all , mil may teach زی Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. 259 miſconſtrued by many, known by few : the analyſis of beauty, which no definition can explain, to him whom heaten hath dës nied a foul for it : Beauty conſiſts in the harmony of the various parts of an indi vidual. This is the philoſopher's' ſtone; which all artiſts muſt ſearch for, though a a few only find it : ' tis nonſenſe to him who could not have formed the idea out of himſelf. The line which beauty deſcribes is elliptical,both uniform and various : 'tis not to be deſcribed by a circle, and from every point changes its direction. All this is eaſily ſaid ; but to apply it - there is the rub. ' Tis not in the power of Algebra to determine which line, more or leſs elliptic, forms the divers parts of the ſyſtem into beauty -- buc the ancients knew it ; I atteſt their works, from the gods down to their vaſes. The hu man forı allows of no circle, not has any antique vaſe its profile ſemicircular. After this, ſhould any one deſire me to affift him more ſenſibly in his inquiries S 2 concerns 260 Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. concerning beauty, by ſetting down ſome rules (a hard taſk ), I would take them from the antique models, and in want of theſe, from the moſt beautiful people I could meet, with at the place where I lived . But to in ſtruct, I would do it in the negative way ;. of which I ſhall give ſome inſtances, con fining myſelf however to the face. The form of real beauty has no abrupt : or broken parts. The ancients made this principle the baſis of their youthful pro file ; which is neither linear nor whimſical, though ſeldom to be met with in nature : the growth , at leaſt, of climates more in dulgent than ours. It conſiſts in the ſoft coaleſcence of the brow with the nofe, This uniting line fo indiſpenſibly accompa nies beauty, that a perſon wanting it may appear handſome full-faced ; but mean, nay even ugly, when taken in profile. Bernini, that deſtroyer of art, deſpiſed this line, when legiſlator of taſte, as not finding it I in Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. 261 in common nature, his only model ; and therein was followed by all his fchool. From this fame principle it neceſſarily fol lows, that neither chin nor cheeks, deep marked with dimples, can be conſiſtent with true beauty. Hence the face of the Medi cean Venus is to be degraded from the firſt rank . Her face, I dare ſay, was taken from fome celebrated fair one, contempo rary with the artiſt. Two other Venuſes, in the garden behind the Farneſe, are ma nifeſtly portraits. The form of real beauty has neither the projected parts obtuſe, nor the vaulted ones ſharp . The eye-bone is magnificently raiſ ed ; the chin thoroughly vaulted. Thus the beſt ancients drew : though, when taſte declined amongſt them , and the arts were trampled on in modern times, theſe parts changed too : then the eye-bone became roundiſh and obtufely dull, and the chin mincingly pretty. Hence 'we may ſafely affirm , that what they call Antinous, in the S 3 Belve 262 Intructions for the Connoiſſeur. Belvedere, whoſe eye- bone is rather obtuſe, cannot be a work of the higheſt antiquity, any more than the Venus. As theſe remarks are general, they like wiſe concern the features of the face, the form only. There is another charm, that gives expreſſion and life to forms, which we callGrace ; and we ſhall give ſome looſe reflexions on it ſeparately, leaving it to others to give us ſyſtems. The figure of a man is as ſuſceptible of beauty as that of a youth : but as a va ſious one, not the various alone, is the Gordian knot, it follows, that a youthful figure, drawn at large, and in the higheſt pollible degree of beauty, is , of all pro blems that can be propoſed to the deſigner, the moſt difficult. Every one may convince himſelf of this : take the moſt beautiful face in modern painting, and it will go hard , but you ſhall know a ftill more þcautiful one in nature. I ſpeak thus, af ter Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. 263 ter having conſidered the treaſures of Rome and Florence. If ever an artiſt was endowed with beau ty, and deep innate feelings for it ; if ever one was verſed in the taſte and ſpirit of the ancients, 'twas certainly Raphael : yet are his beauties inferior to the moſt beautiful nature. I know perſons more beautiful than his unequalled Madonna, in the Palazzo Petti at Florence, or the Alcibiades in his academy. The Madonna in the Chriſtmas night of Corregio, ( a piece juſtly celebrated for its chiar'-oſcuro) is no ſublime idea ; ſtill leſs fo is that of Maratta at Dreſden . Titian's celebrated Venus in the Tribuna O So are the goddeſſes of the Theopægnia at Blen heim , in Oxfordſhire ; and hence it is clear, that another Venus, analogous to that in the Tribuna, among the pictures of a gentleman in London , can not be the production of that genius- in - fleſh only. This daughter of the Idalian graces ſeems to thrill with inward pleaſure, and to recollect a night of bliſs There is language in her eye, her cheek, her lip : Nay, her foot ſpeaks SHAKESPEAR. $ 4 at 264 Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. at Florence is common nature. The little heads of Albano have an air of beauty ; but it is a different thing to expreſs beauty in little, and in great. To have the theory of navigation, and to guide a ſhip through the ocean, are two things. Poufin, who had ſtudied antiquity more than his predeceffors, knew perfectly well what his ſhoulders could bear, and never ventured into the great. The Greeks alone ſeem to have thrown forth beauty , as a potter makes his pot. The heads on all the coins of their Free ſtates have forms above nature, which they owe to the line that forms their profile. Would it not be eaſy to hit that line ? Yet have all the numiſmatic compilers deviated from it. Might not Raphael, who com plained of the ſcarcity of beauty, might not he have recurred to the coins of Syracuſe, as the beſt ſtatues, Laocoon alone excepted , were not yet diſcovered ? Far Inſtructions for the Connoiſeur. 265 Farther than thoſe coins no mortal idea can go. I wiſh my reader an opportunity of ſeeing the beautiful head of a genius in the Villa Borgheſe, and thoſe images of un paralleled beauty, Niobe and her daughters. On the weſtern ſide of the Alps he muſt be contented with gems and paſtes. Two of the moſt beautiful youthful heads are a Mi nerva of Aſpaſius, now at Vienna, and a young Hercules in the Muſeum of the late Baron Stoſch , at Florence. But let no man, who has not formed his taſte upon antiquity, take it into his head to act the connoiffeur of beauty : his ideas muſt be a parcel of whims. Of modern beauties I know none that could vie with the Greek female dancer of Mr. Mengs, big as life, painted in Crayons on wood , for the Marquis Croimare at Paris, or with his Apollo amidſt the muſes, in the Villa Al bano, to whom that of Guido in the Aurora, compared, is byt a mortal. All 1 266 Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. mean . All the modern copies of ancient gems give us another proof of the deciſive autho rity of beauty in criticiſms on works of art. Natter has dared to copy that head of Mi nerva mentioned above, in the ſame ſize and ſmaller, but fell ſhort. The noſe is a hair too big , the chin too flat, and the mouth And this is the caſe of modern imitators in general. What can we hope then of ſelf -fancied beauties ? Conclude not, however, from this, againſt the poſſibility of a perfect imitation of antique heads : tis enough to fay, that it has not yet ex iſted : ' twas probably the fault of the imi tators themſelves. Natter's treatiſe on an cient gems is rather ſhallow ; and what he wrought and wrote, even on that ſingle branch of engraving, for which he was chiefly celebrated , has neither the ſtrength nor the caſe of genius, To this conſciouſneſs of inferiority we owe the ſcarcity of modern ſuppoſititious gems and Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. 267 and coins. Any man of taſte may, upon compariſon, diſtinguiſh even the beſt mo dern coin from the antique original.--I ſpeak of the beſt antiques : for as to the lower Imperial coins, where the cheat was eafier, the artiſts have been liberal enough . Pa doano's ſtamps, for copying antique coins, are in the Barberini Collection at Rome, and thoſe of one Michel, a Frenchman, and falſe coiner in taſte, at Florence, in that of the late Baron Stoſch . The third characteriſtic of works of art is Execution ; pr, the ſketch being made, the method of finiſhing. And even here we commend good ſenſe above induſtry. As în judging of ſtyles, we diſtinguiſh the good writer by the clearneſs, fluency, and nervouſneſs of his diction ; ſo in works of art, we diſcover the maſter by the manly ſtrength, freedom , and iteadineſs of his hand. The auguſt contour, and eaſineſs of mien, in the figures of Chriſt, St. Peter, and the other apoſtles, on the right fide of the 268 Inſtructions for the Connoiſeur. the Transfiguration, ſpeak the claſſic hand of Raphael, as ſtrongly as the ſmooth , anxi ous nicety of ſome of Julio Romano's figures, on the left, the more wavering one of the diſciple. Never admire either the marble's radiant poliſh, or the picture’s glofly ſurface. For that the journeyman ſweated ; for this the painter vegetated only. Bernini's Apollo is as poliſhed as HE in the Belvedere ; and there is much more labour hid in one of Treviſani's Madonnas, than in that of Corre gio. Whenever truſty arms and laborious induſtry prevail, we defy all the ancients. We are not their inferiors even in managing porphyry, though a mob of fcriblers, with Clarencas in their rear - guard, deny it. Nor ( whatever Maffei thinks ",) did the ancients know a peculiar method of giv ing a nicer polish to the figures of their con cave gems ( Intagli.) Our artiſts poliſh as a Veron. illuftr . P. III. 6. 7. p. 269. nicely: Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. 269 nicely : but ſtatues and gems may be de teſtable, for all their poliſh , as a face may be ugly , with the ſofteſt ſkin . This however is not meant to blame a ftatue for its poliſh , as it is conducive to beauty : though Laocoon informs us, that the ancients knew the ſecret of finiſhing ftatues, merely with the chiffel. Nor does the cleanneſs of the pencil, on a picture, want its merit : yet it ought to be diſtin guiſhed from enamelled tints. A barked ſtatue, and a briſtly picture are alike abſurd . Sketch with fire, and execute with phlegm. x We blame workmanſhip only as it claims the firſt rank ; as in the marbles à la Bere nini, and the linnen of Scybold and Den ner . Friend, theſe inſtructions may be of uſe. For as the bulk of mankind amuſe them ſelves with the ſhells of things only, your eye may be captivated by poliſh and glare, as they are the moſt obvious ; to put you on your guard againſt which, is leading you the 270 Inſtructions for the Connoiſſeur. the firſt ſtep to true knowledge. For daily obſervation , during ſeveral years, in Italy, has taught me how lamentably moſt young tra vellers are duped by a ſet of blind leaders. To ſee them ſkip about in the the temple of art and genius, all quite ſober and cool, puts me in mind of a ſwarm of new - fledged grafhoppers wantoning in the ſpring. ON ON GRACE. 1 [ 273 ) Ο Ν Ġ R А C E. Χαριτων ημερο φωνων ιερού φυλον. GRACE RACE is the harmony of agent and action . It is a general idea : for what eveſ reaſonably pleaſes in things and actions is gracious. Grace is a gift of heaven ; though not like beauty, which muſt be born with the poffeffor : whereas nature gives only the dawn, the capability of this. Education and reflection form it by degrees, and cuſtom may give it the fanction of nature. As wa ter, That leaſt of foreign principles partakes, Is beft : So Grace is perfect when moſt ſimple, when freeſt from finery, conſtraint, and affected wit. Yet always to trace nature through the vaſt realms of pleaſure, or through all T the 274 On Grace. the windings of characters, and circum ſtances infinitely various, ſeems to require too pure and candid a taſte for this age, cloyed with pleaſure, in its judgments either partial , local , capricious, or incompetent. Then let it ſuffice to ſay, that Grace can never live where the paſſions rave ; that beauty and tranquillity of foul are the centre of its powers. By this Cleopatra fubdued Cæſar ; Anthony ſlighted Octavia and the world for this ; it breathes through every line of Xenophon ; Thucydides, it ſeems, diſdained its charms ; to Grace Apelles and Corregio owe immortality ; but Michael Angelo was blind to it ; though all the re mains of ancient art, even thoſe of but mid lling merit, might have ſatisfied him, that Grace alone places them above the reach of modern ſkill. The criticiſms on Grace in nature, and on its imitation by art, ſeem to differ : for inany are not ſhocked at thofe faults in the latter, that certainly would incur their diſ pleaſure On Grace 275 ز pleaſure in the former . This diverſity of feelings lies either in imitation itſelf, which perhaps affects the more the leſs it is akin to the thing imitated

or in the ſenſes being

little exerciſed, and in the want of attention , and of clear ideas of the objects in queſtion . But let us not from hence infer that Grace is wholly fictitious

the human mind ad

vances by degrees

nor are youth

, the pre judices of education , boiling paſſions, and their train of phantoms , the ſtandard of its real delight - remove ſome of theſe, and it admires what it loathed , and ſpurns what it doted on . Myriads, you ſay, the bulk of mankind , have not even the leaſt notion of Grace-- but what do they know of beauty , taſte , generoſity, or all the higher luxuries of the ſoul ? Theſe flowers of the human mind were not intended for univerſal growth , though their ſeeds lie in every breaſt. Grace , in works of art , concerns the human figure only

it modifies the atti

tude and countenance, dreſs and drapery. And T 2 here + 276 On Grace. here I muſt obſerve, that the following re marks do not extend to the comic part of art. The attitude and geſtures of antique figures are ſuch as thoſe have, who, con ſcious of merit, claim attention as their due, when appearing among menof ſenſe. Their motions always thew the motive ; clear, pure blood, and ſettled ſpirits; nor does it fig nify whether they ſtand, fit, or lie ; the at titudes of Bacchanals only are violent, and ought to be lo. In quiet ſituations, when one leg alone fupports the other which is free, this re cedes only as far as nature requires for put ting the figure out of its perpendicular. Nay, in the Fauni, the foot has been obſerved to have an inflected direction , as a token of ſa vage, regardleſs nature. To the modern artiſts a quiet attitude ſeemed inſipid and ſpiritleſs, and therefore they drag the leg at reſt for wards, and, to make the attitude ideal, re move part of the body's weight from the fup On Grace. 277 ſupporting leg, wring the trank out of its centre, and turn the head, like that of a perſon ſuddenly dazzled with lightning. Thofe to whom this is not clear, may pleaſe to recollect ſome ftage -knight, or a con ceited young Frenchman. Where room allowed not of ſuch an attitude, they, left unhappily the leg that has nothing to do might be unemployed, put ſomething ele vated under its foot, as if it were like that of a man who could not ſpeak without ſetting his foot on a ſtool, or ſtand without having a ſtone purpoſely put under it. The ancients took ſuch care of appearances, that you will hardly find a figure with croſſed legs, if not a Bacchus, Paris, or Nireus ; and in theſe they mean to expreſs effeminate indolence. In the countenances of antique figures, joy burſts not into laughter; ' tis only the repreſentation of inward pleaſure. Throug the face of a Bacchanal peeps only the dawn of luxury. In ſorrow and anguiſh they re T 3 ſemble 278 On Grace. ſemble the ſea, whoſe bottom is calm , whilſt the ſurface raves. Even in the ut moſt pangs of nature, Niobe continues ſtil! the heroine, who diſdained yielding to La tona . The ancients ſeem to have taken ad vantage of that ſituation of the foul, in which, ſtruck dumb by an immenſity of pains, ſhe borders upon inſenſībility ; to ex preſs, as it were, characters, independent of particular actions ; and to avoid ſcenes too terrifying, too paſſionate, ſometimes to paint the dignity of minds ſubduing grief. Thoſe of the moderns, that either were ignorant of antiquity, or neglected to en quire into Grace in nature, i have expreſſed, not only what nature feels, but likewiſe what the feels not. A Venus at Potzdam , by Pigal ', is repreſented in a ſentiment which

« Et toi , rival des Praxiteles & des Phidias ; toi

“ dont les anciens auroient employé le ciſeau à leur • faire des dieux capables d'excuſer à nos yeux leur “ idolatrie ; inimitable Pigal , ta main ſe réſoudra a " yendre des magots, ou il faudra qu'elle demeure oiſive ." On Grace . 279 which forces the liquor to flow out at both fides of her mouth , feemingly gaſping for breath ; for ſhe was intended to pant with luft : yet, by all that's deſperate ! was this very Pigal ſeveral years entertained at Rome to ſtudy the antique. A Carita of Bernini, on one of the papal monuments in St. Pe ter's , ought, you'll think, to look upon her children with benevolence and maternal fondneſs; but her face is all a contradiction to this ; for the artiſt, inſtead of real graces, applied to her his noſtrum , dimples, by which her fondneſs becomes a perfect ſneer. As for the expreſſion of modern ſorrow , every one knows it, who has ſeen cuts, hair torn , garments rent, quite the reverſe of the antique, which, like Hamlet's, bath that within, which paſſethfleto : Thefe, but the trappings, and the ſuits of wo'. < oiſive. " J. J. Rouſſeau Diſc. fi le Retabl. d. A. S. &c. This, my dear countryman ! is the only paſſage of thine, where pofterity will find the orator forgot the philoſopher. N. of Tr. T I 4 The 280 an Grace. The geſtures of the hands of antique figures, and their attitudes in general, are thoſe of people that think themſelves alone and un obſerved : and though the hands of but very few ſtatues have eſcaped deſtruction, yet may you , from the direction of the arm , gueſs at the eaſy and natural motion of the hand. Some moderns, indeed, that hạve ſupplied ſtatues with hands or fingers, have too often given them their own favouritę attitudes that of a Venus at her toilet, diſplaying to her levee the graces of a hand,, far lovelier when bebeld. The action of modern hands is commonly like the geſticulation of a young preacher, piping- hot from the college. Holds a figure her cloths ? You would think them cob web. Nemeſis, who, on antique gems, lifts her peplum ſoftly from her boſom , would be thought too griping for any new performance how can you be ſo unpolite to think any thing may be held , without the On Grace. 281 the three laſt fingers genteely ſtretched forth ? Grace, in the accidental parts of antiques, conſiſts, like that of the eſſential ones, in what becomes nature . The drapery of the moſt ancientworksis eaſy and Night : hence it was natural to give the folds beneath the girdle an almoſt perpendicular direction. Variety indeed was fought, in proportion to the increaſe of art ; but drapery ſtill re mained a thin floating texture, with folds gathered up, not lumped together, or indiſcreetly ſcattered. That theſe were the chief principles of ancient drapery, you may convince yourſelf from the beautiful Flora in the Campidoglio, a work of Ha drian's times. Bacchanals and dancing fi gures had, indeed, even if ftatues, more waving garments, ſuch as played upon the air ; ſuch a one is in the Palazzo Riccardi at Florence ; but even then the artiſts did not neglect appearances, nor exceed the nature of the materials. Gods and heroes are re pre 282 On Grace. preſented as the inhabitants of facred places, the dwellings of filent awe, not like a ſport for the winds, or as wafting the colours: floating, airy garments are chiefly to be met with on gemswhere Atalanta flies As meditation ſwift, ſwift as the thoughts of love.

Grace extends to garments, as ſuch were given

to the Graces by the ancients. How would you wiſh to ſee the Graces dreſſed ? Certainly not in birth-day robes ; but rather like a beauty you loved, ſtill warm from the bed, in an eaſy negligee. The moderns, ſince the epoch of Raphael and his ſchool, ſeem to have forgot that drapery participates of Grace, by their giving the preference to heavy garments, which might not improperly be called the wrap pers of ignorance in beauty : for a thick large - folded drapery may ſpare the artiſts the pains of tracing the Contour under it, as the ancients did. Some of the modern figures On Gráce. 283 figures ſeem to be made only for laſting. 臺 Bernini and Peter of Cortona introduced this drapery. For ourſelves, we chooſe light eaſy dreſſes ; why do we grudge our figures the ſame advantage ? He that would give a Hiſtory of Grace, after the revolution of the arts, would per haps find himſelf almoſt reduced to nega tives, eſpecially in ſculpture. In ſculpture, the imitation of one great man, of Michael Angelo, has debauched the artiſts from Grace. He, who valued him ſelf upon “ a pure intelligence " deſpiſed all that could pleaſe humanity ; his exalted learning diſdained to ſtoop to tender feelings and lovely grace . There are poems of his publiſhed, and in manuſcript, that abound in meditations on ſublime beauty : but you look in vain for it in his works. - Beauty, even the beau ty of a God, wants Grace, and Mofes, without it, from awful as he was, becomes only terrible. Immoderately fond of all that his being was 284 On Grace. was extraordinary and difficult, he foon broke through the Lounds of antiquity, grace, and nature ; and as he panted for occaſions of diſplaying ſkill only, he grew extravagant. His lying ſtatues, on the ducal tombs of St. Lorenzo at Florence, have attitudes, which life, undiſtorted, can not imitate : fo careleſs was he, provided he might dazzle you with his mazy learn ing ) of that decency, which nature and the place required , that to him we might apply, what a poet fays of St. Lewis in hell : Laiſant le vray pour prendre la grimace, Il fut toujours au delà de la Grace, Et bien plus loin que les commandements. He was blindly imitated by his diſciples, and in them the want of Grace ſhocks you ſtill more : for as they were far his inferiors in ſcience, you have no equiva lent at all . How little Guilielmo della Porta , On Grace. 285

Porta, the beſt of them all, underſtood grace and the antique, you may ſee in that marble groupe, called the Farneſe-bull where Dirce is his to the girdle. John di Bologna, Agardi, Fiammingo, are great names, but likewiſe inferior to the ancients, in Grace. At laſt Lorenzo Bernini appeared, a man of ſpirit and ſuperior talents, but whom Grace had never viſited even in dreams. He aimed at encyclopædy in art ; painter, architect, ftatuary, he ſtruggled, chiefly as ſuch , to become original. In his eighteenth year he produced his Apollo and Daphne ; a work miraculous for thoſe pro miſing that ſculpture by him ſhould attain perfection. Soon after he made his Da vid, which fell ſhort of Apollo. Proud of general applauſe, and ſenſible of his im potency, either to equal or to offuſcate the antiques ; he ſeems, encouraged by the daſtardly taſte of that age, to have formed the years, and 4 286 Ön Grace. the project of becoming a legiſlator in art, for all enſuing ages, and he carried his point. From that time the Graces entirely forſook him : how could they abide with man who begun his career from the end oppoſite to the ancients ? His forms he compiled from common nature, and his ideas from the inhabitants of climates unknown to him ; for in Italy's happieſt parts nature differs from his figures. He was worſhipped as the genius of art, and univerſally imitated ; for, in our days, fta tues being erected to pięty only, none to wiſdom , a ſtatue à la Bernini is likelier to make the kitchen proſper than a Lao Coon . From Italy, reader, I leave gueſs at other countries. A celebrated Puget, Girardon, with all his brethren in On, are worſe. Judge of the connoiſſeurs of France by Watelet, and of its deſigners, you to by Mariette's gems. At 1 4 On Grace, 287 At Athens the Graces ſtood eaſtward, in a ſacred place. Our artiſts ſhould place them over their work -houſes ; wear them in their rings ; ſeal with them ; ſacrifice to them ; and, court their fovereign charms to their laſt breath . THE END. ERR A T A. Page 20. Line 13. for comma after ſays, place ſemi- colon . P. 61. L. 7. for Morte read Morto. P. 83. Note, for Bernoue read Bernoull. P. 94. L. 3. after Nature add a colon - after flat add it. P. 105. L. 10. dele Lucian, Ep. I. P. 166. Note f. inſtead of 'OA.T. v.230. read 4. v . 163. P. 181. L. 13. for on read in. P. 189. L. 20. for or read on. P. 197. Note d. for adv. read ad v. P. 227. L. 12. for the read her. 1

See also

• Good taste