given for a _Virgin_ by Murillo, which is now turning the heads of all
who behold it. I confess that mine has entirely resisted. I admire the
freshness, the sweetness, the harmony of color; but every other superior
quality which one looks to find in such a subject is wanting, or at
least escaped me. Ecstasy never transfigured that face, which is neither
noble nor great. The lovely infant before me does not seem sensible of
the profound mystery accomplished in her. What, then, can there be in
this vaunted Virgin which so catches the multitude? She is supported by
beautiful angels, in a fine dress, of a charming color, the effect of
all which is doubtless highly pleasant.
Page 195: "We endeavor to console ourselves for having lost the _Seven
Sacraments_, and for not having known how to keep from England and
Germany so many productions of Poussin, now buried in foreign
collections," etc.
After having expressed our regret that we were unacquainted with the
_Seven Sacraments_ save from the engravings of Pesne, we made a journey
to London, to see with our own eyes, and judge for ourselves these
famous pictures, with many others of our great countryman, now fallen
into the possession of England, through our culpable indifference, and
which have been brought under our notice by M Waagen.
In the few days we were able to dedicate to this little journey, we had
to examine four galleries: the National Gallery, answering to our
Museum, those of Lord Ellesmere and the Marquis of Westminster, and, at
some miles from London, the collection at Dulwich College, celebrated in
England, though but little known on the continent.
We likewise visited another collection, resulting from an institution
which might easily be introduced into France, to the decided advantage
of art and taste. A society has been formed in England, called the
British Institution for promoting the Fine Arts in the United Kingdom.
Every year it has, in London, an exhibition of ancient paintings, to
which individual galleries send their choice pieces, so that in a
certain number of years all the most remarkable pictures in England pass
under the public eye. But for this exhibition, what riches would remain
buried in the mansions of the aristocracy or unknown cabinets of
provincial amateurs! The society, having at its head the greatest names
of England, enjoys a certain authority, and all ranks respond eagerly to
its appeal.
We ourselves saw the list of persons who this year contributed to the
exhibition; there were her Majesty the Queen, the Dukes of Bedford,
Devonshire, Newcastle, Northumberland, Sutherland, the Earls of Derby
and Suffolk, and numerous other great men, besides bankers, merchants,
_savants_, and artists. The exhibition is public, but not free, as you
must pay both for admission and the printed catalogue. The money thus
acquired is appropriated to defray the expenses of the exhibition;
whatever remains is employed in the purchase of pictures, which are then
presented to the National Gallery.
At this year's exhibition we saw three of Claude Lorrain's, which well
sustained the name of that master. _Apollo watching the herds of
Admetus_; a _Sea-port_, both belonging to the Earl of Leicester, and
_Psyche and Amor_, the property of Mr. Perkins; a pretended Lesueur, the
_Death of the Virgin_, from the Earl of Suffolk; seven Sebastian
Bourdons, the _Seven Works of Mercy_,[285] lent by the Earl of
Yarborough; a landscape by Gaspar Poussin, but not one _morceau_ of his
illustrious brother-in-law's.
We were more fortunate in the National Gallery.
There, to begin, what admirable Claudes! We counted as many as ten, some
of them of the highest value. We will confine ourselves to the
recapitulation of three, the Embarkation of St. Ursula, a large
landscape, and the Embarkation of the Queen of Sheba.
1st. _The Embarkation of St. Ursula_, which was painted for the
Barberini, and adorned their palace at Rome until the year 1760, when an
English amateur purchased it from the Princess Barberini, with other
works of the first class. This picture is 3 feet 8 inches high, 4 feet
11 inches wide.
2d. The large landscape is 4 feet 11 inches high, 6 feet 7 inches wide.
Rebecca is seen, with her relatives and servants, waiting the arrival of
Isaac, who comes from afar to celebrate their marriage.
3d. _The Embarkation of the Queen of Sheba_, going to visit Solomon,
formed a pendent to the preceding figure, which it resembles in its
dimensions. It is both a sea and landscape drawing, M. Waagen declares
it to be the most beautiful _morceau_ of the kind he is acquainted with,
and asserts that Lorrain has here attained perfection, vol. i., p. 211.
This masterpiece was executed by Claude for his protector, the Duke de
Bouillon. It is signed "Claude GE. I. V., faict pour son Altesse le Duc
de Bouillon, anno 1648." Doubtless the great Duke de Bouillon, eldest
brother of Turenne. This French work, destined, too, for France, she has
now forever lost, as well as the famous Book of Truth, _Libro di
Verita_, in which Claude collected the drawings of all his paintings,
drawings which may be themselves regarded as finished pictures. This
invaluable treasure was, like the _Embarkation of the Queen of Sheba_,
for a long time in the hands of a French broker, who would willingly
have relinquished it to the Government, but failing to find purchasers
in Paris in the last century, ultimately sold it for a mere nothing into
Holland, whence it has passed into England.[286] The author of the
_Musees d'Allemagne et de Russie_, mentions that in the gallery of the
Hermitage at St. Petersburg, amongst a large number of Claudes, whose
authenticity he appears to admit, there are four _morceaux_, which he
does not hesitate to declare equal to the most celebrated
_chefs-d'oeuvre_ of that master, in Paris or London, called the
_Morning_, the _Noon_, the _Evening_, and the _Night_. They are from
Malmaison. Thus the sale of the gallery of an empress has in our own
time enriched Russia, as, twenty-five years before, the sale of the
Orleans gallery enriched England.
In the National Gallery, along with the serene and quiet landscapes of
Lorrain, are five of Caspar's, depicting nature under an opposite
aspect--rugged and wild localities, and tempests. One of the most
remarkable represents Eneas and Dido seeking shelter in a grotto from
the violence of a storm. The figures are from the pencil of Albano, and
for a length of time remained in the palace Falconieri. Two other
landscapes are from the palace Corsini, and two from the palace Colonna.
But to return to our real subject, which is Poussin. There are eight
paintings by his hand in the National Gallery, all worthy of mention. M.
Waagen has merely spoken of them in general terms, but we shall proceed
to give a description in detail.
Of these eight paintings, only one, representing the plague of Ashdod,
is taken from sacred history. This is described in the printed catalogue
as No. 105. The Israelites having been vanquished by the Philistines,
the ark was taken by the victors and placed in the temple of Dagon at
Ashdod. The idol falls before the ark, and the Philistines are smitten
with the pestilence. This canvas is 4 feet 3 inches high, and 6 feet 8
inches, wide. A sketch or copy of the _Plague of the Philistines_ is in
the Museum of the Louvre, and has been engraved by Picard. Poussin was,
in fact, fond of repeating a subject; there are two sets of the _Seven
Sacraments_, two _Arcadias_,[287] two or three _Moses striking the
Rock_, &c. The science of painting is here employed to portray the scene
in all its terrors, and display every horror of the pestilence, and it
would seem that Poussin had here endeavored to contend with Michael
Angelo, even at the expense of beauty. It is said the commission for
this work was given by Cardinal Barberini. It comes from the palace of
Colonna. The subjects of the remaining seven pictures in the National
Gallery are mythological, and may be nearly all referred to the early
epoch of Poussin's career, when he paid tribute to the genius of the
16th century, and yielded to the influence of Marini.
No. 39. The _Education of Bacchus_, a subject chosen by Poussin more
than once. On a small canvas 2 feet 3 inches high, and 3 feet 1 inch
wide.
No. 40. Another small picture 1 foot 6 inches high, and 3 feet 4 inches
broad: _Phocion washing his Feet at a Public Fountain_, a touching
emblem of the purity and simplicity of his life. To heighten this rustic
scene, and impart its meaning, the painter shows us the trophies of the
noble warrior hung on the trunk of a tree at a little distance. The
whole composition is striking and full of animation. We believe that it
has never been engraved. It forms a happy addition to the two other
compositions consecrated by Poussin to Phocion, and which have been so
admirably engraved by Baudet, _Phocion carried out of the City of
Athens_, and the _Tomb of Phocion_.
No. 42. Here is one of the three bacchanals painted by Poussin for the
Duke de Montmorency. The two others are said to be in the collection of
Lord Ashburnham. This bacchanal is 4 feet 8 inches high, and 3 feet 1
inch wide. In a warm landscape Bacchus is sleeping surrounded by nymphs,
satyrs, and centaurs, whilst Silenus appears under an arbor attended by
sylvan figures.
No. 62. Another bacchanal, which may be considered one of Poussin's
masterpieces. According to M. Waagen, it belonged to the Colonna
collection, but the catalogue, published _by authority_, states that it
was originally the property of the Comte de Vaudreueili, that it
afterwards came into the hands of M. de Calonne, whence it passed into
England, and ultimately found its way into the hands of Mr. Hamlet, from
whom it was purchased by Parliament, and placed in the National Gallery.
It is 3 feet 8 inches high, and 4 feet 8 inches wide. Its subject is a
dance of fauns and bacchantes, which is interrupted by a satyr, who
attempts to take liberties with a nymph. Besides the main subject, there
are numerous spirited and graceful episodes, particularly two infants
endeavoring to catch in a cup the juice of a bunch of grapes supported
in air, and pressed by a bacchante of slim and fine form. The
composition is full of fire, energy, and spirit. There is not a single
group, not a figure, which will not repay an attentive study. M. Waagen
does not hesitate to pronounce it one of Poussin's finest. He admires
the truth and variety of heads, the freshness of color, and the
transparent tone (_die Faerbung von seltenster Frische, Helle und
Klarheit in allen Theilen_). It has been engraved by Huart, and
accurately copied by Landon, under the title of _Danse de Fauns et de
Bacchantes_.
No. 65. _Cephalus and Aurora._ Aurora, captivated by the beauty of
Cephalus, endeavors to separate him from his wife Procris. Being
unsuccessful, in a fit of jealousy she gives to Cephalus the dart which
causes the death of his adored spouse. 3 feet 2 inches high, 4 feet 2
inches wide.
No. 83. A large painting, 5 feet 6 inches high, and 8 feet wide,
representing _Phineas and his Companions changed into Stones by looking
on the Gorgon_. Perseus, having rescued Andromeda from the sea monster,
obtains her hand from her father Cepheus, who celebrates their nuptials
with a magnificent feast. Phineas, to whom Andromeda had been betrothed,
rushes in upon the festivity at the head of a troop of armed men. A
combat ensues, in which Perseus, being nearly overcome, opposes to his
enemies the head of Medusa, by which they are instantly changed to
stone. This composition is full of vigor, with brilliant coloring,
although somewhat crude. It is nowhere mentioned, and we are not aware
of its having been engraved.
No. 91. A charming little drawing, 2 feet 2 inches high, 1 foot 8 inches
wide: _A sleeping Nymph, surprised by Lore and Satyrs_, engraved by
Daulle, also in Landon's work.
Passing from the National Gallery to that of Bridgewater, we come upon
another phase of Poussin's genius, and encounter not the disciple of
Mariai but the disciple of the gospel, the graces of mythology giving
way to the austerity and sublimity of Christianity. Such is the account
of what we came to see; we looked for much, and found more than we
expected.
The Bridgewater Gallery is so named after its founder, the Duke of
Bridgewater, by whom it was formed about the middle of the eighteenth
century. He bequeathed it to his brother, the Marquis of Stafford, on
the condition of his leaving it to his second son, Lord Francis Egerton,
now Lord Ellesmere. The best part of this collection was engraved during
the life of the Marquis of Stafford, by Ottley, under the title of the
Stafford Gallery, in 4 vols. folio.
It occupies the first place in England amongst private collections, on
account of the number of masterpieces of the Italian, and Dutch, and
French schools. A large number of paintings were added to it from the
Orleans Gallery, and we could not repress a feeling of regret to meet at
Cleveland Square with so many masterpieces formerly belonging to France,
and which have been engraved in the two celebrated works: 1. _La Galerie
du duc d'Orleans au Palais-Royal_, 2 volumes in folio; 2. _Recueil
d'estampes d'apres les plus beaux tableaux et dessins qui sont en France
dans le cabinet du roi et celui de Monseigneur le duc d'Orleans_, 1729,
2 volumes in folio; a most valuable collection known also under the name
of the _Cabinet of Crozat_. This admirable collection is deposited in a
building worthy of it, in a veritable palace, and consists of nearly 300
paintings. The French school is here well represented. The _Musical
Party_, from the Orleans Gallery, and engraved in the _Galerie du
Palais-Royal_, three Bourguignons, four Gaspars, four fine Claudes,
described by M. Waagen, vol. i., p. 331, the two former described in the
catalogue as Nos. 11 and 41 were painted in 1664 for M. de Bourlemont, a
gentleman of Lorraine; the former, _Demosthenes by the Sea-side_, offers
a fine contrast between majestic ruins and nature eternally young and
fresh; the second, _Moses at the Burning Bush_, a third, No. 103, of the
year 1657, was likewise painted for a Frenchman, M. de Lagarde, and
represents the _Metamorphosis of Apuleius into a Shepherd_; lastly,
there is a fourth, No. 97, the freshest idyll that ever was, a _View of
the Cascatelles of Tivoli_.
The memory of these charming compositions, however, soon fades before
the view of the eight grand pictures of Poussin, marked in the catalogue
Nos. 62-69, the _Seven Sacraments_, and _Moses striking the Rock with
his Rod_.
It would be difficult to describe the religious sensations which took
possession of us whilst contemplating the _Seven Sacraments_. Whatever
M. Waagen may please to assert, there is certainly nothing theatrical
about them. The beauty of ancient statuary is here animated and
enlivened by the spirit of Christianity, and the genius of the painter.
The moral expression is of the most exalted character, and is left to be
noticed less in the details than in the general composition. In fact, it
is in composition that Poussin excels, and, in this respect, we do not
think he has any superior, not even of the Florentine and Roman school.
As each _Sacrament_ is a vast scene in which the smallest details go to
enhance the effect of the whole, so the _Seven Sacraments_ form a
harmonious entirety, a single work, representing the development of the
Christian life by means of its most august ceremonies, in the same way
as the twenty-two _St. Brunos_ of Lesueur express the whole monastic
life, the intention of the variety being to give a truer conception of
its unity. Can any one, in sincerity, say as much as this for the
_Stanze_ of the Vatican? Have they a common sentiment? Is the sentiment
profound, and, indeed, Christian? No doubt Raphael elevates the soul,
whatever is beautiful cannot fail to do that; but he touches only the
surface, _circum praecordia ludit_; he penetrates not deep; moves not the
inner fibres of our being: for why? he himself was not so moved. He
snatches us from earth, and transports us into the serene atmosphere of
eternal beauty; but the mournful side of life, the sublime emotions of
the heart, magnanimity, heroism, in a word, moral grandeur, this he
does not express; and why was this? because he did not possess it in
himself, because it was not to be met with around him in the Italy of
the 16th century, in a society semi-pagan, superstitious, and impious,
given up to every vice and disorder, which Luther could not even catch a
glimpse of without raging with horror, and meditating a revolution. From
this corrupt basis, thinly hidden by a fictitious politeness, two great
figures, Michael Angelo and Vittoria Colonna, show themselves. But the
noble widow of the Marquis of Pescaria was not of the company of the
Fornarina; and what common ground could the chaste lover of the second
Beatrice, the Dante of painting and of sculpture, the intrepid engineer
who defended Florence, the melancholy author of _the Last Judgment_ and
of _Lorenzo di Medici_, have with such men as Perugino boldly professing
atheism, at the same time that he painted, at the highest price
possible, the most delicate Madonnas; and his worthy friend Aretino,
atheist, and moreover hypocrite, writing with the same hand his infamous
sonnets and the life of the Holy Virgin; and Giulio Romano, who lent his
pencil to the wildest debaucheries, and Marc' Antonio, who engraved
them? Such is the world in which Raphael lived, and which early taught
him to worship material beauty, the purest taste in design, if not the
strongest, fine drawing, sweet contours, of light, of color, but which
always hides from him the highest beauty, that is, moral beauty. Poussin
belongs to a very different world. Thanks to God, he had learned to know
in France others besides artists without faith or morals, elegant
amateurs, rich prelates, and compliant beauties. He had seen with his
eyes heroes, saints, and statesmen. He must have met, at the court of
Louis XIII., between 1640 and 1642, the young Conde and the voting
Turenne, St. Vincent de Paul, Mademoiselle de Vigean, and Mademoiselle
de Lafayette; had shaken hands with Richelieu, with Lesueur, with
Champagne, and no doubt also with Corneille. Like the last, he is grave
and masculine; he has the sentiment of the great, and strives to reach
it. If, above every thing, he is an artist, if his long career is an
assiduous and indefatigable study of beauty, it is pre-eminently moral
beauty that strikes him: and when he represents historic or Christian
scenes, one feels he is there, like the author of the Cid, of Cinna, and
of Polyeuete, in his natural element. He shows, assuredly, much spirit
and grace in his mythologies, and like Corneille in several of his
elegies and in the Declaration of Love to Psyche: but also like him, it
is in the thoughtful and noble style that Poussin excels: it is on the
moral ground that he has a place exalted and apart in the history of
art.
It is not our intention to describe the _Seven Sacraments_, which has
been done by others more competent to the task than ourselves. We will
only inquire whether Bossuet himself, in speaking of the sacrament of
the _Ordination_, could have employed more gravity and majesty than
Poussin has done in the noble painting, so well preserved, in the
gallery of Lord Ellesmere. It is worthy of remark, in this as in the
other paintings of Poussin's best period, how admirably the landscape
accords with the historic portion. Whilst the foreground is occupied
with the great scene in which Christ transmits his power to St. Peter
before the assembled apostles,[288] in the distance, and above the
heights, are descried edifices rising and in decay. Doubtless, the
_Extreme Unction_ is the most pathetic; affects and attracts us most by
its various qualities, particularly by a certain austere grace shed
around the images of death;[289] but, unhappily, this striking
composition has almost totally disappeared under the black tint, which
has little by little gained on the other colors, and obscured the whole
painting, so that we are well-nigh reduced to the engraving of Pesne,
and the beautiful drawing preserved in the museum of the Louvre.[290]
Most unhappily a technical error, into which even the most
inconsiderable painter would not now fall, has deprived posterity of one
half of Poussin's labors. He was in the habit of covering his canvas
with a preparation of red, which has been changed by the effect of time
into black, and thus absorbed the other colors, destroying the effect of
the etherial perspective. As every one knows, this does not occur with a
white preparation, which, instead of destroying the colors, preserves
them for a length of time in their original state. This last process
Poussin appears to have adopted in the _Moses striking the Rock with his
Staff_, incomparably the finest of all the _Strikings of the Rock_ which
proceeded from his pencil. This masterpiece is well known, from the
engraving by Baudet, and has passed, with the _Seven Sacraments_, from
the Orleans gallery into the collection at Bridgewater. What unity is in
this vast composition, and yet what variety in the action, the pose, the
features of the figures! It consists of twenty different pictures, and
yet is but one; and not even one of the episodes could be taken away
without considerable injury to the _ensemble_ of the piece. At the same
time, what fine coloring! The impastation is both solid and light, and
the colors are combined in the happiest manner. No doubt they might
possess greater brilliancy; but the severity of the subject agrees well
with a moderate tone. It is important to remember this. In the first
place, every subject demands its proper color: in the second, grave
subjects require a certain amount of coloring, which, however, must not
be exceeded. Although the highest art does not consist in coloring, it
would nevertheless be folly to regard it as of small importance: for, in
that case, drawing would be every thing, and color might be altogether
dispensed with. In attempting too far to please the eye, the risk is
incurred of not going beyond and penetrating to the soul. On the other
hand, want of color, or what is perhaps still worse, a disagreeable,
crude, and improper coloring, while it offends the eye, likewise impairs
the moral effect, and deprives even beauty of its charm. Color is to
painting what harmony is to poetry and prose. There is equal defect
whether in the case of too much or too little harmony, while one same
harmony continued must be looked upon as a serious fault. Is Corneille
happily inspired? His harmony, like his words, are true, beautiful,
admirable in their variety. The tones differ with his different
characters, but are always consistent with the conditions of harmony
imposed by poesy. Is he negligent? his style then becomes rude,
unpolished, at times intolerable. The harmony of Racine is slightly
monotonous, his men talk like women, and his lyre was but one tone, that
of a natural and refined elegance. There is but one man amongst us who
speaks in every tone and in all languages, who has colors and accents
for every subject, _naive_ and sublime, vividly correct yet unaffectedly
simple. Sweet as Racine in his lament of Madame, masculine and vigorous
as Corneille or Tacitus when he comes to describe Retz or Cromwell,
clear as the battle trumpet when his strain is Roeroy or Conde,
suggestive of the equal and varied flow of a mighty river in the
majestic harmony of his Discourse on Universal History, a History which,
in the grandeur and extent of its composition, in its vanquished
difficulties, its depth of art, where art even ceases to appear as such,
in its perfect unity, and, at the same time, almost infinite variety of
tone and style, is perhaps the most finished work which has ever come
from the hand of man.
To return to Poussin. At Hampton Court, where, by the side of the seven
cartoons of Raphael, the nine magnificent Montegnas representing the
triumph of Caesar, and the fine portraits of Albert Durer and Holbein,
French art makes so small a figure, there is a Poussin[291] of
particularly fine color, _Satyrs finding a Nymph_. The transparent and
lustrous body of the nymph forms the entire picture. It is a study of
design and color, evidently of the period when Poussin, to perfect
himself in every branch of his art, made copies from Titian.