SIR JOSHUA REYNOLDS is the founder of the English school. He is
also the author of much that presently forms the most objectionable
practice. Like every great artist, Sir Joshua must be viewed in two
lights--as he stands in reference to the circumstances of his own
age, and as an individual master in his profession. As the immediate
successor, then, of the artists already named, and as elevating
the art from their inanity to the state in which he left it, he
justly ranks among the small number who compose the reformers of
taste. In this aspect, his genius exhibits no ordinary claims to the
gratitude of posterity, while here his merits are presented in the
most favorable light. For when these are considered, on the other
hand, as regards the present influence of the principles upon which
the reformation, or perhaps commencement, of the English school was
established, there will be found defect both in practice and theory.
Indeed, the theoretical part of his professional education appears to
have been founded, in the first instance, upon the erroneous modes of
the writers of the age of Louis XIV., which were never laid aside,
though to a certain extent modified by his studies in Italy. In fact,
the pictures and the writings of Sir Joshua bear in this respect
a striking resemblance--that the beauties of each break forth in
despite of theory. Nature and good feeling, operating unrestrained,
give to his paintings their best graces, when the ideal perfection at
which he aimed has at happy moments been forgotten. In like manner,
his discourses are admirable, when they deliver practical precepts,
explain the suggestions of experience, or endeavor to reconcile refined
taste with common sentiment. But when they speak of the abstractions
and idealities of art, they become, and have already proved, most
treacherous guides. This he has himself exemplified, for he has
uniformly gone astray where he has implicitly followed these guides;
and it may be shown that the besetting sins of the English school
spring from the same sources. Sir Joshua's theory and his practice
were in more than one respect inconsistent, while neither adhered so
closely to, or at least did not render nature, so faithfully and so
minutely, as is desirable. His perceptions of form he derived, or
professed to derive, from Michael Angelo; but his practice is founded
upon the principles of Rembrandt. From the explanation of these already
given, with this anticipation, at some length, it must at once appear,
that they were little calculated kindly to amalgamate with the decided
lines, refined science, and lofty abstractions of the Florentine. But
even of these principles, Sir Joshua did not follow the most valuable
portion, namely, the rigid fidelity of imitation which they enjoined.
He adopted them only in their concentration of light, and deep contrast
of shadow, and in their massive coloring, intended for inspection at
a certain distance. Instead of careful resemblance, he substituted
middle forms, and large masses without details; or, to refer here to
his own words, which he has most directly illustrated in his whole
practice:--'the great style in art, and the most perfect imitation of
nature, consist in avoiding the details and peculiarities of particular
objects;' and again: 'the perfection of portrait painting consists in
giving the general idea or character, without individual peculiarities.'
Now, whether these principles be regarded as they affect the practice
of an imitative art, and more especially in the department of
portraiture; or whether they be examined in reference to the philosophy
of taste and composition in historical painting, we apprehend they
will be found not only reprehensible in themselves, but to be the
ground work upon which have been reared the present errors of our
school. It is for this reason that we shall examine them at some length.
There are two styles or modes of representation in painting, which
agree in producing the same general effect of resemblance, but differ
in the extent to which the resemblance of individual forms is carried;
or perhaps, if the expression be allowed, in the number of particular
similitudes composing the aggregate resemblance. It is evident from
this definition, that the portion of mental pleasure, or exercise of
the imagination, arising from contemplating the productions of an
imitative art, merely as such, will be increased just in proportion
to the facilities afforded of augmenting comparisons between the
prototype and the representation. If this be denied, it follows that
the coarsest scene-painting is equal to the most finished landscape
of Claude; for the general effect must be alike true in each. But
again, since painting has not, like poetry, the advantage of repeated
and progressive impressions; the object which the painter must hold
constantly, and as primary, in view, is to add power to the first burst
of effect which his work is to produce upon the mind. When, therefore,
attention to the individual resemblances has caused to be neglected
or overlooked the grand result or aggregate of resemblance, one of
the greatest possible errors is committed. The performance is justly
condemned to a low grade in art, because the author has both mistaken
the real strength of the instrument which he wields, and has shown
himself defective in the highest quality of genius,--comprehension
and creation of a whole. Thus there are two extremes in art; and even
on the adage of common life, the mean must be preferable. Hence,
then, even thus far Sir Joshua's maxim, and the maxim of too large a
proportion of our native school generally, appears to be erroneous,
'in avoiding details and individual character.' But in each of these
extremes are found its respective, and to excellence, indispensable
advantages. The nearer, therefore, they can be approached and
reconciled, the more perfect will be the style. If this be doubted,
the practice of the best masters will accord with a conclusion derived
from the very nature of an art at once imitative and liberal. If we
examine in this view the remains of classic sculpture, we find, indeed,
the masses and divisions few and simple, in order to preserve the
harmony and force of general effect; but so far from details being
excluded, the Elgin marbles have the very veins of the horses marked,
and are in every respect highly finished; and as we approach the era
of Alexander, though this particular circumstance in certain cases be
laid aside, yet the general divisions become even more numerous, and
the details still more minute. Among the moderns, again, those masters
in the art now considered, who are esteemed the most excellent, are
singularly remarkable for the quantity and variety of detail which
they have harmonized into one grand and perfect whole. For this we
refer to the heads of Raphael, Titian, Coreggio, and Vandyke, which,
though broad and grand in general effect, are so far from being
defective in detail, that each separate part would form a perfect
study. If, again, the history of art be considered, it has been shown,
both in sculpture and in painting, that during the infancy of each
art, details were imitated, while the mind was yet unable to grasp
the entire subject. As improvement advanced, and genius attained
the full mastery of its weapons, truth and number of constituents,
grandeur and unity of design, crowned the whole. Inversely, decline
is perceived to commence in the neglect of those fine and almost
evanescent details, which compose the breathing, the master-touches of
a work of art. Successively the progress of corruption advances, till
little remain save large harsh masses, from which state the downward
path is rapid, to the complete destitution of even _general_ form. How
strongly, for instance, and in how short a space, was this exemplified
in the fortunes of Greek sculpture in Rome! From the finishing of even
Ludovico Caracci, to the sprawlings of Luca Giordano, how brief was
the interval! from the exquisitely pencilled and speaking portraits of
Vandyke to the glaring vacancies, the undetailed middle forms, of Lely
and Kneller!
These reasonings, so varied in their origin, give but one uniform
conclusion, the very reverse of the principle upon which English
portraits have been painted, with few exceptions, from the works of Sir
Joshua Reynolds to those of the present day;--a conclusion, showing
that the excellence of art, and the most perfect imitation of nature,
do not consist in 'the avoiding of details,' but in the happy union
of detail and of individual resemblance with greatness and breadth of
general power. To avoid details is to rest contented with an inferior
aim in art--to avoid, in fact, the chief difficulty and the chief glory
that mark the career of the artist.
This gross style of mechanical practice, which the theory now combated
certainly originated, has spread over the whole of English portraiture
a coarseness of effect and unfinished appearance, destitute of the
agreeable lightness of a sketch, and yet without the clear and
well-defined solidity of a highly-wrought picture. In like manner,
the striving at some delusive, some shadowy excellence of general
expression, instead of representing the air and character exactly
as in the countenance of the sitter, has greatly depreciated the
intellectual qualities of our art. Hence the unmeaning, common-place
look which most of portraits cast at the spectator. Doubtless, in
every countenance there is a general impress of thought or feeling,
which may be said to constitute the habitual mental likeness of the
individual. This it is of the first importance faithfully to transfer
to the canvass. Without this, indeed, the most correct and elaborate
pronouncing of the separate features is of no comparative value. Hence,
however, it by no means follows, that 'individual peculiarities' are
to be resigned. On the contrary, when judiciously introduced, they
will give force by the very addition of individuality to the general
resemblance. It is this which imparts the speaking impress of thought
and mind to the portraits of Raphael and Titian, where 'the rapt soul
sitting in the eye' seems to breathe, in all its historic energies,
from the canvass. It astonishes, indeed, that such precepts should have
been delivered by one who must have been sensible, that the reformation
which he accomplished in contemporary art, was mainly owing to his
having exploded the very same notions of generalizing resemblance,
and of middle forms, held by his predecessors. In fact, Reynolds was
superior to Lely or Kneller, or even Hudson, chiefly as he approached
nearer to nature, by discarding mannered, conventional, and systematic
modifications of her realities. And he is superior to himself exactly
in those works where he has left out his own peculiar 'ways of seeing
nature,' and has given her honestly and faithfully as she actually did
appear. Thus his best portraits are those of his intimate friends;--men
whose habits of thought and action were pressed upon him by constant
observance, and in veneration of whom, and of all that belonged to
them, he forgot his system in the subject before him. Such are the
portraits of Dr Johnson, of Baretti, of Goldsmith, of Burney, and
two of the finest and most powerful likenesses in the world, of John
Hunter and Bishop Newton. As it was with Sir Joshua, so will it be with
every other artist. He must not merely imitate, he must resign himself
to, nature; become as a little child, leaving all artifice and false
knowledge, and receive from her the precepts of truth and soberness.
These remarks, though now illustrated chiefly by reference to its
founder, are applicable more or less to the English school of
portraiture generally. Indeed, down to the masters of the present day,
these precepts operate, and often not less decidedly than in the works
of those who were the contemporaries of Sir Joshua. Of the latter, the
names of a few of the principal may now be enumerated.
Romney, who died in 1802, ten years after the death of Sir Joshua, was
an original, and to a great degree, self-taught artist. His style of
design is simple, his coloring warm and rich, but his affectation of
breadth has frequently induced a neglect of form, with often too vague
a generalization of sentiment. The great failing of Romney--one common,
indeed, to all men, in every profession, who have not been regularly
educated--is something defective in his general management, so that
the whole is rendered imperfect or displeasing from some peculiarity
or immethodical management, which early instruction would easily have
enabled him to avoid.
Opie has carried the principles of Sir Joshua to the very verge of
coarse and indistinct, from which the force of his own genius has
scarcely secured him. His portraits have frequently not more detail
than a sketch, yet are usually heavy and laboured in effect. Though
undoubtedly possessing high talent, Opie's success was owing not less
to the circumstances under which he rose, than to intrinsic merit.
He is, however, a very unequal artist, sometimes attaining great
beauty, at others falling beneath himself, which renders it difficult
to pronounce generally; besides, he has several manners, though in
each, the large and unfinished style predominates. Great allowance
is, however, undoubtedly to be made for him, whose first portrait was
painted by stealth, in moments snatched from the menial occupation of
carrying offals to the house-dog of his first employer. Such was his
employment as house-boy in the family of Walcott, the portrait being
that of the butcher, and which there is reason to believe was painted
in the shambles. No where in the history of mind, do we find such
amazing instances of the power of talent over circumstances as in art.
From painting likenesses at seven and sixpence in Truro, 'the Cornish
boy' came to London with thirty guineas in his pocket, and, with hardly
any instructions, save advice from Sir Joshua, made his way to fame
and fortune. Next to Sir Joshua, of the contemporary painters, Romney
and Opie supported undoubtedly the first rank, though many others, of
considerable merit, would deserve notice in a more extended narrative.
We shall therefore now direct attention to Historical and Landscape
Painting.
The excellence and amazing number of its portraits, has occasioned
the merits of the English school of history to appear less than they
really are. Indeed, where portraiture is practised on the principles
of grand art, as in this country, there must be excellence in all the
departments of the profession; and the opinion so prevalent, that
portrait is an inferior branch, has seriously prejudiced both divisions
of the art. It has withdrawn the historical painter, as, by way of
exclusive eminence, he was solicitous to be named, from the careful
study of nature in her individual modes and forms--the only true source
of ideal perfection; while it has damped the precious enthusiasm which
arises from the consciousness of dignified pursuit, by placing the
portrait painter in the degraded rank of a secondary artizan.
The more elevated the standard to which, in any study, the mind is
taught to aspire, the nobler will be the fruits of exertion; but where
less is expected, less will be accomplished. The portrait painter,
feeling that he would not receive credit for beauties of which his art
was deemed incapable, has been too ready to take the public at their
own word, and to remain contented with the inferiority they were thus
willing to accept. But the very reverse of all this is the truth.
No essential principle of high art may not be exhibited, and indeed
every one is to be found, in a first-rate portrait. Such works, too,
are equally, perhaps even more rare, and by the same authors, as the
masterpieces of historical composition. Hence we are conducted to
our first premise as a conclusion, that where portraiture has been
successfully practised, history must also flourish. A reference to the
annals of the latter will prove this to be the case among ourselves, at
least to a greater extent than is the general impression.
Even from the time of Henry VIII. we find historical painting in
repute; some of Holbein's works from history remain even more admirable
than his portraits. In the reign of Mary, Antonio More was eminent,
though against his inclination employed chiefly in portraiture.
Elizabeth, in like manner, patronized Zucchero; and the portraits
of Hilliard, one of the first English artists of merit, are in some
instances, though of small size, almost historical, as Donne bears
witness:
----Or hand or eye
By Hilliard drawn is worth a history
By a worse painter made.
The labours of Rubens and Vandyke under Charles, especially the
Banqueting-House at Whitehall by the former, continue to show that
history was not unpatronized. Still no English school can properly
be said to have been formed till the eighteenth century, when Sir
James Thornhill, in the reign of Queen Anne, was appointed historical
painter to the court. The works of this artist are numerous, and we
are disposed to rank them higher than they are commonly appreciated.
Those in St. Paul's and at Greenwich are well known; and though it
be questionable whether they could have been much better executed by
any other artist at that time in Europe, yet so miserable was the
encouragement, that Thornhill is reported to have been paid for some of
these labours by the square yard for two pounds.
Thus the annals of historical painting in England furnish little to
reward research or to interest the reader, previous to the appearance
of Hogarth, born 1698, in the Old Bailey, the son of a schoolmaster,
and died in 1764, being the first native artist who proved that there
existed subject in our manners, and talent in our land, for other
painting than portrait. Hogarth claims the highest praise of genius;
he was an original inventor; nay, more, he both struck out a new path,
and qualified himself to walk therein. From an engraver of armorial
bearings and ornaments on plate, he taught himself to be a painter.
The aim of no artist has been more mistaken, at least estimated on
principles more opposed, than that of Hogarth. Some have ranked him
as a satirical, some as a grotesque painter, while others have not
scrupled to rate him merely as a caricaturist. If, however, historical
painting consist in the delineation of manners, in the expression
of sentiment, and in striking representation of natural character,
few names in art will stand higher than Hogarth; while, beyond most
painters, he has extended the bounds of the art, in the alliance which
he has formed between the imagination and the heart,--between amusing
of the external sense and the profound reflections thus awakened. His
pictures are not merely passing scenes, or momentary actions; they
are profound moral lessons. It is this which raises him far above the
Dutch or Flemish school, with whose general imitation of national
customs, his firm and individual grasp of the morality of common life
has with great injustice been confounded. From the lofty abstractions
of the Italian masters, again, he differs widely, but not, as usually
supposed, because he represents low, but because he paints real life.
In this respect, the observation of Walpole, that, 'Hogarth's place
is between the Italians, whom we may consider as epic poets and
tragedians; and the Flemish painters, who are as writers of farce,
and editors of burlesque nature,' is founded in utter mistake, or
misrepresentation; he never forgave the artist's independence of his
_connoisseurship_. Hogarth's place is not between, but above and apart.
He 'holds the mirror up to nature,' not to exhibit graphic powers of
mimicry, not to depict the sublimity of mind, or the idealities of
form, but 'to show Vice her own features,' man 'his own image.'
His predecessor thus standing alone, Sir Joshua Reynolds claims to
be the founder of English historical painting in its recognised
acceptation. Indeed, his principles already, or hereafter to be
explained, have been followed by all succeeding artists, or have
influenced practice in history no less than in portraiture. And what
this influence accomplished in the latter, it certainly has also
effected in the former department, with this difference indeed, that in
the first it created, in the second improved, giving to each a large,
bold, and energetic manner, which was at least a step greatly in
advance, a most respectable approximation, in the path of excellence.
But this, as a resting-place, was far less perfect in history than in
any other branch of the art, since the style was adverse to attainment
in many of those qualities justly deemed essential. Hence is Sir Joshua
not only inferior to himself in history, but his example has, on the
whole, retarded the advancement of the study amongst us. Successors
have either too often rested in imitation of his manner, or they have
carried his principles forward, in which case they are unfortunately
calculated to lead farther from the genuine sources of pure taste and
substantial composition.
The masterpieces of Sir Joshua are his representations of children;
and in many historical, or rather fancy pieces of this character, as
the Infant Hercules, the Strawberry Girl, Puck, Cupid and Psyche,
Hope nursing Love, his labours are truly admirable. Such subjects
were just fitted to his bland and flowing pencil, while they suffered
nothing from undecided form and contours feebly expressed. The arch,
yet simple expression, the lovely, yet almost grotesque individuality
of character, in the heads of his children, the execution, and even
coloring--all is equally natural and exquisite. They are among the
most perfect gems of art. Only second to the similar productions of
Coreggio, they are superior to everything done on the Continent since
the days of Rubens and Fiammingo. It appears singular, then, on the
first view of the matter, that Sir Joshua should have so frequently
failed, and on the whole left so few good female portraits, while so
nearly attaining perfection in subjects of allied grace and loveliness.
But it is to be remarked, a style of handling broad and facile, yet
peculiarly soft and fleshy, which in these instances produces effects
so beautiful without much finish, is not equally adapted to express the
equally soft, yet decided forms and delicate movements of the female
countenance. Besides, Sir Joshua had peculiar notions of grace, which
affected ease and nature, rather than actually represented the easy
and the natural. He wished to avoid stiffness, and has often lapsed
into the contrasted and theatrical. His picture of Mrs Siddons, as the
Tragic Muse, however, is pronounced by Sir Thomas Lawrence to be 'a
work of the highest epic character, and indisputably the finest female
portrait in the world.' How far, however, either that, or the no less
celebrated picture of Garrick, can rank with historical portraitures,
at least considered with those of Raphael and Titian, may justly be
questioned. Of the more elevated and serious historical compositions
of Sir Joshua, the Death of Cardinal Beaufort is the grandest, the
best drawn, and the most powerfully colored; the only defect is the
expression, which is too material; Ugolino is a failure, if intended
for the fierce inmate of Dante's 'tower of famine:' these want dignity
and truth of character. The designs at Oxford are fine; the Nativity,
in imitation of the famous Notte of Coreggio, is a splendid performance.
Sir Joshua Reynolds, then, owed more to taste and application than to
genius; more to incessant practice than to science; he derived all
from his predecessors which he has bequeathed to posterity; but if, in
making the transmission, he added no new nor essential principle of
imitation or invention, he established in high practical excellence the
arts of his country.
Among those whose labours in historical painting connect the former
with the present school, Barry stands foremost in time as in merit. The
performances of this artist exhibit, in a very striking manner, the
justice of some of the preceding remarks. They are destitute of the
most essential and touching graces of imitative representation; they
want, in short, all that portraiture, which their author affected to
despise, could have given--life, nature, truth, and sweetness, without
this absence being compensated by any extraordinary beauties of what is
termed higher art. The drawing, though often good, is also not seldom
defective; while the coloring is uniformly harsh, and the management
without force. Imagination and invention run riot without due control
of the judgment; not that the fervor of poetic enthusiasm snatches
a too daring grace, but rather the unpruned fertility of conception
frequently unites the most glaring incongruities. Yet Barry is far from
being without power or science; his great deficiences were a chaste
taste and mellowed practice. No man better understood, or has written
more learnedly, on the abstract principles of composition; indeed, he
has been accused of devoting too much attention to the mere theory and
literature of his art, while he neglected Raphael's golden application
of Cicero's maxim--'Nulla dies sine linea.' There existed, however, in
the character of Barry, notwithstanding a rudeness of exterior, and
ignorance or disregard of the proprieties of polished life, a moral
grandeur of unshaken resolve, of enduring enthusiasm, of stern and
uncompromising self-denial, in his professional career, which invest
his memory with no common interest. The man who could undertake, alone,
and with no certain prospect of remuneration, one of the greatest
works which has been attempted within two centuries--and that, too,
with only sixteen shillings in his pocket; who, during seven years of
struggle, prosecuted that work to a completion, often thus labouring
all day, while he sat up the greater part of the night finishing some
sketch for the publishers, in order to make provision for the passing
hour;--such a man presents claims to admiration of higher dignity than
even those of genius. The great work undertaken and finished amid
these difficulties, is the series of six pictures, of the size of life,
representing the progress of civilization, in the Hall of the Society
of Arts; and it reflects the highest honor on that useful institution,
that its gratuitous reward enabled the artist to enjoy his only
permanent, though small income, of about £60 yearly. That such a member
should have been ejected from the Royal Academy of Great Britain, in
which also he held the Chair of Painting, must be considered as a
common calamity both to that body and to himself: to him it certainly
was, for the degradation embittered the enjoyment, and very seriously
impaired the means, of existence. Barry died in 1806, having been born
at Cork in 1741; rising from a sailor boy, chalking his rude fancies on
the deck of his father's coaster, self-taught, to be the painter now
described--the learned writer on his art--the friend of Samuel Johnson
and of Edmund Burke.
Many other names of minor reputation might be mentioned,--as Hayman,
Mortimer, &c.,--who occasionally with portrait, painted history, but
to no extent. This branch of the art, except for the labours of the
late Sir Benjamin West, at the close of the last century, would almost
have been without a representative amongst us. From that period, very
great progress in all the departments has been realized. Still, to
the ancient grandeur of the historic style this venerable artist has
continued to make the nearest approaches. To the New World, succeeding
ages will stand indebted for West; but for the painter, the arts are
under obligation to England. It is singular, too, that the advice and
services of a Scotsman were the immediate inducements which prevented
this ornament of two worlds from returning to his native country, in
which case his talents would most probably have been lost to both.
The state of patronage and of taste could not have afforded to him
the means nor the incitement of rising beyond portrait, in which we
do not think West would ever have excelled. Two incidents in his lot
reflect equal honor on his native and his adopted country,--like many
other moral analogies, evincing the common possession of a congenial
liberality and kindliness of spirit, which ought, and will, we trust,
ever mingle its best affections in reciprocally advantageous and
amicable intercourse. In the land of his birth, the opening genius of
West was cheered with a truly tender solicitude; his future advance and
his future fame seemed less the care of individual friends than of his
countrymen. And, from 1763, on first setting foot in Britain, during
the long course of his life, he received more encouragement from her
sovereign and her people than has ever been accorded to any historical
painter, native or foreign; this, too, in the midst of an unhappy, and,
as then considered, rebellious contest.
When we consider the labours of Sir Benjamin, in reference either to
English or Continental art, they have, in both points of view, a high,
but not an equal rank. In the former, they are unrivalled in magnitude,
in progressive improvement, and in the excellence of the principles
upon which they are composed. In comparing them with foreign art, their
merits are not so absolute; but here we shall use the words of the
present accomplished president. 'At an era,' says Sir Thomas Lawrence,
'when historical painting was at the lowest ebb, (with the few
exceptions which the claims of the beautiful and the eminent permitted
to the pencil of Sir Joshua), Mr West, sustained by the munificent
patronage of his late Majesty, produced a series of compositions, from
sacred and profane history, profoundly studied, and executed with
the most facile power, which not only were superior to any former
productions of English art, but, far surpassing contemporary merit on
the Continent, were unequalled at any period below the schools of the
Caracci.'
In support of this high encomium, Sir Thomas instances 'the Return of
Regulus to Carthage,' and 'the Shipwreck of St Paul,'--pictures which
amply testify the superiority we have assumed to exist in the living
arts of Britain. These, however, are by no means the only master-pieces
of West, whose great glory it is to have proceeded on a system which
admits of indefinite, and which tends to certain improvement. Even
to his eightieth year he was employed in new exercises, not inferior
to, or in some respects excelling, the enterprises of his vigorous
strength. The cause of his late eminence bears strongly upon the
whole tenor of our remarks in treating of Sculpture, and will best be
explained in his own words. In 1811, writing to Lord Elgin, the artist
thus expresses himself: 'in the last production of my pencil, which I
now invite your lordship to see, it has been my ambition, though at a
very advanced period of life, to introduce those refinements in art,
which are so distinguished in your collection,'--(the Phidian Marbles
of the Parthenon.) 'Had I been blest with seeing and studying these
emanations of genius at an earlier period of life, the sentiment of
their pre-eminence would have animated all my exertions; and more
character, and expression, and life, would have pervaded my humble
attempts at historical painting.'
It is the soundness and regularity of principle expressed in, or whose
existence is clearly deducible from, the entertaining of such views,
that constitutes the great merit of the pictures of West. It is these
qualities, too, which impart to them their utility and high value
as a school of art. As far as they go, they may safely and without
reserve be recommended to the student. Here he will not be led
astray by brilliant though false theory, nor degraded into mannerism
by peculiar though striking modes, which can please only from their
peculiarity, and when they exhibit the result of native invention.
All here is placed upon the broad highway of universal art; all is
equable, uniformly correct, firm, and respectable; no compensation of
error by an occasional loftiness of flight: the stream of invention
sweeps onward calmly and majestically; if not conducting to scenes
of the most stupendous sublimity, flowing at least without cataract
or whirlpool, through a magnificence which is grand from its very
regularity and usefulness. In these works we discover this, perhaps
singular character, that in them we detect many wants, but no defects.
The composition, grouping and symmetry, are unexceptionable; the
drawing is particularly fine, yet without the statue-like design of
the French school. But to animate this beautiful framework of art--to
inspire these moulds of form and emblems of intelligence with action
and sentiment--the touch of that genius, to whose final aims external
science furnishes the bare instrument, is wanting. The representation
is chaste and beautiful, but it is too clearly a representation; there
wants the almost o'er-informing mind, the freshness of natural feeling,
which give to art its truest, only mastery over the human spirit.
The surpassing softness and variety of our island scenery seems to have
inspired a corresponding beauty and vigorous diversity into our school
of Landscape. Rural imagery may almost be said to mingle in every dream
of English enjoyment. Hence this department of our arts has always been
popular, and, as a necessary consequence of encouragement, has been
cultivated with ardor and success. Only, indeed, when English artists
have forsaken English nature, or have attempted to unite classical
allegory with heroic landscape, as it is called, have they failed
in this delightful branch. From an early period in the eighteenth
century, the school may be said to commence, and thenceforward may
justly be said to have remained unrivalled by contemporary merit in
any other country. One department indeed of landscape, and that too a
very charming one, namely water-color, has been, by British artists,
not only invented, it may be said, but raised into a most beautiful
and useful branch of dignified art. Nor let landscape be deemed, as
too frequently, an inferior department: it certainly requires not the
highest genius, yet so many qualities must unite in the same individual
before he can attain excellence here, that Sir Joshua Reynolds used to
say, 'there is more likely to be another Raphael than a second Claude.'
Yet more than one native has approached the eminence of the latter.
Commencing with the last century, the following arrangement will
include the most esteemed landscape painters of this country.
_First Class._ Wilson, born 1714, died 1782, the first of English
landscape painters; aerial perspective very fine, not surpassed by
Claude; great fidelity in representing natural effects; coloring,
especially in his later pictures, somewhat dry; objects rather
indeterminate. Gainsborough, 1727-88; a painter of universal but
irregular genius; in his landscapes the most decidedly English of all
our great masters. Wright, 1734-97; exquisite finishing and wonderful
effects of light, especially in his Eruption of Vesuvius, rising and
setting sun; touch delicate; coloring fresh and transparent. Morland,
1764-1806; it is not easy exactly to class this artist, as his
landscapes are generally accessory only to his figures, while these
latter are hardly of sufficient interest without such accessories.
Whatever Morland accomplished was rather by the force of genius, than
through study or knowledge, with the exception of some of his pictures
painted about 1789-95. His great excellences lie in the unaffected
exhibition of broad and vulgar character, and in the representation of
domestic animals, pigs, sheep, donkeys, and worn-out horses; for as he
drew merely by force of eye, his ignorance of anatomy prevented him
from attempting that 'noble creature' in perfect condition. Moreland's
back-grounds and distances are often truly admirable.
_Second Class._ Wooton, died 1765, excellent in field-sports, horses,
dogs, and landscape; but his touch and coloring are indistinct.
Lambert, 1710-1765, chaste and harmonious coloring, with a slight
degree of monotony; distances sweet; followed G. Poussin, whose
occasional faults in harshness and black shadow he has avoided, though
left far behind in sublimity and variety of composition. Barrett, from
the sister isle, self-instructed, yet none of our native school has
more happily caught the characteristic features of English landscape:
his touch, though defective in detail, is rapid, and forcibly
distinguishes, at least by their general forms, the different elements
of natural composition. Marlow, concerning whom there are no exact
dates, and Scott, born in 1710, died in 1772,--both excel in marine
views; the latter is scarcely surpassed by the best masters of the
Flemish school, and the finishing of the former is particularly happy,
though he fails in trees, when attempting inland scenery.
_Third Class._ This division includes many landscape painters of
various, some, indeed, of very high merit, whose labours extend from
the commencement of the eighteenth to an early part of the present
century. Of this class the principal names are the following: Smiths
of Chichester, especially John and George, and Smith of Derby;--it
is singular that all three were self-taught. The two Gilpins of
Carlisle; the elder by pictures of horses and wild animals, and the
Rev. William Gilpin, by his writings and landscapes, have added much
to this department. Sandby of Nottingham, a most exquisite landscape
draughtsman, as also were Cozens and Hearne, whose paintings have great
value in fidelity, and whose drawings contributed not a little towards
forming the present school of water-color painting. Tull imitated too
closely the Dutch masters. Wheately excelled both in minor history and
landscape, especially in rural subjects. Dean, a native of Ireland,
some good Italian landscapes. Dayes, Devis, of which names there were
three artists more or less connected with landscape. Two Pethers of
Chichester; William, both a painter and engraver of landscapes; Abraham
excelled in moonlight scenes, exercising the pencil with remarkable
sweetness, luxuriance, and transparency of coloring; he died in 1812.
Of all the landscape painters of the British school, Wilson and
Gainsborough are undoubtedly the first; nor is it easy to discriminate
between them. Wilson excels in splendour of effect and magnificence
of composition; but Gainsborough is more natural and pleasing, at
least in his early pictures. Latterly he introduced the notion of
an ideal beauty in rural nature, which has too frequently been
imitated. Both possessed genius in no ordinary degree; but though to
the first has been conceded the higher walk as it has been called,
because imaginative, to the latter belongs that temperament of mind
more essential, we think, to the landscape painter, which powerfully
conceives the objects of contemplation, and places them in vivid
reality before the eye and the fancy. Each has failed in the grand
difficulty of landscape--the proper introduction of figures; and in
the besetting defect of the English school--slovenly execution, and
want of detail. Here the remarks are not confined to these artists
alone, but express rather the general character. Among the masters
of historical painting, as Titian, Caracci, N. Poussin, Rubens, who
excelled in landscape incidentally, as it were, the scene is always
subordinate to the figures. This is generally the case, too, with those
who more directly professed historical or heroic landscape, as Salvator
Rosa, Albano, Franceso Bolonese, with many of the most celebrated
Flemish and Dutch artists. In this case the landscape is introduced
either to exhibit some scenic propriety, or as a mere embellishment of
the historical design. The great difficulty here lies in maintaining
subordination and unity, yet preserving the interest, of the respective
parts of the composition. In these beauties Claude completely fails,
as do also Wilson, and most English artists who have made the attempt.
The landscape overwhelms the story, while the story generally
discredits the landscape; or, the attention being equally divided
between both, the interest of each is weakened. This is sometimes the
case with Gainsborough, often with Morland, and still more frequently
in the Dutch school. In landscape painting, properly considered, the
figures should always be subordinate, forming merely a part of, and
corresponding with, the scene; most especially when that scene is from
nature, and with her beauties ever fresh renewed, inexhaustible--there
is something almost unhallowed in thrusting upon us the inferior, and
mannered and crowded compositions of mere imagination. Nor is it a
matter merely of taste; everything which has a tendency to lead the
mind and the imagination of the artist away from nature, tends also
to the deterioration of art. Hence the absurdities so visible in the
history of this particular branch--Nature represented as if seen
through a Claude-Lorraine-glass--skies gleaming and glaring under the
appellations of sunrises and sunsets,--buildings of fantastic form and
uninhabitable dimensions, under the name of Italian ruins--foliage and
fields in every variety of tint, save the soft, quiet, unobtrusive hues
of leaves and herbage. Surely of all painters, the British landscape
painter is least excusable in deviating from the reality around him,
which presents every element of his art in its best perfection, from
the softest beauty in a freshness of dewy verdure elsewhere unknown,
to the wildest sublimity of lake, mountain, wood, and torrent!
Even in the gorgeous magnificence of our changing sky, there is a
gloriousness, and grandeur of effect, which we have never seen even
in Italy. If, again, he seek for objects of moral interest, there is
the feudal fortalice--the cloistered abbey--the storied minster--the
gothic castle, with all their rich associations;--there the mouldering
monument--the fields of conflict, the scenes of tradition, of poetry,
and of love--and, far amid the wild upland, gleams the mossy stone, and
bends the solitary ash, over the martyr of his faith. For such as these
the imagination can give us no equivalents.
Coarse and undetailed, though talented, execution, has overspread every
department of the British school. In the present branch, however,
this manner seems especially misplaced. A landscape painting, more
than any other, is viewed merely as a work of art. Consequently, the
mind feels dissatisfied in the absence of those qualities of finished
execution and delicate management, which constitute the essential value
and character of art as such. The imitation requires not only to be
general; but, to give entire pleasure, we must be enabled also to trace
with ease minute and varied resemblances. The work thus affords almost
the endless gratification of nature's own productions. But we shall not
rest the objections to loose practice on grounds that might be disputed
as a matter of dubious taste. The evil is not stayed in the effect,
but endangers the very existence of its own rapid creations. Where the
study is general effect only, the next object must necessarily be to
produce that effect speedily: indeed, such a style completely excludes
the care requisite to proper elaboration and transparent coloring.
Hence tints are used, which soonest attain to the general end in view;
but such tints are exactly those which fade the soonest. Hence the
blackness, rawness, and want of harmony, in so many English landscapes.
Hence, also, the clear and silvery tones which seem indestructible in
the exquisitely finished landscapes of Claude, and the most eminent
foreign artists. Generally, indeed, the best masters in this branch
are decidedly those who have finished with due care. Of the works of
our own school, those are also the most excellent as essays of genius,
which are the most judiciously laboured as performances of art.
We may now turn our attention for a little to the past state of
painting in Scotland. During the eighteenth century, though there can
hardly be said to have existed any separate style, so as to merit the
distinction of a school apart from that of the empire generally, yet
several very respectable Scottish artists are found to have practised
both in London and Edinburgh. In the latter capital, towards the close
of that period, a school gradually arose, which, considering the
resources of the country, the opportunities of improvement, the means
of patronage, and latterly, the merits of its individual masters,
especially of its head, the late Sir Henry Raeburn, displays an
inferiority certainly not greater than might reasonably be expected.
Or we will go farther; when the invigorating influence of royal
countenance and protection upon the fine arts, the superior wealth and
intelligence congregated in the seat of legislature, are viewed--all
concurring to foster and advance art in the capital; and when, on the
other hand, we reflect, not merely on the absence of these advantages,
but on the positive detriment of a non-resident nobility, whose
presence might in some measure supply other deficiencies, it must
be matter of astonishment, not that Scottish painting is inferior,
but that it is so nearly equal, to that of London. But there needs
not an appeal merely to relative excellence; the absolute merits of
some of the masters now in Edinburgh, or belonging to Scotland, are
not surpassed in their respective departments. It is far from the
intention, in these remarks, to institute any invidious distinctions,
but to state fairly the claims of Edinburgh, and that the talents of
her artists, and the zeal of her people, place her, not among the
secondary cities, but among the capitals of Europe. It ought also
to be remembered, that in no instance are the arts of any kingdom
more indebted, than those of the British Empire to Scotsmen. Not to
mention the exertions of Gavin Hamilton, himself an artist, whose
discoveries and knowledge of antique art materially assisted the
general restoration of taste--and we do know that, in this light,
Canova both regarded and ever spoke of him with gratitude--there are
two cases more immediate to the present purpose. Sir William Hamilton,
at his own risk and expense, though afterwards, as was only proper, in
part repaid, made the most splendid collection of ancient vases now in
the world, excepting that of Naples. These are in the British Museum,
and have not merely refined taste, but have most materially improved
the useful arts of the country. The Earl of Elgin's inestimable
treasures of ancient sculpture have enriched Britain with examples of
unrivalled excellence, and which have already mainly contributed to
the present superiority of her genius in art. These precious remains,
with indefatigable assiduity, at a ruinous and hopeless expenditure,
collected--an enterprise in which kings had formerly failed--he gave
to his country on repayment of not nearly his own outlay, though we
have reason to know, through the late venerable Denon, that the former
government of France offered to the possessor his own terms. The
meritorious act of removal indeed has, with schoolboy enthusiasm, and
maudlin sentimentality, been deplored as a despoiling of a classic
monument. How utterly absurd is this, to lament that the time-honored
labours of ancient Greece did not sink for ever beneath the violence of
the despot and the ignorance of the slave, instead of being, as now, in
the midst of an admiring and enlightened people, shedding abroad their
beauty and their intelligence, again to revive in our living arts!
Jamieson, the first of whom there is interesting notice, and one of
the most accomplished of the Scottish artists, died in Edinburgh 1644.
His labours, with those of the succeeding century, are connected by
works and names, as Norrie, elder and younger, now fast hastening, or
already, with no injustice, consigned, to oblivion. The times, agitated
as they were by political and religious dissensions, offered little
encouragement to the arts of elegance and peace. Throughout the early
part of the eighteenth century, however, to the era even of Sir Joshua
Reynolds, individual artists, natives of Scotland, may be mentioned,
of attainments and practice superior to any in the history of painting
during the same period in England. The cause of this is evident in the
more accomplished professional education which the former received.
The intercourse between Scotland and Italy, owing to various political
causes, and to the great number of Scotch residents in the latter
country, was then very close; hence, after attaining all that home
instruction could give, hardly a single Scottish artist of eminence can
be mentioned, who had not, by an abode in Italy, finished his studies
where alone the highest and truest knowledge can be obtained. It would
be needless to combat the opinion, that such a process is unnecessary.
No artist, with a mind open to the real beauties of his profession,
can visit Italy without reaping the most solid advantages, otherwise
unattainable. In this respect, too, the Scottish artist seemed to enjoy
a security in the very poverty of native art; for if he saw little to
excite ambition, enough remained to direct study, without taste being
influenced by the popularity of false modes. Hence it is not more than
justice to state, that in the works of the following names, there is to
be found a more uniformly pure and dignified style, if not of higher
excellence, than generally distinguishes contemporary art.
Ramsay, son of the poet, inherited no small portion of his father's
love of nature, and power of unaffected delineation of her simplicity.
His portraits present, in these respects, a charm quite refreshing,
when compared with the staring mannerism of the Anglo-German school,
founded by Lely and Kneller. Ramsay remained three years in Italy, from
1736. Of his accomplishments, Dr Johnson has left this testimony: 'you
will not find a man in whose conversation there is more instruction,
more information, and more elegance, than in Ramsay's.' Runciman, an
excellent draughtsman and pleasing colorist, born in 1736. Several
historical paintings, executed at Rome and in Edinburgh, evince very
considerable powers both of composition and practice. He was for a
length of time a very efficient teacher in the Scottish Academy of
design. More, the Scottish Claude, as he is sometimes termed, whom
also he selected as his model. Without, however, reaching the depth
of coloring and beautiful nature which are found in that admirable
painter, there are many stations which may be filled with honor. In
one of these More is to be placed, while his figures have very great
propriety both of selection and in the manner of introducing them.
His subjects are usually Italian scenes, in the neighborhood of Rome,
where he chiefly resided, and died in 1795. To these, other names of
considerable merit might be added, as Cochrane, Sir George Chalmers;
Barker, too, the inventor of panoramic painting, was, we believe, a
native of Scotland, at least, the first work of the kind ever exhibited
was in Edinburgh. Martin, who visited Italy in company with Ramsay,
practised portrait painting with considerable reputation, till he
retired from his professional labours on the increasing and merited
popularity of his distinguished contemporary, under whom the Scottish
school assumes a dignified importance, heretofore denied to its
comparatively isolated endeavors.
Sir Henry Raeburn, the representative of painting in Scotland from
1787 to his death 1823, was born in a suburb of the capital, 1756. Of
all the distinguished artists who have attained excellence, without
any peculiarity of manner, perhaps Raeburn owes least to others and
most to himself in the acquisition of his art. Originally apprenticed
to a goldsmith, it does not appear that he ever received a single
lesson from a master even in the ordinary accomplishments of drawing.
From painting miniatures with success during his apprenticeship,
he turned his attention to large portraiture in oil, with no other
assistance than merely copying a few portraits could give. Even these
early productions must have possessed merit, since they obtained the
approbation of Sir Joshua, by whose advice he visited Italy, remaining
abroad two years, thus completing the round of his professional studies.
The character of Sir Henry's art participates strongly in that which
has prevailed in British portraiture during the last fifty years. It
in fact presents the very ideal of that style whose aim is to speak
most powerfully to the imagination, through the slenderest means
addressed to the eye. His pictures afford the finest, we might say the
most wonderful examples, how far detail may be sacrificed, and yet
general effect and striking resemblance be retained. In this respect
he has carried the principles of Sir Joshua to the very verge of
indistinctness; but what is given has such vigorous meaning, that in
the power of the leading forms, the fancy discovers an intelligence,
which, overspreading the whole composition, and bursting from each
master line, guides the mind triumphantly over the blank masses
often composing the interior. If, then, to produce strong effect, by
whatsoever means, be the object of art, Raeburn has succeeded beyond
most painters; but if true excellence consist in blending into one
harmonious whole the delicate markings and grand contours of nature,
he has failed; if pictures are to be viewed only on the walls of a
gallery, at a distance from the spectator, his portraits correspond
with this arrangement; but if the eye loves to rest upon features
dear to the affections, or prized by the understanding--if delight to
trace the shades of feeling and the lines of thought--if these wishes
can be gratified, and are indulged in the masterpieces of art, then
does Raeburn, and not only he, but the great majority of the English
school, rest far behind. The error, in his individual instance, as
in most others, lies in the system. To this, also, which recognizes
mere effect and general resemblance as all, is to be ascribed his
frequent disregard of correct outline, his black and square shadows,
and coarseness of coloring. Yet Raeburn saw nature with the eye of true
genius, for he caught her essential forms, and often her most effective
graces; but either his industry disdained, or his art was unable, to
add the rest.
The leading events and principal masters in the past history of British
art have now been rapidly surveyed. Upon the living ornaments of the
school, individually, it scarcely falls under the province of the
annalist, nor is it his intention, to dwell. It is not, that matter of
still farther congratulation would not thus be afforded in the evidence
of national progress; for at no time has the English school occupied a
more elevated position, whether compared with others, or with itself.
But, estimated thus highly and thus truly, the general eminence has
still gradations, which, in entering upon detail, it would be incumbent
to point out. The responsibility of this duty it is the wish to
avoid. An opinion ventured upon works left by their authors to the
guardianship of posterity, may be canvassed in its truth or falsehood
as an abstract criticism, without either wounding the feelings of the
living, or, it may be, injuring the value of professional labour.
From judicious observations when called for, an artist has to fear
nothing, and may profit much; but it should ever be remembered, that
the professional merit must be humble indeed, which does not render
the possessor superior to his self-constituted judge, who is himself
not an artist. A sound judgment in literature, or an acquaintance with
the general principles upon which all works of taste must necessarily
be conducted, are not sufficient, without practical skill, truly to
estimate a production of art. The poet employs vehicles of thought and
signs of expression familiar to all as the use of reason; the means and
instruments of the painter constitute in their management a peculiar
science, in which excellence or defect is less appreciable by natural
or untrained observation. Neglect of these principles of criticism has
exposed to groundless censure, and to as injurious praise, both arts
and artists.
When it is stated, that the modern English school surpasses every other
in Europe, the inference is not to be assumed, that painting elsewhere
has retrograded, but that, with us, art has advanced beyond the general
improvement. During the present century, painting in France has been
superior to any thing produced in that country since the age of Louis
XIV., or, perhaps, it has in this space attained a greater glory. Italy
has more than one master, who, in purity of style at least, excels any
predecessor within the last fifty years. Now, if the representatives
of these respective schools be compared, or if the universal works of
each be taken as the criterion of merit, in either case it would not
be difficult to show, that separately, or as a school, the British
artists of the present age have made the greatest attainments towards
excellence.
But compared with ourselves, has our course also been progressive? The
affirmative here it is more difficult to prove. Reynolds, Hogarth,
Wilson, Gainsborough, all contemporaries, certainly present a rare
combination of genius and art. But besides these stars of the first
magnitude, every other 'lesser light' twinkles with diminished ray.
Now, as respects the general diffusion of most respectable eminence,
this is far from being the case at present. In every branch, more than
one master of high talent might be mentioned. Again, considering the
representatives of each department in the present and in the former
age, there can be no hesitation, everything considered, in giving the
preference to our contemporaries. A remark of the late learned Fuseli
is here quite to the purpose, while in itself perfectly correct: 'The
works of Sir Joshua Reynolds are unequal, many of them are indifferent,
though some cannot be surpassed; but, on the other hand, even the most
inferior picture from the pencil of Sir Thomas Lawrence is excellent.'
It is this extended and uniform excellence, as has appeared throughout
the whole course of these investigations, which constitutes not only
individual superiority, but which tends, most directly and most surely,
to the exaltation of art.
Hogarth, again, stands alone rather in the peculiar dramatic character
of his performances, than in their beauty or science, as bearing upon
the promotion of universal improvement, or even as individual pieces
of painting. His pictures, also, with few exceptions, are rather
isolated representations than general exhibitions of manners; they are
scenes displaying the singularities, more than the leading actions
and feelings of life. Their effect is broad and true, and the moral
powerful; but both are circumscribed by times, and by partial divisions
among mankind. Wilkie, whose style of composition most nearly resembles
Hogarth's, and with whom, therefore, he is to be compared, while he
preserves all the force of individual character and delineation of
living nature, has extended a far more comprehensive grasp of mind
over the moralities of his subject. He has brought within the pencil's
magic sway, and fixed there in permanent reality, the sorrows and the
joys, the hopes, fears, and attachments, the occupations, customs,
habits, and even amusements, of a whole unchanging class of mankind.
This may appear to have been before accomplished, both in the English
and Flemish schools. But here lies the distinction: Hogarth represents
general ideas by particular signs. His forms and his expressions
are individual modifications of the limited society to which they
belong. The conceptions of Wilkie are the idealisms of his models.
Each figure is not only pregnant with individuality of character and
life, but is the true representative of the class whose constituent
it is. Each expression, though generally but the index of humble
feeling, sends abroad into the heart of every spectator its artless
appeal. He has thus, in fact, applied the generalizations of higher
art to the interests of common life, yet preserving its simplicity,
its humbleness, and reality. The Dutch painters, again, have painted
vulgar instead of common nature; nor, in the complete range of their
school, is there once an example of that delightful sentiment, which
our countryman has so successfully cast over his most lowly scenes,
and by which he has redeemed them from every approach to vulgarity,
without falling, as Gainsborough has sometimes done, into insipidity or
mannerism.
In landscape, Turner has extended the boundaries of his art by the
invention of prismatic colors, and by his novel applications of them.
He is therefore decidedly a more original artist than Wilson, whose
best works are those composed in imitation of Claude. But Turner by no
means stands so much alone as did the masters of the former age; names
in both divisions of Britain might be mentioned his equals in more than
one respect. In the historical department, again, if we admit the late
President's works, there can be no comparison between these and any
former labours of the English school. But in all the possible varieties
of historical composition, there are artists of great excellence either
now living, or who have been taken from us within these few years; as
Haydn, Martin, Allan of Edinburgh, Heapy, Collings, Fuseli, Harlow,
Stothard, Cooper, Landseer, with others. In portraiture, Jackson,
Phillips, and others, show, that even high excellence is not so
confined as in the time of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Lawrence is indeed the
first artist in Europe, but he is ably supported. A little anecdote
may here give some idea of the powers of Sir Thomas's pencil. On
visiting, one evening, the apartment in the Vatican where his splendid
portrait of George IV., in coronation robes, was then exhibited, we
were much struck with the fixed attention immediately directed to it by
an individual who had just entered. A deeper interest was excited on
perceiving the stranger to be a celebrated native artist. Continuing
for some time in total abstraction, during which the workings of his
countenance clearly indicated admiration or astonishment, and, we
thought, disappointment, with a sudden unconscious gesticulation, he
exclaimed aloud, 'Dio--il tramontane!' as if saying 'Heavens! can that
have been painted beyond the Alps!' and abruptly hurried away.
From the preceding remarks, and the names now enumerated, who are
mentioned without any reference to comparative rank or merit as to
each other, two inferences are deducible: first, That the masters
more immediately in the public eye, as now at the head of the various
departments of art, are on the whole superior to those of the last
age; and, secondly, That between the former and their present
contemporaries, the interval is small in comparison with the position
occupied by Reynolds, Hogarth, Wilson, or Gainsborough, in relation
to the school over which they presided. Hence the general conclusion
seems evident, that in Britain, the art, as compared with itself, has
continued to improve.
Compared with foreign art, the distinctive character of the English
school is strongly marked. Painting on the Continent exhibits a
striking uniformity of style, with such peculiarities as, on a general
view, will not lessen the truth of a common classification. The
Continental artist, then, studies to detail, but fails in power of
general effect; his performances are more valuable as works of art and
of imitation, than of imagination or abstract resemblance. The parts
are beautifully made out, finely drawn; but the whole is too seldom
connected by any animating principle of general similitude, uniting the
separate elaborations into one broad and forcible harmony. Hence the
dry, the meagre, and the disjointed particulars, the usual components
of their labours, though in themselves truer than the constituents of
British art--better drawn, it may be, and more carefully finished,
as they almost always are, yet contrast disadvantageously with the
bold and powerful, though large generalizations of our pencil. Nor
can there be impartial question, though each be separately defective,
that more genius is displayed in the latter than in the former. The
English artist paints more to the mind; the French and the Italian
to the eye. The first looks abroad upon the universal harmonies and
oppositions of nature; the second scrutinizes and carefully renders
the filling up of her aggregated forms, and the lesser concurrences
of her general effects. Art, with us, represents objects as they
seem in their relations, rather than as they actually exist; among
our rivals, it delineates things as they are in themselves, to the
neglect of those modifications by which reality is diversified through
pleasing falsehood, especially as viewed in reference to a medium of
expression, founded itself in delusion. In the one case, nature is
seen and imitated as a picture; in the other, her operations and forms
are contemplated as materials out of which pictures are to be wrought.
Hence English art satisfies, but deceives; the foreign style does not
deceive, but fails to satisfy.
Compared with itself, and with the real objects and essence of art, we
have already pointed out the great defect in the practice of English
art to be, imperfection in the details. In portraiture, this has
spread to a ruinous extent; and with the most beautiful models in the
world, British female portraits, speaking in general, are most decided
failures. On this subject, nothing more remains to be said--we refer
to the exquisite works of Lawrence, whose female heads are at once
most striking, most lovely, and very highly finished;--we recommend a
study of Vandyke's likenesses of the ladies of the Court of Charles,
now in the Louvre. Let the natural grace and modesty, the delicacy of
feature and transparency of tint, in these, be compared with similar
works of the present day and practice--when it must at once appear
how much is lost to art, and how great injustice is done to nature.
In male portraits our practice is better, but only from the bolder
lineaments of the subject. The inherent errors are the same--modelling
with the pencil, rather than drawing--immense masses of dark shade to
conceal the absence of all that should be present--and forcible rather
than natural effect. There certainly now appears, however, in the
productions of the most esteemed living masters, the progress of a more
scientific and more perfect style.
In the walk of history, expression--that expression which comes from
the natural outpourings of feeling--which animates the canvass of
the early masters--and which seems to find its proper, spontaneous,
accordant instrument in their pencil,--has yet been wanting. Next,
our historical paintings are sadly defective in composition--not in
the symmetrical arrangement and grouping of figures, but in the real
poetry of the art, in the facile, the creative power over the means
and materials of the science--in the skill of causing them to fall as
if by chance, and without effort or visible design, into the most
harmonious, most striking, and most effective combinations.
Another and a principal source of inferiority--of absolute, yet
laborious error, has been the most mistaken perceptions of ideal beauty
in art. This subject it was our intention to have treated here at some
length. Our limits, however, forbid, while it is of less consequence,
since the volume contains within itself the leading precepts on this
topic. The sum of these separate remarks is, that the ideal is not
beauty apart from, but wrought out of nature. So far from being the
creation of fancy, it lives, breathes, and is to be found only in
nature. In this important principle, juster ideas are beginning rapidly
to diffuse their influence over the whole of our art, since theory
has been laid aside, and nature, and the antique, and real taste have
regained the ascendency.
THE FINE ARTS.
ARCHITECTURE.