"The value of the cultivated ear is well understood; and the time bestowed

on the acquisition of the universal language of music, is abundantly

repaid by the gratification which it affords, although not employed in the

communication of knowledge, but merely as a source of agreeable sensation.

Were the same attention paid to the improvement of the eye, which is given

to that of the ear, should we not be rewarded with as great an increase of

the blameless pleasures of life,--from the power of discriminating hues

and forms,--as we derive from the knowledge of musical proportions and

sounds? The cultivation of the sense of sight would have such an effect in

improving even the faculty of executing those productions of mechanical

labour which constitute so large a portion of the riches of a commercial

and refined people, that it ought to be regarded among the mere operative

classes of society as a primary object in the education of their

apprentices. Indeed, it may be confidently asserted, that an artizan,

accustomed to an accurate discrimination of outline, will, more readily

than another not educated with equal care in that particular, perceive the

fitness or defects of every species of mechanical contrivance; and, in

consequence, be enabled to suggest expedients which would tend to enlarge

the field of invention. We can form no idea to ourselves how many of the

imperfections in the most ingenious of our machines and engines would have

been obviated, had the inventors been accustomed to draw with accuracy.

"But, to the student of the fine arts, this important branch of education

will yield but few of the advantages which it is calculated to afford,

unless his studies are directed by a philosophical spirit, and the

observation of physical expression rendered conducive to some moral

purpose. Without the guidance of such a spirit, painting and sculpture

are but ornamental manufactures; and the works of Raphael and Michael

Angelo, considered without reference to the manifestations which they

exhibit of moral influence, possess no merit beyond the productions of the

ordinary paper-hanger.

"The first operation of this philosophical spirit will lead the student to

contemplate the general form of the figure as an object of beauty; and

thence instruct him to analyse the use and form of every separate part;

the relation and mutual aid of the parts to each other; and the necessary

effect of the whole in unison.

"By an investigation of this kind, he will arrive at what constitutes

character in art; and, in pursuing his analysis, he will discover that the

general construction of the human figure in the male indicates strength

and activity; and that the form of the individual man, in proportion to

the power of being active, is more or less perfect. In the male, the

degree of beauty depends on the degree of activity with which all the

parts of the body are capable of performing their respective and mutual

functions; but the characteristics of perfection of form in the female are

very different; delicacy of frame and modesty of demeanour, with less

capability to be active, constitute the peculiar graces of woman.

"When the student has settled in his own mind the general and primary

characteristics, in either sex, of the human figure, the next step will

enable him to reduce the particular character of his subject into its

proper class, whether it rank under the sublime or the beautiful, the

heroic or the graceful, the masculine or the feminine, or in any of its

other softer or more spirited distinctions. For the course of his studies

will have made him acquainted with the moral operations of character, as

they are expressed upon the external form; and the habit of

discrimination, thus acquired, will have taught him the action or attitude

by which all moral movements of character are usually accompanied. By this

knowledge of the general figure, this habitual aptitude to perceive the

beauty and fitness of its parts, and of the correspondence between the

emotions of the mind and the actions of the body, he will find himself in

possession of all that Zeuxis sought for in the graces of the different

beautiful women whom he collected together, that he might be enabled to

paint a proper picture of Helen; and it is the happy result of this

knowledge which we see in the Apollo Belvidere and the Venus de Medici,

that renders them so valuable as objects of study.

"But the student must be always careful to distinguish between objects of

study and objects of imitation; for the works which will best improve his

taste and exalt his imagination, are precisely those which he should least

endeavour to imitate; because, in proportion to their appropriate

excellences, their beauties are limited in their application.

"The Apollo is represented by the mythologists as a perfect man, in the

vigour of life; tall, handsome and animated; his locks rising and floating

on the wind; accomplished in mind and body; skilled in the benevolent art

of alleviating pain; music his delight, and poetry and song his continual

recreation. His activity was shown in dancing, running, and the manly

exercises of the quoit, the sling, and the bow. He was swift in his

pursuits, and terrible in his anger.--Such was the Pythian Apollo; and

were a sculptor to think of forming the statue of such a character, would

he not determine that his body, strong and vigorous from constant

exercise, should be nobly erect; that, as his lungs were expanded by

habits of swiftness in the chase, his chest should be large and full; that

his thighs, as the source of movement in his legs, should have the

appearance of enlarged vigour and solidity; and that his legs, in a

similar manner, should also possess uncommon strength to induce and

propagate the action of the feet? The nostrils ought to be elevated,

because the quick respirations of running and dancing would naturally

produce that effect; and, for the same reason, the mouth should appear to

be habitually a little open. While his arms, firm and nervous by the

exercise of the quoit, the sling, and the bow, should participate in the

general vigour and agility of the other members;--and would not this be

the Apollo Belvidere?

"Were the young artist, in like manner, to propose to himself a subject in

which he would endeavour to represent the peculiar excellences of woman,

would he not say, that these excellences consist in a virtuous mind, a

modest mien, a tranquil deportment, and a gracefulness in motion? And, in

embodying the combined beauty of these qualities, would he not bestow on

the figure a general, smooth, and round fulness of form, to indicate the

softness of character; bend the head gently forward, in the common

attitude of modesty; and awaken our ideas of the slow and graceful

movements peculiar to the sex, by limbs free from that masculine and

sinewy expression which is the consequence of active exercise?--and such

is the Venus de Medici. It would be utterly impossible to place a person

so formed in the attitude of the Apollo, without destroying all those

amiable and gentle associations of the mind which are inspired by

contemplating 'the statue which enchants the world.'

"Art affords no finer specimens of the successful application of the

principles which I have laid down than in those two noble productions."

Chap. X.

Discourse to the Academy in 1797.--On the Principles of Painting and

Sculpture.--Of Embellishments in Architecture.--Of the Taste of the

Ancients.--Errors of the Moderns.--Of the good Taste of the Greeks in

Appropriations of Character to their Statues.--On Drawing.--Of Light

and Shade.--Principles of Colouring in Painting.--Illustration.--Of

the Warm and Cold Colours.--Of Copying fine Pictures.--Of

Composition.--On the Benefits to be derived from Sketching;--and of

the Advantage of being familiar with the Characteristics of Objects

in Nature.

In the discourse which Mr. West delivered from the chair of the Academy in

1797, he resumed the subject which he had but slightly opened, in that of

which the foregoing chapter contains the substance. I shall therefore

endeavour in the same manner, and as correctly as I can, to present a view

of the mode in which he treated his argument, and as nearly as possible in

his own language.

"As the foundation of those philosophical principles," said Mr. West, "on

which the whole power of art must rest, I wish to direct the attention of

the student, especially in painting and sculpture, to an early study of

the human figure, with reference to proportion, expression, and character.

"When I speak of painting and sculpture, it is not my intention to pass

over architecture, as if it were less dependent on philosophical

principles, although what I have chiefly to observe with respect to it

relates to embellishment;--a branch of art which artists are too apt to

regard as not under the control of any principle, but subject only to

their own taste and fancy. If the young architect commences his career

with this erroneous notion, he will be undone, if there is any just

notions of his art in the country.

"It is, therefore, necessary, as he derives his models from the ancients,

that he should enquire into the origin of those embellishments with which

the architects of antiquity decorated their various edifices. In the

prosecution of his enquiries, he will find that the ornaments of temples

and mausolea, may be traced back to the periods of emblematic art, and

become convinced that the spoils of victims, and instruments of sacrifice,

were appropriate ornaments of the temple; while urns, containing the ashes

of the dead, and the tears of the surviving friends, were the invariable

decorations of the mausoleum. The good taste of the classic ancients

prevented them from ever intermixing the respective emblems of different

buildings, or rather, in their minds custom preserved them from falling

into such an incongruous error, as to place the ornaments belonging to the

depositaries of the dead on triumphal arches, palaces, and public offices.

They considered in the ornaments the character and purpose of the edifice;

and they would have been ashamed to have thought it possible that their

palaces might be mistaken for mausolea, or their tombs for the mansions of

festivity.

"Is the country in which we live free from the absurdities which confound

these necessary distinctions? Have we never beheld on the porticoes of

palaces, public halls, or places of amusement, the skins of animals

devoted to the rites of the pagan religion, or vases consecrated to the

ashes of the dead, or the tears of the living? Violations of sense and

character, in this respect, are daily committed. We might, with as much

propriety, adorn the friezes of our palaces and theatres with the skulls

and cross thigh-bones of the human figure, which are the emblems of death

in every country throughout modern Europe!

"I do not here allude to any particular work, nor do I speak of this want

of principle as general. It is indeed impossible that I can be supposed to

mean the latter; for we have among us men distinguished in the profession

of architecture, who would do honour to the most refined periods of

antiquity. But all are not equally chaste; and in addressing myself to the

young, it is my duty to guard them against those deviations from good

taste, which, without such a caution, they might conceive to be sanctioned

by some degree of example. It is my wish to preserve them from the

innovations of caprice and fashion, to which the public is always prone;

and to assure the youth of genius, that while he continues to found the

merit of his works on true principles, he will always find,

notwithstanding the apparent generality of any fashion, that there is no

surer way, either to fame or fortune, than by acting in art, as well as

life, on those principles which have received the sanction of experience,

and the approbation of the wise of all ages.

"I shall now return to the consideration of painting and sculpture.

"The Greeks, above all others, afford us the best and most decided proofs

of the beauty arising from the philosophical consideration of the subject

intended to be represented. To all their deities a fixed and appropriate

character was given, from which it would have perhaps been profanity to

depart. This character was the result of a careful consideration of the

ideal beauty suitable to the respective attributes of the different

deities. Thus in their Jupiter, Neptune, Hercules, Vulcan, Mars, and

Pluto; the Apollo, Mercury, Hymen, and Cupid, and also in the goddesses

Juno, Minerva, Venus, Hebe, the Nymphs and Graces; appeared a vast

discrimination of character, at the same time as true an individuality as

if the different forms had been the works of Nature herself.

"In your progress through that mechanical part of your professional

education, which is directed to the acquisition of a perfect knowledge of

the human figure, I recommend to you a scrupulous exactness in imitating

what is immediately before you, in order that you may acquire the habit of

observing with precision every object that presents itself to your sight.

Accustom yourselves to draw all the deviations of the figure, till you are

as much acquainted with them as with the alphabet of your own language,

and can make them with as much facility as your letters; for they are

indeed the letters and alphabet of your profession, whether it be painting

or sculpture.

"These divisions consist of the head, with its features taken in three

points of view, front, back, and profile; the neck in like manner, also

the thorax, abdomen, and pelvis; thigh, knee, leg, ankle, the carpus,

metacarpus, and toes; the clavicula, arm, fore-arm, wrist, carpus,

metacarpus, and fingers. While you are employed on these, it would be

highly proper to have before you the osteology of the part on which you

are engaged, as in that consists the foundation of your pursuit. And, in

this period of your studies, I recommend that your drawings be

geometrical, as when you draw and study a column with its base and

capital. At the same time you should not neglect to gain a few points in

perspective, particularly so far as to give effect to the square and

cylinder, in order to know what constitutes the vanishing point, and point

of distance, in the subject you are going to draw.

"After you have perfected yourselves in the parts of the figure, begin to

draw the Greek figures entire, with the same attention to correctness as

when you drew the divisions in your earlier lessons. Attend to the

perspective according to the vanishing point opposite to your eye. You

will naturally seek to possess your mind with the special character of the

figure before you;--and of all the Grecian figures, I would advise you to

make from the Apollo and Venus a general measurement or standard for man

and woman, taking the head and its features, as the part by which you

measure the divisions of those figures.

"Light and shade must not be neglected; for what you effect in drawing by

the contour of the figure, light and shade must effect with the

projections of those parts which front you in the figure. Light and shade

there produce what becomes outline to another drawing of the same object

in a right angle to the place where you sit.

"It seems not impossible to reduce to the simplicity of rule or principle,

what may have appeared difficult in this branch of art to young students,

and may have been too often pursued at random by others. All forms in

nature, both animate and inanimate, partake of the round form more than

of any other shape; and when lighted, whether by the sun or flame, or by

apertures admitting light, must have two relative extremes of light and

shadow, two balancing tints, the illuminated and the reflected, divided by

a middle tint or the aerial. The effect of illumination by flame or

aperture, differs from that of the sun in this respect; the sun

illuminates with parallel rays, which fall over all parts of the

enlightened side of the subject, while the light of a flame or an aperture

only strikes directly on the nearest point of the object, producing an

effect which more or less resembles the illumination of the sun in

proportion to the distance and dimensions of the object.

"Let us then suppose a ball to be the object on which the light falls, in

a direction of forty-five degrees or the diagonal of a square, and at a

right angle from the ball to the place where you stand. One half of the

ball will appear illuminated, and the other dark. This state of the two

hemispheres constitutes the two masses of light and shadow. In the centre

of the mass of light falls the focus of the illumination in the ball;

between the centre of the illumination and the circle of the ball, where

the illumination, reaches its extremity, lies what may be called the

transparent tint; and between it and the dark side of the ball lies the

serial or middle tint. The point of darkness, the extreme of shade, is

diametrically opposite to the focus of illumination, between which and

the aerial tint lies the tint of reflection. If the ball rests on a

plain, it will throw a shadow equal in length to one diameter and a

quarter of the ball. That shadow will be darker than the shade on the

ball, and the darkest part will be where the plain and ball come in

contact with each other.

"This simple experiment, whether performed in the open sun-shine, or with

artificial illumination, will lead you to the true principles of light and

shade over all objects in nature, whether mountains, clouds, rocks, trees,

single figures, or groups of figures. It would therefore be of great use,

when you are going to give light and shade to any object, first to make

the experiment of the ball, and in giving that light and shade, follow the

lessons with which it will furnish you.

"You will find that this experiment will instruct you, not only in the

principles of light and shade, but also of colours; for that there is a

corresponding hue with respect to colours is not to be disputed. In order

to demonstrate this, place in the ball which you have illuminated, the

prismatic colours, suiting their hues to those of the tints. Yellow will

answer to the focus of illumination, and the other secondary and primary

hues will fall into their proper places. Hence, on the enlightened side of

a group or figure, you may lay yellow, orange, red, and then violet, but

never on the side where the light recedes. On that side must come the

other prismatic colours in their natural order. Yellow must pass to green,

the green to blue, and the blue to purple. The primary colours of yellow,

orange, and red, are the warm colours, and belong to the illuminated side

of objects; the violet is the intermediate, and green, blue, and purple

are the cold colours, and belong to the retiring parts of your

composition.

"On the same principle, and in the same order, must be placed the tints

which compose the fleshy bodies of men and women, but so blended with

each other, as to give the softness appropriate to the luminous quality

and texture of flesh; paying attention, at the same time, to reflections

on its surface from other objects, and to its participation of their

colours. The latter is a distinct circumstance arising from accident.

"When the sun illuminates a human body, in the same manner as the ball,

the focus of the illumination in that body will partake of the yellow; and

the luminous or transparent tint, will have the orange and the red. These

produce, what is called, the carnation. The pure red, occasioned by the

blood, lies in the lips, cheeks, joints, and extremities of the figure,

and no where else. On the receding side of the focus is the local colour

of the flesh, and on the receding side of that is the greenish tint; in

the shade will fall the cold or bluish, and in the reflection will fall

the tint of purple. The most perfect tint of ground, from which to relieve

this arrangement of colours, is either blue, grey, or purple, for those

colours partake of the complexion of the watery sky in which the rainbow

appears, or the ground which best exhibits the prismatic colours.

"In acquiring a practical knowledge of the happiest manner of distributing

your colours according to nature, it will assist you, if you will copy

with attention some pieces of Titian, Correggio, Reubens, and Vandyke; the

masters in whose works you will most eminently find the system pursued,

which I have endeavoured to illustrate by the simple image of the ball.

"Having passed from the antique school, to that in which you draw after

the living figure, still adhere to that scrupulous exactness of drawing

with which you first set out; marking with precision the divisions of the

figure. After you have made yourselves acquainted with the drawing of the

living figure, you must then begin to enlarge your lines, and to give

softness and breadth, to direct your attention to what constitutes style

and character, and to discriminate these from what constitutes manner.

"To assist you in this nice discrimination, consult the prints and works

of Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Hannibal Carracci. In them you will find

the strongest and purest evidence of style and character, yet all

differing from each other, and all equally brought out of nature. I do not

recommend them with a view that you should adopt the style and character

of any of them; but to show from those great examples, that style and

character, although ever founded in nature, are as various as the

individual genius of every artist; that they are as free to you as they

were to those masters; that if you will consult your own mind, you will

draw forth a style and character of your own, and therefore no man can

ever be excused for sinking into a mannerist.

"And I cannot omit to observe here, that in the order of your studies,

your mental powers should be cherished and brought into action by reading

and reflection, but not until you have acquired practical facility in your

art. Too often it happens, and I have seen it with concern, that the

presumption of youth, or the errors of instruction, have reversed this

order, and have carried many to attempt essays of research and learning,

before they were well grounded in the principles of professional practice.

What other consequences can follow from such a course, but that the

student will turn in discontent from his own productions, because they

fall short of the ideas in his mind; and induce him, perhaps, to abandon,

with disgust, a profession in which he might have shone with distinction,

had he taken a right method of cultivating his own powers!

"The great masters were all at an early age great in the mechanical

department of their art, before they established any name by their

philosophical style and character. Michael Angelo, when a mere youth,

modelled and drew in a manner which astonished his own master. Raphael, at

not more than nineteen years of age, rivalled his instructor, Pietro

Perugino, in his executive talent; and, owing to this, he was enabled, at

the age of only twenty-five, to send forth his two great works, _the

Dispute on the Sacrament_, and _the School of Athens_. Guido, Bernini, and

many others of the first class, pursued the same course of study, and

were in the full possession of their powers very young. Vandyke, before he

was twenty years old, assisted Reubens in his greatest works; and on a

certain occasion, when the pupils of Reubens were amusing themselves in

the absence of their master, one of them happened to fall against 'the

Mother,' in the Descent from the Cross, which Vandyke repaired in a manner

so admirable, that when the painter came next to the picture, he expressed

himself surprised at the excellence of his own work, and said, that he

thought he had not done that arm so well. In a word, wherever we find the

executive power high at an early age, whether in painting or sculpture, we

have an assurance of future excellence, which nothing but indolence can

prevent. And, to give that early facility correctness of execution,

remember and pursue the great maxim of Apelles:--

"'_Nulla dies, sine linea._'

"The young artist may, indeed, draw lines every day and every hour with

advantage, whether it be to amuse himself in society or in the fields. He

should accustom himself to sketch every thing, especially what is rare and

singular in nature. Let nothing of the animate creation on the earth, or

in the air, or in the water, pass you unnoticed; especially those which

are distinguished for their picturesque beauty, or remarkable for dignity

of form or elegance of colour. Fix them distinctly in your sketch-book and

in your memory. Observe, with the same contemplative eye, the landscape,

the appearance of trees, figures dispersed around, and their aerial

distance, as well as lineal forms. In this class of observations, omit not

to observe the light and shade, in consequence of the sun's rays being

intercepted by clouds or other accidents. Besides this, let your mind be

familiar with the characteristics of the ocean; mark its calm dignity when

undisturbed by the winds, and all its various states between that and its

terrible sublimity when agitated by the tempest. Sketch with attention its

foaming and winding coasts with distant land, and that awful line which

separates it from the Heavens. Replenished with these stores, your

imagination will then come forth as a river, collected from little

springs, spreads into might and majesty. The hand will then readily

execute what it has been so practised in acquiring; while the mind will

embrace its subjects with confidence, by being so well accustomed to

observe their picturesque effect."

Chap. XI.

Discourse.--Introduction.--On the Philosophy of Character in Art.--Of

Phidias.--Of Apelles.--Of the Progress of the Arts among the

Moderns.--Of Leonardo da Vinci.--Of Michael Angelo, Raphael, and

Bartolomeo.--Of Titian.--Of the Effects of Patronage.

It is not my intention to give all the discourses which Mr. West addressed

to the students of the Academy, but only those which contain, what may be

called, illustrations of the principles of his art. The following,

however, is so interesting and so various in its matter, that it would be

improper in me to make any attempt to garble or abridge it, beyond

omitting the mere incidental notice of temporary circumstances.

"The discourse which I am about to deliver, according to usual custom on

the return of this day, must be considered as addressed more immediately

to those among the students, who have made so much progress in art, as to

be masters of the human figure, of perspective, and of those other parts

of study, which I have heretofore recommended as the elements of painting

and sculpture; and who are therefore about to enter on the higher paths of

professional excellence. It will consequently be my object, now, to show

how that excellence is to be attained; and this will best be done, as I

conceive, by showing how it has been attained by others, in whom that

excellence has been most distinguished in the ancient and modern world. By

pursuing the principles on which they moved, you have the best

encouragement in their illustrious example, while, by neglecting those

principles, you can have no more reason to hope for such success as they

met with, than you can think of reaching a distant land, without road or

compass to direct your steps.

"The ground which I shall propose for your attention is this--to

investigate those philosophical principles on which all truth of character

is founded, and by which that sublime attainment, the highest refinement

in art, and without which every thing else is merely mechanical, may be

brought to a decided point, in all the variety by which it is

distinguished through the animated world.

"On this ground, and on this alone, rose Phidias and Apelles to the

celebrity which they held among the Greeks; and among the Italians,

Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Titian, Correggio, and some

others, who became the completest models in sculpture and painting. Their

predecessors, indeed, in both countries, had for a considerable time been

preparing the way, but not having equally studied the best means, or those

means not having been equally before them, it was reserved of course for

the great characters I have mentioned, to unite philosophical with

professional truth, and to exhibit to the world in their works the

standards of style. From the same source arose another consequence, ever

worthy and pleasing to be mentioned;--the exhibition of those perfections

was always accompanied by that ardent patronage, which not only cheered

their minds, and invigorated their powers, but has left a glory on their

country, which no subsequent events have been able to obliterate, and

which never will be obliterated in any country where the sublimity of art,

involving the most refined embellishments of civilized life, is cherished

by those who are in a capacity to cherish it.

"In a very early period of the arts in Greece, we meet with a circumstance

which shows the advantages derived from consulting with philosophy, if it

does not also show the origin and outset of those advantages. The

circumstance to which I allude is, that in the period when the sculptors

contented themselves with the stationary forms and appearance of figures,

in imitation of their predecessors, the Egyptians; at that time they began

to submit their works to the judgment of philosophers, one of whom, being

called in to survey a statue, which a sculptor, then eminent, was going to

expose to public view, remarked, that the human figure before him wanted

motion, or that expression of intellect and will, from which motion and

character too must arise; for man had a soul and mind, which put him at

the head of the animal creation, and, therefore, without that soul and

mind, the form of man was degraded.

"This observation touched the point, then, necessary to be obviated, in

order to overcome the primitive rudeness which still attached to

sculpture; and without the application of the principle contained in the

observation, sculpture and painting too might have stood still for ages.

And from what other source than the principles of philosophic study, or,

in other words, from reflection on the moral powers or passions of man,

their several effects, as produced in their workings on the human figure,

could that improvement be obtained? It was the constant employment of the

philosophic mind, to study those causes and effects, and to reduce them to

a more distinct display for the truth and utility of their own writings.

The philosophers were, therefore, the most likely to assist the artist in

those displays of character which tended to illustrate the truth of his

own works. Nor on this account is it any disparagement to the artists of

those days, when philosophic studies were confined to particular classes

of men, that this moral view of art was not sufficiently taken up by the

more mechanical part of the profession.

"Thus, however, the opening was made to the important expression of

character. And the lesson suggested by the philosopher alluded to, is not

confined to the Greeks alone. I wish, young gentlemen, to leave it in all

its force upon your minds. For if the figures you design, whether singly

or in groups, have not their actions correspondent to what their minds

appear to be pursuing, they will suit any other subject as well as that in

which they are placed. This remark is the more worthy of attention, as it

does not apply to any of the figures of the Grecian masters whom I have

mentioned. The figure by Phidias on Monte Cavallo at Rome, the Apollo, the

Laocoon, the Venus, the Hercules, and the fighting gladiator, are all

perfect on the just principles I have mentioned. There is no room for

amendment; their propriety is unquestionable; their truth eternal. And so

in the works of modern art, we see the same truth and perfection in the

Capella Sestina by Michael Angelo, in the Supper by Leonardo da Vinci at

Milan, in the Cartoons by Raphael, the St. Peter Martyr by Titian, and the

Note by Correggio.

"Having mentioned the figure on Monte Cavallo, representing, as you all

know, a young man curbing a horse, I cannot help stopping to remark, that

if any work of sculpture ever demonstrated more strongly the value of

uniting philosophic science with that of art, for the production of

character, it is that work by Phidias. Never did the power of art express

more evidently than is done in the head of the young man, that every

feature is moved by an internal mental power, and corresponds in the most

perfect truth with what we see to be the labouring passion. When we view

it in front we are astonished that the mouth does not speak. No observer

ever thinks that the head is a block of stone. But the whole group is

masterly on the most refined principles of science. It was intended to be

seen at an elevated point, as well as at a distant one. All its forms,

therefore, are grand without the minutiae of parts; its effects are

striking and momentary; and in every circumstance considered, it is

plainly the work of consummate genius and science united.

"Was it possible that in an age which gave a Phidias to the Greeks,

there should not have been a Pericles to reward, by his patronage, merit

so exalted?

"We may carry the same reflections into the progress of the pencil. As the

Greeks became refined in their minds, they gained an Apelles to paint, and

an Alexander to patronise. We are not enabled now to speak of the works of

that great master. His figure of Alexander, in the character of young

Ammon, is described as his master-piece. Such was the expression with

which the hand grasped the thunder-bolt, that it seemed actually to start

from the pannel. The expression and force of character given to the whole,

was equally marvellous. And when we consider the refinement to which the

human mind had then arrived among the Greeks, the immense value which

they put upon the works of that artist, and that they were too wise to

devote their applause to things which fell short of consummate excellence,

we cannot doubt but it was by the cultivation of the public mind that the

arts reached such attainments among them. What must have been their

exquisite state when the simple line drawn by Protogenes,--in the

consciousness of his acknowledged perfection, and which was intended to

announce the man who drew it, as much as if he had told his name,--was so

far excelled by another simple line over it by Apelles, that the former at

once confessed himself outdone? Those two lines, simple as they were, were

by no means trifling in their instruction. They gave us, as it were, an

epitome of the progress which the arts had long been making in Greece. For

if the drawing of a simple line, of such a master as Protogenes, who was

conceived by many to hold the first pencil in the world, was surpassed, to

his great surprise, by another, how high must refinement have been raised

by the exertions of the artists in a period so emulous of perfection!

"The stages in the progress of modern art, have been frequently

distinguished by ages similar to those which succeed one another in the

human growth. We may safely assert, that in the infantine and youthful

period of modern art, literature and science were only seen in their

infancy and growth. The opening of nature displayed in the works of

Massaccio; the graces exhibited in those of Lorenzo Ghiberti; and the

advancement in perspective made by one or two others, kept pace nearly

with that progress in philosophy which appeared in the best writings of

those days. As the one took a larger step in the next stage or period, the

other stepped forth in a like degree at the same time; so that in Leonardo

da Vinci we see the great painter and the great philosopher: his painting

most clearly refined in its principles, and enlarged in its powers by his

philosophical studies. As a philosopher, and especially in those parts of

knowledge which were most interesting to his profession, he laid that

foundation of science which has ever since been adopted and admired. As a

painter, he not only went far beyond his predecessors, but laid down those

principles of science in the expression of individual character, and of a

soul and figure specifically and completely appropriated to each other,

which opened the way to the greatness acquired by those who followed him

in his studies. In that point of excellence, Leonardo da Vinci was

original; and it was the natural result of a mind like his, formed to

philosophical investigation, and deeply attentive to all the variety of

appearances by which the passions are marked in the human countenance and

frame. These he traced to their sources: he found them in their radical

principles, and by his knowledge of these principles, his expression of

character became perfected.

"The _nature_ exhibited by Massaccio had not gone to that extent of

expression. It however spoke a soul: he drew forth an inward mind on the

outward countenance: he gave a character; but that character was not so

discriminated as to become the index of one particular passion more than

another; or to decide, for instance, the head of Jupiter from that of a

Minerva: so at with the aid, of different types, it should not befit a

Saviour or a Magdalene.

"We must take along with us in this review, that the splendid patronage of

the house of Medici came forward, to meet, and to cherish the happy

advancements made by the masters of those days; so that Florence, which

was then the greatest seat of the arts, was no less brilliant and

illustrious in the generosity which strove to perpetuate them, than in the

genius by which they had been cultivated.

"Leonardo da Vinci, by the principles which he so effectually realised,

has always been considered as having established the manly as well as the

graceful age of modern art. But manhood is never so fixed as to be

incapable of progress. The manhood then attained in art was capable of

farther advancement beyond the growth which the powers of Da Vinci had

given it. This was eminently illustrated by the sublimity of style which

was attained by the genius of Michael Angelo and of Raphael;--quality

equally original in both, although issuing from different principles. In

the former, it was founded on that force and grandeur, allied to poetic

spirit, which rises above all that is common, and leaves behind it all

that is tame and simply correct; which, not content with engaging the

senses, seizes on the imagination, while it never departs from truth. In

the latter, it was made up of the beautiful and graceful, which attracts

by the assemblage of whatever is most perfect and elevated in the

character or subject.

"Raphael coming somewhat later than Michael Angelo on the theatre of art,

had the advantage of many of that master's works, as well as of all the

improvements which had been made before. His life was a short one, and the

first studies of it were almost lost in the dry school of Pietro Perugino.

But he soon found his way to the philosophy of Leonardo da Vinci, and to

the profound principles on which his admirable expression of character is

founded. The dignity of drapery, and of light and shade, opened by

Bartolomeo, invited his studies; and the sublimity of the human figure in

the sculptures of his cotemporary, Michael Angelo, fastened on his

contemplation. Thus he entered at once, as it were, into the inheritance

of whatever excellencies had been produced before him. With these

advantages he was called to adorn the apartments of the Vatican. And can

we wonder that his first works there, at the age of seven-and-twenty, were

the Dispute on the Sacrament, and the School of Athens?

"But what was it that contributed very much to the production of those

works? It was not the profound studies of Raphael's mind, but the spirit

of the age which warmed those studies.--It was a great age, in which

learning and science were become diffused, at least throughout Europe:--a

great age replete with characters studious of philosophy; and, therefore,

fond of the instruction conveyed by the arts;--fond of those high and

more profound compositions which entered into the spirit of superior

character, and made some study and research necessary to develope their

beauties. To meet the taste of such an age, the two first public works of

Raphael, above mentioned, were well suited, inasmuch as they were

intended to convey the comparative views of theology and human science,

or, in other words, the improvement of the human mind arising from the

two great sources of national wisdom and revealed light. It must not also

be forgotten, that while the spirit of the age was warming his mind to

the peculiar dignity of theme and style which marks his works, the

generous and noble patronage of the papal court was exerting its utmost

power to immortalise him, and every other great master that arose within

the circle of its influence. Their merit and their fame found as animated

a protector in Leo X. as Phidias experienced in Pericles, or Apelles in

Alexander the Great.

"As the Florentine and Roman schools were thus gradually refined in the

excellence of design and character, by the aid of philosophical studies;

so the Venetian masters were equally indebted to the like studies, without

which, they would never have reached their admirable system of colouring.

If any have conceived otherwise, they have taken a very superficial view

of their system. Where is there greater science concerned than in the

whole theory of colours? It employed the investigation of Newton; and

shall that pass for a common or easy attainment which took up so much of

his profound studies? The Venetian masters had been long working their way

to the radical principles of this science, not only for a just and perfect

arrangement of their colouring, but for that clear and transparent system

in the use of it, which have equally marked that school in the days of its

maturity under Titian. He it was who established, on unerring principles,

founded on nature and truth, that accomplished system which John Bellini

had first laboured to discover, and in which Giorgioni had made further

advancements. Besides his zeal in his profession, Titian was born in that

higher rank of life which might be supposed to give him an easier access

to the elegant studies of philosophic science; and he had prosecuted, with

great ardour, the science of chemisty, the better to understand the

properties of colour, their homogeneous blendings, purity, and duration;

as well as the properties of oils, gums, and other fluids, which might

form the fittest vehicles to convey his colours upon canvass.

"The elegant Charles V. was to Titian in liberal pratronage what Leo X.

was to Raphael. That munificent prince carried him into Spain, where his

works laid the foundation of the Spanish school in painting, and gave a

relish for that art to all the succeeding monarchs.

"What has been remarked respecting Titian and the Venetian school, is

equally true of that of Correggio among the Lombard painters. The mind of

Correggio appears evidently, by his works, to have been profoundly

enlightened; and especially in the philosophical arrangement and general

doctrine of colours. What has been said by some concerning the low

circumstances of his fortune, (which is not true,) neither proves the

obscurity of his birth, nor that philosophical researches were out of his

reach, or beside his emulation. The truth is, that he was born of a very

honourable family, and was accomplished in the elegancies of life; not

that it is necessary for any man to have the advantages of birth, in

order to become enlightened by science in any way whatever. The patronage

which attended him was of the most elevated kind, being dispensed by the

illustrious houses of Mantua and Modena, as well as by the institution of

the Doma of Parma. But what is by no means less worthy of our notice is,

that of all the masters who have risen up in any of the schools of Italy,

not one has been the means of giving success and reputation to those who

have followed any of their respective styles equally with Correggio. The

ineffable softness, sweetness, and grace in his paintings, have never

varied in their effects with the course of time. And they who have since

partaken of these powers in his style, have very generally become great

masters, (distinguished by none of the excesses which have sometimes

attended the imitation of other models,) and successful in gainng the

approbation and favour of the world.

"The paths pursued by those great examples must become yours, young

gentlemen, or you can neither be eminent in colouring, nor sure in the

execution of your art. It is possible, that by habits of practice, handed

over from one to another, or by little managements in laying colours on

the canvass, where little or nothing of the general science has been

studied and attained, many may so far succeed as to avoid glaring errors,

and a violation of those first principles which have their foundation in

nature. But that success is at all times extremely hazardous and dependent

on chance. More frequently it has introduced invincible conflicts between

the primary and secondary colours, to the ruin of harmony and aerial

perspective, and to the overthrow of the artist, whenever the picture is

glanced upon by the eye of scientific discernment. Contemptible are the

best of such managements, ever in the hands of those that know them best,

compared with a full and masterly possession of the philosophy by which

this part of your art must be guided. If the ordonnance of colour, on each

figure and on the whole, is not disposed according to the immutable laws

of the science, no fine effect, or accordant tones of colours, can

possibly be produced. There is, therefore, but one way to make sure of

success, and to raise your characters in this point, and that is by making

yourselves masters of the whole philosophy of colours, as Titian and

Correggio did, and some others, in whose works, from first to last, the

minutest scrutiny will never find a colour misplaced or prejudiced by its

disposition with others.

"To be perfect, is the emulation which belongs to those arts in which you

are engaged, and the anxious hope of the country in which you live. To

animate you to that perfection, is the object of what I have now addressed

to you. I am persuaded it is your ambition to be perfect. This Academy

looks with pleasure on the progress of your studies, as it may look with

pride on the high and cultivated state to which the arts have been raised

among us ever since they have had the establishment of a regular school.

It is no flattery to the present æra in Britain to say, that in no age of

the world have the arts been carried in any country to such a summit as

they now hold among us, in so short a period as half a century at most.

Among the Greeks some centuries had elapsed, amidst no little emulation

in the arts, before they obtained an Apelles. In modern Italy, without

going as far back as we might, it took up a century from the appearance of

Massaccio to the perfection of a Raphael. If, then, the British school has

risen so much more speedily to that celebrity in art, which it is too well

known and established to need any illustration here, what should hinder

her professors from becoming the most distinguished rivals of the fame

acquired by the Greeks and Italians, with a due perseverance in the

studies which lead to perfection, and with those encouragements and

support of patronage which are due to genius?

"As the source of that patronage, we look up with affectionate gratitude

to the benign and flattering attention of our most gracious Sovereign, to

whose regard for the elegant arts, and munificent disposition to cherish

every enlargement of science, and improvement of the human mind, his

people are indebted for this public seminary, his own favoured

Institution, and the first which this country has ever been so fortunate

as to see established. Under his royal patronage and support, this Academy

has risen to its present strength and flourishing condition. His

patronage, which would be improperly estimated by mere expenditure, in a

country not similar in the latitude of government, or in the controul over

revenue, to ancient Greece or modern Italy, but properly by its diffusive

influence, has been the source of every other patronage in the country;

has inspired that refined taste and ardour for elegant arts, which have

given in fact a new character to the people, and has raised within and

without this Academy that body of distinguished men, whose works have

contributed to immortalise his reign, as his love for the arts has become

the means of immortalising them.

"The patronage which has flowed from other quarters, deserves very

honourable mention; and is of so much importance, that without it the

spirit of art must droop, and the very profession of it be contracted in

every situation whatever. It is not by the influence and support of any

individual character, how elevated soever, or how warm soever in his

attachment to taste and elegance, that the extent of professional talents

spread through a country, can be effectually sustained with adequate

encouragements. It is the wealthy and the great, who are commonly trained

by their situations to the perception of what is elegant and refined, that

must come forward in such an illustrious undertaking. It is only they who

can meet every where the merit, let it be disseminated as it may, which is

entitled, to distinction. Without the patronage of such, the arts could

never have obtained their high meridian in Greece and Italy. Had not the

communities and rich individuals in Greece taken the arts under their

protection, not all the encouragement of Pericles, or of Alexander the

Great, could have drawn forth that immense body of painting and sculpture

which filled the country. Had the patronage of Italy rested with the popes

and princes, unaccompanied by those munificent supports which flowed from

the churches and convents, as well as from private individuals of rank and

wealth, the galleries of that country could never have been so superbly

filled as they were, nor could those collections have been made from

thence, which have filled so many galleries and cabinets elsewhere.

"These facts are not to be denied; but they also lead us to another

lesson, which is, that the patronage so generally dispensed was for the

protection of living genius, and that they by whom it was so dispensed

sought no other collections than the works of native and living artists.

On any other ground there can be no such thing as patronage. Nothing else

is worthy of that name. The true and generous patron of great works

selects those which are produced by the talents existing around him. By

collecting from other countries, he may greatly enrich himself, but can

never give celebrity to the country in which he lives. The encouragement

extended to the genius of a single artist, though it may produce but one

original work, adds more to the celebrity of a people, and is a higher

proof of true patriotic ardour, and of a generous love for the progress of

art, than all the collections that ever were made by the productions of

other countries, and all the expenditures that ever were bestowed in

making them. Did the habits of our domestic circumstances, like those of

Italy, permit the ingenious student to have access to those works of

established masters, procured by the spirit of their noble and wealthy

possessors, and of many distinguished amateurs on the most liberal terms,

and with the honourable purpose of forming the taste, as well as enriching

the treasures, of the country, every thing would then be done, which is

wanting to complete the public benefit of such collections, and the

general gratitude to which they who have made them would be entitled. So

abundant are the accomplished examples in art already introduced among us,

that there would then be no necessity for students to run to other

countries for those improvements which their own can furnish.

"It cannot be improper at any time to make these remarks; while it must

also be observed, that the patronage held forth by many great and noble

characters needs no spur; and the means projected by other spirited

individuals in opulent stations, for extending and perpetuating the works

of British masters, fall short in no degree of the most fervid energies

and examples, of which any country has been able to boast.

"It is your duty, young gentlemen, to become accomplished in your

professions, that you may keep alive those energies and examples of

patronage, when you come to draw the attention of the world to your own

works. It is by your success that the arts must be carried on and

preserved here. Patronage can only be expected to follow what is eminently

meritorious, and more especially that general patronage diffused through

the more respectable ranks of society, which is to professional merit,

what the ocean is to the earth;--the great fund from whence it must ever

be refreshed, and without whose abundance, conveyed through innumerable

channels, every thing must presently become dry, and all productions cease

to exist."

Chap. XII.

Discourse.--Introduction.--Of appropriate Character in Historical

Composition.--Architecture among the Greeks and Romans.--Of the

Athenian Marbles.--Of the Ancient Statues.--Of the Moses and Saviour

of Michael Angelo.--Of the Last Judgment of Michael Angelo.--Of

Leonardo da Vinci.--Of Bartolomeo.--Of Raphael.--Of Titian, and his

St. Peter Martyr.--Of the different Italian Schools.--Of the Effects

of the Royal Academy.--Of the Prince Regent's Promise to encourage the

Fine Arts.

After a careful examination of all the remaining notes of Mr. West, it

appeared to me, that the discourse which he delivered on the 10th of

December, 1811, was the only one that required particular notice, after

those which I have already introduced. In some respects it will, perhaps,

be deemed the most interesting of the whole.

"The few points," said the President, "upon which I mean to touch in the

present Discourse, are those which more immediately apply to the

students, who are generously striving to attain excellence in the first

class of refined art,--historical painting.

"Whether their exertions are directed to painting, or the sister arts,

architecture and sculpture, the first thing they must impress upon their

minds, and engraft upon every shoot of their fancy, is that of the

appropriate character, by which the subject they are about to treat, is

distinguished from all other subjects. On this foundation, all the points

of refined art which are, in the truest sense, intellectual, invariably

rest; for without justness of character the works of the pencil can have

but little value, and can never entitle the artist to the praise of a

well-governed genius, or of possessing that philosophical precision of

judgment, which is the source of excellence in the superior walk of his

profession. At the same time, let it be indelibly fixed in your minds,

that when decided character is to be given, that character must be

accompanied by correctness of outline, whether it be in painting or in

sculpture. Any representation of the human figure, in the higher

department of art, wanting these requisites, is, to the feelings of the

educated artist, deficient in that, for the loss of which no other

excellency can compensate.

"Architecture.--This department of art received its decided character from

the Greeks. They distinctly fixed the embellishments to the several

orders; and, by their adaptation of these embellishments and orders, their

buildings obtained a distinct and appropriate character, which declared

the uses for which they were erected.

"The Romans, in their best era of taste, copied their Grecian instructors

in that appropriate character of embellishment which explained, at a

glance, the use of their respective buildings; but, in their latter ages,

they declined from this original purity; and it is the fragments of that

corruption, in which they lost the characteristic precision of the Greeks,

that we have seen of late years employed upon many of our buildings. The

want of mental reflection in employing the orders of architectures with a

rational precision as to character, produces the same sort of deficiency

which we find in an historical picture; where, although each figure, in

correct proportion, be well drawn, with drapery elegantly folded, yet, not

being employed appropriately to the subject, affords no satisfaction to

the spectator.

"The Greeks were in architecture what they were in sculpture; and it is to

them you must look for the original purity of both. We feel rejoiced, that

the exertions recently made by a noble personage to enrich our studies in

both of these departments of art are such, that we may say, London has

become the Athens for study. It is the mental power displayed in the Elgin

marbles that I wish the juvenile artist to notice. Look at the equestrian

groups of the young Athenians in this collection, and you will find in

them that momentary motion which life gives on the occasion to the riders

and their horses. The horse we perceive feels that power which the impulse

of life has given to his rider; we see in him the animation of his whole

frame; in the fire of his eyes, the distention of his nostrils, and in the

rapid motion of his feet, yielding to the guidance of his rider, or in the

speeding of his course: they are, therefore, in perfect unison with the

life in each. At this moment of their animation, they appear to have been

turned into stone by some majestic power, and not created by the human

hand. The single head of the horse, in the same collection, seems as if it

had, by the same influence, been struck into marble, when he was exerting

all the energy of his motion.

"These admirable sculptures, which now adorn our city, are the union of

Athenian genius and philosophy, and illustrate my meaning respecting the

mental impression which is so essentially to be given to works of refined

art. It was this point which the Grecian philosophers wished to impress on

the minds of their sculptors, not to follow their predecessors the

Egyptians in sculpture, who represented their figures without motion,

although nearly perfect in giving to them the external form. 'It is the

passions,' said they, 'with which man is endowed, that we wish to see in

the movements of your figures.' This advice of the philosophers was felt

by the sculptors, and the Athenian marbles are the faithful records of the

efficacy of that advice.

"That you may distinctly perceive and invariably distinguish what we mean

by appropriate character in art, particularly in sculpture, I would class

with these sculptures, the Hercules, the Apollo, the Venus, the Laocoon,

and the Gladiator. In these examples you will find what is appropriate in

character to subject, united with correctness of outline; and it is this

combination of truths which has arrested the attention of an admiring

world, ever since they were produced; and which will attract to them the

admiration of after ages, so long as the workings of the mind on the

external form can be contemplated and understood.

"Now let us see what works there are since the revival of art in the

modern world, which rest on the same basis of appropriate character and

correctness of outline, with those of the ancient Greeks.

"The Moses which the powers of Michael Angelo's mind has presented to our

view, claims our first attention. In this statue the points of character,

in every mode of precise, determinate, and elevated expression, have been

carried to a pitch of grandeur which modern art has not since excelled. In

this figure of Moses, Michael Angelo has fixed the unalterable standard of

the Jewish lawgiver,--a character delineated and justified by the text in

inspired sculpture. The character of Moses was well suited to the grandeur

of the artist's conceptions, and to the dreadful energy of his feelings.

Accordingly, in mental character, this figure holds the first station in

modern art; and I believe we may venture to say, had no competitor in

ancient, except those of the Jupiter and Minerva by Phidias. But the

Saviour, all meekness and benevolence, which Michael Angelo made to

accompany the Moses, was not in unison with his genius. The figure is

mean, but slightly removed from an academical figure, and in no point

appropriate to the subject: so are most of the single figures of the

artist, in his great work on the Day of Judgment; but his groups in that

composition are every where in character, and have not their rivals

either in painting or sculpture. His Bacchus claims our admiration, as

being appropriate to the subject, by the same excellence in delineation

which distinguish the groups in the Day of Judgment. No person can have a

higher veneration than I have for that grandeur of character impressed on

the figures by Michael Angelo; but it is the fitness of the characters and

of the action to the subject, to which I wish to draw your attention, and

not to pour out praise on those points, in which he and other eminent

masters are deficient. On this occasion, I must therefore be permitted to

repeat, that most of the single figures in his great work of the Day of

Judgment, are deficient in the fitness of appropriate character, and in

the fitness of appropriate action to the subject; although as single

figures they demand our admiration. But excellent as they are, they are

but the ingenious adaptation of legs, arms, and heads, to the celebrated

Torso, which bears his name, and which served as the model to most of his

figures. All figures in composition, however excellent they may be in

delineation, which have not their actions and expressions springing from

the subject in which they are the actors, can only be considered as

academical efforts, without the impress of mental power, and without any

philosophical attention to the truth of the subject which the artist

intended to illustrate.

"Leonardo da Vinci is the first who had a full and right conception of the

principle which I wish to inculcate, and he has shown it in his picture of

the Last Supper. But it is necessary to distinguish what parts of the

picture deserve consideration. It is the decision, the appropriate

character of the apostles to the subject; the significance of expression

in their several countenances, and the diversity of action in each figure;

their actions seemingly in perfect unison with their minds, and their

figures individually in unison with their respective situations; some are

confused at the words spoken by our Saviour: "There is one amongst you who

shall betray me;" others are thrown under impressions of a different

feeling. In this respect the picture has left us without an appeal,

either to nature or to art. But Da Vinci failed in the head of our

Saviour. He has failed in his attempt to combine the almost incompatible

qualities of dignity and meekness which are demanded in the countenance of

the Saviour. He had exhausted his powers of characteristic discrimination

in the heads of the apostles; and in his attempt to give meekness to the

countenance of Jesus, he sank into insipience. He had the prudence,

therefore, to leave the face unfinished, that the imagination of the

beholder might not be disappointed by an imperfect image, but form one in

his mind more appropriate to his feelings and to the subject. The ruin of

this picture, the report of which I understand is true, has deprived the

world and the arts of one of the mental eyes of painting. But pleasing as

the works of Leonardo da Vinci are in general, had he not produced this

picture of the Last Supper, and the cartoon of the equestrian combatants

for the standard of victory, he would scarcely have emerged, as a painter

of strong character, above mediocrity. Indeed the back-ground, and general

distribution of this picture, sufficiently mark their Gothic origin. But

his pictures, generally speaking, are more characterised by their

laborious finishing, gentleness, and sweetness of character, than by the

energies of a lively imagination.

"Fra. Bartolomeo di St. Marco, of Florence, was one of the first who

became enamoured of that superiority which grandeur and decision of

character gives to art; and, indeed, of all those higher excellences which

the philosophical mind of Da Vinci had accomplished. In the pictures of

Bartolomeo we behold, for the first time, that breadth of the

clair-obscure--the deep tones of colour, with their philosophical

arrangement, united to that noble folding of drapery appropriate to, and

significant of, every character it covered; a point of excellence in this

master, from which Raphael caught his first conception of that noble

simplicity which distinguishes the dignity of his draperies, and which it

became his pride through life to imitate.

"Bartolomeo, in his figure of St. Mark, has convinced us how important and

indispensable is the union of mental conception with truth of

observation, in order to give a decided and appropriate character to an

Evangelist of the Gospel. None of the pictures of this artist possess the

excellence of his St. Mark except one, which is in the city of Lucca, the

capital of the republic of that name; and, as that picture is but little

known to travellers, and almost unknown to many artists who have visited

Italy, a description of it may not be unacceptable.

"The picture is on pannel, and its dimensions somewhat about twenty feet

in height by fourteen in width. The subject is the Assumption of the

Virgin Mary. The composition is divided into three groups; the Apostles

and the sepulchre form the centre group, from the midst of which the

Virgin ascends; her body-drapery is of a deep ruby colour, which is the

only decided red in the picture, and her mantle blue, but in depth of tone

approaching to black, and extended by angels to nearly each side of the

picture. This mantle is relieved by a light, in tone resembling that of

the break of day, seen over the summit of a dark mountain, which gives an

awful grandeur to the effect of the picture on entering the chapel, in

which it is placed over the altar. That awful light of the morning is

contrasted with the golden effulgence above; in the midst of which, our

Saviour is seen with extended arms, to receive and welcome his mother.

"From the sepulchre, and the Apostles in the centre, to the fore-ground,

the third group of figures partly lies in shade, occasioned by the

over-shadowing of the Virgin's deep-toned mantle extended by angels. On

the other part of the group, on the side where the light enters, the

figures are seen in the broad blaze of day; and amongst them is the

portrait of the artist.

"When I first saw this picture, my sensations were in unison with its

awful character; and I confess that I was touched with the same kind of

sensibility as when I heard the inexpressibly harmonious blendings of

vocal sounds in the solemn notes of _Non nobis Domine_. I never felt more

forcibly the dignity of music and the dignity of painting, than from

these two compositions of art.

"When we consider the combination of excellence requisite to produce the

sublime in painting; the union of propriety with dignity of character; the

graceful grouping; the noble folding of drapery, and the deep sombrous

tones of the clair-obscure, with appropriate colours harmoniously blending

into one whole;--if there is a picture entitled to the appellation of

_sublime_, from the union of all these excellences, It is that which I

have described: considered in all its parts, it is, perhaps, superior to

any work in painting, which has fallen under my observation.

"When these powerful essays in art by Da Vinci, Bartolomeo di St. Marco,

and Michael Angelo became celebrated, Raphael, having attained his adult

age, made his appearance at Florence; where the influence of the works of

those three great artists pervaded all the avenues to excellence in art.

"The gentle sensibility of Raphael's mind was like the softened wax

which makes more visible and distinct the form of the engraving with

which it is touched. Blest by Nature with this endowment, he became like

the heir to the treasured wealth of many families. Enriched by the

accumulated experience which was then in Florence, united to the early

tuition of delineating from nature under Pietro Perugino, and the

subsequent discoveries of the Grecian relics, Raphael's mind became

stored with all that was excellent; and he possessed a practised hand, to

make his conceptions visible on his tablets. Possessing these powers, he

was invited to Rome, and began his picture of _The Dispute on the

Sacrament_. This picture he finished, together with _The School of

Athens_, before he had attained his twenty-eighth year. At Rome he found

himself amidst the splendour of a refined court, and in the focus of

human endowment. He became sensible of the rare advantages of his

situation; he had industry and ardour to combine and to embrace them all;

and the effect is visible in his works. The theological arrangement of

the disputants on the Sacrament, and the scholastic controversies at

Athens, convince us of this truth. In the upper part of the Dispute on

the Sacrament, something may be observed of that taste of Bartolomeo in

drapery, and of the dryness and hardness of his first master Pietro

Perugino; but in the parts which make the aggregate of that work, he has

blended the result of his own observations. In his School of Athens, this

is still more strikingly the case; and in his Heliodorus we see

additional dignity and an enlargement of style.

"At this period of his life, such was the desire of his society by the

great, and such the ambition of standing forward amongst his patrons by

all who were eminent for rank and taste, that he was seduced into courtly

habits, and relaxed from that studious industry, with which he had

formerly laboured; and there are evident marks in many of his works in the

Vatican, of a decline of excellence, and that he was suffering pleasure

and indolence to rob him of his fame. Sensible of this decline in his

compositions, the powers of his mind re-assumed their energies; and that

re-animation stands marked in his unrivalled compositions of the Cartoons

which are in this country, and in the picture of the Transfiguration.

"The transcendant excellence in composition, and in appropriate

character to subject, in the cartoon of Paul preaching at Athens, has

left us to desire or expect nothing farther to be done in telling this

incident of history.

"In the composition of the death of Ananias, and in the single figure of

Elymas the sorcerer struck blind, we have the same example of excellence.

We have indeed in many of the characters and groups in the cartoons, the

various modes of reasoning, speaking, and feeling; but so blended with

nature and truth, and so precise and determined in character, that

criticism has nothing wherewith in that respect to ask for amendment.

"Had the life of this illustrious painter, which closed on his birth-day

in his thirty-seventh year, been prolonged to the period of that of

Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, or Titian, when in the space of

seventeen years at Rome he has given the world more unrivalled works of

art, than has fallen to the lot of any other painter, what an additional

excellence might we not have expected in his works for subsequent

generations to admire.

"The next distinguished artist who comes under our consideration is

Titian. The grandeur which Michael Angelo gave to the human figure, Titian

has rivalled in colour, and both were dignified during their lives with

the appellation of The Divine.

"I will pass over the many appropriate portraits which he painted of men,

and the portraits of women, though not the most distinguished for beauty,

in the character of Venus, to meet the fashion of the age in which he

lived; and notice only those works of mental power, which have raised him

to eminence in the class of refined artists. On this point, you will find

that his picture of St. Peter Martyr will justify the claim he has to

that rank.

"St. Peter the Martyr was the head of a religious sect: when on his way

from the confines of Germany to Milan with a companion, he was attacked by

one in opposition to his religious principles while passing through a

wood, and murdered. This is the subject of the picture. The prostrate

figure of the Saint, just fallen by a blow from the assassin, raises one

of his hands towards heaven, with a countenance of confidence in eternal

reward for the firmness of his faith; while the assassin grasps with his

left hand the mantle of his victim, the better to enable him, by his

uplifted sword in the other hand, to give the fatal blow to the fallen

saint. The companion is flying off in frantic dismay, and has received a

wound in the head from the assassin.

"The ferocious and determined action of the murderer bestriding the body

of the fallen saint, completes a group of figures which have not a rival

in art. The majestic trees, as well as the sable and rugged furze, form an

awful back-ground to this tragical scene, every way appropriate to the

subject. The heavenly messengers seen in the glory above, bearing the

palm branches as the emblem of reward for martyrdom, form the second

light; the first being the sky and cloud, which gives relief to the black

drapery of the wounded companion; while the rays of light from the

emanation above, sparkling on the dark branches of the trees as so many

diamonds, tie together by their light all the others from the top to the

bottom of the picture. The terror which the act of the murderer has

spread, is denoted by the speed of the horseman passing into the gloomy

recesses of a distant part of the forest.

"This picture, taken in the aggregate, is the first work in art in which

the human figure and landscape are combined as an historical landscape,

and where all the objects are the full size of nature.

"When I saw this picture at Venice in 1761, it was then in the same state

of purity as when the Bologna artists saw and studied it; and it is

recorded that Caracci declared this picture to be without fault. But we

have to lament the fatal effects which the goddess Bellona has ever

occasioned to the fine arts when she mounts her iron chariot of

destruction. When this picture fell under her rapacious power, on board a

French vessel passing down the Adriatic sea from Venice, one of our

cruisers chased the vessel into the port of Ancona, and a cannon-shot

pierced the pannel on which the picture was painted, and shivered a

portion of it into pieces.

"On its arrival at Paris, the committee of the fine arts found it

necessary to remove the painting from the pannel, and place it on canvass;

but the picture has lost the principal light.

"But to sum up Titian's powers of conception, no one has equalled him in

the propriety and fitness of colour. His pictures of St. Peter Martyr; the

David and Goliah; and the Last Supper, which is in the Escurial, stand in

the very highest rank in art. On the latter of these pictures being

finished, Titian in his letter to the King, announcing the circumstance,

says that it had been the labour of seven years. But by his original

sketch in oil colours, which I have the good fortune to possess, and by

which we may form an estimate, although the general effect and composition

are unrivalled, the characters of the heads of the apostles are not equal

to those of Leonardo da Vinci on the same subject.

"Antonio Allegri da Correggio is the sixth source, whose emanating powers

have illuminated the fine arts in the modern world. A superstitious mind,

on seeing his works, would suppose that he had received his tuition in

painting from the angels; as his figures seem to belong to another race of

being than man, and to have something too celestial for the forms of earth

to have presented to his view. Such have been the sayings of many on

seeing his works at Parma, but, to my conception, he painted from the

nature with which he was surrounded. His pictures of the Note, St.

Gierolimo, and the St. George, are evident proofs of the observation. In

the first of these pictures his mental conception shines supreme. It is

the idea of illuminating the child in the subject of our Saviour's

nativity. This splendid thought of giving light to the infant Christ,

whose divine mission was to illuminate the human mind from Pagan darkness,

no painter has since been so bold as to omit in any composition on the

same subject. The two latter pictures have all the beauties seen in the

paintings of this master, but they are deficient in appropriate character.

"The inspiring power of Correggio's works illuminated the genius of

Parmegiano, the energetic movements of whose graceful figures have never

been equalled, nor are they deficient in the moral influence of the art.

His Moses breaking the tables in a church at Parma, and his picture of the

vision of St. Gierolimo, now in England, are filled with the impress of

his intellectual powers, and stand pre-eminent over all his works.

"I have thus taken a survey of the works of art, which stand supreme among

the productions of Grecian and Italian genius, and which are the sources

from which the subsequent schools have derived most of the principles of

their celebrity.

"The papal vortex drew into it nearly all the various powers of human

refinement, and the inspiring influence of the first school in art having

centered in Rome gave it superiority, till the Constable Bourbon, by

sacking that city, obliged the fine arts to fly from their place, like

doves from the vultures: they never re-appeared at Rome but with

secondary power.

"About a century subsequent to their flight from Rome they were

re-animated, and formed the second school of art in Italy at the city of

Bologna under the Carracci, at the head of which was Ludovico. He and his

two relatives, Hanibal and Augustin Carracci, derived their principles

from the Venetian School, from Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoret, and

from the Lombard School of Correggio and Parmegiano. But the good sense of

Ludovico raised by them and himself a school of their own, which excelled

in the power of delineating the human figure, but which power gave to that

school more academical taste than mental character.

"Their great work was that in the convent of St. Michael in Boresco, near

Bologna; but this work has perished by damp, and the only remains on

record of what it was, are in the coarse prints which were done from

copies executed when it was in good condition. But grand as it must have

been according to the evidence of these prints, it was but an academical

composition.

"The picture by Ludovico, however, of our Saviour's Transfiguration on the

Mount, consisting of six figures double the size of life, has embraced

nearly all the points of art, and has placed the artist high in the first

class of painters.

"The masters of the Bolognese school going to Rome and other parts of

Italy, their successors at Bologna contented themselves by retailing the

several manners of the three Carracci--Guido, Domenichino and Guercino.

This system of retailing continued to descend from master to pupil, until

the school of Bologna sunk into irrecoverable imbecility.

"The most esteemed work in painting by Augustine Carracci is the Communion

of St. Jerom. It possesses grandeur of style, is bold in execution, and

the faces are not deficient in the appropriate expression of sensibility

towards the object before them. It was on the composition of this picture,

that Domenichino formed his on the same subject, so much celebrated as to

be considered next in merit to Raphael's Transfiguration. But fine as it

is admitted to be, we must say, as a borrowed idea, it lessens the merit

of the artist's originality of mind.

"The finest picture by Guido is in a church at Genoa, where he has brought

to a focus all the force of his powers in grace and beauty, with an

expression and execution of pencil rarely to be met with in art. The

subject is the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. The angels, who surround the

Virgin, have something in their faces so celestial, that they seem as if

they had really descended from Heaven, and sat to the artist while he

painted them. The Virgin herself seems to have had the same complacency.

The characters of the Apostles' heads are so exquisitely drawn and

painted, as to be without competition in the works of any other painter.

"The most esteemed picture by Guercino is is that of Santa Petranella,

which he painted for St. Peter's Church, at Rome.

"But, Gentlemen, if you aspire to excellence in your profession, you must

not rest your future studies on the excellence of any individual, however

exalted his name or genius; but, like the industrious bee, survey the

whole face of nature, and sip the sweets from every flower. When thus

enriched, lay up your acquisitions for future use; and with that

enrichment from Nature's inexhaustible source, examine the great works of

art to animate your feelings, and to excite your emulation. When you are

thus mentally enriched, and your hand practised to obey the powers of

your will, you will then find your pencils, or your chisels, as magic

wands, calling into view creations of your own, to adorn your name and

your country.

"I cannot, however, close this Discourse, without acknowledging a debt due

from this Academy, as well as that which is due to the Academy itself.

Soon after His present Majesty had ascended the throne, his benign regard

for the prosperity of the fine arts in these realms was manifested by his

gracious commands to establish this favoured Institution.

"The heart of every artist, and of the friend of art, glowed with mutual

congratulation to see a British King, for the first time, at the head of

the fine arts. His Majesty nominated forty members guardians to his infant

academy; and that they have been faithful to the trust which he graciously

reposed in them, the several apartments under this roof sufficiently

testify. The professors are highly endowed with accomplishments and

scientific knowledge in the several branches to which they are

respectively appointed; and the funds able to render relief to the

indigent and decayed artists, their widows and children.

"Who can reflect for a moment on the rare advantages here held out for

the instruction of youthful genius, and the aid given to the decayed,

their widows and helpless offspring, without feeling the grateful emotions

of the heart rise towards a patriot King, for giving to the arts this home

within the walls of a stately mansion, and towards the members of this

Academy, who, as his faithful guardians, have so ably fulfilled the

purposes for which the Institution was formed.

"United to what the Academicians have done, and are doing, another

honourable establishment, sanctioned by His Majesty for promoting the fine

arts, has been created and composed of noblemen and gentlemen whose known

zeal for the success of refined art is so conspicuous and honourable to

themselves.

"Such have been the efforts to give splendour to the fine arts in this

country, and such are the results which have attended these exertions;

that knowing, as we do, the movements of the arts on the Continent, I may

confidently say, that our annual exhibitions, both as to number and

taste, engrafted on nature and the fruit of mental conception, are such

that all the combined efforts in art on the continent of Europe in the

same time have not been able to equal. To such attainments, were those in

power but to bestow the crumbs from the national table to cherish the fine

arts, we might pledge ourselves, that the genius of Britain would, in a

few years, dispute the prize with the proudest periods of Grecian or

Italian art. But, Gentlemen, let us not despair; we have heard from this

place, the promise of patronage from the Prince Regent, the propitious

light of a morning that will open into perfect day, invigorating the

growth of all around--the assurance of a new era to the elevation of the

fine arts, in the United Kingdom."

Chap. XIII.

Mr. West's Visit to Paris.--His distinguished Reception by the

Members of the French Government.--Anecdote of Mr. Fox.--Origin

of the British Institution.--Anecdotes of Mr. Fox and Mr.

Percival.--Anecdote of the King.--History of the Picture of Christ

Healing the Sick.--Extraordinary Success attending the Exhibition of

the Copy in America.

During the Peace of Amiens, Mr. West, like every other person who

entertained any feeling of admiration for the fine arts, was desirous of

seeing that magnificent assemblage of paintings and sculptures, which

constituted the glory and the shame of Buonaparte's administration. He

accordingly furnished himself with letters from Lord Hawkesbury, then

Secretary of State, to Mr. Merry, the British representative at the

consular court; and also with introductions from Monsieur Otto, the French

minister in London, to the most distinguished members of his government.

On delivering Lord Hawkesbury's letters to Mr. Merry, that gentleman

informed him that one of the French ministers had, the preceding evening,

mentioned that Monsieur Otto had written in such terms respecting him,

that he and his colleagues were resolved to pay him every mark of the most

distinguished attention. Mr. Merry, therefore, advised Mr. West to call on

the several ministers himself with the letters, and leave them with his

card. As the object for which the Artist had procured these introductions

was only to obtain, with more facility, access to the different galleries,

he was rather embarrassed by this information; and would have declined

delivering the letters altogether; but Mr. Merry said, that, as his

arrival in Paris was already known to the government, he could not with

any propriety avoid paying his respects to the ministers.

After delivering his letters and card accordingly, the hotel where he

resided was, in the course of the week, visited by all the most

distinguished of the French statesmen; and he had the honour of being

invited to dine with them successively. At these parties, the

conversation turned very much on the importance of the arts to all nations

aspiring to fame and eminence; and he very soon perceived, that the vast

collection of trophies which adorned the Louvre, had not been formed so

much for ostentatious exhibition, as with a view to furnish models of

study for artists; constituting, in fact, but the elementary part of a

grand system of national decoration designed by Buonaparte, and by which

he expected to leave such memorials to posterity as would convince the

world that his magnificence was worthy of his military achievements.

It happened at this particular period, that the galleries of the Louvre

were closed to the public for some time, but a deputation from the Central

Administration of the Arts, under whose care the collections were

particularly placed, waited on Mr. West, and informed him, that orders

were given to admit him and his friends at all times. Denon was at the

head of this deputation; and in the course of the conversation which then

took place, that accomplished enthusiast explained to Mr. West more

circumstantially the extensive views entertained by the French government

with respect to the arts, mentioning several of the superb schemes which

were formed by the First Consul for the decoration of the capital.

This information made a very deep impression on the mind of Mr. West, and

he felt extremely sorrowful when he reflected, that hitherto the British

government had done nothing decidedly with a view to promote the

cultivation of those arts, which may justly be said to constitute the

olive wreath on the brows of every great nation. Mr. Fox and Sir Francis

Baring, who were at this same time in Paris, happened soon after the

departure of Monsieur Denon to call, and they went with Mr. West to the

Louvre, where, as they were walking in the gallery, he explained to them

what he had heard. An interesting discussion took place in consequence;

and Mr. West endeavoured to explain in what manner he considered the

cultivation of the fine arts of the utmost importance even in a commercial

point of view to England.

Mr. Fox paid great attention to what he said, and observed, in a tone of

regret, "I have been rocked in the cradle of politics from my infancy, and

never before was so much struck with the advantage, even in a political

bearing, of the fine arts to the prosperity, as well as the renown, of a

kingdom; and I do assure you, Mr. West, that if ever I have it in my power

to influence our government to promote the arts, the conversation that we

have had to-day shall not be forgotten." Sir Francis Baring also concurred

in opinion, that it was really become an imperious duty, on the part of

the British nation, to do something for a class of art that, undoubtedly,

tended to improve the beauty, and multiply the variety of manufactures,

independent of all monumental considerations.

When Mr. West had returned home, the subject was renewed with Sir Francis

Baring; and he endeavoured to set on foot the formation of a society,

which should have the encouragement of the line arts for its object, and

thought that government might be induced to give it pecuniary assistance.

Sir Thomas Barnard took up the idea with great zeal; and several meetings

took place at Mr. West's house, at which Mr. Charles Long and Sir Abraham

Hume were present, which terminated in the formation of that association

that now constitutes the British Institution, in Pall Mall. Mr. Long

undertook to confer with Mr. Pitt, who was then again in power, on the

subject, and the proposal was received by him with much apparent

sincerity. But a disastrous series of public events about the same time

commenced: the attention of the Minister was absorbed in the immediate

peril of the state; and he fell a victim to his anxieties, without having

had it in his power to further the objects of the association.

At the death of his great rival, Mr. Fox came into office; and he soon

after called on Mr. West, and, reminding him of the conversation in the

gallery of the Louvre, said, "It is my earnest intention, as soon as I am

firmly seated on the saddle, to redeem the promise that I then made." But

he also was frustrated in his intentions, and fell a sacrifice to disease,

without being able to take any step in the business. In the mean time,

the Shaksperian Gallery was offered for sale; and the gentlemen interested

in this project raised a sum of money, by subscription, and purchased that

building with the intention of making it the approach to a proposed

national gallery.

From Mr. Percival the scheme met with a far different reception. He

listened to the representations which Mr. West made to him with a

repressive coldness, it might almost be said with indifference, had it not

been marked with a decided feeling; for he seemed to consider the whole

objects of the British Institution, and the reasons adduced in support of

the claims which the interests of the arts had on government, as the

visionary purposes of vain enthusiasts. It was not within the small

compass of that respectable individual's capacity to consider any generous

maxim as founded in what _he_ deemed wisdom, or to comprehend, that the

welfare of nations could be promoted by any other means than precedents of

office, decisions of courts, and Acts of Parliament. An incident,

however, occurred, which induced him to change his opinion of the utility

of the fine arts.

At the anniversary dinner, in 1812, before the opening of the Academy, he

was present, with other public characters. On the right hand of the

President was seated the Lord Chancellor Eldon, on his left Lord

Liverpool, and on the right of the Chancellor Mr. Percival. A conversation

took place, naturally inspired by the circumstances of the meeting, in

which Mr. West recapitulated what he had formerly so often urged; and Mr.

Percival, perceiving the impression which his observations made on those

to whom they were particularly addressed, requested him to put his ideas

on the subject in writing, and he would lay it before the Prince Regent.

This took place on Saturday; on Wednesday Mr. West delivered his memorial;

on the Friday following Mr. Percival was assassinated; and since that time

nothing farther has been done in the business.

It is perhaps necessary to notice here, that when it was first proposed to

the King to sanction the establishment of the British Institution with

his patronage, he made some objection, conceiving that it was likely to

interfere with the Royal Academy, which he justly considered with the

partiality of a parent. But on Mr. West explaining to him that the two

institutions were very different in their objects, the Academy being

formed for the instruction of pupils, and the other for the encouragement

of artists arrived at maturity in their profession, His Majesty readily

consented to receive the deputation of the association appointed to wait

on him in form to solicit his patronage. Except, however, the honour of

the King's name, the British Institution, formed expressly for the

improvement of the public taste with a view to the encouragement of the

arts, has received neither aid nor countenance as yet from the state.

Before concluding this summary account of the origin and establishment of

the British Institution, it may be expected of me to take some notice of

the circumstances connected with the purchase and exhibition of Mr. West's

picture of Christ Healing the Sick in the Temple; an event which formed

an era in the history of the arts in Britain, and contributed in no small

degree to promote the interests of the Institution. Perhaps the exhibition

of no work of art ever attracted so much attention, or was attended with

so much pecuniary advantage to the proprietors; independent of which, the

history of the picture is itself interesting.

Some years before, a number of gentlemen, of the society of Quakers in

Philadelphia, set on foot a subscription for the purpose of erecting an

hospital for the sick poor in that city. Among others to whom they applied

for contributions in this country, they addressed themselves to Mr. West.

He informed them, however, that his circumstances did not permit him to

give so liberal a sum as he could wish, but that if they would provide a

proper place in the building, he would paint a picture for it as his

subscription, which perhaps would prove of more advantage than all the

money he could afford to bestow, and with this intention he began the

_Christ Healing the Sick_. While the work was going forward, it attracted

a great deal of notice in his rooms, and finally had the effect of

inducing the association of the British Institution to make him an offer

of three thousand guineas for the picture. Mr. West accepted the offer,

but on condition that he should be at liberty to make a copy for the

hospital at Philadelphia, and to introduce into the copy such alterations

and improvements as he might think fit. This copy he also executed, and

the success which attended the exhibition of it in America was so

extraordinary, that the proceeds have enabled the committee of the

hospital to enlarge the building for the reception of no less than thirty

additional patients.

Chap. XIV.

Reflections.--Offer of Knighthood.--Mr. Wyatt chosen President of the

Academy.--Restoration of Mr. West to the Chair.--Proceedings

respecting the Pictures for Windsor Castle.--Mr. West's Letter to the

King.--Orders to proceed with the Pictures.--The King's Illness.--Mr.

West's Allowance cut off,--and the Pictures countermanded.--Death of

Mrs. West.--Death of the Artist.

Hitherto it has been my pleasant task to record the series of prosperous

incidents by which Mr. West was raised to the highest honours of his

profession; and had he survived the publication of this volume, I should

have closed the narrative with the last chapter. But his death, which

took place after the proof was sent to me for his inspection, has

removed an obligation which I had promised to respect during his life,

while it was understood between us that the circumstances to which it

related were to be carefully preserved for a posthumous publication. The

topics are painful, and calculated to afford a far different view of

human nature from that which I have ever desired to contemplate: I do

not allude to those things, connected with political matters, in which

Mr. West was only by accident a witness, but of transactions which

personally affected himself.

During the time that he was engaged in the series of great pictures for

Windsor Castle, he enjoyed, as I have already mentioned, an easy and

confidential intercourse with the King, and I ought, perhaps, to have

stated earlier, that when he was chosen President of the Royal Academy,

the late Duke of Gloucester called on him, and mentioned that His Majesty

was desirous to know if the honour of knighthood would be acceptable. Mr.

West immediately replied, that no man had a greater respect for political

honours and distinctions than himself, but that he really thought he had

already earned by his pencil more eminence than could be conferred on him

by that rank. "The chief value," said he, "of titles are, that they serve

to preserve in families a respect for those principles by which such

distinctions were originally obtained. But simple knighthood, to a man who

is at least already as well known as he could ever hope to be from that

honour, is not a legitimate object of ambition. To myself, then, Your

Royal Highness must perceive the title could add no dignity, and as it

would perish with myself, it could add none to my family. But were I

possessed of a fortune, independent of my profession, sufficient to enable

my posterity to maintain the rank, I think that with my hereditary

descent, and the station I occupy among artists, a more permanent title

than that of knighthood might become a desirable object. As it is,

however, that cannot be, and I have been thus explicit with Your Royal

Highness that no misconception may exist on the subject." The Duke was not

only pleased with the answer, but took Mr. West cordially by both the

hands, and said, "You have justified the opinion which the King has of

you, and His Majesty will be delighted with your answer;" and when Mr.

West next saw the King his reception was unusually warm and friendly.

But notwithstanding all these enviable circumstances, Mr. West was doomed

to share some of the consequences which naturally attach to all persons

in immediate connection with the great. After his return from Paris, it

was alleged, that the honourable reception which he allowed himself to

receive from the French statesmen had offended the King. The result of

this was the temporary elevation of the late Mr. Wyatt to the President's

chair, merely, as I think, because that gentleman was then the royal

architect; for it would be difficult to point out the merits which, as an

artist, entitled him to that honour. But the election, so far from giving

satisfaction in the quarter where it was expected to be the most

acceptable, only excited displeasure; and Mr. West was, in due time,

restored to his proper seat in the Academy.

This, as a public affair, attracted a good deal of notice at the time; but

it was, in its effects, of far less consequence to Mr. West than a private

occurrence, originating in circumstances that tend to throw a light on

some of the proceedings that were deemed expedient to be adopted during

the occasional eclipses of the King's understanding.

For upwards of twenty years Mr. West had received all his orders from the

King in person: the prices of the pictures which he painted were adjusted

with His Majesty; and the whole embellishment of Windsor Castle, in what

related to the scriptural and historical pictures, was concerted between

them, without the interference of any third party. But, in the summer of

1801, when the Court was at Weymouth, Mr. Wyatt called on Mr. West, and

said, that he was requested by authority to inform him, that the pictures

painting for His Majesty's chapel at Windsor should be suspended till

further orders.

Mr. West was much surprised at this communication: but, upon interrogating

Mr. Wyatt as to his authority, he found that it was not from the King; and

he afterwards discovered that the orders were given at Weymouth by the

Queen, the late Earl of Roslyn being present. What was the state of His

Majesty's health at that time is now a matter of historical curiosity; but

this extraordinary proceeding deserves particular notice. It rendered the

studies of the best part of the Artist's life useless, and deprived him

of that honourable provision, the fruit of his talents and industry, on

which he had counted for the repose of his declining years. For some time

it affected him deeply, and he was at a loss what steps to take; at last,

however, in reflecting on the marked friendship and favour which the King

had always shown him, he addressed to His Majesty a letter, of which the

following is a copy of the rough draft, being the only one preserved: I

give it verbatim:--

"_The following is the Substance of a Letter I had the honour of writing

to His Majesty, taken at Weymouth, by the conveyance of Mr. James Wyatt._

"To the King's Most Excellent Majesty.

"Gracious Sire, Newman St. Sept. 26. 1801.

"On the fifteenth of last month Mr. Wyatt signified to me Your Majesty's

pleasure,--'That the pictures by me now painting for His Majesty's chapel

at Windsor, should be suspended until further orders.' I feel it a duty I

owe to that communication, to lay before Your Majesty, by the return of

Mr. Wyatt to Weymouth, a statement of those pictures which I have painted

to add to those for the chapel, mentioned in the account I had the honour

to transmit to Your Majesty in 1797 by the hands of Mr. Gabriel Mathias.

Since that period I have finished three pictures, began several others,

and composed the remainder of the subjects for the chapel, on the progress

of Revealed Religion, from its commencement to its completion; and the

whole arranged with that circumspection from the Four Dispensations, into

five-and-thirty compositions, that the most scrupulous amongst the various

religious sects in this country, about admitting pictures into churches,

must acknowledge them as truths, or the Scriptures fabulous. Those are

subjects so replete with dignity, character, and expression, as demanded

the historian, the commentator, and the accomplished painter, to bring

them into view. Your Majesty's gracious complacency and commands for my

pencil on that extensive subject stimulated my humble abilities, and I

commenced the work with zeal and enthusiasm. Animated by your commands,

gracious Sire, I renewed my professional studies, and burnt my midnight

lamp to attain and give that polish at the close of Your Majesty's chapel,

which has since marked my subsequent scriptural pictures. Your Majesty's

known zeal for promoting religion, and the elegant arts, had enrolled your

virtues with all the civilized world; and your gracious protection of my

pencil had given to it a celebrity throughout Europe, and spread a

knowledge of the great work on Revealed Religion, which my pencil was

engaged on, under Your Majesty's patronage: it is that work which all

Christendom looks with a complacency for its completion.

"Being distinguished by Your Majesty's benignity at an early period as a

painter, and chosen by those professors highly endowed in the three

branches of the fine arts to fill their highest station, and sanctioned by

Your Majesty's signature in their choice;--in that station, I have been,

for more than ten years, zealous in promoting merit in those three

branches of art, which constitutes the views of Your Majesty's

establishment for cultivating their growth. The ingenious artists have

received my professional aid, and my galleries and my purse have been open

to their studies and their distresses. The breath of envy, nor the whisper

of detraction, never defiled my lips, nor the want of morality my

character, and, through life, a strict adherer to truth; a zealous admirer

of Your Majesty's virtues and goodness of heart, the exalted virtues of

Her Majesty the Queen, and the high accomplishments of others of Your

Majesty's illustrious family, have been the theme of my delight; and their

gracious complacency my greatest pleasure and consolation for many years,

with which I was honoured by many instances of friendly notice, and their

warm attachment to the fine arts.

"With these feelings of high sensibility, with which my breast has ever

been inspired, I feel with great concern the suspension given by Mr. Wyatt

to the work on Revealed Religion, my pencil had advanced to adorn

Windsor-Castle. If, gracious Sire, this suspension is meant to be

permanent, myself and the fine arts have to lament. For to me it will be

ruinous, and, to the energetic artist, in the highest branches of his

professional pursuits--a damp in the hope of more exalted minds, of

patronage in the refined departments in painting. But I have this in

store, for the grateful feeling of my heart, that, in the thirty-five

years by which my pencil has been honoured by Your Majesty's commands, a

great body of historical and scriptural compositions will be found in Your

Majesty's possession, in the churches, and in the country. Their

professional claims may be humble, but they have been produced by a loyal

subject of Your Majesty, which may give them some claim to respect,

similar works not having been attained before in this country by a

subject; and this I will assert as my claim, that Your Majesty did not

bestow your patronage and commands on an ungrateful and a lazy man, but on

him who had a high sense of Your Majesty's honours and Your Majesty's

interests in all cases, as a loyal and dutiful subject, as well as

servant, to Your Majesty's gracious commands; and I humbly beg Your

Majesty to be assured that

"I am,

"With profound duty,

"Your Majesty's grateful

"BENJAMIN WEST."

To this letter Mr. West received no answer; but on the return of the Court

to Windsor, he went to the Castle, and obtained a private audience of the

King on the subject, by which it appeared that His Majesty was not at all

acquainted with the communication of which Mr. Wyatt was the bearer, nor

had he received Mr. West's letter. However, the result of the interview

was, that the King said, "Go on with your work, West: go on with the

pictures, and I will take care of you."

This was the last interview that Mr. West was permitted to enjoy with his

early, constant, and to him truly royal patron; but he continued to

execute the pictures, and in the usual quarterly payments received the

thousand pounds _per ann._. till His Majesty's final superannuation,

when, without any intimation whatever, on calling to receive it, he was

informed that it had been stopped, and that the intended design of the

chapel of Revealed Religion was suspended.