In the year 1793, the Rev. R. A. Bromley, rector of St. Mildred's in the

Poultry, issued proposals for publishing by subscription, two large

quarto volumes of "A Philosophical and Critical History of the Fine

Arts, more especially Painting;" and at the instance of Mr. West, the

Royal Academy subscribed for a copy. The first volume appeared early in

1794, and the author, after having discussed and criticised the works of

Michael Angelo and Raphael, thus expresses himself:--"The dignity of

moral instruction is degraded whenever the pencil is employed on

frivolous, whimsical, and unmeaning subjects. On this head, it is to be

feared, there ever will be too much cause for complaint, because there

ever will be persons incapable of solidity, although very capable of

executing this art with power: strength of understanding, and ability in

art or science, are very different things; they are derived from

different sources, and they are perfectly independent of each other. The

one can no more be instrumental to the communication of the other, than

either can communicate temper or disposition. The finest art in the

world may therefore be combined with the lightest and most superficial

mind. Books are written of a light and fantastic nature by those who

cannot write otherwise, and yet will write something. And so it is with

painting; the mind of the artist can but give such subjects as are

consecutaneous to its turn.--_The Nightmare_, _Little Red Ridinghood_,

_The Shepherd's Dream_, or any dream that is not marked in authentic

history as combined with the important dispensations of Providence, and

many other pieces of a visionary and fanciful nature, are speculations

of as exalted a stretch in the contemplation of such a mind, as the

finest lessons as were ever drawn from religion, or morals, or useful

history; and yet the painter who should employ his time on such

subjects, would certainly amuse the intelligent no more than the man who

should make those subjects the topics of a serious discourse. But what

good has the world, or what honour has the art, at any time derived from

such light and fantastical speculations? If it be right to follow

Nature, there is nothing of her here,--all that is presented to us is a

reverie of the brain. If it be allowable to cultivate fancy, that which

has little or nothing of nature in its composition becomes ridiculous. A

man may carry the flights of imagination even within the walks of the

chastest art or science, till they become mere waking dreams, as wild as

the conceits of a madman. The author of Observations on _Fresnoy de

Arte_ very properly calls these persons, 'Libertines of painting:' as

there are libertines of religion, who have no other law but the

vehemence of their own inclinations, so these have no other model, he

says, but a rodomontado genius, which shews us a wild or savage nature

that is not of our acquaintance, but of a new creation.

"If not in subjects altogether, yet in manner, one of the first examples

of this kind, if not the very first, appeared about the latter end of

the sixteenth century, in a Neapolitan, who is commonly known by the

name of Giuseppe d'Arpino."

After having thus openly condemned some of the subjects painted by Sir

Joshua Reynolds and Fuseli, the author shortly after launches out in

unqualified praise of the works of West, particularly his "Death of

Wolfe," of which he gives an elaborate description, and concludes by

considering it as "one of the most genuine models of historic painting

in the world." The series of pictures painted by Barry, which adorns the

great room of the Society of Arts in the Adelphi, are also eulogized by

him.

It was generally known to the academicians, that Mr. Bromley had

assisted Mr. West in arranging and getting up the discourses which the

latter delivered to the Royal Academy; and it was conjectured that Mr.

West had given his friend some of the observations on modern art, even

those in praise of his own works. These circumstances, and Mr. Bromley's

strictures upon a living artist (Fuseli), disgusted many of the members

of the Royal Academy, and they requested Fuseli not only to animadvert

upon them, but to prove (what he broadly asserted) that Mr. Bromley did

not understand the subject, and that he was equally ignorant of the

classical authorities which he quoted in his Dissertation upon Ancient

Art. Fuseli immediately undertook the task, and published in a journal,

a letter addressed to Mr. Bromley, pointing out a variety of errors in

his work. I regret, after having employed much industry to find this,

that I have not succeeded. Mr. Bromley answered it by publishing two

letters in the Morning Herald of the 12th and 18th of March 1794, in

which he deeply complains of the injury he sustained, as an author, by

the observations of Fuseli; admits that several of these are correct

which regard classical quotations, but shields himself by stating that

his manuscript was right, and that the errors are to be attributed to

the printer.

Fuseli's letter, however, made so deep an impression, that the Academy

were about to reject the book altogether, as unworthy a place in their

library; but after some debate, they came to the resolution to allow the

first volume to remain there, but to withdraw the subscription for the

second. And on the 20th of February, 1794, at a general meeting of

Academicians, they came to this resolution, "That Mr. Fuseli has

conducted himself properly in his remarks on Mr. Bromley's book." In

consequence of the opposition of Fuseli, the second volume was never

published.

In 1794, Fuseli painted for Mr. Seward "The Conspiracy of Catiline."

This gentleman was so much pleased with the picture, that he wrote the

following verses, which were published in the "Whitehall Evening Post,"

in the December that year, and copied into the "European Magazine, for

January 1795."

TO HENRY FUSELI, ESQ. R.A.

ON HIS LATE PICTURE OF THE CONSPIRACY OF CATILINE.

Artist sublime! with every talent blest,

That Buonarroti's great and awful mind confest;

Whose magic colours, and whose varying line

Embody things, or human or divine;

Behold the effort of thy mastering hand,

See Catilina's parricidal band,

By the lamp's tremulous, sepulchral light,

Profane the sacred silence of the night;

To Hell's stern King their curs'd libations pour,

While the rich goblet foams with human gore.

See how, in full and terrible array,

Their fatal poignards they at once display,

Direly resolving, at their Chief's behest,

To sheath them only in their Country's breast.

Too well pourtray'd, the scene affects our sight

With indignation, horror, and affright.

Then quit these orgies, and with ardent view

Fam'd Angelo's advent'rous track pursue;

Let him extend thy[44] terrible career

Beyond the visible diurnal sphere,

Burst Earth's strong barrier, seek th' abyss of Hell,

Where sad Despair and Anguish ever dwell;

In glowing colours to our eyes disclose

The monster Sin, the cause of all our woes;

To our appall'd and tortur'd senses bring

Death's horrid image, Terror's baneful King;

And at the last, the solemn, dreadful hour,

We all may bless thy pencil's saving power;

Our danger from thy pious colours see,

And owe eternity of bliss to thee.

Then to the Heaven of heavens ascend, pourtray

The wonders of th' effulgent realms of day;

Around thy pallet glorious tints diffuse,

Mix'd from th' ethereal arch's vivid hues;

With every grace of beauty and of form,

Inspire thy mind, and thy rich fancy warm.

Cherub and seraph, now, in "burning row,"

Before the throne of Heaven's high Monarch bow,

And, tun'd to golden wires, their voices raise

In everlasting strains of rapt'rous praise.

Blest[45] commentator of our Nation's Bard,

Long lov'd with every reverence of regard,

Whose matchless Muse dares sing in strains sublime,

Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme!

The critic's painful efforts, cold and dead,

Merely inform the slow and cautious head;

Whilst thy effusions, like Heaven's rapid fire,

Dart through the heart, and kindred flames inspire,

And at one flash, to our astonish'd eyes,

Objects of horror or delight arise.

Proceed, my friend; a Nation safely trust,

To merit splendidly and quickly just;

She the due tribute to thy toils shall pay,

And lavishly her gratitude display;

The Bard himself, from his Elysium bowers

Contemplating thy pencil's plastic powers,

Well pleas'd, shall see his fame extend with thine,

And gladly hail thee, as himself, divine. S.

In the years 1793 and 1794, Fuseli painted four pictures for

"Woodmason's Illustrations of Shakspeare,"--two from subjects in the

Midsummer Night's Dream, and the other two from Macbeth. Three of these

are known by engravings, namely, Oberon squeezing the juice of the

flowers into Titania's eyes while she sleeps,--Titania awake, attended

by fairies, and in raptures with Bottom wearing the ass's head,--and

Macbeth meeting the Witches on the heath.--The fourth, Macbeth with the

Witches at the cauldron, was chosen by Sharpe, and some progress made by

him in the engraving of it, when the scheme was abandoned. Fuseli was

much gratified by my having subsequently purchased this picture, and

remarked, "You have another of my best poetical conceptions. When

Macbeth meets with the witches on the heath, it is terrible, because he

did not expect the supernatural visitation; but when he goes to the cave

to ascertain his fate, it is no longer a subject of terror: hence I have

endeavoured to supply what is deficient in the poetry. To say nothing of

the general arrangement of my picture, which in composition is

altogether triangular, (and the triangle is a mystical figure,) I have

endeavoured to shew a colossal head rising out of the abyss, and that

head Macbeth's likeness. What, I would ask, would be a greater object

of terror to you, if, some night on going home, you were to find

yourself sitting at your own table, either writing, reading, or

otherwise employed? would not this make a powerful impression on your

mind?" Fuseli always complained of not being able to effect all he

wished in these pictures, in consequence of being limited to shape and

size, as it was stipulated by Woodmason, that those painted for his

gallery should be 5 feet 6 inches high, by 4 feet 6 inches broad.

It was not until his own means were exhausted that Fuseli could bring

himself to solicit pecuniary assistance from others for the

accomplishment of his plan of the "Milton Gallery." As soon, however, as

it was understood that he must either give it up, or be supported in it,

six of his intimate friends (in 1797) immediately came forward, and each

agreed to advance him fifty pounds per annum, until the task was

completed. It gives me pleasure to place the names of these gentlemen on

record. Messrs. Coutts, Lock, Roscoe, G. Steevens, Seward, and Johnson.

It was stipulated that they were to be paid out of the proceeds of the

exhibition of the Milton Gallery, or take pictures or drawings to the

value of their contributions. Mr. Coutts, in addition to his annuity,

with that characteristic spirit of true liberality which ever marked his

conduct, and with that modesty which generally accompanies such

feelings, made a donation of a hundred pounds, under the injunction that

his name should not appear in the transaction; and Mr. Roscoe gave

proofs of the sincere friendship which he entertained for the artist, by

not only buying pictures to a considerable amount, but also by inducing

his friends and connexions at Liverpool to make purchases. The interest

which Mr. Roscoe took in Fuseli's labours is shown in the following

letter:--

"MY DEAR FRIEND,

"I am much mortified that I shall not have the pleasure of seeing

you in Liverpool; but, at the same time, if your bringing your

works before the public next Spring depends on your close attention

to them at present, it will, I confess, in a great degree reconcile

me to my disappointment. I look upon this as the period which will

shew you to the public in your true light, and obtain for you that

universal suffrage which will secure you a great and lasting

reputation. Inclosed is a bill from Clarke's for a second hundred

pounds, of which you will be pleased to acknowledge the receipt by

a line, when it comes to hand. I consider you as connected in

London with friends of more liberality than are generally met with,

and I esteem you as a cautious and provident man, for an artist;

notwithstanding which, I may be excused in suggesting to you, that

this exhibition should be wholly on your own account, and should

not be connected with any subsequent plan that may be proposed for

publication of prints from the pictures, &c. With respect to the

mode of exhibiting the pictures, I still think the least expensive

will be to stucco the room with pannels, with broad mouldings, in

imitation of frames, which may be painted in a bold style, to suit

the pictures. If this could be done in imitation of bronze, it

would have a grave and better effect for such subjects, than if you

even went to the expense of gilding, which would be enormous. I

mention this, because, if you think the plan likely to answer, the

work should be done some time before, that it may be sufficiently

dry. Perhaps all this may be unnecessary, and you have already

decided on a better plan; but I know you will attribute it to its

proper motive.

"My wife has been unwell for some time past, owing, I believe, to

nursing too long. Apropos--I have just translated a poem on this

subject, in two capitoli from the Italian of Luigi Tansillo, in

which he endeavours to prevail on the ladies to undertake that

important duty to their children. Tansillo was contemporary with

Ariosto, &c., and for purity of style is excelled by few of his

countrymen. I have sent my version to Shepherd, to revise, &c.; but

am yet undecided whether I should publish it.[46]--Adieu, my dear

friend, and believe me very truly and affectionately yours,

"W. Roscoe."

"Liverpool, 12th Dec. 1797."

The assistance afforded by these friends enabled Fuseli to carry on

steadily the grand work on which he was engaged, and to this, most

probably, the public owe many of the pictures of which the Milton

Gallery was composed. After acknowledging his gratitude to one of them

(Mr. Roscoe), he thus expresses himself, "I shall now endeavour to carry

through a work which I consider a monument of myself; whatever I may be,

_magnis tamen excido ausis_, if I do not succeed to give it excellence."

In 1795, Fuseli assisted his friend Mr. Seward by contributing several

articles to an amusing and instructive work known by the appellation of

"Seward's Anecdotes."

In 1796, he painted a picture for Macklin's Gallery, "The Vision of the

Candlesticks," from the Revelations of St. John. For this he chose what

may be considered the most sublime moment, the sudden appearance of the

apparition and the trance of the saint; but he always regretted that he

was limited to size, and tied too much to biblical precision by Mr.

Macklin, instead of being allowed to exercise the full range of his

fancy on a canvass of larger dimensions.

In the autumn of this year (1796), Mr. and Mrs. Fuseli, with Messrs.

Opie and Bonnycastle, passed a few days at Windsor; the object of the

two artists was not only to have some relaxation and to see the

pictures, but to examine critically the cartoons of Raphael, which were

at this time in the Castle. An anecdote or two will show the disposition

of the three men. In their journey down by the stage-coach, they were

much annoyed by an outside passenger placing his legs over one of the

windows. Opie at first gently remonstrated with him; this, however, not

producing the desired effect, he pinched his legs, but yet the nuisance

continued; at length the coach stopped at an inn. Opie, being enraged,

exerted his Herculean strength, and pulled the person to the ground; but

this did not produce any rencontre.--When at Windsor, the two painters

endeavoured to palm the Scriptural subjects of West upon Bonnycastle for

the cartoons of Raphael; but although he was not a competent judge of

works of art, yet he was too well read not to detect their intentions.

Bonnycastle, however, wished to show his critical knowledge, and

ventured upon the observation usually made on the cartoon of "The

Miraculous Draught of Fishes," that the boat was not sufficiently large

for the men, much less for the lading. Fuseli instantly answered, "By

G--d, Bonnycastle, that is a part of the miracle." Being at Windsor,

they went to Eton College: here the youths assembled about them, asking

the usual questions; "Do you wish to see the Library, Gentlemen," and

such like. Fuseli amused himself by answering them in Latin; but Opie,

in his usual gruff manner, said to the most prominent among them, "What

do you want? I cannot make out to what class of beings you belong, being

too little for a man, and too large for a monkey." This was resented as

an insult by the mass; and it was only by the great physical powers of

Bonnycastle and Opie, that they disengaged themselves and their

companion from the crowd of boys who surrounded them. Fuseli was highly

provoked, and was apprehensive also of personal violence; and when he

got without the barrier, almost breathless with rage, he sat on a large

stone by the side of the road and exclaimed, "I now wish I was the Grand

Sultan, for I would order my vizier to cut off the heads of these

urchins from the rising of the sun until the going down thereof."

By indefatigable industry, Fuseli had now made considerable progress in

the pictures which were to compose the "Milton Gallery," and those

friends, as well as many of the artists who had been allowed to see them

as he proceeded, felt confident of the ultimate success of the

exhibition. With such feelings his intimate friend Sir Thomas Lawrence

offered to contribute a picture gratuitously, and Mr. Opie tendered his

services, not only to paint some pictures, but to manage the concern;

under the condition, however, that he was to be a sharer in the profits.

These offers Fuseli politely but prudently declined, being determined

not to have any assistance whatever in a work, which he wished should be

a monument of himself, and feeling, perhaps, that contrarieties of style

would not be beneficial to the exhibition as a whole; for his aim was

more to give the sublime, quiescent, and playful imagery of the poet in

his own powerful manner, than to engage attention by colour or a

brilliant execution of the pictures. These observations are not however

intended to depreciate the merits of the splendid picture painted from

Milton by Sir Thomas Lawrence, of "Satan calling up his Legions," which

for a long period was a prominent feature in the collection of his Grace

the late Duke of Norfolk, at his house in St. James's Square, and which,

by the style of drawing as well as its tone of colour, abundantly prove,

that this artist would have been equally distinguished for his powers in

treating epic subjects as in portraits, if he had employed his pencil

exclusively thereon.

As soon as the intended exhibition was announced by the daily prints,

but before the doors of the "Milton Gallery" were opened, the public

mind was attempted to be biassed very unfairly by paragraphs in the

newspapers calumniating the subjects as well as the execution of the

pictures. These critics considered that he had attempted to represent on

canvass scenes adapted only to poetic imagery, and thus transgressed the

limits of the imitative art, and that his figures were distorted, and

his colouring wanting both in force and brilliancy. As it was evident

that these observations could have proceeded only from some persons who

had seen the pictures through the kindness of the painter, Fuseli

considered his confidence betrayed and interests injured by those who

came under the mask of friendship; and he always held the opinion that

the paragraphs in question were written by or at the instance of one or

more of the then members of the Royal Academy.

As the mass of the public form their judgment of works of art more by

what they are told by the diurnal prints, than by what they feel or

know, there is no doubt that these unwarrantable criticisms had their

effect in checking the desire of many persons to visit the exhibition.

Fuseli, however, was sanguine as to the ultimate success of the "Milton

Gallery," for he had yet to learn that he who had delineated the sublime

and playful imagery of the poet, was like the poet himself to accomplish

his design under every discountenance, and in the end to gain little or

nothing by his performance. For, with feelings strongly in opposition to

the opinion of Dr. Johnson, that "we read Milton for instruction, retire

harassed and overburthened, and look elsewhere for recreation; we

desert our master and seek for companions;" Fuseli wrote in large

letters in the margin of a copy of the "Lives of the Poets," now in my

possession, in allusion to the passage in question, "I DO NOT." Some of

the judicious friends of Fuseli formed a more correct notion of the

feelings of the public than himself, and were not therefore so sanguine

as to the success of his exhibition; this is manifest by the following

letter from Mr. Roscoe.

"Allerton, 24th May, 1799.

"MY DEAR FRIEND,

"My friend and neighbour Mr. Shepherd, who is already known to you,

being about to take his departure with Mrs. Shepherd and her sister

on a journey to London, I avail myself of the opportunity it

affords of informing you, without being questioned on the subject,

that I am yet in existence, and, what I know you will be glad to

hear, in better health, and consequently better spirits, than when

I last wrote to you. From the experience I have hitherto had of my

new residence, it promises to be productive of every advantage

which I expected to find from it:--good air, opportunity or rather

necessity of exercise, and a degree of retirement which is

indispensably necessary to my peace of mind. The latter you will

perhaps believe when I tell you that I am a mile and a half from

any neighbour; but, at that distance, I have on every side of me

some of my most intimate and valuable friends. Such being the

advantage I enjoy here, you will not wonder that I am exerting

myself to secure the means of remaining here, without the necessity

of further interference in the tumult of the town, which I hope in

a short time I shall be able to do. I consider it as one great

secret in the art of living, especially at a time when all the

necessaries of life are so high, to obtain subsistence immediately

from the earth, and, accordingly, I am surrounded with cows, hogs,

turkies, geese, cocks, hens, and pigeons, which, according to the

good old maxim, (take, Peter, kill and eat,) I plunder and

slaughter without mercy; and shall be very angry with you if you

tell me (as is not unlikely) that I am keeping up my paltry

existence at the expense of the lives of a number of beings, each

of which is ten times happier than myself.

"I was struck with the sight of an advertisement in the Courier,

which announced to me, in common with all the world, that the

Exhibition of the Pictures of Milton would be opened in a few

days. I rejoice to find your exertions so nearly brought to a

conclusion, and I hope I may say, so nearly crowned with success. I

have sometimes regretted that your intention of painting a series

of pictures from Shakspeare was frustrated; but, after what I have

seen of Milton, I am convinced that it was he alone could have

afforded sufficient scope for your powers. I will not pretend to

prophesy, _nor, to say the truth, have I any very high opinion of

the taste of the present day_; but if the public are insensible to

the feast which will now be spread before them, I shall be wholly

hopeless of their amendment. That they will see with indifference

is impossible; and this circumstance alone is favourable, however

they may be induced to decide.

"Believe me, my dear friend, I do not turn a deaf ear to the claims

you have on my friendship and affection; and if I should be able to

produce a few lines worthy of the subject, there is nothing I

should do with so much pleasure as to express the opinion I have of

your talents.

"I am affectionately your's,

"W. Roscoe."

In 1798, Mr. Johnson was brought to trial for selling the Reverend

Gilbert Wakefield's political works, and being found guilty was

sentenced by the Court to pay a fine to the King of £50, and to be

imprisoned in the King's Bench for nine months. Johnson employed Mr.

Erskine (afterwards Lord Erskine) as his counsel; and Fuseli, in common

with most of Mr. Johnson's friends, considered that the prosecution was

an arbitrary act on the part of the Government, because every bookseller

sold the works in question, and all with impunity, except Johnson; and

that Erskine, in his defence, lost sight of the interest of his client,

in the wish to shew his own political opinions, and to make a display of

his oratorical powers.

Mr. Johnson, on his removal to the King's Bench, occupied the Marshal's

house, and gave there his usual weekly dinners to literary and

scientific men. Fuseli was warned by his friends of the existence of the

Alien act, and advised not to visit a man in the King's Bench Prison who

had been so marked by the Government. But his friendship for Johnson was

greater than any prudential motives of this nature; and he therefore

visited him as frequently as he had previously done in his own house.

The following anecdote respecting Lord Erskine, who subsequently was

intimate with Fuseli, was told me by Mr. Bonnycastle. He and Johnson

were, just previously to the trial, walking through Lincoln's Inn on

their way to dine with Fuseli, and met Erskine there accidentally, who

had several dogs with him, animals of which he was particularly fond. As

soon as he saw them, he cried out, "Johnson, I have something particular

to say to you," and then occupied him in close conversation, apart from

Bonnycastle, for nearly a quarter of an hour.

At length Mr. Johnson took his leave; and when he joined Bonnycastle,

said, "You cannot even guess the topic of our conversation."

"Doubtless," said the latter, "your forthcoming trial." "Not a bit,"

said Johnson; "he never even alluded to it, and the time was wholly

occupied with his opinions about Brothers the Prophet, and in asking

questions respecting a book 'on the Revelations,' lately offered me for

publication."

When Johnson was liberated, he, Fuseli, and Mr. Sturch, went to

Liverpool together to enjoy, for three or four weeks, that relaxation

which was considered necessary for Johnson's health.

On the 20th of May, 1799, the rooms in Pall Mall, formerly occupied by

the Royal Academy, were opened for the exhibition of the "Milton

Gallery:" these Fuseli rented at 210_l._ per annum. This exhibition

consisted of forty pictures of different sizes; but, to give an idea of

the extent of the undertaking, the following are the dimensions of some

of the principal ones. "Satan starting from the touch of Ithuriel's

spear," and "Satan calling up his Legions," each 13ft. by 12.--"Satan

encountering Death, Sin interposing;" "Adam and Eve first discovered by

Satan;" "Satan flying up from Sin and Death in his enterprise;" and "The

Vision of Noah:" each 13ft. by 10. "Death and Sin bridging the waste of

Chaos," and "The Vision of the Lazar House," each 11ft. by 10. "The

Creation of Eve;" "Christ on the Pinnacle of the Temple;" "The Fall of

Satan;" "Adam resolved to share the Fate of Eve;" and "Eve at the Tree

of Knowledge:" each 10ft. by 7.

To those who had a feeling for the highest class of art, epic subjects,

treated with dramatic power, this exhibition afforded a high treat. But,

that some judgment may be formed of its extent and variety, the

following descriptive catalogue of the pictures drawn up by Fuseli

himself, is here given, to which is added, as far as I can ascertain

them, the names of the persons in whose possession these pictures now

are.

A CATALOGUE

OF THE

MILTON GALLERY,

AS IT WAS OPENED THE 20TH OF MAY, 1799.

PARADISE LOST.

PICTURE I.--A SKETCH.

SATAN risen from the Flood, BEELZEBUB rising.

Forthwith upright he rears from off the pool

His mighty stature; on each hand the flames

Driv'n backward slope their pointing spires, and roll'd

In billows, leave i' th' midst a horrid vale.

----Him follow'd his next mate,

Both glorying to have 'scap'd the Stygian flood

As Gods----

Book I. v. 221, 238.

In the possession of Sir Thomas Lawrence.

PICTURE II.

SATAN calling up his Legions.

----On the beach

Of that enflamed sea he stood, and call'd

His legions, Angel forms, who lay entranc'd

Thick as autumnal leaves, that strow the brooks

In Vallombrosa.----

He call'd so loud, that all the hollow deep

Of Hell resounded.----

Awake, arise, or be for ever fall'n.

They heard, and were abash'd, and up they sprung----

Book I. v. 299, 314, 330.

In the possession of His Grace the Duke of Wellington.

PICTURE III.--A SKETCH.

SATAN haranguing his Host.

He spake: and to confirm his words, out flew

Millions of flaming swords, drawn from the thighs

Of mighty Cherubim.----

Book I. v. 663.

PICTURE IV.

Figures from a simile in allusion to the contracted form of the

Spirits assembled in the new-raised Hall of PANDÆMONIUM,

illustrated by a simile from

----Fairy elves,

Whose midnight revels by a forest side

Or fountain some belated peasant sees,

Or dreams he sees, while over head the moon

Sits arbitress, and nearer to the earth

Wheels her pale course, they on their mirth and dance

Intent, with jocund music charm his ear;

At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds.

Book I. v. 781.

PICTURE V.

SATAN encount'ring DEATH, SIN interposing.

----And now great deeds

Had been achiev'd, whereof all Hell had rung,

Had not the snaky Sorceress that sat

Fast by Hell gate, and kept the fatal key,

Ris'n, and with hideous outcry rush'd between.

----She finish'd, and the subtle Fiend his lore

Soon learn'd, now milder.----

Book II. v. 722, 815.

In the possession of Sir Thomas Lawrence.

PICTURE VI.

The Birth of SIN.

All on a sudden miserable pain

Surpris'd thee, dim thine eyes, and dizzy swam

In darkness, while thy head flames thick and fast

Threw forth, till on the left side opening wide,

Likest to thee in shape and count'nance bright,

Then shining heav'nly fair, a Goddess arm'd

Out of thy head I sprung.----

Book II. v. 752.

In the possession of Samuel Cartwright, Esq.

PICTURE VII.

SIN pursued by DEATH.

----I fled, and cry'd out Death;

I fled, but he pursued----

----And swifter far

Me overtook.----

Book II. v. 787.

In the possession of John Knowles, Esq.

PICTURE VIII.

LAPLAND ORGIES, the Hell-hounds round SIN compared to those that

----follow the night-hag, when call'd

In secret, riding through the air she comes,

Lur'd with the smell of infant blood, to dance

With Lapland witches, while the lab'ring moon

Eclipses at their charms.----

Book II. v. 662.

In the possession of John Knowles, Esq.

PICTURE IX.

SATAN'S ascent from Hell.

----At last his sail-broad vans

He spreads for flight, and in the surging smoke

Uplifted spurns the ground.----

Book II. v. 927.

In the possession of Sir Thomas Lawrence.

PICTURE X.

A GRYPHON pursuing an ARIMASPIAN. A comparison of SATAN'S exertions

to force his way through the realm of CHAOS.

As when a Gryphon through the wilderness

With winged course, o'er hill or moory dale,

Pursues the Arimaspian, who by stealth

Had from his wakeful custody purloin'd

The guarded gold: so eagerly the Fiend----

Book II. v. 943.

In the possession of John Knowles, Esq.

PICTURE XI.

SATAN bursts from CHAOS.

He ceas'd; and Satan stay'd not to reply,

But----

Springs upward like a pyramid of fire.

Book II. v. 1010.

In the possession of the Countess of Guilford.

PICTURE XII.

ULYSSES between SCYLLA and CHARYBDIS. An exemplification of SATAN

straitened in his passage to Light.

----Harder beset

Than when Ulysses on the larboard shunn'd

Charybdis, and by th' other whirlpool steer'd

So he with difficulty and labour hard

Mov'd on, with difficulty and labour he.

Book II. v. 1019.

In the possession of the Countess of Guilford.

PICTURE XIII.

ADAM and EVE first discovered by SATAN.

Under a tuft of shade that on a green

Stood whisp'ring soft, by a fresh fountain side

They sat them down.

Nor gentle purpose, nor endearing smiles

Wanted, nor youthful dalliance as beseems

Fair couple, link'd in happy nuptial league,

Alone as they----

----aside the 'Spirit' turn'd

For envy, yet with jealous leer malign

Ey'd them askance.----

Book IV. v. 325, 337, 502.

PICTURE XIV.

SATAN surprised at the ear of EVE, starting from the touch of

ITHURIEL'S Spear.

Him thus intent Ithuriel with his spear

Touch'd lightly;----

----up he starts

Discovered and surpris'd. As when a spark

Lights on a heap of nitrous powder,----

----the smutty grain

With sudden blaze diffus'd inflames the air:

So started up in his own shape the Fiend.

Back stept those two fair Angels half amaz'd

So sudden to behold the grisly king.

Book IV. v. 810.

In the possession of John Angerstein, Esq.

PICTURE XV.--A SKETCH.

SATAN discovering his fate in the Scale aloft, flying from GABRIEL

and the Angelic Squadron.

----On th' other side Satan alarm'd

Collecting all his might dilated stood.----

----The Fiend look'd up, and knew

His mounted scale aloft: nor more; but fled

Murm'ring, and with him fled the shades of night.

Book IV. v. 985, 1013.

PICTURE XVI.

The Dream of EVE, fancying to have tasted the fruit from the Tree

of interdicted Knowledge, with

One shap'd and wing'd like one of those from Heaven.

----Forthwith up to the clouds

With him I flew, and underneath beheld

The earth outstretch'd immense----

----Suddenly

My guide was gone, and I, methought, sunk down,

And fell asleep;----

Book V. v. 55, 86, 90.

In the possession of Wm. Young Ottley, Esq.

PICTURE XVII.

The creation of EVE, as related by ADAM.

Abstract as in a trance methought I saw,

Though sleeping, where I lay, and saw the shape

Still glorious before whom awake I stood;

Who stooping open'd my left side, and took

From thence a rib----

Under his forming hands a creature grew,

----So lovely fair,

That what seem'd fair in all the world, seem'd now

Mean, or in her summ'd up.----

Book VIII. v. 462, 470.

PICTURE XVIII.

EVE, new created, led to ADAM.

----On she came,

Led by her heav'nly Maker,----

And guided by his voice,----

Grace was in all her steps, Heav'n in her eye,

I overjoy'd could not forbear aloud.

This turn has made amends.----

Book VIII. v. 484.

In the possession of John Angerstein, Esq.

PICTURE XIX.

EVE at the forbidden Tree.

----Her rash hand in evil hour

Forth reaching to the fruit, she pluck'd, she eat;

----Back to the thicket slunk

The guilty serpent.----

Book IX. v. 780.

PICTURE XX.

ADAM resolved to share the fate of Eve; the Guardian Angels leaving

the Garden.

----if death

Consort with thee, death is to me as life;

Our state cannot be sever'd, we are one,

One flesh; to lose thee were to lose myself.

So Adam, and thus Eve to him reply'd.

O glorious trial of exceeding love,

Illustrious evidence, example high!

So saying, she embrac'd him, and for joy

Tenderly wept----

Up into Heav'n from Paradise in haste

Th' angelic guards ascended, mute and sad

For Man----

Book IX. v. 953, 958, 990.--Book X. v. 17.

PICTURE XXI.

EVE, after the Sentence and departure of the Judge, despairing,

supported by ADAM.

----With swift ascent he up return'd.

She ended here, or vehement despair

Broke off the rest; so much of death her thoughts

Had entertain'd, as dy'd her cheeks with pale.

But Adam with such counsel nothing sway'd,

To better hopes his more attentive mind

Lab'ring had raised.----

Book X. v. 224, 1007.

PICTURE XXII.

DEATH and SIN bridging the 'waste' of CHAOS, and met by SATAN on

his return from Earth.

----The aggregated soil

Death with his mace petrific, cold and dry,

As with a trident smote,----

----and the mole immense wrought on

Over the foaming deep high arch'd, a bridge

Of length prodigious.----

----when behold

Satan in likeness of an Angel bright----

----Sin, his fair

Enchanting daughter, thus the silence broke:

O Parent, these are thy magnific deeds.

Book X. v. 293, 300, 326, 352.

In the possession of the Countess of Guilford.

PICTURE XXIII.

SATAN discovered on his Throne, after his return from Earth.

----Down a while

He sat, and round about him saw unseen:

At last as from a cloud his fulgent head

And shape star-bright appear'd----

----all amaz'd

At that so sudden blaze the Stygian throng

Bent their aspect----

----loud was th' acclaim:

Forth rush'd in haste the great consulting peers,

Rais'd from their dark Divan.----

Book X. v. 447, 452, 455.

PICTURE XXIV.

The Vision of the Lazar-house.

----Immediately a place

Before his eyes appear'd, sad, noisome, dark,

A lazar-house it seem'd, wherein were laid

Numbers of all diseas'd, all maladies.

Demoniac phrenzy, moping melancholy,

And moon-struck madness, pining atrophy.

Marasmus----

Dire was the tossing, deep the groans;

And over them triumphant Death his dart

Shook, but delay'd to strike, though oft invok'd.

Book XI. v. 477, 485.

In the possession of the Countess of Guilford.

PICTURE XXV.

The Vision of the Deluge.

----the thicken'd sky

Like a dark ceiling stood; down rush'd the rain

Impetuous----

----Sea cover'd sea,

Sea without shore----

How didst thou grieve then, Adam, to behold

The end of all thy offspring----

Depopulation!

Book XI. v. 742, 754.

In the possession of John Angerstein, Esq.

PICTURE XXVI.

The Vision of Noah.

----from his ark

The ancient sire descends with all his train;

Then with uplifted hands, and eyes devout,

Grateful to Heav'n, over his head beholds

A dewy cloud, and in the cloud a bow.

Book XI. v. 861.

In the Church at Luton, Bedfordshire.

PICTURE XXVII.

The dismission of ADAM and EVE from Paradise.

In either hand the hast'ning Angel caught

Our ling'ring parents, and to th' eastern gate

Led them direct, and down the cliff as fast

To the subjected plain; then disappear'd.

They looking back, all th' eastern side beheld

Of Paradise, so late their happy seat,

Wav'd over by that flaming brand, the gate

With dreadful faces throng'd and fiery arms:

Some natural tears they dropt.----

Book XII. v. 637.

* * * * *

PARADISE REGAINED.

PICTURE XXVIII.

JESUS on the pinnacle of the Temple.

There on the highest pinnacle he set

The Son of God, and added thus in scorn.

There stand, if thou wilt stand; to stand upright

Will ask thee skill.----

To whom thus Jesus; also it is written,

Tempt not the Lord thy God: he said and stood:

But Satan smitten with amazement fell.

Book IV. v. 549, 560.

* * * * *

HYMN ON THE NATIVITY.

PICTURE XXIX.

MARY and JESUS. The ruin of Paganism.

The Oracles are dumb,

No voice or hideous hum

Runs through the arched roof in words deceiving.

Apollo from his shrine

Can no more divine, &c.

The Libyc Hammon shrinks his horn;

The brutish Gods of Nile as fast,

Isis and Orus, and the dog Anubis haste.

Stanza xix. xxii-iii.

In the possession of John Knowles, Esq.

* * * * *

L'ALLEGRO.

PICTURE XXX.

Faery Mab.

In the possession of the Countess of Guilford.

PICTURE XXXI.

The Friar's Lanthorn.

In the possession of Watts Russell, Esq.

PICTURE XXXII.

The Lubbar Fiend.

With stories told of many a feat,

How faery Mab the junkets eat,

She was pinch'd, and pull'd she said,

And he by friar's lanthorn led

Tells how the drudging Goblin swet,

To earn his cream-bowl duly set,

When in one night, ere glimpse of morn,

His shadowy flail hath thresh'd the corn,

That ten day-lab'rers could not end;

Then lies him down the lubbar fiend,

And stretch'd out all the chimney's length,

Basks at the fire his hairy strength. V. 101.

Picture XXXI. receives still better light from the following lines

in Paradise Lost, Book IX. v. 634, &c.

----as when a wand'ring fire,

Which oft, they say, some evil Sp'rit attends,

Hovering and blazing with delusive light,

Misleads th' amaz'd night-wand'rer from his way

To bogs and mires, and oft through pond or pool,

There swallow'd up and lost, from succour far.

* * * * *

IL PENSIEROSO.

PICTURE XXXIII.

Silence.

Some still removed place----

Where glowing embers through the room

Teach light to counterfeit a gloom. V. 78.

In the possession of the Countess of Guilford.

PICTURE XXXIV.

CHREMHILD meditating revenge over the Sword of SIGFRID.

Or call up him that left half told

The story of Cambuscan bold----

And if _aught else_ great bards beside

In sage and solemn tunes have sung----

V. 109, 116.

* * * * *

COMUS.

PICTURE XXXV.

The Palace and the Rout of COMUS; the LADY set in the enchanted

Chair, to whom he offered his Glass; the Brothers rushing in with

Swords drawn, wrest the Glass out of his hand; his Rout flying.

PICTURE XXXVI.

Orgies of COTYTTO. BAPTÆ preparing a Philtrum. See the Vth Epode of

Horace.

Venus now wakes, and wakens Love.

Come let us our rites begin----

Hail Goddess of nocturnal sport,

Dark-veil'd Cotytto----

Stay thy cloudy ebon chair,

Wherein thou rid'st with Hecat', and befriend

Us thy vow'd priests, till utmost end

Of all thy dues be done.----

V. 124, 128, 134.

* * * * *

LYCIDAS.

PICTURE XXXVII.

Solitude. Twilight.

Under the opening eyelids of the morn,

What time the gray-fly winds her sultry horn.

V. 26-8.

In the possession of the Countess of Guilford.

* * * * *

PICTURE XXXVIII.

MILTON, as a Boy with his Mother.

In the possession of Sir Francis Burdett, Bart.

PICTURE XXXIX.

MILTON, when a Youth.

PICTURE XL.

MILTON, dictating to his Daughter.

In the possession of the Marquis of Bute.

The Vision of the Lazar-house was justly considered by the best judges

in the art, to be the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of the Gallery. It is a

composition of seventeen figures, and parts of figures, in which the

painter creates both terror and pity in the spectator, by judiciously

excluding most of those objects represented by the poet as suffering

under bodily diseases calculated to create disgust, and confining

himself chiefly to the representation of the maladies of the mind, which

are so forcibly described by the passage,

"Demoniac Phrensy, moping Melancholy,

"And moon-struck Madness----"

It would be a vain attempt, by words, to describe this Gallery, so as to

do justice to the grandeur of the ideas and of the drawing, more

particularly in the pictures of 'Satan calling up his Legions;' 'Satan

encountering Death, and Sin interposing;' 'Satan surprised at the ear of

Eve;' 'Death and Sin bridging of Chaos,' or, in that of 'Sin pursued by

Death;'--they must be seen to be appreciated. But Fuseli shone not only

in the grand, the sublime, and pathetic scenes, but also in the playful

ones. How rare a quality it is for the same mind to direct its efforts

to the _Pensieroso_, and, at command, to divert its attention to the

_Allegro_, and succeed in both!--But such were the powers of the

painter in question, as well as of the poet.

Unfortunately for Fuseli, some of the newspapers of the day were so

inimical to this exhibition that it was difficult for him to get an

advertisement inserted, and even money would not induce the editors to

give a place to any paragraph which his friends wished to insert in its

favour. The beautiful lines (which will be found in the Appendix) from

the pen of William Roscoe, Esquire, lay in the hands of the editor of a

popular paper for some weeks before he gave them insertion.

The sum charged the public for viewing this Gallery was one shilling,

and for the descriptive catalogue, sixpence. The receipts of the

exhibition during the first month amounted only to one hundred and

seventeen pounds, and the two succeeding ones were each even less than

this sum; so that when it was closed, at the end of July, the whole of

the money taken at the doors was not adequate to the payment of the rent

of the premises and the expenses incurred for advertisements and

attendants. Fuseli was somewhat dismayed by this, and thus expressed

himself: "I have dreamt of a golden land, and solicit in vain for the

barge which is to carry me to its shore." But the consciousness of his

own merit did not allow him to sink under the disappointment; he

determined to try the effect of another season, and laboured diligently

upon pictures to be then added to the Gallery.

Barry, who was at this time professor of painting to the Royal Academy,

had for a long period made himself obnoxious to the members, first by

his undeserved attacks upon the works of his earliest and best friend in

the art, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and afterwards by occasionally delivering

in his lectures the most severe criticisms upon the works of living

artists, and among others upon those of West, the then President, and

Fuseli. The latter were, however, in some degree provoked by the

frequent although just sallies of wit, which Fuseli employed on Barry's

pretensions to learning. The President and Council of the Academy

pointed out the impolicy of such proceedings, and indeed reprimanded

Barry; but this, instead of checking, had the effect of increasing the

violence of his abuse. A meeting of the whole body of the Academicians

was consequently summoned, and they not only dispossessed him of the

Chair as Professor, but expelled him the Academy. The Chair of the

Professor of Painting being by this resolution vacant, Opie intimated

an intention of offering himself as a candidate; but, upon being told

that Fuseli intended to do the same thing, he immediately withdrew his

name, paying at the same time this merited compliment to his genius and

talents: "I would not," said he, "have surrendered my pretensions to any

other artist but Fuseli," who was therefore elected on the 29th of June

1799. The powers which he had displayed in the pictures of "The Milton

Gallery," his learning and well-known critical knowledge, were the

causes which influenced the Academicians in their choice.

It has been insidiously asserted, that after Fuseli left Zurich in 1779,

he was not on friendly terms with the members of his family; and that

they took little or no interest in the success of his efforts in the

Fine Arts. The following translation of a letter from his eldest

brother, Rodolph, proves the assertion to be unfounded.

"Vienna, May 7th, 1799.

"DEAREST BROTHER,

"Benedetti, the engraver, brought me last year, (in _September_,) a

letter from you, in which you assured me of your unchanged,

brotherly affection, and invited me to write to you sometimes, and

to acquaint you with an opportunity of sending over to me some

works of art. In October I answered your letter, and named at the

same time two London printsellers, with whom the printsellers here,

(Artaria and Co., and Mollo and Co.) are in correspondence. Half a

year, however, has already elapsed, without my having heard from

you. I can well understand that, pending the great work which you

have undertaken, and will, I now hope, soon have finished, you may

have had but little time for letter-writing; but I do not ask a

formal letter of you, but only a line or two, to assure me you are

well, and have not quite forgotten me. If, therefore, your

fraternal love is not chilled, I hope to be gratified in this

respect, before the scythe overtakes me, of which, at my time of

life, when we are continually fancying we hear it behind us, one

cannot be too distrustful.

"Much as I value your works of art, you must not think that what

you promised me is the occasion of my now writing. No, my dear

brother, I am not so selfish; your good health, and the success of

your great undertaking, are to me matters of far greater concern

than any works of art you could send me; and upon these two points

I beseech you to set my mind at ease, be your letter ever so short.

"The affairs of our country wear a lamentably gloomy aspect; and I

much fear that our fellow-countrymen will act as imprudently, and

as awkwardly in the sequel, as they did at the commencement of the

_Swiss Revolution_, thereby drawing a foreign power into the

country. They then played a wretched part, and I only hope they

will not do the same again. I do not know whether the new German

books upon matters of art are to be had in London, or not; if you

should meet with the first part of my Critical Catalogue of

Engravings after classical masters, peruse it with indulgence. The

second part will be better managed. In characterising Rafael,

Correggio, and Titian, I have made use of the writings of Mengs;

because I know that he has studied all his life after these three

masters, and (in my opinion) writes philosophically on their styles

of art; but for the rest, I confess, I do not consider Mengs to be

that great artist which the world makes him, as laborious study is

too evident in his works, and (according to my feeling) there is a

_something_ in them of an undecided and timid character.

"We have materials here for the advancement of art, which are no

where to be had better--the Court spends (even now in war-time)

twenty-six thousand florins yearly on the Academy; we have casts of

all ancient statues of importance, which were to be seen in Rome,

Florence, or Portici; also of more than a hundred of the most

beautiful busts; models of individuals distinguished for beauty of

person, taken from the life; skeletons; moveable anatomical

figures. The great rooms, like halls, are filled with collections

of these kinds; stipends, premiums are given; and, in short, every

thing that can be desired for the encouragement of a school of art

is here; and, nevertheless, hitherto without having produced any

apparent advantage; for, where there is no susceptibility for the

beautiful, every thing is to no purpose, and will probably be

always to no purpose.

"Your London publications are every where held in the highest

esteem, especially on account of the elegance of their execution,

and the typographical splendour of the impressions. But they are

all so high in price, that a private individual of moderate means

cannot buy any of them, and must content himself with looking at

the best in the collections of the great and rich.

"_Füger_, whom you may perhaps have known in Rome, is now director

of the Academy of Arts here. He has exhibited a series of twenty

designs from Klopstock's 'Messiah;' amongst which, some of

particular interest. Our engravers, with the exception of

Schmüzer, who has published four good prints from Rubens, are of no

importance, and are for the most part to be looked upon as mere

mechanics; and even if some of them have talent, they are obliged

to engrave from insignificant things, in order to earn their bread.

"The other day, I found many people collected before the shop of my

printseller, and staring at something in the window. I pressed

through the crowd, and found your representation of "Hamlet's

Ghost" was exposed in the window, of which all present, each in his

way, were expressing their admiration. Now that I have prosed on to

you of different things, I will spare you any more

prosing.--Farewell, and be happy, and think sometimes, when in a

good humour, of your ever-loving brother,

"Rodolph."

"If it should ever come into your head to write me a line, direct,

Füessli, on the Nienn Laurenzer-House, No. 34, on the first floor,

in _Vienna_.

"N. B.--The _Nienn_ is a little river which flows by my house."

The "Milton Gallery" was re-opened on the 21st of March 1800; but as it

did not attract the public, and as many of the members of the Royal

Academy lamented deeply the ill success which attended it, and

considered the apathy which was shown towards these grand specimens of

art would in the end be fatal to the progress of history painting in

this country, so they induced the Academy to which they belonged to come

to the resolution of patronizing the undertaking, which caused the

following circular to be issued:--

"Royal Academy, May 2, 1800.

"Messrs. Dance, Banks, and Opie, the Stewards, request the favour

of your company to dine with the President, Council, and the rest

of the Members of the Royal Academy, at the 'Milton Gallery,' on

Saturday, the 17th of May, at five o'clock.

"Tickets, price fifteen shillings, to be had at the 'Milton

Gallery,' and at the 'Freemasons' Tavern,' till Saturday, the 10th

of August. Any Member desirous of introducing a friend, may be

accommodated with a ticket for that purpose.

"The favour of an answer is desired as soon as possible."

This dinner was numerously attended; the seven pictures which had been

added to those of the last exhibition were much admired; but all that

Fuseli got on the occasion, to use his own terms, was "mouth honour."

The following are the subjects of the pictures which were not in the

exhibition of the former year:--

PARADISE LOST.

PICTURE XLI.

SIN receiving the Key of Hell.

----Down they fell,

Driven headlong from the pitch of heav'n, down

Into this deep, and in the general fall

I also: at which time this powerful key

Into my hand was giv'n.

Book II. v. 771.

In the possession of Samuel Cartwright, Esq.

PICTURE XLII.

SATAN'S first Address to EVE.

----Eve separate he spies,

Veil'd in a cloud of fragrance, where she stood,

Half spy'd, so thick the roses blushing round

About her glow'd, oft stooping to support

Each flower of tender stalk, &c.

He bolder now, uncall'd, before her stood,

But as in gaze admiring--

His gentle dumb expression turn'd at length

The eye of Eve----

Book IX. v. 424, 523.

PICTURE XLIII.

ADAM and EVE meeting after her Seduction.

----By the tree

Of knowledge he must pass, there he her met,

Scarce from the tree returning; in her hand

A bough of fairest fruit----

----in her face excuse

Came prologue, and apology too prompt,

Which with bland words at will she thus addressed.

----The Serpent wise

Hath eaten of the fruit, and is become

Endued with human voice, and human sense.

----I

Have also tasted, and have also found

----opener mine eyes,

Dim erst, dilated spirits, ampler heart,

And growing up to Godhead----

On the other side, Adam

Astonied stood and blank----

From his slack hand the garland wreath'd for Eve

Down dropt----

Book IX. v. 848.

* * * * *

ELEGY ON THE DEATH OF A FAIR INFANT.

PICTURE XLIV.

WINTER carrying off a Maid.

O fairest flow'r, no sooner blown but blasted!

Soft silken primrose, fading timelessly!

Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst out-lasted

Bleak Winter's force that made thy blossom dry;

For he, being amorous, on that lovely dye

That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss;

But kill'd, alas! and then bewail'd his fatal bliss.

* * * * *

L'ALLEGRO.

PICTURE XLV.

EUPHROSYNE, or Mirth, with FANCY and MODERATION hovering over her,

tripping forward--

On the light fantastic toe;

accompanied by

Wanton Wiles;

Sport, that wrinkled Care derides;

And Laughter, holding both his sides,

with the Group of FALSTAFF and DOLL in the fore-ground: the

distance exhibits the Meeting of ZEPHYRUS and AURORA, allusive to

the Birth of EUPHROSYNE, in the words--

Zephyr with Aurora playing,

As he met her once a maying, &c.

In the possession of the Duchess of St. Alban's.

* * * * *

IL PENSIEROSO.

PICTURE XLVI.

MELANCHOLY,

Reclining on her throne--

Her rapt soul sitting in her eyes,

with the attendant GENII of TERROR and GRIEF at her Feet, and

behind her the Shadow of UGOLINO and his dead Son.--The whole dimly

illuminated by a Moon-beam.

This picture was destroyed accidentally.

* * * * *

SONNET III.

PICTURE XLVII.

The SHEPHERDESS of the ALPS watering her Plants.--An Evening Scene.

Qual in colle aspro, &c.

As an exhibition opened for the second time has not the charm of novelty

to attract the public; so, unfortunately, at its close the Milton

Gallery, notwithstanding the patronage of the Royal Academy, was found

to be even less productive during this than the previous season; and

after four months of anxiety and disappointment, Fuseli closed it on the

18th of July 1800. Thus terminated the exhibition of one of the greatest

efforts of genius ever executed by one artist. It is lamentable to

contemplate that, after the labour of so many years, the energies

exerted by the painter, and the privations which he endured during the

time he was executing these pictures, they should have been met with so

much of neglect from the public[47]. Upon the closing of this Gallery,

Fuseli thus expressed himself to a friend, "I am fed with honour, and

suffered to starve, if they could starve me."

Fuseli sometimes lounged about the Milton Gallery to hear the critical

and other remarks of the visitors. On one occasion, a coarse-looking man

left his party, and coming up to him, said, "Pray, Sir, what is that

picture?" Fuseli answered, "It is the bridging of Chaos: the subject

from Milton."--"No wonder," said he, "I did not know it, for I never

read Milton, but I will."--"I advise you not," said Fuseli, "for you

will find it a d--d tough job."

His friends felt in how embarrassed a situation Fuseli must be placed by

these unsuccessful exhibitions; and they determined to relieve him by

becoming purchasers of some of the pictures. The Countess of Guilford

bought the "Lycidas;" Lord Rivers, "Satan calling up his Legions;" Sir

Mark Sykes, Bart., "The Lubbar Fiend;" Thomas Coutts, Esq., "The Lazar

House;" John Julius Angerstein, Esq. (at the recommendation of W. Lock,

Esq.) "Satan starting from the touch of Ithuriel's spear;" "The Vision

of the Deluge," and "Eve, newly created, led to Adam;" William Young

Ottley, Esq., "Sin pursued by Death," and "The Dream of Eve;" and

William Roscoe, Esq. with that friendship and liberality which he always

exercised towards Fuseli, purchased pictures to the amount of £300;

which, however, did not form a part of this exhibition.

Prior to the purchase of the picture of "The Deluge," by Mr. Angerstein,

Fuseli wrote the following letter to Mr. William Lock.

"London, 11th August, 1800.

"As it may be expected, and indeed necessary, that I should

inspect, and perhaps correct the pictures sent under Mr. Wyall's

direction to Mr. Angerstein's, I take the liberty of applying

through you to Mr. Lock, to be informed when my admission for that

purpose may be attended with the least inconvenience to Mr.

Angerstein's arrangements.

"The greater part of my exhibition, the rejected family of a silly

father, are now again rolled up, or packed together against the

walls of my study to be seasoned for dust, the worm, and oblivion.

Ti gar moi kai makrois aulois,[48] said Otho when in possession of

his wish; I have been punished by obtaining mine. It cannot be

supposed, however, that I should be quite indifferent to the fate

of my bantlings; and as 'the expectations of ignorance are

indefinite,' I venture to ask, whether you think it quite

impracticable to persuade Mr. Angerstein to find a place for 'The

Deluge?' It is not quite so wide as the smaller picture in his

possession; and though, if placed on the other side of the Satan,

it would be less honourable to me than the company of Rubens; it

would be more in tune with the rest.

"It would be presumption in me, without authority from you, to

congratulate you on what more than rumour has told me, of your

intended change of state: of this, however, you are sure, that

nothing conducive to the happiness of William Lock can be more

interesting to any man than his

"Respects.

"Fuseli."

"To William Lock, Jun. Esq.

Norbury Park."

CHAPTER IX.

Fuseli's Lectures at the Royal Academy.--Letters respecting them

from Mr. Farington.--Letter from Sir Henry Englefield, on the

subject of the ancient Vases.--Death of Fuseli's friend,

Lavater.--Fuseli's Visit to Paris in 1802.--His Letter from thence

to Mr. James Moore.--His acquaintance with the French Painters

David and Gerard.--Results of his Visit.--Letter from Mr.

Roscoe.--Fuseli's Remarks on some of the Paintings in the

Louvre.--Letter from Mr. Smirke.--Fuseli elected Keeper of the

Royal Academy.--Incidental Anecdote.--Letter to Mr. Joseph Johnson.

In March 1801, Fuseli delivered three lectures on painting, at the Royal

Academy, which were numerously attended, and he gained much applause.

The feelings of the Academicians, the students, and the public, with

respect to the lectures, will be shewn by the following letters from

Joseph Farington, Esq. R.A. the friend of Fuseli, and a gentleman who at

this time took a lead in all the affairs of the Royal Academy.

"Tuesday, March 17, 1801.

"DEAR SIR,

"Though I did not attend your lecture last night, I was not the

less interested for you, and, before the evening closed, had the

satisfaction to receive, from one who was present, an account that

was equal to my wishes. Be assured that you have made a due

impression on the minds of the members, and have added to the

credit of the Academy, and to your own reputation.

"I shall hope to see you soon.

"Believe me to be, dear Sir,

"Your's most sincerely,

"Jos. Farington."

"To Henry Fuseli, Esq."

"Tuesday, March 24, 1801.

"DEAR SIR,

"I have still more reason to congratulate you on the effect of your

last night's discourse, which made a still stronger impression in

your favour. Go on, for the honour of the Academy, your own credit,

and, I hope, interest.

"Dear Sir,

"Your's truly,

"Jos. Farington."

"To Henry Fuseli, Esq."

"March 31, 1801.

"DEAR SIR,

"Last night I saw Mr. Daniell, and this morning another person who

was at the Academy last night. The room, I am informed, was more

crowded; a proof of spreading reputation, and the satisfaction

general.

"More encouragement to succeed cannot be required.

"Dear Sir,

"Your's very sincerely,

"Jos. Farington."

"To Henry Fuseli, Esq."

These lectures Fuseli published in the month of May 1801, in a quarto

volume, which was dedicated to his friend, William Lock, Esq. of Norbury

Park. As they have been long before the Public, it is unnecessary now to

speak of their merit; suffice it to say, that they have been translated

into the German, French, and Italian languages.

The publication of Fuseli's lectures having made a great sensation among

artists, and that on ancient art in particular having been much

canvassed by them as well as by antiquaries, he wished to gain, and, if

he saw fit, to embody in future editions, as much information as could

be obtained on this subject; he therefore made application to his friend

the late Sir Henry Englefield, Bart. for his observations upon the Vases

of the ancients, commonly called Etruscan, which that gentleman gave him

in the following letter:

"Tilney Street, August 24, 1803.

"DEAR SIR,

"At your desire, I communicate to you such observations on the

ancient Vases, commonly called Etruscan, as a minute examination of

many of the finest specimens in the magnificent collection of Mr.

Thomas Hope, and the select and very beautiful one belonging to Mr.

Edwards, have enabled me to make, particularly with respect to the

mechanical process used in the decoration of them.

"The material of these vases is clay of a very fine and close

quality, extremely light, and of a colour nearly the same in all, a

light and agreeable orange red.

"They all, without exception, are covered with a varnish or glazing

of a dark colour, but not in all of the same tint; in some, it has

a greenish hue, and a lustre of a metallic appearance; this is most

striking in those found near Nola. In many, the varnish is of a

brown black, like asphaltum.

"The vases may be ranked in four classes.

"1. Those covered with varnish without ornament or painting of any

kind.

"2. Those which bear on the natural ground of the ware, figures in

black varnish.

"3. Those whose figures are left in red, the vase being covered

with varnish.

"4. Vases covered entirely with varnish, on which ornaments are

painted in colours.

"Of the first sort it will be necessary to say but little. Many of

the most exquisitely formed Nolan vases are of this sort. The

varnish appears to have been laid on while the vase was on the

lathe. The parallel strokes visible on the surface of the varnish,

and its extreme equality of tint, prove this. No better mode can be

devised for varnishing, except dipping the ware into the liquid

varnish; and this was not done in these vases, as the varnish never

covers the hollow of the foot, nor descends deep within the neck. I

cannot at all say whether the vase was varnished while yet wet, or

first suffered to dry, or even baked a first time, as is the

process in much of our common modern glazed earthenware.

"The second sort bear in general marks of the most remote

antiquity. The figures are universally of a stiff and meagre form,

the drapery close, and the folds few and hard. Yet in many the

composition is good, and the action of the figures vigorous. They

exactly resemble in style the bronzes still remaining of Etruscan

work.

"The mode pursued in painting them was this:

"The intended figure was painted without any previous discoverable

outline in varnish, and then resembled exactly those figures so

common under the name of Silhouettes. When the varnish was quite

dry and hard, the features, the limbs, and the folds of the

drapery, &c. were scratched through it with a pointed tool, which

was applied with such force as to cut some depth into the clay of

the vase. This sort of outlining was sometimes carried round parts

of the contour, which appeared to the artist not sufficiently

distinct without it. The hands and fingers are often thus partially

scratched out. Parts of the drapery and ornaments on the heads of

the figures were then covered with a coat of coloured paint. Violet

occurs most frequently; often a green, and sometimes white. In some

vases of the most ancient and rudest appearances, animals,

particularly birds, are coloured not only with these colours, but

also red and yellow; and the appearance and style of these vases

have a great resemblance to the Egyptian paintings on their mummy

chests. The vases of this sort are said to be universally found in

the deepest graves, so deep indeed, that over them sepulchral

chambers of a later date, with vases of a totally different

character are often found. That the colours above-mentioned were

put on after the outline was scratched in, is ascertained by the

circumstance of the colours having in many instances run into, and

partially filled up, the strokes engraved in the vases. This

species of painting is evidently the first improvement on the

simple Skiagrams.

"The vases of the third description, namely those whose figures are

left in red, on a ground of dark varnish, are by much the most

common of any, and are found of all degrees of excellence, from the

most careless and slight finishing, to the most exquisite work; but

in all, the style of design is essentially different from those

described above, with the figures in black. In the red figures,

however negligently executed, there is a fulness of form, and a

freedom of drapery perfectly similar to the remains of Greek art

which have reached us, whether in sculpture or coins.

"The process also of this execution is entirely different from the

second sort, and will be now minutely described from repeated

observations of many of the most exquisite of them, made not only

with the naked eye, but with glasses of high magnifying power.

"The first thing painted on these vases was an outline of the

figures, not only of their contour, but the markings of the

features, muscles, folds of the drapery, ornaments, &c. This

outline, in those vases which are of fine execution, was made with

an instrument which carried a very fine and equal point, and at the

same time left a very full body of the colour used on the vase. The

colour itself appears to have been of a thick consistence; for if

the strokes, even the finest, (which are as fine as could be made

by a good pen,) are carefully examined with a magnifier in a side

light, it will be distinctly perceived that there is a slight

hollow in the middle of each, owing to the colour having flowed

round the point which traced it, and met behind it,--just as we see

in a road where the mud is of a semi-fluid consistence, that the

track of a wheel is filled in with the pasty mire, leaving a

depressed line in the centre of the rut.

"It is impossible to say whether the instrument used for these

outlines was of the nature of a pen or a brush; yet I am inclined

to think from the flowing appearance of the lines, that a firm and

finely pointed brush or pencil was used. Whichever it was, the

hands which guided it possessed a steadiness and freedom of

execution, almost incredible. Lines of a great length and difficult

curvatures are carried over the convex surface of the vases,

without the least wavering or indecision, or any lifting the point

from the vase, or any repetition, or filling up of the stroke. An

attentive examination of the outline will ascertain this fact

beyond a doubt, and a further proof of it may be drawn from the few

instances in which strokes of very great length have been done at

twice, particularly in a vase of great size and admirable execution

in the collection of Mr. Hope, representing probably the story of

Triptolemus, where the long parallel lines marking the feathers of

the wing of a Genius have been suspended about half way; and no

particular care has been taken to conceal the junction of the

lines.

"This vase also furnishes a very rare and instructive instance of

what, by artists, are called _pentimenti_, or changes of design.

The wheel of a chariot and part of the arms of a figure, with a

patera or cup in the hand, have been considerably varied; and the

first outline is still visible like a faint red chalk stroke, but

without any appearance of enlargement or smearing, so that it

should seem that the false stroke was scraped off by a sharp edge,

carefully applied to the surface of the vase when the varnish or

paint was nearly dry.

"That the outline was performed with this freedom and celerity, and

scarcely ever altered, may be further inferred, from the great

inaccuracies of drawing so frequent even in those vases whose

design and execution are of the very highest class. Perhaps an

absolutely unerring precision of hand has never been the lot of any

artist, however excellent. The drawings of the greatest masters

prove that they found many things to alter in their most careful

first lines; and the union of excellence and defect on the vases

can, I think, only be accounted for in the supposition of an

unaltered line.

"What has been hitherto said of the mode of outlining this sort of

vases is applicable only to the finish of them. In those of

inferior finish, the outlines are much thicker, and laid on with a

less body of colour; and in many of the coarsest, there is reason

to think that no outline at all was made, but that the figures were

merely left red in the general wash of the vase, with the

dark-coloured varnish, and the outlines of the features, folds of

the drapery, &c. were put in with a large brush, and in a very

careless manner. Indeed, on the very finest of the vases, the

subordinate decorations, such as the honeysuckle (as it is called)

ornament so frequent under the handles, were simply left red in the

general wash of varnish over the body of the vase; at least no

outline of them is now discoverable. To return to the painting of

the finest vases. The outline already described being perfectly

dry, the artist with a brush or other similar instrument which bore

a full body of colour and made a stroke of about a quarter of an

inch in breadth, went carefully round the contours of the outlined

figures. In this operation, an opportunity was given to make slight

alterations in the design, and in some degree to amend the contour.

This seems to have been often done; for the original outline is

often covered in parts by this wash, and appears projecting from

the surface of the vase under it; affording also a proof that the

outline was dry and hard before this wash was laid on. Frequently,

also, this wash does not come quite up to the original outline;

but in general the wash follows the outline in a most steady and

masterly manner. Probably at this time the hair of the figures was

put in with a thin wash of the same varnish or colour, managed with

peculiar freedom and dexterity, and so washed out to nothing at the

extremities of the flowing curls of the tresses, as to have the

lightest and at the same time the most finished effect. It is to be

observed that the hair, which in some parts is as dark as the

ground of the vase, is not carried quite to the ground, but that a

small space is left red round the hair, in order to relieve it from

the ground of the vase.

"The truth of the contour being thus secured by this narrow border

of ground carefully laid on the covering, the remaining surface of

the vase with its varnish, might be safely entrusted to an inferior

hand. That the varnish was laid on at twice, is evident by

inspection of any well-finished vase, where the first narrow line

of varnish is distinctly visible under the general wash.

"This process finished the greater part of the vases, even the

finest; but on some, particularly those of the largest size, when

every thing else was quite dry, some parts of the design were

coloured with washes of two different tints. The horses and parts

of the armour are painted with white, which when dry is opaque, but

when wetted becomes nearly transparent. Parts of the drapery and

ornaments round the necks and on the heads of the figures, and some

of the shields, are painted yellow, and several small flowers and

ornaments of foliage, which are interspersed among the figures, are

painted in white and yellow. The internal outlines and muscles of

the horses are painted with lines of a light orange on the white;

and the white shields are ornamented in the same manner. That the

white horses were painted after the original black outline of the

human figures was dry, is evidently seen in the magnificent vase in

the possession of Mr. Edwards. In that vase a leg of one of the

horses comes across the thigh and drapery of a figure, and the

original outline of that figure is visible under the white colour

which forms the horse's leg. All these colours are so fixed on the

vases, probably by fire, that they resist the action of aquafortis.

"The vases of the last sort, namely, those which have ornaments in

white and other colours painted on a black ground, which covered

the whole surface of the vase, are very rarely to be met with. Mr.

Hope possesses several, which Sir William Hamilton told me were

all found in one sepulchral chamber, in which none of any other

sort were placed. The cause of this singularity it were vain to

enquire. No figures are represented on these vases, but the

ornaments are light wreathes of ivy, or vine-leaves, with masks and

other bacchanalian symbols. The execution is careless, but

spirited; the paint used seems of the same quality with that above

described as covering the horses, &c. in vases of the third sort;

and the mode of applying it appears in no wise to differ from what

would be now pursued. It is not, therefore, necessary to say any

thing further on this subject.

"It is singular that on vases so profusely adorned with painting,

scarcely an instance of any thing like bas-relief or sculpture of

any kind occurs; on the handles of Mr. Edwards's great Vase, two

full faces in very flat relief are seen; but, con rispetto

parlando, is it quite certain that these handles are entirely

ancient?

"These are the observations which a very careful examination has

enabled me to make on the mechanical process used in adorning the

ancient earthern Vases called Etruscan. To your judgment, Dear Sir,

I submit them, confident that you will, _Si quid novisti rectius

istis, Candidus_--rectify my errors.

"I am, with sincere regard,

"Your obliged and faithful,

"H. Englefield."

"To Henry Fuseli, Esq. R. A."

Early in the year (1801) Fuseli was much dejected by the intelligence of

the death of his old and esteemed friend and fellow-student, Lavater.

This singular man fell a sacrifice to what he considered his clerical

duty; for, when Zurich was occupied by the French, in an attempt to

afford consolation and alleviation to the sufferings of his townsmen,

which usually accompany the presence of an invading army, he was stabbed

by the bayonet of a soldier, under which wound he languished for some

months, and closed a valuable and useful life on the 2nd of January,

1801.

The treaty of peace which was signed at Amiens in 1802, afforded the

English an opportunity of visiting France, and examining those treasures

of art which Buonaparte had torn by violence from Italy, Germany, and

Holland, when those countries were subjected to him, in consequence of

the conquests of the French armies. Fuseli being determined to view

them, went to Paris, accompanied by some friends, with the intention

also of collecting materials for publishing, for the information of

travellers, a critical account of the principal pictures and statues

which then adorned the Louvre. The party consisted of Mr. Farington,

R.A. Mr. James Carrick Moore, Mr. Halls a young artist, and himself.

Urgent business compelled Mr. Moore to return to London earlier than he

had anticipated; but the remainder of the party passed six weeks in

Paris, during the months of September and October, whence Fuseli wrote

to Mr. Moore the following letter:--

"DEAR MOORE,

"I had once a valuable friend in the Rev. Mr. Whalley, who took

great pains to improve me by his correspondence; he was able at all

times to write faster than he could think; from which you probably

might be led to surmise that his epistles would have been fuller of

news than observations--you would be mistaken; they were essays

crammed with trite observations, such as delight in a

magazine;--news I never heard from him. If I except _you_, I must

own that all my correspondents on your side of the water are very

like him. Your letter from Dieppe gave me some useful information,

such as might preserve my knee from another _synovia_,[49] or my

neck from a crick; and if you took more delight to penetrate my

character than to fit me for a trip across the water, in your last,

you have at least convinced me that you thought more of _me_ when

you wrote, than of _yourself_,--a phenomenon that at once decides

your character in my mind, and furnishes me with a master-key for

_your_ heart; in any other way you would have found poor Harry

'Too shallow, much too shallow,

To sound the bottom of his Jemmy's mind.'

"I am, I hope, in the last week of my stay in this paradise of mud,

and fricandeaus. God! what additional ecstasies you have lost by

your precipitate flight! So many pictures, which would have

exercised your critical faculty; the _Apotheosis of St.

Petronilla_, by Guercino, in which a colossal dowdy on this side of

the grave is transformed to a celestial beauty on the other; the

_Fontana d' Amore_, by Titian, a picture which transports you to

the plains of Arcadia, or the vale of Enna; the whole-length of

Cardinal _Bentivoglio_, by Vandyck--a soul personified--a male

soul, I mean: for the mirror of all female spirit, soul, mind, and

graces, would have been held up to you by Titian again, in the

portrait of _his Mistress_ untwining her ringlets, or, as Petrarch

would have called them, her

'_Crespe chiome d'or puro lucenti._'

"_Madame, dont je baise les mains_, will explain this to you: and

so much for what you have lost at the Museum.

"Since your departure, we have been joined by Mr. Robert Smirke,

than whom no young man I ever liked more, and only wish and fondly

hope he will say the same of me, when he talks of old men. I have

been with him to see the house of Madame Ricamier, the ultimate

standard of Parisian taste, whose enchanting bedchamber he has not

only measured, but drawn with a taste which improves it. As Harriet

loves Latin as well as Italian, I will gratify you both with the

inscription on the pedestal of a small marble figure of Silence at

the head of the bed. 'Tutatur amores et somnos conscia lecti.'

Halls, who sees, observes, says little, laughs more, is frequently

indisposed, and looks forward to England, requests to be remembered

to you, and may be sure of his request. The inquisitive traveller,

my other companion and manager, does the same, but has not

forgotten that you would not let him stretch his legs on one of the

beds at St. Juste.[50] He and I have been presented to the

"_Section des belles lettres et des beaux arts_" of the Institute

at the Louvre, where we were equally tired, I by understanding, and

he by not understanding, what we heard.--My love to Graham--adieu,

till you see me in Grosvenor-street.

"Henry Fuseli."

"10 Vendemiaire, in Christian,

2d October, 1802."

"I have not yet heard from my wife: if you should be led by your

calls into the neighbourhood of Queen Anne-street, and would tell

them I am coming, you will do a kind thing."

The society of Fuseli, while he was in Paris, was courted by the

principal painters of the French school. David, whom he had known at

Rome, paid him much attention, and wished to introduce him to the First

Consul; this he however declined, as well as many other civilities

which this eminent painter offered, for he frequently said, "When he

looked at David, he could never divest his mind of the atrocities of the

French Revolution, nor separate them from the part which he had then

acted, for they were stamped upon his countenance."[51] Gerard also

showed Fuseli great respect, and on every occasion expressed a high

admiration of his genius.

Every one who visits the galleries of the Louvre to examine its pictures

and statues critically and with care, is convinced that much of their

effect is lost (particularly that of the pictures) in consequence of its

being generally lighted on each side by windows, and only a small

proportion of the picture-gallery by sky-lights. Fuseli, who had seen

and recollected most, if not all, of the celebrated pictures, of the

Italian schools in particular, in the churches or palaces for which they

were painted, and to which the artists had accommodated their light and

shadow, was particularly struck with the difference in their effect, and

deplored their removal. He likewise perceived with great regret, the

injury which they had sustained and were sustaining from the hands of

the French picture-cleaners, or, as they are generally called,

picture-restorers; and that, among others, the celebrated

"Transfiguration," by Raphael, although it had suffered less than most,

was in some degree impaired.

As the peace between England and France was of short duration, one of

the objects of Fuseli's visit was lost, and his observations on the

works of art then in the Louvre were not therefore published. The

memoranda which he made were afterwards incorporated either in his

"Lectures on Painting," in his "Fragment of a History of Art," or in the

observations on the works of artists, in his editions of "Pilkington's

Dictionary of Painters."

In the year 1803, he gave a picture to "The Union" Society at Liverpool:

which he presented to the members, to use his own words, "as a trifling

pledge of gratitude to a country which has reared the humble talents

which I possess." Mr. Roscoe acknowledged the receipt of this picture by

the following letter:--

"MY DEAR FRIEND,

"I have waited, day by day, for the last month, in expectation of

either seeing you or hearing from you; and my patience being now

quite exhausted, I can no longer refrain from enquiring what can be

the reason of this alteration, or, at least, long protraction, of

your intended visit to this place.

"In my last, I endeavoured to express the pleasure I felt in the

hope of seeing you so soon, and only requested that I might have a

line before you left London, that I might arrange matters (being

now a man of business) so as to enjoy as much of your company as

possible. We are now near the middle of November; the fine weather

leaving us, and winter fast approaching; yet I still flatter myself

that I may see you, and shall do so, till I hear from you to the

contrary. Why not spend your Christmas with us, when days are

short, and little professional time can be lost by it? At all

events, let me _hear_ from you, that I may either continue to enjoy

the hope of seeing you, or reconcile myself as well as I can to my

disappointment.

"It is now two or three weeks since the large case of pictures came

safe to hand; "The _Union_" is placed in its proper station, where

it has an uncommonly fine light, and looks extremely well. The

printer of one of our papers wants to say something fine about it,

and has called upon me for a description. Can you suggest what I

shall say as to the _allegorical_ part of it, or shall I try to do

the best I can, both with respect to that and the execution? which

could not have been more suitable, or had a better effect, if you

had seen the place. I know no method that would have so direct a

tendency to encourage the high style of painting in this country,

as the introduction of good pictures into public buildings, and

even churches; on which last subject, I hope to show you some

remarks, which will appear in my Life of Leo X. now almost ready

for the press. I allow this would be little satisfaction to the

artist, if he was to give his time, talents, canvass, and paint, as

some people do. You and I will, however, settle this point, I doubt

not, to our mutual satisfaction.

"Having read thus far, take up your pen without delay, and let me

at least once more see your _magnanimous pothooks_ on the back of a

letter, addressed to your ever faithful and affectionate friend,

"W. Roscoe."

"Liverpool, 12th Nov. 1803."

"P.S. The Allegro and Penseroso are safe at Liverpool, but are much

too large for any situation I can give them at Allerton."

In order to give some notion of Fuseli's projected work, for which

chiefly he went to Paris, the following criticisms upon some of the

pictures then in the Gallery of the Louvre may be acceptable: these he

was kind enough to offer to me when I was about to visit France in the

year 1814.

JULIO ROMANO--THE CIRCUMCISION.

This picture, which is known from the print published in Crozat,

deserves rather to be considered as a curiosity than as the work of

a great master; its composition bears some resemblance to the

cartoon of "Peter and John healing the Lame Man," of Raphael; but

the simplicity and dignity of the master are lost in the crowd with

which the pupil surrounded the ceremony. Though the columns occupy

full as much space, and are as prominent and as full of ornament in

the cartoon as in the picture, and although the principal actors

are placed in both between them, they are not perceived in the work

of Raphael, till we have witnessed the miracle, whilst in that of

Julio, they lead us to the ceremony, which eclipses the actors in

its turn.

PAOLO VERONESE.

1. The Nuptials of Cana.

2. The Feast of Levi the Publican.

3. The Madonna, St. Jerome, &c.

4. The Martyrdom of St. George.

5. Jupiter launching his Thunder on the Crimes.

6. Christ carrying his Cross.

7. The Crucifixion.

8. The Pilgrims of Emaus.

The two first, the third, and last of these pictures, are perhaps

the fullest models of that ornamental style by which a great critic

has discriminated the Venetian from the rest of Italian

styles,--"monsters to the man of native taste, who looks for the

story, for propriety, for national, unartificial costume,--mines of

information to the student and the masters of art." The most

technic comprehension of a magnificent whole, and supreme command

over the infinite variety of its parts, equal suavity, energy, and

ease of execution, go hand in hand with the most chaotic caprice in

the disposition and the most callous tyranny over the character of

the subject. Whatever relates to the theory of colours, of solid,

middle, and aërial tints, to the opposition of hues warm or cold,

and the contrast of light and dark masses, is poised here with

prismatic truth; the whole is a scale of music. It is more by

following the order of nature and of light in the disposition of

the whole, that Paolo attained that illusion, which approaches to

deception, than by the attempt of making _fac similes_ of the

parts. He knew that dark, juicy, and absorbent colours come

forward, that white recedes, and that the middle parts partake of

both, and hence, uniting the two extremes by the intermediate tint,

he obtained that superior harmony on which the Venetian school

rests its superiority of colour, and which Rubens sought with

unequal success in the capricious disposition of a nosegay or a

bunch of flowers.

THE MADONNA OF FOLIGNO--RAPHAEL.

None who has seen this picture at Foligno, will recognize it here.

Whatever praise the ingenious and complicated process of

restoration may deserve, that of having restored to the picture its

original and primitive tone makes certainly no part of it: as well

might the ingredients of a dish ready-dressed by a _restaurateur_

of the _Palais Royal_, be said to resemble the unprepared viands of

which it is composed. I am far from ascribing the want of

resemblance to the restoration; it could only give what

remained--the bleak crudity of its aspect. The comparative

imbecility of some of its parts accuse another hand that

succeeded.[52] Pictures _ex voto_ can claim little merit from

composition. "The Madonna" of Foligno, and the "St. Cecilia" of

Raphael; the "St. Sebastian" of Titian, &c. are discriminated from

each other by little else than by a more or less picturesque

conception of the ground on, or before which the figures are

placed: it is expression, therefore, which makes their chief merit,

and this is the great loss which we have suffered in the "Madonna

of Foligno." Neither the "St. John," the "St. Jerome," nor the head

of "St. Francis," acknowledge the hand, the eye, or the feelings of

Raphael. The "St. John," though perhaps not even in its original

state sufficiently dignified, is become a savage, and what is

worse, a French one. The "St. Francis," and "St. Jerome," have been

tinted into insipidity; but the head of "Sigismond Conti," the

"Madonna and Child," appear to have suffered less, and the angelic

countenance of "The Cherub with the Tablet," beams with its

primitive radiance the impasto of Raphael.