and gave a trimming to the physicians and to medicine. Afterwards, I
compiled the _Elements of pure Mathematics, according to the Abbé de la
Caille_, for my own improvement, and it was printed at Rome at the
instance of some of my friends. I then wrote other works, and shall
continue writing as long as I live. A treatise on the stage was much
controverted at Rome. When I conceived that I had made some progress in
my architectural studies, I wrote with a degree of _bravura_, the
_Elements of Civil Architecture_, which has been reprinted many times.
My _Art of seeing in the Fine Arts_ is a little book which made some
noise in the world, and particularly displeased the stupid adorers of
Buonarroti. In compliance afterwards with the wishes of a distinguished
friend (Cav. Zulian, ambassador of the republic of Venice at Rome), I
undertook to write a work to point out the beauties and deformities of
ancient and modern Rome; and I published the first part with the title
of _Roma delle belle Arti del Disegno_; but the persecution of ignorant
professors rendered it necessary to suspend the second and third. After
this work I attached myself to natural history, and wrote a great deal
on plants and animals, without printing anything, except the translation
of Bowles’s _Introduction to the Natural History and Physical Geography
of Spain_, which was published at Parma. After this, Bailly’s _History
of Ancient and Modern Astronomy_ came into my hands, and I made an
abridgment of it in one volume in octavo. The Encyclopædia Methodica
furnished me with the means of making a _Pocket Dictionary of the Fine
Arts_, published in two volumes. The article, _Engraving_, in this
dictionary, was also printed separately, with some additions. In
compliance with the wish of my illustrious friend the Cav. D. Nicola de
Azara, I exerted myself considerably in the compilation of the works of
Mengs. I have now completed a Dictionary of Domestic Medicine, on the
plan of that of W. Buchan, a Scotch physician, which, if printed, will
make two volumes in octavo, and will be intelligible to everybody.
Another little work on political economy is now in the press; a subject
to which I have attached myself, in spite of the unsuitable
circumstances of the present times.” Milizia died in March, 1798, of an
inflammation in the lungs.
From this rambling compiler, whose attention was directed sometimes one
way, and sometimes another, you will perhaps expect nothing but an echo
of the opinions of others in a form somewhat different. I know nothing
of his other works, but in architecture he is remarkable for the
boldness of his original speculations. He seems to have been a man of a
powerful understanding, not very patient of labour; confident in
himself; not taking up opinions on the faith of another; and never
hesitating to expose, and to defend his own. Architecture exactly wanted
such a writer. It was in a languid state in Italy, vibrating like
politics and religion, between a slavish adherence to rules not
understood, and entire license. He who had liberated himself from these
arbitrary shackles, considered himself free from all restraint, and
never thought of being reasonable, either in his submission or
rebellion. Milizia applies reason to every thing, and his fault is in
being too reasonable, that is, in endeavouring to found upon reason,
certain practices which are only conventional, and which we follow
because experience has shewn that they please, without our being able to
assign the cause of this pleasure. He writes with spirit, and frequently
with a severe sarcastic wit which will insure his being read; and he
possesses a singularly happy and forcible mode of expression, to which
the Italian language in his hands, seems wonderfully suited: had he
written in one of our northern languages, he would have been frequently
forced and harsh, and it would be difficult to translate him, and
preserve any portion of his spirit, without falling into this defect.
Though strongly vindicating his own freedom, he is much inclined to lay
down arbitrary rules for others, and even to applaud a despotic exertion
of the authority of government in matters of taste; not considering that
the true use of rules is to guide, not to govern us; that they are
merely the direction posts which mark the road pursued by some of those
who have advanced farthest towards the conception of perfect beauty.
Other, and even better roads, may possibly exist, but it does not show
good sense to be ignorant of what has been proved good, or to desert the
known track without well understanding what it is, and what direction it
takes, as well as the nature of the country we have to pass over.
I shall proceed to give you some notion of the individual works of this
author, taking them in the order in which he mentions them, which is
that of their production. The _Memorie degli Architetti_ is preceded by
a general view of the principles of the art. He contends that
architecture is an imitative art, and he makes its claim to be
considered as one of the fine arts, to consist in this imitation. In
this he is evidently wrong, as the claim of this, or any other, to a
place among the fine arts, depends on its power of exciting mental
emotion. He then proceeds to give what he considers as fixed and
unalterable rules, which, as they are here given in a condensed form,
and are the same which he insists upon in his later works, I shall
translate.
“Architecture, like every other fine art, is subject to the following
general rules.
1. “In all its productions, we should find an agreeable correspondence
of the parts with the whole. This is known by the name of _symmetry_.
2. “It ought to have variety, lest the spectator’s attention should be
wearied; and _unity_, which is opposed to confusion and disorder. This
is comprehended in the term _eurithmia_.
3. “Convenience, or suitableness, is also a necessary quality. This
consists in a just application of symmetry and eurithmia, and of that
relation which ought to subsist between an edifice, and the purpose to
which it is applied; between the details of ornament, and the general
appearance of the building, chusing the most appropriate, and the style
which accords best with the magnificence or simplicity of the structure.
4. “If architecture be the daughter of necessity, every beauty which it
possesses ought to connect itself with that necessity, and to appear
made for some useful purpose. In every art which administers to
pleasure, the artifice ought not to be discovered; every thing done for
mere ornament is a defect.
5. “The principal ornaments of architecture are its orders, which in
fact are rather to be considered as the skeleton, and most essential
part of the edifice, than as mere ornament. We might therefore define
the orders, _necessary ornaments arising from the nature of the
edifice_. All the other decorations of architecture are subject to the
same law.
6. “Consequently, in architecture the decoration is the result of the
construction. Nothing is ever to be seen in a fabric, that has not its
appropriate use, and is not an essential part of the structure: the
office that it indicates, it ought to perform.
7. “Consequently, nothing is admissible for which a good reason cannot
be rendered.
8. “These reasons are to be deduced from the origin and analysis of that
primitive natural architecture, the hut; from whence has arisen the
beautiful imitative art of civil architecture. This is the pole-star of
the artist in his works, and of the intelligent observer in examining
them. Everything should rest upon truth and verisimilitude. What could
not really exist, cannot be approved, although evidently a matter of
mere show.
9. “Examples and authority, however they may be appealed to, will never
influence him who wishes to be reasonable.
“These principles are constant, positive, general; because they depend
on the nature of the thing itself; and on good sense. Taken together,
they constitute the true and essential beauty of architecture; if they
are kept out of view, adieu architecture. It is no more a science or an
art, but is changed into mere fashion, caprice, or delirium.”
You see there are some things in these first principles which might be
criticised, or at least, which require explanation; there is much more
of a disputable nature in the details, but all is laid down in the same
authoritative manner. Other rules are to be despised; his are to be
obeyed; and he seems to think, that if the rules are good, the artist
has only to follow them in order to produce the highest degree of
beauty; a theory, you know, totally opposite to mine, who hold, that in
all the fine arts, rules can do comparatively little to produce beauty;
the expression of Mind is the great essential; and if the mind itself
contain it not, no rules, no labour, can ever make good the deficiency.
The work itself consists of a chronological account of architects, a
mode of compilation in which the Italians are very rich, and where the
names of Tiraboschi, Lanzi, and Milizia, will always be mentioned with
praise. In the earlier parts there are perhaps many things on very
slight authority, but the author seems always to have sought carefully,
the best within his reach. The criticisms are more severe, where he had
the opportunity of judging for himself, than where he adopts them from
others; but he is always animated, and ready to admire what is
excellent, as well as to ridicule what is defective. It is gratifying to
an architect to observe, that almost all the great men in that
profession were long lived, and of a good moral character.
The _Principii di Architettura Civile_, in three octavo volumes,
contains the same view of the subject, carried out into all its
bearings, as that sketched in the preface to the _Memorie degli
Architetti_. In spite of the apparently limited nature of the subject,
he has made great part of his book interesting, and even amusing. Like
Vitruvius, he is fond of introducing a little natural history, and he is
hardly more correct, or more to the purpose than his Latin original. I
have sometimes had thoughts of translating both this and the preceding,
but I must be permitted to leave out some of these accessories.
Of the _Arte di Vedere_, I have already made mention on two or three
occasions. Milizia had probably been disgusted by the extravagant
praises so lavishly bestowed on Michael Angelo, and echoed from one
writer to another; and in this book he sees nothing but his defects. No
wonder then, that it offended the “stupid adorers of Buonarroti,” and
the sensible ones too. On this, and several other occasions, Milizia
gives to Mengs a degree of praise which the present age disclaims. In
the _Roma delle belle Arti_, praise and blame are more mixed. The
offence seems to have been taken from the force and spirit of the
remarks, rather than their direction; he may sometimes exaggerate, but
he rarely blames on grounds either insufficient or mistaken. The
_Dictionary_ is by no means a mere compilation; Milizia could not write
without criticising, and no man was less disposed to adopt implicitly
the observations and sentiments of another. He has in these works
frequently repeated himself, but they all contain much original matter.
It seems ridiculous to compare the advantages which an English student
in architecture may derive from our academy, with those offered at Paris
or Rome, but the spirit and energy of individuals makes up what is
wanting in public instruction. A most important part of an architect’s
education, is that which he receives abroad, but perhaps a little more
assistance at home might enable him to employ his time to greater
advantage. It is impossible to give any precise rules, because the best
possible line of conduct will vary with the talents, the acquirements,
and disposition of the individual; some observations however may be made
which will apply to all.
A certain portion of knowledge ought to be attained at home, and
therefore my first undertaking will be to point out what ought to be
learned, previous to any attempt at improvement by travelling. A task
the more necessary, because there is, as far as I know, no instruction
now usually given, either public or private, by which it is indicated.
The student in architecture has to consider four objects, which have no
natural connexion with each other, but which nevertheless must be united
in the erection of every edifice, _beauty_, _solidity_, _convenience_,
and _economy_. Our exclusion for many years from the continent, no less
perhaps than a somewhat severe, and rigid spirit, which requires in
every thing utility, and almost limits that utility to bodily
accommodation, has inclined us to neglect the study of the beautiful.
Other reasons might be added, and in particular the notion very
prevalent among the students themselves, that the conception of beauty,
and the capacity of producing it, are gifts of nature, not the fruit of
application; “Poeta nascitur, non fit,” they apply to artists as well as
to poets, and support their opinion by the very remarkable fact, that
the great men in every country have been formed independently of
academies, and that after such establishments are formed, great men
cease. There is undoubtedly some truth in this, and it would be very
desirable that some one capable of the task would undertake to explain
the reason of the deficiency; but when it is applied as a reason against
study, it is, as far as regards architecture, completely false. Because
supposing even that the highest beauties should present themselves
unsought to the man of genius, yet, whatever talent he might have, it
would require great study to be able to comprehend the relation between
the object to be produced, and the drawings and descriptions by which it
is to be explained to others. Nor is it at all true that the most
celebrated architects have wanted the means of instruction. Palladio,
and all the others who have highly distinguished themselves, have
enriched their fancy, and purified their taste, by studying the ancient
monuments of Rome. Michael Angelo in his old age was found by Cardinal
Farnese at the Coliseum, when the ground was covered with snow, and
replied to the inquiries of the cardinal, that he was there to study
architecture.
According to the usual practice of our architects, a lad, after he has
left school, where he has learned to read and write, arithmetic, a
little geometry, and perhaps a very little drawing, together with some
other things not applicable to architecture, is placed in an architect’s
office, where his first employments are probably, to copy particulars of
work, without understanding them, and to square dimensions from nine in
the morning till seven or eight in the evening. After this, if he is
studiously inclined, he may perhaps go to the academy at Somerset House,
where in the course of a year, he may hear six lectures on architecture,
provided that is, that the professor is neither sick, nor idle, nor too
busy to give them; or he will employ himself at home in making designs,
without at all knowing what are the requisites for any mode of design
whatever. When thus, as it were almost in spite of his master, he has
learned to draw a little, he may be employed in copying plans, and
afterwards elevations and sections, or in measuring the works erected by
his superior, not to make himself master of their beauties, but in order
to furnish the materials for estimating their value. Perhaps the
difficulty of improving himself under these disadvantages may give a
stimulus to his exertions; and he does not come out of the office so
ignorant as might be expected. Nor indeed, although his professed
instructor will not teach, will he refuse him an opportunity of
occasionally frequenting private schools of drawing and perspective, or
of attending sometimes at the library of the Academy, or in the
model-room. He may also perhaps have exercised himself in measuring and
drawing the subjects proposed for annual premiums, but with all this it
is impossible that he should be prepared to travel with advantage.
I would not recommend every one to travel. Those who prosecute
architecture merely as a means of obtaining money, without any pleasure
in any part of it, without any desire of fame, or any generous
admiration of excellence, had much better stay at home. They may rest
confidently assured that travelling will never _pay_. It would indeed be
better that such should not addict themselves to architecture in the
first instance, or to any of the fine arts; the same exertion of talents
and industry would assuredly have been more profitably employed in
another direction. The pleasure arising from the occupation itself, the
respectability attending its honourable exercise, the hope of future
reputation and fame, will entice in this direction a greater number of
young men than would otherwise fall to its share; and these things are
always to be considered as part of payment. Yet this, though true in all
countries, is probably less so in England, than anywhere else, because
we almost measure a man’s merit by the money he gets, or at least by
that which he is able to spend; and therefore without travelling, and
without any intimate knowledge of his profession, a young man need not
despair of making his way. And especially, if he join agreeable manners
to attention to business, he will find employers, who will care even
less than he can do, for science and art; and he may perhaps in time be
on the Board of Works. Our ministers will rarely take the trouble to
appreciate any superior acquirements in architecture; witness the mode
in which various public bodies have furnished themselves with
architects; witness the report on the postoffice, where it was stated,
if I recollect right, that as much ornament was not required, it
mattered little whom they employed as architect. As if such an edifice,
because it did not pretend to be magnificent, were to be entirely devoid
of character; as if good proportions, and a graceful distribution of the
different parts, did not form a most essential part of the study of the
architect; and were not even more rare, and more important
qualifications, than the employment of ornament; and as if convenience,
solidity, and economy, were not more securely obtained under the
direction of a skilful artist.
Notwithstanding these absurdities, he who has nobler views need not
despair. We have many gentlemen in England, who join to a cultivated
mind and correct taste, a very extensive knowledge of architecture; and
sooner or later, merit will find its true place in the public esteem,
which follows where such men lead the way. Leaving therefore the
ignorant and grovelling, to be protected by those who resemble them, I
shall proceed to consider what ought to be known, and what done by him
who travels to improve himself.
In the first place, I require of him that he should be able to read
French and Italian with tolerable facility, and that he should speak
them both a little. He ought to understand well the orders of
architecture, so as to be able to sketch any one correctly without
reference to his books, and to be acquainted with their varieties in the
principal published examples. He must have been accustomed to draw, from
casts or from the stone, the usual architectural ornaments, and
particularly the Corinthian capital; making of them plans, elevations,
sections, and views: every thing necessary in order completely to
understand them himself, and to enable him to explain them to others. I
say nothing of his ability to take the general plans, &c. of buildings,
because I consider it as a matter of course. He should be capable of
representing these ornaments justly, not only on flat, but also on
curved surfaces, as for instance, on a vault or a dome; and this not
only geometrically, but also in perspective, and he must understand
exactly the forms assumed in perspective by the different curves of the
Doric capital, and of the Attic base, and the effect of light and shade
upon them: a subject perhaps, in spite of its extreme simplicity, more
difficult to manage than the Corinthian capital. All these seem to be
absolutely necessary to facilitate the correct understanding and
delineation of the objects he may meet with on his journey; and their
effects, both as single objects, and in combination with other parts and
accompaniments. Let me add, that if he had at least attempted to model
some of them, it would be a great advantage to him, as this act requires
a still more precise acquaintance with form, than even the correct
drawing. He should also be able to sketch landscapes and figures; not as
a professed painter or sculptor, but enough to explain the effect both
of situation, and of the addition of statues and bas-reliefs; and to
form at least a scale to his drawings, by the introduction of living
objects.
This power of sketching is considered by some architects as a luxury of
the art, rather than as essential to the perfection of the artist; but
it appears to me of the greatest importance. The geometrical designs,
the measures both of the parts, and of the whole, he may obtain from
books; what he is particularly to study is the relation between these,
and the effect produced on his mind by the use of these measures; his
sketches are records of his own feelings, and therefore engravings would
not supply their place; even if we had good views, which is notoriously
not the case, of most of the admired buildings of Europe; nor is it
enough to consider a design merely from one point of view; it should be
examined from many points, and compared, mentally at least, with the
geometrical drawing. It is exactly that relation of cause and effect
which is the proper object of his study. As for figures, if he is making
drawings on a large scale, it will be better to apply to an artist, but
he cannot always do this, and ought to be able to supply them tolerably
well of himself. I do not in either case require that he should be a
finished artist, but merely that he should be able to express himself in
this language with intelligence and feeling. Some of these acquirements
are perhaps better attained in Paris than in London; and in consequence,
some of our artists, before travelling into Italy, have put themselves
for a year under the direction of a French architect, and frequented the
academy. The plan is a good one on many accounts, although perhaps many
parents might tremble, at leaving a young man, at an age when the
passions are strong, and reason weak, exposed without any shelter, to
the temptations of Paris. The propriety of this will depend very much on
the character and circumstances of the student, nor can I pretend to
give any advice on the subject. In point of architecture, every nation
has a manner of its own. Some peculiar defects would probably be avoided
by free intercourse with the artists of other countries, and the
instructions at the French academy are very good.
So much for the beautiful in architecture: in construction there is less
to be learned in travelling, but the student must not be ignorant of it.
He should know the elements of geometry and the mathematics, and of
their application to mechanics. He must be acquainted with the usual
method of forming roofs, and floors, and the principles which determine
the magnitudes of the different parts; and will have learned the general
rules which regulate the thickness of piers and walls, which have to
support the action of vaults and arches. It is not necessary that he
should be a profound mathematician, or able on every occasion to
calculate the value of active and opposing forces. Calculations have
been made by much better mathematicians than he is likely to be, and
besides, such results are subject to so many exceptions and
modifications, arising from the imperfect nature of the materials, that
experience at last is found to be the principal guide.
Convenience is principally studied in plans, but the manners of
different countries vary so widely, that what would be perfectly
satisfactory in one place, would be considered as very defective in
another: nevertheless, it is useful to observe the different
distribution of the apartments in different places, and to understand
their merits as connected with the manners of the inhabitants.