Behold the snake his mystic Rod intwine.
He has in his hand the fascia herbarum, and the crepidae on his feet.
There is a wild-boar represented lying on one side, which I admire as a
master-piece. The savageness of his appearance is finely contrasted
with the case and indolence of the attitude. Were I to meet with a
living boar lying with the same expression, I should be tempted to
stroke his bristles. Here is an elegant bust of Antinous, the favourite
of Adrian; and a beautiful head of Alexander the Great, turned on one
side, with an expression of languishment and anxiety in his
countenance. The virtuosi are not agreed about the circumstance in
which he is represented; whether fainting with the loss of blood which
he suffered in his adventure at Oxydrace; or languishing with the fever
contracted by bathing in the Cydnus; or finally complaining to his
father Jove, that there were no other worlds for him to conquer. The
kneeling Narcissus is a striking figure, and the expression admirable.
The two Bacchi are perfectly well executed; but (to my shame be it
spoken) I prefer to the antique that which is the work of Michael
Angelo Buonaroti, concerning which the story is told which you well
know. The artist having been blamed by some pretended connoisseurs, for
not imitating the manner of the ancients, is said to have privately
finished this Bacchus, and buried it, after having broke off an arm,
which he kept as a voucher. The statue, being dug up by accident, was
allowed by the best judges, to be a perfect antique; upon which
Buonaroti produced the arm, and claimed his own work. Bianchi looks
upon this as a fable; but owns that Vasari tells such another of a
child cut in marble by the same artist, which being carried to Rome,
and kept for some time under ground, was dug up as an antique, and sold
for a great deal of money. I was likewise attracted by the Morpheus in
touchstone, which is described by Addison, who, by the bye,
notwithstanding all his taste, has been convicted by Bianchi of several
gross blunders in his account of this gallery.
With respect to the famous Venus Pontia, commonly called de Medicis,
which was found at Tivoli, and is kept in a separate apartment called
the Tribuna, I believe I ought to be intirely silent, or at least
conceal my real sentiments, which will otherwise appear equally absurd
and presumptuous. It must be want of taste that prevents my feeling
that enthusiastic admiration with which others are inspired at sight of
this statue: a statue which in reputation equals that of Cupid by
Praxiteles, which brought such a concourse of strangers of old to the
little town of Thespiae. I cannot help thinking that there is no beauty
in the features of Venus; and that the attitude is aukward and out of
character. It is a bad plea to urge that the antients and we differ in
the ideas of beauty. We know the contrary, from their medals, busts,
and historians. Without all doubt, the limbs and proportions of this
statue are elegantly formed, and accurately designed, according to the
nicest rules of symmetry and proportion; and the back parts especially
are executed so happily, as to excite the admiration of the most
indifferent spectator. One cannot help thinking it is the very Venus of
Cnidos by Praxiteles, which Lucian describes. "Hercle quanta dorsi
concinnitas! ut exuberantes lumbi amplexantes manus implent! quam scite
circumductae clunium pulpae in se rotundantur, neque tenues nimis ipsis
ossibus adstrictae, neque in immensam effusae Pinguedinem!" That the
statue thus described was not the Venus de Medicis, would appear from
the Greek inscription on the base, KLEOMENIS APPOLLODOROI ATHINAIOS
EPOESEI. Cleomenes filius Apollodori fecit; did we not know that this
inscription is counted spurious, and that instead of EPOESEI, it should
be EPOIESE. This, however, is but a frivolous objection, as we have
seen many inscriptions undoubtedly antique, in which the orthography is
false, either from the ignorance or carelessness of the sculptor.
Others suppose, not without reason, that this statue is a
representation of the famous Phryne, the courtesan of Athens, who at
the celebration of the Eleusinian games, exhibited herself coming out
of the bath, naked, to the eyes of the whole Athenian people. I was
much pleased with the dancing faun; and still better with the Lotti, or
wrestlers, the attitudes of which are beautifully contrived to shew the
different turns of the limbs, and the swelling of the muscles: but,
what pleased me best of all the statues in the Tribuna was the
Arrotino, commonly called the Whetter, and generally supposed to
represent a slave, who in the act of whetting a knife, overhears the
conspiracy of Catiline. You know he is represented on one knee; and
certain it is, I never saw such an expression of anxious attention, as
appears in his countenance. But it is not mingled with any marks of
surprise, such as could not fail to lay hold on a man who overhears by
accident a conspiracy against the state. The marquis de Maffei has
justly observed that Sallust, in his very circumstantial detail of that
conspiracy, makes no mention of any such discovery. Neither does it
appear that the figure is in the act of whetting, the stone which he
holds in one hand being rough and unequal no ways resembling a
whetstone. Others alledge it represents Milico, the freedman of
Scaevinus, who conspired against the life of Nero, and gave his
poignard to be whetted to Milico, who presented it to the emperor, with
an account of the conspiracy: but the attitude and expression will by
no means admit of this interpretation. Bianchi, [This antiquarian is
now imprisoned for Life, for having robbed the Gallery and then set it
on fire.] who shows the gallery, thinks the statue represents the augur
Attius Navius, who cut a stone with a knife, at the command of
Tarquinius Priscus. This conjecture seems to be confirmed by a
medallion of Antoninus Pius, inserted by Vaillant among his Numismata
Prestantiora, on which is delineated nearly such a figure as this in
question, with the following legend. "Attius Navius genuflexus ante
Tarquinium Priscum cotem cultro discidit." He owns indeed that in the
statue, the augur is not distinguished either by his habit or emblems;
and he might have added, neither is the stone a cotes. For my own part,
I think neither of these three opinions is satisfactory, though the
last is very ingenious. Perhaps the figure allude to a private
incident, which never was recorded in any history. Among the great
number of pictures in this Tribuna, I was most charmed with the Venus
by Titian, which has a sweetness of expression and tenderness of
colouring, not to be described. In this apartment, they reckon three
hundred pieces, the greatest part by the best masters, particularly by
Raphael, in the three manners by which he distinguished himself at
different periods of his life. As for the celebrated statue of the
hermaphrodite, which we find in another room, I give the sculptor
credit for his ingenuity in mingling the sexes in the composition; but
it is, at best, no other than a monster in nature, which I never had
any pleasure in viewing: nor, indeed, do I think there was much talent
required in representing a figure with the head and breasts of a woman,
and all the other parts of the body masculine. There is such a
profusion of curiosities in this celebrated musaeum; statues, busts,
pictures, medals, tables inlaid in the way of marquetry, cabinets
adorned with precious stones, jewels of all sorts, mathematical
instruments, antient arms and military machines, that the imagination
is bewildered, and a stranger of a visionary turn, would be apt to
fancy himself in a palace of the fairies, raised and adorned by the
power of inchantment.
In one of the detached apartments, I saw the antependium of the altar,
designed for the famous chapel of St. Lorenzo. It is a curious piece of
architecture, inlaid with coloured marble and precious stones, so as to
represent an infinite variety of natural objects. It is adorned with
some crystal pillars, with capitals of beaten gold. The second story of
the building is occupied by a great number of artists employed in this
very curious work of marquetry, representing figures with gems and
different kinds of coloured marble, for the use of the emperor. The
Italians call it pietre commesse, a sort of inlaying with stones,
analogous to the fineering of cabinets in wood. It is peculiar to
Florence, and seems to be still more curious than the Mosaic work,
which the Romans have brought to great perfection.
The cathedral of Florence is a great Gothic building, encrusted on the
outside with marble; it is remarkable for nothing but its cupola, which
is said to have been copied by the architect of St. Peter's at Rome,
and for its size, which is much greater than that of any other church
in Christendom. [In this cathedral is the Tomb of Johannes Acutus
Anglus, which a man would naturally interpret as John Sharp; but his
name was really Hawkwood, which the Italians have corrupted into Acut.
He was a celebrated General or Condottiere who arrived in Italy at the
head of four thousand soldiers of fortune, mostly Englishmen who had
served with him in the army of King Edward III., and were dismissed at
the Peace of Bontigny. Hawkwood greatly distinguished himself in Italy
by his valour and conduct, and died a very old man in the Florentine
service. He was the son of a Tanner in Essex, and had been put
apprentice to a Taylor.] The baptistery, which stands by it, was an
antient temple, said to be dedicated to Mars. There are some good
statues of marble within; and one or two of bronze on the outside of
the doors; but it is chiefly celebrated for the embossed work of its
brass gates, by Lorenzo Ghiberti, which Buonaroti used to say, deserved
to be made the gates of Paradise. I viewed them with pleasure: but
still I retained a greater veneration for those of Pisa, which I had
first admired: a preference which either arises from want of taste, or
from the charm of novelty, by which the former were recommended to my
attention. Those who would have a particular detail of every thing
worth seeing at Florence, comprehending churches, libraries, palaces,
tombs, statues, pictures, fountains, bridge, etc. may consult Keysler,
who is so laboriously circumstantial in his descriptions, that I never
could peruse them, without suffering the headache, and recollecting the
old observation, that the German genius lies more in the back than in
the brain.
I was much disappointed in the chapel of St. Lorenzo. Notwithstanding
the great profusion of granite, porphyry, jasper, verde antico,
lapis-lazuli, and other precious stones, representing figures in the
way of marquetry, I think the whole has a gloomy effect. These pietre
commesse are better calculated for cabinets, than for ornaments to
great buildings, which ought to be large masses proportioned to the
greatness of the edifice. The compartments are so small, that they
produce no effect in giving the first impression when one enters the
place; except to give an air of littleness to the whole, just as if a
grand saloon was covered with pictures painted in miniature. If they
have as little regard to proportion and perspective, when they paint
the dome, which is not yet finished, this chapel will, in my opinion,
remain a monument of ill taste and extravagance.
The court of the palace of Pitti is formed by three sides of an elegant
square, with arcades all round, like the palace of Holyrood house at
Edinburgh; and the rustic work, which constitutes the lower part of the
building, gives it an air of strength and magnificence. In this court,
there is a fine fountain, in which the water trickles down from above;
and here is also an admirable antique statue of Hercules, inscribed
LUSIPPOI ERGON, the work of Lysippus.
The apartments of this palace are generally small, and many of them
dark. Among the paintings the most remarkable is the Madonna de la
Seggiola, by Raphael, counted one of the best coloured pieces of that
great master. If I was allowed to find fault with the performance, I
should pronounce it defective in dignity and sentiment. It is the
expression of a peasant rather than of the mother of God. She exhibits
the fondness and joy of a young woman towards her firstborn son,
without that rapture of admiration which we expect to find in the
Virgin Mary, while she contemplates, in the fruit of her own womb, the
Saviour of mankind. In other respects, it is a fine figure, gay,
agreeable, and very expressive of maternal tenderness; and the bambino
is extremely beautiful. There was an English painter employed in
copying this picture, and what he had done was executed with great
success. I am one of those who think it very possible to imitate the
best pieces in such a manner, that even the connoisseurs shall not be
able to distinguish the original from the copy. After all, I do not set
up for a judge in these matters, and very likely I may incur the
ridicule of the virtuosi for the remarks I have made: but I am used to
speak my mind freely on all subjects that fall under the cognizance of
my senses; though I must as freely own, there is something more than
common sense required to discover and distinguish the more delicate
beauties of painting. I can safely say, however, that without any
daubing at all, I am, very sincerely--Your affectionate humble servant.