(_For the Mirror_.)
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"The way to be an excellent painter is to be an
excellent man--and these united, make a character
that would shine even in a better world
than this."--JONATHAN RICHARDSON.
The sister arts of _Painting and Engraving_ have been making great
progress in England for some time past, and we are disposed to think
this a subject of congratulation and importance to all classes of the
community.
The literature of the Fine Arts is likewise becoming more and more
popular every day. They form a prominent feature in every new literary
project, and not unfrequently literature, to use a hackneyed phrase,
is made their vehicle--like the namby-pamby of an English opera
for the strains of Rossini or Weber. The public are contented with
excellence in one department and mediocrity in the other; they cannot
be constantly admiring--that is out of the question--and it is
probably on this account that much of what appears _below par_ is
tolerated and even encouraged.
We will not go the length of assenting to the proposal of converting
Sir Joshua Reynolds's Lectures into Sermons, by the mere alteration of
the terms of art into scriptural phraseology; but we venture to assert
that much national good is likely to result from these advances of
art, and its constant introduction into all our amusements. That it
promotes the growth of virtue is too old an axiom to be refuted:
----Ingenuas didicisse fideliter artes
Emollit mores, nec sinit esse feros.
"The Italians commonly call a taste for the fine arts, or skill in
them, by the name of Virtue. They term the productions of artists
objects of virtue; and a person who has a taste for such things is
denominated _a virtuoso_, that is, a virtuous man." Such is the
language of the _Edinburgh Review_, in commencing an article on a
recently-published translation of Lanzi's _History of Painting in
Italy_, in six octavo volumes--and what a delightful relief is this
from the party declamations which usually occupy so large a portion of
that "critical journal." But this is not singular, for it is now no
uncommon thing to see a large letter column of a newspaper, and a
similar proportion of a printed sheet published at twopence, alike
occupied by "the Fine Arts."
Patronage, royal and noble, has already achieved much for painting,
and even the _reported_ project for a National Gallery does much to
foster the art. It keeps the study afloat and uppermost in the public
mind; and the immense increase of exhibitions, not only in London, but
in provincial towns, serves to prove that patronage now consists in
something more substantial than tutelar notice, and unpaid promises.
Artists need no longer journey to the metropolis to find sale for
their works, for their genius is nourished on its native soil by the
liberality and good taste which abound in the neighbourhood of every
important town in the empire. It may be as well to keep up the hue and
cry about the folly of portrait-painting, if it be only to keep down
the vanity of wealth; but the munificent rewards which painters
receive for this branch of their art will enable them to devote a
greater portion of their leisure to higher studies. _Their taste_
will not thus be impugned; for Cooke, the actor, is known to have
entertained the meanest opinion of his own performance of Richard
the Third, as an historical portrait, notwithstanding it was the
corner-stone of his fame. We do not invite the comparison; but Mr.
Hayden began with history--his want of patronage is well known; he
then tried portraits--but his want of success was reserved for the
style of his Mock Election pictures, and, in all probability, they
will turn out the philosopher's stone for his future life.
But it is to the splendid union of Painting, Engraving, and Literature
that much of these beneficial effects may be traced. In every branch
of the fine arts and literature, what a powerful influence will this
triple advancement produce. Only compare the topographical works of
Mr. Britton with those of his predecessors--his highly-finished
line engravings, excellent antiquarian pieces on wood, and erudite
descriptions, with the wretched prints and the quaintnesses of old
topographers--or even with the lumber of some of our county
histories. With this improvement, and that of map-work, painting has
comparatively but little to do; and yet how evident is the progress of
the literature of these works.[2]
It would be easy to adduce hundreds of instances of the recent union
of painting and engraving. About five years ago, a plan was started
for illustrating the Bible from pictures of the old masters. Upwards
of two hundred of them were transferred to wood-blocks; but the scheme
did not repay the ingenious originator--partly from their small size,
uncertainty of _effect_ to be produced on _wood_, and partly from the
very cheap rate at which the engravings were sold--the whole series
being purchaseable for three or four shillings.[3] But a similar
design is now in progress on metal, being the idea of _La Musée_ in
little. It consists of beautiful outline copies of the great
masters, published at so cheap a rate as to be within the reach of
a school-boy. Within the present year, also, two series of Views in
Great Britain, one of Views in London, and another of Paris, have been
publishing at the rate of threepence for each view; and when we see
among their artists the names of Westall, Pugin, and Pye, we have a
sufficient voucher for their excellence.
A passing notice of a few of the more splendid works of art, (for the
above are among the cheap and popular projects of the day,) and we
must conclude.
[2] The only place in which they do not progress mutually is the
theatre. Look at the scenery of our patent theatres, and compare
it with the vulgar daubs even of John Kemble's time. Some of the
scenes by Stanfield, Roberts, Grieve, and Pugh, are "perfect
pictures." Yet the language of the stage is at a stand, and
insipid comedy, dull tragedy, and stupid farce are more abundant
than before the "march of mind".
[3] While on the subject of _wood-engraving_, perhaps we may he
allowed to mention our own humble plan of illustrating a sheet
of letter-press for twopence. Of course, perfection in the
engraving department would have ruined all parties concerned;
for each of our subjects (as the miniature painters tell you of
their works) might be _worked up_ to "any price". It is now six
years since the MIRROR was commenced, and as we are not speaking
of ourselves, individually, we hope we may refer to the
progressive improvement of the _graphic_ department without any
charge of vanity.
It would be tedious to enumerate even a small portion of the fine
pictures which have been engraved during the last two years; the
mention of two or three will answer our purpose. Every printseller's
window will attest the fact. Only let the reader step into Mr.
Colnaghi's parlours, in Cockspur-street, and we might say the spacious
print gallery in Pall Mall. There let him turn over a few of the host
of fine portraits which have been transferred from the canvass to the
copper--the excellent series of royal portraits--and of men whose
names will shine in the history of their country, when their portraits
shall be gathered into the portfolios of a few collectors. Among
portraits, we ought, however, to recollect Mr. Lodge's invaluable
collection of historical characters, the originals of which were
exhibited a few months since, previous to their republication in a
more economical form. The Temple of Jupiter, published a few months
since, is perhaps one of the proudest triumphs of the year. Martin's
Deluge, too, has lately appeared, and we look forward to the
publication of his last splendid picture, the Fall of Nineveh, with
high hopes.
In the SUPPLEMENTARY NUMBER[4] _(published with the present)_ we have
noticed in detail a few of the many superb engravings which embellish
the Christmas presents for the ensuing year, as well as their literary
talent, by a string of extracts like
"Orient pearls at random strung."
The success of these elegant works has benefited our artists to the
sum of twelve thousand pounds, in their preparation for 1829. A
fortnight since we mentioned the cost of the plates of the Literary
Souvenir to be 100_l._ and upwards for each subject. Another work,
still more splendid, (being nearly double the price,) is under the
direction of Mr. Charles Heath, whose masterly hand is visible in some
of the finest engraving ever submitted to the world--equalled only by
a rival in its first year--one of the best proofs of the patronage
these works enjoy. It would be invidious to particularize--but we must
mention the transference of two of Martin's designs--Marcus Curtius
(in the Forget Me Not) and Christ Tempted on the Mount--as two of the
most surprising efforts of genius we have ever witnessed. Our readers
need not be told that all the engravings are _on steel_; and were it
not for the adoption of this lasting metal, the
[4] The engraving is from Prout's exquisite picture of the
magnificent city of _Vicenza_--for which we recollect our
obligation to the "_Forget Me Not_."
cost of half the engravings would exceed that of the whole work: all
we hope is, that the public patronage may be as lasting as the metal;
then it will be no idle vaunt to call this the march, or even race, of
genius. In conclusion, we recommend all our lady friends (who have
not done so) to place on their drawing-room table a _Print Album_, or
_Scrap Book_, to be supported "by voluntary contributions." They may
then form a pretty correct estimate of the taste of their visiters;
and if taste in the fine arts be a test of virtue and integrity, they
may even settle the claims of any two rival aspirants by this fair and
unerring method, which should admit of no appeal.
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