One of the causes of the want of encouragement in NATIONAL ANTIQUITIES,

among the French, may arise from the natural love of the people for what is

gay and gaudy, rather than for what is grave and instructive. And yet, when

will nations learn that few things tend so strongly to keep alive a pure

spirit of PATRIOTISM as _such_ a study or pursuit? As we reverence the

past, so do we anticipate the future. To love what our forefathers have

done in arts, in arms, or in learning, is to lay the surest foundation for

a proper respect for our own memories in after ages. But with Millin, I

fear, the study of Archaeology will sleep soundly, if not expire, among the

Parisians. VISCONTI has doubtless left a splendid name behind him here; but

Visconti was an Italian. No; my friend--the ARTS have recently taken an

exclusive turn for the admiration, even to adoration, of portrait and

historical painters: No LYSONSES, no BLORES, no MACKENZIES are patronised

either at Paris or in the other great cities of France. I must however make

an honourable exception in favour of the direction given to the splendid

talents of MADAME JAQUOTOT. And I cannot, in common justice, omit, on this

occasion, paying a very sincere tribute of respect to the PRESENT

KING[193]--who has really been instrumental to this direction. I have

lately paid this clever lady a morning visit, with a letter of introduction

from our common friend M. Langlès. As I was very courteously received, I

begged that I might only see such specimens of her art as would give her

the least possible trouble, and afford me at the same time an opportunity

of judging of her talents.

Madame Jaquotot was as liberal in the display of her productions, as she

was agreeable and polite in her conversation. I saw all her performances.

Her copies of Leonardo da Vinci and Guido, in black crayons, are beautiful

of their kind; but her enamel copies, upon porcelaine, of the _Portraits of

the more celebrated Characters of France_--executed at the desire and

expense of his Majesty--perfectly delighted me. The plan is as excellent as

its execution is perfect. But such performances have not been accomplished

without a heavy previous expense, on the score of experiments. I was told

that the artist had sunk a sum little short of five or six hundred pounds

sterling, in the different processes for trying and fixing her colours. But

she seems now to walk upon firm ground, and has nothing but an abundant

harvest to look forward to. Indeed, for every portrait, square, or oval,

(although scarcely more than _three inches_ in height) she receives a

hundred louis d'or. This is a truly princely remuneration: but I do not

consider it overpaid. Some of the earlier portraits are taken from

illuminated manuscripts; and, among them, I quickly recognised that of my

old friend _Anne of Brittany_,--head and shoulders only: very brilliant and

characteristic--but Mr. Lewis is "yet a painter."

As all these bijoux (amounting perhaps to twelve or fifteen in number) were

displayed before me, I fancied I was conversing with the very Originals

themselves. The whole length of _Henri IV_., of the same size as the

original in the Louvre, is probably the chef d'oeuvre of Madame Jaquotot.

It is exquisitely perfect. When she comes down to the reign of Louis XIV.,

she has necessarily recourse to the originals of PETITOT; of which the

Louvre contains a precious glazed case, enclosing about four or five dozen,

of them. Here again the copyist treads closely upon the heels of her

predecessor; while her portrait of _Anne of Austria_ comes fully up to

every thing we discover in the original. Upon the whole, I spent a pleasant

and most instructive hour with this accomplished lady; and sincerely wish

that all talents, like hers, may receive a similar direction and meet with

an equally liberal reward. You must not fail to bear in mind that, in my

humble judgment, this department of art belongs strictly to NATIONAL

ANTIQUITIES.

For _one_, who would turn his horse's head towards Madame Jaquotot's

dwelling, in the _Rue Jacob_, fifty would fly with rapture to view a whole

length by GÉRARD, or a group by DAVID. In portrait painting, and historical

composition, these are the peculiar heroes. None dare walk within their

circle: although I think GIRODET may sometimes venture to measure swords

with the latter. Would you believe it? The other day, when dining with some

smart, lively, young Parisians, I was compelled to defend RAFFAELLE against

David? the latter being considered by them _superior_ to the Italian artist

in a _knowledge of drawing_. Proh pudor! This will remind you of Jervas's

celebrated piece of nonsensical flattery to himself--when, on Pope's

complimenting that artist upon one of his portraits, he compassionately

exclaimed "_Poor little Tit_!"--Surely all these national prejudices are as

unwise as they are disgusting. Of Gérard, I would wish to speak with

respect; but an artist, who receives from fifteen to twenty thousand francs

for the painting of a whole length portrait, stands upon an eminence which

exposes him to the observation of every man. In the same degree, also, does

his elevation provoke the criticism of every man. But, however respectfully

I may wish to speak of Gérard, I do not, in my conscience, consider him

superior to what may be called the _second rate_ class of portrait-painters

in England.[194] His outline is often hard, and full of affectation of a

knowledge of drawing: his colouring is as frequently severe and metallic,

and there is rarely any expression of mind or soul in his faces. I saw at

Laugier's the other day, his portrait of Madame de Stael--painted from

_recollection_. He certainly had _forgotten_ how to _colour_ when he

executed it. Forster (a very clever, sensible, and amiable young man) is

busied, or rather has just finished, the engraving of a portrait of the

Duke of Wellington, by the same painter. What has depended upon _him_ has

been charmingly done: but the figure of the great Original--instead of

giving you the notion of the FIRST CAPTAIN OF HIS AGE[195]--is a poor,

trussed-up, unmeaning piece of composition: looking-out of the canvas with

a pair of eyes, which, instead of seeming to anticipate and frustrate (as

they _have_ done) the movements of his adversary, as if by magic, betray an

almost torpidity or vacancy of expression! The attitude is equally

unnatural and ungraceful. Another defect, to my eye, in Gérard's portraits,

is, the quantity of flaunting colour and glare of varnish with which his

canvas is covered.

The French cognoscenti swear by "the _swearing of the Horatii_" of David. I

saw a reduced copy of the large picture at the Luxembourg, by the artist

himself--at Didot's: and it was while discussing the comparative merits and

demerits of this famous production, that I ventured to observe that

Raffaelle would have drawn the hands better. A simultaneous shout of

opposition followed the remark. I could scarcely preserve common gravity or

decorum: but as my antagonists were serious, I was also resolved to enact a

serious part. It is not necessary to trouble you with a summary of my

remarks; although I am persuaded I never talked so much French, without

interruption, for so long a space of time. However, my opponents admitted,

with a little reluctance, that, if the hands of the Horatii were not ill

drawn, the _position_ of them was sufficiently affected. I then drew their

attention, to the _Cupid and Psyche_ of the same master, in the collection

of the Marquis of Sommariva, (in the notice of which my last letter was

pretty liberal) but I had here a less obstinate battle to encounter. It

certainly appeared (they admitted) that David did not improve as he became

older.

Among the Painters of eminence I must not forget to mention LAURENT. The

French are not very fond of him, and certainly they under-rate his talents.

As a colourist, some of his satins may vie with those of Vanderwerf. He

paints portraits, in small, as well as fancy-subjects. Of the former, that

of his daughter is beautifully executed. Of the latter, his _Young

Falconer_ is a production of the most captivating kind. But it is his _Joan

of Arc_ which runs away with the prize of admiration. The Government have

purchased the house in which that celebrated female was born,[196] and over

the door of which an ancient statue of her is to be seen. Laurent's

portrait is also purchased to be placed over the chimney-piece of the room;

and it is intended to supply furniture, of the character which it

originally might have possessed.

But if France cannot now boast her Mignard, Rigaud, or the Poussins, she

has reason to be proud of her present race of _Engravers_. Of these,

DESNOYERS evidently takes the lead. He is just now in Italy, and I shall

probably not see him--having twice called in vain. I own undisguisedly that

I am charmed with all his performances; and especially with his sacred

subjects from Raffaelle:--whom, it is just possible, he may consider to be

a somewhat better draftsman than David. There is hardly any thing but what

he adorns by his touch. He may consider the whole length portrait of

_Bonaparte_ to be his chef-d'oeuvre; but his _Vierge au Linge, Vierge dite

la Belle Jardinière_,--and perhaps, still finer, that called _au

Donataire_--are infinitely preferable, to my taste. The portrait has too

much of detail. It is a combination of little parts; of flowered robes,

with a cabinet-like background: every thing being almost mechanical, and

the shield of the ex-Emperor having all the elaborate minutiæ of Grignion.

I am heretic enough to prefer the famous whole length of poor Louis XVI, by

Bervic after Callet: there is such a flow of line and gracefulness of

expression in this latter performance! But Desnoyers has uncommon force, as

well as sweetness and tenderness, in the management of historical subjects:

although I think that his recent production of _Eliezer and Rebecca_, from

_Nicolo Poussin_, is unhappy--as to choice. His females have great

elegance. His line never flows more freely than in the treatment of his

female figures; yet he has nothing of the style of finishing of our

STRANGE. His _Francis_ I, and _Marguerite de Valois_ is, to my eye, one of

the most finished, successful, and interesting of his performances. It is

throughout a charming picture, and should hang over half the mantle pieces

in the kingdom. His portrait of _Talleyrand_ is brilliant; but there are

parts very much too black. It will bear no comparison with the glorious

portrait of our _John Hunter_, by Sharp--from Sir J. Reynolds. Desnoyers

engraves only for himself: that is to say, he is the sole proprietor of his

performances, and report speaks him to be in the receipt of some

twenty-five thousand francs per annum. He deserves all he has gained--both

in fortune and reputation.

MASSARD works in the same school with Desnoyers. He is harder in his style

of outline as well as of finishing; but he understands his subject

thoroughly, and treats it with skill and effect. ANDOUIN is lately come out

with a whole length portrait of the present king: a palpable copy, as to

composition, of that of his late brother. There are parts of the detail

most exquisitely managed, but the countenance is rather too severely

marked. LIGNON is the prince of portrait-engravers. His head of

_Mademoiselle Mars_--though, upon the whole, exhibiting a flat, and

unmeaning countenance, when we consider that it represents the first comic

actress in Europe--is a master-piece of graphic art. It is wrought with

infinite care, brilliancy, and accuracy. The lace, over the lady's

shoulder, may bid defiance even to what Drevet and Masson have effected of

the like kind. The eyes and the gems of Mademoiselle Mars seem to sparkle

with a rival lustre; but the countenance is too flat, and the nose wants

elevation and beauty. For this latter, however, neither Gérard nor Lignon

are amenable to criticism. Upon the whole, it is a very surprising

performance. If I were called upon to notice Lignon's chef d'oeuvre, I

would mention the frontispiece to the magnificent impression of _Camoens'

Lusiad_, containing the head of the author, surrounded by an arabesque

border of the most surprising brilliancy of composition and execution. You

must however remember, that it is in the splendid work entitled LE MUSÉE

FRANÇAIS, that many fine specimens of all the artists just mentioned are to

be found. There is no occasion to be more particular in the present place.

I must not omit the notice of FORSTER and LAUGIER: both of whom I have

visited more than once. At the same time, I beg it may be distinctly

understood that the omission of the names of _other_ engravers is no

implication that they are passed over as being unworthy of regard. On the

contrary, there are several whom I could mention who might take precedence

even of the two last noticed. Some of Forster's academic figures, which

gained him the prize, are very skilfully treated; both as to drawing and

finishing. His print of _Titian's Mistress_ exhibits, in the face and bosom

of the female, a power and richness of effect which may contend with some

of the best efforts of Desnoyers's burin. The reflex-light, in the mirror

behind, is admirably managed; but the figure of Titian, and the lower parts

of his Mistress--especially the arms and hands--are coarse, black, and

inharmonious. His _Wellington_ is a fine performance, as to mechanical

skill. M. Bénard, the well-known print-seller to his Majesty, living on the

_Boulevards Italiens_, laughed with me the other day at the rival

Wellington--painted by Lawrence, and engraved by Bromley,--as a piece of

very inferior art! But men may laugh on the wrong side of the face. I

consider, however, that what has depended upon Forster, has been done with

equal ability and truth. Undoubtedly the great failing of the picture is,

that it can hardly be said to have even a faint resemblance of the

original.

M. Laugier has not yet reached his full powers of maturity; but what he has

done is remarkable for feeling and force. His _Daphne and Chloe_, and _Hero

and Leander_ are early performances, but they are full of promise, and

abound in excellences. Colour and feeling are their chief merit. The latter

print has the shadows too dark. The former is more transparent, more

tender, and in better keeping. The foreground has, in some parts, the

crispness and richness of Woollett. They tell me that it is a rare print,

and that only 250 copies were struck off--at the expense of the Society of

Arts. Laugier has recently executed a very elaborate print of Leander, just

in the act of reaching the shore--(where his mistress is trembling for his

arrival in a lighted watch-tower) but about to be buried in the

overwhelming waves. The composition of the figure is as replete with

affectation, as its position is unnatural, if not impossible. The waves

seem to be suspended over him--on purpose to shew off his limbs to every

degree of advantage. He is perfectly canopied by their "gracefully-curled

tops." The engraving itself is elaborate to excess: but too stiff, even to

a metallic effect. It can never be popular with us; and will, I fear, find

but few purchasers in the richly garnished repertoire of the worthy

Colnaghi. Indeed it is a painful, and almost repulsive, subject. Laugier's

portrait of _Le Vicomte de Chateaubriand_ exhibits his prevailing error of

giving blackness, rather than depth, to his shadows. Black hair, a black

cravat, and black collar to the coat--with the lower part of the background

almost "gloomy as night"--are not good accessories. This worthy engraver

lives at present with his wife, an agreeable and unaffected little woman,

up four pair of stairs, in the _Rue de Paradis_. I told him--and as I

thought with the true spirit of prediction--that, on a second visit to

Paris I should find him descended--full two stories: in proportion as he

was ascending in fortune and fame.

The French are either not fond of, or they do not much patronise, engraving

in the _stippling_ manner: "_au poinctilliet_"--as they term it. Roger is

their chief artist in this department. He is clever, undoubtedly; but his

shadows are too black, and the lighter parts of his subjects want

brilliancy. What he does "en petit," is better than what he does upon a

larger scale." In _mezzotint_ the Parisians have not a single artist

particularly deserving of commendation. They are perhaps as indifferent as

we are somewhat too extravagantly attached, to it. Speaking of the FRENCH

SCHOOL OF ENGRAVING, in a general and summary manner--especially of the

line engravers--one must admit that there is a great variety of talent;

combined with equal knowledge of drawing and of execution; but the general

effect is too frequently hard, glittering, and metallic. The draperies have

sometimes the severity of armour; and the accessories, of furniture or

other objects, are frequently too highly and elaborately finished. Nor is

the flesh always free from the appearance of marble. But the names I have

mentioned, although not entirely without some of these defects, have great

and more than counter-balancing excellences.

In the midst of all the graphic splendour of modern Paris, it was

delightful music to my ears to hear WILKIE and RAIMBACH so highly extolled

by M. Bénard. "Ha, votre _Wilkie_--voilà un génie distingué!" Who could say

"nay?" But let BURNET have his share of graphic praise; for the _Blind

Fiddler_ owes its popularity throughout Europe to _his_ burin. They have

recently copied our friend Wilkie's productions on a small scale, in

aqua-tint; cleverly enough--for three francs a piece. I told Benard that

the Duke of Wellington had recently bespoke a picture from Mr. Wilkie's

pencil. "What is the subject to be?"--demanded he, quickly. I replied, in

the very simplicity of my heart, "Soldiers regaling themselves, on

receiving the news of the victory of Waterloo." Mons. Bénard was paralised

for one little moment: but rallying quickly, he answered, with perfect

truth, as I conceive "_Comment donc_, TOUT EST WATERLOO, _chez vous!_" M.

Bénard spoke very naturally, and I will not find fault with him for such a

response; for he is an obliging, knowing, and a very pleasant tradesman to

do business with. He admits, readily and warmly, that we have great

artists, both as painters and engravers; and pointing to Sharpe's _John

Hunter_ and _The Doctors of the Church_--which happened to be hanging just

before us--he observed that "these, efforts had never been surpassed by his

own countrymen." I told him (while conversing about the respective merits

of the British and French Schools of Engraving) that it appeared to me,

that in France, there was no fine feeling for LANDSCAPE ENGRAVING; and

that, as to ANTIQUARIAN art, what had been produced in the publications of

Mr. Britton, and in the two fine topographical works--Mr. Clutterbuck's

Hertfordshire," and. Mr. Surtees' Durham--exhibited such specimens of the

burin, in that department, as could scarcely be hoped to be excelled.[197]

M. Bénard did not very strenuously combat these observations. The great

mart for _Printselling_ is the Boulevards; and more especially that of the

_Boulevards Italiens_. A stranger can have no conception of the gaiety and

brilliance of the print-shops, and print-stalls, in this neighbourhood. Let

him first visit it in the morning about nine o'clock; with the sun-beams

sparkling among the foliage of the trees, and the incessant movements of

the populace below, who are about commencing another day's pilgrimage of

human life. A pleasant air is stirring at this time; and the freshness

arising from the watering of the footpath--but more particularly the

fragrance from innumerable bouquets, with mignonette, rose trees, and

lilacs--extended in fair array--is altogether quite charming and singularly

characteristic. But my present business is with prints. You see them,

hanging in the open air--framed and not framed--for some quarter of a mile:

with the intermediate space filled by piles of calf-bound volumes and sets

of apparently countless folios. Here are _Moreri, Bayle_, the _Dictionnaire

de Trévoux, Charpentier_, and the interminable _Encyclopédie_: all very

tempting of their kind, and in price:--but all utterly unpurchasable--on

account of the heavy duties of importation, arising from their weight.

However--again I say--my present business is with _Prints_. Generally

speaking, these prints are pleasing in their manner of execution,

reasonable in price, and of endless variety. But the perpetual intrusion of

subjects of studied nudity is really at times quite disgusting. It is

surprising (as I think I before remarked to you) with what utter

indifference and apathy, even females, of respectable appearance and dress,

will be gazing upon these subjects; and now that the art of _lithography_

is become fashionable, the print-shops of Paris will be deluged with an

inundation of these odious representations, which threaten equally to

debase the art and to corrupt morals. This cheap and wholesale circulation

of what is mischievous, and of really most miserable execution, is much to

be deplored. Even in the better part of art, lithography will have a

pernicious effect. Not only a well-educated and distinguished engraver will

find, in the long run his business slackening from the reduced prices at

which prints. are sold, but a _bad taste_ will necessarily be the result:

for the generality of purchasers, not caring for comparative excellence in

art, will be well pleased to give _one_ franc, for what, before, they could

not obtain under _three_ or _five_. Hence we may date the decline and

downfall of art itself. I was surprised, the other day, at hearing DENON

talk so strongly in favour of lithography. I told him "it was a bastard

art; and I rejoiced, in common with every man of taste or feeling, that

_that_ art had not made its appearance before the publication of his work

upon Egypt." It may do well for

"The whisker'd pandour and the fierce hussar"--

or it may, in the hands of such a clever artist as VERNET, be managed with

good effect in representations of skirmishes of horse and foot--groups of

banditti--a ruined battlement, or mouldering tower--overhanging rocks--

rushing torrents--or umbrageous trees--but, in the higher department of

art, as connected with portrait and historical engraving, it cannot, I

apprehend, attain to any marked excellence.[198] Portraits however--of a

particular description--_may_ be treated with tolerable success; but when

you come to put lithographic engraving in opposition to that of _line_--the

_latter_ will always and necessarily be

... velut inter ignes

LUNA minores!

I cannot take leave of A CITY, in which I have tarried so long, and with so

much advantage to myself, without saying one word about the manners,

customs, and little peculiarities of character of those with whom I have

been recently associating. Yet the national character is pretty nearly the

same at Rouen and at Caen, as at Paris; except that you do not meet with

those insults from the _canaille_ which are but too frequent at these

first-mentioned places. Every body here is busy and active, yet very few.

have any thing _to do_--in the way of what an Englishman would call

_business_. The thoughtful brow, the abstracted, look, the hurried step..

which you see along Cheapside and Cornhill ... are here of comparatively

rare appearance. Yet every body is "sur le pavé." Every body seems to live

out of doors. How the _ménage_ goes on--and: how domestic education is

regulated--strikes the inexperienced eye of an Englishman as a thing quite

inconceivable. The temperature of Paris is no doubt very fine, although it

has been of late unprecedentedly hot; and a French workman, or labourer,

enjoys, out of doors--from morning till night those meals, which, with us,

are usually partaken of within. The public places of entertainment are

pretty sure to receive a prodigious proportion of the population of Paris

every evening. A mechanic, or artisan, will devote two thirds of his daily

gains to the participation of this pleasure. His dinner will consist of the

most meagre fare--at the lowest possible price--provided, in the evening,

he can hear _Talma_ declaim, _or Albert_ warble, or see _Pol_ leap, or

_Bigotini_ entrance a wondering audience by the grace of her movements, and

the pathos of her dumb shew, in _Nina._

A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany, Volume Two · 第 20 / 26 段