Part II.
Chap. I.
Mr. West arrives in England.--Relative Condition of Artists in Society.--Mr. West's American Friends in this Country.--Of Governor Hamilton and Mr. Allen,--- Circumstances favourable to their Reception in the Circles of Fashion.--Mr. West's Visit to Bath, and Excursions to see some of the Collections of Art in England.--He settles as a Portrait Painter.--Introduction to Burke and Dr. Johnson.--Anecdote of a Monk, the Brother of Mr. Burke.--Introduction to Archbishop Drummond.--- Mr West's Marriage.
Mr. West arrived in England on the 20th of August, 1763. The sentiments with which he approached the shores of this island, were those of a stranger visiting interesting scenes, mingled with something of the solicitude and affections of a traveller returning home. He had no intention of remaining in London: he was only desirous to see the country of his ancestors, and his mind, in consequence, was more disengaged from professional feelings than at any period from that in which his genius was first awakened. He considered his visit to England as devoted to social leisure, the best kind of repose after mental exertion; but the good fortune which had hitherto attended him in so remarkable a manner, still followed him, and frustrated the intentions with which he was at that time actuated.
Those who have at all attended to what was then the state of the arts in this country, and more particularly to the relative condition of artists in society, and who can compare them with the state of both at the present period, will not hesitate to regard the arrival of Mr. West as an important event. In the sequel of this work, it may be necessary to allude to the moral and political causes which affect the progress of the fine arts, and opportunities will, in consequence, arise to show how meanly they were considered, how justly, indeed, it may be said, they were rejected, not only by the British public in general, but even by the nobility. A few eminent literary characters were sensible of their importance, and lamented the neglect to which they were consigned; but the great body of the intelligent part of the nation neither felt their influence, nor were aware of their importance to the commerce and renown of the kingdom. Artists stood, if possible, lower in the scale of society than actors; for Garrick had redeemed the profession of the latter from the degradation to which it had been consigned from the time of the Commonwealth; but Reynolds, although in high repute as a portrait-painter, and affecting a gentlemanly liberality in the style of his living, was not so eminently before the public eye as to induce any change of the same consequence towards his profession.
Mr. West found, on his arrival in London, several American families who had come across the Atlantic after the peace to visit their relations, and he had the unexpected pleasure of hearing that Mr. William Allen, Governor Hamilton, and Dr. Smith, his earliest friends and patrons, were in this country.
Mr. Allen, like many others in the colonies at that time, was both a professional man and a merchant. He held indeed the dignified office of chief justice in Pennsylvania, and was a person of powerful and extensive connections in the mother-country. Hamilton, who had been many years governor, was chiefly indebted to him for the rank which he enjoyed, in consequence of having married his sister.
The naval and military officers who had occasion, during the war, to visit Philadelphia, found in the houses of the governor and Mr. Allen a cordial hospitality which they never forgot. Many of these officers were related to persons of distinction in London, and being anxious to testify to the Americans their grateful sense of the kindness which they had experienced, rendered the strangers objects of hospitable solicitude and marked respect in the first circles of the metropolis. Mr. West, accordingly, on his arrival, participated in the advantages of their favourable reception, and before he was known as an artist, frequented the parties of several of the highest characters in the state.
His first excursion from London was to Hampton Court to see the Cartoons of Raphael. Soon after, he visited Oxford, Blenheim, and Corsham; whence he proceeded to Bath, where Mr. Allen was at that time residing. Here he remained about a month; and in returning to town made a short tour, in the course of which he inspected the collections of art at Storehead, Fonthill, Wilton House, the Cathedral of Salisbury, and the Earl of Radnor's seat at Longford. At Reading he staid some time with his half-brother, Mr. Thomas West, the eldest son of his father. When he returned to London he was introduced by Mr. Patoune, his travelling companion from Rome, to Reynolds, and a friendship commenced between them which was only broken by death. He also, much about the same time, formed an acquaintance with Mr. Richard Wilson, the landscape painter, to whom indeed he had brought very warm letters of introduction, from some of that great artist's friends and admirers in Italy.
The first lodgings which Mr. West occupied, in his professional capacity, were in Bedford-Street, Covent-Garden, where, when it was understood that he intended to practise, he was visited by all the artists of eminence then in London, and welcomed among them with a cordiality that reflected great honour on the generosity of their dispositions. In this house the first picture which he painted in England was executed. The subject was Angelica and Medora, which, with the Cymon and Iphiginia, painted at Rome, and a portrait of General Moncton, (who acquired so much celebrity by his heroic conduct as second in command under General Wolfe at Quebec,) by the advice of Reynolds and Wilson, he sent to the exhibition in Spring Gardens in 1764.
While he was engaged on the picture of Angelica and Medora, Dr. Markham, then Master of Westminster-School, paid him a visit and invited him to a dinner, at which he introduced him to Dr. Johnson, Mr. Burke; Mr. Chracheroide, and Mr. Dyer. On being introduced to Burke he was so much surprised by the resemblance which that gentleman bore to the chief of the Benedictine monks at Parma, that when he spoke he could scarcely persuade himself he was not the same person. This resemblance was not accidental; the Protestant orator was, indeed, the brother of the monk.
It always appeared to Mr. West that there was about Mr. Burke a degree of mystery, connected with his early life, which their long intercourse, subsequent to the introduction at Dr. Markham's, never tended to explain. He never spoke of any companions of his boyhood, nor seemed to have any of those pleasing recollections of the heedless and harmless days of youth, which afford to most men of genius some of the finest lights and breaks of their fancy; and his writings corroborate the observation. For, although no prose writer ever wrote more like a poet than this celebrated man, his imagery is principally drawn from general nature or from art, and but rarely from any thing local or particular.
The conversation after dinner chiefly turned, on American subjects, in which Mr. Burke, as may well be supposed, took a distinguished part, and not more delighted the Artist with the rich variety and affluence of his mind, than surprised him by the correct circumstantiality of his descriptions; so much so, that he was never able to divest himself of an impression received on this occasion, that Mr. Burke had actually been in America, and visited the scenes, and been familiar with many of the places which he so minutely seemed to recollect. Upon a circumstance so singular, and so much at variance with all that has hitherto been said respecting the early history of this eminent person, it is needless to dilate. The wonder which it may excite I have no means of allaying; but I should not omit to mention here, when Mr. Burke was informed that Mr. West was a Quaker, that he observed, he had always regarded it among the most fortunate circumstances of his life, that his first preceptor was a member of the Society of Friends.
Dr. Markham in 1765 introduced Mr. West to Dr. Newton, Bishop of Bristol, Dr. Johnson, Bishop of Worcester, and Dr. Drummond, Archbishop of York. Dr. Newton engaged him to paint the Parting of Hector and Andromache, and afterwards sat to him for his portrait, in the back ground of which a sketch of this picture was introduced: and for the Bishop of Worcester he painted the Return of the Prodigal Son. The encouragement which he thus received from these eminent divines was highly creditable to their taste and liberality, and is in honourable contrast to the negligence with which all that concerned the fine arts were treated by the nobility and opulent gentry. It is, however, necessary to mention one illustrious exception. Lord Rockingham offered Mr. West a regular, permanent engagement of £700 per annum to paint historical subjects for his mansion in Yorkshire: but the Artist on consulting his friends found them unanimously of opinion, that although the prospect of encouragement which had opened to him ought to make him resolve to remain in England, he should not confine himself to the service of one patron, but trust to the public. The result of this conversation was a communication to Dr. Smith and Mr. Allen, of the attachment he had formed for the lady whom he afterwards married, and that it was his intention to return to America in order to be united to her. In consequence of this, an arrangement took place, by which the father of Mr. West came over to this country with the bride, and the marriage was solemnised on the 2d of September, 1765, in the church of St. Martin in the Fields.
Chap. II.
Some Notice of Archbishop Drummond.--Mr. West paints a Picture for His Grace.--His Grace's Plan to procure Engagements for Mr. West as an Historical Painter.--Project for ornamenting St. Paul's Cathedral with Pictures.--Anecdote of Dr. Terrick, Bishop of London.--The Altarpiece of St. Stephens, Walbrook.--State of public Taste with respect to the Arts.--Anecdotes of Hogarth and Garrick.
In Archbishop Drummond Mr. West found one of the most active and efficient patrons that he had yet met with. This eminent prelate was esteemed, by all who enjoyed the pleasure of his acquaintance, for a peculiar dignity of mind, and a liberality of sentiment that reflected lustre on his exalted rank. He had in his youth travelled on the Continent, and possessing an innate sensibility to the moral influence of the fine arts, had improved his natural taste by a careful inspection of every celebrated work to which he could obtain access. He lamented that in this great, flourishing, and triumphant nation, no just notion of the value of the fine arts was entertained; and on all occasions, when a suitable opportunity presented itself, he never failed to state this opinion, and to endeavour to impress it on others. He frequently invited Mr. West to his table; and the Artist remarked that he seemed to turn the conversation on the celebrity which the patronage of the arts had in all ages reflected on the most illustrious persons and families, addressing himself with particular emphasis to his sons. In the course of one of these conversations, he engaged Mr. West to paint for him the story of Agrippina landing with the ashes of Germanicus, and sent one of the young gentlemen to the library for the volume in which Tacitus describes the circumstances. Having read the passage, he commented on it at some length, in order to convey to Mr. West an idea of the manner in which he was desirous the subject should be treated.
The painter, on returning home, felt his imagination so much excited by the historian's description, and the remarks of the Archbishop, that he immediately began to compose a sketch for the picture, and finished it before going to bed. Next morning he carried it to His Grace, who, equally surprised and delighted to find his own conception so soon embodied in a visible form, requested the Artist to proceed without delay in the execution of the picture.
In the interim, the Archbishop endeavoured, by all the means in his power, to procure encouragement for Mr. West to devote himself exclusively to historical composition; and with this view he set on foot a scheme to raise three thousand guineas to constitute a fund, which would be a sufficient inducement for the Artist, in the first instance, to forego, at least for a time, the drudgery of portrait painting. But the attempt failed: so little was the public disposed to patronise historical subjects from the pencil of a living artist, that after fifteen hundred pounds were subscribed, it was agreed to relinquish the undertaking. As this fact is important to the history of the progress of the arts in this country, I present my readers with a copy of the subscription-paper, with the names and amount of the sums attached to them, by the respective subscribers,
In 1766 Mr. West made a proposal to his friend Bishop Newton, who was then Dean of St. Paul's, to present a gratuitous offering to the Cathedral, by painting a religious subject to fill one of the large spaces which the architect of the building had allotted for the reception of pictures; and speaking on the design one day after dinner at the Bishop's when Reynolds was present, he said that the giving of the Law on Mount Sinai would make an appropriate subject. Reynolds was delighted with the idea of decorating St. Paul's by the voluntary offerings of artists, and offered to paint a Nativity as his contribution. A formal proposal was in consequence made to the Dean and Chapter, who embraced it with much satisfaction. But Dr. Terrick, the Bishop, felt some degree of jealousy at the design being adopted, without consulting him, and set himself so decidedly against it that it was necessarily abandoned. Dr. Newtorn had, in his capacity of Dean, obtained (without reflecting that Terrick had a veto over all) the consent of the other curators of the Cathedral, namely, of the Lord Mayor, the Archbishop of Canterbury, and the King. "But," exclaimed Dr. Terrick, with the energy of an ancient martyr, "I have heard of the proposition, and as I am head of the Cathedral of the metropolis, I will not suffer the doors to be opened to introduce popery." It is to be hoped that the declaration proceeded from the fear implied, and not because Dr. Newton omitted to ask his consent before applying to the King and the Archbishop.
Mr. West was, however, too deeply impressed with the advantage which would accrue to the arts by inducing the guardians of the Church to allow the introduction of pictures, to be discouraged by the illiberality of the Bishop of London. He therefore made a proposal to paint an Altar-piece for the beautiful church of St. Stephen's, Walbrook, and it was accepted. In the same year his friend, Mr. Wilcox, gave him a commission to execute another sacred subject, which he presented to the Cathedral of Rochester, and it is placed over the communion-table. In these biographical sketches it cannot be expected that a history of all Mr. West's numerous works should be related. It is the history of the Artist, not of his works, that is here written; and, therefore, except where the incidents connected with them are illustrative of the state of public feeling towards the arts, it is unnecessary to be more particular. I have, however, prepared a complete catalogue of his designs, with such remarks concerning them as must satisfy any want that may be felt by this systematic omission in the narrative. I should, however, mention that, in this stage of his career, the two of his earliest pictures, which attracted the greatest share of public attention, were the Orestes and Pylades, and the Continence of Scipio. He had undertaken them on speculation, and the applause which they obtained, when finished, were an assurance of his success and reward. His house was daily thronged with the opulent and the curious to see them; statesmen sent for them to their offices; princes to their bedchambers, and all loudly expressed their approbation, but not one ever enquired the price; and his imagination, which had been elevated in Italy to emulate the conceptions of those celebrated men who have given a second existence to the great events of religion, history, and poetry, was allowed in England to languish over the unmeaning faces of portrait-customers. It seemed to be thought that the genius of the Artist could in no other way be encouraged, than by his friends sitting for their own likenesses, and paying liberally for them. The moral influence of the art was unfelt and unknown; nor can a more impressive instance of this historical truth be adduced, than the following anecdote of Hogarth, which Garrick himself related to Mr. West.
When that artist had published the plates of the Election, he wished to dispose of the paintings, and proposed to do so by a raffle of two hundred chances, at two guineas the stake; to be determined on an appointed day. Among a small number of subscribers, not half what Hogarth expected, Garrick had put down his name; and when the day arrived he went to the artist's house to throw for his chance. After waiting a considerable time no other person appeared, and Hogarth felt this neglect not only as derogatory to his profession, but implying that the subscription had something in it of a mendicant character. Vexed by such a mortifying result of a plan which he had sanguinely hoped would prove, at least, a morning's amusement to the fashionable subscribers, he insisted that, as they had not attended, nor even sent any request to him to throw for them, that Garrick should go through the formality of throwing the dice; but only for himself. The actor for some time opposed the irritated artist; but at last consented. Instead, however, of allowing Hogarth to send them home, he begged that they might be carefully packed up, until his servant should call for them; and on returning to his house, he dispatched a note to the painter, stating that he could not persuade himself to remove works so valuable and admired, without acquitting his conscience of an obligation due to the author and to his own good fortune in obtaining them. And knowing the humour of the person he addressed, and that if he had sent a cheque for the money it would in all probability be returned, he informed him that he had transferred two hundred guineas at his bankers, which would remain at the disposal of Hogarth or his heirs, whether it was or was not then accepted. The charge of habitual parsimony against Garrick was not well founded; and this incident shows that he knew when to be properly munificent. In the acquisition and management of his affluent fortune, it would have been more correct to have praised him for a judicious system of economy, than to have censured him for meanness. It ought to have been considered, that he was professionally required to deal with a class of persons not famed for prudence in pecuniary concerns, and to whom the methodical disbursements of most private gentlemen would probably have appeared penurious.
Chap. III.
Archbishop Drummond's Address in procuring for Mr. West the Patronage of the King.--Singular Court Anecdote of a Lady of Fashion.--Character of the King in his Youth.--Anecdotes of the King and Queen.--The King employs Mr. West to paint the Departure of Regulus.--Mr. West's Celebrity as a Skater,--Anecdote of Lord Howe.--His Fame as a Skater of great Service in his professional Success.
The coldness with which Archbishop Drummond's scheme for raising three thousand guineas had been received by the persons to whom he had applied, and the prejudice which he found almost universally entertained against the efforts of living genius, chagrined him exceedingly. He regarded the failure as a stigma on the age, and on his country; and, as a public man, he thought it affected himself personally. With this feeling, he declared to the gentlemen who had exerted themselves in the business, that he saw no way of engrafting a taste for the fine arts on the British public, unless the King could be so far engaged in the attempt, as to make it fashionable to employ living artists, according to the bent of their respective talents. But, about this period, the affair of Wilkes agitated the nation; and the Duke of Portland and Lord Rockingham, who were among the most strenuous of Mr. West's friends, being both of the Whig party, undervalued the importance attached to His Majesty's influence and countenance. The Archbishop was not, however, discouraged by their political prejudices; on the contrary, he thought that His Majesty was one of those characters who require to be personally interested in what it is desired they should undertake; and he resolved to make the attempt. The address with which His Grace managed the business, evinced great knowledge of human nature, and affords a pleasing view of the ingenuousness of the King's disposition.
When the picture of Agrippina was finished, the Archbishop invited the most distinguished artists and amateurs to give him their opinion of the work; and satisfied by the approbation which they all expressed, he went to court, and took an opportunity of speaking on the subject to the King, informing His Majesty, at the same time, of all the circumstances connected with the history of the composition; and on what principle he had always turned his conversations with Mr. West to excite an interest for the promotion of the arts in the minds of his family. The dexterity with which he recapitulated these details produced the desired effect. The curiosity of the King was roused, and he told the Archbishop that he would certainly send for the Artist and the picture.
This conversation probably lasted longer than the usual little reciprocities of the drawing-room; for it occasioned a very amusing instance of female officiousness. A lady of distinguished rank, having overheard what passed, could not resist the delightful temptation of being the first to communicate to Mr. West the intelligence of the honour that awaited him. On quitting the palace, instead of returning home, she went directly to his house, and, without disclosing her name, informed him of the whole particulars of the conversation which had passed between the Archbishop and the King. In the evening, Barnard, who had been an attendant on the King from the cradle, and who was not more attached to His Majesty, than he was himself in return affectionately beloved, came to Mr. West, and requested him to be in attendance next morning at the Queen's house, with the picture of Agrippina. In delivering the message, this faithful servant was prompted by his own feelings to give the Artist some idea of His Majesty's real character, which at that time was very much misrepresented to the public; and Mr. West during the long term of forty years of free and confidential intercourse with the King, found the account of Barnard to be in every essential and particular point correct.
The King was described to him as a young man of great simplicity and candour of disposition, sedate in his affections, and deeply impressed with the sanctity of principle; scrupulous in forming private friendships; but, when he had taken any attachment, not easily swayed from it, without being convinced of the necessity and propriety of so doing.
At the time appointed, Mr. West was in attendance with the picture; and His Majesty came into the room where he was waiting. After looking at it some time with much apparent satisfaction, he enquired if it was in a proper light; and, on being told that the situation was certainly not the most advantageous, he conducted the Artist through several apartments himself, till a more satisfactory place was found. He then called several of the domestics into the room, and, indeed, assisted them himself to remove the picture. When the servants had retired, and he had satisfied himself with looking at it, he went out of the apartment and brought in the Queen, to whom he introduced the Artist with so much warmth, that Mr. West felt it at the moment as something that might be described as friendliness.
The Queen, though at this period very young, possessed a natural graciousness of manner, which her good sense and the consciousness of her dignity rendered peculiarly pleasing; so that our Artist was not only highly gratified by the unexpected honour of this distinguished introduction, but delighted with the affability and sweetness of her disposition.
When Their Majesties had examined the picture, the King observed that he understood the same subject had seldom been properly treated. Mr. West answered, that it was, indeed, surprising it should have been neglected by Poussin, who was so well qualified to have done it justice, and to whose genius it was in so many respects so well adapted. His Majesty then told the Queen the history of the picture before them, dwelling with some expressions of admiration on the circumstance of the sketch having been made in the course of one evening after the artist had taken coffee with the Archbishop of York, and shown to His Grace the next morning. Turning briskly round to Mr. West, he said, "There is another noble Roman subject which corresponds to this one, and I believe it also has never been well painted; I mean the final departure of Regulus from Rome. Don't you think it would make a fine picture?" The Artist replied, that it was undoubtedly a magnificent subject. "Then," said His Majesty, "you shall paint it for me;" and, ringing the bell in the same moment, ordered the attendant who answered to bring the volume of Livy in which the event is related, observing to the Queen, in a sprightly manner, that the Archbishop had made one of his sons read to Mr. West; but "I will read to him myself the subject of my picture;" which, on the return of the servant with the book, he did accordingly. And the Artist was commanded to come with the sketch as soon as possible.
The Archbishop was highly delighted at the successful result of his scheme, and augured from the event the happiest influence to the progress of the arts; nor has his patriotic anticipations been unrewarded; for, without question, so great and so eminent a taste for the fine arts as that which has been diffused throughout the nation, during the reign of George the Third, was never before produced in the life-time of one monarch, in any age or country.
But in relating the different incidents which contributed to bring Mr. West into favourable notice, there is one of a peculiar nature, which should not be omitted. During winter, at Philadelphia, skating was one of the favourite amusements of the youth of that city, and many of them excelled in that elegant exercise. Mr. West, when a boy, had, along with his companions, acquired considerable facility in the art; and having become exceedingly fond of it, made himself, as he grew up to manhood, one of the most accomplished skaters in America. Some of the officers at that time quartered there, also practised the amusement; and, among others, Colonel Howe, who afterwards succeeded to the title of his elder brother, and who, under the name of General Howe, is so well known in the disastrous transactions of the subsequent civil war, which ended in establishing the independence of the United States. In the course of the winter preceding Mr. West's departure for Italy, they had become acquainted on the ice. In Italy Mr. West had no opportunity of skating; but when he reached Lombardy, where he saw so much beautiful frozen water, he regretted that he had not brought his skates with him from America. The winter, however, which succeeded his arrival in England, proved unusually severe; and one morning, when he happened to take a walk in St. James's park, he was surprised to see a great concourse of the populace assembled on the canal. He stopped to look at them, and seeing a person who lent skates on hire, he made choice of a pair, and went on the ice. A gentleman who had observed his movements, came up to him as he retired to unbuckle the skates, and said, "I perceive, Sir, you are a stranger, and do not perhaps know that there are much better places than this for the exercise of skating. The Serpentine River, in Hyde Park, is far superior, and the basin in Kensington Gardens still more preferable. Here, only the populace assemble; on the Serpentine, the company, although better, is also promiscuous; but the persons who frequent the basin in the Gardens are generally of the rank of gentlemen, and you will be less annoyed among them than at either of the other two places."
In consequence of this information, on the day following, Mr. West resolved to visit the Gardens; and, in going along Piccadilly with that intention, bought a pair of skates, which, on reaching the margin of the ice, he put on, After a few trial-movements on the skirts of the basin, like a musician tuning his violin before attempting a regular piece of composition, he dashed off into the middle of the company, and performed several rounds in the same style which he had often practised in America. While engaged in this manner, a gentleman called to him by name; and, on stopping, he found it was his old acquaintance Colonel Howe.
The Colonel immediately came up, and exclaimed, "Mr. West, I am truly glad to see you in this country, and at this time. I have not heard of you since we parted on the wharf at Philadelphia, when you sailed for Italy; but I have often since had occasion to recollect you. I am, therefore, particularly glad to see you here, and on the ice; for you must know that, in speaking of the American skaters, it has been alleged, that I have learnt to draw the long bow among them; but you are come in a lucky moment to vindicate my veracity."
He then called to him Lord Spencer Hamilton, and some of the Cavendishes, who were also on the ice, and introduced Mr. West to them as one of the American skaters, of whom they had heard him so often speak, and would not credit what he had said of their performance; and he requested Mr. West to show them what, in Philadelphia, was called the Salute. Mr. West had been so long out of practice, that he was at first diffident of attempting this difficult and graceful movement: but, after a few trials, and feeling confidence in himself, he at last performed it with complete success. Out of this trivial incident, an acquaintance arose between him and the young noblemen present. They spoke of his talents as a skater; and their praise, in all their usual haunts, had such an effect, that, in the course of a few days, prodigious crowds of the fashionable world, and of all descriptions of people, assembled to see the American skater. When it was afterwards known to the public that he was an artist, many of the spectators called at his rooms; and he, perhaps, received more encouragement as a portrait-painter on account of his accomplishment as a skater, than he could have hoped for by any ordinary means to obtain.
Chap. IV.
The King's personal Friendship for Mr. West.--Circumstances which led to the Establishment of the Royal Academy.--First Exhibition of the Works of British Artists.--The Departure of Regulus finished, and taken to Buckingham House.--Anecdote of Kirby.--The Formation of the Royal Academy.--Anecdote of Reynolds.--The Academy instituted.
The King, at the period when he was pleased to take Mr. West under his own particular patronage, possessed great conversational powers, and a considerable tincture of humour. He had read much, and his memory was singularly exact and tenacious: his education had, indeed, been conducted with great prudence, and, independent of a much larger stock of literary information than is commonly acquired by princes, he was fairly entitled to be regarded as an accomplished gentleman. For the fine arts he had not, perhaps, any natural taste; he had, however, been carefully instructed in the principles of architecture by Chambers, of delineation by Moser, and of perspective by Kirby; and he was fully aware of the lustre which the arts have, in all ages, reflected on the different countries in which the cultivation of them has been encouraged to perpetuate the memory of great events. His employment of Mr. West, although altogether in his private capacity, was therefore not wholly without a view to the public advantage, and it is the more deserving of applause, as it was rather the result of principle than of personal predilection.
When Mr. West had made a sketch for the Regulus, and submitted it to His Majesty, after some conversation, as to the dimensions, the King fixed on an advantageous part of the walls in one of the principal apartments, and directed that the picture should be painted of a size sufficient to fill the whole space. During the time that the work was going on, the Artist was frequently invited to spend the evening at Buckingham-house, where he was often detained by the King as late as eleven o'clock, on topics connected with the best means of promoting the study of the fine arts in the kingdom. It was in these conversations that the plan of the Royal Academy was digested; but it is necessary to state more particularly the different circumstances which co-operated at this period to the formation of that valuable institution.
At the annual exhibitions of the paintings and drawings, which obtained the premiums of the Society for the Encouragement of Arts, Agriculture, and Commerce, it was then customary with artists to send occasionally their works to be exhibited with those of the competitors, as a convenient method of making themselves known to the public. But the visitors hearing from the newspapers only of the pictures which had gained the prizes, concluded that they were the best in the exhibition; and the works of the matured artists were overlooked in the attention paid to the efforts of juvenile emulation. This neglect mortified the artists, and induced them to form themselves into an association for the exhibition of their own productions. The novelty of this plan attracted much attention, and answered the expectations of those with whom it originated. Such was the state of things with the artists when Mr. West came to England; and to the first exhibition, after his arrival, he sent, as I have already mentioned, three pictures. The approbation which these works obtained, induced the association to elect him one of the directors, and he held this situation till, the society beginning to grow rich by the receipts of the exhibitions, the management of its concerns became an object of ambition. This association was incorporated in 1765, under the designation of the Incorporated Artists.
Chambers and Payne, who were leading members in the Society, being both architects, were equally desirous that the funds should be laid out in the decoration of some edifice adapted to the objects of the institution. This occasioned so much debate, division, and rivalry, among their respective partisans, that Mr. West was induced to resign the office of director, and to withdraw along with Mr. Reynolds (afterwards Sir Joshua) and others, disgusted with the bickering animosities which disgraced the proceedings at their meetings. This transaction made some noise at the time, and it happened on the very day when Mr. West waited on the King, with his sketch of the Departure of Regulus, that the newspapers contained some account of the matter. His Majesty enquired the cause and particulars of the schism, and Mr. West, in stating what they were, mentioned that the principles of his religion made him regard such proceedings as exceedingly derogatory to the professors of the arts of peace.
This led the King to say that he would gladly patronise any association which might be formed more immediately calculated to improve the arts. Mr. West, after retiring from the palace, communicated this to Chambers and Moser, and, upon conferring on the subject with Mr. Coats, it was agreed that the four should constitute themselves a committee of the dissenting artists, to draw up the plan of an academy. When this was mentioned to His Majesty, he not only approved of their determination, but took a great personal interest in the scheme, and even drew up several of the laws himself with his own hand. Nor should one remarkable circumstance be omitted; he was particularly anxious that the whole design should be kept a profound secret, being apprehensive that it might be converted into some vehicle of political influence.
In the mean time the picture of the Departure of Regulus was going forward, and it was finished about the time that the code of rules for the academy was completed. The incorporated artists were also busy, and had elected as their president Mr. Kirby, who had been preceptor in perspective to the King, and who had deservedly gained great celebrity by his treatise on the principles of that branch of art. Kirby, having free access to the royal presence, and never hearing from His Majesty any thing respecting the academy, was so satisfied in his own mind that the rumours, respecting such an institution being intended, were untrue, that, in his inaugural address from the chair, he assured the incorporated artists there was not the slightest intention entertained of establishing a Royal Academy of Art.
When the Departure of Regulus was finished, the King appointed a time for Mr. West to bring the picture to Buckingham-house. The Artist having carried it there, His Majesty, after looking at it some time, went and brought in the Queen by the hand, and seated her in a chair, which Mr. West placed in the best situation for seeing the picture to advantage. While they were conversing on the subject, one of the pages announced Mr. Kirby; and the King consulted Her Majesty in German about the propriety of admitting him at that moment. Mr. West, by his residence among the German inhabitants of Lancaster in America, knew enough of the language to understand what they said, and the opinion of the Queen was that Kirby might certainly be admitted, but for His Majesty to take his own pleasure. The attendant was in consequence ordered to show him in, and Mr. West was the more pleased at this incident, as it afforded him an advantageous opportunity of becoming personally known to Kirby, with whom, on account of his excellent treatise, he had for some time been desirous to become acquainted.
When Kirby looked at the picture he expressed himself with great warmth in its praise, enquiring by whom it had been painted; upon which the King introduced Mr. West to him. It would perhaps be doing injustice to say that the surprise with which he appeared to be affected on finding it the production of so young a man, had in it any mixture of sinister feeling; but it nevertheless betrayed him into a fatal indiscretion. As a preceptor to the King, he had been accustomed to take liberties which ought to have terminated with the duties of that office; he, however, inadvertently said, "Your Majesty never mentioned any thing of this work to me." The tone in which this was uttered evidently displeased the King, but the discretion of the unfortunate man was gone, and he enquired in a still more disagreeable manner, "Who made this frame?" Mr. West, anxious to turn the conversation, mentioned the maker's name; but this only served to precipitate Mr. Kirby into still greater imprudence, and he answered somewhat sharply, "That person is not Your Majesty's workman;" and naming the King's carver and gilder said, "It ought to have been made by him." The King appeared a good deal surprised at all this, but replied in an easy good-humoured way, "Kirby, whenever you are able to paint me a picture like this, your friend shall make the frame." The unhappy man, however, could not be restrained, and he turned round to Mr. West, and in a tone which greatly lessened the compliment the words would otherwise have conveyed, said, "I hope you intend to exhibit this picture." The Artist answered, that as it was painted for His Majesty, the exhibition must depend on his pleasure; but that, before retiring, it was his intention to ask permission for that purpose. The King immediately said, "Assuredly I shall be very happy to let the work be shown to the public."--"Then, Mr. West," added Kirby, "you will send it to my exhibition," (meaning to the exhibition of the Incorporated Artists). "No," interposed the King, firmly, "it must go to my exhibition,--to the Royal Academy." Poor Kirby was thunderstruck; but only two nights before, in the confidence of his intercourse with the King, he had declared that even the design of forming such an institution was not contemplated. His colour forsook him, and his countenance became yellow with mortification. He bowed with profound humility, and instantly retired, nor did he long survive the shock.
On the day following, a meeting of the artists who had separated themselves from the incorporated association, was to be holden in the evening at the house of Wilton the sculptor, in order to receive the code of laws, and to nominate the office-bearers of the Academy. In the course of the morning, Mr. Penny, who was intended to be appointed professor of painting, called on Mr. West and mentioned that he had been with Reynolds, and that he thought, for some unfathomable reason or another, that distinguished artist would not attend the meeting. Soon after, Moser likewise called, and stated the same thing. Mr. West was much perplexed at this information; for it had been arranged with the King that Reynolds, although not in the secret, nor at all consulted in the formation of the Academy, should be the president. He therefore went immediately to his house, and finding him disengaged, mentioned, without alluding to what he had heard, the arrangements formed for instituting an academy, and that a meeting of thirty artists named by the King, of the forty members of which it was intended the Academy should consist, was that evening to take place at Wilton's. Reynolds was much surprised to hear matters were so far advanced, and explained to Mr. West that Kirby had assured him in the most decided manner, that there was no truth whatever in the rumour of any such design being in agitation, and that he thought it would be derogatory to attend a meeting, constituted, as Kirby represented it, by persons who had no sanction or authority for doing what they had undertaken. To this Mr. West answered, "As you have been told by Mr. Kirby that there is no intention to form any institution of the kind, and by me that there is, that even the rules are framed, and the officers condescended on, yourself to be president, I must insist on your going with me to the meeting, where you will be satisfied which of us deserves to be credited in this business."
In the evening, at the usual hour, Mr. West went to take tea with Reynolds, before going to the meeting, and it so fell out, either from design or accident, that it was not served till a full hour later than common, not indeed till the hour fixed for the artists to assemble at Wilton's, so that, by the time they arrived there, the meeting was on the point of breaking up, conceiving that as neither Reynolds nor West had come, something unexpected and extraordinary must have happened. But on their appearing, a burst of satisfaction manifested the anxiety that had been felt, and without any farther delay the company proceeded to carry into effect the wishes of the King. The code of laws was read, and the gentlemen recommended by the King to fill the different offices being declared the officers, the code of laws was accepted. Reynolds was declared president, Chambers treasurer, Newton secretary, Moser keeper, Penny professor of painting, Wale professor of perspective, and Dr. William Hunter professor of anatomy. A report of the proceedings was made to His Majesty next morning, who gave his sanction to the election, and the Academy was thus constituted. The academicians afterwards met and chose a council to assist the president, and visitors to superintend the schools in three branches of art, painting, sculpture, and architecture. Thus, on the 10th December, 1768, under the title of the Royal Academy of the Arts in London, that Institution, which has done more to excite a taste for the fine arts in this country, than any similar institution ever did in any other, was finally formed and established.
Chap. V.
The opening of the Royal Academy.--The Death of General Wolfe.--Anecdote of Sir Joshua Reynolds.--New Pictures ordered by the King.--Origin of the Series of Historical Pictures painted for Windsor Castle.--Design for a grand Chapel in Windsor Castle, to illustrate the History of revealed Religion.--His Majesty's Scruples on the Subject.--His confidential Consultation with several eminent Divines.--The Design undertaken.
When the Academy was opened, the approbation which the Regulus received at the exhibition gratified the King, and he resolved to give Mr. West still farther encouragement. Accordingly, he soon after sent for him, and mentioned that he wished him to paint another picture, and that the subject he had chosen was Hamilcar making his son Hannibal swear implacable enmity against the Romans. The painting being finished it was earned to Buckingham-house, and His Majesty, after looking at it with visible satisfaction, said, that he thought Mr. West could not do better than provide him with suitable subjects to fill the unoccupied pannels of the room in which the two pictures were then placed.
About this period, Mr. West had finished his Death of Wolfe, which excited a great sensation, both on account of its general merits as a work of art, and for representing the characters in the modern military costume. The King mentioned that he heard much of the picture, but he was informed that the dignity of the subject had been impaired by the latter circumstance; observing that it was thought very ridiculous to exhibit heroes in coats, breeches, and cock'd hats. The Artist replied, that he was quite aware of the objection, but that it was founded in prejudice, adding, with His Majesty's permission, he would relate an anecdote connected with that particular point.
"When it was understood that I intended to paint the characters as they had actually appeared in the scene, the Archbishop of York called on Reynolds and asked his opinion, the result of which was that they came together to my house. For His Grace was apprehensive that, by persevering in my intention, I might lose some portion of the reputation which he was pleased to think I had acquired by his picture of Agrippina, and Your Majesty's of Regulus; and he was anxious to avert the misfortune by his friendly interposition. He informed me of the object of their visit, and that Reynolds wished to dissuade me from running so great a risk. I could not but feel highly gratified by so much solicitude, and acknowledged myself ready to attend to whatever Reynolds had to say, and even to adopt his advice, if it appeared to me founded on any proper principles. Reynolds then began a very ingenious and elegant dissertation on the state of the public taste in this country, and the danger which every attempt at innovation necessarily incurred of repulse or ridicule; and he concluded with urging me earnestly to adopt the classic costume of antiquity, as much more becoming the inherent greatness of my subject than the modern garb of war. I listened to him with the utmost attention in my power to give, but could perceive no principle in what he had delivered; only a strain of persuasion to induce me to comply with an existing prejudice,--a prejudice which I thought could not be too soon removed. When he had finished his discourse, I begged him to hear what I had to state in reply, and I began by remarking that the event intended to be commemorated took place on the 13th of September, 1758, in a region of the world unknown to the Greeks and Romans, and at a period of time when no such nations, nor heroes in their costume, any longer existed. The subject I have to represent is the conquest of a great province of America by the British troops. It is a topic that history will proudly record, and the same truth that guides the pen of the historian should govern the pencil of the artist. I consider myself as undertaking to tell this great event to the eye of the world; but if, instead of the facts of the transaction, I represent classical fictions, how shall I be understood by posterity! The only reason for adopting the Greek and Roman dresses, is the picturesque forms of which their drapery is susceptible; but is this an advantage for which all the truth and propriety of the subject should be sacrificed? I want to mark the date, the place, and the parties engaged in the event; and if I am not able to dispose of the circumstances in a picturesque manner, no academical distribution of Greek or Roman costume will enable me to do justice to the subject. However, without insisting upon principles to which I intend to adhere, I feel myself so profoundly impressed with the friendship of this interference, that when the picture is finished, if you do not approve of it, I will consign it to the closet, whatever may be my own opinion of the execution. They soon after took their leave, and in due time I called on the Archbishop, and fixed a day with him to come with Reynolds to see the painting. They came accordingly, and the latter without speaking, after his first cursory glance, seated himself before the picture, and examined it with deep and minute attention for about half an hour. He then rose, and said to His Grace, Mr. West has conquered. He has treated his subject as it ought to be treated. I retract my objections against the introduction of any other circumstances into historical pictures than those which are requisite and appropriate; and I foresee that this picture will not only become one of the most popular, but occasion a revolution in the art."
On Mr. West pausing, the King said, "I wish that I had known all this before, for the objection has been the means of Lord Grosvenor getting the picture; but you shall make a copy for me." His Majesty then entered into some further conversation respecting subjects for paintings to adorn the apartment; and Mr. West suggested that the Death of Epaminondas would, as a classic subject, and with Grecian circumstances, make a suitable contrast with the Death of Wolfe. The King received this idea with avidity; and the conversation being pursued further on the same topic, the Artist also proposed the Death of the Chevalier Bayard for another picture, which would serve to illustrate the heroism and peculiarities of the middle ages. Two pannels were still unprovided; and Mr. West, with submission to His Majesty, begged that he might be allowed to take the incident of Cyrus liberating the Family of the King of Armenia for the one, and of Segestus, and his daughter, brought before Germanicus, for the other. The King was much pleased with the latter idea; a notion being entertained by some antiquaries that the Hanoverian family are the descendants of the daughter.
During the time that our Artist was engaged in these works, he was frequently at the palace with the King; and His Majesty always turned the conversation on the means of promoting the fine arts, and upon the principles which should govern artists in the cultivation of their genius. In one of these conversations, Mr. West happened to remark, that he had been much disgusted in Italy at seeing the base use to which the talents of the painters in that country had been too often employed; many of their noblest efforts being devoted to illustrate monkish legends, in which no one took any interest, while the great events in the history of their country were but seldom touched. This led to some further reflections; and the King, recollecting that Windsor-Castle had, in its present form, been erected by Edward the Third, said, that he thought the achievements of his splendid reign were well calculated for pictures, and would prove very suitable ornaments to the halls and chambers of that venerable edifice. To this incident, the arts are indebted for the series of pictures which bring the victories of Cressy and Poictiers, with the other triumphal incidents of that time, again, as it were, into form and being, with a veracity of historical fact and circumstance which render the masquerades by Vario even a greater disgrace to St. George's Hall than they are to the taste of the age in which they were painted.
In the execution of these different historical subjects, the King took a great personal interests, and one piece became the cause of another, until he actually acquired a feeling like enthusiasm for the arts. When he had resolved to adorn Windsor-Castle with the achievements and great events of the reign of Edward the Third, he began to think that the tolerant temper of the age was favourable to the introduction of pictures into the churches: at the same time, his scrupulous respect for what was understood to be the usage, if not the law, relative to the case, prevented him for some time from taking any decisive step. In the course of different conversations with Mr. West, on this subject, he formed the design of erecting a magnificent oratory, or private chapel, in the Horns' Court of Windsor-Castle, for the purpose of displaying a pictorial illustration of the history of revealed religion. But, before engaging in this superb project, he thought it necessary to consult some eminent members of the Church, who enjoyed his confidence, as to the propriety of the design. Accordingly, he desired Mr. West to draw up a list of subjects from the Bible, susceptible of pictorial representation, which Christians, of all denominations, might contemplate without offence to their tenets; and he invited Dr. Hurd, afterwards Bishop of Worcester, Dr. Douglas, Bishop of Salisbury, the Dean of Windsor, and several other dignitaries, along with the Artist, to consider the business. He explained to the meeting his scruples, declaring that he did not, in a matter of this kind, owing to his high station in the state, feel himself a free agent; that he was certainly desirous of seeing the churches adorned with the endeavours of art, and would deem it the greatest glory of his reign to be distinguished, above all others in the annals of the kingdom, for the progress and successful cultivation of the arts of peace. "But, when I reflect," said His Majesty, "how the ornaments of art in the churches were condemned at the Reformation, and still more recently in the unhappy times of Charles the First, I am anxious to govern my own wishes not only by what is right, but by what is prudent, in this matter. If it is conceived that I am tacitly bound, as Head of the Church of England, to prevent any such ornaments from being introduced into places of worship; or if it be considered as at all savouring in any degree of a popish practice, however decidedly I may myself think it innocent, I will proceed no farther in the business. But, if the church may be adorned with pictures, illustrative of great events in the history of religion, as the Bible itself often is with engravings, I will gladly proceed with the execution of this design." Little else passed at this interview; but he requested the churchmen to examine the matter thoroughly; and appointed a particular day for them to report to him the result of their investigation: presenting to them, at the same time, a paper, containing a list of thirty-five subjects which he had formed with the Artist, for the decorations of the intended chapel.
On the day appointed, Mr. West again met those eminent members of the hierarchy in the royal presence: when Dr. Hurd reported to His Majesty, that they had very seriously considered the important business which had been confided to them; that, having bestowed on it their gravest attention, they were unanimously of opinion, that the introduction of paintings into the chapel, which His Majesty intended to erect, would, in no respect whatever, violate the laws or usages of the Church of England; and that, having examined the list of subjects, which he proposed should constitute the decorations, there was not one of them, but, which properly treated, even a Quaker might contemplate with edification. This inadvertent observation attracted the King's attention; and he said, that the Quakers were a body of Christians for whom he entertained the very highest respect, and that he thought, but for the obligations of his birth, he should himself have been a Quaker; and he particularly enlarged on their peaceful demeanour and benevolence towards one another.
The result of this conference was, that Mr. West immediately received instructions to make designs from the list of subjects; and afterwards with the King himself, he assisted to form an architectural plan of the chapel, which it was proposed should be ninety feet in length by fifty in breadth. When some progress had been made in the paintings, Mr. Wyat, who had succeeded Sir William Chambers as the royal architect, received orders to carry this plan into execution; and the grand flight of steps in the great staircase, executed by that architect, was designed to lead immediately to a door which should open into the royal closet, in the new chapel of REVEALED RELIGION.
Chap. VI.
Singular Anecdote respecting the Author of the Letters of Junius.--Of Lachlan M'Lean.--Anecdote of the Duke of Grafton.--Of the Marquis of Lansdowne.--Of Sir Philip Francis; Critique on the Transfiguration of Raphael by Sir Philip Francis, and Objections to his opinion.
By the eminent station which Mr. West has so long held among the artists, and admirers of the fine arts, in this country, he became personally acquainted with almost every literary man of celebrity; and being for many years a general visitor at the literary club, immortalised as the haunt of Johnson, Burke, Garrick, Goldsmith, and Reynolds, he acquired, without particularly attending to the literature of the day, an extensive acquaintance with the principal topics which, from time to time, engaged the attention of men of letters. An incident, however, of a curious nature, has brought him to be a party, in some degree, with the singular question respecting the mysterious author of the celebrated letters of Junius. On the morning that the first of these famous invectives appeared, his friend Governor Hamilton happened to call, and enquiring the news, Mr. West informed him of that bold and daring epistle: ringing for his servant at the same time, he desired the newspaper to be brought in. Hamilton read it over with great attention, and when he had done, laid it on his knees, in a manner that particularly attracted the notice of the painter, who was standing at his easel. "This letter," said Hamilton, in a tone of vehement feeling, "is by that damned scoundrel M'Lean."--"What M'Lean?" enquired Mr. West.--"The surgeon of Otway's regiment: the fellow who attacked me so virulently in the Philadelphian newspaper, on account of the part I felt it my duty to take, against one of the officers, a captain, for a scandalous breach of the privileges of hospitality, in seducing the wife of a very respectable man. This letter is by him. I know these very words: I may well remember them," and he read over several phrases and sentences which M'Lean had employed against him. Mr. West then informed the Governor, that M'Lean was in this country, and that he was personally acquainted with him. "He came over," said Mr. West, "with Colonel Barry, by whom he was introduced to Lord Shelburn, (afterwards Marquis of Lansdowne,) and is at present private secretary to His Lordship."
Throughout the progress of the controversy with Junius, Hamilton remained firm in his opinion, that the author was no other than the same Lachlan M'Lean, but at the literary club the general opinion ascribed the letters for some time to Samuel Dyer. The sequel of this anecdote is curious. M'Lean, owing to a great impediment in his utterance, never made any figure in conversation; and passed with most people as a person of no particular attainments. But when Lord Shelburn came into office, he was appointed Under Secretary of State, and subsequently nominated to a Governorship in India: a rapidity of promotion to a man without family or parliamentary interest, that can only be explained by a profound conviction, on the part of his patron, of his superior talents, and perhaps, also, from a strong sense of some peculiar obligation. M'Lean sailed for India in the Aurora frigate, and was lost, in the wreck of that ship, on the coast of Africa. That the letters of Junius were not ascribed to him by any party is not surprising, for his literary talents were unknown to the public; but the general opinion of all men at the time was that they were the production of some person in connection with Lord Shelburn.
Upon this subject, I hold no particular opinion of my own; nor, indeed, should I have perhaps noticed the circumstance at all, but for a recent most ingenious publication which has ascribed these celebrated letters to the late Sir Philip Francis. One thing, however, merits attention in this curious controversy. In the Monthly Magazine for July, 1813, there is an interesting account of a conversation between Sir Richard Phillips and the Marquis of Lansdowne on this subject; in which His Lordship speaks of the obligation to secrecy imposed on himself in the question as having been removed by death; an incidental expression that at once intimated a knowledge of the author, and that he was dead at the time when this conversation took place. The importance of the matter, as an object of literary curiosity, will excuse the introduction, in an abbreviated form, of what passed at that interview, as well as of some minor circumstances connected with the question.
During the printing of Almon's edition of Junius, in which he endeavoured to show that the letters were written by a Mr. Walter Boyd, Sir Richard Phillips, the publisher of that work, sought opinions among the characters then surviving, whose names had been mixed with the writings of Junius; and he addressed himself particularly to the Duke of Grafton, the Marquis of Lansdowne, Mr. Horne Tooke, and Mr. Grattan. Through two friends of the Duke of Grafton he was informed, "that His Grace had endeavoured to live down the calumnies of Junius, and to forget the name of the author; and that, at the period of the publication, offers were made to him of legal evidence on which to convict the author of a libel; but that, as he had then treated the man with contempt, he should decline to disturb him after so great a lapse of time." From this communication it would seem, that the Duke believed that he knew the author, and also that he was still alive.
Sir Richard, on calling upon the Marquis of Lansdowne, to whom he was personally known, found him in his sick chamber, suffering under a general breaking up of the constitution, but in his usual flow of spirits, anecdote, and conversation. On mentioning Almon's new edition of Junius, and that the editor had fixed on Boyd as the author, the Marquis exclaimed, "I thought Almon had known better: I gave him credit for more discernment: the world will, however, not be deceived by him; for there is higher evidence than his opinion. Look at Boyd's other writings: he never did write like Junius; and never could write like Junius. Internal evidence destroys the hypothesis of Almon." Sir Richard then said, that many persons had ascribed these letters to His Lordship; and that the world at large conceived that, at least, he was not unacquainted with the author. The Marquis smiled, and said, "No, no: I am not equal to Junius: I could not be the author; but the grounds of secrecy are now so far removed by death, and changes of circumstances, that it is unnecessary the author of Junius should much longer be unknown. The world are curious about him; and I could make a very interesting publication on the subject. I knew Junius; and I knew all about the writing and production of those letters. But look at my own condition now: I don't think I can live another week: my legs, my strength, tell me so; but the doctors, who always flatter sick men, assure me I am in no immediate danger. They order me into the country, and I am going there. If I live over the summer, which, however, I do not expect, I promise you a very interesting pamphlet about Junius. I will put my name to it: I will set that question at rest for ever."
Sir Richard looked at the swollen limbs and other symptoms threatening the dissolution of this distinguished nobleman; and, convinced that he was, in truth, never likely to see him again, and that the secret of Junius might be lost with him, turned the conversation to the various persons who had, at different times, been named as the Junius; and, after mentioning five or six whose respective pretensions the Marquis treated as ridiculous, His Lordship said, "It is of no use to pursue the matter further at this time. I will, however, tell you this for your guide, Junius has never yet been publicly named. None of the parties ever guessed at as Junius were the true Junius. Nobody has ever suspected him. I knew him, and knew all about it; and I pledge myself, if these legs will permit me, to give you a pamphlet on the subject, as soon as I feel myself equal to the labour." Sir Richard soon after took his leave; and about a week after the Marquis expired.
From Horne Tooke no information could be obtained: whenever Junius was mentioned, he lost the balance of his mind, and indulged himself in so much vanity, conceit, and ingenuity, that it was almost useless to speak with him on the subject.
Mr. Grattan wrote a very candid denial of any knowledge of the matter, in a letter which was printed in the preface to Almon's edition.
Of the pretension afterwards set forward for Dr. Wilmot, I believe it was never entertained or supported by any good evidence: Dr. Francis, the father of Sir Philip, had been long before mentioned, but for what reason I have never been able to ascertain. The answer of Sir Philip himself on the subject is, however, curiously equivocal, at least it so strikes me; although it is generally considered as a decided denial. It is as follows: "The great civility of your letter induces me to answer it, which, with reference merely to its subject-matter, I should have declined. Whether you will assist in giving currency to a silly, malignant falsehood, is a question for your own discretion: to me it is a matter of perfect indifference." But notwithstanding all this, an amusingly mysterious circumstance has, I am informed, transpired since the death of Sir Philip. In a box, it is said, which he carefully deposited with his banker's, and which was not to be opened till after his death, a copy of the publication, "Junius identified," with a common copy of the letters of Junius, were found. I shall offer no comment on this occurrence, for even granting that it was true, it might have been but a playful trick--if Sir Philip Francis was, in any respect, a humorist. But I have already digressed too far from the immediate object of my work; and I cannot make a better amends to my readers than by inserting here a short paper, written by that eminent person, and addressed to Mr. West. It is a critique on the Transfiguration by Raphael, in which Sir Philip evinces considerable ingenuity, by attempting not only to explain a defect in the composition, felt by every man of taste, in the midst of the delight which, in other respects, it never fails to produce, but to show that, so far from being any defect, it is in fact a great beauty.
Transfiguration by Raphael.
The title of this picture is a misnomer. The picture itself tells you it is the Ascension. The Transfiguration is another incident, which happened long before the Ascension, and is recited in the ninth chapter of St. Luke:--"When the countenance of Jesus was changed, and he became ετεϑον and his clothing was white, and lightened." The robe of the ascending Christ is blue.
The painter brings different incidents together to constitute one plot. The picture consists of three separate groupes, combined and united in one scheme or action.
I. Jesus ascending perpendicularly into the air, clothed in blue raiment, and attended by two other figures.
II. Some of his disciples on the Mount, who see the ascent, and lie dazzled and confounded by the sight.
III. A number of persons at the bottom of the Mount, who appear to look intently on a young man possessed by a devil, and convulsed. None of them see the Ascension but the young man, or rather the devil, who was in him, does see it. On all similar occasions, those fallen angels know the Christ, and acknowledge him. The other figures are agitated with astonishment and terror, variously and distinctly expressed in every one of them, at sight of the effect which they see is made upon him by some object which they do not see.
This is the sublime imagination, by which the lower part of the picture is connected with the upper.
P. FRANCIS.
13th July, 1816.
But although it must be confessed that this comment is exceedingly ingenious, in so far as it explains the painter's design in representing the demoniac boy, as the connecting link between the action on the Mount, and the groupe at the foot of it; yet, upon an examination of the picture, it will be found that it does not exhibit the Ascension, but the Transfiguration; and I beg leave to refer to a letter, from my friend Mr. M'Gillivray, in the Appendix which seems to me as perfectly satisfactory on the subject as any thing of the kind I ever met with. Mr. West was of the same opinion as Mr. M'Gillivray; but in conversing with him on the subject, he did not enter into so distinct an explanation of his reasons for dissenting from the speculation of Sir Philip Francis. In criticism, however, whether the matter in question be works of art, or of literature, the best opinion is exactly that which is the most reasonable; and the point at issue here, is not one in which an artist's judgment can be allowed greater weight than that of any other man.
Chap. VII.
Observations on Mr. West's Intercourse with the King.--Anecdote of the American War.--Studies for the Historical Pictures at Windsor Castle.--Anecdote of the late Marquis of Buckingham.--Anecdote of Sir Joshua Reynolds; and of the Athenian Marbles.--Election of Mr. West to the Presidency of the Royal Academy.--His Speech to the Academicians on that occasion.
While Mr. West was engaged on the series of religious and historical works for the King, he had frequent opportunities of becoming acquainted with political incidents, that a man less intent on his art, and more ambitious of fortune, might have turned to great advantage. This was particularly the case during the American War, for His Majesty knowing the Artist's connections with that country, and acquaintance with some of the most distinguished of the rebels, often conversed with him on the subject; and on different occasions Mr. West was enabled to supply the King with more circumstantial information respecting some important events than was furnished by the official channels. I do not consider myself at liberty, nor this a fit place, to enter upon subjects so little in unison with the arts of peace, or the noiseless tenour of an artist's life; but, among other curious matters that may be thrown out for the investigation of the future historian, is an opinion which prevailed among some of the best informed in America, that when General Washington was appointed to the supreme command of the army, it was with the view and intention of effecting a reconciliation between the two countries. A communication to this purpose is said to have been made by that illustrious man, which communication was never answered, nor ever laid formally before the Privy Council, at least not until more than six weeks after it had been received, and then it was too late. America was lost; and millions spent, and thousands sacrificed afterwards in vain. Whether, indeed, the King ever did know the whole affair, may be doubted.
The mind of Mr. West, however, had no enjoyment in political cabals, in the petty enmities of partizans, or the factious intrigues of party leaders. He was by his art wholly enchanted, and saw in the prospect before him an adequate recompense in fame for all his exertions, his days of labour, and his nights of study. The historical pictures for Windsor Castle cost him many a patient hour of midnight research; for the means to assist his composition, especially in architecture, and the costume of the time, were then far from being so easy of access as they are at present. A long period of preference for classic literature, and the illustration of the Greek and Roman story, had withdrawn the public taste from the no less glorious events of our own annals. To mark, therefore, the epoch, and manners of the age of Poictiers and Cressy, of the Institution of the Garter, and the other heroic and magnificent incidents of the reign of Edward the Third, with that historical truth which the artist thought essential to historical painting, required the inspection of many an ancient volume, and much antiquarian research. In the composition for the Institution of the Garter, the late Marquis of Buckingham offered several suggestions, which were adopted; and on His Lordship mentioning to the King, that Mr. West was descended of the Delawarre family, the head of which bore a distinguished part in the great events of that time, His Majesty ordered Mr. West to insert his own portrait among the spectators represented in the gallery, and immediately over the shield bearing the arms of the Earl of Delawarre. Mr. West himself was not, at that period, acquainted with the descent of his pedigree; but it happened in a conversation one day with Lord Buckingham, that His Lordship enquired from what part of England his family had been originally, and upon Mr. West telling him, His Lordship said, that the land which his ancestors had formerly possessed was become his by purchase; and that the Wests of Long Crandon were sprung from the ancient Earls of Delawarre.
But, except the historical information required for his pictures, in which he was indefatigable, until master of all that could be obtained, Mr. West, following the early and wise advice of Dr. Smith of Philadelphia, wasted none of his time in other literary pursuits. Among his learned and ingenious cotemporaries, however, he acquired a general knowledge of the passing literature of the day, and in consequence, there are few authors of any celebrity, especially the cotemporaries of Johnson, of whom he does not possess interesting anecdotes, as well as an acquaintance with the merit which they were severally allowed to possess.
One day at Sir Joshua Reynolds, after dinner when Dr. Johnson, Goldsmith, and Burke were present, the conversation turned on the degree of excellence which sculpture attained among the Greeks. It was observed incidentally, that there was something in the opinion of the ancients, on this subject, quite inexplicable; for, in the time of Alexander the Great, although painting was allowed to have been progressive, sculpture was said to have declined, and yet the finest examples of the art, the Apollo and Venus, were considered as the works of that period. Different theories were sported on this occasion, to explain this seeming contradiction; none of them, however, were satisfactory. But, on the arrival of the Athenian marbles, which Lord Elgin brought to this country, Mr. West was convinced, at the first sight of them, of the justness of ancient criticism, and remembered the conversation alluded to.
Perhaps I may be allowed to mention here, without impropriety, that I was at Athens when the second cargo of these celebrated sculptures was dispatched; that I took some interest in getting the vessel away; and that I went with her myself to the island of Idra. Two circumstances occasioned this interference on my part;--an Italian artist, the agent of Lord Elgin, had quarrelled about the marbles with Monsieur Fauvelle, the French Consul, a man of research and taste, to whom every traveller that visited Athens, even during the revolutionary war, might have felt himself obliged. Fauvelle was, no doubt, ambitious to obtain these precious fragments for the Napoleon Museum at Paris; and, certainly, exerted all his influence to get the removal of them interdicted. On the eve of the departure of the vessel, he sent in a strong representation on the subject to the governor of the city, stating, what I believe was very true, that Lord Elgin had never any sufficient firman or authority for the dilapidations that he had committed on the temples. Luseri, the Italian alluded to, was alarmed, and called on me at the monastery of the Roman propaganda, where I then resided; and it was agreed between us, that if any detention was attempted, I should remonstrate with the governor, and represent to him that such an arrest of British property would be considered as an act of hostility. But our fears were happily removed. No notice was taken by the governor of Monsieur Fauvelle's remonstrance. In the evening I embarked on board the vessel at the Pireus, and next morning was safely landed on the island of Idra, where the vessel, after remaining a day or two, sailed for Malta.
But to return to the biographical narrative. On the death of Sir Joshua Reynolds, in 1791, Mr. West was unanimously elected President of the Royal Academy. The choice was not more a debt of gratitude on the part of the Institution, to one who had essentially contributed to its formation, than a testimony of respect deservedly merited by the conduct and genius of the Artist who, when the compass, number, and variety of his pictures are considered, was, at that period, decidedly the greatest historical painter then living, who had been born a British subject. This event, at once so honourable to his associates and himself, was confirmed by the sanction of His Majesty on the 24th of March, 1792; on which occasion, on taking the chair, Mr. West addressed the Academicians to the following effect:--
"GENTLEMEN,
"The free and unsolicited choice with which you have called me to fill this chair, vacated by the death of that great character, Sir JOSHUA REYNOLDS, is so marked an instance of your friendship and good opinion, that it demands the immediate acknowledgment of my thanks, which I beg you to accept.
"I feel more sensibly the dignity to which you have raised me, as I am placed in succession after so eminent a character, whose exalted professional abilities, and very excellent discourses delivered under this roof, have secured a lasting honor to this Institution and to the country; while his amiable dispositions, as a man, will make his loss to be long regretted by all who had the happiness to know him.
"HIS MAJESTY having been graciously pleased to approve and confirm the choice which you have made of me as your President, it becomes my duty, as far as my humble abilities will permit, to study and pursue whatever may be the true interest, the prosperity, and the glory of this ACADEMY. In the prosecution of this duty, I can make no doubt of success, when I reflect that all the departments and classes of this Institution are filled with men of established professional reputation, selected from professors of the three great branches of art, which constitute the objects of your studies and, when I see this union of abilities strengthened by many ingenious productions of other able artists, who, although they have not as yet the honour of belonging to this body, will, nevertheless, enable us to maintain the accustomed brilliancy of our Exhibitions, and, consequently, to secure to us the approbation of a liberal and judicious public.
"The Exhibitions are of the greatest importance to this Institution; and the Institution is become of great importance to the country. Here ingenious youth are instructed in the art of design; and the instruction acquired in this place, has spread itself through the various manufactures of this country, to which it has given a taste that is able to convert the most common and simple materials into rare and valuable articles of commerce. Those articles the British merchant sends forth into all the quarters of the world, where they stand preeminent over the productions of other nations.
"But important as this is, there is another consequence of a more exalted kind; I mean, the cultivating of those higher excellences in refined art, which have never failed to secure to nations and to the individuals who have nourished them, an immortality of fame, which no other circumstances have been equally able to perpetuate. For it is by those higher and more refined excellences of painting, sculpture, and architecture, that Grecian and Roman greatness are transmitted down to the age in which we live, as if it was still in existence. Many centuries have elapsed since Greeks and Romans have been overthrown and dissolved as a people; but other nations, by whom similar refinements were not cultivated, are erased from the face of the earth, without leaving any monument or vestige to give the demonstration that they were ever great.
"It may, therefore, be fairly assumed, that an ACADEMY, whose objects and effects are so enlightened and extensive as those which are prosecuted here, is highly worthy of the protection of a patriot-king, of a dignified nobility, and of a wise people.
"Another circumstance, permit me, gentlemen, to mention, because I can speak of it with peculiar satisfaction, as important to the best interests of this Institution, and with the fullest assurance of its truth, from the personal knowledge I have had of you all, and the intimacy in which I have stood with most of you; it is this, that I have ever found you steadily determined to support the regulations under which this ACADEMY has been governed, and brought to its present conspicuous situation, and by an attention to which, we shall always be sure to go on with the greatest prudence and advantage.
"It is a matter of no less satisfaction to me, when I say, that I have always observed your bosoms to glow with gratitude and loyal affection to our August Founder, Patron, and Benefactor. I am convinced, it is your wish to retain His friendship, and the friendship of every branch of His Illustrious Family. I know these to be your sentiments, and they are sentiments in which I participate with you. In every situation of my life it shall be my invariable study to demonstrate my duty to my sovereign, my love for this Institution, and my zeal for the cultivation of genius, and the growth of universal virtue."
Mr. West having thus been raised to the head of an institution, embracing within itself the most distinguished artists at that time in the world, it might be proper to pause here to review the merits of the works and exertions by which he acquired this eminent honour, had he not, since that time, attained still more distinction in his profession. I shall, however, for the present, suspend the consideration of his progress, as an artist, to trace his efforts, in the situation of President of the Royal Academy, to promote the improvement of the pupils, by those occasional discourses, which, in imitation of the excellent example of Sir Joshua Reynolds, he deemed it an essential part of his duty to deliver.
Chap. VIII.
The first Discourse of Mr. West to the Students of the Academy.--Progress of the Arts.--Of the Advantages of Schools of Art.--On the Natural Origin of the Arts.--Of the Patronage which honoured the Patrons and the Artists.--Professional Advice.--Promising State of the Arts in Britain.
Mr. West's first discourse to the students of the Royal Academy was delivered on the 10th of December, 1792, on the occasion of the distribution of the prizes. Without ostensibly differing in his views from Sir Joshua Reynolds, who by his lectures acquired, as an author, a degree of celebrity equal to his fame as an artist, the new President confined himself more strictly to professional topics. He recalled to the remembrance of his auditors the circumstances in which the Academy originated, and reminded them of the encouragement which the efforts of artists had received from the countenance which the King had given to the arts. "Let those," said he, "who have traced the progress of the fine arts, say among what people did the arts rise, from such a state as that in which they were in this country about forty years ago, to the height which they have attained here in so short a period. In ancient Greece, from the retreat of Xerxes, when they were in their infancy, to the age of Alexander the Great, when they reached their maturity, we find a period of no less than one hundred and fifty years elapsed. In Rome we can make no calculation directly applicable; for among the Romans the habit of employing Greek artists, and the rage of collecting, suffered no distinct traces to be left of the progress of the arts among them. Even in architecture, to which their claims were most obviously decided, we see not sufficiently the gradations of their own peculiar taste and genius. But in modern Italy, leaving out of view the age of Cimabue, and even that of Giotto, and dating from the institution of the Academy of St. Luke at Florence, it required a hundred and fifty years to produce a Michael Angelo, a Raphael, and a Bramante."
Mr. West, after a few general observations on the necessary union between moral conduct and good taste, adverts to the alleged influence which such institutions as the Royal Academy have in producing mannerism in the students, than which nothing can be more obnoxious to the progress of refined art. "But," said he, "while I am urging the advantage of freedom and nature in study to genius, let me not be misunderstood. There is no untruth in the idea that great wits are allied to great eccentricity. Genius is apt to run wild if not brought under some regulation. It is a flood whose current will be dangerous if it is not kept within proper banks. But it is one thing to regulate its impetuosity, and another very different to direct its natural courses. In every branch of art there are certain laws by which genius may be chastened; but the corrections gained by attention to these laws amputate nothing that is legitimate, pure, and elegant. Leaving these graces untouched, the schools of art have dominion enough in curbing what is wild, irregular, and absurd.
"A college of art founded in this part of the world cannot be expected, like a college of literature, to lay before its young members all that may be necessary to complete their knowledge and taste. What is to be had from books may be obtained almost every where; but the books of instruction by which the artist alone can be perfected, are those great works which still remain immoveable in that part of the world, where the fine arts in modern times have been carried to their highest degree of perfection. I trust a period will come, when this Academy will be able to send the young artist, not from one spot or one seminary to another, but to gather improvement from every celebrated work of art wherever situated. But the progress and all future success of the artist must depend upon himself. He must be in love with his art or he will never excel in it.
"That the arts of design were among the first suggestions vouchsafed by Heaven to mankind, is not a proposition at which any man needs to start. This truth is indeed manifested by every little child, whose first essay is to make for itself the resemblance of some object to which it has been accustomed in the nursery.
"In the arts of design were conveyed the original means of communicating ideas, which the discoverers of countries show us to have been seized upon, as it were involuntarily, by all the first stages of society. Although the people were rude in knowledge and in manners, yet they were possessed of the means by which they could draw figures of things, and they could make those figures speak their purposes to others as well as to themselves. The Mexicans conversed in that way when Cortes came among them; and the savages of North America still employ the same means of communicating intelligence.
"When, therefore, you have taken up the arts of design as your profession, you have embraced that which has not only been sanctioned by the cultivation of the earliest antiquity, but to which their is no antiquity prior, except that of the visible creation.
"Religion itself in the earlier days of the world, would probably have failed in its progress without the arts of design, for religion was then emblematic; and what could an emblematic theology do without the aid of the fine arts, and especially the art of sculpture? Religion and the arts, in fact, sprung up together, were introduced by the same people, and went hand in hand, first through the continent of Asia, then through Egypt, next through Greece and her colonies, and in process of time through every part of Italy, and even to the north of Europe. In the pagodas of India, in some caverns of Media, and among various ruins in Persia, are still to be seen the early monuments of emblematic art, and wrought in all the possible difficulties of skill.
"When in the space of two thousand years, after the erection of some of those monuments, the fine arts came to be established in Greece in a better spirit as to taste, a higher estimation could not be annexed to any circumstance in society, than was given to the arts by the wise and elegant inhabitants of that country. They regarded them as their public records, as the means of perpetuating all public fame, all private honour, and all valuable instruction. The professors of them were considered as public characters who watched over the events that were passing, and who had in their hands the power of embodying them for ever. And is not this still the case with the artists of every country, how varied soever may be its maxims, or its system of action, from those of Greece? Is the artist indeed not that watchman who observes the great incidents of his time, and rescues them from oblivion?
"When he turns from these views to contemplate the patronage which has been given to the fine arts, will he have less reason to esteem his profession,--a profession so richly cherished by all the greatest characters of the earth? and which in return has immortalised its patrons. Posterity has never ceased to venerate the names of the Cosmos and Lorenzos who sought art, and fostered to their full maturity the various talents of their countrymen. The palace of the Medici, still existing in Florence, exhibits not only in its treasures the proofs of their munificence, but also within its walls those apartments and offices for artists, in every branch which those great men considered requisite to the decoration of their residence. And history has immortalised the solicitude with which the vast fortune of the family, acquired originally in honourable commerce, and rising gloriously to sovereign power, was made contributory to the nourishing of the arts and literature; of every thing that was intellectual, liberal, and great."
Mr. West then continued to enumerate the honour which the successive illustrious patrons of the fine arts have acquired, deducing from it motives of emulation to the young students to strive for similar distinction, that their names may be mingled with those illustrious races and families to whom Heaven is pleased to give superior eminence and influence in human affairs. In doing this he took occasion to animadvert on the base adulation of the artists of France in the age of Louis XIV.; or rather of the dishonour which the patronage of that monarch has drawn upon himself, by the unworthy manner in which he required the artists to gratify his personal vanity. He then proceeded to give some professional advice. "I wish," said he, "to leave this impression on the minds of all who hear me, that the great alphabet of our art is the human figure. By a competent knowledge of that figure the painter will be enabled to give a more just character and motion to that which he intends to delineate. When that motion is actuated by passion, and combined with other figures, groups are formed. These groups make words, and these words make sentences; by which the painter's tablet speaks a universal language;" and he concluded with saying, "Gentlemen, It is a great treasure and a great trust which is put into our hands. The fine arts were late before they crossed the British Channel, but now we may fairly pronounce that they have made their special abode with us. There is nothing in this climate unpropitious to their growth; and if the idea has been conceived in the world, enough has been done by the artists of Great Britain to disprove it. I know that I am speaking to the first professional characters in Europe in every branch of elegant art, as well as those who are most distinguished in taste and judgment. If there be diffused through this country a spirit of encouragement equal to the abilities which are ripe to meet it, I may venture to predict that the sun of our arts will have a long and glorious career."
Chap. IX.
Discourse to the Royal Academy in 1794.--Observations on the Advantage of drawing the Human Figure correctly.--On the Propriety of cultivating the Eye, in order to enlarge the Variety of our Pleasures derived from Objects of Sight.--On characteristic Distinctions in Art.--Illustrations drawn from the Apollo Belvidere, and from the Venus de Medici; comprehending critical Remarks on those Statues.
The prizes in the Royal Academy being distributed every second year, on the 10th of December, 1794, Mr. West delivered another Discourse, in which he took a more scientific view of the principles of the fine arts, than in the desultory observations which constituted the substance of his first lecture. As it contained much valuable information, mixed up with remarks incidental to the occasion, I have taken the liberty of abstracting the professional instruction from the less important matter, in order to give what deserves to be preserved and generally known in a concise and an unbroken form.
"It may be assumed," said Mr. West, "as an unquestionable principle, that the artist who has made himself master of the drawing of the human figure, in its moral and physical expression, will succeed not only in portrait-painting, but in the delineation of animals, and even of still life, much better than if he had directed his attention to inferior objects. For the human figure in that point of consideration, in which it becomes a model to art, is more beautiful than any other in nature; and is distinguished, above every other, by the variety of the phenomena which it exhibits, arising from the different modifications of feeling and passion. In my opinion, it would, therefore, be of incalculable advantage to the public, if the drawing of the human figure were taught as an elementary essential in education. It would do more than any other species of oral or written instruction, to implant among the youth of the noble and opulent classes that correctness of taste which is so ornamental to their rank in society; while it would guide the artizan in the improvement of his productions in such a manner, as greatly to enrich the stock of manufactures, and to increase the articles of commerce; and, as the sight is perhaps the most delightful of all our senses, this education of the eye would multiply the sources of enjoyment.
"The value of the cultivated ear is well understood; and the time bestowed on the acquisition of the universal language of music, is abundantly repaid by the gratification which it affords, although not employed in the communication of knowledge, but merely as a source of agreeable sensation. Were the same attention paid to the improvement of the eye, which is given to that of the ear, should we not be rewarded with as great an increase of the blameless pleasures of life,--from the power of discriminating hues and forms,--as we derive from the knowledge of musical proportions and sounds? The cultivation of the sense of sight would have such an effect in improving even the faculty of executing those productions of mechanical labour which constitute so large a portion of the riches of a commercial and refined people, that it ought to be regarded among the mere operative classes of society as a primary object in the education of their apprentices. Indeed, it may be confidently asserted, that an artizan, accustomed to an accurate discrimination of outline, will, more readily than another not educated with equal care in that particular, perceive the fitness or defects of every species of mechanical contrivance; and, in consequence, be enabled to suggest expedients which would tend to enlarge the field of invention. We can form no idea to ourselves how many of the imperfections in the most ingenious of our machines and engines would have been obviated, had the inventors been accustomed to draw with accuracy.
"But, to the student of the fine arts, this important branch of education will yield but few of the advantages which it is calculated to afford, unless his studies are directed by a philosophical spirit, and the observation of physical expression rendered conducive to some moral purpose. Without the guidance of such a spirit, painting and sculpture are but ornamental manufactures; and the works of Raphael and Michael Angelo, considered without reference to the manifestations which they exhibit of moral influence, possess no merit beyond the productions of the ordinary paper-hanger.
"The first operation of this philosophical spirit will lead the student to contemplate the general form of the figure as an object of beauty; and thence instruct him to analyse the use and form of every separate part; the relation and mutual aid of the parts to each other; and the necessary effect of the whole in unison.
"By an investigation of this kind, he will arrive at what constitutes character in art; and, in pursuing his analysis, he will discover that the general construction of the human figure in the male indicates strength and activity; and that the form of the individual man, in proportion to the power of being active, is more or less perfect. In the male, the degree of beauty depends on the degree of activity with which all the parts of the body are capable of performing their respective and mutual functions; but the characteristics of perfection of form in the female are very different; delicacy of frame and modesty of demeanour, with less capability to be active, constitute the peculiar graces of woman.
"When the student has settled in his own mind the general and primary characteristics, in either sex, of the human figure, the next step will enable him to reduce the particular character of his subject into its proper class, whether it rank under the sublime or the beautiful, the heroic or the graceful, the masculine or the feminine, or in any of its other softer or more spirited distinctions. For the course of his studies will have made him acquainted with the moral operations of character, as they are expressed upon the external form; and the habit of discrimination, thus acquired, will have taught him the action or attitude by which all moral movements of character are usually accompanied. By this knowledge of the general figure, this habitual aptitude to perceive the beauty and fitness of its parts, and of the correspondence between the emotions of the mind and the actions of the body, he will find himself in possession of all that Zeuxis sought for in the graces of the different beautiful women whom he collected together, that he might be enabled to paint a proper picture of Helen; and it is the happy result of this knowledge which we see in the Apollo Belvidere and the Venus de Medici, that renders them so valuable as objects of study.
"But the student must be always careful to distinguish between objects of study and objects of imitation; for the works which will best improve his taste and exalt his imagination, are precisely those which he should least endeavour to imitate; because, in proportion to their appropriate excellences, their beauties are limited in their application.
"The Apollo is represented by the mythologists as a perfect man, in the vigour of life; tall, handsome and animated; his locks rising and floating on the wind; accomplished in mind and body; skilled in the benevolent art of alleviating pain; music his delight, and poetry and song his continual recreation. His activity was shown in dancing, running, and the manly exercises of the quoit, the sling, and the bow. He was swift in his pursuits, and terrible in his anger.--Such was the Pythian Apollo; and were a sculptor to think of forming the statue of such a character, would he not determine that his body, strong and vigorous from constant exercise, should be nobly erect; that, as his lungs were expanded by habits of swiftness in the chase, his chest should be large and full; that his thighs, as the source of movement in his legs, should have the appearance of enlarged vigour and solidity; and that his legs, in a similar manner, should also possess uncommon strength to induce and propagate the action of the feet? The nostrils ought to be elevated, because the quick respirations of running and dancing would naturally produce that effect; and, for the same reason, the mouth should appear to be habitually a little open. While his arms, firm and nervous by the exercise of the quoit, the sling, and the bow, should participate in the general vigour and agility of the other members;--and would not this be the Apollo Belvidere?
"Were the young artist, in like manner, to propose to himself a subject in which he would endeavour to represent the peculiar excellences of woman, would he not say, that these excellences consist in a virtuous mind, a modest mien, a tranquil deportment, and a gracefulness in motion? And, in embodying the combined beauty of these qualities, would he not bestow on the figure a general, smooth, and round fulness of form, to indicate the softness of character; bend the head gently forward, in the common attitude of modesty; and awaken our ideas of the slow and graceful movements peculiar to the sex, by limbs free from that masculine and sinewy expression which is the consequence of active exercise?--and such is the Venus de Medici. It would be utterly impossible to place a person so formed in the attitude of the Apollo, without destroying all those amiable and gentle associations of the mind which are inspired by contemplating 'the statue which enchants the world.'
"Art affords no finer specimens of the successful application of the principles which I have laid down than in those two noble productions."
Chap. X.
Discourse to the Academy in 1797.--On the Principles of Painting and Sculpture.--Of Embellishments in Architecture.--Of the Taste of the Ancients.--Errors of the Moderns.--Of the good Taste of the Greeks in Appropriations of Character to their Statues.--On Drawing.--Of Light and Shade.--Principles of Colouring in Painting.--Illustration.--Of the Warm and Cold Colours.--Of Copying fine Pictures.--Of Composition.--On the Benefits to be derived from Sketching;--and of the Advantage of being familiar with the Characteristics of Objects in Nature.
In the discourse which Mr. West delivered from the chair of the Academy in 1797, he resumed the subject which he had but slightly opened, in that of which the foregoing chapter contains the substance. I shall therefore endeavour in the same manner, and as correctly as I can, to present a view of the mode in which he treated his argument, and as nearly as possible in his own language.
"As the foundation of those philosophical principles," said Mr. West, "on which the whole power of art must rest, I wish to direct the attention of the student, especially in painting and sculpture, to an early study of the human figure, with reference to proportion, expression, and character.
"When I speak of painting and sculpture, it is not my intention to pass over architecture, as if it were less dependent on philosophical principles, although what I have chiefly to observe with respect to it relates to embellishment;--a branch of art which artists are too apt to regard as not under the control of any principle, but subject only to their own taste and fancy. If the young architect commences his career with this erroneous notion, he will be undone, if there is any just notions of his art in the country.
"It is, therefore, necessary, as he derives his models from the ancients, that he should enquire into the origin of those embellishments with which the architects of antiquity decorated their various edifices. In the prosecution of his enquiries, he will find that the ornaments of temples and mausolea, may be traced back to the periods of emblematic art, and become convinced that the spoils of victims, and instruments of sacrifice, were appropriate ornaments of the temple; while urns, containing the ashes of the dead, and the tears of the surviving friends, were the invariable decorations of the mausoleum. The good taste of the classic ancients prevented them from ever intermixing the respective emblems of different buildings, or rather, in their minds custom preserved them from falling into such an incongruous error, as to place the ornaments belonging to the depositaries of the dead on triumphal arches, palaces, and public offices. They considered in the ornaments the character and purpose of the edifice; and they would have been ashamed to have thought it possible that their palaces might be mistaken for mausolea, or their tombs for the mansions of festivity.
"Is the country in which we live free from the absurdities which confound these necessary distinctions? Have we never beheld on the porticoes of palaces, public halls, or places of amusement, the skins of animals devoted to the rites of the pagan religion, or vases consecrated to the ashes of the dead, or the tears of the living? Violations of sense and character, in this respect, are daily committed. We might, with as much propriety, adorn the friezes of our palaces and theatres with the skulls and cross thigh-bones of the human figure, which are the emblems of death in every country throughout modern Europe!
"I do not here allude to any particular work, nor do I speak of this want of principle as general. It is indeed impossible that I can be supposed to mean the latter; for we have among us men distinguished in the profession of architecture, who would do honour to the most refined periods of antiquity. But all are not equally chaste; and in addressing myself to the young, it is my duty to guard them against those deviations from good taste, which, without such a caution, they might conceive to be sanctioned by some degree of example. It is my wish to preserve them from the innovations of caprice and fashion, to which the public is always prone; and to assure the youth of genius, that while he continues to found the merit of his works on true principles, he will always find, notwithstanding the apparent generality of any fashion, that there is no surer way, either to fame or fortune, than by acting in art, as well as life, on those principles which have received the sanction of experience, and the approbation of the wise of all ages.
"I shall now return to the consideration of painting and sculpture.
"The Greeks, above all others, afford us the best and most decided proofs of the beauty arising from the philosophical consideration of the subject intended to be represented. To all their deities a fixed and appropriate character was given, from which it would have perhaps been profanity to depart. This character was the result of a careful consideration of the ideal beauty suitable to the respective attributes of the different deities. Thus in their Jupiter, Neptune, Hercules, Vulcan, Mars, and Pluto; the Apollo, Mercury, Hymen, and Cupid, and also in the goddesses Juno, Minerva, Venus, Hebe, the Nymphs and Graces; appeared a vast discrimination of character, at the same time as true an individuality as if the different forms had been the works of Nature herself.
"In your progress through that mechanical part of your professional education, which is directed to the acquisition of a perfect knowledge of the human figure, I recommend to you a scrupulous exactness in imitating what is immediately before you, in order that you may acquire the habit of observing with precision every object that presents itself to your sight. Accustom yourselves to draw all the deviations of the figure, till you are as much acquainted with them as with the alphabet of your own language, and can make them with as much facility as your letters; for they are indeed the letters and alphabet of your profession, whether it be painting or sculpture.
"These divisions consist of the head, with its features taken in three points of view, front, back, and profile; the neck in like manner, also the thorax, abdomen, and pelvis; thigh, knee, leg, ankle, the carpus, metacarpus, and toes; the clavicula, arm, fore-arm, wrist, carpus, metacarpus, and fingers. While you are employed on these, it would be highly proper to have before you the osteology of the part on which you are engaged, as in that consists the foundation of your pursuit. And, in this period of your studies, I recommend that your drawings be geometrical, as when you draw and study a column with its base and capital. At the same time you should not neglect to gain a few points in perspective, particularly so far as to give effect to the square and cylinder, in order to know what constitutes the vanishing point, and point of distance, in the subject you are going to draw.
"After you have perfected yourselves in the parts of the figure, begin to draw the Greek figures entire, with the same attention to correctness as when you drew the divisions in your earlier lessons. Attend to the perspective according to the vanishing point opposite to your eye. You will naturally seek to possess your mind with the special character of the figure before you;--and of all the Grecian figures, I would advise you to make from the Apollo and Venus a general measurement or standard for man and woman, taking the head and its features, as the part by which you measure the divisions of those figures.
"Light and shade must not be neglected; for what you effect in drawing by the contour of the figure, light and shade must effect with the projections of those parts which front you in the figure. Light and shade there produce what becomes outline to another drawing of the same object in a right angle to the place where you sit.
"It seems not impossible to reduce to the simplicity of rule or principle, what may have appeared difficult in this branch of art to young students, and may have been too often pursued at random by others. All forms in nature, both animate and inanimate, partake of the round form more than of any other shape; and when lighted, whether by the sun or flame, or by apertures admitting light, must have two relative extremes of light and shadow, two balancing tints, the illuminated and the reflected, divided by a middle tint or the aerial. The effect of illumination by flame or aperture, differs from that of the sun in this respect; the sun illuminates with parallel rays, which fall over all parts of the enlightened side of the subject, while the light of a flame or an aperture only strikes directly on the nearest point of the object, producing an effect which more or less resembles the illumination of the sun in proportion to the distance and dimensions of the object.
"Let us then suppose a ball to be the object on which the light falls, in a direction of forty-five degrees or the diagonal of a square, and at a right angle from the ball to the place where you stand. One half of the ball will appear illuminated, and the other dark. This state of the two hemispheres constitutes the two masses of light and shadow. In the centre of the mass of light falls the focus of the illumination in the ball; between the centre of the illumination and the circle of the ball, where the illumination, reaches its extremity, lies what may be called the transparent tint; and between it and the dark side of the ball lies the serial or middle tint. The point of darkness, the extreme of shade, is diametrically opposite to the focus of illumination, between which and the aerial tint lies the tint of reflection. If the ball rests on a plain, it will throw a shadow equal in length to one diameter and a quarter of the ball. That shadow will be darker than the shade on the ball, and the darkest part will be where the plain and ball come in contact with each other.
"This simple experiment, whether performed in the open sun-shine, or with artificial illumination, will lead you to the true principles of light and shade over all objects in nature, whether mountains, clouds, rocks, trees, single figures, or groups of figures. It would therefore be of great use, when you are going to give light and shade to any object, first to make the experiment of the ball, and in giving that light and shade, follow the lessons with which it will furnish you.
"You will find that this experiment will instruct you, not only in the principles of light and shade, but also of colours; for that there is a corresponding hue with respect to colours is not to be disputed. In order to demonstrate this, place in the ball which you have illuminated, the prismatic colours, suiting their hues to those of the tints. Yellow will answer to the focus of illumination, and the other secondary and primary hues will fall into their proper places. Hence, on the enlightened side of a group or figure, you may lay yellow, orange, red, and then violet, but never on the side where the light recedes. On that side must come the other prismatic colours in their natural order. Yellow must pass to green, the green to blue, and the blue to purple. The primary colours of yellow, orange, and red, are the warm colours, and belong to the illuminated side of objects; the violet is the intermediate, and green, blue, and purple are the cold colours, and belong to the retiring parts of your composition.
"On the same principle, and in the same order, must be placed the tints which compose the fleshy bodies of men and women, but so blended with each other, as to give the softness appropriate to the luminous quality and texture of flesh; paying attention, at the same time, to reflections on its surface from other objects, and to its participation of their colours. The latter is a distinct circumstance arising from accident.
"When the sun illuminates a human body, in the same manner as the ball, the focus of the illumination in that body will partake of the yellow; and the luminous or transparent tint, will have the orange and the red. These produce, what is called, the carnation. The pure red, occasioned by the blood, lies in the lips, cheeks, joints, and extremities of the figure, and no where else. On the receding side of the focus is the local colour of the flesh, and on the receding side of that is the greenish tint; in the shade will fall the cold or bluish, and in the reflection will fall the tint of purple. The most perfect tint of ground, from which to relieve this arrangement of colours, is either blue, grey, or purple, for those colours partake of the complexion of the watery sky in which the rainbow appears, or the ground which best exhibits the prismatic colours.
"In acquiring a practical knowledge of the happiest manner of distributing your colours according to nature, it will assist you, if you will copy with attention some pieces of Titian, Correggio, Reubens, and Vandyke; the masters in whose works you will most eminently find the system pursued, which I have endeavoured to illustrate by the simple image of the ball.
"Having passed from the antique school, to that in which you draw after the living figure, still adhere to that scrupulous exactness of drawing with which you first set out; marking with precision the divisions of the figure. After you have made yourselves acquainted with the drawing of the living figure, you must then begin to enlarge your lines, and to give softness and breadth, to direct your attention to what constitutes style and character, and to discriminate these from what constitutes manner.
"To assist you in this nice discrimination, consult the prints and works of Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Hannibal Carracci. In them you will find the strongest and purest evidence of style and character, yet all differing from each other, and all equally brought out of nature. I do not recommend them with a view that you should adopt the style and character of any of them; but to show from those great examples, that style and character, although ever founded in nature, are as various as the individual genius of every artist; that they are as free to you as they were to those masters; that if you will consult your own mind, you will draw forth a style and character of your own, and therefore no man can ever be excused for sinking into a mannerist.
"And I cannot omit to observe here, that in the order of your studies, your mental powers should be cherished and brought into action by reading and reflection, but not until you have acquired practical facility in your art. Too often it happens, and I have seen it with concern, that the presumption of youth, or the errors of instruction, have reversed this order, and have carried many to attempt essays of research and learning, before they were well grounded in the principles of professional practice. What other consequences can follow from such a course, but that the student will turn in discontent from his own productions, because they fall short of the ideas in his mind; and induce him, perhaps, to abandon, with disgust, a profession in which he might have shone with distinction, had he taken a right method of cultivating his own powers!
"The great masters were all at an early age great in the mechanical department of their art, before they established any name by their philosophical style and character. Michael Angelo, when a mere youth, modelled and drew in a manner which astonished his own master. Raphael, at not more than nineteen years of age, rivalled his instructor, Pietro Perugino, in his executive talent; and, owing to this, he was enabled, at the age of only twenty-five, to send forth his two great works, the Dispute on the Sacrament, and the School of Athens. Guido, Bernini, and many others of the first class, pursued the same course of study, and were in the full possession of their powers very young. Vandyke, before he was twenty years old, assisted Reubens in his greatest works; and on a certain occasion, when the pupils of Reubens were amusing themselves in the absence of their master, one of them happened to fall against 'the Mother,' in the Descent from the Cross, which Vandyke repaired in a manner so admirable, that when the painter came next to the picture, he expressed himself surprised at the excellence of his own work, and said, that he thought he had not done that arm so well. In a word, wherever we find the executive power high at an early age, whether in painting or sculpture, we have an assurance of future excellence, which nothing but indolence can prevent. And, to give that early facility correctness of execution, remember and pursue the great maxim of Apelles:--
"'Nulla dies, sine linea.'
"The young artist may, indeed, draw lines every day and every hour with advantage, whether it be to amuse himself in society or in the fields. He should accustom himself to sketch every thing, especially what is rare and singular in nature. Let nothing of the animate creation on the earth, or in the air, or in the water, pass you unnoticed; especially those which are distinguished for their picturesque beauty, or remarkable for dignity of form or elegance of colour. Fix them distinctly in your sketch-book and in your memory. Observe, with the same contemplative eye, the landscape, the appearance of trees, figures dispersed around, and their aerial distance, as well as lineal forms. In this class of observations, omit not to observe the light and shade, in consequence of the sun's rays being intercepted by clouds or other accidents. Besides this, let your mind be familiar with the characteristics of the ocean; mark its calm dignity when undisturbed by the winds, and all its various states between that and its terrible sublimity when agitated by the tempest. Sketch with attention its foaming and winding coasts with distant land, and that awful line which separates it from the Heavens. Replenished with these stores, your imagination will then come forth as a river, collected from little springs, spreads into might and majesty. The hand will then readily execute what it has been so practised in acquiring; while the mind will embrace its subjects with confidence, by being so well accustomed to observe their picturesque effect."
Chap. XI.
Discourse.--Introduction.--On the Philosophy of Character in Art.--Of Phidias.--Of Apelles.--Of the Progress of the Arts among the Moderns.--Of Leonardo da Vinci.--Of Michael Angelo, Raphael, and Bartolomeo.--Of Titian.--Of the Effects of Patronage.
It is not my intention to give all the discourses which Mr. West addressed to the students of the Academy, but only those which contain, what may be called, illustrations of the principles of his art. The following, however, is so interesting and so various in its matter, that it would be improper in me to make any attempt to garble or abridge it, beyond omitting the mere incidental notice of temporary circumstances.
"The discourse which I am about to deliver, according to usual custom on the return of this day, must be considered as addressed more immediately to those among the students, who have made so much progress in art, as to be masters of the human figure, of perspective, and of those other parts of study, which I have heretofore recommended as the elements of painting and sculpture; and who are therefore about to enter on the higher paths of professional excellence. It will consequently be my object, now, to show how that excellence is to be attained; and this will best be done, as I conceive, by showing how it has been attained by others, in whom that excellence has been most distinguished in the ancient and modern world. By pursuing the principles on which they moved, you have the best encouragement in their illustrious example, while, by neglecting those principles, you can have no more reason to hope for such success as they met with, than you can think of reaching a distant land, without road or compass to direct your steps.
"The ground which I shall propose for your attention is this--to investigate those philosophical principles on which all truth of character is founded, and by which that sublime attainment, the highest refinement in art, and without which every thing else is merely mechanical, may be brought to a decided point, in all the variety by which it is distinguished through the animated world.
"On this ground, and on this alone, rose Phidias and Apelles to the celebrity which they held among the Greeks; and among the Italians, Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, Raphael, Titian, Correggio, and some others, who became the completest models in sculpture and painting. Their predecessors, indeed, in both countries, had for a considerable time been preparing the way, but not having equally studied the best means, or those means not having been equally before them, it was reserved of course for the great characters I have mentioned, to unite philosophical with professional truth, and to exhibit to the world in their works the standards of style. From the same source arose another consequence, ever worthy and pleasing to be mentioned;--the exhibition of those perfections was always accompanied by that ardent patronage, which not only cheered their minds, and invigorated their powers, but has left a glory on their country, which no subsequent events have been able to obliterate, and which never will be obliterated in any country where the sublimity of art, involving the most refined embellishments of civilized life, is cherished by those who are in a capacity to cherish it.
"In a very early period of the arts in Greece, we meet with a circumstance which shows the advantages derived from consulting with philosophy, if it does not also show the origin and outset of those advantages. The circumstance to which I allude is, that in the period when the sculptors contented themselves with the stationary forms and appearance of figures, in imitation of their predecessors, the Egyptians; at that time they began to submit their works to the judgment of philosophers, one of whom, being called in to survey a statue, which a sculptor, then eminent, was going to expose to public view, remarked, that the human figure before him wanted motion, or that expression of intellect and will, from which motion and character too must arise; for man had a soul and mind, which put him at the head of the animal creation, and, therefore, without that soul and mind, the form of man was degraded.
"This observation touched the point, then, necessary to be obviated, in order to overcome the primitive rudeness which still attached to sculpture; and without the application of the principle contained in the observation, sculpture and painting too might have stood still for ages. And from what other source than the principles of philosophic study, or, in other words, from reflection on the moral powers or passions of man, their several effects, as produced in their workings on the human figure, could that improvement be obtained? It was the constant employment of the philosophic mind, to study those causes and effects, and to reduce them to a more distinct display for the truth and utility of their own writings. The philosophers were, therefore, the most likely to assist the artist in those displays of character which tended to illustrate the truth of his own works. Nor on this account is it any disparagement to the artists of those days, when philosophic studies were confined to particular classes of men, that this moral view of art was not sufficiently taken up by the more mechanical part of the profession.
"Thus, however, the opening was made to the important expression of character. And the lesson suggested by the philosopher alluded to, is not confined to the Greeks alone. I wish, young gentlemen, to leave it in all its force upon your minds. For if the figures you design, whether singly or in groups, have not their actions correspondent to what their minds appear to be pursuing, they will suit any other subject as well as that in which they are placed. This remark is the more worthy of attention, as it does not apply to any of the figures of the Grecian masters whom I have mentioned. The figure by Phidias on Monte Cavallo at Rome, the Apollo, the Laocoon, the Venus, the Hercules, and the fighting gladiator, are all perfect on the just principles I have mentioned. There is no room for amendment; their propriety is unquestionable; their truth eternal. And so in the works of modern art, we see the same truth and perfection in the Capella Sestina by Michael Angelo, in the Supper by Leonardo da Vinci at Milan, in the Cartoons by Raphael, the St. Peter Martyr by Titian, and the Note by Correggio.
"Having mentioned the figure on Monte Cavallo, representing, as you all know, a young man curbing a horse, I cannot help stopping to remark, that if any work of sculpture ever demonstrated more strongly the value of uniting philosophic science with that of art, for the production of character, it is that work by Phidias. Never did the power of art express more evidently than is done in the head of the young man, that every feature is moved by an internal mental power, and corresponds in the most perfect truth with what we see to be the labouring passion. When we view it in front we are astonished that the mouth does not speak. No observer ever thinks that the head is a block of stone. But the whole group is masterly on the most refined principles of science. It was intended to be seen at an elevated point, as well as at a distant one. All its forms, therefore, are grand without the minutiae of parts; its effects are striking and momentary; and in every circumstance considered, it is plainly the work of consummate genius and science united.
"Was it possible that in an age which gave a Phidias to the Greeks, there should not have been a Pericles to reward, by his patronage, merit so exalted?
"We may carry the same reflections into the progress of the pencil. As the Greeks became refined in their minds, they gained an Apelles to paint, and an Alexander to patronise. We are not enabled now to speak of the works of that great master. His figure of Alexander, in the character of young Ammon, is described as his master-piece. Such was the expression with which the hand grasped the thunder-bolt, that it seemed actually to start from the pannel. The expression and force of character given to the whole, was equally marvellous. And when we consider the refinement to which the human mind had then arrived among the Greeks, the immense value which they put upon the works of that artist, and that they were too wise to devote their applause to things which fell short of consummate excellence, we cannot doubt but it was by the cultivation of the public mind that the arts reached such attainments among them. What must have been their exquisite state when the simple line drawn by Protogenes,--in the consciousness of his acknowledged perfection, and which was intended to announce the man who drew it, as much as if he had told his name,--was so far excelled by another simple line over it by Apelles, that the former at once confessed himself outdone? Those two lines, simple as they were, were by no means trifling in their instruction. They gave us, as it were, an epitome of the progress which the arts had long been making in Greece. For if the drawing of a simple line, of such a master as Protogenes, who was conceived by many to hold the first pencil in the world, was surpassed, to his great surprise, by another, how high must refinement have been raised by the exertions of the artists in a period so emulous of perfection!
"The stages in the progress of modern art, have been frequently distinguished by ages similar to those which succeed one another in the human growth. We may safely assert, that in the infantine and youthful period of modern art, literature and science were only seen in their infancy and growth. The opening of nature displayed in the works of Massaccio; the graces exhibited in those of Lorenzo Ghiberti; and the advancement in perspective made by one or two others, kept pace nearly with that progress in philosophy which appeared in the best writings of those days. As the one took a larger step in the next stage or period, the other stepped forth in a like degree at the same time; so that in Leonardo da Vinci we see the great painter and the great philosopher: his painting most clearly refined in its principles, and enlarged in its powers by his philosophical studies. As a philosopher, and especially in those parts of knowledge which were most interesting to his profession, he laid that foundation of science which has ever since been adopted and admired. As a painter, he not only went far beyond his predecessors, but laid down those principles of science in the expression of individual character, and of a soul and figure specifically and completely appropriated to each other, which opened the way to the greatness acquired by those who followed him in his studies. In that point of excellence, Leonardo da Vinci was original; and it was the natural result of a mind like his, formed to philosophical investigation, and deeply attentive to all the variety of appearances by which the passions are marked in the human countenance and frame. These he traced to their sources: he found them in their radical principles, and by his knowledge of these principles, his expression of character became perfected.
"The nature exhibited by Massaccio had not gone to that extent of expression. It however spoke a soul: he drew forth an inward mind on the outward countenance: he gave a character; but that character was not so discriminated as to become the index of one particular passion more than another; or to decide, for instance, the head of Jupiter from that of a Minerva: so at with the aid, of different types, it should not befit a Saviour or a Magdalene.
"We must take along with us in this review, that the splendid patronage of the house of Medici came forward, to meet, and to cherish the happy advancements made by the masters of those days; so that Florence, which was then the greatest seat of the arts, was no less brilliant and illustrious in the generosity which strove to perpetuate them, than in the genius by which they had been cultivated.
"Leonardo da Vinci, by the principles which he so effectually realised, has always been considered as having established the manly as well as the graceful age of modern art. But manhood is never so fixed as to be incapable of progress. The manhood then attained in art was capable of farther advancement beyond the growth which the powers of Da Vinci had given it. This was eminently illustrated by the sublimity of style which was attained by the genius of Michael Angelo and of Raphael;--quality equally original in both, although issuing from different principles. In the former, it was founded on that force and grandeur, allied to poetic spirit, which rises above all that is common, and leaves behind it all that is tame and simply correct; which, not content with engaging the senses, seizes on the imagination, while it never departs from truth. In the latter, it was made up of the beautiful and graceful, which attracts by the assemblage of whatever is most perfect and elevated in the character or subject.
"Raphael coming somewhat later than Michael Angelo on the theatre of art, had the advantage of many of that master's works, as well as of all the improvements which had been made before. His life was a short one, and the first studies of it were almost lost in the dry school of Pietro Perugino. But he soon found his way to the philosophy of Leonardo da Vinci, and to the profound principles on which his admirable expression of character is founded. The dignity of drapery, and of light and shade, opened by Bartolomeo, invited his studies; and the sublimity of the human figure in the sculptures of his cotemporary, Michael Angelo, fastened on his contemplation. Thus he entered at once, as it were, into the inheritance of whatever excellencies had been produced before him. With these advantages he was called to adorn the apartments of the Vatican. And can we wonder that his first works there, at the age of seven-and-twenty, were the Dispute on the Sacrament, and the School of Athens?
"But what was it that contributed very much to the production of those works? It was not the profound studies of Raphael's mind, but the spirit of the age which warmed those studies.--It was a great age, in which learning and science were become diffused, at least throughout Europe:--a great age replete with characters studious of philosophy; and, therefore, fond of the instruction conveyed by the arts;--fond of those high and more profound compositions which entered into the spirit of superior character, and made some study and research necessary to develope their beauties. To meet the taste of such an age, the two first public works of Raphael, above mentioned, were well suited, inasmuch as they were intended to convey the comparative views of theology and human science, or, in other words, the improvement of the human mind arising from the two great sources of national wisdom and revealed light. It must not also be forgotten, that while the spirit of the age was warming his mind to the peculiar dignity of theme and style which marks his works, the generous and noble patronage of the papal court was exerting its utmost power to immortalise him, and every other great master that arose within the circle of its influence. Their merit and their fame found as animated a protector in Leo X. as Phidias experienced in Pericles, or Apelles in Alexander the Great.
"As the Florentine and Roman schools were thus gradually refined in the excellence of design and character, by the aid of philosophical studies; so the Venetian masters were equally indebted to the like studies, without which, they would never have reached their admirable system of colouring. If any have conceived otherwise, they have taken a very superficial view of their system. Where is there greater science concerned than in the whole theory of colours? It employed the investigation of Newton; and shall that pass for a common or easy attainment which took up so much of his profound studies? The Venetian masters had been long working their way to the radical principles of this science, not only for a just and perfect arrangement of their colouring, but for that clear and transparent system in the use of it, which have equally marked that school in the days of its maturity under Titian. He it was who established, on unerring principles, founded on nature and truth, that accomplished system which John Bellini had first laboured to discover, and in which Giorgioni had made further advancements. Besides his zeal in his profession, Titian was born in that higher rank of life which might be supposed to give him an easier access to the elegant studies of philosophic science; and he had prosecuted, with great ardour, the science of chemisty, the better to understand the properties of colour, their homogeneous blendings, purity, and duration; as well as the properties of oils, gums, and other fluids, which might form the fittest vehicles to convey his colours upon canvass.
"The elegant Charles V. was to Titian in liberal pratronage what Leo X. was to Raphael. That munificent prince carried him into Spain, where his works laid the foundation of the Spanish school in painting, and gave a relish for that art to all the succeeding monarchs.
"What has been remarked respecting Titian and the Venetian school, is equally true of that of Correggio among the Lombard painters. The mind of Correggio appears evidently, by his works, to have been profoundly enlightened; and especially in the philosophical arrangement and general doctrine of colours. What has been said by some concerning the low circumstances of his fortune, (which is not true,) neither proves the obscurity of his birth, nor that philosophical researches were out of his reach, or beside his emulation. The truth is, that he was born of a very honourable family, and was accomplished in the elegancies of life; not that it is necessary for any man to have the advantages of birth, in order to become enlightened by science in any way whatever. The patronage which attended him was of the most elevated kind, being dispensed by the illustrious houses of Mantua and Modena, as well as by the institution of the Doma of Parma. But what is by no means less worthy of our notice is, that of all the masters who have risen up in any of the schools of Italy, not one has been the means of giving success and reputation to those who have followed any of their respective styles equally with Correggio. The ineffable softness, sweetness, and grace in his paintings, have never varied in their effects with the course of time. And they who have since partaken of these powers in his style, have very generally become great masters, (distinguished by none of the excesses which have sometimes attended the imitation of other models,) and successful in gainng the approbation and favour of the world.
"The paths pursued by those great examples must become yours, young gentlemen, or you can neither be eminent in colouring, nor sure in the execution of your art. It is possible, that by habits of practice, handed over from one to another, or by little managements in laying colours on the canvass, where little or nothing of the general science has been studied and attained, many may so far succeed as to avoid glaring errors, and a violation of those first principles which have their foundation in nature. But that success is at all times extremely hazardous and dependent on chance. More frequently it has introduced invincible conflicts between the primary and secondary colours, to the ruin of harmony and aerial perspective, and to the overthrow of the artist, whenever the picture is glanced upon by the eye of scientific discernment. Contemptible are the best of such managements, ever in the hands of those that know them best, compared with a full and masterly possession of the philosophy by which this part of your art must be guided. If the ordonnance of colour, on each figure and on the whole, is not disposed according to the immutable laws of the science, no fine effect, or accordant tones of colours, can possibly be produced. There is, therefore, but one way to make sure of success, and to raise your characters in this point, and that is by making yourselves masters of the whole philosophy of colours, as Titian and Correggio did, and some others, in whose works, from first to last, the minutest scrutiny will never find a colour misplaced or prejudiced by its disposition with others.
"To be perfect, is the emulation which belongs to those arts in which you are engaged, and the anxious hope of the country in which you live. To animate you to that perfection, is the object of what I have now addressed to you. I am persuaded it is your ambition to be perfect. This Academy looks with pleasure on the progress of your studies, as it may look with pride on the high and cultivated state to which the arts have been raised among us ever since they have had the establishment of a regular school. It is no flattery to the present æra in Britain to say, that in no age of the world have the arts been carried in any country to such a summit as they now hold among us, in so short a period as half a century at most. Among the Greeks some centuries had elapsed, amidst no little emulation in the arts, before they obtained an Apelles. In modern Italy, without going as far back as we might, it took up a century from the appearance of Massaccio to the perfection of a Raphael. If, then, the British school has risen so much more speedily to that celebrity in art, which it is too well known and established to need any illustration here, what should hinder her professors from becoming the most distinguished rivals of the fame acquired by the Greeks and Italians, with a due perseverance in the studies which lead to perfection, and with those encouragements and support of patronage which are due to genius?
"As the source of that patronage, we look up with affectionate gratitude to the benign and flattering attention of our most gracious Sovereign, to whose regard for the elegant arts, and munificent disposition to cherish every enlargement of science, and improvement of the human mind, his people are indebted for this public seminary, his own favoured Institution, and the first which this country has ever been so fortunate as to see established. Under his royal patronage and support, this Academy has risen to its present strength and flourishing condition. His patronage, which would be improperly estimated by mere expenditure, in a country not similar in the latitude of government, or in the controul over revenue, to ancient Greece or modern Italy, but properly by its diffusive influence, has been the source of every other patronage in the country; has inspired that refined taste and ardour for elegant arts, which have given in fact a new character to the people, and has raised within and without this Academy that body of distinguished men, whose works have contributed to immortalise his reign, as his love for the arts has become the means of immortalising them.
"The patronage which has flowed from other quarters, deserves very honourable mention; and is of so much importance, that without it the spirit of art must droop, and the very profession of it be contracted in every situation whatever. It is not by the influence and support of any individual character, how elevated soever, or how warm soever in his attachment to taste and elegance, that the extent of professional talents spread through a country, can be effectually sustained with adequate encouragements. It is the wealthy and the great, who are commonly trained by their situations to the perception of what is elegant and refined, that must come forward in such an illustrious undertaking. It is only they who can meet every where the merit, let it be disseminated as it may, which is entitled, to distinction. Without the patronage of such, the arts could never have obtained their high meridian in Greece and Italy. Had not the communities and rich individuals in Greece taken the arts under their protection, not all the encouragement of Pericles, or of Alexander the Great, could have drawn forth that immense body of painting and sculpture which filled the country. Had the patronage of Italy rested with the popes and princes, unaccompanied by those munificent supports which flowed from the churches and convents, as well as from private individuals of rank and wealth, the galleries of that country could never have been so superbly filled as they were, nor could those collections have been made from thence, which have filled so many galleries and cabinets elsewhere.
"These facts are not to be denied; but they also lead us to another lesson, which is, that the patronage so generally dispensed was for the protection of living genius, and that they by whom it was so dispensed sought no other collections than the works of native and living artists. On any other ground there can be no such thing as patronage. Nothing else is worthy of that name. The true and generous patron of great works selects those which are produced by the talents existing around him. By collecting from other countries, he may greatly enrich himself, but can never give celebrity to the country in which he lives. The encouragement extended to the genius of a single artist, though it may produce but one original work, adds more to the celebrity of a people, and is a higher proof of true patriotic ardour, and of a generous love for the progress of art, than all the collections that ever were made by the productions of other countries, and all the expenditures that ever were bestowed in making them. Did the habits of our domestic circumstances, like those of Italy, permit the ingenious student to have access to those works of established masters, procured by the spirit of their noble and wealthy possessors, and of many distinguished amateurs on the most liberal terms, and with the honourable purpose of forming the taste, as well as enriching the treasures, of the country, every thing would then be done, which is wanting to complete the public benefit of such collections, and the general gratitude to which they who have made them would be entitled. So abundant are the accomplished examples in art already introduced among us, that there would then be no necessity for students to run to other countries for those improvements which their own can furnish.
"It cannot be improper at any time to make these remarks; while it must also be observed, that the patronage held forth by many great and noble characters needs no spur; and the means projected by other spirited individuals in opulent stations, for extending and perpetuating the works of British masters, fall short in no degree of the most fervid energies and examples, of which any country has been able to boast.
"It is your duty, young gentlemen, to become accomplished in your professions, that you may keep alive those energies and examples of patronage, when you come to draw the attention of the world to your own works. It is by your success that the arts must be carried on and preserved here. Patronage can only be expected to follow what is eminently meritorious, and more especially that general patronage diffused through the more respectable ranks of society, which is to professional merit, what the ocean is to the earth;--the great fund from whence it must ever be refreshed, and without whose abundance, conveyed through innumerable channels, every thing must presently become dry, and all productions cease to exist."
Chap. XII.
Discourse.--Introduction.--Of appropriate Character in Historical Composition.--Architecture among the Greeks and Romans.--Of the Athenian Marbles.--Of the Ancient Statues.--Of the Moses and Saviour of Michael Angelo.--Of the Last Judgment of Michael Angelo.--Of Leonardo da Vinci.--Of Bartolomeo.--Of Raphael.--Of Titian, and his St. Peter Martyr.--Of the different Italian Schools.--Of the Effects of the Royal Academy.--Of the Prince Regent's Promise to encourage the Fine Arts.
After a careful examination of all the remaining notes of Mr. West, it appeared to me, that the discourse which he delivered on the 10th of December, 1811, was the only one that required particular notice, after those which I have already introduced. In some respects it will, perhaps, be deemed the most interesting of the whole.
"The few points," said the President, "upon which I mean to touch in the present Discourse, are those which more immediately apply to the students, who are generously striving to attain excellence in the first class of refined art,--historical painting.
"Whether their exertions are directed to painting, or the sister arts, architecture and sculpture, the first thing they must impress upon their minds, and engraft upon every shoot of their fancy, is that of the appropriate character, by which the subject they are about to treat, is distinguished from all other subjects. On this foundation, all the points of refined art which are, in the truest sense, intellectual, invariably rest; for without justness of character the works of the pencil can have but little value, and can never entitle the artist to the praise of a well-governed genius, or of possessing that philosophical precision of judgment, which is the source of excellence in the superior walk of his profession. At the same time, let it be indelibly fixed in your minds, that when decided character is to be given, that character must be accompanied by correctness of outline, whether it be in painting or in sculpture. Any representation of the human figure, in the higher department of art, wanting these requisites, is, to the feelings of the educated artist, deficient in that, for the loss of which no other excellency can compensate.
"Architecture.--This department of art received its decided character from the Greeks. They distinctly fixed the embellishments to the several orders; and, by their adaptation of these embellishments and orders, their buildings obtained a distinct and appropriate character, which declared the uses for which they were erected.
"The Romans, in their best era of taste, copied their Grecian instructors in that appropriate character of embellishment which explained, at a glance, the use of their respective buildings; but, in their latter ages, they declined from this original purity; and it is the fragments of that corruption, in which they lost the characteristic precision of the Greeks, that we have seen of late years employed upon many of our buildings. The want of mental reflection in employing the orders of architectures with a rational precision as to character, produces the same sort of deficiency which we find in an historical picture; where, although each figure, in correct proportion, be well drawn, with drapery elegantly folded, yet, not being employed appropriately to the subject, affords no satisfaction to the spectator.
"The Greeks were in architecture what they were in sculpture; and it is to them you must look for the original purity of both. We feel rejoiced, that the exertions recently made by a noble personage to enrich our studies in both of these departments of art are such, that we may say, London has become the Athens for study. It is the mental power displayed in the Elgin marbles that I wish the juvenile artist to notice. Look at the equestrian groups of the young Athenians in this collection, and you will find in them that momentary motion which life gives on the occasion to the riders and their horses. The horse we perceive feels that power which the impulse of life has given to his rider; we see in him the animation of his whole frame; in the fire of his eyes, the distention of his nostrils, and in the rapid motion of his feet, yielding to the guidance of his rider, or in the speeding of his course: they are, therefore, in perfect unison with the life in each. At this moment of their animation, they appear to have been turned into stone by some majestic power, and not created by the human hand. The single head of the horse, in the same collection, seems as if it had, by the same influence, been struck into marble, when he was exerting all the energy of his motion.
"These admirable sculptures, which now adorn our city, are the union of Athenian genius and philosophy, and illustrate my meaning respecting the mental impression which is so essentially to be given to works of refined art. It was this point which the Grecian philosophers wished to impress on the minds of their sculptors, not to follow their predecessors the Egyptians in sculpture, who represented their figures without motion, although nearly perfect in giving to them the external form. 'It is the passions,' said they, 'with which man is endowed, that we wish to see in the movements of your figures.' This advice of the philosophers was felt by the sculptors, and the Athenian marbles are the faithful records of the efficacy of that advice.
"That you may distinctly perceive and invariably distinguish what we mean by appropriate character in art, particularly in sculpture, I would class with these sculptures, the Hercules, the Apollo, the Venus, the Laocoon, and the Gladiator. In these examples you will find what is appropriate in character to subject, united with correctness of outline; and it is this combination of truths which has arrested the attention of an admiring world, ever since they were produced; and which will attract to them the admiration of after ages, so long as the workings of the mind on the external form can be contemplated and understood.
"Now let us see what works there are since the revival of art in the modern world, which rest on the same basis of appropriate character and correctness of outline, with those of the ancient Greeks.
"The Moses which the powers of Michael Angelo's mind has presented to our view, claims our first attention. In this statue the points of character, in every mode of precise, determinate, and elevated expression, have been carried to a pitch of grandeur which modern art has not since excelled. In this figure of Moses, Michael Angelo has fixed the unalterable standard of the Jewish lawgiver,--a character delineated and justified by the text in inspired sculpture. The character of Moses was well suited to the grandeur of the artist's conceptions, and to the dreadful energy of his feelings. Accordingly, in mental character, this figure holds the first station in modern art; and I believe we may venture to say, had no competitor in ancient, except those of the Jupiter and Minerva by Phidias. But the Saviour, all meekness and benevolence, which Michael Angelo made to accompany the Moses, was not in unison with his genius. The figure is mean, but slightly removed from an academical figure, and in no point appropriate to the subject: so are most of the single figures of the artist, in his great work on the Day of Judgment; but his groups in that composition are every where in character, and have not their rivals either in painting or sculpture. His Bacchus claims our admiration, as being appropriate to the subject, by the same excellence in delineation which distinguish the groups in the Day of Judgment. No person can have a higher veneration than I have for that grandeur of character impressed on the figures by Michael Angelo; but it is the fitness of the characters and of the action to the subject, to which I wish to draw your attention, and not to pour out praise on those points, in which he and other eminent masters are deficient. On this occasion, I must therefore be permitted to repeat, that most of the single figures in his great work of the Day of Judgment, are deficient in the fitness of appropriate character, and in the fitness of appropriate action to the subject; although as single figures they demand our admiration. But excellent as they are, they are but the ingenious adaptation of legs, arms, and heads, to the celebrated Torso, which bears his name, and which served as the model to most of his figures. All figures in composition, however excellent they may be in delineation, which have not their actions and expressions springing from the subject in which they are the actors, can only be considered as academical efforts, without the impress of mental power, and without any philosophical attention to the truth of the subject which the artist intended to illustrate.
"Leonardo da Vinci is the first who had a full and right conception of the principle which I wish to inculcate, and he has shown it in his picture of the Last Supper. But it is necessary to distinguish what parts of the picture deserve consideration. It is the decision, the appropriate character of the apostles to the subject; the significance of expression in their several countenances, and the diversity of action in each figure; their actions seemingly in perfect unison with their minds, and their figures individually in unison with their respective situations; some are confused at the words spoken by our Saviour: "There is one amongst you who shall betray me;" others are thrown under impressions of a different feeling. In this respect the picture has left us without an appeal, either to nature or to art. But Da Vinci failed in the head of our Saviour. He has failed in his attempt to combine the almost incompatible qualities of dignity and meekness which are demanded in the countenance of the Saviour. He had exhausted his powers of characteristic discrimination in the heads of the apostles; and in his attempt to give meekness to the countenance of Jesus, he sank into insipience. He had the prudence, therefore, to leave the face unfinished, that the imagination of the beholder might not be disappointed by an imperfect image, but form one in his mind more appropriate to his feelings and to the subject. The ruin of this picture, the report of which I understand is true, has deprived the world and the arts of one of the mental eyes of painting. But pleasing as the works of Leonardo da Vinci are in general, had he not produced this picture of the Last Supper, and the cartoon of the equestrian combatants for the standard of victory, he would scarcely have emerged, as a painter of strong character, above mediocrity. Indeed the back-ground, and general distribution of this picture, sufficiently mark their Gothic origin. But his pictures, generally speaking, are more characterised by their laborious finishing, gentleness, and sweetness of character, than by the energies of a lively imagination.
"Fra. Bartolomeo di St. Marco, of Florence, was one of the first who became enamoured of that superiority which grandeur and decision of character gives to art; and, indeed, of all those higher excellences which the philosophical mind of Da Vinci had accomplished. In the pictures of Bartolomeo we behold, for the first time, that breadth of the clair-obscure--the deep tones of colour, with their philosophical arrangement, united to that noble folding of drapery appropriate to, and significant of, every character it covered; a point of excellence in this master, from which Raphael caught his first conception of that noble simplicity which distinguishes the dignity of his draperies, and which it became his pride through life to imitate.
"Bartolomeo, in his figure of St. Mark, has convinced us how important and indispensable is the union of mental conception with truth of observation, in order to give a decided and appropriate character to an Evangelist of the Gospel. None of the pictures of this artist possess the excellence of his St. Mark except one, which is in the city of Lucca, the capital of the republic of that name; and, as that picture is but little known to travellers, and almost unknown to many artists who have visited Italy, a description of it may not be unacceptable.
"The picture is on pannel, and its dimensions somewhat about twenty feet in height by fourteen in width. The subject is the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. The composition is divided into three groups; the Apostles and the sepulchre form the centre group, from the midst of which the Virgin ascends; her body-drapery is of a deep ruby colour, which is the only decided red in the picture, and her mantle blue, but in depth of tone approaching to black, and extended by angels to nearly each side of the picture. This mantle is relieved by a light, in tone resembling that of the break of day, seen over the summit of a dark mountain, which gives an awful grandeur to the effect of the picture on entering the chapel, in which it is placed over the altar. That awful light of the morning is contrasted with the golden effulgence above; in the midst of which, our Saviour is seen with extended arms, to receive and welcome his mother.
"From the sepulchre, and the Apostles in the centre, to the fore-ground, the third group of figures partly lies in shade, occasioned by the over-shadowing of the Virgin's deep-toned mantle extended by angels. On the other part of the group, on the side where the light enters, the figures are seen in the broad blaze of day; and amongst them is the portrait of the artist.
"When I first saw this picture, my sensations were in unison with its awful character; and I confess that I was touched with the same kind of sensibility as when I heard the inexpressibly harmonious blendings of vocal sounds in the solemn notes of Non nobis Domine. I never felt more forcibly the dignity of music and the dignity of painting, than from these two compositions of art.
"When we consider the combination of excellence requisite to produce the sublime in painting; the union of propriety with dignity of character; the graceful grouping; the noble folding of drapery, and the deep sombrous tones of the clair-obscure, with appropriate colours harmoniously blending into one whole;--if there is a picture entitled to the appellation of sublime, from the union of all these excellences, It is that which I have described: considered in all its parts, it is, perhaps, superior to any work in painting, which has fallen under my observation.
"When these powerful essays in art by Da Vinci, Bartolomeo di St. Marco, and Michael Angelo became celebrated, Raphael, having attained his adult age, made his appearance at Florence; where the influence of the works of those three great artists pervaded all the avenues to excellence in art.
"The gentle sensibility of Raphael's mind was like the softened wax which makes more visible and distinct the form of the engraving with which it is touched. Blest by Nature with this endowment, he became like the heir to the treasured wealth of many families. Enriched by the accumulated experience which was then in Florence, united to the early tuition of delineating from nature under Pietro Perugino, and the subsequent discoveries of the Grecian relics, Raphael's mind became stored with all that was excellent; and he possessed a practised hand, to make his conceptions visible on his tablets. Possessing these powers, he was invited to Rome, and began his picture of The Dispute on the Sacrament. This picture he finished, together with The School of Athens, before he had attained his twenty-eighth year. At Rome he found himself amidst the splendour of a refined court, and in the focus of human endowment. He became sensible of the rare advantages of his situation; he had industry and ardour to combine and to embrace them all; and the effect is visible in his works. The theological arrangement of the disputants on the Sacrament, and the scholastic controversies at Athens, convince us of this truth. In the upper part of the Dispute on the Sacrament, something may be observed of that taste of Bartolomeo in drapery, and of the dryness and hardness of his first master Pietro Perugino; but in the parts which make the aggregate of that work, he has blended the result of his own observations. In his School of Athens, this is still more strikingly the case; and in his Heliodorus we see additional dignity and an enlargement of style.
"At this period of his life, such was the desire of his society by the great, and such the ambition of standing forward amongst his patrons by all who were eminent for rank and taste, that he was seduced into courtly habits, and relaxed from that studious industry, with which he had formerly laboured; and there are evident marks in many of his works in the Vatican, of a decline of excellence, and that he was suffering pleasure and indolence to rob him of his fame. Sensible of this decline in his compositions, the powers of his mind re-assumed their energies; and that re-animation stands marked in his unrivalled compositions of the Cartoons which are in this country, and in the picture of the Transfiguration.
"The transcendant excellence in composition, and in appropriate character to subject, in the cartoon of Paul preaching at Athens, has left us to desire or expect nothing farther to be done in telling this incident of history.
"In the composition of the death of Ananias, and in the single figure of Elymas the sorcerer struck blind, we have the same example of excellence. We have indeed in many of the characters and groups in the cartoons, the various modes of reasoning, speaking, and feeling; but so blended with nature and truth, and so precise and determined in character, that criticism has nothing wherewith in that respect to ask for amendment.
"Had the life of this illustrious painter, which closed on his birth-day in his thirty-seventh year, been prolonged to the period of that of Leonardo da Vinci, Michael Angelo, or Titian, when in the space of seventeen years at Rome he has given the world more unrivalled works of art, than has fallen to the lot of any other painter, what an additional excellence might we not have expected in his works for subsequent generations to admire.
"The next distinguished artist who comes under our consideration is Titian. The grandeur which Michael Angelo gave to the human figure, Titian has rivalled in colour, and both were dignified during their lives with the appellation of The Divine.
"I will pass over the many appropriate portraits which he painted of men, and the portraits of women, though not the most distinguished for beauty, in the character of Venus, to meet the fashion of the age in which he lived; and notice only those works of mental power, which have raised him to eminence in the class of refined artists. On this point, you will find that his picture of St. Peter Martyr will justify the claim he has to that rank.
"St. Peter the Martyr was the head of a religious sect: when on his way from the confines of Germany to Milan with a companion, he was attacked by one in opposition to his religious principles while passing through a wood, and murdered. This is the subject of the picture. The prostrate figure of the Saint, just fallen by a blow from the assassin, raises one of his hands towards heaven, with a countenance of confidence in eternal reward for the firmness of his faith; while the assassin grasps with his left hand the mantle of his victim, the better to enable him, by his uplifted sword in the other hand, to give the fatal blow to the fallen saint. The companion is flying off in frantic dismay, and has received a wound in the head from the assassin.
"The ferocious and determined action of the murderer bestriding the body of the fallen saint, completes a group of figures which have not a rival in art. The majestic trees, as well as the sable and rugged furze, form an awful back-ground to this tragical scene, every way appropriate to the subject. The heavenly messengers seen in the glory above, bearing the palm branches as the emblem of reward for martyrdom, form the second light; the first being the sky and cloud, which gives relief to the black drapery of the wounded companion; while the rays of light from the emanation above, sparkling on the dark branches of the trees as so many diamonds, tie together by their light all the others from the top to the bottom of the picture. The terror which the act of the murderer has spread, is denoted by the speed of the horseman passing into the gloomy recesses of a distant part of the forest.
"This picture, taken in the aggregate, is the first work in art in which the human figure and landscape are combined as an historical landscape, and where all the objects are the full size of nature.
"When I saw this picture at Venice in 1761, it was then in the same state of purity as when the Bologna artists saw and studied it; and it is recorded that Caracci declared this picture to be without fault. But we have to lament the fatal effects which the goddess Bellona has ever occasioned to the fine arts when she mounts her iron chariot of destruction. When this picture fell under her rapacious power, on board a French vessel passing down the Adriatic sea from Venice, one of our cruisers chased the vessel into the port of Ancona, and a cannon-shot pierced the pannel on which the picture was painted, and shivered a portion of it into pieces.
"On its arrival at Paris, the committee of the fine arts found it necessary to remove the painting from the pannel, and place it on canvass; but the picture has lost the principal light.
"But to sum up Titian's powers of conception, no one has equalled him in the propriety and fitness of colour. His pictures of St. Peter Martyr; the David and Goliah; and the Last Supper, which is in the Escurial, stand in the very highest rank in art. On the latter of these pictures being finished, Titian in his letter to the King, announcing the circumstance, says that it had been the labour of seven years. But by his original sketch in oil colours, which I have the good fortune to possess, and by which we may form an estimate, although the general effect and composition are unrivalled, the characters of the heads of the apostles are not equal to those of Leonardo da Vinci on the same subject.
"Antonio Allegri da Correggio is the sixth source, whose emanating powers have illuminated the fine arts in the modern world. A superstitious mind, on seeing his works, would suppose that he had received his tuition in painting from the angels; as his figures seem to belong to another race of being than man, and to have something too celestial for the forms of earth to have presented to his view. Such have been the sayings of many on seeing his works at Parma, but, to my conception, he painted from the nature with which he was surrounded. His pictures of the Note, St. Gierolimo, and the St. George, are evident proofs of the observation. In the first of these pictures his mental conception shines supreme. It is the idea of illuminating the child in the subject of our Saviour's nativity. This splendid thought of giving light to the infant Christ, whose divine mission was to illuminate the human mind from Pagan darkness, no painter has since been so bold as to omit in any composition on the same subject. The two latter pictures have all the beauties seen in the paintings of this master, but they are deficient in appropriate character.
"The inspiring power of Correggio's works illuminated the genius of Parmegiano, the energetic movements of whose graceful figures have never been equalled, nor are they deficient in the moral influence of the art. His Moses breaking the tables in a church at Parma, and his picture of the vision of St. Gierolimo, now in England, are filled with the impress of his intellectual powers, and stand pre-eminent over all his works.
"I have thus taken a survey of the works of art, which stand supreme among the productions of Grecian and Italian genius, and which are the sources from which the subsequent schools have derived most of the principles of their celebrity.
"The papal vortex drew into it nearly all the various powers of human refinement, and the inspiring influence of the first school in art having centered in Rome gave it superiority, till the Constable Bourbon, by sacking that city, obliged the fine arts to fly from their place, like doves from the vultures: they never re-appeared at Rome but with secondary power.
"About a century subsequent to their flight from Rome they were re-animated, and formed the second school of art in Italy at the city of Bologna under the Carracci, at the head of which was Ludovico. He and his two relatives, Hanibal and Augustin Carracci, derived their principles from the Venetian School, from Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoret, and from the Lombard School of Correggio and Parmegiano. But the good sense of Ludovico raised by them and himself a school of their own, which excelled in the power of delineating the human figure, but which power gave to that school more academical taste than mental character.
"Their great work was that in the convent of St. Michael in Boresco, near Bologna; but this work has perished by damp, and the only remains on record of what it was, are in the coarse prints which were done from copies executed when it was in good condition. But grand as it must have been according to the evidence of these prints, it was but an academical composition.
"The picture by Ludovico, however, of our Saviour's Transfiguration on the Mount, consisting of six figures double the size of life, has embraced nearly all the points of art, and has placed the artist high in the first class of painters.
"The masters of the Bolognese school going to Rome and other parts of Italy, their successors at Bologna contented themselves by retailing the several manners of the three Carracci--Guido, Domenichino and Guercino. This system of retailing continued to descend from master to pupil, until the school of Bologna sunk into irrecoverable imbecility.
"The most esteemed work in painting by Augustine Carracci is the Communion of St. Jerom. It possesses grandeur of style, is bold in execution, and the faces are not deficient in the appropriate expression of sensibility towards the object before them. It was on the composition of this picture, that Domenichino formed his on the same subject, so much celebrated as to be considered next in merit to Raphael's Transfiguration. But fine as it is admitted to be, we must say, as a borrowed idea, it lessens the merit of the artist's originality of mind.
"The finest picture by Guido is in a church at Genoa, where he has brought to a focus all the force of his powers in grace and beauty, with an expression and execution of pencil rarely to be met with in art. The subject is the Assumption of the Virgin Mary. The angels, who surround the Virgin, have something in their faces so celestial, that they seem as if they had really descended from Heaven, and sat to the artist while he painted them. The Virgin herself seems to have had the same complacency. The characters of the Apostles' heads are so exquisitely drawn and painted, as to be without competition in the works of any other painter.
"The most esteemed picture by Guercino is is that of Santa Petranella, which he painted for St. Peter's Church, at Rome.
"But, Gentlemen, if you aspire to excellence in your profession, you must not rest your future studies on the excellence of any individual, however exalted his name or genius; but, like the industrious bee, survey the whole face of nature, and sip the sweets from every flower. When thus enriched, lay up your acquisitions for future use; and with that enrichment from Nature's inexhaustible source, examine the great works of art to animate your feelings, and to excite your emulation. When you are thus mentally enriched, and your hand practised to obey the powers of your will, you will then find your pencils, or your chisels, as magic wands, calling into view creations of your own, to adorn your name and your country.
"I cannot, however, close this Discourse, without acknowledging a debt due from this Academy, as well as that which is due to the Academy itself. Soon after His present Majesty had ascended the throne, his benign regard for the prosperity of the fine arts in these realms was manifested by his gracious commands to establish this favoured Institution.
"The heart of every artist, and of the friend of art, glowed with mutual congratulation to see a British King, for the first time, at the head of the fine arts. His Majesty nominated forty members guardians to his infant academy; and that they have been faithful to the trust which he graciously reposed in them, the several apartments under this roof sufficiently testify. The professors are highly endowed with accomplishments and scientific knowledge in the several branches to which they are respectively appointed; and the funds able to render relief to the indigent and decayed artists, their widows and children.
"Who can reflect for a moment on the rare advantages here held out for the instruction of youthful genius, and the aid given to the decayed, their widows and helpless offspring, without feeling the grateful emotions of the heart rise towards a patriot King, for giving to the arts this home within the walls of a stately mansion, and towards the members of this Academy, who, as his faithful guardians, have so ably fulfilled the purposes for which the Institution was formed.
"United to what the Academicians have done, and are doing, another honourable establishment, sanctioned by His Majesty for promoting the fine arts, has been created and composed of noblemen and gentlemen whose known zeal for the success of refined art is so conspicuous and honourable to themselves.
"Such have been the efforts to give splendour to the fine arts in this country, and such are the results which have attended these exertions; that knowing, as we do, the movements of the arts on the Continent, I may confidently say, that our annual exhibitions, both as to number and taste, engrafted on nature and the fruit of mental conception, are such that all the combined efforts in art on the continent of Europe in the same time have not been able to equal. To such attainments, were those in power but to bestow the crumbs from the national table to cherish the fine arts, we might pledge ourselves, that the genius of Britain would, in a few years, dispute the prize with the proudest periods of Grecian or Italian art. But, Gentlemen, let us not despair; we have heard from this place, the promise of patronage from the Prince Regent, the propitious light of a morning that will open into perfect day, invigorating the growth of all around--the assurance of a new era to the elevation of the fine arts, in the United Kingdom."
Chap. XIII.
Mr. West's Visit to Paris.--His distinguished Reception by the Members of the French Government.--Anecdote of Mr. Fox.--Origin of the British Institution.--Anecdotes of Mr. Fox and Mr. Percival.--Anecdote of the King.--History of the Picture of Christ Healing the Sick.--Extraordinary Success attending the Exhibition of the Copy in America.
During the Peace of Amiens, Mr. West, like every other person who entertained any feeling of admiration for the fine arts, was desirous of seeing that magnificent assemblage of paintings and sculptures, which constituted the glory and the shame of Buonaparte's administration. He accordingly furnished himself with letters from Lord Hawkesbury, then Secretary of State, to Mr. Merry, the British representative at the consular court; and also with introductions from Monsieur Otto, the French minister in London, to the most distinguished members of his government.
On delivering Lord Hawkesbury's letters to Mr. Merry, that gentleman informed him that one of the French ministers had, the preceding evening, mentioned that Monsieur Otto had written in such terms respecting him, that he and his colleagues were resolved to pay him every mark of the most distinguished attention. Mr. Merry, therefore, advised Mr. West to call on the several ministers himself with the letters, and leave them with his card. As the object for which the Artist had procured these introductions was only to obtain, with more facility, access to the different galleries, he was rather embarrassed by this information; and would have declined delivering the letters altogether; but Mr. Merry said, that, as his arrival in Paris was already known to the government, he could not with any propriety avoid paying his respects to the ministers.
After delivering his letters and card accordingly, the hotel where he resided was, in the course of the week, visited by all the most distinguished of the French statesmen; and he had the honour of being invited to dine with them successively. At these parties, the conversation turned very much on the importance of the arts to all nations aspiring to fame and eminence; and he very soon perceived, that the vast collection of trophies which adorned the Louvre, had not been formed so much for ostentatious exhibition, as with a view to furnish models of study for artists; constituting, in fact, but the elementary part of a grand system of national decoration designed by Buonaparte, and by which he expected to leave such memorials to posterity as would convince the world that his magnificence was worthy of his military achievements.
It happened at this particular period, that the galleries of the Louvre were closed to the public for some time, but a deputation from the Central Administration of the Arts, under whose care the collections were particularly placed, waited on Mr. West, and informed him, that orders were given to admit him and his friends at all times. Denon was at the head of this deputation; and in the course of the conversation which then took place, that accomplished enthusiast explained to Mr. West more circumstantially the extensive views entertained by the French government with respect to the arts, mentioning several of the superb schemes which were formed by the First Consul for the decoration of the capital.
This information made a very deep impression on the mind of Mr. West, and he felt extremely sorrowful when he reflected, that hitherto the British government had done nothing decidedly with a view to promote the cultivation of those arts, which may justly be said to constitute the olive wreath on the brows of every great nation. Mr. Fox and Sir Francis Baring, who were at this same time in Paris, happened soon after the departure of Monsieur Denon to call, and they went with Mr. West to the Louvre, where, as they were walking in the gallery, he explained to them what he had heard. An interesting discussion took place in consequence; and Mr. West endeavoured to explain in what manner he considered the cultivation of the fine arts of the utmost importance even in a commercial point of view to England.
Mr. Fox paid great attention to what he said, and observed, in a tone of regret, "I have been rocked in the cradle of politics from my infancy, and never before was so much struck with the advantage, even in a political bearing, of the fine arts to the prosperity, as well as the renown, of a kingdom; and I do assure you, Mr. West, that if ever I have it in my power to influence our government to promote the arts, the conversation that we have had to-day shall not be forgotten." Sir Francis Baring also concurred in opinion, that it was really become an imperious duty, on the part of the British nation, to do something for a class of art that, undoubtedly, tended to improve the beauty, and multiply the variety of manufactures, independent of all monumental considerations.
When Mr. West had returned home, the subject was renewed with Sir Francis Baring; and he endeavoured to set on foot the formation of a society, which should have the encouragement of the line arts for its object, and thought that government might be induced to give it pecuniary assistance. Sir Thomas Barnard took up the idea with great zeal; and several meetings took place at Mr. West's house, at which Mr. Charles Long and Sir Abraham Hume were present, which terminated in the formation of that association that now constitutes the British Institution, in Pall Mall. Mr. Long undertook to confer with Mr. Pitt, who was then again in power, on the subject, and the proposal was received by him with much apparent sincerity. But a disastrous series of public events about the same time commenced: the attention of the Minister was absorbed in the immediate peril of the state; and he fell a victim to his anxieties, without having had it in his power to further the objects of the association.
At the death of his great rival, Mr. Fox came into office; and he soon after called on Mr. West, and, reminding him of the conversation in the gallery of the Louvre, said, "It is my earnest intention, as soon as I am firmly seated on the saddle, to redeem the promise that I then made." But he also was frustrated in his intentions, and fell a sacrifice to disease, without being able to take any step in the business. In the mean time, the Shaksperian Gallery was offered for sale; and the gentlemen interested in this project raised a sum of money, by subscription, and purchased that building with the intention of making it the approach to a proposed national gallery.
From Mr. Percival the scheme met with a far different reception. He listened to the representations which Mr. West made to him with a repressive coldness, it might almost be said with indifference, had it not been marked with a decided feeling; for he seemed to consider the whole objects of the British Institution, and the reasons adduced in support of the claims which the interests of the arts had on government, as the visionary purposes of vain enthusiasts. It was not within the small compass of that respectable individual's capacity to consider any generous maxim as founded in what he deemed wisdom, or to comprehend, that the welfare of nations could be promoted by any other means than precedents of office, decisions of courts, and Acts of Parliament. An incident, however, occurred, which induced him to change his opinion of the utility of the fine arts.
At the anniversary dinner, in 1812, before the opening of the Academy, he was present, with other public characters. On the right hand of the President was seated the Lord Chancellor Eldon, on his left Lord Liverpool, and on the right of the Chancellor Mr. Percival. A conversation took place, naturally inspired by the circumstances of the meeting, in which Mr. West recapitulated what he had formerly so often urged; and Mr. Percival, perceiving the impression which his observations made on those to whom they were particularly addressed, requested him to put his ideas on the subject in writing, and he would lay it before the Prince Regent. This took place on Saturday; on Wednesday Mr. West delivered his memorial; on the Friday following Mr. Percival was assassinated; and since that time nothing farther has been done in the business.
It is perhaps necessary to notice here, that when it was first proposed to the King to sanction the establishment of the British Institution with his patronage, he made some objection, conceiving that it was likely to interfere with the Royal Academy, which he justly considered with the partiality of a parent. But on Mr. West explaining to him that the two institutions were very different in their objects, the Academy being formed for the instruction of pupils, and the other for the encouragement of artists arrived at maturity in their profession, His Majesty readily consented to receive the deputation of the association appointed to wait on him in form to solicit his patronage. Except, however, the honour of the King's name, the British Institution, formed expressly for the improvement of the public taste with a view to the encouragement of the arts, has received neither aid nor countenance as yet from the state.
Before concluding this summary account of the origin and establishment of the British Institution, it may be expected of me to take some notice of the circumstances connected with the purchase and exhibition of Mr. West's picture of Christ Healing the Sick in the Temple; an event which formed an era in the history of the arts in Britain, and contributed in no small degree to promote the interests of the Institution. Perhaps the exhibition of no work of art ever attracted so much attention, or was attended with so much pecuniary advantage to the proprietors; independent of which, the history of the picture is itself interesting.
Some years before, a number of gentlemen, of the society of Quakers in Philadelphia, set on foot a subscription for the purpose of erecting an hospital for the sick poor in that city. Among others to whom they applied for contributions in this country, they addressed themselves to Mr. West. He informed them, however, that his circumstances did not permit him to give so liberal a sum as he could wish, but that if they would provide a proper place in the building, he would paint a picture for it as his subscription, which perhaps would prove of more advantage than all the money he could afford to bestow, and with this intention he began the Christ Healing the Sick. While the work was going forward, it attracted a great deal of notice in his rooms, and finally had the effect of inducing the association of the British Institution to make him an offer of three thousand guineas for the picture. Mr. West accepted the offer, but on condition that he should be at liberty to make a copy for the hospital at Philadelphia, and to introduce into the copy such alterations and improvements as he might think fit. This copy he also executed, and the success which attended the exhibition of it in America was so extraordinary, that the proceeds have enabled the committee of the hospital to enlarge the building for the reception of no less than thirty additional patients.
Chap. XIV.
Reflections.--Offer of Knighthood.--Mr. Wyatt chosen President of the Academy.--Restoration of Mr. West to the Chair.--Proceedings respecting the Pictures for Windsor Castle.--Mr. West's Letter to the King.--Orders to proceed with the Pictures.--The King's Illness.--Mr. West's Allowance cut off,--and the Pictures countermanded.--Death of Mrs. West.--Death of the Artist.
Hitherto it has been my pleasant task to record the series of prosperous incidents by which Mr. West was raised to the highest honours of his profession; and had he survived the publication of this volume, I should have closed the narrative with the last chapter. But his death, which took place after the proof was sent to me for his inspection, has removed an obligation which I had promised to respect during his life, while it was understood between us that the circumstances to which it related were to be carefully preserved for a posthumous publication. The topics are painful, and calculated to afford a far different view of human nature from that which I have ever desired to contemplate: I do not allude to those things, connected with political matters, in which Mr. West was only by accident a witness, but of transactions which personally affected himself.
During the time that he was engaged in the series of great pictures for Windsor Castle, he enjoyed, as I have already mentioned, an easy and confidential intercourse with the King, and I ought, perhaps, to have stated earlier, that when he was chosen President of the Royal Academy, the late Duke of Gloucester called on him, and mentioned that His Majesty was desirous to know if the honour of knighthood would be acceptable. Mr. West immediately replied, that no man had a greater respect for political honours and distinctions than himself, but that he really thought he had already earned by his pencil more eminence than could be conferred on him by that rank. "The chief value," said he, "of titles are, that they serve to preserve in families a respect for those principles by which such distinctions were originally obtained. But simple knighthood, to a man who is at least already as well known as he could ever hope to be from that honour, is not a legitimate object of ambition. To myself, then, Your Royal Highness must perceive the title could add no dignity, and as it would perish with myself, it could add none to my family. But were I possessed of a fortune, independent of my profession, sufficient to enable my posterity to maintain the rank, I think that with my hereditary descent, and the station I occupy among artists, a more permanent title than that of knighthood might become a desirable object. As it is, however, that cannot be, and I have been thus explicit with Your Royal Highness that no misconception may exist on the subject." The Duke was not only pleased with the answer, but took Mr. West cordially by both the hands, and said, "You have justified the opinion which the King has of you, and His Majesty will be delighted with your answer;" and when Mr. West next saw the King his reception was unusually warm and friendly.
But notwithstanding all these enviable circumstances, Mr. West was doomed to share some of the consequences which naturally attach to all persons in immediate connection with the great. After his return from Paris, it was alleged, that the honourable reception which he allowed himself to receive from the French statesmen had offended the King. The result of this was the temporary elevation of the late Mr. Wyatt to the President's chair, merely, as I think, because that gentleman was then the royal architect; for it would be difficult to point out the merits which, as an artist, entitled him to that honour. But the election, so far from giving satisfaction in the quarter where it was expected to be the most acceptable, only excited displeasure; and Mr. West was, in due time, restored to his proper seat in the Academy.
This, as a public affair, attracted a good deal of notice at the time; but it was, in its effects, of far less consequence to Mr. West than a private occurrence, originating in circumstances that tend to throw a light on some of the proceedings that were deemed expedient to be adopted during the occasional eclipses of the King's understanding.
For upwards of twenty years Mr. West had received all his orders from the King in person: the prices of the pictures which he painted were adjusted with His Majesty; and the whole embellishment of Windsor Castle, in what related to the scriptural and historical pictures, was concerted between them, without the interference of any third party. But, in the summer of 1801, when the Court was at Weymouth, Mr. Wyatt called on Mr. West, and said, that he was requested by authority to inform him, that the pictures painting for His Majesty's chapel at Windsor should be suspended till further orders.
Mr. West was much surprised at this communication: but, upon interrogating Mr. Wyatt as to his authority, he found that it was not from the King; and he afterwards discovered that the orders were given at Weymouth by the Queen, the late Earl of Roslyn being present. What was the state of His Majesty's health at that time is now a matter of historical curiosity; but this extraordinary proceeding deserves particular notice. It rendered the studies of the best part of the Artist's life useless, and deprived him of that honourable provision, the fruit of his talents and industry, on which he had counted for the repose of his declining years. For some time it affected him deeply, and he was at a loss what steps to take; at last, however, in reflecting on the marked friendship and favour which the King had always shown him, he addressed to His Majesty a letter, of which the following is a copy of the rough draft, being the only one preserved: I give it verbatim:--
"The following is the Substance of a Letter I had the honour of writing to His Majesty, taken at Weymouth, by the conveyance of Mr. James Wyatt.
"To the King's Most Excellent Majesty.
"Gracious Sire, Newman St. Sept. 26. 1801.
"On the fifteenth of last month Mr. Wyatt signified to me Your Majesty's pleasure,--'That the pictures by me now painting for His Majesty's chapel at Windsor, should be suspended until further orders.' I feel it a duty I owe to that communication, to lay before Your Majesty, by the return of Mr. Wyatt to Weymouth, a statement of those pictures which I have painted to add to those for the chapel, mentioned in the account I had the honour to transmit to Your Majesty in 1797 by the hands of Mr. Gabriel Mathias. Since that period I have finished three pictures, began several others, and composed the remainder of the subjects for the chapel, on the progress of Revealed Religion, from its commencement to its completion; and the whole arranged with that circumspection from the Four Dispensations, into five-and-thirty compositions, that the most scrupulous amongst the various religious sects in this country, about admitting pictures into churches, must acknowledge them as truths, or the Scriptures fabulous. Those are subjects so replete with dignity, character, and expression, as demanded the historian, the commentator, and the accomplished painter, to bring them into view. Your Majesty's gracious complacency and commands for my pencil on that extensive subject stimulated my humble abilities, and I commenced the work with zeal and enthusiasm. Animated by your commands, gracious Sire, I renewed my professional studies, and burnt my midnight lamp to attain and give that polish at the close of Your Majesty's chapel, which has since marked my subsequent scriptural pictures. Your Majesty's known zeal for promoting religion, and the elegant arts, had enrolled your virtues with all the civilized world; and your gracious protection of my pencil had given to it a celebrity throughout Europe, and spread a knowledge of the great work on Revealed Religion, which my pencil was engaged on, under Your Majesty's patronage: it is that work which all Christendom looks with a complacency for its completion.
"Being distinguished by Your Majesty's benignity at an early period as a painter, and chosen by those professors highly endowed in the three branches of the fine arts to fill their highest station, and sanctioned by Your Majesty's signature in their choice;--in that station, I have been, for more than ten years, zealous in promoting merit in those three branches of art, which constitutes the views of Your Majesty's establishment for cultivating their growth. The ingenious artists have received my professional aid, and my galleries and my purse have been open to their studies and their distresses. The breath of envy, nor the whisper of detraction, never defiled my lips, nor the want of morality my character, and, through life, a strict adherer to truth; a zealous admirer of Your Majesty's virtues and goodness of heart, the exalted virtues of Her Majesty the Queen, and the high accomplishments of others of Your Majesty's illustrious family, have been the theme of my delight; and their gracious complacency my greatest pleasure and consolation for many years, with which I was honoured by many instances of friendly notice, and their warm attachment to the fine arts.
"With these feelings of high sensibility, with which my breast has ever been inspired, I feel with great concern the suspension given by Mr. Wyatt to the work on Revealed Religion, my pencil had advanced to adorn Windsor-Castle. If, gracious Sire, this suspension is meant to be permanent, myself and the fine arts have to lament. For to me it will be ruinous, and, to the energetic artist, in the highest branches of his professional pursuits--a damp in the hope of more exalted minds, of patronage in the refined departments in painting. But I have this in store, for the grateful feeling of my heart, that, in the thirty-five years by which my pencil has been honoured by Your Majesty's commands, a great body of historical and scriptural compositions will be found in Your Majesty's possession, in the churches, and in the country. Their professional claims may be humble, but they have been produced by a loyal subject of Your Majesty, which may give them some claim to respect, similar works not having been attained before in this country by a subject; and this I will assert as my claim, that Your Majesty did not bestow your patronage and commands on an ungrateful and a lazy man, but on him who had a high sense of Your Majesty's honours and Your Majesty's interests in all cases, as a loyal and dutiful subject, as well as servant, to Your Majesty's gracious commands; and I humbly beg Your Majesty to be assured that
"I am,
"With profound duty,
"Your Majesty's grateful
"BENJAMIN WEST."
To this letter Mr. West received no answer; but on the return of the Court to Windsor, he went to the Castle, and obtained a private audience of the King on the subject, by which it appeared that His Majesty was not at all acquainted with the communication of which Mr. Wyatt was the bearer, nor had he received Mr. West's letter. However, the result of the interview was, that the King said, "Go on with your work, West: go on with the pictures, and I will take care of you."
This was the last interview that Mr. West was permitted to enjoy with his early, constant, and to him truly royal patron; but he continued to execute the pictures, and in the usual quarterly payments received the thousand pounds per ann.. till His Majesty's final superannuation, when, without any intimation whatever, on calling to receive it, he was informed that it had been stopped, and that the intended design of the chapel of Revealed Religion was suspended.
This was a severe stroke of misfortune to the Artist, now far advanced in life, but he submitted to it with resignation. He took no measures, nor employed any influence, either to procure the renewal of the quarterly allowance, or the payment of the balance of his account. But being thus cast off from his best anchor in his old age, he still possessed firmness of mind to think calmly of his situation. He considered that a taste for the fine arts had been greatly diffused by means of the exhibitions of the Royal Academy, and the eclat which the French had given to pictures and statues by making them objects of national conquest; and having thus lost the patronage of the King, he determined to appeal to the public. With this view he resolved to paint several large pictures; and in the prosecution of this determination, he has been amply indemnified for the effects of that poor economy that frustrated the nation from obtaining an honourable monument of the taste of the age, and the liberality of a popular king.
Without imputing motives to any party concerned, or indeed without being at all acquainted with the circumstances that gave rise to it, I should mention that a paper was circulated among the higher classes of society, in which an account was stated of the amount of the money paid by His Majesty, in the course of more than thirty years, to Mr. West. In that paper the interval of time was not at all considered, nor the expense of living, nor the exclusive preference which Mr. West had given to His Majesty's orders, but the total sum;--which, shown by itself, and taken into view without any of these explanatory circumstances, was very large, and calculated to show that Mr. West might really indeed do without the thousand pounds a-year. In order, however, to place this proceeding in its true light, I have inserted in the Appendix an account of the works executed and designed by Mr. West for the King, and the prices allowed for them as charged in the audited account, of which the King himself had approved.
Independent of the relation which this paper bears to the subject of these memoirs, it is a curious document, and will be interesting as such, as long as the history of the progress of the arts in this country excites the attention of posterity.
I have now but little to add to these memoirs. But they would be deficient in an important event, were I to omit noticing the death of Mrs. West, which took place on the 6th of December, 1817. The malady with which she had been afflicted for several years smoothed the way for her relief from suffering, and softened the pang of sorrow for her loss. She was in many respects a woman of an elevated character; and her death, after a union of more than half a century, was to her husband one of those irreparable changes in life, for which no equivalent can ever be obtained.
The last illness of Mr. West himself was slow and languishing. It was rather a general decay of nature, than any specific malady; and he continued to enjoy his mental faculties in perfect distinctness upon all subjects as long as the powers of articulation could be exercised. To his merits as an artist and a man I may be deemed partial, nor do I wish to be thought otherwise. I have enjoyed his frankest confidence for many years, and received from his conversation the advantages of a more valuable species of instruction, relative to the arts, than books alone can supply to one who is not an artist. While I therefore admit that the partiality of friendship may tincture my opinion of his character, I am yet confident that the general truth of the estimate will be admitted by all who knew the man, or are capable to appreciate the merits of his works.
In his deportment, Mr. West was mild and considerate: his eye was keen, and his mind apt; but he was slow and methodical in his reflections, and the sedateness of his remarks must often in his younger years have seemed to strangers singularly at variance with the vivacity of his look. That vivacity, however, was not the result of any peculiar animation of temperament; it was rather the illumination of his genius; for when his features were studiously considered, they appeared to resemble those which we find associated with dignity of character in the best productions of art.
As an artist, he will stand in the first rank. His name will be classed with those of Michael Angelo and Raphael; but he possessed little in common with either. As the former has been compared to Homer, and the latter to Virgil, in Shakspeare we shall perhaps find the best likeness to the genius of Mr. West. He undoubtedly possessed, but in a slight degree, that peculiar energy and physical expression of character in which Michael Angelo excelled, and in a still less that serene sublimity which constitutes the charm of Raphael's great productions. But he was their equal in the fulness, the perspicuity, and the propriety of his compositions. In all his great works the scene intended to be brought before the spectator is represented in such a manner that the imagination has nothing to supply. The incident, the time and the place, are there as we think they must have been; and it is this wonderful force of conception which renders the sketches of Mr. West so much more extraordinary than his finished pictures. In the finished pictures we naturally institute comparisons in colouring, and in beauty of figure, and in a thousand details which are never noticed in the sketches of this illustrious artist. But although his powers of conception were so superior,--equal in their excellence to Michael Angelo's energy, or Raphael's grandeur,--still in the inferior departments of drawing and colouring, he was one of the greatest artists of his age; it was not, however, till late in life that he executed any of those works in which he thought the splendour of the Venetian school might be judiciously imitated.
At one time he intended to collect his works together, and to form a general exhibition of them all. Had he accomplished this, the greatness and versatility of his talents would have been established beyond all controversy; for unquestionably he was one of those great men, whose genius cannot be justly estimated by particular works, but only by a collective inspection of the variety, the extent, and the number of their productions.
On the 10th of March Mr. West expired without a struggle, at his house in Newman Street, and on the 29th he was interred with great funeral pomp in St. Paul's Cathedral. An account of the ceremony is inserted in the Appendix.