His art was scarcely at any time absent from his mind, even in times of social relaxation or of more serious employment. He could hardly enter a room without seeing capabilities in it, and longing to develope them. But when an important design was in progress, it seemed to take entire possession of his mind. It was his custom to work it out almost wholly for himself, in its scientific and financial as well as its artistic bearings. His extraordinary rapidity of execution and untiring industry enabled him to keep up this custom to a great extent, even in his busiest times. In fact, when a design was once conceived—when it had once taken possession of his imagination—hard work at it was a relief. The idea of it would occur to him at his first waking, and he could not but rise, however early the hour, and set to work. Adverse criticism at such a time was rejected or disregarded, but a few days later it would be found to have sunk into his mind unconsciously; then it would be rapidly seized upon as if original, and its results, often greatly modified and reconstructed, would be produced in the most perfect good faith as new, perhaps to the very person who had first made the criticism. Difficulties were forgotten or defied in the attempt to perfect the idea conceived; drawings of the more important parts of the work altered scores of times until his fastidious taste was satisfied. He could not conceive the idea of resting contented with what was acknowledged to be defective, and he held that the word “impossible” was to be erased from his dictionary. In this absorbing devotion to his art lay the cause of infinite labour, many troubles, and much misapprehension, but in it lay, as usual, the secret of success.
Another effect of this early freedom and self-direction was a vigorous growth of self-reliance and originality. It perhaps entailed some want of philosophic symmetry and largeness of view, especially at a time when there was comparatively little study of great principles of art as based on substantial reason. Grounds of criticism were then sought by the generality in conventional rules, and by the more active minds in arbitrary conceptions of “taste,” till society was divided into the connoisseurs, who were to pronounce their arbitrary judgment, and the “ignobile vulgus,” who were obediently and ignorantly to accept their conclusions. Yet it gave him the power of progress, and it kept him also free from any tendency to bigotry and copyism. There is indeed the highest kind of originality, which combines philosophic knowledge and study with the power of a true development. But in practice, especially in the domain of art, the most important steps of progress are probably due to men of a happy intuition and an unscientific audacity, and such men are usually men who have guided and educated themselves.
He himself was avowedly and on principle an eclectic. He could not help recognising the excellences of various schools: but he knew too much to be satisfied with any single one, as if it were all-comprehensive, and to conclude accordingly that to it alone praise and devotion are due. His principles of design and construction had been worked out for himself, the fruit of many crude conceptions in theory and many trials in practice. For that very reason they became so deeply rooted in his mind, that, when he attempted to change his course, he found himself insensibly returning to them. His early study of Greek architecture did not prevent his appreciation of Italian and Gothic; and so he stood apart from the exclusive devotion to one or other style which now seems to divide the architectural profession. Such a position is a difficult and dangerous one, in art, as well as in politics or theology, but those who occupy it supply the chief resisting influence to stagnation, and open some of the chief avenues of progress. In his case it was all but inevitable; his natural character, and his early freedom from the trammels of any school of art, forbade his taking any other course. For even in his early days those characteristics were fixed which determined his after career.
With these capabilities, and with a fixed and hopeful resolution to cut out a path for himself, he passed through his time of pupilage, and attained his majority in 1816. He now began to act for himself, and he at once conceived, or perhaps after long consideration declared openly, a determination on which much of his future success depended. He was naturally formed to make his way in the world. To the mental qualities already enumerated he added the advantages of a handsome person, great fascination of manner, high spirits, and a sanguine temperament, which was well calculated to inspire confidence and win affection. He believed that he had the elements of success in him, and that he only needed freedom of scope and a more extended sphere than he could obtain at home. The result verified his belief. Perhaps the prophecy fulfilled itself.
By his father’s will, he and each of his brothers had inherited a certain sum of money, and the remainder of this inheritance, diminished by the expense of his education and his articles, now came into his hands. The sum was not a large one, and it was his all, for he had little expectations of assistance from without in entering on the risks of a professional career. He resolved to devote the whole, or the greater part of it, to an architectural tour.
The Continent was just opened by the peace of 1815. All English society was awaking from the torpor and isolation of the great European war. Architecture was receiving a fresh stimulus by the cessation of external difficulties, and fresh principles and models from abroad were breaking in upon its stereotyped forms. He naturally felt, with all the impressibility of his character, the influence of this universal movement; and at the same time, from deliberate consideration, he saw that his only chance of developing the power and satisfying the desires of which he was conscious, his only chance of gaining a thorough grasp of his art, and taking a high stand in his profession, lay in foreign travel. His mind wanted objects which the narrow and prosaic character of his home life could not supply. It wanted the intercourse of a society from which conventional barriers shut it out in England; it wanted scope for activity, and models by which its activity might be guided. Without foreign travel he might have had the certainty of a respectable position and sufficient emoluments in his profession; with it he took the risk of delay and difficulty, and the chance of a noble career.
The choice was not likely to cause him much hesitation. He decided at once, and kept to his decision firmly, in spite of the natural remonstrances of his family, who felt the risk, but did not understand the necessity. Travel was then comparatively rare, and thought by many to be needless. It seemed madness to risk on it so much of his slender resources. His stepmother alone was led by her own strong good sense, and by her unlimited confidence in him, to give him her decided support. At last his plans were fixed, and his journey, the length of which he did not anticipate, or at any rate did not disclose, was determined upon.
Before he left England he was engaged to Miss Sarah Rowsell. Her father, Mr. Samuel Rowsell, was employed in the same line of business which his own father had followed. After about a year’s acquaintance, the engagement was made on the eve of his departure; and with this fresh tie to home, and fresh incentive to exertion, he left England in June, 1817.
CHAPTER II.
1817-1820.
TRAVELS IN FRANCE, ITALY, GREECE, EGYPT, AND THE EAST.
I. France and Italy.—General effects of travel—Study of classical architecture—Observation of natural scenery—Universality and accuracy of examination. II. Greece and Constantinople.—Growth of artistic power—Impressions of Athens and Constantinople—Contrast of the Turkish and Greek characters. III. Egypt and the East.—Great effect of Egyptian architecture upon him—Mehemet Ali’s government—Dendera, Esneh, Edfou, Philæ, Abousimbel, Thebes—Return to Cairo—Palestine—Jerash—Baalbec—Damascus—Palmyra. IV. Sicily and Italy.—Syracuse, Messina, Agrigentum, and Palermo—Return to Rome—Meeting with Mr. J. L. Wolfe—Systematic architectural study—Effects of Egyptian impressions—Italian palaces at Rome, Florence, Vicenza, and Venice—Italian churches—St. Peter’s, the Pantheon, the cathedrals at Florence and Milan—The Bridge of La Santa Trinita at Florence—The growth of his architectural principles—Return to England.