Canova now determined to execute a colossal statue of Religion, which should commemorate the return of the pope from banishment. He endeavored to persuade the authorities to decide where it should be placed; this was not done, and he was much grieved at his failure to carry out the idea. But he determined that from this time he would devote his life and fortune to religion, and resolved to erect a church at Possagno, to adorn it with works of art, and to make it his own burial-place.
On July 8th, 1819, Canova assembled his workmen in his native town, and gave them a fête; many peasant girls joined in the festivities and assisted in the breaking of the ground; at evening, as they all passed before Canova to bid him farewell, each one received a gift from him. Three days later the religious ceremony of laying the corner-stone of the future church took place. An immense number of people from the surrounding country and from Venice were present; Canova, in his robes as a Knight of Christ, and wearing the insignia of other orders, led the procession; all who had seen Canova when a poor boy in their midst were much impressed by this occasion. Here, in a public manner, he consecrated his life and fortune to the service of God and the benefit of his birthplace. Every autumn Canova went to Possagno to encourage the workmen and to give directions as to how the whole should be done. Between these visits he worked devotedly, for he was forced to earn all he could in order to pay for his great undertaking.
At this time he executed a statue of Washington, and was making an equestrian statue of Ferdinand of Naples, and in the month of May, 1822, went to that city, where he fell ill; he returned to Rome, and revived somewhat, and resumed his work. On September 17th he went to Possagno, in October to Villa Faliero, where, fifty years before, he had spent such happy days. From here he went to Venice, and on the 13th of the same month he died.
Solemn services were held in the cathedral, and his remains were then intrusted to the priests of Possagno, who bore them to their temple, where he was buried on the 25th of the month; the crowd was so great that the oration was delivered in the open air. Canova's heart was given to the Academy of Venice, and an elegant little monument was erected in the Palace of Arts to contain this relic of the sculptor. The Venetian artists arranged to erect to him a monument, and chose the design which he himself had made for the tomb of Titian; it is in the Church of Santa Maria de' Frari. In Rome a statue was decreed to him, and he was declared the perpetual President of her chief academy.
In personal appearance Canova was not grand or very attractive. His head was remarkably well placed upon his shoulders, and the loose manner in which he dressed his neck allowed this to be seen; his forehead was a noble one, his hair black, and his whole manner and dress was modest and simple. His habits were very orderly and quiet; he rose early to work, and went little into public society; but he welcomed a few friends to dinner almost daily. He entertained them cordially, but without display, and led the conversation to light, cheerful topics that did not touch upon art, or demand mental exertion. At eleven o'clock he retired to his own room and amused himself with a book or pencil before sleeping. Some of his best drawings were made at this hour, and have been published with the title of "Pensieri," or thoughts. To describe one day was to give a picture of all, so regular were his habits of life.
In his professional life he was just and generous to others, and though he would have no pupils, he would leave everything to advise an artist or visit his works. He was also a patron of art, and had executed, at his own expense, the numerous busts of distinguished persons in the Capitoline Museum.
Fig. 116.—Hebe.
By Canova.
There is a story of a romance in his life. It is said that when he first arrived in Venice he fell in love with a beautiful girl who was older than himself, who went to draw in the Farsetti Gallery. Day by day he watched her until she came no more; at length her attendant returned, and Canova inquired for her mistress; she burst into tears and answered, "La Signora Julia is dead." He asked no more, and never knew who Julia was or any circumstances of her history; but all his life he treasured her image, and when he endeavored to unite the purity of an angel with the earthly beauty of a woman, the remembrance of Julia was always in his mind.
Canova was one of the few artists who received their full merit of praise and the benefits of their labors while alive. Without doubt he was a great sculptor, and coming as he did, at a time when art was at its worst, he seemed all the more remarkable to the men around him. But the verdict of to-day would not exalt him as highly as did his friends and patrons. His statues lack the repose which makes the grandest feature of the best sculpture; his female figures have a sentimental sort of air that is not all we could wish, and does not elevate them above what we may call pleasing art. His male figures are better, more natural and simple, though some of his subjects bordered on the coarse and brutal, as in the two fencers, Kreugas and Damoxenes, or Hercules and Lichas. But in his religious subjects he is much finer, and in some of his monuments he shows dignity and earnestness, while his composition is in the true artistic spirit. Taken on the whole, he was a wonderful artist and a man of whom his century might well be proud.