"Benedetti, the engraver, brought me last year, (in September,) a letter from you, in which you assured me of your unchanged, brotherly affection, and invited me to write to you sometimes, and to acquaint you with an opportunity of sending over to me some works of art. In October I answered your letter, and named at the same time two London printsellers, with whom the printsellers here, (Artaria and Co., and Mollo and Co.) are in correspondence. Half a year, however, has already elapsed, without my having heard from you. I can well understand that, pending the great work which you have undertaken, and will, I now hope, soon have finished, you may have had but little time for letter-writing; but I do not ask a formal letter of you, but only a line or two, to assure me you are well, and have not quite forgotten me. If, therefore, your fraternal love is not chilled, I hope to be gratified in this respect, before the scythe overtakes me, of which, at my time of life, when we are continually fancying we hear it behind us, one cannot be too distrustful.
"Much as I value your works of art, you must not think that what you promised me is the occasion of my now writing. No, my dear brother, I am not so selfish; your good health, and the success of your great undertaking, are to me matters of far greater concern than any works of art you could send me; and upon these two points I beseech you to set my mind at ease, be your letter ever so short.
"The affairs of our country wear a lamentably gloomy aspect; and I much fear that our fellow-countrymen will act as imprudently, and as awkwardly in the sequel, as they did at the commencement of the Swiss Revolution, thereby drawing a foreign power into the country. They then played a wretched part, and I only hope they will not do the same again. I do not know whether the new German books upon matters of art are to be had in London, or not; if you should meet with the first part of my Critical Catalogue of Engravings after classical masters, peruse it with indulgence. The second part will be better managed. In characterising Rafael, Correggio, and Titian, I have made use of the writings of Mengs; because I know that he has studied all his life after these three masters, and (in my opinion) writes philosophically on their styles of art; but for the rest, I confess, I do not consider Mengs to be that great artist which the world makes him, as laborious study is too evident in his works, and (according to my feeling) there is a something in them of an undecided and timid character.
"We have materials here for the advancement of art, which are no where to be had better—the Court spends (even now in war-time) twenty-six thousand florins yearly on the Academy; we have casts of all ancient statues of importance, which were to be seen in Rome, Florence, or Portici; also of more than a hundred of the most beautiful busts; models of individuals distinguished for beauty of person, taken from the life; skeletons; moveable anatomical figures. The great rooms, like halls, are filled with collections of these kinds; stipends, premiums are given; and, in short, every thing that can be desired for the encouragement of a school of art is here; and, nevertheless, hitherto without having produced any apparent advantage; for, where there is no susceptibility for the beautiful, every thing is to no purpose, and will probably be always to no purpose.
"Your London publications are every where held in the highest esteem, especially on account of the elegance of their execution, and the typographical splendour of the impressions. But they are all so high in price, that a private individual of moderate means cannot buy any of them, and must content himself with looking at the best in the collections of the great and rich.
"Füger, whom you may perhaps have known in Rome, is now director of the Academy of Arts here. He has exhibited a series of twenty designs from Klopstock's 'Messiah;' amongst which, some of particular interest. Our engravers, with the exception of Schmüzer, who has published four good prints from Rubens, are of no importance, and are for the most part to be looked upon as mere mechanics; and even if some of them have talent, they are obliged to engrave from insignificant things, in order to earn their bread.
"The other day, I found many people collected before the shop of my printseller, and staring at something in the window. I pressed through the crowd, and found your representation of "Hamlet's Ghost" was exposed in the window, of which all present, each in his way, were expressing their admiration. Now that I have prosed on to you of different things, I will spare you any more prosing.—Farewell, and be happy, and think sometimes, when in a good humour, of your ever-loving brother,
"Rodolph."
"If it should ever come into your head to write me a line, direct, Füessli, on the Nienn Laurenzer-House, No. 34, on the first floor, in Vienna.
"N. B.—The Nienn is a little river which flows by my house."