THE SPOSALIZIO

After the picture by Raphael, once in the Ducal Collection at Urbino, now in the Brera, Milan

The devotional influences of the Umbrian school, from which Raffaele must have imbibed his youthful impressions, were reproduced in his juvenile works under forms of loveliness new to that mountain land. His visits to Florence offered fresh inspirations, and taught him to ingraft upon the conventionalities of Christian art, whatever his keen sense of beauty could cull from the creations of beneficent Nature. But he painted her and all her works,

"Not as they are, but as they ought to be;"

nothing mean or debasing found a place in his inventions, and homely accessories were either refined or thrown into shade. On the banks of the Arno he became acquainted with another class of elegant forms, wherein the ancients had developed a beau-ideal, faultless in its external qualities, but alien to religious sentiment. The reaction against paganism, which Savonarola's eloquence had effected in the Tuscan capital, contributed perhaps to save Raffaele from this snare; but at the court of Rome, and more especially under the Medicean Leo, the temptation became too strong. Before the twofold seduction of incarnate beauty and classic forms, the types of his pristine admiration were gradually effaced, and his fidelity to them waxed faint. After elevating Christian painting to its culminating point, he lent himself unwittingly to its degradation, by selecting depraved loveliness equally for a Madonna or a Venus, by designing from it indiscriminately a Galatea or a saint. True, that what he lost in purity is, in the opinion of many, more than counterbalanced by his progress towards breadth and vigour; but without entering upon so wide an element of controversy, we may note the fact that, though all his pupils boldly followed that "new manner," their career was one of rapid descent, and that those who departed most widely from their master's purest conceptions have obtained least admiration from posterity.

Yet we must in a great measure acquit Raffaele of participating in the corruption which he shrank from combating. No work of depraved taste or immoral tendency has been brought home to his pencil, though the dissolute habits of his age readily applauded such libertinism in Giulio Romano, Titian, and Correggio. As to the long current statement, that his premature death was a well-earned result of vicious indulgences, the evidence, when sifted by recent research, entitles him to at least a negative verdict. No contemporary testimony gives the slightest countenance to the charge. It originated in a vague and random sentence of a commentator upon Ariosto, wherein four assertions out of six are palpably unfounded, and its gossiping character procured it a too ready admission from Vasari. The pure character of his works meets it with an effectual contradiction, on which those who best understand physiological conformation will most implicitly rely:—

"Love is too earthly, sensual for his dream;
He looks beyond it with his spirit eyes."

Another allegation remains to be examined, more detrimental to the artist, though less so to the man. During his progress through various styles, and in the composition of many works, Raffaele is said to have freely appropriated the ideas of others. There can scarcely be a doubt that his Graces were suggested by the antique marble at Siena; that several noble conceptions were transferred by him from the Carmine to the Vatican; that a group in the Incendio del Borgo was borrowed from Virgil's Trojan epic; that the arabesques of the Loggie were partly taken from the thermal corridors of Titus; and that other still more curious resemblances have been detected by an acute writer to whom we have already referred.[184] But such appropriations were established by authoritative precedents, from the conventionalities of Christian painting to the plagiarisms of Michael Angelo. The right to repeat themselves or others was recognised, though men of high genius rarely stooped to its absolute exercise. Raffaele,—"always imitating, always original," if we follow Sir Joshua's not unbiased strictures,—will accordingly be found, on closer examination, to have adapted rather than adopted the thoughts of others. Like the busy bee, culling sweets from every flower, he separated the honey from the wax, and reproduced, in new shapes and varied combinations, whatever of beauty he met with in nature or art. We may add another dictum of Sir Joshua,—"his known wealth was so great, that he might borrow where he pleased without loss of credit." These considerations seem fairly applicable to the influence exercised by Michael Angelo upon a few works of Sanzio. But if not the canon of criticism must be impartially administered. When the vigour of Buonarroti is adjudged to have been filched from Signorelli, his stalwart anatomy acknowledged as the legacy of Pollaiuolo; when Domenichino stands arraigned for transferring to his chef-d'œuvre, the communion of St. Jerome, the exact motive and theme of his master, Ludovico Caracci's canvas in the Pinacoteca at Bologna, it will be time to admit Reynolds's proposition, that "it is to Michael Angelo we owe even the existence of Raffaele, and that to him Raffaele owes the grandeur of his style." Sanzio, in truth, shrank not from competing with whatever he deemed worthy of emulation. But his was a fair and friendly rivalry, however little its spirit was understood or reciprocated by the wayward and overbearing Florentine, whose charge against Raffaele and Bramante of undermining him with Julius II., adduced in an idle letter, is not only contradicted by the character of these great men, but it is palpably improbable. To their influence, Buonarroti ascribes the suspension of that Pontiff's tomb, regarding which we shall have much to say in our fifty-third chapter. But as neither of them were sculptors, and as the Florentine was not yet known to the Pope, either as an architect or a painter, such jealousy would have been absurd; whilst the taunt of Sanzio's owing all he knew of art to Michael Angelo can only be regarded as the petty ebullition of a notoriously wayward temper. The employment of the latter upon the huge bronze statue of his Holiness at Bologna, was the real reason for the interruption of the monument, which it was reserved for Duke Francesco Maria I. to have completed.

Between these great masters no parallel can be fairly drawn, and had they wrought in the same town they would seldom have been placed in rivalry. But belonging to different states, and heading the antagonist schools of Rome and Florence, the sectional spirit of Italy has placed them in contrast, and has adopted their names as watchwords of local jealousy. In truth, Raffaele's advancement in anatomical accuracy was a necessary consequence of the growing naturalism of his time; and the improvement could not fail to develop the breadth of his pencil, as well as to enlarge the sphere of his compositions. The absolute amelioration of his works, after he settled at Rome, was therefore inevitable from the spirit of the age acting upon a genius not yet matured. That spirit Michael Angelo exaggerated rather than embodied; and to the purer taste of his rival many of his productions must have been beacons rather than models. There is, indeed, some truth, with much malice, in the sarcasm of Pietro Aretino, that the former painted porters, the latter gentlemen. Induced, perhaps, by some such idle sneer, Raffaele executed his Isaiah, to prove that the new manner was not beyond his grasp; but this, his first, and fortunately his last work, in which a direct imitation of the terrible Florentine is discernible, is now the least admired of his mural paintings; and some portion of its Michael Angelesque character has even been attributed to the after-restorations of Daniele di Volterra. The Poetry in the Stanze and the frescoes in the church of La Pace, which he has been supposed to have borrowed from the same source, are traced by more recent critics to works of Andrea l'Ingegno at Perugia and Assisi. After these observations, it is scarcely requisite to notice the remark of Vasari regarding the opportunity stealthily afforded to Raffaele by Bramante for plagiarising from his rival's gigantic creations on the roof of the Cappella Sistina. The casual manner in which the allusion is made does not warrant its being taken up, as it has been, in the light of a charge against the honour both of Sanzio and his friend; and even had it been so intended by the Florentine, various circumstances, besides the high character of those inculpated, are sufficient to negative the charge. If Raffaele followed Buonarroti's manner, it must be admitted that he alone did so without thereby deteriorating his own. Nor ought we to forget that most critics by whom this question is handled have merely repeated the loose views of the biographer of Arezzo, whose great aim it was to prove that the excellences of Sanzio were all borrowed from his Florentine contemporaries.

The parallel which suggests itself between these gifted competitors[*185] has been thus stated with equal eloquence and truth: "The genius of Michael Angelo differed from that of Raffaele even more in kind than in degree; limited in its object, but intense in its energy, it gloried in the exhibition of its own colossal strength, and looked with contempt on those gentler graces that waited unbidden on the pencil of their favourite worshipper. When the rivals approached, it was by no common movement; Michael Angelo stood aloof on the lofty eminence he had chosen; it was Raffaele alone who dared at times to traverse the wide space that divided them. So great were the difficulties, so bold the attempt, that all his success, rapid and wonderful as it was, would have seemed almost necessary to rescue a character less modest and unassuming than his, from the charge of hardihood and presumption. With a noble candour he could scarcely have learned from his haughty antagonist, Raffaele was among the first to see, the most prompt to acknowledge, the new grandeur he had given to art.... Even when he rises to the very confines of sublimity, it is still the sublimity of the beautiful; and when Michael Angelo stoops for a brief space to court the aid of beauty, it serves like a transparent veil to soften rather than conceal the native sublimity of his genius.... Michael Angelo, the painter of the old covenant, has embodied his genius in the stern and gigantic forms of Moses and the Prophets; but he failed where Raffaele has shown as signally his skill, in the gentle dignity of the Saviour and the heavenly purity of a mother's love.... In his paintings, as in his character, there appears an unconsciousness of excellence, a consummation of art carried up to the simplicity of nature, that anticipates criticism, and allows us to indulge undisturbed in a fulness of admiration, which grows on the reason long after it has satisfied the heart. In Michael Angelo's best works there is often, on the contrary, somewhat so strange and so studied in gesture and attitude, so evident a design upon our wonder, as almost to provoke us to resistance, and impair the pure magic of the effect by attracting our attention to the cause."[186]