19. Adoration of the Magi, No. 3.
20. Adoration of the Shepherds.
21. The coming of the Holy Ghost.
(One has been destroyed.)
22. The Descent into Limbo.
Of seven of these, viz. of the 2nd, 6th, 8th, 10th, 11th, 12th, and 13th, you know that we have the cartoons in England, and one cartoon is worth all the tapestry.
We pass from these rooms, four in number, to those called the Camere of Raphael, ornamented with some of his most admired productions. It excites some surprise, to find that so much labour and genius have been lavished on three gloomy, irregular rooms, unconnected with any principal apartment, each lighted indeed by a single window, but that window below, instead of, as ought to be the case, above the principal part of the paintings. The paintings themselves indeed are most admirable; not so much at first view, as when you attend to them leisurely, and consider the action and intention of the several figures; and the more you study, the more you admire and enjoy. These are not things to stare at, and to leave, satisfied with a passing tribute of admiration. We enter into them, we seem almost in society with the saints and sages represented, and we return to them again and again with delight, as to a fine poem. It is melancholy to see how much they have suffered, not from neglect, but from time, and the decay of the material. The rage for fresco-painting, or rather for admiring it, and regret that it is disused, seems to start up from time to time even in our northern climates. It is therefore necessary to repeat again and again, that even in Italy, fresco-painting rapidly decays, and that in a climate such as ours, the value of its finest productions, if painted on the walls of a room, could hardly, by any care, be made to last a century. Pieces cut out and hung in frames might last longer.
The fourth room is larger than the others. It was painted after the death of Raphael, by his scholars, and from his designs. It is remarkable however, that he finished two or three figures in oil, which shine among the rest by the superiority of the material as well as of the drawing; the remainder being executed in fresco.
On leaving these chambers, we pass through the famous loggie, where Raphael exhibited the versatility of his mind by the most beautiful coloured ornaments on the architecture, interspersed with little paintings. The designs were his; the execution was that of his scholars. Their situation was at first an open gallery, but as they were considerably injured by exposure to the weather, it has been enclosed. These productions have suffered, as may be supposed, more than those in the chambers. Just enough remains to give some vague notion of the grace and elegance of the ornament, and to make us regret that we have no more. It is much more practicable no doubt to restore these than the historical painting, but something will be lost in delicacy of curve, and in the harmony of colouring, even in a case apparently so little difficult.
In the rooms immediately below those of Raphael, are now placed those first-rate productions of painting, which, having been transported to Paris, are in consequence of the late peace restored to Rome. Instead of giving you any description, or even an account of what they are, (though the Transfiguration is among them) and adding an Oh! and an Ah! and a note of admiration to each, I will tell how I proceed in examining pictures; a method, which if not perfectly scientific, has at least the effect of enhancing both their interest and the amusement derived from them, and by leading the attention to the several particulars, one by one, must, I think, improve the judgment. You know I set out in architecture, with a determination not to be satisfied with seeing and admiring what is beautiful, but to endeavour in each object to trace why it pleases, what are its defects, and how they might be avoided, and a still higher degree of excellence attained. To analyse paintings something in the same way, I consider that a picture may please—