“Every body ought to write the history of his own life, in order to incite himself continually to mend it, and in order to furnish to posterity something of the present time which may be depended on. On this account, I who have written so many lives, now write a sketch of my own. I was born at Oria, a little town in the Terra di Otranto, in the kingdom of Naples, in 1725. I was the only son of the richest, and noblest family of the hamlet. At nine years old I was taken to Padua, where an uncle of mine, who had been driven from home by some youthful errors, exercised the profession of medicine. There I studied the belles lettres to very little purpose, and after seven years, ran away from Padua, on account of some reproofs received from my uncle, and wandered to Bobbio, near Piacenza, whence I wrote to my parents; and after going to Pavia and Milan, I came to Rome, where my father met me. He conducted me to Naples, and left me to continue my studies at that capital. I studied a little of logic and metaphysics under the celebrated Abate Genovese, and natural philosophy and geometry under Padre Orlandi, a Celestine monk. But I ran away also from Naples, prompted by a desire to see the world, and especially France, but was obliged to turn back again from Leghorn for want of money. I then returned home to Oria, where, after a long continuance of an idle and heedless life, I retired into a country house to study the sciences. At last, at the age of twenty-five, I married a lady of Gallipoli, of a good family and an agreeable disposition; and there I fixed myself, with some application to books, but more to pleasure.
“Having obtained a more comfortable provision from my father, I came with my wife to Rome, and after remaining there a year and a half, returned to Gallipoli for another year, and then fixed myself at Rome. Here I have continued to study, and took a fancy to architecture without being able to draw. Enamoured of this art, which I think the most beautiful, and most useful of all, I wrote the Lives of the most celebrated Architects, which was well received by the public, though the criticisms were severe and the style unpolished.
“After this I translated the article, Bleeding, from the Encyclopædia, and gave a trimming to the physicians and to medicine. Afterwards, I compiled the Elements of pure Mathematics, according to the Abbé de la Caille, for my own improvement, and it was printed at Rome at the instance of some of my friends. I then wrote other works, and shall continue writing as long as I live. A treatise on the stage was much controverted at Rome. When I conceived that I had made some progress in my architectural studies, I wrote with a degree of bravura, the Elements of Civil Architecture, which has been reprinted many times. My Art of seeing in the Fine Arts is a little book which made some noise in the world, and particularly displeased the stupid adorers of Buonarroti. In compliance afterwards with the wishes of a distinguished friend (Cav. Zulian, ambassador of the republic of Venice at Rome), I undertook to write a work to point out the beauties and deformities of ancient and modern Rome; and I published the first part with the title of Roma delle belle Arti del Disegno; but the persecution of ignorant professors rendered it necessary to suspend the second and third. After this work I attached myself to natural history, and wrote a great deal on plants and animals, without printing anything, except the translation of Bowles’s Introduction to the Natural History and Physical Geography of Spain, which was published at Parma. After this, Bailly’s History of Ancient and Modern Astronomy came into my hands, and I made an abridgment of it in one volume in octavo. The Encyclopædia Methodica furnished me with the means of making a Pocket Dictionary of the Fine Arts, published in two volumes. The article, Engraving, in this dictionary, was also printed separately, with some additions. In compliance with the wish of my illustrious friend the Cav. D. Nicola de Azara, I exerted myself considerably in the compilation of the works of Mengs. I have now completed a Dictionary of Domestic Medicine, on the plan of that of W. Buchan, a Scotch physician, which, if printed, will make two volumes in octavo, and will be intelligible to everybody. Another little work on political economy is now in the press; a subject to which I have attached myself, in spite of the unsuitable circumstances of the present times.” Milizia died in March, 1798, of an inflammation in the lungs.
From this rambling compiler, whose attention was directed sometimes one way, and sometimes another, you will perhaps expect nothing but an echo of the opinions of others in a form somewhat different. I know nothing of his other works, but in architecture he is remarkable for the boldness of his original speculations. He seems to have been a man of a powerful understanding, not very patient of labour; confident in himself; not taking up opinions on the faith of another; and never hesitating to expose, and to defend his own. Architecture exactly wanted such a writer. It was in a languid state in Italy, vibrating like politics and religion, between a slavish adherence to rules not understood, and entire license. He who had liberated himself from these arbitrary shackles, considered himself free from all restraint, and never thought of being reasonable, either in his submission or rebellion. Milizia applies reason to every thing, and his fault is in being too reasonable, that is, in endeavouring to found upon reason, certain practices which are only conventional, and which we follow because experience has shewn that they please, without our being able to assign the cause of this pleasure. He writes with spirit, and frequently with a severe sarcastic wit which will insure his being read; and he possesses a singularly happy and forcible mode of expression, to which the Italian language in his hands, seems wonderfully suited: had he written in one of our northern languages, he would have been frequently forced and harsh, and it would be difficult to translate him, and preserve any portion of his spirit, without falling into this defect. Though strongly vindicating his own freedom, he is much inclined to lay down arbitrary rules for others, and even to applaud a despotic exertion of the authority of government in matters of taste; not considering that the true use of rules is to guide, not to govern us; that they are merely the direction posts which mark the road pursued by some of those who have advanced farthest towards the conception of perfect beauty. Other, and even better roads, may possibly exist, but it does not show good sense to be ignorant of what has been proved good, or to desert the known track without well understanding what it is, and what direction it takes, as well as the nature of the country we have to pass over.
I shall proceed to give you some notion of the individual works of this author, taking them in the order in which he mentions them, which is that of their production. The Memorie degli Architetti is preceded by a general view of the principles of the art. He contends that architecture is an imitative art, and he makes its claim to be considered as one of the fine arts, to consist in this imitation. In this he is evidently wrong, as the claim of this, or any other, to a place among the fine arts, depends on its power of exciting mental emotion. He then proceeds to give what he considers as fixed and unalterable rules, which, as they are here given in a condensed form, and are the same which he insists upon in his later works, I shall translate.
“Architecture, like every other fine art, is subject to the following general rules.
1. “In all its productions, we should find an agreeable correspondence of the parts with the whole. This is known by the name of symmetry.
2. “It ought to have variety, lest the spectator’s attention should be wearied; and unity, which is opposed to confusion and disorder. This is comprehended in the term eurithmia.
3. “Convenience, or suitableness, is also a necessary quality. This consists in a just application of symmetry and eurithmia, and of that relation which ought to subsist between an edifice, and the purpose to which it is applied; between the details of ornament, and the general appearance of the building, chusing the most appropriate, and the style which accords best with the magnificence or simplicity of the structure.
4. “If architecture be the daughter of necessity, every beauty which it possesses ought to connect itself with that necessity, and to appear made for some useful purpose. In every art which administers to pleasure, the artifice ought not to be discovered; every thing done for mere ornament is a defect.