“Very well,” replied Caroline, “I will leave you in possession of Canova, and only ask what you think of West—the great West? Belonging to the sect of Quakers, who disapprove of making any representation of the human form, and born in North America, where the arts were not at that time cultivated, he had never seen any sort of drawing; yet while he was a very little boy, being desired to watch a sleeping infant, he was so charmed with its little face and attitude, that he made an excellent sketch of it with a bit of half-burned wood. Was not that, Mary, from the impulse of genius?”
“I see,” said Wentworth, “that Mary does not think herself quite conquered; but as it is going to rain, suppose we adjourn the debate, as papa says, to another day. Caroline shall then have Bertha on her side; I will do my best for Mary, as a true knight is bound to assist the weak; and Frederick shall be the umpire, and adjudge the wreath of victory.”
We all agreed to this plan; and I am sure it will produce a great deal of amusement. My uncle and aunt approve of these good-humoured contests, in which we never lose our temper, and all gain information.
11th.—Our genius conversation of yesterday having been mentioned in the evening at tea, my aunt encouraged us to repeat our arguments, and to defend them by fresh examples; and my uncle so nicely threw himself, sometimes into one scale, and sometimes into the other, that both parties valued themselves on his support. I am rather in doubt which will amuse you most, the anecdotes of various people that he related, or some circumstances in Canova’s life that my aunt afterwards told us: I believe these interested me the most, so I shall begin with them.
“The beautiful country round Passagno, and the refreshing breezes from the Alps, made it a frequent summer residence for the Venetian nobility. Old Pasino Canova, who lived there, was often employed in the repairs or embellishments of their villas, and on these occasions he was accompanied by his grandson. Young Canova thus became known to the senator Falier, who was afterwards his most zealous patron; and an intimacy was formed between him and Giuseppe Falier, the youngest son, which ceased only with Canova’s life.
“The ingenuous disposition of Canova, his animated countenance and his modesty, interested the elder Falier; and he took him, when about twelve years old, under his immediate protection. But it was by a mere accident that his talents were first noticed. At a festival celebrated at the villa of Falier, and attended by many of the Venetian nobility, the domestics had neglected to provide an ornament for the dessert. The omission was not discovered till it was too late; and, fearing the displeasure of their master, they applied to Pasino, who, with his grandson, was then at work in the house.
“The old man could suggest no remedy; but young Antonio desired to have some butter, and in a few moments he modelled a lion, with such skill and effect, that, when it appeared at table, it excited the attention and applause of all present. The servants were questioned—the whole was disclosed, and little Tonin declared to be the contriver. He was immediately called for; and blushing and half reluctant, was led into the brilliant assembly, where he received universal praise and caresses.”
“There is a circumstance strikingly similar to this,” continued my aunt, “which is told of our celebrated sculptor Chantrey, and of which I believe there is no doubt, as I was told it by a person to whom Chantrey, with noble candour, had himself communicated it. When quite a boy, not more than nine or ten, he used frequently to visit his aunt, who was housekeeper to a lady of fortune in Derbyshire. During one of these visits, it was observed that the flowers and ornaments of the pastry at table were executed with particularly good taste; and the housekeeper acknowledged that she had allowed her little nephew to amuse himself in making whatever ornaments he fancied. The lady determined on giving him other opportunities of trying his talents, and finding how very superior they were, she actually sent him to London to receive instruction. With what delight this benevolent and judicious woman must now behold the works of this great artist; and how much she must enjoy the fame which he has so justly acquired!
“The progress which Canova made, and the perfection even of his earliest works, is known to all the world; but perhaps you may not have heard that during his whole life, both while suffering opposition from envious artists, who threw every obstacle in his way, and afterwards when he had attained the highest success, he preserved his unpretending modesty and simplicity. He neither yielded to occasional disappointment, nor to the vanity of shewing that he could surpass his rivals. Improvement was the one great object which he unremittingly pursued, and all his ideas were subjected to rigid examination; he compared them first with nature, and he then flew to the Vatican, where he compared them with the antique.—The result always calmed his solicitude; he returned with fresh confidence to his studio, and in solitude laboured to perfect his style, without either boasting to his friends, or triumphing over his opponents.
“This modest reserve always marked his conduct. To the observations of friends, whether of approbation or criticism, he seldom replied. ‘To praise,’ he used to say, ‘what can I answer?—to the censures of well-wishers I must listen in silence; for if wrong, their feelings would be hurt by telling them so, and if correct, I endeavour to profit by their remarks,’ But it frequently occurred that he reminded his friends of their former criticisms, and candidly pointed out the consequent correction.