“But secondly, there is a peculiarity in the case of architecture which deserves to be specially noticed. It is this:—that the examples required to illustrate the history of architectural construction and decoration lead us at once into the province of practical science and of decorative art; and thus the door is opened to a more extended view of the contents of a National Gallery of Art.” When he told us in the commencement that extensiveness was one of the characteristics of a National Gallery, we never thought of an extensiveness that should have no termination. The opening of this, his one door, shows a wearying vista—but there are so many doors to open to “complete” his scheme, that it is past all comprehension where he will find door-keepers, or the nation means to pay them.
Let us imagine these ten thousand chronological galleries built, and inhabited by all the arts and sciences. Who could preside over such a seraglio of beauties and uglinesses?—who could possibly know anything about one-half of them? We should doubt even Mr Dyce’s powers to interpret their languages, which would be wanted, considering that the object in view is instruction in their history. And yet Mr Dyce, in his scheme of government for the National Gallery, looks to some one “coming man.” “Some officer should be appointed to take charge of all business relating to the National Gallery, to be responsible for the immediate management, and to whom the public should look for the success or failure of the undertaking.” He must be a very wonderful man indeed: if Mr Dyce has any such in his eye, he ought to have named him; for no one besides ever saw a man on earth equal to so much; and if he is to be general instructor too, he would be wondered at, as when
“——still the wonder grew
That one small head should carry all he knew.”
Yet upon the appointment of this one officer Mr Dyce again insists in the conclusion of his letter, and under the idea of his duty embracing sculpture and architecture, as well as painting, under which heads also are included unlimited and undefined æsthetical and practical arts and sciences.
In our former articles on the National Gallery, we advocated the appointment of one responsible person; in what then, it may be asked, do we differ from Mr Dyce? Simply, that we would confine his attention to one thing which he might be able to know—to the collection of pictures. Even if it were thought desirable to place statues under the same building, we would put them under the direction of a person specially acquainted with sculpture.
The interest of the nation has been now awakened with regard to the National Gallery, to the pictures only, to their collection and preservation. A national museum, such as Mr Dyce and others propose, is far too large a subject, to discuss which seriously would be only drawing away the public mind from that which is a pressing necessity. As the system holds at present, we are neither able to buy pictures properly, nor to preserve them when we have them. Mr Dyce’s own experience in the art qualifies him to speak upon this point, and in justice to him we add, that, excepting the times when the chronological mania is upon him, he writes fairly and sensibly; and we willingly add his modicum of assent to the general opinion, upon the matters which the blue-book has brought before the public. Indeed, in this pamphlet he has two styles of writing: the pages might be well thought the work of two hands. Whatever relates to his chronological scheme is redundant, confused, and ambitiously laboured. He does not appear very clearly to know what he has to say. He is, we suppose, in the midst of his theoretic arrangements, as a painter of eminence visited with some misgivings as to the worthless trash the fulfilment of his scheme would introduce. He writes like one under an adopted whim, against his first instincts, with the verbosity of an untutored and awkward advocate. When he knows clearly what he is writing about, he writes like other people.
He successfully exonerates the keepers of the National Gallery, those appointed subsequently to Mr Seguier, from much of the blame that had been cast upon them. He shows that the responsibility had been, for the most part, taken out of their hands, with regard to the purchase of pictures; that the trustees superseded the keepers, and were afterwards themselves superseded by the Treasury as to active operations. The Lords Commissioners of the Treasury, from the nature of their appointment, are sure to be more incompetent than the trustees themselves. It is in evidence that the Lords of the Treasury had no confidence in the trustees; nor, perhaps, much in themselves. Therefore, in 1845, when the trustees recommended the purchase of the Guido from Mr Buchanan, the Treasury do not comply with the request unconditionally—they require Mr Seguier to be consulted as to the condition of the picture; and also “two other eminent judges of the merit and pecuniary value of Italian pictures.” They even point out the individuals for selection: “Mr Woodburn and Mr Farrer might probably be selected with advantage for the purpose, or any others whom Mr Eastlake might consider preferable.” The Lords of the Treasury then preferred the opinion of two dealers in pictures to that of the trustees or Mr Eastlake; the latter being more competent than all the others put together to decide upon the subject. The only surprising thing is, that the trustees, upon this slight put upon them, did not resign their appointments, which, if honourable in other respects, were now marked with the character of incompetency. We have already strongly insisted that picture-dealers should in no case be consulted. They are too much interested, and wish to keep up the value (artificial) of pictures; and the world knows too well the nature of their trafficking, to place implicit confidence in their decisions. We say not that a judicious choice might not be made of skilful and honourable men; but looking to all times, and with some knowledge of the temptations of trade, we should be sorry to see the practice of consulting dealers become a habit or a rule. Take the case which has occurred—the Treasury nominate judges; at a subsequent meeting of the trustees these very judges have pictures to be recommended—are other trading judges to be called in? In that case decisions will have to go the round of these dealer judges. They will either be shy of pronouncing against the interests of each other, or be under the temptation to give each other a good turn, or, at any rate, keep up the market, which they themselves supply. The public have of late been let a little too much into the secrets of picture trafficking, and of picture manufacturing. Is there truth in the exposure that an overbaked would-be Raffaelle was spoiled for that master, but would make an admirable Correggio? With all the respect we owe to individuals, we confess that there is a strong resemblance between picture-dealing and horse-dealing. The habit of appointing dealers as judges would certainly end in a council of dealers, who would, in actual operation, supersede all others. The fiat of the Treasury transferred to the fiat of Wardour Street. We are glad to quote Mr Dyce on this subject:—“This, then, is the present state of matters. The right to entertain a proposal to purchase any picture rests with the trustees; the ultimate opinion of its merits, on which the purchase depends, is not theirs, but that of certain ‘eminent judges’ of such points. The trustees decide what may be and shall be purchased, if it be worth purchasing; the eminent judges decide whether it be worth purchasing, and worth the money asked for it. It may be said that this is an extreme and exaggerated case; that the Treasury, though reposing confidence in the recommendation of the trustees, might nevertheless think it desirable, on several accounts, to have this recommendation fortified by the opinions of eminent judges. True: but as it cannot be supposed that the trustees would press a recommendation, in any case, in the face of an adverse opinion given by the judges they had summoned to their assistance—in other words, since they cannot make a recommendation at all without both summoning such assistance, and obtaining a favourable opinion—it is perfectly clear that the favourableness of opinion they have obtained, not their concurrence in it, must be looked upon by the Treasury as the real warrant for adopting their recommendation. Nor, on the other hand, is it refining too much to say that the ex officio trusteeship of the heads of the financial department of the Government, not only annihilates the responsibility of the trustees, but prevents the due exercise of the control which that department ought to have over their proceedings.”... “If the trustees were to be superseded in a matter of such importance, they surely ought to have been consulted, not only as to the manner in which they might, with the greatest advantage, avail themselves of professional assistance, but as to the class of persons who were to afford it. But no discretion was left to them; and who, let me ask, were the ‘eminent judges’ fixed upon by the Treasury? Will it be believed that not only the class of persons, but the very individuals chosen to give an opinion, on which the purchase of pictures was to depend, were those who were in the habit of offering, and actually at the time were offering pictures to the trustees for sale? At the very meeting (held February 2, 1846) at which the communication from the Treasury was read, I find the trustees considering a proposal for the sale of a collection of pictures by Mr Woodburn, one of the judges nominated by the Treasury. At the next meeting (held March 2, 1846), I find that “the trustees again took into consideration the offer of a picture, by Spagnoletti, for sale by Mr Farrer,” the other “eminent judge” recommended by the Treasury. So that, in fact, the “eminent judges” were by turns competitors for the patronage of the trustees, and by turns sat in judgment on one another’s wares.”
Constitutions grow—they are not made. We never knew one from any manufactory, paper-made, that could hold together; yet we go on with the conceit that we have consummate skill in that line; we make ourselves, as it were, sole patentees for all people and nations, and wonder at the folly of those who reject the commodity, and yet we never attempt the thing on a small scale at home, or a large one abroad, but the result is a failure. The School of Design is a parallel case with the National Gallery. The committee of management of that school was in the same relation with the Board of Trade as the National Gallery with the Treasury. The action of the body was stopped if no official representative of the Board of Trade was present; and if present, the council felt themselves to be a nullity. Yet the council could not at once be easily dismissed, for the Parliamentary grant was voted for the council of the School of Design. In 1842, therefore, this constitution is remodelled. The School is put “under the management of a director and of a council, subject to the control of the Board of Trade.” But here again is a failure. The council and director cannot arrange responsibilities. The director resigns, another succeeds: as before, there is no working together. The constitution has to be remodelled again. The Board of Trade takes the management, assisted by the artist members of the old council. This fails also; and at last that is done which should have been done at the beginning—an officer is appointed, “under the authority of the Board of Trade, to superintend and be responsible for the business of the schools.”
In our democratic tendencies we are jealous of one responsible director; and, on the other hand, with our aristocratic tastes and habits, we devolve upon men of rank and wealth, solely on account of their rank and wealth, duties which they are not qualified to perform (and, we think, the greater honour would consist in their declining such positions), and which, if in other respects qualified to perform, they will not, simply because it is not their distinct personal business, and of a paid responsibility. And thus it is that the really qualified persons, eminent for their knowledge in art, science, and habits of business, are ever excluded. Can we be surprised if there be perpetual failures?