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68412

DICTIONARY

PRINCIPLES And terms of art.

ADOPTED IN

€;!)e Sirtis uf Design^

THEIR VARIOUS BRANCHES*

Academy is an institution for the readier instruction of
students in the principles and various branches of art. This
seems to have been its original designation ; for as many of
the principles of art require the elucidation of a liberal mind,
luid extensive knowledge, it became necessary that these
should be communicated by proficients in technical studies.
Hence an Academy is now a considerable institution ; and
should comprise, (i.j a number of teachers, each excellent
in his department, whose lessons may direct the student;
and (2.) conveniencies for accommodating the studies of
those who are desirous of applying to practice the lessons
taught.

Almost all the metropolitan cities of Europe (and some
of the second rate) have now academies; at Rome, almost
each nation has its appropriate academy.

DiCT. Edit. 'j» 3 lu

SMU LIBRARY

t A C A

In London there have been for many years academical In-
stitutions, in vvhich living models have been selected for the
study of the naked ; originally in a more confined manner,
at the academy in St. Martin's Lane j afterwards, when the
Royal Incorporated Society of Artists of Great Britain ob-
tained his Majesty's charter, they had a more considerable
academy, and some public lectures : to these succeeded the
Royal Academy.

The principal studies in an academy usually are, Design,
which is practised first from plaster models, casts irom the
best antiques, &c. which is generally the first school : and
after the student has acquired a facility in treating these sub-
jects, the living model is his next study.

Anatomy, in its relation to art, is usually taught by some
eminent surgeon.

The other professors, such as of architecture, painting,
sculpture, &c. are commonly members of the academy,
and deliver lectures in their turns.

The ^OYAL Academy of London consists of fort)' aca-
demicians, painters, sculptors, or architects ; twenty asso-
ciates ; and six associate engravers, who are incapable of
offices, and of voting.

The Officers are a president, council, consisting of
eight members, four of whom go out by rotation, yearly;
and vvho at each meeting receive two pounds five shillings,
equally divided among them, or are fined for non-attendance.
The whole body of the academicians meet once a year, to
adjudge premiums, &c. and each receives five shillings for
his attendance. There is also a secretary, who has apart-
menta in Somerset House, and a salary of 60/. per annum ; a
keeper, who has apartments, and a salary of 100/ per annum,
who superintends the aca.lemy ; a treasurer, salary 60/. per
annum; libruri^in, salary 50/. Jjcsidc these, nine visitors

arc

;iA>ia!..; Ll^::^

A C A $

are elected from among the academicians, who, in rotation,
attend the acadetny, set the model, and instruct the students.
Each has los. bd per night, for his attendance.

The professors are four : the professor of painting, the
professor of architecture, the professor of perspective, and the
professor of anatomy ; each of whom dehvers annually six
lectures, and receives a salary of 30/.

The academy for design is held in summer at five o'clock
in the evening, in winti r at six o'clock.

The library is open one day in every week (Monday),

The funds of the academy consist of the monies received,
at the annual exhibition; and the surplus, after expenses are
defrayed, is annually vested in the public stocks. These funds
are open to various calls for charitable purposes, such as
tjonations to decayed academicians, and their widows.

Premiums of gold and silver medals are distributed to
those students who excel : as, for the best picture in oil
colours, the gold medal ; another for the best has relief '^
another for the best design in architecture. Silver medals
are given for the best drawings from the living model in the
academy.

The keeper of the academy admits students, but their
admission must be confirmed by the council within a year.
When a student offers himself for admission, he must shew
a specimen of his abilities to the keeper.

The keeper, visitor, and secretary, preserve: order and de-
corum, or reprimand and rusticate students who misbehave.

Students who have gained the gold medal, may be candi-
dates for the journey to Italy, where three years are allowed,
at a pension of 100/. per annum,

The antique academy consists of plaster casts, &c. from
the most esteemed studies, one of which is set out weekly,

B a to

4 A C C

to be drawn from ; the hours are in the morning from
eleven o'clock to two.

The living model sits three nights, two hours each time,
in the evening.

No copies are allowed to be exhibited. All exhibitors
have free admission to the exhibition, and it is usual for the
exhibitors to dine together once a year at the expense of
the institution.

To such an institution there should also be a professor of
antiquity, who should explain the ancient mythology, reli-
gious ceremonies, civil ceremonies, habits military and civil,
&c. &c. It is remarkable that the errors of young artists
on these subjects, are not only numerous but gross; because
not all of them have enjoyed the advantage of a liberal edu-
cation, and yet these subjects are those most frequently
treated by the chisel and the pencil.

Academy Figui:e is a study made from the life at a pub-
lic school. In setting an academy figure, care should be
taken that the attitude be natural, and that it expose the
noblest parts, Sec. In drawing an academy figure, care
should be taken not only that it be correct in proportion, but
also in effect : and that accidental particularities be not ex-
alted to general principles.

ACCESSORIES are certain secondary and inferior intro-
ductions into the composition of a picture : in many in-
stances, they are like an episode in poetry, and relieve the
attention of the spectator ; in others they are explanatory
and illustrative, which, indeed, is their proper character.
Sometimes they are merely of service as contributing to ge-
neral effect, or harmony, without other importance.

ACCIDENTS. This term is used chiefly in relation to
light and shadow : for instance, when from among a great
body of dark clouds the rays of the sun break forth, and en-
lighten

ADO 5

lighten certain objects, this light is said to be accidental ;
and the parts or objects enlightened by it are said to be en-
lightened by accidental light. The same expression is applied
to light which breaks out unexpectedly, as it were, whether
from a torch or lamp, &c. and strikes on objects distant
from the main body of light. Accidental lights ought never
to oppose the principal light, but to support it, to harmo-
nize with it, and thereby to subserve the general effect of
the piece : when thus mildly introduced they often produce
ITiost delightful effects,

ACTION is not only understood of a determinate atti-
tude of a figure, but also of a correspondent expression of
every part of that attitude: thus the action of the hand, of
the hg, &c. must agree, and relate to the general senti-
ment of the figure. Action should always be natural, and,
if possible, graceful : it is intimately connected with charac-
ter and expression.

Action may also be taken in another sense, as the subject
of a picture. Language is the action of poetry, which is
incapable of pourtraying forms : action is the language of
painting, which is incapable of pronouncing words. The
Only fit subject for picture, therefore, is, that where some de-
terminate and expressive action affords scope for the powers
of art.

ADHERENT, that which is joined to, or attached to,
some thing, or body. Draperies should not adhere to the
figure which they surround, in a picture : and this kind of
adherence in sculpture, is rather tolerated than advised : it is
the least of two evils, therefore is so far to be chosen, but
even in sculpture its excess is unpleasant.

In Design the adherence of draperies, &c. is hard, mea-
gre, and poor.

ADORATION, A name given to a picture representing

the

6 A D V

the I^fagi, or wise men of the East, worshipping the infant
Jesus. Our notions of the persons and circumstances of
this visit are derived from supposititious authority, and
many errors are tolerated in pictures of this subject : such
as the Magi being kings, &c.

ADVANClNG,inpainting,is that effect whereby the idea
of interval, and distance, is presented to the spectator. As it
is impossible for any part of a picture to project, or to seem to
project, before the canvas on which it is painted ; therefore
the efficient cause of advancing must be sought in its cotl-
rrzry, recession; and it will always be found, that according
to the accuracy and certainty with which any part recedes^
its opponent will advance.

The vigorous touches of a spirited pencil, and a just ap-
plication of colours, contribute to advancing, or to bring
forward objects in general. White advances objects, accord-
ing as it is opposed to dark colours, shadows, &c. without
which opposition it rather contributes to distance.

White may maintain itself on the front of a picture, and
T)c employed pure : but it has been hesitated, whether it
may maintain itself in distances, the light being supposed
common. Du Fresnoy concludes in the affirmative, be-
cause it is the nearest approach to light ; and thus Titian,
Paul Vkronkse, and others, who have best understood
light, have regarded it; and in landscapes it is generally
so employed.

Jilack brings forward all objects to which It is applied : by
a happy contrast of white and black, the most agreeable
effects are obtained.

If, for example, it were required to paint a u'hite horse,
on the front of a picture, it would be necessary, in order
to determine the station of this object, to contrast it — either
with a darkish back-ground, or darkish harness, or a rider,

whose

ALL 7

whose dress might be of a colour either darkish, or at least
sensible, and firm.

When black is employed to advance an object, the ut-
most care should be taken that it docs not make spots, or
holes, but that it harmonizes with tlie general masses.

AfclRIAL Objects arc those which by their lightness
seem suspended in the air, or to have a relation to that ele-
ment. To this effect, light colours, light drapery, as it were
transparent, and easily agitated, very greatly contribute.
- Aerial Perspective, although usually applied to the
effect of such distances as permit the air to discolour them,
yet is more or less operative on every object, and in every
part of a composition. Its principles have been discussed
in the Lectures.

AIR is taken in one sense the same as aerial.

AIR is used to express the peculiar turn of the attitude
of a figure, or of a part. An air is light, or heavy, graceful
or awkward, &c. In heads this is of great moment: the air
of a portrait should be characteristic, and genteel, if pos-
sible. Not all painters succeed in the airs of their heads ;
but are apt to repeat themselves, and become mannerists.
In historic composition, Rai^haelle has the noblest airs of
his heads.

ALLfclGORY is useful on many occasions : it consists
in selecting and applying (according to poetic license, vet
not without the regulation of propriety and decorum) sym-
bolical objects, or personages, whose relation to the main
import of the piece ought to be clear and unembarrassed.
Thus, in allegory, many persons and particulars may be in-
troduced or hinted at, whose real appearances would be
reprovable.

Allegorical, or Symbolical, fi<rurcs belon<i to Icono-

LOGY.

ALTO

8 A M A

ALTO RELIEVO is that kind of sculpture, wherein,
though the figures are attached to a plane back ground,
yet they project very considerably from it; they stand out,
as it were, almost clear, though held by the back ground
for their security. See Basso Relievo.

AMATEUR is a French term, for which we have no re-
gular equivalent in English : it is taken to signify a person,
who, though no professed artist himself, yet joins to a love
for the arts, sufficient taste and knowledge to encourage and
patronize them, by collecting their productions, and by ju-
dicious animadversion on their merits.

A person may possess a love for the arts, and a sense of
their excellencies, without any very profound knowledge:
but when knowledge is happily united to such inclination,
it renders the opinion and judgment of its possessor very
estimable and important.

There is nothing of greater consetjuence to art, than that
those who favour it, should rightly discern its merits; since,
by their judicious cultivation, valuable plants may be
brought to maturity ; or, by their caprice, the most noxious
weeds may overspread the soil. Next to their personal
judgment, artists are beholden to the patrons of art for
those inestimable collections they assemble ; where, besides
the entcrtainiuent of seeing together the performances of dif-
ferent ages, masters, and countries, the improvement they
aftbrd to a student is obvious and extensive.

It must, however, be acknowledged, that, from some un-
fortunate cause, the collections of English amateurs arc not
of that use they might be; since access to them is sur-
rounded with obstacles : so that although there is, perhaps,
no nation which possesses more valuable treasures, they are
not equally useful to the arts, as many foreign cabinets. Nor
IS there any good considerable public collection of per-

4 formances/

ANA *9

formances, to which the student may resort, for correcting
or improving his manner and taste. In this respect, we
must acknowledge the continental amateurs greatly excel
US5 for, among them, to desire the sight of a celebrated ca-
binet, is taken as an acknowledgment of its merit, and an
honourable compliment paid to the taste of the ow^ner.

AMFHIPROSTYLE, /. c. double Prostyle, or having
pillars in both frontsj according to Vitruvius, the third order
of temples.

AMPHITHEATRE, a place for exhibiting shows ; very
spacious, of a round or oval figure, with many seats rising
on every side. The area in the middle was called arena, be-
cause it was covered with safjd, or sawdust, to diminish its
sllpperiness, and to absorb blood. It was also called cavea,
because surrounded by the caves, or dens, in which the wild
beasts were kept, with which the combatants fought. The
arena was surrounded by a wall called podhari, twelve or
fifteen feet high, on the top of which a parapet projected,
for the safety of the spectators. The seats were distributed
the same as in a theatre. The entrances to the seats were
called vomitoria, the passages by which to ascend to the seats
scalip, or scalaria, and the seats between two passages,
from their wedgelike form, were called cuneus. These, as
well as theatres, were originally only temporary, and of
wood ; many were afterwards built of stone. Rome had se-
veral ; the principal was that built by Titus, called the
Coliseum, which was large enough to contain eighty-seven
thousand persons. We have given a view of its remains.

ANAMORPHOSIS is a subject drawn, or painted, ac-
cording to the strict rules of optics, and perspective, which
appears of its proper form, &c. seen from that point for
which it is constructed, and from that point only: from all
other points it appears confused and unintelligible. Sub-

DiCT. Edit. 7. c jects

le A N I

jects thus treated are instances of the power of optics, and
are curious, but useless : for it seems more desirable to re-
gulate, and to put in order what is confused, than to con-
fuse what should properly be regular and orderly.

ANATOMY may be taken, in design, for the knowledge
of the external appearances of the human frame, in its vari-
ous attitudes and positions : also, for the same knowledge in
the appearances of animals, &c.

This science is indispensable to art, which, without it,
would be not only uncertain, but often false, contradictory,
and insipid. It comprehends not only a knowledge of the
origin and insertion of the muscles of the body, but also of
their actions in various motions of the figure, and their effects
of light and shade, &c. Correct anatomy is of great con-
sequence) for although every spectator cannot discover
wherein anatomical errors consist, yet most can perceive a
something, which being unusual, is also unpleasant.

ANIMATED is spoken of objects which approach, in
their appearance, to the nearest and most perfect resem-
blance of nature, supposed in the same circumstances.

A portrait is animated, when a spectator might almost
mistake it for real life : a figure is animated when it closely
resembles the very movement of a living figure, in such a
situation j and a groupe of figures is animated, when the
whole seemSj as it were, alert and lively.

Animation depends much on correction of design, on
vivacity of colouring, and on proper support by the back
ground, and other accompaniments in a picturej in a statue,
on the vigour and verlsiniility of expression.

Those painters who have too closely copied the antique,
have seldom given e\traordinary animation to their figures :
the leading ideas of statues being rather repose and grace,
than vigorous and energetic motion. The ancient figures

are

ANT ir

are usually calm and composed, and their outlines rather
gliding and smooth, than sharp and determinate, which is
required by animation. Animation in nature is but mo-
mentary, and therefore requires diligent inspection to discern
and catch it.

ANNULET, a small square moulding, which serves to
CTOwn or accompany a larger, and to separate the flutings in
columns.

ANTIPATHY is used to express the opposition between
certain colours : from which opposition, as from dissonance
in music, arises the majority of agreeable effects. The con-
trol of this antipathy, the softening and regulating it, or the
giving it full force and effect, is among the distinguished to-
kens of a master. Let it in general be observed, that as
any one object in a picture is heightened, the others are cor-
respondently depressed ', or, as others are depressed, some
particular object is heightened. To determine which should
give place, and which should take It, is the province of
judgment. A colour is said to have an antipathy against
another, if, when compounded together, the mixture is of a
disagreeable oflfensive hue : if a third colour thus produced
is bad, the two original colours are not good, and softness of
effect is not to be expected from their being neighbours.

ANTIQUE is a term usually applied to all the produc-
tions of architecture, painting, and sculpture, during the best
times of art in Greece and Rome : which may be permitted
to comprehend from the time of Alexander the Great, to
that of the Emperor Phocas; in whose reign the Goths ra-
vaged Italy, and destroyed the noblest works of genius of
former ages. Not that during the above period the arts
were equally excellent, yet they possessed much merit, espe-
cially compared with succeeding times. The French (vide
Feliblen) have made, at least formerly, a distinction between

c Z ancient

SMU LIBRARY

ANT

ancleut figures^ calling them antiques i and ancient build.-,
ings, calling them antiquities.

The antique is regarded as a model and rule for the de-
signer and the sculptor ; and it must be confessed, the purity
and grace of the antique, in respect of form, is unrivalled j
the ancient artists paying to these principles their chief at-
tention, and possessing advantages for their perfection^
which we do not enjoy. Italy is now the grand school of
ancient art: it is resorted to by numbers of young artists,
who wish to perfect their studies j and of gentlemen, whose
curiosity leads them to inspect such subjects. Not that
every piece of antiquity is valuable for its merit, or at least
for merit surpassing modern art ; although we confess the
capital instances of ancient skill must ever be placed in the
highest rank of excellence.

As to determining what is, or is not antique, it is now
no easy matter, since the imitations are, perhaps, as nu-
merous as the originals. Michael Angelo Buonarqtti,
desirous of c'eceiving certain connoisseurs, made a statue in
imitation of ihe antique, whicli he broke in a certain part,
and having buried it where he knew they would dig, all who
beheld it when found, judged it antique; till they were
undeceived by its author, who confirmed his right to it by
producing the broken fragment.

The sentiments of so great a master as Rubens, on the
study of the antique, cannot fail of being acceptable to our
readers; we shall therefore offer them a translation of his
Essay De Imitallone Slaiuurum. The original was pub-
lished by Mons. Y)\j Piles, who possessed the MS.

" To some [painters] the inutation of the antique statues
is extremely useful; to oihers dangerous, even to the ruin
of their art. 1 conclude, nevertheless, that for the per-
fection of painting, an intelligence, and even deep relish of

the

ANT 13

the antiques, Is necessary ; but their application ought to
be judicious, and divested of every peculiarity of the marble.
Many unlearned, and even some learned artists, do not
distinguish the form from the material, the stone from the
figure, nor the difficulty the sculptor labours under in treat-
ing marble.

" It is a principle readily granted, that the best statues
are very useful, as the bad are not only useless, but also
hurtful. Young artists sometimes imagine themselves irti-
provcd, \\hen they have gathered from them, I know not
what, of the crude, rugged, difficult, and thorny in ana-
tomy : but the coloured marble they represent instead of
flesh, is a scandal to nature. There are many accidents to
be remarked and avoided, even in the best statues : not in-
deed the fault of the master, but arising from the difTerence
of their shadows ; seeing that in real life the flesh, the skin,
the cartilages, by a kind of transparency, very much softeii
the demi-tints and shadows, which the stone by its density
blackens, and thereby seems yet more opake than it really
is. Add to this, that in nature there are certain parts which
vary with every motion, and which, by the suppleness of
the skin, arc either smooth, or contracted and wrinkled.
These sculptors generally avoid, but the best sculptors
admit them ; and in painting, moderately used, they arc
necessary.

*' The lights also on the marble differ from those which
are seen on flesh ; the shining of the marble, and the
sharpness of the light, heightening the superficies more
than it really isj or deceiving the eye by its rapid declina-
tions.

^' The artist, who, by a wise discretion, guards against
these evils, may fully study the antique statues : for in our

erroneous

14 ANT

erroneous and degenerate age, our low genius keeps us back
from that success which has attended the ingenuity, judg-
ment, and heroism of the ancients. Either the clouds of
former acjes surround us; or not having retrieved former
errors, it pleases God to suffer us to proceed from bad to
worse; or whether, to their irreparable damage, our minds
are enfeebled as the world grows old ; or whether, in these-
latter ages, natural objects are degenerated from what they
were when nearer to their origin, and do not now offer those
beauties they formerly did. Perfection of form and stature,
anciently combined, has perhaps, in the lapse of ages, been
gradually divided and dissipated, by the corruption attend-
ttnt on increasing vice. This idea seems supported by the
accounts given us by ancient authors, as well sacred as pro-
fane, of the heroes, giants, and cyclops ; and although
they herein relate many fables, yet, without doubt, they
also relate many truths.

'' The principal causes wherefore the men of our times
differ from those of antiquity, are indolence, and living
v.ithout exercise ; for many only exercise their bodies in
feasting and drinking ; therefore, having always a loaded
stomach, always replete with gluttony, their legs become
enervated, and their arms reproach each other with idle-
ness. On the contrary, the ancients universvilly practised
their exercises daily in their academies and wrestling-schools,
and that with a violence of exertion, even to sweating and
extreme fatigue.

" See in Mercurialis De Arte Gymnasticay to what va-
rious kinds of labour, how difficult and how vigorous,
they were accustomed. In fact, they were well adapted to
consume the too soft and indolent particles; corpulency
was prevented ; and instead of becoming fat, the parts be-
came

A Q U 15

came fleshy : for whatever in the human body Is constantly
in exercise, as the arms, the legs, the neck, the shoulders,
and whatever parts are active, are assisted by nature, and
draw by their heat a nutriment, which vastly increases and
strengthens them, as we see in the backs of porters, the
arms of boxers, the legs of dancers, and almost the whole
bodies of rowers."

Such was the opinion of Rubens j which, perhaps, at-
tributes too much to the personal forms of antiquity, and
too little to that indefatigable industry and research, which
discovered and selected the most agreeable and characteristic
forms, from among the porters, rowers, and dancers of
those days ; and which, perhaps, in the present times,
might succeed not less happily in the same course of study,
if attended by the same perseverance and judgment.

*^* The remarks on the lights and shadows of the mar-
bles, are equally just and applicable, in relation to plaster
figures ; and ous^ht never to be out of the student's mind
and observation.

AQUA-FOKTISproq/>, or Etching p70o/>, are impres-
sions taken off copper plates, immediately after their biting
is concluded. Their use is, to discover the real effect the
aqua-fortis has had on the plate, in order to apply what
further workmanship is requisite. It is common to consider
aqua-fortis proofs as so many studies of the master, and they
often are very valuable. Plates executed by painters, aie
seldom any thing further advanced than by the aqua-fortis ;
and herein they discover the master's hand.

AQUEDUCT, an artificial canal, built for the con-
veyance of water from one place to another, either running
under ground, or rising above it. The Romans built very
magnificent aquseducts, some of v/hich passing through

tocks

i6 ARC

rocks and mountains, and over vallies, brought water to
Rome, from the distance of sixty miles ; their height in
some places more than one hundred and nine feet ; raised
on two or three tiers of arches. The water brought to the
(CastellumJ principal reservoir in the city, was copiously
distributed to all parts by pipes. Frontinus has left a trea-
tise on the subject, wherein are descrilied nine Aquaeducts ;
others were afterwards added. The New River at London
is an Aquaeduct, but of a different kind. For remains of
Roman Aquieducts vide plate. Temple of Faunus.

AR^OSTYLE, according to Vitruvius, the fourth method
of intercolumniation, to which four diameters are allowed
between each column. See plate xxviii.p. 76. Architec-
ture.

ARCHITRAVE, the lowest principal member of an en-
tablature, lying immediately upon the abacus of the capital.
See plates xxiii. xxiv. p. 68. Architecture.

ARCHITECTURE is a science, some of whose prin-
ciples we have elsewhere considered. It requires an union
of many very valuable studies to make an expert practical
Architect: geometry, accuracy in calculation, know-
ledge in the value, and employment of Materials, the mul-
tiplied manners of preparing them, the proportion, and
propriety of their uses, judgment to know when they are
well used, and foresight to determine their probable effect :
taste to form such ornamental erections as may be required
for state, and contrivance to compose such as shall be con-
venient and domestic, 8cc. Sec.

Architectural DESIGNS are allowed many liberties,
which though contrary to the strictness of truth, yet in this
science must be admitted : such as geometrical elevations,
and plans, void of perspective, since, otherwise, accurate

4 measures

ATT 17

measures could not be adapled. Mbreover, to render sen-
sible the recessions of distances, though but sniall, a tint of
colour somewhat stronger than nature would justify, is
pardonable, if it be not extrt.nie.' Also an architectural
drawing may shew a ge6nictricaj plan, elevation and section, •
together with parts of the same in perspective, where no
invincible obstacles forbid. These, and whatever other
liberties contribute to a good understanding of the design,
are tolerated ni architecture, though not justified by strict
perspective.

ARTICULATION is an anatomical term adopted in
painting, which expresses the representation of those parts
where the joints, -and insertions of the bones into each other,
are most apparent : this article is of the greatest consequence
to correctness ; as an error here affects the whole limb.

ARTIST-LIKE is applied to subjects treated with spirit,
skill, and propriety, in a masterly manner and style.

ATTITUDE ; the general action of a figure : the posture
chosen by the artist for his figure. The effect of attitude
depends on design. The ancients studied deeply whatever
might contribute to the elegance of attitude; and herein,
they arc in many respects our preceptors.

Attitudes should be natural: such as the human body Is
not only capable of [i. e. such as it possibly could produce,
as in posture-masters and :-tage-tumblers, dancers. Sec),
but such as without constraint it chooses, and, as it were,
enjoys. Walking, for instance, varies as it is quicker or
slower ; and the movement is in both these cases easy and
natural : but although it is possible for a pcrsoii^to walk on
tip-toe, yet, unless such an attitude be necessary as con-
tributing to cxpreFsion, it is reprehensible in a figure
walking.

DicT. Edit. 7. i.> Attitude

i8 ATT

Attitude should also be characteristic^ since many atti-
tades are contracted through personal b.abit: and expressive,
since ptherw ise it is unintelligible.

Attitude should be simpk: sudden breaks in the general
!i«es of a figure, injure attitude. There are in nature an
'.Atniite variety t)f attitudes, to perform the same thing.
A figMrc seert on its different sides, forms almost so many
different attitudes : but not all <?qually good, because in
some there must be an inferiority of parts, and an interrup-
tion of the principal sway of the figure.

Contrast assists attitude ? in the attitudes of a irroupe of
figures, contrast is indispensable. The antagonist muscles
of the body impart a contrast, one scries being in exertion
while the other is at re^t, and so on alternately, as it were,
double sets of springs relieving each other.

Attitude should not be tame, insipid, lifeless, and inert;
nor yet swaggering and pompous : but decorous, animated,
and graceful.

The attitudes of models should not be too closely de-
pended on. Nature is the general and only adequate guide
on the subject of attitude.

By way of explaining these ideas we have accompanied
this subject with a plate or two.

riate I. Contains four different views of the celebrated
anti(jue statue of AwTiNOUS. It appears from these instances
that the attitude of a figure so greatly varies to a spectator
according to the situation from whence he inspects it, that
it may be considered as scarcely the same. The first and
second of these sketches are somewhat alike, but the first
and last are unlike, and would not without previous inform-
ation be taken for the same figure. Tins remark enforces the
necesi-itv, not only of a good attitude to a figur<^, but also

Clf

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A T T ~ X9

of a good view of that altitude, since the principal lin*3
of a figure, and those whereon its grace depends, are not
equally vi'iibic on every side, but are in some views obscured
and concealed.

Plate_II. The two upper figures of this pLitc arc views
of the AroLLO Pythias, and confirm the principles of
plate I. The difl'ercnt view of the njembers, their diflerenl
fore-shortenings, Sec. merit notice.

The two lower figures arc opposite views of a LeDA ;
and shew that diversity of situation has by no means less
force on a drapery figure than on the naked, as drapery,
by its bulk, is apt to conceal as svell the leading ideas of
a figure, as smaller objects.

Plate III, No. I, 2, are two peasants listening to a story;
one pokes forward his head, hugs himself with his arms,
and bends his rems, resting equally on both feet ; the other,
jlso a peasant, yet not quite so boorish, stands more up-
right, and is less offensive in his attitude.

No. 3. Is a woman listening, whose awkward air ex-
presses rusticity and low life.

No, 4. Is a lady also listenin.g, w hose attitude, erect but
not stift'j is contrasted by the former, and shews the effect
of education.

Plate IV. In this figure arc displayed the prirvciples of
VARIETY in attitude, as imparting graceful sway, easy mo-
tion, and contrast in the inclining poise of the body.
Thus when the face is fronting, the body is turned some-
what sideways, and the legs fronting, Sec. also when one
shoulder ris??, \h.e other sinks ; the hips, knees, and feet,
the same ; as in this figure, 1. shews the motion of the
head; 2. the rising of one shoulder; 3, the rising of the
opposite hip; 4. the rising of the contrary knee, Jkc. by a

D 2 kind

20 B A L

kind of alternation. If this figure were viewed sidewnvs,
it would appear that the same principle attended it . what-
ever part projects, a corres^pondent part retfres.

AUIILOLUS, Nimbus, or Glory, a kind cf m-'iant
crown given to Saints, &c. by painters, much more c(.m-
morily ftirmeriy, than of late. The use of this? .emblem i?
very ancient, being employed in early ages by the heathen
to distinguish their divinities.

JlSALANCE : a piece whose forms, lights and shades,
colours and expressions, arc happily adapted to its various
parts, may be said to be well balanced ; or, that no part of
the picture possesses undue preponderance : but to seek to
iiTake an exact balance of all parts, is to counteract the
effects of composiiion, colouring, light and shade, and
every other valuable principle.

BALANCE OF Painters is a comparative estimate of
their merits, first formed by Mons. Du Piles, who has
in this manner slated his judgment of the most celebrated
masters.

He divides painting into composition, design, colour-
ing, and expression : in each of these branches he con-
siders twenty as the highest possible attainment, or perfec-
tion ; under that he places the degrees of merit to which
each master has advanced in aiming at twenty. The
scheme may be acceptable to our readers.

Balance

( 21 )

Balance uf celebrated Painters,

NAMES.

Alkano .
Albert Durer .
Andrea del Sarto

Barochlo . .
Balfano, Jacomo
Baptist, del Plombo
Bellini, Giovanni
Bourdon
Le Brun

Calliari, P. Veronese
The Carachi .
Corregrio . . ,

Dan. da Vol terra
Diepembeck .
Dominichino

Giorglone
Gucrehino
Guido .

Holb

ein

Giovanni da Udine
•Taq. Jordaens
Luca Giordano
Giosepino
Julio Romano

Lan franc . . .
Leonardo da Vinci
Lucas Van Leyden

Compo-
sition

8
12

14
6
8

4
10
16

15
IS'

12
II
15

s
18

10
10

D<;si.:ii.

Colour-
ing.

10
16

15
8

13
6

17
13

9
10

'3
10

12
10

13
16

17
16

14
8

13
»S

14
9

i8
10

9
16

c.\p.c-.
sion.

10
O

7
O

4
16

'3
12

8
6

Balance

( 22 )
Balance of celehrafed Painter s.^-^Coniinuei.

NAMES.

Conipo

s'ton

Design-

Colour-
in?.

Exprti-

si'>Ti

Alicliacl Aug. linoiiarolti

JJklichaei dc Carava^io .

Mutiano

Otho Vcnius . . .

»3

r»

Palma, veccliio . . .

Palma, jun

Parmcgiano ....

Paul Veronese . . .

Fr. Penni, il fattor . .

Picrino del \'aga . .

IMetro da Cortona . .

JNctro Perugino . .

i^olid. de Caravagio . .

Pordenonc ....

l*ourl)iis

Poussln . . , ■. ,

»5

Priniaticlo ....

I?aphacl Santio . . .

Kcmbrandt ....

»7

Rubens

»7

Fr. Salviati . ; . .

Le Sueur

TcnitTS

»3

Pictro Testa ....

1 1

Tintoretto ....

«S

Titian

Vandxck

Vcnius

14-

Thaddco Zucclara .

Frcdcrico Zucchtro .

»3

BAR t3

Mr. Richardson has taken this Idea, and applied it to
form a judgment of a picture or composition, by dividing
the parts of painting in a similar manner, and determining
in what proportion any performance possesses them. These
preserved for future inspection, may serve, not only as a
register of such a master's skill, but also of the spectator's
judgment J which, if it alters materially on review at a
distant period, mav lonlirm or adjust his critical principles.

Such a register of our public exhibitions by a person of
judgment, would determine the progress of candidates for
public applause in a regular manner, and might occasionally
afl'ord to artists a hint of falling-otf, or of improvement om
such or such principles. Sec.

Balanck o/' a figure. Is an idea that needs no explana-
tion ; it is part of Attitude, w hich see.

BALUSTER, small columns, or pillars of wood, stone,
tec. used on terraces or tops of buildings for ornament, and
ho support railing; when continued, they form i\ balustrade.

BAMBOCHIADE, a term rarely used in England, sig-
nifies a kind of grotesque, ignoble, fantastical stvle of paint-
ing; a kind o{' car'uatura : it is named from Peter f-'au
Laar, a good Dutch painter, who was surnamed Bamlochio,
and who delighted in such capricious fantasies. The hu-
mour of the British nation, as combined and heightened by
Hogarth, ha-^ given occasion to many unskilful imitators to
substitute wildne?s of fancy for wit, and excessive caricature
for humour, to the great prejudice of the public taste
and morals.

BARBAROUS is understood as contrary to whatever is
refined, of good taste, and excellent. The barbarism of
the middle ages is notorious : the Gothic manner is barba-
rous, as it is void of that regulated symmetry and order,
which appcufi in the antique. Whatever is in choice,

mean

24 B A T

liican and low, capricious, unnatural, contorted or deform-
ed, is barbarous. Whatever is misapplied, or improperly
introduced, is so far barbarous.

The best remedy for barbarism is a diligent study of the
antique, whose permanent canons meet the applause of siic-
cessive ages, while temporary taste is forgotten for its bar-
barity, however it may sway the opinion of its contempo-
raries.

BASE is taken in much the same idea as barbarous; for
what is ignoble and unelcvated, both in style and subject.

Base of a column, or pedestal, the lower part of it.
■ In design everv figure and object should have its hase^
whereon it may be supposed to stand, and whereon it actu-
ally would stand, if the composition were reduced from
perspective to a simple plan : this ought always to be at-
tended to, in grouping-, as well as in single figures.

BAS-RlilLIEF, or Basso-uelikvo, is a kind of sculp-
ture related to alto-relievo ; but, wherein the projection of
the figures from the back ground, is by no means equally
prominent : they being kept nearer to the plane of the
ground. When a bas-relief is very little raised, it requires
a peculiar and strong light to see it in perfection. See
Alto-rki.ievo.

BATTLE PiKcu, is a name given among painters to a
picture representing a skirmish, combat, soldiers in warlike
movements, &;c.

Fire and animation form the principal and distlr.tiuish-
ing characteristic of this class of pictures ; whic.ii, how-
ever, at first sight, It may be thought to delight in sub-
jects unpleasing, and perhaps too melancholv for the canvas;
yet, by the management, vi\acitv, and vigour of some
painte^^•, possesses nuiiiy attractive ingredients. Nothing
rec^uircs, ur better admits excellent management of light,
5 .sprightly

B E A -2$

sprightly and lively effect, and that kind of rapidity, where
high finishing yields to spirited touches.

Battle is among those subjects not to be accurately in-
vestigated by the general rules of composition ; the indis-
pensable multitude of figures, the tumult, the confusion,
the clouds of dust, the streams of gore, the extravagant
exertions of men fighting for their lives, of others dying,
the plunder of the dead, the horrors of carnage, require
the most vivid expression ; and whatever best expresses
them is to be chosen, although it may not perfectly coin-
cide with the usual precepts of art.

Only those can paint battles justly, who have been used
to fight them : an employment not commonly supposed
congenial with the polite arts.

BEAUTIFUL, in the arts, signifies whatever in nature
is most perfect and complete ; especially, in those objects
which our train of thinking leads us to suppose are more
eminently beautiful. Nothing is more vague than the ideas
of most persons on what is beautiful ; nor is it easy to pro-
pose regulations which shall produce beauty, though it is
common for many persons to unite in opinion of what is
not beautiful ; and hence perhaps we may partly account
(without recurring to the charge of ill-nature) for that
disposition to find fault rather than to praise, of which ex-
amples are not wanting among critics.

The kinds of beauty are various ; some are positively so
in themselves, as being adapted to our natural senses and
faculties : such is the beauty of natural objects, the sun,
the moon, the stars, according to their brightness : such
are certain natural colours, the azure of the heavens, the
verdure of the plains, the hues of certain flowers, &c.
These are positively beautiful in the opinion of all mankind,

DiCT. Edit. 7. - E yot

a6 B E A

yet all mankind do not agree when these same colours are
compounded in a beautiful face: for the swarthy Asiatic
thinks such a composition cold, and the negro thinks it
disagreeable ; nor is it more pleasant to the copper- coloured
American, however it may delight the European. That
beauty therefore is most beautiful in our esteem, whose
qualities are nearest related to ourselves.

Prejudice has so great a share in our ideas of beauty, that
it is hardly possible to compose beauty that all shall admire,
It was not therefore without reason the ancients praised that
statue of PoLYCLETES, called the Canon ; to which no one
could add, or from which no one could diminish, for the
better ; but then, this was beauty only for that character,
however harmonious its parts might be, however accordant,
or however animated.

There is a positive kind of beauty in the richness of ma-
terials, when there is little orlto beauty in their application:
there is, on the contrary, a beauty arising from the happy
arrangement of very ordinary materials. In many orna-
ments beauty is very variable, and may without detriment
be changed, and beauty of other kinds substituted.

Beauty in the arts, is the source of pleasure : and is
either elevated, or natural. The first, when whatever is
most uncommonly perfect, is happily assembled with har-
monious and corresponding beauty, and nobly applied : the
second, when what wc see, is beautiful, in imitation of
what we are used to see of the same kind. A capital pic-
ture may be thought a beauty of the first class ; while a
picture by a good master, though not a phoenix, may yet be
a handsome representation of nature.

To this kind of beauty contribute (i.) the absence of

apparent deformity : (2.) the making the best use of the

ingredients introduced, putting them in the best places,

4 according

B I R 27

according to their importance, and enabling them to exert
their full powers on the spectator. In elevated beauty
Rafaelle has long been acknowledged eminent.

A very considerable mean ot acquiring beauty, is a stu-
dious intimacy with what is most beautiful ; an avoiding of
impure, gross, trivial, and false ideas; and of whatever
debases the mind; for such ivill eventually debilitate the
taste.

Beautiful forms must be chosen among the antique:
beautiful colouring from nature : beautiful composition
from the studies of great masters, and those accidental oc-
currences which happen from time to time among society ;
beautiful light and shade may be assisted by the camera
obscura.

Beautiful is metaphorically used to signify that which
has served to produce beauty, as we say such an one pos-
sesses a beautiful pencil, a beautiful tool, chisel, graver, &c.

BIRD'S-EYE VIEW, in perspective, is a species of view,
in which the eye of the spectator is supposed to be very greatly
exalted above the horizontal levd of the objects he surveys ;
as from the steeple of a church, &c. a spectator may be said
to have a Bird's-eye view of a town, or demesnes below
him, so that he may be said to look down upon them.
Thus, with regard to a building, he may see several courts
one behind another, by looking over the roof of the edifice.
This artificial view affords an opportunity of shewing at the
same time, the plan and distributiop of an extensive subject ;
together with the elevation and effect of its more important
erections. The eye being placed in a station so much higher
than usual, may be supposed to inspect a proportionately
extensive range of objects. This accommodation is very
useful in representing fortifications, palaces, gardens, &c.
The perspective principles required in treating a Bird's-eye
V. 2 view

aS B O L

view, are not foreign from those already given ; the very
great height of the horizontal line being the chief difference.

BLACK and WHITE is pretty much synonimous with
Chiaro Oscuro, both in its general principles, and in the
application of the term.

BLIND made of tissue paper (or of other thin paper,
sometimes oiledj is necessary to engravers, to regulate the
light by which they work. It is a thin square frame of
light wood, fitted to the window before which it is placed,
resting at the bottom on the table on which the engraver
works, or on the window-sill : it is held at the top by a string
from the upper part of the window, which by its length
proportions the inclination of tlie blind to the window, as
wanted. This square frame has two or three threads which
cross it internally, from corner to corner, and support the
tissue-paper, which goes over them, and whose edges are
pasted to the square frame. The use of this Blhid is, to
adjust the light which enters the window to the plate, and
by the effect of the white paper the plate becomes as it were
whitened, and the hght is rendered much more steady, than
it would be if subjected to the effects of flying clouds, and
other reflections, &c. By this contrivance the work on the
plate is better seen, and the eyes of the engraver are greatly
favoured. To answer the same purpose, when the light
■worked by is that of a candle, a thin paper blind is interposed
between the candle and the plate, which not only whitens
the light, but prevents the effects of the dancings of the
flame from being injurious to the sight. To work by candle-
light without a Blind, would be to risque the injury of
that invaluable member ihe eye.

BOLD is a term expressive of that kind of management
in painting, when, without labour or pains, the artist

touches

B R I 29

touches In his eSect in a rapid and striking manner ; not
staying, for instance, to smoothen or soften his colours,
to melt them, as it were, into each other; but by well-ap-
plied touches, and a happy tone of colours, he supersedes
tb€ necessity of repeated applications.

All parts of a piece may not be bold : for boldness is the
result of inequality, which inequality is itself the result of
contrivance and skill ; thus, while some parts are flat, or
soft, or undistinguished, as being inferior ; the principal
is bold, firm, vigorous, distinct, and attractive, apparently
the effect of happy luck ; while indeed it is the production
of judgment and intelligence.

Very high finishing is apt to injure boldness, as well in
drawings, as in paintings ; which is one reason wherefore
the sketches of some masters please us better than their
more laboured pieces. Both boldness, and finishing,
should be regulated by the nature of the composition, its
proposed situation, &c.

BRICK-COLOURED, is spoken of carnations, whose tone
of colouring is too red, too much mingled with vermilion,
or other ill-chosen red colour, which imparts an unpleasing
brick-like tone to it. This kind of colouring is no less to
be avoided than any other extreme ; it is impossible to fancy
a figure to be flesh and blood, wherein this tone prevails.

BRILLIANT is spoken of a composition whose effect
is striking and lively; resulting from a happy management
of light, of colours, of expression, and of the whole
together.

Brilliancy is a very desirable quality in a picture ; and
when in union with other requisites, gives a forcible termi-
nation, and success to art. In endeavouring to obtain bril-
liancy, many artists run into glare, or gaudy effect, which,
however it may amuse the ignorant, will never please the

well-

3© B R O

wcll-inforincd. BrHliancy in a picture should not resemble
a number of speckling lights like the stars, but a luminary
like the moon, at least, if we cannot reach the splendour of
the sun. The fact is, that one considerable lioht is more
attractive to the eye than a number of twinkling unintelli-
gible spots.

It should always be remembered, that brilliancy in pic-
ture is different from that of nature; as the light coming
from a certain quarter, and not being generally diffused by
perpetual reflections, requires appropriate composition and
management.

Brilliant, is spoken of colours when they retain in
perfection their proper hues : thus, two colours mingled
together lessen each other's lirilUancy ; three colours lessen
brilliancy still more ; and every colour added, more still.
But though each colour loses of its proper brilliancy, yet
the result of the whole in the picture may be brilliant ^ if it
be well employed ; and the picture may be a brilliant pic-
ture, while the colours, individually considered, are broken
and mingled.

BROAD is a term applied principally to effects arising
from licrht and shade : the breadth of these articles is of

the utmost importance. This term is also applied to other
instances, as broad draperies, ?. e. draperies not divided
into multiplied folds, whereby the masses and repose of a
composition are disturbed ; or if (as in fine linen) the folds
are numerous, yet they arc so treated as to form, by many
folds, only one object; or an object of an agreeable tone,
shape, &c. without subdividing the parts into such forms
as may give the idea of cuts and gashes, and in consequence
of constraint.

The principles of breadth, as applied to light and shadow,
are nearly related to those of Cluaro Oscuro, and may

<rcneral!v

B K O 31

generally be taken for an assemblage of tlie llglits in a
piece, in such a judicious part of the composition, and with
such combination, as that they may produce the most
powerful effect; yet this effect cannot be produced, unless
in like manner (or rather on a similar principle, but varied
in its application) the shadows also are united, grouped,
and situated, so as by their opposition to sustain the lights
in their force and splendour. From breadth arises ihat
vigorous attraction of the spectator's attention and regard,
which in a manner prevents him from overlooking a picture,
or passing it by without observation.

It should seem that the simplest plan of producing breadth
is to give the inferior parts, &c. of a composition no more
than their due, but rather to keep them down, in order to
heighten the principal and more important objects.

BROKEN COLOURS are mixtures of colours to form
accurate and judicious tints. This principle is of the greatest
use in colouring: to break colours well, requires a good
eyt and adequate practice.

Colours may be considered in themselves as so many raw
materials, few in number, and therefore whose exact ori-
ginals in nature are few also. They are, consequently,
adapted only to the successful imitation of those originals;
but since there are innumerable other originals in nature,
the artist endeavours, by mixture of pigments, to include
them also in his imitation : this is one cause of breaking
his colours. Another is, that even objects corresponding
to his original and primary colours, are not throughout of
the same tint, but by their liahts and shades diflTer very
considerably ; and to imitate these differences requires a
proportionate breaking of colours. Besides^ it is to be re-
marked, that by the interference of its neighbours the
colour of any object, or part of an object, is diversified,

varied.

32 B R 0

varied, intermixed, debased ; so that its rays never arrive
It the eye pure, but sullied by accessory reflections. Add,
likewise, the necessity of union and harmony with sur-
rounding colours, so that the whole may be agreeable, and
the necessity of moderating, or of heightening some or
others; add also, that finishing is nothing more than the
exact tone of colour incident to each part ', and it appears
clearly, that the colours must be so intermingled and
broken, that only a small portion of them retains its native
hue.

This artifice, like all others, may be carried too far; and
thereby the colours lose their energy and force, together
■with their simplicity and purity. Colours too much mingled
and confused never stand well ; besides that they are apt
to become mealy by unnecessar)' teasing.

BRONZE is a name given to figures cast of a mixed
metal, in which copper has the chief proportion. Bronze
is a very ancient invention, mauv of the best antique figures
and ornaments being made of it. Bronze is very useful
for casting of small figures ; but it is also capable of fur-
nishing figures and groupcs of the largest size, such as
equestrian statues, he. : these are sometimes cast all in one
piece. This is a bold undertaking, and not without risk ;
much oftener, • bronzes of magnitude are cast in separate
parts, and the pieces are afterwards united. Bronze is of
great use in subjects exposed to the air, the action of which
it resists, as it is not liable to rust, or to many other injuries
to which statues, 8cc. are subject.

BROWN is a tone of colour to which some parts of
pictures arc apt to fade after a time : this is certainly a great
imperfection in the management of the colours. Pictures,
originally too dark, can hardly fail of becoming brown in
many of their demi-tints, and black in their shadows. Bad

colours

BUT 33

colours not only become worse themselves, but spoil those
they are combined v. ith. Genuine colours are therefore
one mean of preventing; this brownness ; and a juclioous
mixture of colours, friendly in their natures to each other,
is another mean very proper to be attended to. Colours
naturally become brown in time, if exposed to damps, S:^;. ;
yet pictures painted clear at first ^ill last so a long time.

BURNISHER is an instrument used by engravers, &c. ;
it is made of steel, the point is lengthened, somewhat
heart-shaped, rounded, and highly polished. This tool is
used to snioothen the surface of a plate, to erase slight
scratches, to take out light work, and for many other pur-
poses.

BURNISHING is a mode of heightening the splendour
of gold in the frames, &c. of pictures ; it is performed by
careful rubbing with a dog's tooth, or other polishing in-
strument.

Burnishing is used to polish and smoothen the super-
fuics of copper-plates, to render them fit for the purposes of
the engraver, Sec. ; but copper-plates intended for picture?
need no burnishing.

BUST, or BusTO, is a term applied in sculpture to the
upper parts of a figure — a piece containing the head, shoul-
ders, and chest: the arms are omitted. It may be thought
to answer to a half-length in painting,

BUTMENT, or Abutment; supporters,, or props, on
or again-^t which the feet of arches rest.

BUTTRESS, a kind of butment, built sometimes arcli-
wisc, as to Gothic buildings; a mass of stone or brick-
work, serving to prop or support buildings, walls. Sec. on
the outside, where their great heiglit or weight req^uires.
additional strength.

V>iCT.Bdit.-. T CABINET

34 CAM

V>ABINET is understood of a collection of works of arf,
disposed to advantage for inspection bv the curious. In
this view, they are very agreeable recreations; as, by their
variety and their excellencies, if judiciously selected and
arranged, they aflbrd perpetual novelty and delight. They
discover also the comparative excellence of art, at its various
periods, its rise, or its decline ; or, of a master, if his
works are sufficiently numerous : they assemble many arti-
cles, which, if dispersed, might be lost and destroyed, oc
be thought trivial, yet when collected together are worth
preserving, and in this particular they are the libraries of
art. They may also be thought to resemble libraries, in
the opportunities they afford for study and improvement,
since they offer the thoughts of other artists and their man-
ners of treating subjects, by remarks upon which their
excellencies and defects may be discovered, and either
emulated or avoided. We might add, that perhaps a very
brilliant hint may be taken from a crude idea of some
former master ; or what has been attempted by one, may
perhaps be perfected by another, who, w ithout the original
Miggcstion, vould not have considered the subject.

What it is which in England prevents the utility of cabi-
net?, or precludes us from possessing a public cabinet, is
not unworthy the attention of artists (especially younger
nrtists), and of lovers of the :ins in general.

Cabinet Pieces are those of proper size. See. to form
part of sr.rh collections as usually compose cabinets.

CAMERA OBSCUKA. 'J'hi«; example is closely allied
to the principles advanced in Lr.<."rrRE I. second scries,

and

■-'is^' .'■1 J ■. >A

w^*

DICTIONAUY ol' AKI Ji;>:;i,

Ji^rtndle Camera oMnra

CAM 35

and explains the reversion of external objects. Thus a is
the counierjvirt of A, but reversed by passing through the
crtvice ; b is' the couaterpari of B, ;ind c of C.

This is also a very entertaining philosophical amusement.
We shall, for the information of our readers, insert the
most authentic manner of performing it, as it requires
no further apparatus than merely a lens glass ia a scioptric
ball.

I. The Camera Obscura, or darkened room, is
any large room or chamber made as dark as possible, so as
to exclude all light but that which is to pass through the
hole and lens in the ball fixed in the window of the said
room .

The following particulars are to be attended to in this
philosophical contrivance: 1st, That the lens be extremely
^00(1, or free from any veins, blebs, &c. which may dis-
tort and blemish the picture.

sdly, That the lens be always placed directly against
(he object whose picture you would have perfectly formed
to contemplate ; for if the glass has any other position to
the object, the image will be very imperfect, indistinct, and
confused.

3dly, Care ought to be taken that the ball be sufficiently
large, and the frame in which it is placed not too thick,
that so there be sufficient room for turning the ball every
v.ay, to take in as many objects as possible, and to render
the use thereof most complete.

4thly, The lens ought to be of a just magnitude or aper-
ture; for, if it be too small, the image will be obscure, and
the minute parts not visible at a distance for want of requi-
site light. On the other hand, if the aperture be too large,
the image will be confused, and become indistinct by too
much light.

F 2 ^thly,

$6 CAM

5thly, We ought not to attempt to exhibit a picture of
objects in a dark room, unless the sun shines upon, or
strongly illuminates the objects ; for mere daylight is not
sufficient for this purpose ; the greatest beauty in this phe-
nomenon being the exquisite appearance and contrast of
light and shadows, none of which can appear but from an
object placed in the sun-beams, without which every thing
looks dark and dull, and makes a disagreeable figure.

6thly, Therefore the window, or that s de of the room
-svliere the scioptric ball is used, ought to louk towards that
quarter directly upon which the sun shines, that so the illu-
Diinated sides of objects may present themselves to the lens,
and appear more glorious in the picture.

ythly, Hence it is easy to iufer, that the best time of the
day for this experiment is about noon, becau<e the sun-
beams arc then strongest, and of course the picture most
luminous and distinct : also, that a north window is the
best, though for viewing the shadow* in greatest perfection
an east or west window will answer the end best.

8thly, As the image is formed only by the reflected rays
of the sun, so due care should be taken that none of the
sun's direct rays fall on the lens in the window ; for if they
do, they will, by mixing with the former, greatly disturb
the picture, and render it very confused ynd unpleasant to
view.

9thly, As white bodies reflect the incident rays most co-
piously, and black ones absorb them most ; so to make ti>c
picture most perfect it ought to be received upon a very
white surface, as paper, a painted cloth, wall, fee. bonlered
round with bkiek, that so the collateral rays which come
from on eacli side the object may be stilled, and not sufJtreJ
lo disturb the pkture by reflection.

These-

CAM 3t

These iire necessary precautions for ihc ^iie ordering thf.
various circiimptanccs ot this experiment.

We shall tnumeriite the principal phenomeiia of the dark
chamber. The first i.-;, that an exact and every way simi-
lar image is formed of an exicrnal ohject} for pencils ot rays
comino; from all points of the object will represent those
points in such a manner and position as will be propor-
tional and correspondent to their respective positions and
distances in the object, so that the whole in the image shall
bear an exact gimilituJc or likeness of the object in every
respect.

The second phenomenon is, that the image will bear the
same projjortion to the object, whether a line, superficies,
or solid, as their di.itances from the glass respectively*
lience the larger the focal distance from the glass, t)ie more
ample will be the picture of the same object, but the less
will be the space or compass of the plan or perspective
view.

The tlurd phenomenon i?, tliat the image or picture of
the object is inverted 5 and this is not the eflect of the glass,
but tile crossing of the ravs in the hole through which they
pass into the room; for if a vcrv small hole were made in
the window-shutter of a darkened rootn, the objects without
would be all seen inverted, thf)se which come from the
upper part of the object going to tlie lower part of the
image, and vice versa. All that the glass does is to render
the image distinct, bv converging the rays of every pencil
to their proper focus in the picture, the position of each
point being the same as before.

The J'ourth phenomenon is the motion or rest of the several
parts of the picture, according as those of the object are in
either state. The reason of this is very obvious, and this
it is that gives life and spirit to the palming and portraits of

nature,
5

38 C A M

nature, and is the only particular inimitable by art. And
indeed a more critical idea may he formed of any movement
in the picture of a darkened room, than from observing the
motion of the object itself: for instance, a mun walking in
a picture appears to have an undulating motion, or to rise
up and sink down every step he takes ; whereas nothing of
this kind is observed in the man himself, as viewed by the
bare eye.

The Jifth phenomenon \% the coloi/ring of the optic pic-
ture: every piece of imagery has its proper tints and co-
lours, and those always heightened and rendered more in-
tense than in the object; so that in this respect it is an
improvement on nature itself, whereas the art of the greatest
master can only pretend to a distant resemblance and faint
imitation. The reason why tlie image is coloured is, be-
cause the several points of the object reflecting several sorts
of coloured rays to the glass, those rays will give a repre-
sentation of those several points respectively, and in their
own colour, and therefore in those of the object; but those
colours will be heightened, because they are crowded into a
less space.

The sixth phenomeuon is the Chiaro oscuro, that is, the
intensity of light and shadow in the picture; and this, as
well as the colourino; is creatlv hcio;htened above what it is
in the object, by reason of the lesser area of the picture.
Here every light and every shade is expressed in its proper
decree, from the most brilliant to the most black, inclusive
of a wonderful varictv in the several parts, arising from the
difloront situations of the several parts of the object, and
the diflerent angles of reflection. A just imitation of nature
in the distribution of light and shadows is perhaps the most
diflicuit part of the art of painting, and on which its greatest
pcifvciion depends.

N. B.

CAM 39

N. B. If an object be placed just twice the focal distance
from the glass without, the image will be formed at the
same distance from the glass within the room, and conse-
quently will be equal in magnitude to the object itself.

No. 2, is meant merely as a hint to explain the effects of
a lens behind the first ; for if the rays passing through the
first are inverted, by passing through a second they will be
re-inverted, if it be placed at a just distance with regard
to the focus of the first glass. Thus the head of the cross
Aj proceeds regularly to B, crosses the focus C, and is by
the glass D again transmitted through the second focus E,
till it is erect at F. On this principle, variously apjilied,
are telescopes constructed, though it io generally omitted in
the camera obscura.

Portable Camera Obscura is constructed in the form
of a book, and, if nicely wrought, need hardly exceed the
dimensions of a folio. The parts are held in their places
by little hooks, &c. when standing and in use, but fold on
each other when removed. The right side of the box folds
on the bottom, then the left side on the right; the looking-
glass, its stands, and the lens being token away, the top is
folded together, and then the whole top folds against the
back, and the back folds on tlie rest of the machine, and
forms the other part of the hook. A place for the looking-
glass, stands, Sec. is easily made in any part of the book.
The curtain should be made of strong stuff: the darker iu
colour the better. The top of the box contains the lens,
and the use of the looking-glass is to reflect to the lens the
objects desired to be inspected : it is adjusted by n^.eans of a
strinsi; held in the hand till it gives a perfect representation,
which is transmitted through the lens.

The spectator must stand with his back to those objects
which he desires to view, and must be careful that the cur-
tain

40 CAP

tain totally excludes the light. This rrprcsentation o^ the
objecU being very well defined on the white paper at the
bottom of the box, they may easily be outlined with ablacli
lead pencil : a print or picture placed before the looking--
glass may be copied by this method. A variation of this
principle is used in taking likcncs?cs by shade.

CAPITAL is a, character given to performances whose
merit is of the highest standard.

It may well be supposed that the number of capital pieces
in any department of art must be very small ; few masters
possessing sufficient abilities for the production of such
works. That many artists excel in some particular depart-
ment, w hose talents in others are but moderate, is certain j
thus, one may design in a noble and grand style, w^hile his
colourino; or management is but indilTerent ; another mav
colour to admiration, but without suO^cient dexterity in
design; a picture may be capital in one respect, yet not be
a capital picture, because of its obyious deficiencies in other
requisites.

While the extent of art is so various, and human abilities
so limited, we ought to acknowledge merit wherever wc
find If, and to do it justice, be it in what department it
mav; therefore without; hesitation we admit such or such a,
master to be a capital designer, colourist, Sec. although
perliaps his works might bear improvenuiit in other parti-
culars. To be distinguished in any respect is hoiiourablc;
united e>vcellcn(C is the lot of few.

Capital, the uppermost niembcr of ^ column, whi.cK
is as a eroun or h,ead thereto, placed immediately over the
shaft, and under the architrave : no column is complete
without a capital, w hieh has a distinguishing character for
each order, Tuscan and Doric capitals cousi^l of mould-

ii)irs J

CAR 41

Sngs ; Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite capitals, of leaves
and other ornaments.

CARICATURA signifies a likeness of any person or
thing, loaded, exaggerated, heightened, and rendered gene-
rally ridiculous.

CarIcatura is the extreme or excess of character. Every
person has some particular feature or proportion, which
may be termed proper or peculiar to himself: thi>, rendered
yet more conspicuous and forcible, and divested of those
more agreeable and general parts which in the person him-
self qualify this peculiarity, becomes caricatura. A long
nose in nature, becomes in caricatura a proboscis ; a cast
pf the eye is downright squinting; a prominent chin is an
excellent object for caricatura, which turns it into a penin-
sula; and, in short, by travestying the countenance, yet
so as to preserve a resemblance by which it may be appro-
priated, it improves upon the saying which infofms us,
that *' an inch in a man's nose is a great deal." The defects
of the figure, stooping, unequal length of the legs, lame-
ness, &c. are subjects for caricatura. After all, it is but
poor amusement (and not by ai^y means improving to an
urtist) to study and expose the defects of our neighbours;
and, indeed, is only admissible as satire on those whose
behaviour deserves it, and who

" Safe from the bar, the pulpit, and the throne.
Are touch'd and sham'd by ridicule alone."

CARNATION is the same as naked, or flesh ; but is
spoken generally of the whole of that kind, not of any par-
ticular member. For the principles of carnations, vide the
Compendium of Colours, Sec.

CARTOON is a coloured drawing made on paper, the
same size as a work to be executed. Cartoons are generally

DiCT. Edit. 7, G ^ used

42 CAS

used as originals for tapestry, large painted windows, mo-
saics, and other pictures of the same nature; where the
artists who condiict them require an exact model of what
they are to produce, which is to be their guide, as well io.
effect as in proportion, colours, &c.

In England, when the Cartoons are mentioned, it gene-
rally means those formerly at Hampton Court, but now at
Buckingham House, which are painted by Raffaelle
(principally with his own hand), and which, being taken
on board a vessel as they were sending to be copied in
tapestry, were afterwards brought to England, and now form
part of the royal collection. They arc among Raffaelle's
best works, and are superior to any other collection of his
works, except the Papal at Rome.

CARTOUCHES are ornaments adapted to contain in-
scriptions, mottos, arms, and other devices. They have
acquired this appellation by being generally representations
of paper, &c. rolled, folded, or returned at the ends.

CARYATIDES are female figures placed instead of co-
lumns. Though such figures are certainly the work of the
sculptor, yet the term seems rather to belong to architec-
ture : when figures of men are used, the order is termed
Persian. Vide the Lectures on Architecture, p. 48.

CAST of a statue, figure, &c. is obtained by pouring
into a mould a quantity of fluid metal, which, when cold,
retains the form of the mould : casts of plaster of Paris are
obtained on the same principle. The process is common
among us.

Casts may be obtained from medals, gems, 8cc. without
any damage to the original.

Cast is employed to denote the order and set of the folds
in drapery: when the foldings of a drapery are natural,
well distributed, easy, characteristic, and harmonious, such

a drapery
4 ■ '

C E t 43

a drapery Is well cast. In using a lay figure, when theJ
artist cannot adjust a drapery to his mind, it is better to
hazard another cast by a fresh motion of the limbs, than
to fatigue the fancy by too long-continued endeavours to
amend what is faulty : nevertheless, a ready eye may make
considerable improvements on a cast of drapery, which
accident has produced in a state of forwardness, but has not
perfected.

CATAFALQUE, in Italian Catafalco, is a temporary
erection, used in popish countries during the service for the
repose of the dead, or \\\e funeial ceremony. It is the re-
presentation of a sepulchre (or kind of meme7ito morijy
placed under arches, canopies, 8cc. decorated with emble-
matical figures, virtues, genii, and other ornaments of
architecture, painting, and sculpture. They are too ex-
pensive to be used except on occasion of royal funerals, 8cc.

CAULICOLI, little twists or volutes under the flower
on the abacus in the Corinthian capital : they represent
the twisted tops of the acanthus stalks ; are called also
helices.

CEILING, PAINTED, has a very rich and magnificent
effect when well conducted ; contributing greatly to the
finishing and decoration of a noble apartment ; and also,
when judiciously composed, to the rem.edying of defects in
the architecture; as in the ceiling of a church at Naples,
which being evidently too low for the other dimensions of
the fabric, was so happily managed by Luca Giordano,
with such lightness and effect, as to seem many feet higher
than it really is.

The principles of ceiling-painting are conformable to the
precepts of perspective, and depend on the simple idea that
the work is to be seen from below ; consequently the figures
and objects introduced must be foreshortened upwards,

G z The.

44 C E N

The choice of attitudes, therefore, should include only
such as admit of gracefuhiess when so foreshortened ; and,
as lightness is indispensable to ceiling-pieces, the figures
should, as it were, seem suspended in the air, and, as if
hovering over the room, they were seen without the inter-
position of the ceiling.

It has been by some painters thought proper to insert on
ceilings very extensive compositions, containing even hun-
dreds of figures : this, liowever, seems erroneous, when
we reflect that long before a spectator can distinguish
one half of them, his neck will become weary, and totally
forego the other half. Easy and simple subjects, not too
much crowded, but facile of comprehension, are best adapted
to this kind of composition.

CELL, in an ancient temple, is the enclosed space within,
the walls.

CEMENT for mending of pictures is sometimes thus
composed : two parts of new yellow wax, one part of nut,
or of linseed oil, and one part of brown okcr, or some other
earthy colour, the whole melted and mixed together. It
serves to replace the priming, where that is worn off; also
to fill up crevices, and other openings or damages, which
it does very smoothly, after w hich the surface must be care-
fully painted over. Sometimes the cracks, Sec. in wood
are filled up with white lead, mixed with strong glue by
way of cement.

CENOTAPH is a monumental erection to the memory
of some illustrious deceased ; usually ornamented with alle-
gorical Hgiires and inscriptions allusive to his virtues, acr
tions, hcQ. The permanence of a cenotaph distinguishes
it from a catafalque, as its not containing the body of the
deceased distinguishes it from a tomb.

CERTAIN^

C H A 45

CERTAIN, is spoken of the outlines or contours when
they arc not equivocal or indetcrmiualc, but just and natural.
It must be acknowledged that the old masterr, in general,
in order to manifest their skill in design, gave so much
certaintv to the contours of their figures, as to render them
hard and dry, a fault necessary to be avoided, being very
prejudicial to union and to eflfcct : certainty is the just
medium between this hardness and unmeaning softness of
outline,

CHARACTER is that distinguishing and appropriate
appearance of objects, whereby they are known to the spec-
tator : this principle being of universal application and
notice, and founded on natural distinctions, deserves the
most intiniate acquaintance of the artist.

Character, as it relates to the human figure, is a prin-
cipal object of study.

Character is as extensive as objects to be represented,
and exacts much attention and remark. The characters of
animals may be conceived of as including their natural dis-
positions. Thus, a sheep must not be represented devour-
ing a wolf, nor a sparrow attacking an eagle ; but through-
out pictures of animals, each animal should be em-
ployed as nature would dictate. Character should also dis-
tinguish the several kinds of coats, furs, &c. of animals.
The spots and skins of cows, &c, differ from those of
horses, as horses do from asses, or even from themselves
in a wild state, The furs of foxes, rabbits, &c. are dif-
ferent from those of cats and of dogs ; and thus character
runs throughout the whole race of quadrupeds, even in these
minor particulars. It is not necessary to remark the cha-
racteristic forms of animals, since that is obvious, and no
person possessing the blessing of sight can be deceived on
the subject,

Character

46 C H A

Character also pervades even inanimate nature; the
water of a river diflfers in character from that of the sea,
from that of a lake having no motion, from that of a
ditch, and from that of a morass ; also from ice, and from
the sea in a storm. The character of mountains varies from
that of plains; and frequently that of theii' summits varies
from that of their sides of their bottoms.

The characters of buildings vary greatly. Stone is un-
like brick in other respects beside its colour, as are mud-
walls, or plaster, or rough-cast. A thatched roof is not
the same in appearance as tiles, or slate, even if we abstract
the colour ; but when we add the distinctions arising from
colour, light and shade, and other incidents, the character
of each becomes yet more specifically separated and unlike.

The character also of draperies is often totally different ;
witness woollen cloth — in broadcloths, camlets, stuffs,
bombazines, and otlier woollen manufactures ; silk also —
in lutestrings, which can hardly be mistaken for satins,
modes, &c. &c. ; linens — in cambricks, table-linen. Sec.
down to sail-cloth; and so in many others: — where we
observe, that not only silk is different from woollen, but
even' from itself in another state, and under the form of
another commodity.

The character of precious stones forms a distinction
from all the foregoing : their splendour, their brilliancy^
their richness of colour, is peculiar to themselves. Among
these, each is distinct from others > and he who should con-
found a ruby with an amethyst or a sapphire, would be
thought disqualified for the superintendence of the mines of
Golconda, however he might labour in exploring them as a
slave ; as an artist who should paint a diamond black, would
be rival to him who should dive for diamonds and dig for
peails.

Thus

C H A 47

Thus It is evident, by parity of reason, that throughout
the whole dominion of nature there is a diversity of ciiaijc-
ter and appearance : to be acquaiiiied with this diversity is
no easy matter, nor is it rhe present business of these pages
to explain it; it is sufficient if they hint at its extent and
universality.

The Character of an artist is understood of that kind
of management and coniluct which appears in his pieces ;
whether in his composiiion, his ordonnance, his style, or
his handling.

The character of his mind shews itself in the elevation of
his thoughts, the enthusiasm of his invention, his judgment
and disposition : the character of his hand displays itself iti
the colouring, the touch, &c. These two kinds of charac-
ter enable us to determine, long after a master's decease,
whether a picture be of his hand, an original, or a copy,
an imitation, or authentic ; though it must be owned deceit
has so well imitated verity on many occasions, that not
every critic is able to detect the imposture. Deceit is, how-
ever, so far laudable in the arts of design, that to impose
on a capable judge shews no small talents in the artist;
though, it must be confessed, they seem somewhat mis-
applied.

CHARGED is used as synonimous to overloaded,
strained, &c. ; but is generally understood to be, the con-
sequence of desire in an artist to impart a certain somewhat
of greatness to his work. Thus, the subjects painted by
Annibalk Carrachj, in the Farnese Gallery, though in
many respects admit able, are yet thought by artists to be
charged; for, o.ing painted from models, the painter has
endeavoured to give his figures a certain something of ad-
vantage which his models had not, and thereby he has often
exceeded the modesty of nature.

48 CHI

It must however be confessed, tliat too close ah adherence
to a model, even in a portrait, is not altogether an adhe-
rence to nature. There is a difference between duty and
servitude. To be bound down to imitation of what is be-
fore the eye, is a constraint, a slavery, for which the work
will certainly suffer; but judgment must determine how far
deviation may be carried. Bad painters charge their works,
even their portraits, through ignorance and misapplication ;
that kind of charge in which good artists indulge them-
selves, is the result of sound discretion and of science,
assisted by the decision, firmness, and spirit, of a masterly
hand; their object is to elevate the character represented,
by omitting or softening the minuticB of their subject on
one hand ; and on the other, by doing ample justice to
whatever is good or noble in it, ";eneralizin2; the traits, and
rendering the whole as agreeable as may be.

The abuse of charge is not confined to the human figure,
but is very demonstrable in the trees of many landscape-
painters, who augment the branches, 8cc. till the stem is
ready to sink under their weight.

Colours may be said to be charged when they are too
brown, too black, too white, &c. for the sake of ac-
quiring a specious kind of force; which in fiict ought to
proceed from other sources, and to be attained by other
means.

CHIARO OSCURO, is an Italian expression ; In itself
signifying, merely light and shadow ; but used among
artists to signify the science of managing light and shadow
to the greatest advantage, in picturesque composition. The
term is at present so familiar that it may be considered as
adopted English.

When a painter gives to his figures great relief and force,
distinguishing with propriety and advantage the objects in-
cluded

CHI 4^

eluded In his composition, introducing the most agreeable
and just lights and shadows, so as to form masses of con-
siderable extent and breadth, and not trivial divisions and
subdivisions ; such a painter is said to understand the Chiaro
Oscuro : or, to produce a great effect ; which is the result
of Chiaro Oscuro. Chiaro Oscuro, therefore, Is the art
of distributing the combinations of lights and shadows,
which naturally accompany objects of «very kind, not
merely with respect to the objects themselves (i. e. not
merely as they would fall in reality, without further thought);
but so as to give the greatest life, force, and strength, to
the total of the picture, when surveyed as an aggregate, or
collection of parts.

This artifice, though the most, powerful attendant of
art, was long entirely unknown among arti-;ts ; those only
who studied colouring in its principles, made any consider-
able advances toward it; and among the Venetian school
we must look for its origin, which at length was matured,
and regulated, by the happy genius of Rubens ; ever since
whose time, this system has been esteemed the basis of
colourinfr.

The painter, working on a plane superficies, can Impart
the ideas of roundness and relief (not to say of motion) to
any object, only by an accurate and careful gradation of
lints ; by the judicious opposition, and heightenlngs, of
the lights, and their corresponding shadows. Among such
gradations may be reckoned, the demi-tints, glazings,
reflections, and accidents ; together with smart touches of
lights, or of shadows, as either may be wanted; or as
either light or shadow advances before other parts ; thereby
causing recession, interval, or distance.

The chief principles of Chiaro Oscuro are collection,
and MUTUAL support ; a kind of discipline, not unlike the

DiCT. Edit. 7. u arrangement

50 CHI

arrangement of an army ; wherein every corps is collected
and appointed to its place, and the united strength of the
whole augmented by principle, and method, This may be
said to distinguish an army from a mob, though equally
numerous ; so may judicious appointment of light and
shadow, without any greater quantity of either, or reinforce'
tnent, but merely by management, produce effects infinitely
beyond unregulated application of the same materials.

A picture may be supposed divided into four parts ; to
have two of those parts in middle tint, or slight shade; one
part dark or strong shndow, and one part enlightened or
resplendent. It is evident, that if these parts were sub-
divided and intermingled, they would no otherwise relieve
each other than do chequers at an ale-house door j whereas,
if the relative parts are harmonized and assembled, i. e.
. shade to shade, and light to light, they form by their union
a powerful combination, whose effect is to attract the eye to-
ward itself. Perhaps, it is not too much refining to say, that
this idea is allied to the nature and properties of the eye,
as the organ of vision. Is the eye attracted by a dead, fiat,
uniformity of colour ? Certainly no : nor is it gratefully
affected by intense black, relieving in some part this flat-
ness ; after a single inspection it is satisfied. But it is cer-
tain, that a bright light (as a white wall for instance)
attracts the eye, very powerfully, much more powerfully than
any thing yet mentioned ; I say the eye is startled, as it
■were, by brilliant white placed on a dead flat ; this is
heightened, by supposing the intense black brought near to,
and placed by the side of, the brilliant white, which by
such opposition becomes very greatly increased in its force,
and effect. If force was the only requisite in Chiaro Oscuro,
this supposition miijht explain the matter; but as, beside
force, harmony is necessary, we have to add to our suppo-

ftitioa

C II I 51

sltion certain gradatory Intervals between the splendor of
the white, and the depth of the black; these, by temper-
ing and aceomniodating the extremes (i. c. white and black),
render them more pleasing ; the offensive suddenness, and
rapidity, of the transition ceases, and a more agreeable,
and ameliorated, effect ensues.

That scattered lights have no force, appears from many
objects in nature. Titian's comparison was a bunch of
grapes : others might be named ; for instance, a flock of
sheep scattered over a field, produce no effect ; but collected
into one body they compose with more force, by forming a
broader light ; or even as a more considerable object.

Therefore we conclude that a judicious collection of lights-
into one assemblage, or principal union (in some part of
which union we suppose the focus of strength and
effect) this collection opposed by a similar union of shadow,
whereby its effect is heightened, and rendered more piquant i
these extremes moderated, allied, harmonized, and melted,
by a friendly interference of gradations, demi-tinls, and, as
it were, neuters, form the first principle of Chiaro Oscuro.

As to the SUPPORT of light and shadow, it may be ob-
served, that because one principal centre of light or of
shadow is indispensable, inferior, subordinate, and less
conspicuous introductions of either are not forbidden ;
but, provided they are subservient to, and connected in
nature, relation, and degree, with the principal, they sup-
port such principal no less by.jheir alliance, than the op-
ponent masses do by their contrast. Moreover, they re-
lieve the eye, they induce it to continue its researches, to
wander, as it were, over the picture, inspecting every part
by turns, according to its consequence, yet without lessen-
ing the dignity of the principal. They may, perhaps, be
aptly compared to a retinue of servants waiting on some

H 2 grea.t

5* ^ C H T

great man ; they indicate an importance, a superiority In
tJieir principal, correspondent to our ideas of his exahation
and honour; but should any of them forget his place and
assume airs of mock majesty, we are displeased^ and ex-
claim against such impropriety, as insufferable, and inde-
cent.

The effect of a picture excellent in Chiaro Oscuro,
should be (at a distance too great to determine its subject)
an agreeable mixture or correspondence of forms and lights :
at a nearer approach, it should attract the eye by its force
and powerful relief, so as to fix the spectator's attention, and
to induce him to investigate and examine its composition,
and management. This property may be greatly attained
by the principles of force. But a picture should also be so
artfully conducted, that the spectator should hardly be
able to quit the inspection of it, but should, without weari-
ness, or satiety, dwell on the parts whose happy regulation
entertains his inspection : this is the result of harmony
and intelHo-ence in treating the Chiaro Oscuro, of which it
is also the perfection.

According to the differences of compositions, will be the
treatment they require : every Recipe for their conduct
is absurd and idle. In general it may be noted, that a body
of light on either extremity of the picture, is injurious
(especially to the other extremitv), and that it cannot be
effectively supported by shadow on all sides. On the other
hand, if the centre of light be in the very centre of the
picture, it renders art too much visible, and as it were ma-
thematical ; consequently, ungraceful and stiff. The best
way is, to let the light fall most strongly near, not in the
middle of the picture, to let it catch, and be diversified
chiefly round about its principal union, to embellish this
brightness by placing the depth of the shadows near these

central

CHI Si

central lights, and to keep the extremities of the piece void
of intense darks, or of splendid lights, letting them, by their
modesty, assist the effect of the centre.

These principles may be applied to every kind of subject,
and no less to landscape, still-life, or other compositions,
than to historical subjects.

As there is no greater demonstrative proof of the truth
and application of the foregoing principles, than the in-
spection of a Camera Obscura, u'e refer to that article,
and to the descriptions of the peculiarities which it offers.

Chiaro Oscuro seems to have been much beholden to
the art of engraving (in which its power is very conspicu-
ous) for its improvement, and perfection. It was not till
after painters beheld their compositions divested of the effect
of colours, that they sought for principles, which, inde-
pendent of that effect, might be efficacious in producing
force ; but which when they saw reduced to- black and white
in prints, they adopted into pictures, and studied to obtain
a force, distinct and independent of colouring, but which
might be allied and assistant as well to that, as to compo-
«ition, and to general effect.

As a judicious method of studying the principles of others,
we shall insert the following method, which we are told by
Sir Joshua Reynolds he used with success.

*' The same rults, which have been given in regard to
the regulation of groupes of figures must be observed in regard
to the grouping of lights, that there shall be a superiority of
one over the rest, that they shall be separated, and varied
in their shapes, and that there should be at least three lights :
the secondary lights ought, for the sake of harmony and
union, to be of ncirly equal brightness, though not of equal
magnitude with the p'-incipal.

" The means by which the painter works, and on which

ihe effect of his picture depends, are light and shade, warm

4 and

54 CHI

and cold colours : that there is an art in the management
and disposition of those means will be easily granted, and
it is equally certain, that this art is to be acquired by a care-
ful examination of the works of those who have excelled
in it.

" I shall here set down the result of the observations
which I have made on the works of those artists who appear
to have best understood the manaejement of light and shade,
and who may be considered as examples for imitation in this
branch of the art.

** Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoret, were among the
first painters who reduced to a system what was before prac-
tised without any fixed prmciple, and consequently neglected
occasionally. From the Venetian painters Rubens extracted
his scheme of coniposition, which was soon understood
and adopted by his countiymen, and extended even to the
minor painters of familiar life in the Dutch school.

*' When I was at Venice the method I took to avail
myself of their principles was tliis : when I observed an
extraordinary effect of light and shade in any picture, I
took a leaf of my pocket-book, and darkened every part of
it in the same gradation of light and shade as the picture,
leaving the white paper untouched to represent the light, and
this without any attention to the subject or to the drawing
of the figures. A few trials of this kind will be sufficient
to give the method of their conduct in the management of
their lights. After a few trials I found the paper blotted
•nearly alike ; their general practice appeared to be, to allow
not above a quarter of the picture for the light, including
in this portion both the principal and secondary lights j
another quarter to be as dark as possible ; and the remain-
ing half kept in mezzotint or half shadow.

^' Rubens appears to have admilted rather more light than

a quarter.

C H I 5S

a quarter, and Rembrandt much less, scarce an eighth ; by.
this conduct Rembrandt's hght is extremely brilHant, but it
costs too much ; the rest of the picture is sacrificed to this
one object. That hght will certainly appear the brightest
which is surrounded with the greatest quantity of shade,
supposing equal skill in the artist.

" By this means you may likewise remark the various
forms and shapes of those lights, as well as the objects on
which they are flung, whether on a figure, or the sky, on
a white napkin, on animals, or utensils, often introduced
for this purpose only: it may be observed likewise what
portion is strongly relieved, and how much is united with,
its ground, for it is necessary that some part (though a small
one is sufficient) should be sharp and cutting against its
ground, whether it be light on a dark, or dark on a light
ground, in order to give firmness and distinctness to the work;
if on the other hand it is relieved on every side, it will ap-
pear as if inlaid on its ground. Such a blotted paper, held
at a distance from the eye, will strike the spectator as some-
thing excellent for ihe disposition of light and shadow,
though he does not distinguish whether it is a History, a
Portrait, a Landscape, dead Game, or any thing else ; for
the same principles extend to every branch of the art."

Chiaro Oscuro is descriptive of pictures painted in black
and white only, imitating basso-relievo, in marble or stone,
&c. This manner of painting differs little from a drawing,
in oil, instead of being washed ; except as some masters
have succeeded in it, who have so truly touched their sub-
jects, that, at a very little distance, they may pass for mar-
ble to the most accurate inspector.

Chiaro Oscuro, when spoken of prints, signifies those
performed in imitetion of drawings washed in bistre. Sec.
The middle tint is laid over the other part by means of a

block

56 C H O

block adapted to the whole (the lights being cut out and
left quite white), and the shadows are produced over this
tint, by another block, from whicli all besides the parts
necessary to form the shadow, are cut away : for this inven-
tion we are beholden to Hugo da Caupi, but the manner
is not In much request, since the delicacy of engraving has
been carried to perfection : it is still further superseded by
the invention of aqua-tinta,

CHISEL is an instrument used in sculpture, made of
steel : chisels are of several shapes and sizes ; but all in
some degree resembling the carpenter's chisel, which is
too well known to need description.

Chisel is used as a generic term, denoting the works
of the sculptor; which are named productions of the chisel,
&c. The manual application of the chisel requires dex-
terity, and address, to ensure correctness.

CHOICE, is a term used in the arts, to express that
selection of subject, of composition, and of parts, which is
worthy the imitative or mental exertions of art, and which
is superior to the ordinary effects of nature, or what by being
too common is vulgar and insipid. A subject should be
well chosen ; otherwise it will want interest : or the only
interest it possesses will arise from management, and, in-
stead of supporting that management, it must solicit sup-
port from it. Further, the best incident which a subject
affords, should be chosen, and should be well displayed :
this seems to be justified bv everv consideration arising from
art. Attitudes should be mcII chosen, and not only tell the
story well, but be in tbeniselvcs graceful, proper, and contri-
bute to the general beauty of the w liole. Characters, actions,
draperies, lights, accompaniments and accessories of all
kinds, should be choseuj selected from whatever the sub*
ject affords; and be displayed witii choice also: i. c. in the

most

COL 5*7

Ynost favourable manner, for the general advantage. On
8uch choice an artist shews taste, judgment, genius, and
good management, and it is sure to be distinguished to his
credit.

CIPPI are a kind of short columns, or rather half- co-
lumns : sometimes employed by sculptors to support vases,
figures, &c. The ancients called dppi those parts of co-
lumns on which they wrote inscriptions, which directed
passengers to what places the road conducted : from hence
the term has found its way into the arts.

CLEAN, is spoken of colours when they possess a vigour
and freshness of tint not destroyed by bad mixtures, by
leasing, or by negligence : to cleanness of colours contri-
butes the cleanness of the pallet and pencil. All small sub-
jects,! and those which are to be closely inspected, require
cleanness, especially flowers, and still life.

To Clean pictures has been treated in Comp. of Col.

CLOTH. — Vide this article in the Compendium of
Colours.

CLOTHING of figures requires strict attention to the
costume, an advantageous display of the foldings, proper
reference to situation in life of the party, and proper deco-
f ation : also regard must be had to the action performing;
since to perform some actions, a person may be less clothed
fhart is requisite for others ; and to the seasons, whose in-
fluence on clothing is notorious.

COLD is the opposite to warmth in colouring: it usually
is occasioned by a too prevalent use of blue tints, under the
notion of delicacy ; but sometimes from a deficiency of
warm tints employed in their proper places.

COLOPHONY is turpentine boiledin water till itbecomes
solid, white, and brittle: it is employed in some varnishes.

DicT. Edit, 7. I COLOSSAL

58 COL

COLOSSAL Statue, is one by very much larger thaii
nature. The most famous colossus is that mentioned by
Pliny, lib, 34. ch. 37. made by Chares, a disciple of Lysip-
pus J it was of bronze, represented Apollo, and was of such
prodigious dimensions that fqw men could embrace its
thumb. It was placed in the inner harbour of Rhodes ;
and (small) vessels in full sail might pass under it, between
its legs. It was overthrown by an earthquake. It is said to
have been seventy cubits high ; to have been twelve years in
making ; and to have cost 800 talents. The golden image
of Nebuchadnezzar, described in the book of Daniel, was
a colossus^ though not of equal hejght : and many other
figures ancient and modern have justly been termed colossal;
— but are not all colossal figures monsters? They are only
tolerable when distance or situation diminishes their dimen-
sions to somewhat of a correspondence with the life.

COLOURING is that appropriate peculium of painting,
whereby it is more immediately distinguished from other
branches of the arts of design. Composition, expression,
Sec. are common to others, but colouring belongs exclu-
sively to painting.

The end proposed by colouring, is to deceive the eye;
the nearer therefore it approaches to the natural colours of
objects represented, and the more advantageously such imi-
tations are disposed, the more likely is the issue to be suc-
cessful.

The judgment of the eye is so exact, and the variety of
natural objects so multiplied, that not many painters attain
eminence in colouring: they may succeed in part, in cer-
tain subjects, or as it were by intervals, without being able to
give perfect satisfaction ; and perhaps, one reason may be,
that, however systematic rules may apply to design, or ta

composiiiou

COL 59

composition (whereby the student is guarded against ma-
terial faults by the labours and precepts of others, and by
being able to ascertain, at least, an approach to a standard
or canon), and also, that parts and dimensions are expressi-
ble, and explicable ; yet, in colouring, every eye sees for it-
self, and is for itself impressed by apparent truth or fallacy,
beauty or deformity. The variety of tints which may be
thought the same colour, is very considerable, as are its
gradations and combinations, a slight departure from which,
is not without serious consequences, when strengthened into
a manner.

Perhaps, as in music there is unquestionably a natural
formation or disposition of the ear, which fits it for har-
mony, See. ; so in the eye, a similar quality may be neces-
sary, and a good eye be equally the gift of nature as a good
ear. It is also highly probable, that many physical causes
may contribute to prevent the acquisition of this branch of
art : not only the eye may be more or less imperfect, without
the perception of the person himself (who by constant habi-
tude is insensible of it], but also the general constitution of
out the body may concur to this deficiency. An artist natu-
rally melancholy and bilious will adopt a yellow, a greenish,
or, perhaps, a leaden tone of colouring. The listless and
j)hlcgniaiic will colour, as it were, faded, or clayey : the
sanguine will animate his carnations, love vivacity and
brilliancy, and his tints be in danger of approaching the
brick. It is notorious, that certain diseases aifect the ap-
pearances of colours to the eye, and perhaps the principles-
of such diseases, though latent, may be influential.

The principles of colouring are, (i.) veracity, (ii.)

FORCE, (in.) GRADATION, Or KEEPING, (iV.) HARAIONY

or UNION. W-racitv is so necessary, that without it all is
confusion 3 green bricks, red turf, black snow, white jet,

X 2 are

6o COL

are but the extremes of departure from veracity. No rules
can be adequate to direction on this head ; the only guide is.
Nature. Force is the result of artful combination and tna.-
nagemerit; whereby the principal objects in a composition,
are distinguished, brought forward, and displayed to advan^
tage, by vigorous colours, , by happy touches well supported.
Gradation of colours, is not only necessary as a part of
aerial perspective, but also as a principle whereby the strong
and powerful colours are placed where the principal effect
ought to fall, not in those accessory parts which ought to be^
kept down and moderated : the placing of colours should
correspond to the application of chiaro oscuro. Union of
colours is the result of a judicious selection, arrangement,
and situation of the colours in a piece.

It should seem that the plan of conducting the principles
of a picture is pretty similar in most of its branches: sup-
posing, for instance, the effect be desired in the centre;
the centre, therefore, must be the seat of the strongest light
and shadow ; the centre also must be the seat of the strongest
colours,, the strongest force, the strongest veracity, and, in
short, of whatever may render it conspicuous: from this, as
from a fixed point, must be gradated every principle; the
light weakens, the colours also weaken ; but as the light
catches here and there, revives and shines, but always in sub-
ordination, so may the principal colour revive in weakened
tints; not indeed to near akin to the centre as brothers and
sisters, yet related, as in the family, anil connected, as
friends.

The means employable to attain these eflects, are sympa-
thy and aiilipalhy among the colours, whereby their true
value is fixed. Sympathetic colours, /. e. colours allied in
their tone, as brown, t<} dark-red, &.c. may contribute to
union, but they exclude variety. Colours opposite in their

tones.

COL 61

tones, as blue and red, contribute to force and variety, but
are void of union. The effect of any colour cannot be
known till its neighbours are Inserted ; a pale red shall be
overpowered by a deeper; while by a deep blue it shall be
strengthened. This comparative appearance of colours is
denominated their value.

To complete a well-coloured picture, it should be \VAR^f
and MELLOW J by the first is meant, a certain moderated
resemblance to the effect of sun-light ; which being always
yellowish, and more or less glowing, indicates that choice
of colours, as allied to warmth ; if we consider yellow as
warm, green is not so warm, because it approaches to blue;
uhich is the coldest of ail colours, and by this property is
the most difficult colour to introduce and manage : yet may
not be omitted, as it Is the source of variety and opposition.
Mellowness must regulate warmth, not permitting a positive
yellow; that would be raw and offensive; yet yellowish:
not a staring red, but reddish.

The following remarks are a translation from the French :

" The art of colouring is much more difficult than is
usually supposed ; since during three hundred years, that
painting has been revived, hardly more than eight or tenmas-
ters have been excellent colourists. Perhaps, also, the in-
finite variety included in the necessary objects and models of
study, precludes the establishment of rules and directions
on this art.

^' Shall we inquire if Titian had better eyes than others?
Or had he formed to himself superior rules ? If by rules he
attained his merit, may not those who tread in his steps de-
rive great advantages from the study of his works, from at-
tentive and judicious observations on them ? [In order to
ascertain what those rules were, and to determine their in-
fluence and veracity.] But for this effect is requisite an at-

4 ten live

62 COL

teniive disposition of mind, and an aptitude to penetrate the
true causes of those effects we admire. How many painters
have copied Titian many years, seemingly with their ut-
most abihties, who yet have never understood the skill and
deJicacy of the colouring in this great master ! The painter
born for the art flies with his own wings, and liberates him-
self from bad habits ; but it must be acknowledged, that
a great master is no less rare than a great hero, his natural
genius having to surmount all obstacles.

" The truth of colouring consists not in giving to objects
precisely the true and exact colour they possess in nature,
but to contrive so, that they shall seem to have it; because,
artificial colours not possessing the strength and truth of
those in nature, the painter's must be rendered equal, by
comparison between themselves ; whether by weakening
some, or by strengthening others.

** The artist who wishes to imitate the colours of nature,
should vary his colouring according to the subject, to the
time of day, the moment of action, the scene of the pic-
ture ; for the whole tone of the piece ought to agree with the
action. If the subject be joyful, let the colouring be gay;
but, melancholy and sombre, if the subj'ct be terrible, or
afflictive.

** Although it may be admitted gcncruHv that a painter
is master of his effects; and that, like a musician who plays
a solo, he may give what pitch he pleases to his instrument,
yet it is equally true that painters (especially landscape-
painters) ought to adhere to certain rules independent of
tlieir caprice. The time of the dav, morning, evening;
clear weather, or rainy; fog, or sunshine; do not present
the same tone of colours in the same objects, but vary their
brilliancy and splendour. The more serene is the weather,
the clearer and brighter are colours ; rainv and hazy weather

deprives

COL 63

«icprlves them of ihclr force. When evening approac^ies,
all nature seems to feel very sensiblv the absence of ihe sun,
and, as if it regretted the parting, its colours become feeble
and languid ; they vanish with him, revive at his return,
and augment as he approaches his zenith.

*' It is always to be observed, thai a room, or a vestibule,
requires for the pictures it is to contain, a colouring adapted
to the light they are expected to receive, and diflerent from
the force of those exposed in open air.

*' When we say that the whole tone of colours ought to
agree with the action, and partake of the reigning colour ol
the principals, we mean not to exclude that well-managed
variety of other colours, without which a picture is merely
a chiaro oscuro. A sky uniformlvbluc throughout, pleases
much less than if diversified by flying cloud;-, or the rays of
the setting sun. Neither is it in a lawlcs.'^ introduction of
different colours, that consists the beauty of colouring as a
composition, but in their just distribution, guided by the
knowledge of their relations, and of their mutual support.
The beauty of objects considered separately, depends much
on the breaking of the colours, so that by this mixture, and
the just and pleasing distribution of a masterly hand, a paint-
ed stone, for instance, should resemble a natural stone; the
carnations should appear real flesh, accorduig to the ages
and sexes of the figures ; and. in short, not only that each
object should imitate its original in nature, but also that tlie
whole together should produce an agreeable union, and a
dclightfuf harmony."

In colouring, as in proportion, an artist should always
select the most beautiful and perfect examples of nature :
but then these examples must be characteristic: the tints of
youth apply not to old age; nor the vigour of health, to
the decrepitude of disease.

Cclourins

64 COL

Colouring In large works, requires more force, greaier
depth, and opposition, than in smaller works, and than
nature in fact possesses; since otherwise, at the distance
necessary for the inspection of such works, they would be-
come flat and enervated.

The sentiments and remarks of Sir Joshua Reynolds
on this important branch of art, cannot fail of being ac*
ceptable to our readers.

" All the modes of harmony, or of producing that efll^cl
of colours which is required in a picture, may be reduced
to three, two of which belong to the grand style, and the
other to the ornamental.

*' The first may be called the Roman manner, where the
colours are of a fidl and strong body, such as are found in
the Transfiguration ; the next is that harmony which is pro-
duced by what the ancients called the corruption of the co-
lours, by mixing and breaking them till there is a general
union in the whole, without any thing that shall bring to
your remembrance the painter's pallette, or the original co-
lours : this may be called the Bolognian style ; and it is this
hue and effect of colours which Ludovico Caracci seems to
have endeavoured to produce, though he did not carry it to
that perfection which we have seen since his time in the
small works of the Dutch school, particularly in Jan Steen,
where art is completely concealed, and the painter, like a
great orator, never draws the attention from the subject on
himself.

"The last manner belongs properly to the ornajmental style,
which we call the Venetian, where it was first practised, but
is, perhaps, better learned from Rubens : here the brightest
colours possible are admitted, with the two extremes of
warm and cold, and those reconciled by being dispersed ovei*
the picture, till the whole appears like a bunch of flowers.

<« As-

COL 65

** As I have given instances from the Dutch school, where
the art of breaking colours may be learned, v.e may recom-
mend here an attention to the works of Watteau for excel-
lence in this florid style of painting.

" To all these diflerent manners, there are some general
rules that must never be neglected; first, tliat the same co-
lour, which makes the largest mass, be difiused and appear
to revive in different parts of the picture, for a single colour
will make a spot or blot : even the dispersed flesh-colour,
wliich the faces and hands make, require their principal mass,
which is best produced by a naked figure; but where the
subject will not allow of this, a drapery approaching to flesh-
colour will answer the purpose; as in the Transfiguration,
where a woman is clothed in drapery of this colour, which
makes a principal to all the heads and hands of the picture;
and, for the sake of harmony, the colours, however distin-
guished in their lights, should be nearly the same in their

shadows, of a

-" Simple unity of shade,

As all were from one single palette spread."

And to give the utmost force, strength, and solidity to your
work, some part of the picture should be as light and some
as dark as possible ; these two extremes are then to be har-
monized and reconciled to each other.

" Instances where both of them are used may be observed
in two pictures of Rubens, which are equally eminent for
the force and brilliancy of their cfiect ; one is in the cabinet
of the Duke of Rutland, and the other in the chapel of
Rubens at Antwerp, which serves as his monument. In
both these pictures he has introduced a female figure dressed
in black satin, the shadows of which are as dark as pure

DiCT. Edit. 7. K black,

66 COL

black, opposed to the contrary extreme of brightness, can
make them.

** If to these different manners \vc add one more, that in
which a silver-grey or pearly tint is predominant, I believe
-every kind of harmony that can be produced by colours
will be comprehended. One of the greatest examples in
this mode is the famous Marriage at Cana, in St. George's
church at Venice, where the sky, which makes a very
considerable part of the picture, is of the lightest blue co-
lour, and the clouds perfectly white : the rest of the picture
is in the same key, wrought from this high pitch. We see
likewise many pictures of Guido in this tint ; and indeed
those that are so are in his best manner. Female figures,
angels, and children, were the subjects in which Guido
more particularly succeeded ; and to such the cleanness and
neatness of this tint perfectly corresponds, and contributes
not a little to that exquisite beauty and delicacy which so
much distinguishes his works. To see this style in perfec-
tion, we must again have recourse to the Dutch school,
particularly to the works of the younger Vandevelde, and
the younger Teniers, whose pictures are valued by the con-
noisseurs in proportion as they possess this excellence of a
silver tint. Which of these different styles ought to be
preferred, so as to meet every man's idea, would be difficult
to determine, from the predilection which every man has
to that mode which is practised by the school in which he
has been educated ; but if any pre-eminence is to be given,
it must be to that manner which stands in the highest esti-
mation with mankind in general, and that is the Venetian,
or rather the manner of Titian, which, simply considered
as producing an effect of colours, will certainly eclipse,
with its splendour, whatever is brought into competition
with it: but, as I hinted before, if female delicacy and

2 beauty

COM 6)bi

beauty be the principal object of the painter's aim, the
purity and clearness of the tint of Guido will correspond
better, and more contribute to produce it than even the
glowing tint of Titian.

*' The rarity of excellence in any of these styles of colour-
ing sufficiently shews the difficulty of succeeding in them.
It may be worth the artist's attention, while he is in this
pursuit, particularly to guard against those errors which
seem to be annexed to, or thinly divided from., their neigh-
bouring excellence : thus, when .he is endeavouring to ac-
quire the Roman style, without great care he falls into a
hard and dry manner. The flowery colouring is nearly
allied to the gaudy effect of fan-painting. The simplicity
of the Bolognian style requires the nicest hand to preserve it
from insipidity. That of Titian, which may be called the
golden manner, when unskilfully managed, becoqies what
the painters call foxy; and the silver degenerate* into the
leaden and heavy manner. All of them, to be perfect in
their way, will not bear any union with each other ; if they
are not distinctly separated, the effect of the picture will
be feeble and insipid, without any mark or distinguished
character."

COLOURISTS is spoken of painters, who, according
to their success, are either good, indiffbrerit, or bad co-
Ipurists. The best colourists are usually thought to be
Titian, Corregio, Rubens, and Van Dyck.

COMPANIONS, are two pictures of the same size, and
representing subjects in some degree of the same nature : hi
landscape, however, it seems to be a kind of custom to
companionize subjects diametrically opposite. In the in-
stances of a storm and a calm.

COMPOSITION is the science of arranging and d\spo3-
K 3 ing

68 COM

ing secundum artem those objects which are proper to be
introduced and represented in painting, sculpture, See.

Composition is of the greatest consequence to the
beauty of a picture; it directs and regulates the ideas which
a painter ought to admit in his works, and consequently
those ideas which such works are intended to excite in the
spectator. If well directed and exerted, the performance
which possesses it is striking, vigorous, and attractive; it is
also pleasing and charming. If ill understood and mis-
employed, the other ingredients of the piece, how excel-
lent soever, occasion merely a confusion of ideas in the
spectator, corresponding to the jumble visible in the work.

When a subject is selected for representation, whatever
may enter into it, or form any part of it, ought to be well
understood, whether it be drawn from history, nature, or
fancy. The habitude of working does not teach taste or
discernment. Natural genius is equally proper to the
painter as to the poet : study must perfect genius, and
enable it to express itself; but genius does not originate in
study.

The different parts of a picture ought to form one whole,
one assemblage, which, by their relative correspondence to
each other, should impart satisfaction and pleasure. No-
thing should be the w ork of chance, or appear as if placed
■where it is by caprice ; but each object requires its place,
its relative and appropriate proportions, and each figure
should appear justly engaged in its office and situation ;
otherwise a picture is a mere confusion of objects.

At a certain distance, too great to distinguish the objects
particularly, or even to inspect their actions, the whole of
a picture shoqld appear an agreeable collection of masses,
lights, and shadows, whose forms, and their relations, of
whatever nature they may be, please, and as it were regale

the

COM 69

the eye; the effect^ as well of colouring as of other prin-
ciples, presenting an agreeable and engaging aspect.

The great masses cannot produce this eficct, except as
they are judiciously subdivided and varied In their parts.

Whatever be the subject treated, it admits only one point
of time for the action ; and all that a painter includes in
his picture ought to conduce to the represenlation of this
very instant; whatever relates to actions past, or future,
except as it elucidates or augments the present, is so far an
infringement on the laws of composition.

Every action furnishes divers instants. The artist must
choose the most favourable and interesting, according to
the rules of art ; for although the most pathetic may be, in
recital, the most interesting and striking, yet it may be
void of those necessary groupes, distributions, characters,
and effects, which are indispensable to a good picture.

The unity of action forbids the admission o^ two instants
which may divide the attention of the spectator, and which,
by offering two principals, suffer neither to be principal :
for, so much attention as is gained by the second, is infal-
libly lost to the first ; consequently the main object proposed
by the whole plan, is vacated and destroyed.

This rule is not to be understood as forbidding the intro-
duction of circumstances, or of objects, whose relation to
the business in hand is immediate and intimate, and whose
omission would render any part of the main action unintel-
ligible or obscure.

The consideration of this unity should render painters
very scrupulous in the choice of episodes and accessories.
If introduced only for ornament, they are often worse than
useless ; or if they are not well kept down, they become
great defects, and the greater, the more they are in their
nature interesting.

Jo CO M

It is true there are also subjects wherein the strictness of
rule may be moderated to a certain degree ; such are those
whose expressions are necessarily varied or mixed j where
different passions shew themselves in different persons : yet
here the action is one, taken by itself, however diversified
may be its natural effects on the parties concerned in it. This
diversity, however, must be such as would naturally arise
from the subject ; so that on examination of any one ex-
pression, it should prove to be an immediate offspring of the
principal action ; as all the expressions united should the
more strongly, because of their variety, enforce the prin-
cipal idea of the piece. Such subjects arc always sufficiently
fertile in themselves, without needing assistance from epi-
sodes of any kind. The variation of attitudes, of characters,
of groupes, may freely be consulted, yet always with a view
to the unity of action, never admitting figures to lety use-
less circumstances, or any distracting cause whatever.

Unity of place is not less necessary. A painter is not at
liberty to vary, or suppose the scene at his fancy ; nor to
represent in a landscape what the history relates as passing
in an apartment ; add to this, that having introduced a
vestibule, or apartment, he ought by all means to avoid
objects which might attract the eye out of it. In fact,
character and propriety must regulate the whole ; even the
decoration of his composition is not left to his caprice : a
hut, a cottage, admit not of colonnades or gilded turrets j
nor is it fit that a royal palace should seem the dwelling
of boors, or appear equally littered and disordered as a
mews.

In every composition some figures are more important
than others j some are principals, others subordinates : every
object ought to be treated and distinguished according to
its necessity and importance, in correspondence to which

COM 71

it is supposed to raise an interest in the spectator; but it
would be an exceedingly vicious extreme to enforce this dis-
tinction too rigidly : it would interrupt the harmony of the
subject, deprive the artist of his liberty, and shackle the
most intelligent genius. The management of the colours
must contribute to render the principal groupe and the prin-
cipal fi2;ure more evident. A.s to the grouping of the
figures, the subordinate must yield to the more important;
and although the whole together must form but one subject,
every part of which is strongly allied to its relative parts,
yet each must contribute to the principalness (so to term it)
of the principal.

It is highly improper to plant figures in lines ; or, in a
groupe, to represent every person who contributes to com-
pose it as of equal height, like a regiment of soldiers, whose
regularity is aUvays at enmity with composition; but how-
ever freely a groupe may seem assembled, let it never appear
without intelligence, proportion, and conduct.

It is not sufficient that a correspondence appears between
the groupes which form a composition, unless variety be
superadded to it : too great uniformity in the attitudes of
members, and of figures, renders such figures cold and un-
pleasing. Contrast must animate and revive them. Con-
trast, therefore, figures against figures, members against
members, groupes against groupes ; vary the positions, nor
let the legs and arms form parallel lines. An upright figure
is contrasted by a figure reclining; a figure seen in front,
by another seen behind ; an arm, or a leg, seen on the
•inside, is contrasted by others seen on the outside. What-
ever conduces to variety (if the subject require extensive
variety) is acceptable ; but admit not constraint into the
contrast ; nature does not admit it ; and nature is to be fol-
lowed as closely as may be, for even the greatest exertions

72 COM

of art arc but accurate and regulated imitations of nature.
In the greatest mob that ever was assembled, and animated
also with the same passions and motives, a verv evident
difference is maintained throughout all persons in it; their
attitudes are not the same, though they mean and relate to
the same thing j but each has his peculiar turn of gesture,
situation as to the spectator, front, back, sideways, &c.
together with his character of figure, tall, short, &cc. and
other peculia.

If the subject require many figures standing, they must
be varied by ingenious airs of their heads or other parts.

Contrast also extends itself to the masses, which ought
not to be of the same form, the same size, the same colour,
or the same light. One of the most important and indis-
pensable branches of composition, is perspicuity with re-
gard to the action represented : no doubt should be permit-
ted on this article. It is disagreeable to torture the mind
by guessing at the fact ; the recollection, or conception how
such a scene might pass, should be amply sufficient to in-
form the spectator on the subject of the piece.

It has been the custom of some artists (who have sup-
posed that thereby they deeply studied their compositions)
to seek materials from their port-folios; they collect figures,
or parts, heads, 8cc. and combining them, they form as it
were a dress of motley ; uniting irrelative articles, to form
what ought to be intimately correspondent; whereas no
selection, even of studies from nature, can supply the in-
gredients necessary to a composition ; and a dependence
upon them will debilitate even genius itself, and render
languid, if not frivolous, the best design. This remark is
not meant to depreciate the value of studies from nature;
they are necessary to impart a precision and veracity, a
force and finishing to a composition after it is adjusted j but

should

COM 7^

should form no part of the ideal plan of treatment and con-
duct of anv piece.

Nor arc former studies, remarks, accounts, and informa-
tions, to be dispensed with on the article Costume, to the
just observation of which, every intelligence that can be
procured is useful. Every figure should appear habited ac-
cording to the manner of its country, and the time and
occasion of the subject : a Chinese should not appear
dressed like a European, nor an American Indian like a
Turk.

If the laws of composition may be relaxed, it is in sub-
jects where allegory forms part of the representation ; but,
however allegory may claim a latitude, as well in painting
as in poetry, yet the utmost care should be taken to guard
against licentiousness. Immemorial usao-c has siven a kind
of authenticity to certain personifications to which novelties
have no pretensions ; and because by their very nature they
are not a little ambiguous, they contribute by their ambi-
guity to obscure what otherwise might be very distinct and
explicit.

Painting may imitate poetry in genius, style, fire, and
expression ; but although, by Horace's rale, both are per-
mitted to include in their compositions certain liberties and
additions,

( Pictor'ibus at que Poet is,

^idlibet audendi iemper fu'it ^equa potestas,)

yet great circumspection should be maintained not to alxise
the privilege.

The principles of composition seem to be (i.) Invention,
which selects the subject, and the objects which ought to
be treated as relative to it. (ii.) Disposition, which re-
gulates the places of the objects accoiding to their import-

D;CT. Edit. 7. l ancc —

74 C O ISI

ance — to their picturesque appearance — to the variety re-
sulting from them — assembling the principal groupes — or
dispersing the smaller, (m.) Propriety as to charactv;r —
scenery — and accessories, (iv.) Effkct : of colours — (>f
chiaro oscuro — together with effects, general, and pa'-ti-
cular. (v.) Costume, and (vi.) Intelligence, or Per-
SPicuiTV, in relating the fact and treating its depend-
encies.

A RICH composition is that which possesses taste, ordon-
nance, fecundity, which attracts the spectator by its beauty
and merit. True richness of composition arises not from a
multitude of figures or objects, but from its powers of
imparting to the spectator a muliitude of ideas, or one
leading idea, in so forcible a manner that it shall produce
many ideas.

A BEAUTIFUL composition, is that wherein every object
Is so happily situated, the groupes so well contrasted, the
airs and attitudes of the figures so properly varied, and
the whole so a-propos, as evinces the skill and conduct of
the master.

A LOADED composition abounds in too many objects ;
they are too numerous, and multiplied. A scarcity of ob-
jects, on the contrary, impoverishes a composition.

An EXTRAVAGANT Composition offers forced attitudes,
unnatural forms, false disposition, &c. : these arc to be
anxiously avoided, as are ?,11 compositions that -dvc forced,
cold, confused, or irregular.

COMPOSITION or Preparation for painting on walls,
is a name given to a mixture of Greek pitch, mastic, and
coarse varnish, boiled together in an earthen pot : it is ap-
plied with a brush, on walls designed to be painted in oil,
and is afterwards smoothed with a hot trowel, whereby it
answers the purposes of a priming. Some use two or three
5 coats

CON 75

coats of oil, boHing hot, and prime with earthy colours,
such as the okers, &c. Others make their composition of
lime, and marble powder, which they saturate with linseed
oil, after its being well struck on the wall with the trowel :
when these coatings are thoroughly dry, they are sometimes
ac;ain primed. It is evident this preparation answers the
purpose o^ fresco, which is a very troublesome manner o^
painting.

CONNOISSEUR, should signify a person whose know-
ledge in the principles of art, and their application, enables
him to form a determinate judgment on «uch performances
as pass under his survey.

Many persons pass for Connoisseurs^ who by no means
deserve the appellation : they are perhaps sufficiently in-
formed to distinguish the manners of certain masters, or^
perhaps, to arraign the detail of a work ; but are not blessed
with that extensive information, that various science, and
that enlarged apprehension, which may enable them ade-
quately to enter into, as it were, the principles of the art,
and of the artist,

CONTORSION is expressive of attitudes, or features*
whose representations are bevond the truth of nature. With
regard to attitudes, to strain them, or so extremely to con-
trast the position of their members, as to contort them, i^J
a principal offence against the justice and truth of design ;
althoughj perhapSj such attitudes may be possible to the
human figure. As to the parts of the countenance, those
persons who endeavour to render expression remarkably
sensible and vigorous, are in the greatest danger of con-
torsion ; whose efl'ect is so closely allied to the ridiculous,
as to need little more exaggeration to complete the carica-
tura.

CONTOUR is significative of the same as outline,
I. 1 and

7^ CON

and expresses those apparent lines which define the super-
ficies of a figure; those which terminate its dimensions. Con-
tours should not be hard, dry, or stiff; they should not be
every where equally perceptible, but should be softened,
melted, and harmoniously declined into the surrounding
parts ; except in such places where distinctness is requisite,
and which require certainty and force. The grace of Con-
tours depends much on a certain wavingness : a gliding,
flowing, regular, unbroken (i. e. void of sharp and dis-
agreeable angles), easy appearance, has a good effect. They
ought to be continued, or lengthened (i. e. not sudden or
harsh), to avoid too many pieces. Care however is requisite,
that in giving the member a gliding outline, the anatomy is
not injured, nor the bones dislocated. This rule is of indis-
pensable consequence to figures standing on one foot only.

CONSTRAINT is spoken of a piece whose treatment is
not firm, bold, and determined, but which shews that the
hand which produced it, was under doubt and fear. A
drawing, for instance, which is copied, almost always shews
constraint, and thereby is distinguishable from an original,
even without being compared.

A figure is constrained when its attitude is not easy and
natural.

CONTRAST signifies, in painting, a variety, a dissimi-
larity of objects, of colours, of forms, of attitudes, and
of members : always supposing each contrasting part to
contribute its share to the general welfare, the taste, beauty,
and nature of the piece.

The various disposition of objects, produces contrast in
the groupes : for instance, if three figures are assembled, one
is seen behind, another before, the third on one side : each
figure should avoid being a repetition of any other in the
same groupe, but should contrast its companions, and each

croupe

COP 77

groupe should contrast the other groupes in the same piece.
Contrast requires also a diftbrence among the colours of
groupes, and the objects which compose them. A single
colour may sometimes permit contrast, if it be capable of
bright lights and of deep shadows : or if pale in one object,
and dark in others.

A figure is said to be well contrasted, when its attitude
offers an opposition of members, varying their directions,
and effects, their disposition, and their appearances.

COPY is a repetition of a picture, sculpture, engraving,
or drawing. That which serves to be copied, is called the
ORIGINAL, if it be not itself a copy, but especially if it be
a study, whether ideal or from nature : which seems to be
the reason why we say, taken from nature, or a study from
nature, rather than a copy from nature.

The source of ideas in an original is nature : art cannot \

equal this advantage : yet from the imperfect productions of
art, are copies made. In an original all is clear ; it permits
the most free and liberal employment of attitude, colouring,
touch, disposition, &c. ; but in copying, these articles being
already prepared, and merely to be imitated accurately, the
mind is constrained, confined, and limited, which prevents
the work from possessing that spirit which appears in an
original. Even the same hand which produced the first, is
fatigued, and wearied, when about the second. Or if the
copyist be of superior skill to the author of the original, he
will not equal that original, because the hand constantly
falls short of the conceptions of the mind. Indeed a mas-
ter seldom takes the trouble of copying; it is usually the
employment of ordinary abilities.

Sometimes however it happens, when a middling painter
has started a happy thought, which by poverty of expression,

?8 COP

or otherwise, is inadequately rendered, that a copy shall
surpass such an original, if a great master avails himself of
the same thought, and completes it by the embellishment
and conduct of his superior abilities, adding to it beauties
it did not possess.

Certain painters have copied pictures so exactly, that the
greatest connoisseurs have been embarrassed, if not deceived,
in distinguishing the copy from the original. Collectors of
pictures should therefore be careful in purchasing, especially
pictures said to be of the Italian masters, because they huve
been very often copied with the greatest resemblance and
address : and many of these copies being old, have acquired
an additional likeness by their ao^e.

Even if in copying, the copyist does not confine himseJf
minutely to every trait of his original ; yet a copy is but a
copy, though rot servile, as a translation from an ori-
ginal treatise, though not literal, is but a translation.

Certain pieces seem to be equivocal, neither copies nor
originals ; when, for example, in treating his subject, the
painter uses the thoughts and figures of a preceding master,
among those of his own invention. And yet it sometimes
happens, that a part, or parts, of a composition shall re-
semble a former^ merely by memory, and without design ;
or by accident, as nature may repeat such or such an effect.
Heads, for instance, may resemble certain of Raphaelle^
simply because the same character being treated, requires
corresponding traits. Moreover, I do not see wherefore a
icmarkably fine and applicable character, should not be as
rcadilv permitted in painting, as an applicable quotation in
writing. If indeed an author borrows throughout, set him
down for a plagiary ; but if he modestly insert the words of
ajw^her, instead of his own which he supposes inferior, let

him

€ p P 79

him be thought laudable, rather than blameable. For if
cither painter, or writer, is to be carped at for every Hue not
strictly original, they may well exclaim,

Perearit qui ante nos nostra dixertint !

Nor perhaps are the very principles of their arts independent
of repetition. When a painter is to represent an object he
cannot have before him in nature (suppose a lion), he must
procure the best possible authority for the article ; and if he
i^ucceecls from such information, let him have his praise,
though a picture from nature may be superior, or more cor-
rect : in such a case an artist must use the labours of thoie
who have preceded him ; and wherefore an arlisl should not
study his subject, by perusing the conceptions of his prede-
cessors, as well as an author docs by perusing the writings of
others pn his subject, does not appear. It is the constant
repetition of the works of others uniier the profession cjf
originality, which contracts guilt.

A painter copies himself', when he repeats in his compo-
sitions what he had already produced: this is the first step
to the formation of a manner. Now as nature has no man-
ner, but is infinitely various, fertile, and prolific through-
out, so should be the mind, and consequently the works of
an artist. A. manner is the offspring of that imbecility of
jnind which is unable to pursue nature thoroughly, and
therefore rests satisfied with present attainments.

When a painter, to please his friends, or himself, copies
one of his compositions, and adds what ideas he thinks
proper for further improvement, are not such pictures equal
to his original ? Nor ought we to degrade those copies from
immense compositions on ceilings, &c. done in fresco,
jmd copied in oil : nor are drawings from pictures, or prints
from drawings, properly copies : the difference of the man-

8o COR

ner of operation being too great, and even many of their
principles as well as modes of workmanship, entirely distinct.

To COPY, is one mean for promoting the studies of those
not arrived at high degrees of skill : variety of nianners, of
styles, &c. is desirable, not only because each master
copied, has his manner of seeing nature, but also to accus-
tom the student to facility, and to avoid as much as may be
his acquiring a settled and prejudicial manner.

COPYIST is spoken of painters, &c. who do not com-
pose works of their own invention, but repeat those of
others. However accurate and perfect such works may be,
a Copyist is not usually reckoned among good masters : be-
cause the first and most ingenious parts of his art are not
introduced into his practice.

CORNU-COPIA, or Horn of Plenty, is an orna-
ment of painting and sculpture, whose application is de-
ri-ved from the ancients : it is used as an attribute or indi-
cation of abundance, and is given to Ceres, to certain river-
gods, as the Nile, Sec. It is a kind of horn, twisted
spirally, increasing continually in width, and from its
opening pouring out fruits, flowers, and other precious pro-
ductions of nature or of art.

CORRECTNLISS is usually spoken of Design, but may
without offence be applied to other branches of art ; colour-
ing, for instance, requires correctness no less than design ;
and it seems not irrelative to say, such or such objects are
correctly (or incorrectly) coloured. But in general, Design
is regarded as correct, or otherwise. Correctness consists
in the accuracy of the proportions, in the truth of the
contours, and rounding parts, of figures 5 and in their eflects
as to lights and shadows.

To correct design, the assistance of anatomy is indis-
pensable : the human body (in which principally correctness

COS 8i

is criticized) being capable of great variety of motions, and
consequently of effects, insomuch as to require frequent
appeals to nature, and that of a good choice. It is a great
drawback on the merits of a master, to call him incorrect :
yet to this censure even Titian must submit, however ex-
cellent in colouring. What had been his merit, had he
equalled Raphaelle in correctness !

The scat of correctness is the Eye : mathematical preci-
sion and measurements are inadequate to correctness j be-
cause foreshortening destroys their application. To have
the Eve well skilled, is a capital advantage ; but not to be
acquired without continued assiduity.

CORRIDOR, a gallery or passage in large buildings,
which leads to distant apartments.

COSTUME is an Italian term, adopted among artists,
expressing the conformity of a representation of any fact,
to the fact itself, as related, or as, upon the best author! ty>
it may be supposed to have really happened. This confor-
mity extends to the manners of the times, the characters of
the persons, the dresses, and accoutrements, the customs
of the places, the buildings, and style of architecture, the
animals, the national taste, riches, or poverty, and to
whatever else is appropriate to the action treated.

Tlie manners of the times are only to be understood from
historic relations, or remains of past ages; which demon-
strates that no little taste for study ought to animate the
historic artist. The characters of the principal personages
of the piece must be drawn from the same source, always
with an attention to general nature, and not without consult-
ing the prevailing ideas of those who are to survey the pic-
ture, since there are many articles (on the subject of morale,
8cc.) wherein the moderns so widely diifer from the ancients,
as to forbid their introduction ; perhaps totally, but cer-

DiCT. Edit. 7. M tainly

82 COS

tainly in their full force as an ancient might have treated
them.

When no historic authority exists, or is procurable, the
artist is more at liberty to indulge his invention ; but he
must by no means imitate such objects as are familiar to
the spectator ; since if he does, he will hardly persuade
him that the scene of the picture is remote, while it con-
tains objects at hand : it will seem at most a theatrical imi-
tation of such a story, not an historic relation of it.

It has been debated, whether the costume should be
strictly attended to in portraits. It is urged against it, that
however the fashion of the times may favour the mode, yet
in itself it may be ungraceful j that when it is out of fashion
it will appear awkward, perhaps be thought hideous; and
that posterity may well be satisfied without it. On the
other hand, it is well known how much this fidelity con-
tributes to resemblance of the wearer ; it becomes historical
to after-times; there is no certain universal and permanent
costume, except in habits of office, or as distinguishing
badges of certain societies ; if the persons represented are
not above wearing such dresses, why should they decline to
appear in them in distant times ? As to the extreme, or
pink of the mode, be it remembered that not persons of
sense, but fribbles only require it — transmit them to poste-
rity as fribbles, and welcome ; but to persons of under-
standing, a certain general resemblance of their dress, Sec.
is sufficient ; which not only allows a likeness that may last
many years, but also permits to the artist a more . agreeable
and picturesque disposition of its parts. As to the idea of
antique dresses, armour. See. it seems ridiculous. What !
a portrait for the inspection pf a man's nearest friends, so
treated that they may not discover the likeness, and for the

sake

C R A 83

sake of spectators many years afterwards, that they may not
discover the unllkcness !

In sculpture, indeed., which cannot by the artifice of
light and shadow conceal the offensive pecuharities of dress,
much Uberty mav be allowed. To be satisfied that here the
mode must be very greatly moderated, if not quitted, we
need only survey a few tombs, whose effigies are surrounded
\\ ith the once fashionable full-bottomed wigs ; their un-
couth appearances shock the principles of art, and create
a wish that the sculptor had employed less marble and more
skill.

After all, if a portrait of a Turk were transmitted to
England, how should we ascertain it to be a Turk without
the costume ? the tin-ban, See. Or a mandarin of China,
how should we distinguish him without his hat and in-
signia ? And if distant contemporaries would remain igno-
rant without such information, why should we not accom-
modate posterior compatriots with the same advantages ?

CRADLE is a name given to a tool used in Metzotlnto,
which is rocked, as it were, backward and forward in laying
of metzotinto grounds : ,its front edge is circular, that it
may more readily move,, without leaving those unequal
markings which might arise from corners. The face of this
tool is cut by a number of deep lines, all parallel and true,
which run down to its circular front edge; this edge beino*
whetted, with a bias toward the back edge, becomes very
sharp, and the lines engraved on it produce a number of
teeth or points, which, when pressed on the copper-plate
in working, raise a burVf and by many repetitions produce
a uniform black ground all over the plate.

Cradles are made of several sizes; the larger for primary
grounds, the lesser for retouching places that have been too
much scraped away.

M 2 CRITICISM.

84 C R I

CRITICISM. " It is certain the improvement of art
is the result of long-continued observation and remark on
its productions, compared with those originals which are
subjects of imitation. The works of nature are first seen,
as it were, grossly, then more distinctly, and, by degrees,
the comparison of one with another, and just reflection
upon them, improve the genius, and form the taste of an
artist.

^' From a habit of exercising his attention on objects
around him, an artist generally discerns with more accuracy
than others their distinct and peculiar characters; but as
variety is endless, it is impossible even unremitted study
should attain an exact knowledge of every property in every
subject he is required to treat.

" It is a well-known story of Apelles, that having
finished a capital picture, he exposed it to public observa-
tion, concealing himself beliind it, that he might profit by
the remarks it occasioned. A cobler very justly complained
of an error in the sandal ; Apelles altered it. The next
day the cobler, finding his former criticism had been at-
tended to, thought proper to censure the drawing of a
leg; Apelles answered him with that expression which
afterwards became a proverb, ' Let not the cobler go be-
' yond his last.'

*' I allude to this story, because I think it may furnish
an observation or two on the present subject. Artists in
general are too shy of asking opinion and advice from
others, who, being unbiassed spectators, might perhaps
discover some inipropriety which the artist himself over-
looks from a constant inspection of his work. It is true,
such remarks are not always of importance, but if they
sometimes deserve attention, even that is profit; nor are
those remarks always useless which at fvrst sight appear to

C R I 8s

be so; at least they let us into the manner of thinking of
those who are unconfined by the rules of art.

" Another observatSun I mean to raise from the beha-
viour of the coblcr. I fear not a few who take upon them
to deliver their sentiments very freely are by no means
adepts in the principles of art. I have admitted that an
unlearned eye may perceive blemishes ; I admit still further,
that as persons in general may distinguish discord from
harmony without skill in music, so they may likewise
judge with propriety, even capital works of art : but as it
would be ridiculous to require a musician to insert no dis-
cords into his works ; so to forbid an artist the use of such
or such proportions, colours, or management, would be
very arbitrary and absurd.

" I entreat the critics, in the first place, to be certam
the principles they have adopted are just; to reflect, that, if
they are just, perhaps they may not be indispensable; and
though proper and necessary in general, whether their
omission in the present instance is not better than their
insertion, as thereby the artist may have * snatched a grace
* beyond the rules of art.'

** Will these gentlemen permit me to ask them, if they
have duly considered the importance of rumour and report
to an artist ? I persuade myself that personal motive has
no share in their observations ; but may not their auditors
form opinions of the works of a master from the ideas they
receive at such times ? and then perhaps they may consider
a very meritorious artist as a mere blockhead, because that
particular performance was not so happy as to please
Mr. Such-an-one.

'' Impressed with a sense of the importance of these
principles, I wish some able hand would compose such re»
gulations as might improve both art and the artist, might

regulate

86 C R 1

rejjulate the public taste, inform the judgment of indivi-
duals, and promote that liberality of sentiment which I
conceive to be of the utmost utility.

" I beg leave to offer, as a sketch for such a plan, the
following thoughts :

** I. For an artist to be offended with the remarks of the
public, or of an individual (when made with integrity), is
to suppose himself the only person in the world who enjoys
the gift of sight.

*' II. When an artist offers his piece to the inspection of
others, he should entreat them to impart their genuine sen-
timents ; for if they deceive him by forging an opinion (so
to express it), how should he profit by their remarks?

** III. If the opinion of others agrees not with his own,
it should put an artist on examination of his principles,
and the higher he can trace his ideas the better, lest, if they
should prove erroneous, he may continue subject to errors
issuing from the original source; but if they prove just, he
will feel the stronger satisfaction in his own mind.

*' IV. It is of consequence to an artist to know the
judgment of others upon his principles ; to attain this, he
should state them freely as proper occasions offer. When
it is perceived he works on serious reflection, he will at
least be considered as a man of sense, which very opinion
will usually supersede many frivolous criticisms on his per-
formances.

" V. When any one, with the coblcr, ventures beyond
his last, let the artist improve his patienc-o and good-humour
bv exercise, and not be dispirited by the ignorance or petu-
lance of the critic.

" VI. When a piece is presented to the inspection of a
judge, he should examine it with attention, lest a slight

4 glimpse!

C R I 87

glimpse may mortify the artist, and thereby contribute to
impede his advancement.

*' VII. A judicious critic will point out first the most
striking blemishes ; after having convinced the artist ot
their impropriety, he should descend, or rather ascend, to
smaller faults. If an artist cannot be convinced of great
mistakes, it is labour lost to mention smaller; if an artist
is sensible of considerable errors, there is hope he may
improve by attention to less material defects.

" VIII. Many unlearned persons are apt to think that nu-
merous small faults compose a large onej whereas, in fact,
there may be various trifling blemishes, which, though truly
blemishes, may not spoil the piece. Critics would do well
to notice only more apparent and obvious faults, in the pre-
sence of those who are ignorant.

" IX. When a judge has discovered what he thinks a
fault, let him consider in his mind whether the artist might
not have some sufficient (though latent) reason for that par-
ticular; whether, if he had omitted that, he must not have
inserted a grosser impropriety : if he has chosen the least
evil, he is entitled rather to commendation than to blame,
supposing them equally inevitable.

" X. The positive injunction of a patron, the want of a
sufficient reward, or injurious expedition (if unavoidable),
are not to be imputed to the artist as a fault.

*' Xl. In conmiending a work of art, a true critic shews
his skill ; not every one sees beauties which are, though
many see deformities which are not there : on this article
let judges speak freely, as being well assured it is of singular
importance; every artist is very sensibly affected bv praise.
A true judge will applaud what appears meritorious, inde-
pendent of the opinions of others, and will give his suffrage

accordingly :

88 CUP

accordingly : ' the applause of which one shall, in the
account of an artist, overweigh a whole theatre of others/

'^ XII. The language of the critic should be that of the
gentleman.

'* This, though an obvious remark, is not the least fre-
quently infringed ; whoever has attended to the conversation
of some denominated connoisseurs must be sensible of this ;
he cannot but have noticed the use of epithets which gen-
tlemen should by no means adopt."

The following anecdote (said to have happened at the
first exhibition in the great room of the Society for the
Encouragement of Arts, &:c.) may serve as a supplement
to the sentiments quoted above.

A connoisseur who hiid surveyed the pictures, &c. with
great contempt, turning to a flower-piece, exclaimed with
vehemence, in the usual connoisseur style, *' Vile 1 wretched !
paltry!" and so on; "and that filthy spot, I suppose,"
says he, " is meant for a fly ! that dab of dirt ! there, that
there !" when raising his cane to point it out more evidently,
the insect took to his wings for a speedy retreat.

CRUDE, is spoken of colours when they are not accu-
rately adjusted to their neighbours, but glare and shew
themselves improperly : they require moderation and lower-
ing, by breaking, glazing, Sec.

Crude is also spoken of outlines when they appear
careless and incorrect ; they require softening and har-
monizing.

A crude effect is a general want of union and harmony.

CUPOLA, a round roof or dome, in the form of an
inverted cup.

D E G S9

iyARKS are those shadows which, by being deprived of
lights, or of reflections, become strong, deep, and power-
ful : these should never appear among the lights, or lighter
parts : as for instance, among the folds of drapery which
cross the members, since, by their dissimilarity to the gene-
ral tone of their situation, they form canals and gashes
rather than folds. Their proper place is among the larger
divisions of the picture, and their ofiice is to enforce the
chiaro oscuro.

DECORATION may be taken in two senses j first, as
applied to decorative paintings, such as scenes in a theatre.
Sec. ; secondly, as referring to those accessories, ornaments,
or bye-works, as Gerard de Lairesse terms them, which
contribute to fill up and compose a piece. Among the first
classmay be included triumphal arches, catafalques, fountains,
fire-works, Sec. as well real as represented; also in sculp-
ture, statues, trophies, vases, Sec. The principles of the
second have already been incidentally noticed ; in general
they should be modest, i. e. without interference with the
main subject; but rather should be so related to it as to
perfect the design of it, to fill up what may be deficient ;
and, as they admit certain liberties^ these may and should
contribute allusively to the better understanding of the
history ; hinting, perhaps, at its origin, or at its conclu-
sion, 8e:c.

DEGRADATION, or Keeping, signifies the effect pro-
duced by the diminution of the force of lights and of sha-
dows ; of colours also, and of strength in the parts designed
to appear removed from the front ground of a piece. De-

DiCT. Edit. 7. N gradation

90 DEM

gradation Is absolutely necessary in the distances, and in
proportion to the Interval between object and object : it is
accomplished either by weakening the power of those re-
mote, or by strengthening the power of those nearer to the
eye. In drawings, a thinness of colour contributes to dis-
tance ; a solid body of colour contributes to the advance of
objects which are so treated. In engravings, finer, thinner,
weaker lines, placed closer together, contribute to express
distance; and grosser, stronger, and, as it were, more
solid work, contributes to bring forward the objects on
which it is employed.

DELICATE Pencil, Colouring, Finishing, &c. is,
when either of those parts of art is performed in a
fine, sweet, soft, and agreeable manner ; when the touches,
&c. without being too strongly marked, are true, natural,
and kindly managed.

DEMI-TINT is properly the tone of colour between the
lights and the darks, or the passage from light to shadow :
it is evident, therefore, that as it approaches more to either,
it partakes most of light or of shadow. The accuracy and
gradations of demi- tints are very principal ingredients in
harmony, and contribute greatlv to the relief of brighter or
of darker colours. The beauty of carnations depends very
much on the demi- tint, as without it no good flesh is to
be expected.

To succeed in this principle requires correct understanding
of chiaro oscuro, also of the quality of the colours
employed, and the effects they produce when broken : in
short, as full half a picture may be in demi- tint to advan-
tage, it is evident that judicious management of it is in-
dispensable; it prevents glare, contributes to breadth, and
to softness and fulness of effect. Extremes strike every one,
and are easily imitablc; bul the gradations of dcnii-tint are

only

D E S 9t

c:./ found in perfection in the best works of the best
:,TJ asters.

DFNTCLE, an ornament resembling teeth, used in Ionic
and Corinthian cornices.

DESCENT from the Cross, is a name given by dealers
in pictures, &cc. to works representing this part of the his-
tor}' of Christ : — but it not only includes representations of
the actual taking down of Christ from the cross, but also
after his body is supposed to have been taken down : often,
his head lying on the Virgin's lap, or bosom, and many other
supposed, or supposable incidents, till the period of his
being entombed — As there is no authority for these, gene-
rally speaking, we ought to distinguish between the repre-
sentation of the painter, and gospel history. To deprive
painters of some privileges, long enjoyed as liberties, would
be barbarous : but to tolerate some which they have adopted
ie little short of criminal.

DESIGN, by the various situations and directions of lines,
by their combinations, and union, represents figures of all
existent objects, their forms, and their contours. Design
is the basis of painting, sculpture, engraving, &c. which
without it would be merely a confusion of useless exertions.
The soul of the art, its energy, its expression, its truth,
is Design.

The principal parts of Design, are accuracy of propor-
tion, variety and appropriation of character ; truth, and
force of expression ; to complete the whole, grace.

Design, as it regards the practice, vide drawing.

DESIGNER, is a title given to those artists who com-
pose upon paper their subjects of whatever nature, finish-
ing them in chalks, washing, or tinting them lightly in
colours, Sec. The term is used to prevent their being con-
founded with painters, Sec. as designs are not to be con-

N 2 founded

92 D E T

founded with pictures. Most smaller engfravlngs which
ornament books, are copied from designs : and, in general,
as Design is the basis of painting, a design may be consi-
dered as an advance toward a picture, more or less com-
plete; as more or less finished, Sec.

In manufactories those are called designers who furnish
patterns for the workmen to imitate.

When it is said of any master, he is a great Designer^
it implies that he has thoroughly studied the forms of na-
ture, and has acquired an elevated, happy, and correct
manner of rendering them : so that not only the forms
are represented, but they are represented with facility,
liberty, and vigour, as well as truth and accuracy.

DETACHED is spoken of objects vihich, by their
distinctness from whatever forms their back grounds, seem
to advance before it ; they stand out from it, as it were,
and the interval between it and the object is evident. This
principle prevents confusion; but in extremes, introduces
hardness. In landscape the parts should be distinctly de-
tached, according to their situation, and the extent of the
prospect, yet witiiout cuttings, and harshnesses.

DETAIL signifies those smaller parts and trifling minui ice
of figures, &CC. which however important they may be to
the operations and functions of nature, yet with regard to
picturesque effect, are apt, if too much particularized, to
deprive the more noble parts of their just distinction. For
instance, we are well assured the eyelashes are useful, but
at that distance from a person at which we ought to survey
a picture, we should rather take for granted that he has
eyelashes, than be said to see them : and the same idea ap-
plies to a variety of minute articles.

Seduced by the desire of high finishing, it often happens
that an artist pays more attention to such insignificants

than

BIS 93

than they deserve ; but this is labour ill bestowed, and
might be prevented, by recollection of the simple proposi-
tion, that whatever in a picture, See. is heightened, imme-
diately lowers others, and destroys the equilibrium :
the heighteninffs therefore of details injure the nobler and
more important parts, occasion a dryness and sterility in
the piece, and indicate a petite genius, rather than a liberal
enthusiasm ; nor is it always that labour attains its proposed
effect : a few smart touches, well placed, and boldly ap-
plied, often hit better expression, &c. than all possible ex-
actness about trifles; to whose execution a bungler is
equal—

The meanest sculptor in the Emilian square

Can imitate in brass the nails and hair;

Expert at trifles, and a learned fool,

Able to work a part, but not compose a whole.

DIE is applied to all square, or cubic stones, or &c. whether
to such as form the body of a pedestal to a column, or such
as support a statue, flower- pot, &c. in gardens ; or are
adapted to other employments.

DIRTY is spoken of colours, when, by mixtures of
inimical pigments, the result is a disagreeable and heavy
compound. This fault is by all means to he avoided, espe-
cially in historical and portrait painting ; in landscape, almost
any colour may be used in some place or other, but simpli-
city, and clearness of tints, are ever desirable.

In repairing an old picture, it is often necessary to dirty
the colours, in order to match them more closely to the
faded and embrowned colours of the piece.

For the method of cleaning Dirty Pictures, vide the
Compendium of Colours.

DISCIPLE is equivalent to pupil j and signifies a stu-
dent

94 D n A

dent who has been taught the pnnclples of his art, by such
a master, whose disciple he is said to be.

DISPOSITION seems to be the effect of reflection, and
consideration, on those objects, of which the invention has
conceived -, directing each to occupy that place in the pic-
ture, which it may most justly challenge: it places the
actors on the scene, according to their importance j and it
exerts discretion, and sagacity, in the choice of parts, and
in managing their preconceived effects.

DISTANCE is the uttermost termination of a prospect:
it may also include parts approaching from that termination
towards ihe offscape. In landscape this is a very important
part ; in history-painting too extensive distances are apt to
injure the effect of the principal figures, by attracting and
dividing the spectator's attention.

DISTRIBUTION is in its principles not unlike Disposi-
tion J it may be taken, either as to the objects, or to the
lights of a piece. The distribution of groupes, their con-
trast, or sympathy, their forms, their strength, &c. is of
great concern. In each groupe, the situation of the figures,
those objects which connect or separate groupes, as well as
those relating the story, require accurate and perspicuous
distribution.

'j'hc distribution of light results from the chiaro oscuro,
whose principles have been noticed.

DOME, the spherical, or vaulted roof of a church, &c.

DRAPERY is a general term applied to all kinds of cloth-
ing, stuffs, 'ccQ. introduced by arlisis into their compo-
sitions.

Dkapkries ouglit to be conformable to the costume, to
the character represented, and to the appropriate appearance
cf each kind of manufacture.

D R A 95

Of the COSTUME we have treated, under Its proper arlicle.

Draperies should be conformable to the character of
their wearer ; they contribute very greatly to a distinct ex-
pression of it. When particular dresses are worn by certain
persons, as ministers, lawyers, officers, Sec. the costume
is the ruling principle ; but in general/ the draperies of a
magistrate ought to have noble, large, and majestic folds ;
their movements being slow, grave, and orderly, possessing
a dignity corresponding to the station of the wearer ; not
discomposed by levity, not fluttering, and agitated by the
2ephyrs, not transparent, and flimsy : while, on the con-
trary, the draperies of nymphs should not be heavy, and
cumbersome, but light, airy, easily put in motion, and
corresponding by their disposition to the action and charac-
ter represented.

How broad soever be the folds of drapery, they should
never so conceal the forms of the parts, and members be-
neath them, as to render undecided their just proportions :
but the nobler parts of the figure should have their influ-
ence on the drapery which covers them j imparting to the
folds their directions, and dimensions, insomuch that the
correctness of the naked, and its accuracy of form, should
present itself clearly to the spectator. — Nevertheless,

An extreme and rigorous observation of this precept, ill
understood, would produce the most unhappy consequences.
When it is directed to conform to the indications and effects
of the naked, it must be an object of constant attention'to
prevent the drapery from seeming to be pasted on it, or as
if it adhered to the person by any attractive power. Indeed,
in sculpture, this kind of drapery is tolerated ; because of
the excessive inconvenience attending ample and broad fold-
ings, which from the nature of the materials wrought
upon, would appear like so many rocks. Neither can sculp-
4 turc

96 D R A

ture adequately represent the dlfFerences of stuffs, and their
various superficies ; so that being confined to what it is capa-
ble of gracefully treating, it delights most in beauty of
form, and takes every occasion of introducing the naked.
Its draperies, therefore, are composed on this principle:
and whenever the naked can be rendered visible, there it
shall be represented. And because even the finest linen does
not adhere to the naked, the ancient sculptors made use of
tvet linen, that by its more immediate connexion with the
members, it might more perfectly express them, and per-
mit them to glimpse, as it were, through it. It is evident,
that this idea totally excludes all agitated and flying dra»
pevies, with whifch the Cavalier Bernini is reproached 5
and, when we consider, that, however delicately the chisel
may be worked, yet a mass of marble must remain^ its in-
competency to such objects appears beyond denial.

But, in painting the case is otherwise ; it admits a great-
ness, which results from amplitude of parts, and of this
amplitude the drapery may also participate ; the folds may
be large, but not so extensive as to weigh down the figure,
or to overload any part of it; or that it should appear
stifled by its drapery.

The folds should be so disposed, that the eye may with-
out hesitation follow their courses, and clearly distinguish
their principal parts and divisions. Small folds glisten too
much, and are too intricate, to produce a good eflect in
picture. Those painters who have too closely copied the
antique draperies, are apt to render their works hard, stiff",
poor, and thin ; little more animated than marble itself.

With regard to draperies adapted to portraits, it were to
be wished, that as well persons painted, as painters, were
sensible of the force of propriety, and decorum, in choosing
dresses correspondent to their situations, and characters :

hereby

D R A 97

hereby painters, in suiling their complexions, ages, profes-
sions, 8cc. with applicable draperies, would enhance the
merit of their works, and contribute to their perfection, by
that association and composition of parts, which is one
source of success.

Painters who employ their talents, in representing com-
mon incidents, and actions, ought in general to conform
their draperies to the reigning taste j yet so as to bestow on
each, the utmost grace of which it is capable, as well as
the greatest veracity. They possess infinite advantage in
having their originals always before their eyes, and being
able to consult nature at any time, and on all occasions ;
while the strict observance of the costume confines the
history painter; who must study diligently before he can
understand his subject, which perhaps, after all, forces upon
him representations void of grace, or dignity. This diffi-
culty seems counterbalanced, by the general ignorance of
spectators, who rarely are more capable of criticizing the
costume than the artist ; and therefore do not observe inci-
dental deviations from it; which often perplex the painter
of modern fashions, and present life, where the rapid varia-
tions of modes and dresses require an expertness, not ex-
pected from the artist who treats antique subjects. Suppose,
for instance, a Roman story : the most general and best
known forms of the Roman dress must be selected ; not
those of very remote antiquitv, not the mlnutice of the
various parts of dress, their fashions, and temporary taste,
even in those times of which our information is most ex-
press ; the general idea and the leading principles are those
most applicable to such compositions ; and happily are most
readily to be procured. With regard to Gods and God-
desses, poetic authority, picturesque effect, and apparent

DicT, Edit. 7. o propriety,

98 D R A

propriety, must unite, to render their habiliments appro-
priate, elegant, and striking.

However draperies may be appHed, regard must always
be maintained to the quality and natural appearance of the
stuff' represented. For how can the eye distinguish satin
from linen, unless its glossy effect be attended to ? unless
the brilliancy and sparkling of its lights be justly treated?
Since its smooth texture caimot be felt, nor a spectator be
informed of any of its qualities, except those which are
visible, how is he to know it, and to call it satin, unless
the painter's skill evince it? The same might be said of
every other manufacture ; and although we do not expect
from an artist, the same intimate acquaintance with that
variety of drapery articles, which is necessary to a linen-
draper, or a mercer; or that he should paint his laces pre-
cisely to a Brussels pattern, or to Point, yet if he do not
maintain an evident distinction, and peculiarity of charac-
ter, he cannot claim applause as a painter of drapery.

The liberty which an artist possesses, of giving to his
draperies such colours as he pleases, so as to promote union,
or force, at his discretion, is a prodigious advantage in
favour of drapery : moreover, it is an article which admits
uf infinite variety in its foldings, and their eflects :
some may be bright, others in shade, Sec. yet if happily
conducted, witbout the least apparent constraint or impro-
bability.

Draperies are of great utility, to unite groupes, to fill
up vacancies, and to prevent too considerable intervals
between parts of a picture : they contribute, also, to variety,
to magnificence, and to splendour.

ilie terms with regartl to drapery are, to set, or cast a"

drapery ; ?. e. to j^lacc tlic folds in a natural, becoming,

4 and

UlCTJON \RV p« 01)

DrapefyM'2

\^<> f*^

D R A 99

and graceful order, and to form them into sizes, Sec. adapted
to their subject. Flying drapery is that which is agitated by
the air, or by motion, which is kept buoyant, and as it were
floating. Drapery should not be stiff, uneasy, poor, angu-
lar in its lines, nor seem as if imitated from the lifeless
block of a Layman : but as if anmiated nature had been
consulted and faithfully copied.

For the use of the Layman^ see that article, and the
article Cast a Drapery.

The leading principle of drapery, is a disposition to
le at rest, and this disposition it maintains, however it
may be agitated, or conducted into form; thus when a large
piece of cloth is hung by a dyer upon tenter-hooks, it
falls regularly by its own weight, and becomes smooth,
excluding both wrinkle and fold. If in the same cloth, a fold
be formed on purpose, yet at a small distance from its origin
it widens, frees itself from constraint as soon as possible,
and spreads into a similarity to the general smoothness of the
whole piece. The number of folds in drapery is always gc-
cording to its fineness, the stiffness of coarser cloths not
permitting so many divisions, and requiring more strength
to fold them; fine linen, therefore, is always most replete
with folds, yet always preserves its disposition to rest, and
foils, however it be gathered and plaited. Drapery agitated
by the wind, is constantly impelled by the same principle,
and the wind can no longer keep it buoyant than while it is
able to overcome the descending power of the drapery. We
have thought a plate or two might illustrate these principles.

In No. I, we have a piece of drapery supported at each
end; in the middle, let ween the two supports, it drops: at
the two supports, the folds are more numennis and closer
than any where else, they are consequently narrower, hut

O 2 expand

loo D R A

expand themselves and widen towards the bottom, where ,
they become broad, and almost smooth and tranquil.

In No. 2, the drapery is of a finer quality; there is also
more in quantity, so that the folds are more numerous, and
the resemblance of the lower folds to the upper is less
destroyed. We observe in those folds which hang per-
pendicular, that though they begin narrow, they end broad.

Nos. 3 and 4, are two views of the drapery of the Apollo,
and (in conformity to the observation on Attitude) ex-
hibit the same foldings of the drapery in different aspects:
their variations, foreshortenings, lights, shadows, 8cc. de-
serve notice.

From the original drawing hy Po2issin ': This philosophical
figure having been composed by that great artist far Leo-
nardo DA Vinci " on Painting," we shall quote the pas-
sage which relates to it, as also that illustrated by the Two
Jigiires in conversation by the same hand.

" That part of a fold which is the most remote from its
centre, or from the place of its restraint, whence the fold
commences, will recover more of its natural state, than any
other part. This is owing to a faculty, which all natural
things are found to have, in common with each other; to
■wit, self-preservation, or an endeavour to preserve their own
manners of being; in consequence of which, a stuff uni-
form, and alike in its thickness and strength, endeavours to
continue flat and even ; so that when, on account of some
fold or ]<lait, it is forced to quit its natural habitude, it strug-
gles continually to retrieve itself; and still in proportion as
it recedes from the j^lace of its constraint, it approaches
nearer to its original plainness, by expanding and unfolding
itself. Thus, for instance, suppose A B C the fold of a
drapery, and A B the place where it receives its force or con-
striction.

JJ/apay. DirTIONARYpa:ioo.

, fiom the ofiffirtij/ J)/ •iw viij/ IfvToupvi .

])ir TION'.\RY.pa loi. JJrapay

'm,

Drapery. DiCTiONARY.paioi.

•V'^.

^'^

DlCTlONAKYpaioi . J)/-(f/^efy

'^T^S

D R A. lot

strictlon, I have already shewn that the part most remote
from the rise or root of a fold, will have recovered the greatest
share of its natural form ; whence it follows, that C being
the most distant part of the fold, will likewise be wider,
plainer, and more expanded -than any other part."

'* Where a figure is shortened, let the folds be closer to-
gether, and drawn round the member in greater numbers,
than where it is not shortened ; thus the figure M N throws
the middle of each circulating fold, further from its extreme,
as it is more remote from the eye ; R O shews the extremes
almost straight, being found directly over against the eye ;
and P Q has an effect contrary to the first, N M." i. e. the
folds become circular.

In the Philosopher standing, and in him pointings we
have additional examples of drapery principles; these figures,
therefore, require no further elucidation, as what has already-
been said, explains them.

DRAWING, as an art, has been already treated in the
Lectures. It may be considered as expressing the forms
and the contours of objects, also the representation of their
corresponding lights and shadows, as well in form, as in
force : with their natural reflections, 8cc.

DRAWINGS, are either (i.) flight Sketches, thoughts,
or hints of a master, in which case they convey his simpk
and indeterminate ideas only: or, (ii.) finished, and ar-
ranged, as well in composition, as chiaro oscuro, and every
other part of painting, except colouring.

Drawings hold a middle station between pictures and
prints : they exhibit the fire and animation of a master, his
style, his manner, and spirit; the fecundity, dignity, and
elevation of his genius, and the facility of his hand. • The
manners of drawing most in use, are with chalks, with the

pen.

loz E A S

pen, and with washes of bistre, or Indian ink. Other man-
ners have been aheady suggested.

DROPS, or Gutta, in the Doric entablature, are small
pyramids or cones, hanging immediately under the triglyph,

DRY is a term employed to characterize outlines of figures,
which are too strongly expressed, which are cutting, hard,
and not softened so as to mark the roundness of the parts they
represent. It also expresses the sharpness of those transitions
from light to shade, which are too sudden, too violent, by
reason of the absence of those dcmi-tints, which ought to be
interposed between light and shade, in order to unite both
by partaking somewhat 'of each.

XLASEL, is a frame-work of light wood, contrived to hold
the picture on which a painter works; it has usually three
legs, two before, and one behind; the one behind occasion-
ally takes off": it is always longer than the other two, and is
capable of being set further off, or brought nearer, whereby
the inclination of the easel is regulated. The two front less
are pierced with holes, into which are put pegs, and on
these rests a kind of flat narrow board, termed a shelf: on
this the picture stands, and is moved higher or lower
according to the height of the holes in the front legs, in
which the pegs are placed.

Easkl riECES are such as have been wrought on the
easel ; such as are not too large for that purpose. They
are so termed, in contradistinction from great works, as ceil-
ings, 8cc, and from miniatures, &cc. Many artists, excellent
in great svorks, are not equal to themselves in easel pieces.

EASY

ELK 103

EASY is spoken of a genius which conceives with readi-
ness, and of a hand which executes with promptitude: an
easy genius invents with freedom; varies its inventions iu-
finilely; and, in short, dlfltrs from its former self, conti-
nually. An easy pencil shews itself by a large free touch,
and by producing its iritended effect, without the appearance
of labour. Rubens is a remarkable instance of the appli-
cation of this term.

EFFECT may be considered as divided into two branches.
General and Particular : the first being the result of
the whole piece, and arising from the united efforts of its
various parts and principles ; each department producing
that happy interest which is adapted to it, so that the Pic-
ture possesses a good effect. As to particular effects, they
may be taken, (i.) with regard to principles; and in this
sense it is usual to understand the term as relating to chiaro
oscuro. (11.) With respect to parts of .a composition, it
may be said, such, or such a part, has not in nature that
effect which an artist has given to it: or the effect of such
a part is not so good in such a place, as it might have been
in another, &c.

In studying from nature the effects of particular parts
(they often prove very different from ideal conception of
them)j great care should be taken that they be conformable
to the main principles of the piece ', for instance, that the
point ofsight be not higher or lower, or more oblique, &c. the
error may at first -seem small, yet may really prove serious.

The effect of a picture on a spectator, should be con-
formable to its subject, inspiring gaiety, or sadness, medita-
tion, or mirth.

ELEGANCE, according to Monsieur Du Piles, is the
art of representing objects with a good choice, superior to
ordinary attempts, with delicacy and address communicating

104 E P I

to the work those natural yet striking graces, which may
give satisfaction to the spectator. In this respect, elegance
of form is a superior sudy.

ELEVATION of sentiment, is a certain noble manner of
thought, and expression, which marks the artist's genius:
it is repugnant and contrary to whatever is low, mean, ab-
surd, or unbecoming.

Elevation of a house, is a term used in architecture, to
signify the geometrical, measured, and exact appearance of
the front of any building. The plan of a building gives its
horizontal dimensions ; but the elevation gives not only its
perpendicular dimensions, but also the effect resulting from
the distribution of its parts, its ornaments, and its general
aspect. It should always be remembered, in considering an
elevation, that it is strictly a geometrical idea, not such a re-
presentation of a building as the eye will see it to be when
erected: because the perspective of the various parts causes
differences which run throughout the edifice, and more
or less change its appearance.

EMBLEM is in painting, what metaphor is in writing;
signifying something Ijcyond what appears, relating to men-
tal disposition, or to circumstances improper to be introduced
historically, and therefore hinted at by figures, or other ob-
jects: its sense is determined by its application or context,
whether moral, historical, elegant, or satirical.

ENEMIES, are colours which, when mingled, produce
a disagreeable mixture; and being placed near each other,
are hard and unpleasant.

In general, those colours whose result when mixed is dis-
agreeable, are improper as neighbours in any composition.

FuiKNDLY COLOURS arc totally the reverse.

EPISODE, in painting, as in poetry, signifies, an action
accessory to the principal, whicl^ forms the subject of the

picture.

E X H 105

picture. Episodes are by much more tolerable in poetry than
in painting, because they may be contrived to arise natu-
rally out of the subject, and to relieve the reader's mmd : but,
in picture, episodes arc too apt to attract the spectator's eye
and attention from the main business represented, and to
divert his inspection from where it ought (o be fixed. In
some subjects, nevertheless, episodes contribute to the fuller
relation and expression of the history, and provided they be
kept subordinate, they may be admitted.

Episodes are sometimes introduced where thev could
not possibly occur: sometimes a wall must be pulled down
to render them visible, and sometimes they produce dreadful
anachronisms. These are errors to be avoided, since they
are repugnant to reflection and judgment.

EQUESTRIAN, in sculpture, is spoken of a figure on
horseback: the term is not used when speaking of a picture.

EGIUILIBRIUM is spoken (i.) of a figure, which is well
(or ill) balanced, and adjusted; (11.) of a picture, whose
parts, back ground, &c. are adapted to the rest, which
ought to be with symmetry, harmony, relief, &c. not per-
mitting one side to be crowded, another empty; or glaring
here and there, while other places are destitute of effect.

EXHIBHTON is an assemblage of works of art, ex-
posed to public view. The spring months of the year, April,
May, or June, are distinguished among artists, by that
EXHIBITION of thtir respective performances, which an-
nually attracts the attention of the public.

It is no uncommon situation of many valuable talents to
be concealed from ihat protection and applause their merit
deserves, till some happy occurrence introduces them to
public notice and esteem: some sudden ray of light break?
into their obscurity, and discovers excellence which might
otherwise have been forgotten in oblivion.

DiCT. Edit. 7. p What ■

io6 E X H

What was the situation of meritorious artists fifty or sixty
years a^o? or of art in general, in consequence of the insig-
nificance (to say no worse) of its professors ? Not thai
men of talents were unnoticed or unrespected among them-
selves, but that they were unknown or disregarded (too
much at least) by their employers. At that time the artists
of Britain seemed few in number, and among them, only
here and there a master of repute. These, however, held
assemblies at stated periods, and supported, by subscription
among themselves, a private academy inSt. Martin's Lane(in
which seminary, by the bye, most of our late eminent pro-
fessors received the earlier principles of iheir education), and
by much diligence maintained a freedom from that vassalage,
wherein those not fortunate enough to rise to public notice,
were enthralled by picture-dealers ; a set of gtntry much re-
sorted to by whoever wished to furnish themselves with the
productions of art. With what spirit could an artist en-
gage in his work, when he was well persuaded, the emolu-
ment and reputation arising from it would accrue to another,
and himself only enjoy (if he could be said to enjoy) the
scantv pittance allowed him by a trader whose principle was
to purchase as cheap as possible? Imagination might soar
in vain; its exertions were repressed by attention to neces-
saries. The chilling blasts of humble mediocrity, if not of
absolute penury, constricted the liberal flow of genius,

*• And froze the genial current of the soul."

In this confined situation^ it was extremely natural their
thoughts and discourses, whenever they met together,
should turn on the subject of their difiiculties; mutual com-
plaints excited wishes and projects for the removal of those
impediments which surrounded them. In these conversa-
tions, the method most generally proposed, was the establish-
ment

E X H 107

Xnent of a public academy, as the most likely mean to at-
tract public attention: but however desirable such an insti-
tution might be deemed, it seemed attended with so many
difficulties, as proved an effectual bar to its success; and,
therefore, after some fruitless attempts to procure assistance
from those who were esteemed patrons of the arts, the de-
sign was dropped.

This is not a place for exclamations of sorrow that any
useful design should be dropped, nor for examining wherefore
the patrons of art refrained from promoting a scheme whose
establishment offered no sma'l gratification to their taste, nor
for investigating those principles of British liberty, which,
however invaluable in general, were found, on this occasion,
not a little unwieldy. But we cannot refrain from blaming
that haughtiness of self-opinion, which prevented artists
from a modest estimate of their own worth; insomuch that
when the list oi superiors to this institution was formed, all
appeared as directors, or professors, or officers of some
kind or other, and there were left no fellows to form the
body of the society ! This circumstance (according to in-
formation we have received) contributed greatly to annihilate
the proposed establishment.

Accident has often produced what the utmost efforts of
industry have failed to accomplish; and something of the
same kind seems to have happened here. Liberty has ever
been considered as a friend of the arts ; it is natural, there-
fore, for artists to revere the memory of asscrtors and chami»
pions of freedom, particularly those of our own country.
Actuated by this principle, the artists had an annual meet-
ing at the Foundling Hospital, to commemorate the landing
of King William. To that hospital several of their body
had made donations in painting, sculpture, &c. which being
accessible to the public, contributed to make those artists

P % more

io8 K X H

more generally known than others. From this circumstance
occasion was taken to suggest, that if those artists found so
much benefit resulting from the inspection of their perform-
ances, it was probable, others would be equal gainers in the
public opinion, could they enjoy a similar advantage. This
idea was no sooner proposed, than it was assented to, and
approved, and a public exhibition was accordingly resolved
on. Tlic committee who were llie proposers of the plan,
received directions to issue proper notices of this intention ;
and many ingenious works were exposed to public view,
April 2 1, 1760, in the great room belonging to the Society
of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce, in the Strand.

The success of this undertaking was equal to the most
sanguine wishes of its institutors; the publir. was pleased,
the artifets were applauded ; those already known extended
their reputation ; those hitherto concealed, became the im-
mediate acquaintance of the public.

The collection consisted of one hundred and thirty per-
formances. Forty-two painters who contributed to this as-
semblage, and about thirty professors of other branches,
composed the whole of those engaged in this attempt.

Now opened a new and pleasing prospect to the artists;
had any one merit, he prepared to shew- it ; or if sensible of
his deficiency, he exerted his utmost abilities to attain a level
with those in whose applause the public were loudest. If
one, whom he supposed his equal, appeared to excel him,
his vigorous endeavours regained his place. Connoisseurs,
;uul picture-dealers, no longer bore their former sway in
raising or in ruining an artist's reputation and fortune;
their interference was discarded: the public sought after
those masters whose labours had most interested their re-
gard. A visible improvement in every department of art,
was the consequence of this encouragement ; and each suc-

ceedintr

E X H J09

ceedlno' exhibition demonstrated the talents of British artists,
and their grateful returns to the fostering care of a discerning
public.

But beside the advancement of art, the exhibition was ot
no small service by its profits to those widows and families
of deceased artists, whose situations required pecuniary as-
sistance. And though this circumstance may have been too
much overlooked of late, yet as it is in itself honourable to
fender service to our fcUow-mortals in general, so we may
reasonably suppose, the public were not insensible to the
pleasure of contributing to this part of the institution.

The second exhibition contained two hundred and twenty-
nine subjects. Removed to Spring-Gardens great room.
where the exhibitions continued many years.

Admission was gratis to the first exhibition, to whoever
had a catalogue, which was sold for six-pence; but, by per-
sons lendnig to friends, Sec. no little inconvenience was ex-
perienced. To the second exhibition, catalogues were one
shilling : at present the exhibition of the Royal Academy
is charged one shilling for admittance, and the catalogue
is charged six-pence also.

It is pleasant to review the language of those who were
now advancing rapidly in public favor.r, and this was the
tenor of it, 1762: " An exhibition of the works of art, be-
luga spectacle new in this kingdom, has raised various opi-
nions and conjectures among those who are unacquainted
with the practice in foreign nations. Those who set out.
their performances to general view, have been too often con-
sidered as rivals of each other; as men actuated, if not by
avarice, at least by vanity, and contcnciino- for superiority ot
fame, though not for a pecuniary prize.

" It cannot be denied or doubled, that ali 7.-ho ofier them-
5clvcs to criticism are desirous of praise : this desire is not

onh.'

no ^ E X H

only innocentj but virtuous, while it is undebased by artifice^
and unpolluted by envy; and of envy or artifice those rnen
can never be accused, who, already enjoying all the honours
and profits of their profession, are content to stand candi-
dates for public notice, with genius yet unexperienced, and
diligence yet unrewarded : who, without any hope of in-
creasing their own reputation or interest, expose their names
and their works, only that they may furnish an opportunity
of appearance to the young, the diffident, and the neglected.
*' The purpose of this exhibition is not to enrich the
artists, but to advance the art ; the eminent are not flattered
with preference, nor the obscure insulted with contempt ;
whoever hopes to deserve public favour, is here invited to
display his merit.

'• Of the price put on this exhibition, some account may
be demanded. Whoever sets his work to be shewn, natu-
rally desires a multitude of spectators, but his desire de-
feats its own end, when spectators assemble in such num-
bers as to obstruct one another. Though we are far from
wishing to diminish the pleasures, or depreciate the senti-
ments of any class of the community, we know, however,
what every one knows, that all cannot be judges or pur-
chasers of works of art ; yet we have already found by ex-
perience that all are desirous to see an exhibition. When
the terms of admission were low, our room was thronged
with such multitudes as made access dangerous, and
frightened away those whose app«"obation was most desired.
** Yet, because it is seldom believed that money is got but
for the love of money, we shall tell the use which we intend
to make of our expected profits.

'* Many crtists of great abilities are unable to sell their
works for their due price: to remove this inconvenience,
an annual sale will be appointed, to which every man may

5 scud

E X H in

send his works, and send them, if he will, without his name.
These works will be reviewed by the committee that con-
duct the exhibition ; a price will be secretly set to every
piece, and registered by the secretary. If the piece exposed
is sold for more, the whole price shall be the artist's; but if
the purchasers value it at less than the committee, the artist
shall be paid the deficiency from the profits of the exhi-
bition."

Happy had it been if the moderation of these sentiments
had deeply impressed those under whose direction they were
communicated to the public ! the conmionweallh of arts
might then have flourished beyond the utmost expectations
of its friends; beyond the abilities of despotic combinations.
As to the plan of selling, &c. it was tried, but soon quitted,
the chief benefit falling to the share of Messrs. Langfords
the auctioneers.

When a charter was obtained, their majesties and the
royal family honoured the exhibitions with their presence,
and the arts and artists seemed at their zenith of reputation.
Afterwards dissention separated from this society the elder
artists, who procured the royal authority for the institution
of an academy, which at length was lodged in the new
buildings erected at Somerset House ; and here the exhibi-
tion has been annually opened, and has experienced a very
considerable share of public favour. The money received
at the door is employed in paying the expenses of the aca-
demy, salaries to superlntendanis, the costs of models. See.
Some widows of former officers also benefit by it, and some
young artists are supported while on their studies abroad, iu
Italy, &c. What is not thus employed, accumulates as a
fund for the purposes of art, or for other benevolent pur-
poses. Though exhibitions have varied as to their merit,
yet they have always afforded ample amusement in return
for the money they cost a spectator.

EXPRESSIOr^,

EXP

EXPRESSION, as it relates to the human figure, has
been treated in the Lfxtures.

General Expression is assisted by certain adjuncts, or
circumstances attendant on the actors in the piece : such
are (i.) Personals, dress, equipage, ensigns of dignity,
crowns, arms, &c. (ii.) Amusements, books for a student,
musical instruments for a lover of that recreation; horses,
doers, &c. for the chase, (m.) Allusions, of which
mrny are to be found in Hogarth's works, (iv.) Writing,
x.hen no other way is left to certify or distinguish persons

and things. i t u

A few instances mav illustrate this principle. In Ho-
garth's «' Progress of Cruelty," he has identified the prm-
cipal character, first, as a boy writing his name - Tom
Nero," on a wall : afterwards he is identified by the letter
to him, « Dear Tommy," and when being dissected, by the
letters T. N. supposed to be made by gvmpowder on his
arm. On the same principle has Annibal Carrachi
^vritten on a footstool, in his picture of Anchises and Venus,
Genus wide Latinum (referring to the origm of the Lat.an
line), because, Venus having many lovers, by what other
„,eans might Anchises be distinguished so evidently ?

Mr. Richardson observes, - there are certain httlc cir-
cumstances that contribute to the expression. Such an
effect the burning lamps have that are in the carton of heal-
M,. at the Beautiful gate of the temple; one sees the place
is holv, as well as maonificent.

i' The lar-e fowl that are seen on the foreground in the
carton of the" draught of fi.hcs have a good effect There
Ha certain sea-wildness in them; and as their W was
/ish thev contribute mi.htilv to express the aOa.r ni hand,
vslwch ^^•^s fislilne. 'i'l-y are a line part o( the scene.
- Pas.erotto has drawn a Clhnsl'. head, as gomg to Ik;

crucified,

EXP 113

crucified, the expression of which is marvellously fine ; but
(excepting the air of the face) nothing is more moving; not
the part of the cross that is seen j nor the crown of thorns,
nor the drops of blood falling from the wounds that it
makes jTiothing can express more than an ignominious cord
which comes upon part of the shoulder and neck.

** Ifthcrebe any thing particular in the history of the per-
son which is proper to be expressed, as it is still a farther
description of him, it is a great improvement to the portrait,
to them who know that circumstance. There is an instance
of this in a picture of Vandyke, of John Lyvens, who is
drawn as if he was listening at something; which refers to a
remarkable story in that man's life.

^' In the carton where the people of Lycaonia are going to
sacrifice to St. Paul and Barnabas, the occasion of this is
finely told : The man who was healed of his lameness is one
of the forwardest to express his sense of the divine power
which appeared in those apot la ; and to shew it to be him,
not only a crutch is under his feet on the ground, but an old
man takes up the lappet of his garment, and looks upon the
limb which he remembered to have been crippled, and ex-
presses great devotion and admiration ; which sentiments
are also seen in the other, with a mixture of joy.

** When the story of Joseph's interpretation of Pharaoh's
dreams was to be related. Raphael hath painted those dreams
in two circles over the figures : which he hath also done
when Joseph relates his own dream to his brethren.

The hyperbolical artifice of Timanthes to express the vast-
ness of the Cyclops is well known, and was mightily ad-
mired by the ancients; he made several satyrs about him,
as if he was asleep ; some were running away as frightened,
others gazing at a distance, and one was measuring his thumb

DicT. M^dit. 7. Q with

114 EXT

with his thyrsus, but seeming to do it with great caution>
lest he should awake.

** I will add but one example more of this kind, and that
is of Nicolas Pou?sin to express a voice, which he has done
in the baptism of our Saviour, by making the people look
up and about, as it is natural for men to do when they hear
any such, and know not whence it comes, especially if it be
otherwise extraordinary, as the case was in this history.

" Another way practised by painters to express their sense,
which could not otherwise be done in painting, is by figures
representative of certain things. This they learned from the
ancients, of which there are abundance of examples, as in
the Antoninian, or rather Aurelian pillar, where, to express
the rain that fell when the Roman army was preserved, as
they pretended, by the prayers of the Meletenian or thun-
dering legion, the figure of Jupiter Pluvius is introduced.

" One instance more of an improvenient upon the subject
well deserves to be added. I have seen a picture of Albani,
a Madona ; the child is asleep; the subject is a common, a
plain one; to heighten it, the painter has represented Christ
dreaming of his future nassion. How is this indicated ?
By placing just by his head a sort of glass vase, wherein is
seen faintly, and, as it were, by reflection (seen through a
glass darkly}, the cross, and other instruments of his suf-
fering."

S.ometimcs the general expression is spoilt by oversight 5
as in the instance of a bird sitting on an car of corn without
bendhig it : or, thai of a straight Jir'mg from a blind beg-
gar's hand, to his dog's neck ; which would certainly choak
tlse dog ; or that of r. dead body seeming to help ItselJ into
the sepulclue : or by oiher inattentions.

EXTREMITIES, in a figure, are the head, the hands,
tilt- fed, the knees, and other junctures. Tiie extremities

should

F A C 115

should never be concealed: if they must be clothed, yet
they should shew themselves through the drapery, by their
protuberaiK:e and effect : they are the obvious machinery of
nature, and by them and their exertions, the forms, the ac-
tions, the symmetry, of the person is manifested^ not co-
vertly but openly.

Jc ACE, the, is the most beautiful part of the person, as it
contains the greatest variety of form, of colour, of character,
and of animation : it is indeed the seat of picturesque life j
and the seat too of expression mental, personal, and sympa-
thetic. Hence it is the peculiar study of artists, and
many who succeed in it can represent scarcely any thing
else, as is notorious among portrait-painters. Some suc-
ceed best in profile faces; others prefer three-quarter faces ;
others full faces. Some suppose a slight turn of the eyes
contributes to the grace of a face, 8cc. History-painters
and sculptors rather speak of heads than of faces : and in-
deed this is thought the more becoming term, though the
other be very common.

Face. Some artists have chosen to measure Ihe propor-
tions of the human figure by faces, instead of heads : in
which scale of measurement they would fall as follows ;

From the crown of the head to the forehead, is tlie third
part of a face.

The face begins at the root of the lowest hairs, which
are upon the forehead ; and ends at the bottom of the chin.

The face is divided into three proportionable parts : the
first contains the forehead, the second the nose, and the
third the mouth and the chin.

<^ % From

ii6 FAC

From the chin, to the pit betwixt the collar-bones, are
two leno-ths of a nose.

From the pit betwixt the collar-bones, to the bottom of
the breast, one face.

From the bottom of the breasts, to the navel, one face.

From the navel to the lowest part of the body, one face.

From the lowest part of the body to the upper part of
the knee, two faces.

The knee contains half a face.

From the lower part of the knee to the ankle, two faces.

From the ankle to the sole of the foot half a face.

A man when his arms are stretched out, is, from the
longest finger of his right hand to the longest of his left,
as broad as he is long.

From one side of the breasts to the other, two faces.

The bone of the arm, called humerus, is the length of
two faces, from the shoulder to the elbow.

From the end of the elbow to the root of the little finger,
the bone called cubitus, with part of the hand, contains
two faces.

From the box of the shoulder-blade, to the pit betwixt
the collar-bones, one face.

If you would be satisfied in the measures of breadth,
from the extremity of one finger to the other ; so that this
breadth should be equal to tiie length of the body, you must
observe, that the boxes of ti)i: elbows with the lunneruSy
and of the humerus with the shoulder-blade, bear the pro-
portion of half a face,' when the arms arc stretched out.

The sole of the foot is the sixth part of the figure.

The hand is the length of a face.

The thumb is the length of a nose.

The inside of the arm, from the place where the musclr

disappears.

F A L 117

disappears, u-hich makes the breast (called the pectoral
muscle), to the middle of the arm, four noses.

From the middle of the arm to the beginning of the
hand, five noses.

The longest toe is a nose long.

The two nipples, and the pit betwixt the collar-bones of
a woman, make an equilateral triangle.

For the breadth of the limbs, no precise measures can be
given J because the measures themselves are changeable, ac-
cording to the quality of the persons j and according to the
movement of the muscles.

How character varies these proportions has already been
noticed in the Lectures.

FACILITY signifies the readiness, promptitude, and ala-
crity of an artist's mind, in conception, or of his hand, in
representation; the fertility of his ideas, their justness, and
application to the subject, their disposition. Sec.

Facility of hand requires a free and spirited touch, liberty,
and vigour of pencil, &c. ; but this boldness and vivacity be-
comes a fault where it is not regulated by scientific accu-
racy : so that to acquire facility, are necessary, intimate
knowledge of the objects represented, their forms, combi-
nations, &c. and an habituated practice. Thus it appears
that judicious theory, and confirmed experience, contribute
to facility.

FALSE LIGHT. When a picture is so placed in an
apartment, &;c. that the natural light which it receives,,
comes from the side contrary to that artificial light v^hich
enlightens the picture itself, it is sr.'.d to be viewed by, or to
be placed in, a false light: and this is very detrimental to
the effect of a picture, as it takes off greatly frorn the veri-
simllity of the objects represented in it ^ and, in fact, tends
to counteract much of the artist's management of the chiaro
ol'scuro. Art i;i its best prcducticns requires every a=5sist-

. • -• • ance

tiS FIB

aiice that may be derived from place, or situation ; conae*
quently, it must suffer greatly when seen in a false light,
and thereby its utmost, or happiest exertions suptrsedeU
by inadvertence, or mismanagement.

FflCBLE is spoken of effects, general and partial, and
of a performance itself. A capable master may occasionally
produce a feebje performance ; when he has not exerted the
vigour of his genius upon it : a piece may be feeble from
the want of vigour in the genius, or in the hand of its
author; it may be fiat, insipid, uninteresting from its sub-
ject, from the manner in which the subject is treated, or
from the inadequate result of the whole together': of two
pictures, though painted as companions, one is usually less
vigorous than the other — but it may compensate the want
of vigour by other appropriate excellencies, which may
render it a proper associate, though possessing merit of a
different kind.

FESTOON is an ornament composed of fruits, flowers,
Sec. tied together, arid supposed to be suspended at each end.
It is probable this ornament took its rise from garlands. See.
hung over the doors, &c. of temples on the days of solemn
festivals in heathen worship, when such kinds of offerings
were made to the deities. Or they might be the first fruits
which had l)een carried to the temple in procession, and
which were hung up as long as they kept together, and were
afterwards commemorated by being sculptured as ornaments.

Festoons arc not now restricted to flowers, or fruits, but
many other articles are employed to the same purpose.

FIELD of a pkture tignilies llic depths, the hinder
parts of the compo-illijn, those upon which the nearer parts
are placed, and Irom which ihey ought to appear detached.
To produce this cffi'ct, the field of the picture ought to he
of a nature and appearance distinct from, yet allied to, the
nearer objects : it' tbesw be light, the field may be sober

and

1^ I N 119

and grave ; if these be solid and firm, as it were, the field
may be light — yet always harnioniziiig in form, and espe-
cially in colour, with the forms and the colours of the prin-
cipals of the piece.

FIGURE, in terms of art, signifies whatever is capable
of representation : hence we have geometrical figures, nia>
thematical figures, &c.

In paintmg, ** figure" is usually restrained to import the
human figure : but animals are also figures in landscape.
Many landscape-painters succeed but ill in figures : and it
would well become painters of every kind to study the human
figure; it must improve their style, and their manner of
viewing even the most ordinary objects. Too many figures
in a picture embarrass the general effect, and load the com-
position. Annilal Carachi said, *' twelve figures was the
greatest number necessary for most subjects ;" — those which
were useless, or redundant, or unemployed, or misemplov-
€d, he used to call " figures to be lett." Such should be
avoided ; but it is not every figure that seems to be useless
which really is so in a composiiion : very often, to remove
figures which seem to be doing nothing, would impoverish
the ordonnance ; and they may safely be retained till that
something better which can be substituted, is determined
by competent judgment.

FINISHING proposes as its pursuit, the most scrupulous
attention to everji part of a piece; to give the utmost truth
to its objects. \'ery great care to finish some parts of a pic-
ture^ is apt to injure the effect of others ; it is apt, also, to
weary the mind of the artist, and thereby injure the liberty
of his hand : but when finishing is united with freedom,
when it is delicate and light, it by very much exceeds (for
cabinet pieces especially) the slight productions of haste and
celerity .

5 FIRE

J23 F L E:

FIRE Is spoken of that animated and lively expression,
action, &c. whicii some masters have conimunicated to the
figures introtluced in their pictures. Those bold touches which
mark and characterize each individual thins as distinct from
Others, those judicious selections of actions, those animat-
ed inventions, those vigorous conceptions and compositions,
which realize, as it were, the subject represented ; these are
the offspring of that glow'nig imacrination, xh^i Jire which
is a talent received from nature, an endowment of the artist's
mind; a quality not to be expected as the result of studies
however long continued, or sedulously pursued.

Fire-lights are a class of pictures in which the effect
of light is seen to great advantage. They differ something
from candlelights, and altogether from daylight pictures.
To be in any degree striking, thev must be studied from na-
ture. The late Mr. Wright, of Derby, vias a wonderful
proficient in pictures of this description.

FLATTERY is spoken of a likeness in portraiture,
which has improved on the original. Flattery is certainly
a crime in morals, but unless pushed to excess, it is no
crime in picture : for as it may not happen, that the time
when a person sits for his portrait, is his most favourable
time ; or, that he than is most agreeable, in his general ap-
pearance ; it is a very pardonable liberty, if the artist en-
deavour to represent hmi as he would appear, at such most
£'.vourable UKiment. This liberty we allow in views of
places, and in representations of things ; why should we
d«.ny it in portraiture of persons ? but that this should bo
done with dexterity and skill, with modesty and delicacy, all
admit and all desire : when the flattery is too gross it offends
more by its excess than it gralities by its coniplaisance.

FLESH is always understood, in terms of art, of those
parts of the human figure, wliieli arc seen naked in a pic-
lure.

FOR 121

ture.. To represent this well, is among the highest exer-
tions of art ; as it requires good drawing, and good colour-
ing. If the term carnation differs from the idea conveyed
by the term Jlesh, it is, in referring to a greater quantitv,
such as a whole fio-ure, or a number of figures, or the gene-
ral mass of the whole : or as we say of a master, " his
carnations (meaning his nakeds, generally) are so, or so."

FLOWER-PAINTING is a distinct branch of art j like

, landscape, portrait. Sec. It requires clearness of tint, a happy

adjustment of the various flowers, as productive of harmony

and effect, and a certain sprightliness, and gaiety, without

which, flowers are heavy and inefficient.

It is a too frequent error, to represent in one groupe,
flowers which do not blow or appear at the same time : this
mixture of summer and winter is very reprehensible.

FLUTINGS, the hollows or channels, which are cut
perpendicularly in columns by wav of ornament, and which
should always both begin and end in the shaft, near the ex-
tremity of the apophyges ; though there are examples to
the contrary. When flutlngs arc used the capital should be
enriched.

FOLIAGE, an assemblage of leaves : used as an orna-
ment in architecture. Foliage expresses likewise the 'leaves
of trees, &c. in landscape ; and the manner in which the
foliage of various trees is treated, as to truth, character,
keeping, &c. is of great importance to the good effect of a
picture.

FORCE is the result of a judicious application of the
chiaro oscuro ; its leading principle is contrast.

FORESHORTENING is the effect of perspective, and
has been explained in the Lectures. In general, this is a
difficult part of study, but when well executed very decep-
tive, as it gives the idea of projection and interval, which

DiCT. Bdit. 7. R otherwise

T22 F R A

otherwise Is unattainable : yet this principle too abundantly
repeated loses Its eftect, and injures the whole of a picture.

FORM is sometimes spoken of a figure; as when vvc
say, character regulates the forms of figures : it is also ap-
plied to the parts, as a hand, or a foot, of a good form.

Form is also applied to the contours, and proportions of
vases, ornaments, and other inanimate things : in this sense
a. form is elegant, or beautiful, is clumsy, or disagreeable.

Form is also applied in the sense of shape, to the figures
of the masses, the lights, the shadows, the groupes, and, in
general, to all the lines of a composition.

FOXY is a term used by painters to express the preva-
lence of a particular kind of redness, resembling that of
the animal from which the exptession is taken : as this is by
no means the most agreeable of reds, care should be taken
to avoid the excess or predominance of this hue or tone in
a picture.

FRAME, that which sitrrounds a picture when finished.
The uses of a frame are (i.) to .defend the picture, 8cc. from
injury ; for which purpose frames should be, though not
heavy, yet sufficiently firm, and strong, (ii.) To termi-
nate the apparent sitrface of a picture, to confine the eye
from wandering beyond the dimensions which are proposed
to be subniiiled to its inspection, whereby the parts on
which art has been employed, mav produce all the e'Tcct of
which they arc capable, (m.) To heighten and improve
the vivacity of the colours, Sec. which appear in the piece :
for this purpose, frames arc commonly n^.ade of wood, gild-
ed, and the gold burnished. A varictv of patterns are erii-
ployed on fraiuc'^ : if they are tiTo showy and glaring, they
injvire the picture bv attractim.'- the eve from it : if thev are
noniposed of too small ornnnientr-, the e\ c may regard
these, wlu n it should be coioidering &,■: picture; neverthe-
less.

PRE 123

less, as handsome frames greatly ornamerjt an apartment,
where ornament is desired frames may be eiribellishcd ac-
cordingly ; they are very expensive if large : from ten to
sixty guineas.

The framing of prints, is now an article of great trade :
as the dimensions of these are not so large as those of pic-
tures, the frames should be proportionately narrower ; and
as prints have no colours to compare with those of a picture,
they should be modest, and sober rather than glaring. Some
artists never choose to shew their works unless framed ; as
the frame is a kind of dress to a picture.

FREE is spoken of attitudes, draperies, &c. as opposed
to constraint, and stilTucss. In general there is danger that
parts surrounded by too much drapery, or by draperv drawn
too tight, should want freedom : there is also great danger
that attitudes, intended to be very expressive, very solemn,
or very attentive, should want freedom, A just medium be-
tween slovenliness and constraint^, is a proper estimate of
freedom.

Freedom of ha>;d, is the result of an intelligent mind,
actuating a practised hand ; if good sense does not direct
the hand, it will produce scrawls, not instances of freedom >
but the best sense jn the world requires practice, to be able
to express its intentions by its hand. Constraint at first
may prove no enemy to freedom at last.

FRESCO, a manner of painting on walls, Sec. while wet.
Vide the Compendium of Colours..

FRESH is said of colouring, when it possesses truth
and brilliancy : but particularly of carnations. A freshness
of colour in the naked is that of a healthy, animated, san-
guine, vigorous person : as opposed by livid, diseased,
leaden, earthv, or b;ick-coloured carnations.

Colours are sometimes praised for their freshness after
B 2 ages

124 FRO

ages of duration : this is a very commendable quality, and
proves, not only that the colours were themselves good, but
that the masters knew how to use them. Modern masters
are perpetually seeking after colours that will stand as well as
they see some' ancient colours have stood : they should re-
collect, (i.) that ancient masters superintended the preparation
of their colours themselves : (ii.) that they disturbed them as
little as possible in the using of them ; and, (in.) that it is
usually the fault of the menstruum, oil, &c. when colours
change, rather than of the pigments themselves.

FRET is an ornament in architecture used lo embellish
flat surfaces, chiefly : it is a kind of broad band or riband
(or several bands), as it were, folded on itself, at right angles,
and carried along the member it is intended to decorate.
This kind of ornament is sometimes very complex: but a
single fret is simple enough.

FRIENDLY colours, are those, which, when united,
form a pleasing mixture ; those which when placed close
together present no harshness, no violent opposition, but
an agreeable result : in general, those which mix kindly to-
gether into one pleasing hue, associate in a friendly manner.
See Sympathy.

FRONT OF A PICTURE requires a boldness and freedom
of touch, a distinctness, and force of treatment, in order
to make a strong impression on the spectator: as this part
cf a picture is always supposed to be near the spectator,
the objvicts may be rendered as natural as possible, so that
by a little exertion it should seem easy for him to feel as well
as see them ; yet aiways avoiding hardness.

FRONTISPIPXE sometimes signifies the whole face or
aspect of a building, but is more properly applied to the de-
corated entrance of a house.

Frontispifxe sometinits means an introductory orna-
ment to a book.

GALLEHY.

OEN 125

vTALLERY. In a capacious residence there are usually
some rooms not peculiarly occupied by the family, but
allotted for the reception of decorations. These, when hung
with pictures, are called picture-galleries ; but, in truth,
a gallery should be an apartment extended into considerable
length, and whose windows are so disposed as to afford the
most favourable light for the pictures which are hung in the
gallery, for the statues, busts, vases, &c. which stand in
it, and for whatever other decorations of art it contains.
Probably the origin of galleries was the length of those
apartments connected with colonnades, and which formed
communications of intercourse between the parts of exten-
sive mansions ; these being adorned with works of art,
other receptacles for works of art received their appellation
from them ; and hence a gallery is understood to contain
such works, and indeed to be composed of them ; for so,
when we regret the removal of the Houghton gallery from
England to Russia, we mean the pictures, though the
apartment which contained them remains.

GENIUS. The principles of natural genius have been
pretty much considered in the Lectures, to which we refer
the reader.

Genius, a, expresses one of those little winged boys (in
religious subjects often called cheruhs) which painters place
flying about on some occasions. They may sometimes
illustrate a subject, by contributing to tell some episodical
part of the story ; but as they are accessories only, very
rarely indeed should they occupy a principal place : their
business is ornament, and their u-e is to expres? uhat can-

5 "t>f

120 GOT

not be so well suggested any other way, bv which they are
restricted for the most part to ancient subjects. Naked
geyiii flying about in clouds, in composition with modern
personages, habits, and facts, are seldom tolerable : yet
there are exceptions ; witness Pope's Rape of the Lock, and
its very amusing and expressive aerial machinery, which is
no le?s picturesque than poetical.

GLAZING. Vide what has been said in the Comi'EN-
DIUM OF Colours on this subject.

GLORY. \''ide Aureolus, or Nimsus.

GLUK is a tenacious matter, emploved to unite two or
more pieces of wood or other things; it is also, in some of
its preparations, used as a kind of menstruum to liquefy
and assist the application of colours and other things. The
strongest glue is made in Enoland, from the cartilages,
nerves, feet. Sec. of oxen, first macerated in water, then
entirely dissolved by heat. There are various kinds of glue,
as that used bv carpenters, as above ; that made of parch-
a'!Tent-shrcds, See. The fan-manufacturers make a very
neat glue. A kind of stick made of glue is composed for the
purpose of joining paper together, in order to enlarge draw-
ings, Sec. or to repair those which have been damaged, Sec.
It may be carried in the pocket, and is used by being mois-
tened with warm water, or even by a little saliva, for im-
mediate application.

GOTillC may be generalK' understood in much the
same ocnse as bakhahous; though in fact it v.as the taste
of certain northern nations, whose ravages and desolations
of the line arts in Itaiv, 8:.c, are well- known. As most of
our old churches, &e. are Gotiiic in their architecture,
there is no need to particularize this manner; which, how-
ever inferior to the elegance of the antique, has nevertheless,
in its beat example?, great richness and sultninity. Sonic

derive

G R A 127

c'^erive this style from the Saracens or Moors, rather than
from those nations properly called Goths.

There are various kinds of Gothic. The early examples
of this style in England are called Saxon, and are charac-
terized by circular arches springing from massy columns.
A subsequent style adopted the pointed arch, and high
rising proportions, turrets, &c. ; the windows of such edi-
fices were beautifully ornamented with foliage, and the roofs
at length partook of equal decoration. The former arc
called Norman Gothic ; the latter are described as either
enriched) or Engli::li Golhic.

GRACE is a certain characteristic quality, which render?
objects agreeable and delightful to the spectator.

A figure may be well drawn, yet not be graceful ; or
well coloured, yet possess no grace; may even be beaulitui,
yet not graceful. Whence then is grace ?

This subject might be treated negatively and positively.
The first is so clear to genera! understanding, that little dif-
ference of opinion is maintained on it. Whatever is not
accurate, or in character, or well placed, or interesting, is
not graceful : whatever shocks the feelings of a spectator,
or is repugnant to huinanitv, or to civility and politeness,
to decorum of maimers, and elegance of sentiment, is not
graceful.

Is the converse of this grace ? Grace is characteristic :
there is grace peculiar to youth, to maturity, to age. Grace.
is a happy treatment of beautv inspiring elegant ideas : hi
source must be sought for in the mind.

As to the influence of rules in producing grace, it seems
inapplicable : rules are always more or less mathematical.
Now, who conceives of n)athematical grace ? Rather, the
povA'er of designing a graceful figure i? a quality of; a
happy imagination, which, by conceiving forms and their
relation?, lines and their direction'-, images to itself grace

and

4iS G R A

and elegance. If to conception thus graceful, be added judg-
ment to select ideas, and to enihody them by appropriate de-
lineation, and application, the result is — dtlio-ht.

Graceful movement is usually transitory and fugitive; it
requires attention and observation to perceive and to profit by
it. To the assistance of such observation, a hint or two
may contribute.

The first thing we notice when a person presents himself
in company, is the air of his head : it is more or less
bending, forwards or sideways ; it is free, or stiff and con-
strained. This part especially requires notice, because the
airs of the heads are the first things which strike in a pic-
ture. The attitudes of the arms are of great consequence,
whether like or unlike, parallel or varied j the relation of
the line or lines they make to that of the head and neck ; to
that of the body; also the forms of the hands, their mo-
tions, the relations of the lines of their motions to that, or
those of the arms, the situations of the fingers, 8cc. In
the body, the line of its motion, its attitudes, its ease, and
free deportment; the absence of constraint and embarrass-
ment; the absence also of affectation; the polite, kind,
and engaging manner of performing certain actions, &c.
when a person not only does readily what he does, but
gracefully also. In a word, grace is a happy selection of
nature, seen in her best moments ; which, when repeated,
excites love rather than admiration, and pleasure mingled
with approbation rather thaii surprise : it pervades the
whole figure from licad to (oo\, by variety, yet union, bv
harmony and intimate relalicni, though diversified bv innu-
merable distinctions and changes of pcrs(>nage?aud character.
GRANDEUR is dignity united to grace ; it is a noble-
ness and supcriorilv, connected with case and politeness.
That this quality, as well e.s grace, should vary with dif-
ferent persons is net wonderlu! ; and while ihe saisaiions of

niaidviud

J'JjJh't o/^Zuyht lUid S/iadinf Dictionary of AKT.pa:i2f).

in a Groi/p o/' ob/ectf

//? a single objed .

Objects D^peKfCff; t/iae/hre tvit/iout Etfcd.

G R-I 129

fnanklnd are (al originej distinct, and arise from unequal
and variable motions of the mind, there will always be
diversity of opinions both on grace and grandeur. In fact,
this diversity of opinions, and sentiments, and ideas, is
among the insuperable impediments to a definition of grace :
at the same time that it is a happy circumstance for artists,
\vhose works are therefore likely, if rejected by some, to be
admired by others.

Grandeur of manner is intimately connected with a
rejection of the minute and trifling parts of a subject,
bringing forward the more important and noble parts, and
placing them to the best advantage, without any com-
petitors whereby to divert the eye from their complete
effect.

GRAPES, BUNCH OF, Is the model which nature offers
to artists for their conduct in composition, especially of the
chiaro oscuro ; wherein the parts are so disposed, that they
form a whole, in which many contiguous parts may be
enlightened, many in shade, and others varying in medium
tints : as in the bunch of grapes, those in the centre are
conspicuous, others recede, as well in effect as in situation,
going off gradually, without any offensive suddenness, while
the infinitely varying reflections preserve a harmony, and
augment the spectacle wi-thout permitting glare. Vide the
plate.

GRINDING is an operation very necessary to tlie beauty
of a picture, because the beauty of colours much depends
on it : unless they be finely ground they are roueh, gra-
velly, and coarse; aud have ahvays a bad eire,ct, especially
m works to be viewed near: nevertheless, colours may be
injured by over-grinding, especially white. Colours well
ground mix better witl> others also well ground, and pro-
duce a smoother and pleasanter surface than coarsely-ground
pigments. Careful grinding is thought to have contributed

DiCT. Edit. y. s greatly

130 6 R 6

greatly to the preservation of the colours in the pictures of
old masters, some of which have stood wonderfully well
century after century.

GROTESQUE is a kind of style in painting and sculp-
ture, which takes unbounded liberties with the humati
figure, or other objects; beginning, for instance, with a
;herub's head and body, and ending in a wreath of orna-
ment j or to a lion's fore part uniting capricious and
whimsical decorations, variously coloured, &c.

They are called grotesques, because imitated from the
subterranean ruins of the baths of Titus (called grottaj.
Giovanni da Udine was the restorer of this libertine
manner, as Vitkuvius has justly reproached it with being ;
it however maintains a place, because convenient for orna-
ment.

GROUND signifies much the same aijield of a picture,
i. e. the part behind a forwarder object. In this sense we
say such a thing \z the ground to another, as sky to trees or
buildings, buildings to figures, or a figure behind another
to the figure before it. The hack ground, as it is often
called, is of great consequence to the subject represented ;
to a portrait it should harmonize well with the figure, in
tone and in colours, being always kept down. In general
the back ground of a picture should be light, cheerful,
modest, sober, and friendly to the principal forms and
colours of the piece : the importance of the back ground is
felt most by those who best understand the management of
the principal.

GROUPE is, bolii In painting and scidpture, an assem-
blage of several figures : the term is extended to assemblages
of all kinds of objects, animals, fruit. Sec. The figures in
a groupe ought to have a relation to each other, a corre-
spondence'and" liiutuality ; they ought to contribute to ihc
same action, arid' to raise the same, or at least a similar
-^ sensation.

H A R 131

sensation. Groupes are thus considered with respect to
composition. Also in clair obscure, they are objects where-
Q|i the light falls, so as 10 raise attention, and from which
shadows originate, so as to support the lights, whereby the
eye regards the groupe as a simple object. Any number of
figures may enter into a groupe; but it is evident that if
they are too numerous, the simplicity of the groupe is de-
stroyed. When a composition requires several groupes,
they should be arranged on the principle of a groupe itself;
that is to say^ that the parts, though related, should yet
be distinct, and the principal suffer no abatement: thus a
large composition is a groupe of groupes, always offering a
first or chief, and such supports as are requisite ; generally
a second and a third ; more groupes would embarrass atten-
tion, less would be heavy and confused, as well as prevent
the necessary vacancies which divide without distancing
them. In a history containing twelve figures (which are
usually sufficient for any story), three groupes will permit
each figure to be distinct, without injuring the importance
of the principal.

GYPSUM is a natural production which forms plas-
ter of Paris after being calcined : it is used for casts of
figures, &c.

XlARD is a term used to express a too sudden terminatioi:i
of outlines, &c. ; a dry, awkward, ungraceful contour;
when the lights, instead of gradually approaching the sha-
dov.s, rashly, as it were, join them, and produce by their
too sudden transition, a cutting of the parts, instead of a
tenderness, which is infinitely more pleasing.

HARMONY is the result of a judicious, proportionate,
varied, yet connected management of chiaro oscuro, colour-
ing drawing. Sec.

s 2 The

132 H O L

The term is generally adopted in reference to colouring:
Its principles are, (i.) Union, the absence of inimical and
lieterogeneous colours and tints, (ii.) Variety, whereby
every colour is heightened, and rendered more piquant, yet
with delicacy and skill.

Some persons have supposed that a harmony of colours
might be formed on the principles of musical harmony; but
the idea seems impracticable.

HARSHNESS is used in a sense not very different from
Hard.

HEAVY is spoken of figures, draperies, forms, &c.
which are not elegant, tasteful, easy, and agreeable to the
eye : it is the contrary to lightness, grace, and beauty.

HEIGHTENED is spoken of subjects which being
painted in two or more sober colours, or in chiaro oscuro
only, are afterwards touched in places where their bright
lights strike, with lighter colours; or with glldivgy some-
fimes ; as the historical pictures in the dome of St, Paul's
at London.

HISTORY Painting selects, from events real or sup.
posed, the actions which it designs to represent; and gene-
rally, it should be some elevated subject, capable of grandeur
and dignity, and affording scope for the exertions of art.

This branch of painting claims, and is allowed, the first
rank in the art; it is the most difficult, as well as most
noble ; requiring in the artist an elevated mind, a fertile
imagination, an heroic genius, and s;encrous sentiments; to-
gether with C'irrect design, taste, fidelity, expression, and
learning. Yet these are imperfect, without grace and
suavity.

HOLES arc those patches of dark or blackish colours,
which are placed mal-a-propos on the front of a picture;
generally with intention to procure force, but which, when
viewed at a ju3t distance, by hiding the objects they con-
tain.

I C O r33

ialn, seem rather so many impervious pits, than masses of
regulated and tender shade.

HONEYSUCKLE, an ornament adopted in architecture,
representing the flowers of this plant in their early state.

HORIZON is the apparent boundary of the earth where
it seems to touch the sky. To all purposes of art this is the
actual horizon : but astronomers extend the horizon into the
region of the stars itself! In perspective it is always the
height of the eye : subjects above the horizon shew their
lower surfaces : subjects below the horizon shew their upper
surfaces to a spectator.

XCHNOGRAPHY is properly a representation of the hori-
zontal plan of any subject, as of a house, level with the
groundj but, in perspective by planes, has been taken with
some liberty, for the representation of any plan, vertical, or
horizontal.

ICONOLOGY, or the science of Emblems, often ex-
presses, by direct means, what narration or poetry fails of,
when most prolix; and has the advantage over writing, of
being more generally, understood. Its antiquity is un-
questionable; whether we recur to the sacred ivrit'ings, or
trace it in the hieroghjphics of Egypt, certain it is, that
emblematical representations were cultivated, and even com-
municated as a science, in ages of refnotest antiquity.

In later ages, signs of a very general and extensive nature
have been chosen to convey the ideas of the iconologisl :
these are taken from ordinary occurrences of nature, or from
various properties of natural productions, which, being open
to general observation, are presumed to be generally in-

tcllisyible.

4 To

134 ICO

To most species of creatures, nature has given a certain cha-
racter, distinct from that of all others; to the lion, courage 5
to the eagle, quickness of sight, as well as celerity ; to the ele-
phant, sagacity ; to the fox, cunning : not that we credit every
tale related of those animals, yet presume enough to be truth
to justify their representations as symbolical of the same
qualifies or propensities in the human mind.

Not only subjects of the animal, but also of the vegetable
kingdom, are used as expressive insignia, m this science;
trees remarkable for their strength, or shrubs observable for
their fragrance, are emblems extremely easy to the mind;
and, when well adapted, equally pleasing. Who is there
but imagines something mournful in the cypress, or
plaintive in the weeping willow ? Who is not sensible of
the beauty of the rose, or feels not the majesty of the cedar ?
The machines, implements .and utensils, employed by
mankind, become significant emblems : the plough is a just
symbol of agriculture, as the sword is of war. To an em-
blem of music, we use such musical instruments as are.
known among us ; as to a figure of painting, we insert the
pallette and pencils.

Particular countries, cities, Soc. have generally somewhat
peculiar to themselves, either the growth of the country, ox
manufacture of the city ; or, perhaps, a particular custom,
privilege, or character, distinguishes them from others, and
this, when judiciously employed, forms a becoming allu-
sion to the subject intended.

Iconology exacts three principal qualities j ^?,y^, that it
be iNTKLLiGinLE, that the symbols introduced arc such as
speak at once to the eve and to the understanding, and whose
rclaljou and application to the subject to be expressed, is
obvious and clear. It is highlv offensive to keep the atten-
tion long in suspense, ere it can dccyphcr ncvvly-inventcd or

roundabout

IMA 135

roundabout related tokens, mysterious as free-masons' signs.
This obscurity is contrary to the use of introducing symbols,
which is explanation and information.

The second quality necessary in emblems, is, that they
should be AUTHORIZED by customary usage. This autho-
rity is usually attributed to the antique ; for my own part,
however, I cannot but regret the influence which is allowed
to antiquity on this subject. It seems to me, that, with re-
gard to religious emblems or ideas, we are happily placed
under a dispensation so different, that most of their senti-
ments are either contradicted or superseded : and the same
may be said of many philosophical truths; our informa-
tion whereon is infinitely superior to their imaginations. But
in what symbols are arbitrary, as those of antiquity are gene-
rally received, they are nmchmore intelligible than others now
composed might be, so that their use seems indispensable.

The third quality of emblematical figures, is, that they be
necessary: if the business can be accomplished without
them, they must be omitted j for, if introduced without war-
rantable occasion, like misapplied epithets in writing, they
embarrass more than they enforce.

The treatment proper to emblematical introductions, is
that of accessories, not of principals.

IMAGINATION is that quality of the mind whereby we
think, conceive, invent, and combine ideas. One of the
most necessary qualities for an artist, is a lively, gracefuT
imagination.

To assist the imagination, it has been suggested, that re-
course may be had tt) the various effects of accidental causes,
which shew themselves in objects around us; such as bat-
tered walls, veins of marble, &c. : but hov/ever these mav aid
imagination in an eccentric and irregular manner, they are
by no means capable of imparting grace and elegance.

^ " IMI-

136 INK

IMITATION is not so much copying the works of ano-
ther master, as endeavouring by recollection, and by hand-
ling, to repeat his manner of thinking and working. Paint-
ing sometimes imitates the antique, though from statues, in
the turn of figures, the forms, orders, and directions of folds
of draipery, &c. It should seem, at first sight, that we can-
not imitate nature too closely, but this must be restricted
to a good choice and beautiful nature : for whatever is defec-
tive, lame, superfluous, offensive, ought not to be imitated^
though it be nature no less than what is lovely, or select,
and well-chosen j but of such subjects the more perfect the
imitation is, the better.

IMITATOR is the character of those artists who so
closely follow the manners of other masters, as not infre-
quently to deceive the best-informed judges. David Te-
KiERS was so good an imitator, as to procure himself the
appellation of the ape of painting.

IMPOST, a facia or small cornice which crowns a pier
or pilaster, and from which an arch springs.

IMPRESSIONS are prints taken off copper-plates at the
rolling press ; and are either good or bad, according to the
truth witliwhich they represent the work on the plate: if
they are too faint, or too full, they are equally bad : the first
being deficient in force, the latter in clearness; which two
qualities ought to unite in a perfect impression.

INK is a general term for a liquor used to write with, to
draw with, to print with, Sec. The best ink to draw with is
Indian ink, which is an artificial composition, originally
made in China. A substitute is made by smoke received on
a plate, and combined with diluted glue.

Ink used in copper-*plate printing, is composed of Frank-
fort black, and linseed-oil burnt (weaker or stronger as
wanted), well ground together into on body.

A plate

J 0 I 137

A plate Is inked in when the whole work upon it is filled
up with ink, forced into it by means of a rubber made of
woollen rolled together, and rubbed over the whole face of
the plate.

INTERESTING relates either to the nature of a subject,
or the manner of treating it. A subject may be interesting
by its pathos, or its relation to the spectator, or its general
importance : an interesting manner of relating such a subject,
is the result of feeling and sentiment, taste and judgment.

INVENTION is a part of composition, which selects thp
objects, &c. requisite to the subject treated.

When an artist has determined on his subject, he ought
well to imprint it on his mind ; to interest himself in the
action; to transport himself in idea to the very event;
to examine every ahicle connected with it, or related to it;
every circumstance or accessory which may be useful or be-
coming ; and these he must apply to the best advantage,
omitting redundancies, and confining himself to propriety,
in his thoughts, expressions, and incidents.

To assist invention, are necessary, constant study, general
conversation among mankind, a readiness of remark on oc-
current effects, a retentive memory, a habit of rapid sketch-
ing, an acquaintance with the works of the best masters, the
best histories, the best poets, and whatever is a happy effort
of inventive genius.

JOINTS of the various members, or bones, in the body,
to be well represented, require great attention. They differ
in appearance according to the difference of ages in ihe sub-
jects represented : they are not capable of receiving much
accession of fat, and never are loaded with it ; so that the
skin which covers them, being always nearer to the bones
beneath it, than in other parts, shews their situations and
effects. Children, and women of a certain plumpness, not

DiCT. Edit, 7. T having

138 K N 0

having the same Strength in their muscles as men have,
shew the difference greatly at the joints ; for in many parts
where the bones shew themselves by rising under the skin,
in a man, as at the shoulders, elbows, wrists, knuckles, &c.
in children and women these parts are dimpled or sunk in.
As this effect is strongly characteristic, art should imitate
and pronounce it accordingly ; not with a slavish attention,
yet with a faithful, a dexterous, and a liberal hand.

JvNOWLEDGE is to be acquired only by reflection on
good works, and a regular attention to the effects of nature,
with the methods of imitation which have been practised by
the ingenious and excellent. This latter knowledge is espe-
cially requisite to determine the genuine productions of any
particular master.

Knowledge is the art of distinguishing and judging of
the beauty and the merit of a performance of art, and of the
manner of the principal artists, so far, at least, as to deter-
mine, whether a picture, &c. be an original or a copy ; and
whether it be of the master to whom it is attributed. The
best judges are by no means infallible on the latter article,
and arc often deceived by taking the works of the scholar for
those of his master, whose style he has imitated closely : for
by having repeatedly, and for a long time, copied his master,
he insensibly acquires bis manner, both of thinkmg and of
operating. Though it is undoubtedly agreeable to be able to
attribute a v.ork to its real author, yet it is much more ne-
cessary to be able to determine whether a performance, of
whatever nature, be meritorious or insipid, whether it deserve

praise

K N O 139

praise or censure : and this degree of knowledge may be ac-
quired when the former cannot.

The knowledge of nature is the first ingredient toward a
just estimation of the merit of art : the eye which is well in-
structed will unquestionably be agreeably affected at the
sight of an elegant statue, picture, or design: and if such an
eye be not attracted, it is a probable nroof that the per-
formance does not combine, in any high degree, the requi-
site qualities of excellence. A man of knowledge should
have no prejudices in favour of the dead or of the living,
of old masters, or of living professors : merit is all he
should concern himself to observe and to applaud : he
mav, indeed, have his favourite taste, but in general he should
esteem art, and art should be the subject of his impartial
judgment.

What we have said supposes the knowledge of the prin-
ciples, at least, of invention, composition, design, expres-
sion, colouring, handling, costume, grace, and grandeur.
Invention pleases and instructs, composition places to the
greatest advantage the efforts of design, and expression ; co-
louring, and handhng, please only; but the just observation
of the costume is instructive also; grace and grandeur com-
plete the assemblage of excellent qualities, and are not con-
fined to works of one kind, usually esteemed the superior
walk of art, but are communicated by the magic of some
masters' skill to what, on the first mention, is hardly sup-
posed capable of such merit and Interest. The best of mas-
ters have, from time to time, produced performances un-
worthy of their reputation ; to be governed by a name, is
therefore no proof of knowledge : on the other hand, indif-
ferent masters have sometimes exceeded themselves, and
these fortunate productions ought to be honoured in propor-

T 2 tion

I40 L A R

tion as ihey are excellent, not in proportion to the fame of
their authors. Vide Original.

After all, as artists are not always successful, neither are
critics always just. It is probable that artists more frequently
copy what they see in nature, than critics who have not had
the same opportunity of study incline to suppose: insomuch
that while it must be recommended to artists not to reject
advice, because that would be to forbid improvement, it
must also be desired of those who take upon them to judge,
not to decide hastily, nor by their own favourite lines of
study, nor by insinuations from prejudiced minds, but by the
genuine principles of art, and by the proprieties of under-
standing: and knowledfre.

KEEPING has been already explained in the Lectures.

J^AME. A figure is said to be lame, when its parts are not
correctly drawn : — one leg, perhaps, is longer than the other,
or one hand does not match its fellow, or a finger is so
placed as just anatomy forbids. Nevertheless, the precision
of proportion is not always to be so strictly maintained as
to produce constraint ; the finest figures of the antique are
not precise in their measures, but they appeared to be perfect
in the station from whence they were intended to be viewed.

LANDSCAPE. Vide the Lectubes.

LARGE describes those broad masses of light and sha-
dow, of pencilling and handling, which, instead of being
frittered by divisions and subdivisions into so many nothings,
void of power and effect, are composed on the principle of

producing

LAY 141

producing their just impression on the spectator by attracting
his notice, which cannot be accomplished by narrow, or
scanty, or ill-supported distribution of light and shadow ,
of colours, and oppositions. ■

LAYMAN is a figure generally of wood (especially when
large), but often of cork, ozier twigs, or even of cane, card,
and other light substances ; the parts are proportioned to
those of the human body, and the joints are capable of mo-
tion ; sometimes being made of brass, on the principle of ball
and socket (these are very much the best), but in cheaper
constructions the joints are made of balls, cut crosswise to
the centre, and a catgut string passed through the orifice
thus procured.

The use of the layman is, to serve as a model, whereon to
dispose draperies ; especially in such attitudes as, being diffi-
cult to maintain, would tire a living model j they hint also
at the effects of foreshortening in ceiling figures and others.
Lay figures of animals, also, are useful, by taking such atti-
tudes as the animals themselves would not assume at
command.

As the too frequent use of the layman is very injurious,
we shall offer a few hints which may regulate its intro-
duction.

Artists acknowledge that correct design is only to be at-
tained by study of living nature, and therefore, notwithstand-
ing the natural mobility of the life, and the instability also of
the light, they yet attentively study nature. Wherefore
then should they not surmount the same difficulties in treat-
ing drapery? and why should they copy from a lifeless block,
in hope, perhaps, of imitating somewhat more nicely the
exactitude of folds, or the minutia of the demi-tints ; and
this at the expense of the ardour and vigour of instanta-
neous effects ? Nor is this all j for by having^ constantly

before

St'^/^ Lie

before their eves the imperfct and clumsy proportions of a
layman, they will be liable to slide into an awkwardness of
design and representation, which cannot but be injurious tp
their works. Add to this, it often happens, that the dra-
pery they studied is much more highly finished than the
naked, or principal part.<, whereby the unity of the imitation
is lost, and the care and pains of the artist worse than lost.
If these evils be avoided in the use of the layman, and
if it be treated with freedom and liberty, its services are
great: the means of attaining such freedom are, to study
this article (drapery) in nature at large, and to endeavour at
a facility in giving to each species of stuff that touch which
it requires, with lightness and dexterity ; whereby will be
avoided the too close imitation of those innumerable little
lights, reflections, and trifling demi-tiats and shades, which
bewilder the artist who too closely copies a motionless lay-
man.

LEAFING is of great consequence in paintmg landscape.
Each master has his manner of leafing. The general rule
is, to lay in the leafing parts by masses of shade, and to
relieve them by masses of lights inserted upon them, and
carefully graduated ; these are further strengthened by such
smart touches, as well of dark as of light, as are requisite.
These touches should always follow the course of the leaves,
but without degenerating into detail and dryness, as if the
artist had counted his leaves.

LICENCES are certain liberties granted to artists in the
conduct of subjects, whereby they are freed from that slavish
attention to absolute identity of representation, of which the
article treated is capable. If, for instance, an artist is spec-
tator of a scene which he wishes to compose, it does not fol-
low, that he shall not deviate from the lights which fell on
the figures, or, that be shall place every person exactly in

the

L I G 143

the attitude he really was in ; or every groupe exactly on that
spot which it occupied ; when by a little variation the whole
may be greatly amended in regard to picturesque effect, and
artist- like treatment. On the other hand, it would be in-
sufferable in an artist, who, treating the story of Diogenes
and Alexander, should make the shadoiv of Diogenes
fall on the monarch : or, if a general had contrived that his
enemies should attack him with the sun shining in their
faces, if an artist represents either his enemies in shade, or
no sun at all, this would be almost criminal in treating such
a story.

LIGHT AND Shadow. Vide Chiaro Oscuro.

LIGHT to study by. It may be of use to hint to our
young friends, that not every light is equally proper for
study. Abroad, for instance, in an open country, care
^ should be taken not to study with the full glare of strong
sunshine striking on the book, or paper, which receives the
study. The most agreeable time of the day in which to
study objects, is directly after the sun is set, while the
heaven is filled with the light he has communicated: and,
indeed, the true colours of objects are not perceived while the
sun shines on them, the solar rays, by adding their own co-
lour, debase that of the object : as blue, in sunshine, is not
truly blue, but blue surfaced with yellow ; and the same of
other colours ; even black may in some aspects appear
white, by reason of improper light reflected from it.

The same principles hold good. respecting studies by can-
dle-light : glare is extremely prejudicial to the eye. Beside
this, the angle at which the light falls on a subject studied,
as suppose, a plaster figure, should be neither too high nor
too low ; for though it is well to know the effect of light at
all heights, yet the general and most pleasing angle is about
45 degrees, at which the shadows fall most agreeably to or-
dinary

144 LOG

dinary observatiori. If any person wishes to know how
greatly the effect of light alters a countenance, let him place
a candle above, or below, on one side, or on the other, of
an intimate friend, and it will soon appear that he would
scarcely know his friend to be the same person, so greatly
is his appearance changed, in different lights.

LIGHT in which to place a picture, should always be the
same as that supposed in the piece, otherwise it is a false
light, and detrimental to the effect of the picture; it is still
worse when the light glistens against the surface of the
canvas. Vide False Light.

LIGHT HAND is equivalent to freedom, liberty, 8cc. of
management and conduct of the necessary utensils 5 whe-s
ther the chisel, pencil, graver, &c.

LIBERTY of hand, is used in a sense not very different,

LOCAL Colour is that proper and natural to an ob-
ject, and to every part of an object, that which distinguishes
it from others, and which it always preserves. Local
colours are good, in proportion to their veracity.

Local colour is, in its strictness, that tint proper to,
and chosen by the artist for the place which it occupies :
it should be, according to the laws of gradation and keep-
ing, that which, by the help of the colours around it, ex-
presses the true appearance of what it is intended to repre-
sent : for instance, a silk, a stuff, flesh, or other object. It is
called lucaJ, because the place which it occupies, requires it
to be of its present tone, though, perhaps, were it removed
from th's place to another, and surrounded by different
colours f.om those wiiich now surround it, or were it seen
uuder another light or aspect, truth itself would require
it to b • very difiercnt: because, by reason of its new neigh-
bours, 8:ci it wo'jld lose that propriety which now be-
comes it. Kencc it follows, that local colours are not al-
4 ways

MAD 145

ways exactly those even of nature itself; but those which are
best suited to make their subject resemble the general appear*
ancc of nature to the eye which inspects the piece.

LOW is spoken of the subject of a picture, when it is
drawn from vulgar incidents, and represents vulirar man-
ners: such are many Dutch pictures; they represent occur-
rences which ought in nature to be private, and therefore
ought not in picture to be public,

Low is also spoken of the manner of treating a superior
subject, when the artist shews no elevation of mind, no
grace, or grandeur of idea; the noblest subject possible
may be ruined by being treated in a low and unworthy style,

LOZENGE STROKES in engraving, are strokes crossing
each oth^r with more or less obliquity ; tow lozenge is bud.

JVIaDONNA is the holy virgin mother of our Lord j the
term is Italian, and signifies " Our Lady ;*' it is usually
restricted to a single head of the Virgin. Madonna ^ Bam-
Hno is the holy mother mid her infant, more or less grown
in statL\re, as the painter has pleased. As the religion of
Italy occasions a kind of trade in th?se subjects, they
have bee^ treated by all manner of artists in, all man-
ner of ways j hence their quantity ii ysu^iUy more consi-
derable than their quality. It has aiso been customairy for
pictures of this Hiftd to b^ distiuguishe<i by sume a.ccessory
inserted in the composition j hence one shall be na.uied.
Madonna of " ih^ cushion," atwthcr Madonnoi of
" flowers," another of ^* the fish,*' &c. &c^ The Virgis^ at
the Cross is usually called Mater, rather than, Madonnni-^
as Mater Dolorosa, *' the S04TOVvf«,il i^iwher,*'' &c. &^c^
DicT. Edit. 7. u MAL^STICK^

146 MAN

MAL-STICK Is a light rod of wood, of three or f(Sur
feet in length, having at one end a small bag of cotton, or
other soft substance tied to it. Painters use it by holding
it in their left hand, and leaning the soft bag against some
dry part of the picture on which they are working ; it
serves to rest the right hand on, and to keep it steady wlrlle
painting.

MANNER is that method of working, that touch, that
taste, that habitude, as well as that train of thought, in-
vention, and management, which is proper to every parti-
cular master; which characterizes his productions, and dis-
tinguishes his works : as sometimes a manner distinguishes
a whole school.

Manner, in painting, may be considered as equivalent
to manner or style in writing : thus the manner of Cicero
or of Demosthenes is as proper, as the manner of Kapha-
ELLE or of Titian.

To form a manner, and to be a mannerist, are two dis-
tinct articles. Although an artist proposes to himself to
imitate nature, and nature has no manner, yet by that pecu-
liarity of seeing nature, which is proper to hiniself, he will
actually acquire a corresponding method of imitating those
effects, which he is perpetually inspecting : whereas a man-
nerist not only quits nature and truth, but also repeats
himself, not nature, in his productions : as if all his ob-
jects were cast in the same mould, and never varied in
their appropriate characters or colours.

In the course of an artist's works, it is usual to distin-
guish three manners: first, that acquired while under
tuition; which ordinarily remains a long time, as being
powerful impressions, received in youth, and strengthened by
that respect with which young persons survey the produc-
_ tions of their masters. If the manner of the master is

5 E'*^^>

MAR J47

good. It is infinitely happy for the pupil j if bad, he has
two difficult things to perform, first to relinquish a bad
manner, secondly to acquire a good one : in reference to
this difficulty, the Italians occasionally say, " Young man,
if you knew nothing, you would soon know something."

The second manner of a master is, that which he forms
to himself as the result of mature reileetion, study, and
judgment, wherein his abilities having attained a ripeness,
and sufficiency, he is able to depend on his own talents ;
and this is usually the best time of an artist ; he produces
his happiest works, and giving full scope to his genius,
shews of what it is capable.

As life declines, the manner of an anist declines vi'ith it,
and he slides into a third manner, less vigorous, less bold,
less decided, than his best. His works now are rather the
result ot former habit, than of present energy; rather the
remaining vibrations of a string, than harmonious tone ;
and this more or less, according to the temperament or
situation of an artist, and the nature of his works.

It is not more difficult to a well-informed judge to distin-
guish the manner of a master, than to know the hand-
writing of any one ; aiid if two men do not form exactly
alike their A's and B's, no wonder they differ in represent-
ing a hand, a head, or a figure. This is to be understood
of natural and regular manners ; not of imitations and
intentional forgeries.

Manner, as spoken of the Antique, Gothic, Chines,
&c. is easily understood, as relating to the mode of work-
manship peculiar to such instances.

Manner is said to be strong, weak, dry, heavy, &c.

Mannerist is explained above.

MARBLE is a hard stone capable of receiving a beautiful
polish. The kinds of marble are many. That preferred

u 2 for

148 MliA

for sculpture of figures is white, clear, and void of stfeaks.
Bui many of the most beautiful kinds, finely figured and
variegated, are employed to decorate apartinents, in
columns, chimney-picrjcs, &c« Several kinds of marble
used by the ancients, were drawn from quarries not known
to us ; accordingly these are distinguished by the name of
antique added to them, as rerd antique, i< e* green antique
marble, yellow antique, &c. Some kinds of marble arc
imitated by composition, as scagl'iola^ &r,

MARINE Pictures, otherwise sea pieces, or sea ports ;
scenes on the coast, vcsseii-', &c.

MASQUE, the reprcsemation of a face only, separate fron»
the head, neck, &c. : it is used frequently in sculpture, fof
key stones, &c. over doors and arches j when it represenis
an animal, it is termed a Muffle.

MASSES are those larger divisions of a compositioH,
whereon depends the effect of the whole ; xhsy are aggre-
gates, or collections of parts, arfcl ought to be varied in
colours, forms, effects, &c# as well of lights, as of shadows.

MASTER is spoken of an artist whose genius and
study have overcome the difficulties of his art ; and espe-
cially of those artists who have been most famous : it is un-
derstood also' of otie who has taught scholars, or disciples.
The choice of a master is of great 'importance to a young
prattitioiyer, as he always retahis something of ih^ manner
which he acquires while under the original director of his
studies.

-MAUSOLETJM, a famous sv^prdcbre erected for a king
named JShmsolu^, by his wife Artc7m';ia\ it was extremely
jKympous and splendid j whence pompous and splendid
sepulchres in general have received \\it nametrf Mausotenms.

MEALY is spoken of colours which appear faded,
whitemdy grey in their ph-ades, and while iit their Fights j

Mel 14c,

as if thcy.Jxad been sprinkled with meal, Tliis is a dis-
paragement by nil means to he avoided.

MEDALS are a cotisidcrable source of information from
whenee an artist mdy draw much useful knowledge. They
tisually contain some emblem of the place where thev were
struckj the deity, temple, or Stc. } with a portrait of the
reignihg prince, or Sic. ; so that they represent the dresses
of their times, also the customs, temples, vases, and
implements of many various kindsi Sometimes they con-
tain copies of the tnost celebrated figures of antiquity j and
from them wc not Only identify the likenesses of great peris'
sonagcSj but also the attitudes of famous works of arti
The use ai' medals Wa^ widely extended anciicntlvj it being
a privilege to a city to possess its own mint ; hence they are
associated in collections of medals by their countries, as
Roman, Grecian, Syfianj Persian, &c. Whether medals
generally were Used as coins, is uncertain i some appear to
have been so used i others are so well preserved as to de-
monstrate that they never passed current from hand to hand :
but perhaps they were for the most part intended as coinage^ j
though not all were applied to that use. It is very remark-
able that out of tile thousands of medals known, very few
are exact duplicates : their types may resemble each other
pretty closely, but they usually diflcf in sometJiing.

MEDALLION is a medal of larger size than ordinary.

MELTED. Colours arc said to be melted ^ when they
arc united into each other, with softness, gciuleness, and
gradation .' so that they arc free frorti harshness and rawness
of appearance, but agreeably amUse the eye< As nature
has nothing harsh in its appearance,- but a;lways interposes a
medium between two extremes t'vhether of liffht and shadow,
or of opposing colour?,- it is of gfeat consequence to imitate
her in this management ^ and to this (he proper intelligence

•, . of

150- M O U

of reflections, whether of light, or of colours, greatly con*
tributes.

MINIATURE Painting has been already explained.

MINUTE, an architectonic measure, the lower diameter
of a column divided into sixty parts ; each part is a minnte*

MIRROR is a verv useful article to a painter, as a kind
of critic to which he may appeal on all occasions : by the
distance it gives to objects, and by reversing them, it shews
many defects, of which an artist mio-ht not otherwise be
convinced. It shews principally the effect of the masses^
their relations, the force and distribution of colours, &c*

MODELS are objects of whatever nature, which are par-
ticularly studied, and copied, by artists. At the academy,
the model is usually set naked, for the study of the figure.

MODELLING is explained in Comp. of Colours.

MODILLION, an ornament resembling a bracket, adopt*
cd in the Ionic, Corinthian, and Composite cornices.

MODULE, an architectonic viea^ure) the lower diameter
of a column divided into two parts ; one is a module: each
module is divided into thirty minutes', thus neither is a
determinate, but a proportionate measure.

MOSAIC, anciently and properly called Musa'ique, opus
Musivum, is a manner of work, wherein, by placing side
by side a vast number of little hits of coloured stones^
or glass, and suiting their forms, and colours, to the requisite
drawing, it produces representations of various subjects.
The pieces are inserted into, and united by, a kind of strong
stucco ; and being themselves of durable materials, they
retain their freshness and effect for ages. Mosaics are
always copies of pictures, and their progress is extremely
slow and tedious ; it was in request among the Romans,
but is not practised in England.

MOULDS are hollow casts from some original, which,,

having

MUD 151

having received the exact form of tlie subject, are afterwards
used to multiplv ihe same, by casts from themselves. They
are often of sulphur, which being melted and poured on to
a medal, or bas relief, will take the impression very sharply.
When applied to larger articles, plaster of Paris is usually
chosen ; and the cavity of the mould being oiled, when the
plaster which is to form the cast is poured into it, this being
mixed with water, will not stick or adhere, but come freely
out of the parts it had entered. Vide Gypsum.

Plaster of Paris, which is prepared and calcined gypsiim,
is chosen to form moulds and casts, because, contrary to
most other mixtures, it swells in drying, so that it completely
fills up those parts from which other mixtures would shrink.

MOUNTING is the drawing of a kind of frame, round
a print or drawing, which answers the purpose of termi-
nating the subject; and, by the opposition of its colours,
of heightening the effect of the composition. If a mount-
ing is gaudy by its colours, or its contents, it attracts the
eye from the subject which it surrounds. It is better
therefore when kept grave and sober ; but this is very dif-
ferent from being heavy, or offensive.

Mounting is also used to express the pasting of prints
on cloth, or &c. whether for the purpose of being framed
and glazed, or of being rolled on a roller, as maps are, when
intended to be hung up in an apartment.

MUDDY is a term used principally in engraving, when
strokes, &.c. instead of being distinct, clear, and well de-
fined, produce that kind of effect which we see in lines
drawn by a pen upon paper which sinks : the sides of such
lines being foul, confused, and irregular : this arises some-
times in etchmg, from the point being irregular, or being
tmskilfully handled ; or, from the copper being porous, in
which case the action of the aqua-foriis, m biting, is not

properly

152 NAT

properly restrained and confined to the lines made. In
worklrg with the graver, a nuiddy line is. nsually the effect
of ncghgence in whetting the tool.

Muddy is sometimes spoken of colours which are dirty,
i^Qt clear, nor pleasing i but i)egligemly, or affectedly, dark*
glooniv, and heavy.

IN AKED expresses ^]\ those parts of a figure which are hoI
clothed. As it requires skill to execute the naked wcll„
artists \\\ general are fond of shewing their ability in. \\)\&
article. It is, however, icprehcnsihle to introduce it oh all
occasions ; and however excellent may he the groujie of
Laocoon and his sons, vet, as it is not to be thought ihey
engaged naked in the soleniniiy of a sacrifice, i.t alioeks
probability to represent them so ; a license which it would
ill become any modern artist to assume.

The naked requires softness and delicacy :, thii is, how-
ever, carried loo far by some artists, who forget its firm-
ness; but this is a better fi«dt (if faults cw bo at all good)
tiian hardness and stifl'ncss.

Naked is also spoken of a compositiorv^ where the objects
are tiiin, and seattered ; which requires snore variety, ful-
ness, and richness, to render it picturesque.

NATUUIC comprehends evcrv visible oi")ject which may
be represented : whatever ihroughout creation is an object
of sight, mav be also an object of imitation.

To imitate Nature, is not to follow or copy objects, jv>int
bv point, even supposing the articles are of a good choice :
still less is it just Imitallon of Nature, to take up content-
edly v.ith her ordinary and inferior productions^ without

seckins'

N E A 153

seeking for beauties more exalted and noble : these ought
to attract the artist's attention ; nor should he think him-
self successful short of that perfection which nature is
capable of producing. Nature is the sovereign and arbitress
of art, yet rarely or never is totally exempt from defect j
this the artist must correct in one instance, by assistance
drawn from observation of other instances, which are free
from such blemishes. Moreover, many of the beauties of
nature are fujiitlve and transitory ; these, though of mo-
mentary duration, the artist must, as it were, seize and
appropriate, in order to introduce and imitate them in his
works.

We must not, however, so implicitly attach ourselves to
nature, as to forbid exertions of genius or study; for most
parts of nature, when combined with, or opposed to others,
are liable to ill effects, unless they receive from the artist a
certain turn, disposition, and application, which harmo-
nizes them, and renders them acceptable to their associates.

Unfortunately, many artists, perhaps most, see nature in
a false or artificial light, such as they have learned to see
her. Whereas, though art, as we have said. Is necessary
and useful, yet its province is not to control or contradict,
but to regulate nature : art inay be termed the editor ot
nature. The ancients arrived at their perfection on this
principle, and by judicious assemblage of beauties they
exceeded the beauty of general nature ; not by surpassing,
but by combining the divided excellencies of nature.

NEAT describes a manner in which care has been
taken to avoid whatever might ofl'end the eye of a spec-
tator; large subjects are the better for boldness, small sub-
jects for neatness. In miniature we expect smoothness,
softness, an arrangement of dots, hatches, &c. which is
agreeable, and sh^v^'S Jin is fling; hot so in large history

DiCT. Edit. 7. X pieces.

154 N U D

pieces. In engraving also, neatness is a commendation ; it
denotes a regular, orderly, and suitable conduct of the line*
and hatches employed; not some thin, others thick; some
rough, others smooth ; but a pleasing and elegant symmetry
regulating the whole.

NICHE, a cavity or hollow in a wall for statues, 8cc.

NIGHT-PIECE is a representation of some of those
effects which occur by night; such as moon-light, star-
light, torch-light, &c. Night-pieces being often illumi-
nated by artificial light, are capable of effects very favour-
able to art : we have lately seen Mr. Wright demonstrate
this truth. There is a Nativity of Corregio, in which
the beauty of effect is so conspicuous, that it has, by way
of eminence, been entitled " The Night of Corregio." The
idea of night has usually something gloomy connected with
it; but certain masters have found the method of rendering
night-pieces equally pleasing with those of any other time,
or of any more customary effect.

NIMBUS is an obsolete term, signifying the rays placed
by painters, &c. around the heads of saints, &c. At pre-
sent it is rather termed a Glory. Its use is to distinguish
the personages to whom it is applied, when no action par-
ticularly striking is performing by them.

NOBLE is spoken of an artist who has elevated and
grand ideas of his subjects ; or of a picture, which contains
a subject nobly treated, free from base, low, mean, and vile
ideas, characters, expressions, 8:c. from degrading and dis-
agreeable effects of any kind. Some persons have a happy
talent of rendering even trilling subjects in a dignified and
noble manner.

NUDITY is sometimes taken for the naked in general,
but usually for those [.arts which nature teaches to conceal :
that any good painter shoild (ind satisfaction in represent-
ing, or in omitting to conceal them, is astonishing '

OIBJECTS,

OPT 155

Objects, in the arts, are whatever is capable of Imita-
tion in design and painting. Objects should be touched
according to their places; whether near or remote, they
should be drawn and coloured, and in short throughout
reprc-JL-nted, as nature itself would appear if so situated.

OBSCURE is in one sense the same as shadow, i. e. in
opposition to light. In another sense, a subject is obscure
when it is not easy to determine what it represents, and
this is but too frequently the case in emblematic subjects;
or a well-known subject may be treated with so little intel-
ligence, that the representation of it becomes obscure,
pictures become obscure when their colours are so faded
that scarcely any traces of their effects remain ; and a mas-
ter is obscure when his reputation has been confined to a
small circle, and is not generally known.

OIL-RUBBER, in engraving, is a roll of felt, such as
hats are made of, or of woollen cloth, &c. which, beino"
tightly rolled up and tied, is used to polish plates, to take
off the tarnish from them, and occasionally to fill in the
strokes made by the graver, that their effect may be the
better seen. Too much oil-rubbing wears away delicate
work ; for which reason the oil-rubber is useful to erase
slight scratches, stains, &c. from the surface of a plate.

OPPOSITION of colours (the same as Antipathy), of
lights and shadows, of forms, of characters, of effects, of
expressions, contributes to excellence by diversity and force.

OPTICS is a necessary study to artists; not only as it
forms part of perspective, but as it teaches them what
effects their works are likely to have when finished, and

X a, placed

t$o OR!

placed in their stations. The effects of natural objects
being altogether subject to the rules of optics, must needs
render this study desirable to an artist. Its principles,
though not very abstruse to diligent attention, are yet too
extensive to be treated here.

ORDER, in architecture, a column entire, consisting of
base, shaft, and capital, with an entablature.

ORDONNANCE, in painting, differs little from dispo-
sition, or the distribution and situation of objects which
compose the representation. To disj)lay well the subject of a
picture, an artist should long meditate on the ingredients of
it, even before he sketches them ; then let him draw from
his ideas their disposition, situation, plan, correspondence,
relation to each other, and to the whole, thereby producing
order, elegance, spirit, and effect : by such proceeding we
sometimes see objects, as it were, take of their own accord
their places on the canvas, and without much labour of the
artist's hand they seem to associate, and compose with
each other, as if by a magical inspiration derived from the
mind of their author.

ORIGINAL is spoken of any work of painting, sculp-
ture, design, &c. after nature, or the fruit of inven-
tion. It is not easy to determine whether a work be an
original, or a copy, if by a good hand : but, as in treat-
ing the minor parts, and in the constraint visible in the
execution and touch of smaller objects, the copyist usu-
ally fails ; therefore, in examining a picture, &c. with
intent to determine whether it be an original, we should
attend (i.) to the invention, and (ii.) to the execution. If
the Jirst be good,- well studied, and noble, while the latter
is poor and graceless, it indicates that the same master did
not perform both parts ; while, on the contrary, if the
handling and touch correspond to the dignity of sentiment,

5 ii"^

OR! 157

and shew facility and promptitude, such as might be ex-
pected from the master whose manner of thinking and con-
ception appears in the composition, &c. it may be pro-
nounced either an original, or equal to an original in merit
and value.

Julio Romano is said to have taken for an original on
which himself had worked, a copy by Andrea del Sarto*
On being convinced of his error by a private mark behind
the canvas, he exclaimed, it was superior to an original, as
containing the merit of three masters, viz. Raphaelle
(the author of the piece), himself, and Del Sarto.
Although it is not easy to determine whether a piece be
original, yet if it be meritorious, what more is wanting to
give satisfaction on inspecting it ?

If it be difficult to distinguish whether a performance
be an original or a copy, it is no less difficult to dis-
tinguish whether it be a work of the master whose name
is affixed to it : both connoisseurs and picture-dealers under-
stand very well the art of christerdng their pictures, either
with or without sufficient authority. Although it be pleas-
ing to possess the work of a great master, and so far a
name is of value, yet as a name adds but little to the merit ,
of a piece, we should by no means overvalue the name of
the reputed author. There are many drawings and pictures
of great merit, whose authors are unknown ; but which
are amply recommended by the spirited invention, the
forcible expression, and the liberty of pencil they mani-
fest, and which demonstrate their originality. In some
cases an original cannot be procured, as when painted
on a wall ; then a copy must content us. Often an artist
made several repetitions of the same composition, though
seldom a capital artist did so without some variation : these,
if executed by himself, aie all originals, though in fact one

was

158 P A t

was the prototype of the others. As copies are less esteemed
because they arc servile, stiff, and heavy, so originals are
valued for their freedom and firmness ; to which should be
added, an original and just manner of thinking, of com-
position, and of interesting the mind of a spectator by the
medium of his eye.

ORNAMENTS, although they contribute very much to
the decoration and embellishment of a picture, yet require
great taste and discretion in the artist to distribute them
well : as accessories they are apt to predominate. Pearls,
precious stones, gold, &c. ought to be happily introduced
or totally omitted; at any rate they ought to be rather
scarce than profuse. Even ornaments in architecture, if
too crowded, lose their effect, and injure more material
articles : in a picture they are too closely allied to minutiae.

OUTLINE is the same as Contour. Outlines ought
to be pure, gliding, graceful, and free; not hard, nor
offensive, nor every where equally visible, or equally detached
from the back ground.

OUTRE, excessive, exaggerated, forced, beyond nature.

J: AINTING is the art of representing objects by means of
design and colours. As nature is infinitely various, as well
in objects as in effects, and painting an imitative art of un-
limited extent, like the source from whence it originates,
the greatest genius may find sufficient scope for exertion in
any one branch of art to which it inclines ; and excellence
in this is very much to be preferred before a superficial
acquaintance with many branches.

Painting

PAS 159

Painting is usually divided into several classes.

Painters of History.

Painters of Portraits.

Landscape Painters.

Battle Painters.

Marine or Ska-piece Painters,

Animal or Cattle Painters,

Flower Painters.

Architecture Painters.

Decoration and Scene Painters,

Still-life Painters.

Miniature Painters.

Painters in Enamel.

Painters on Glass, &c. &c.

As to the manners of painting, they have already been
treated : it is easy to perceive that each department requires
much study and knowledge, as well as management proper
to itself.

PASSAGE signifies the gradation of different tints of
colours, &c. into each other, and the interval between the
Jights and shades of an object represented : such passage
should be insensible and imperceptible. For this effect the
light should gradate into the shadow, and the shadow into
the light, the whole harmonizing by means of the demi-
tints ; so that each seems to be but a continuation of the
other, and losing itself, as it were, in the other, yet mani-
festing a distinction, though not a harshness.

PASSIONS have been already treated in the Lectures :
•they must always be studied from nature, and in the best
antiques and pictures. The philosophical study of the pas-
sions, if not indispensable to an artist, yet cannot fail of
being extremely useful to him on many occasions.

PASTICHE.

i6o PET

PASTICHE. This is an Italian term, applies^ to pic-
tures painted by one master in the manner of another mas-
ter, counterfeiting not only his style of drawing, but also
his colouring, handling, See. Vide Imitator.

MiGNARD, to pique Le Brun, painted a Magdalen in
the manner of Guido ; he put on her head a cardinal's cap,
and painted the tresses of her hair, &c. upon it : it was so
perfect an imitation, that Le Brun, and every body with
him, regarded it as a genuine Guido. Mignard alone
maintained the contrary, and, to prove his property, told
them they would find painted under the hair a cardinal's
cap. Le Brun, thus convinced, replied to him, '* Well,
then, always paint Guides."

PATERA, a shallow vase, or rather a kind of saucer,
used by the ancients in their sacrifices. On medals we often
sec the figures of divinities, &c. holding out a. patera, as if
to receive their share of the offerings. In architecture, the
patera serves as an ornament in the frieze of the Doric
order, Sec. As this was a sacred utensil, its application is
proper to sacred edifices, temples, &c. among the ancients.

PEDESTAL, a square body on which columns, &c. arc
placed.

PEDESTRIAN, in sculpture, is a figure standing on its
feet, in contradistinction from equestrian.

PEDIMENT, a low triangular ornament in the front of
buildings, and over doors, windows, &c.

PERSIAN FIGURES. Vide Caryatides.

PERSPECTIVE has been treated in the Lectures.

IL PETIMENTO is an Jtahan term, used to signify
those studies in which the parts are turned various ways; for
instance, several heads, or anns ; legs thrown about on all
sides, &c. whereby the author has endeavoured to discover
and jjelect that attitude which best suited his subject.

PIAZZA,

P O R !6i

PIAZZA, a continued arched way or vaulting, under
which to walk, &c.

PICTURESQUE signifies what is allied to picture, and
coincides with its principles, relating either to attitude,
composition, or expression. It has heen defined — **a piquant
and singular choice of natural effects, heightened with spirit
and taste, and supported by reason and intelligence."

PIER, a kind of pilaster or buttress, to support,
strengthen, or ornament. The pier of a bridge is the foot
or support of the arch ; the wall between windows or doors
is a pier ; also square pillars of stone or brick, to which
gates to an entrance are hung.

PILASTER, a square pillar or column, usually placed
against a wall, projecting not more than one fifth or one
sixth of its diameter ; has the same proportions and orna-
ments as a column, but no diminution.

PILLAR. This word is generally used in architecture,
in common with column, though, strictly speaking, they
are different; thus the supporters in Gothic architecture are
pillars, but can never be properly termed columns, from
which they vary in shape and every particular.

PLASTER Figures are casts from moulds taken from
originals of the same size : they are among the most agree-
able, convenient, and beneficial subjects of study, and by
their means the beauties of the most exalted models of art
are communicated to many students, and at a reasonable
purchase. Vide Gypsum.

PORCH, an arched way or covering at the entrance ot
great bi.ilciings, particularly churclies.

PORTICO, a continued range of coluiTins covered at top,
to shelter from the weather; also a common name to build-
ings which have covered walks supported bv pillars. It
had anciently these distinctions, when on the outside of

DiCT. Edit. 7. Y the

i6a P O K

the building it was called peripterium ; and wVicn on *he in-
side of a hall, court, &c. perstyi'mm; the i)iace lof walii-
ing, porticus. Among the ancients these were iJi.hlv onia-
niented, and of great extent. The remains of itie jjorueo
at Palmyra shew it to have been fall four thousanu feet lona:.
There was a square portico at Athens, whose circumference
was fourteen lumdred feet, adorned with Corinthian pillars,
and a great variety of excellent paintings, and therefore called
poikile.

PORTRAIT, a representation of some particular person,
whom it so closely resembles as to be readily known by
those acquainted with the original.

The merit of portrait-painting is not confined to mere
likeness, line for line; a very middlmg painter may herein
perform wonders; but to likeness must be added, expres-
sion of the temperament, the character, air, and disposi-
tion of the person painted. Every person has his appro-
priate character, which must be hit at the most favourable
moment, and to the best advantage ; for although flattery
be with reason condemned in portraits, yet as every person
looks better, in every sense, at some times than at others,
it is surely very allowable that his best and most agreeable
appearance should rather be selected than his less happy
moments; and if when he sits for his picture it be not
his most favourable time, why should not a painter art-
fully treat his portrait with reference to such favourable ap-
pearance? But this must be done secundum art em, with-
out exaggeration, or violation of fidelity ; it must be so
concealed as to seem the spontaneous effect of nature itself.

It is allowable, when the original has defects or blemishes,
to conceal them by art: for instance, I'rince Antigonus;,
who had but one eye, was drawn by Apellfs in profile on
the other side of his face; and thus Le Bkun has repre-
sented

PRO 163

sented Alexander (who stooped in his neck). in such aa
attitude, as, by its condescension, artfully conceals that
bad habit.

■■ The natural character and mental disposition of any per-
son should be faithfully preserved and gracefully r.dorned ;
if he be naturally grave, by no means represent him laugh-
ing, but endeavour at dignity ; if he be naturally jovial and
merry, let him not be austere in his portrait, but temper
his mirth with manliness ; keep beauty free from affectation,
and only heighten it with grace.

POSITION. Vide Attitude.

PRIMING is an operation performed on the cloths pre-
pared for painters' use before they are fit to receive colours.
As the cloth is not close between the threads which com-
pose it, these interstices must be filled up, roughnesses, &c,
must be smoothened, so that the whole surface may be
level, uniform, and neat. The first layer is usually, we
believe, a coat principally of glue to fill up the threads, then
the cloth is rubbed with pumice-stone, afterwards a coat of
oil-colour, of a proper lint and mixture, is spread over the
whole with a large and pliable knire. Many old painters
preferred white for the primed grounds of their cloths,
others painted on t!ie cloths without priming. The present
cold grounds were introduced by Sir Godfrey Kneller :
a much better effect would be produced by priming of a
redder, warmer hue; some have thought a priming of dis-
temper was superior to all others.

PRIMITIVE COLOURS are white, yellow, blue, red,
and black ; from mixtures of which all others may be com-
posed.

PROFILE is a side view of any object, as of a building,
&c. ; but is gencrallv used in reference to a face seen on
one side only, as on medals, coins. Sec. It is seldom a

Y 2 profile

i64 PRO

profile is so graceful a likeness as a three quarters or nearly
ftill face, because it permits less artifice of light and shadow,
and possesses less variety.

PRONOUNCED, a metaphorical expression, used in de-
sign, to signify a part. Sec. well marked, accurately ren-
dered and expressed ; as of hands and feet, for instance, to
express with firmness and decision the outlines, the joints,
&c. ; and in a figure, the hands, the feet, &c. As in
language we pronounce our words distinctly by which we
compose a sentence, so in design we pronounce distinctly
the parts by which we compose a whole ; but as we wish
to speak without harshness, though articulately, so should
our figures appear without harshness, though well pro-^
nounced,

PROOFS are impressions taken off at the roHing-pre3»
by engravers, in order to observe the progress of their plates,
and the truth of their work.

Pkoofs are also a small number of impressions taken off
when the plate is finished, but usually before the insertion
of the writing (which omission is meant to distinguish them
from succeeding prints) : they are therefore printed in the
prime state of the plate, before it has received any injury
from working, and may justly be supposed to present the
workmanship of the engraver in all its beauty. This, to-
gether with the small number taken off, greatly enhances
their value.

PROI'ORTION is the relation of the dimensions of parts
to the whole, or to each other; it is that establishment, or
law of nature, whereby lengths and breadths of mem-
bers, &c. are fixed and decided. As without the just intel-
ligence of proportion, every object runs the risk of becoming
unnatural, it is evident that those whose study and business

R A S 165

it is to follow nature, ought to be intimately acquainted with
those regulations which nature has appointed.

PROPRIETY is the regulator of composition, deter-
mining not only the whole, but also the parts ; including
the disposition, character, and effect of every object ; the
truth, decorum, and probability of every thing introduced*

It is to be lamented that many artists will not give them-
selves the trouble to acquire competent information on this
article, whose control would prevent those absurdities which
disfigure many capital productions ; such as naked figures in
sacred buildings ; dogs fighting for bones in royal palaces ;
modern dresses in treating antique subjects. Sec. which are no
less misplaced than cannons and muskets in Alexander's bat-
tles. These glaring faults are not less reprehensible, though
less laughable, than a straight sheath to a bended scymitar ;
Vulcan's forge placed against tapestry hangings ; or a
Cyclops holding in his hand one end of a bar of red-hot
iron, while he hammers the other end : nor will propriety
permit Eve to wear woven and silken garments, or Adam to
support an immense peruke full curled and powdered. The
control of propriety extends even to smaller subjects, and
when consulted by artists, is of very great utility in pre-
venting errors.

PYRAMID, a structure, which, from a square, trian-
guhr, or other base, rises gradually to a point.

JlvASP is a tool used by sculptors : there are several kinds,
as straight, bent, &c. having teeth of different degrees cf
fineness. The rasp differs from a file by the projection of
its teeth.

RECESSION

i66 REP

RECESSION is the reverse to advanxing : its principles
are tenderness, union, and even indistinctness. It is best
seen when opposed to its contrary.

REDUCTION is the manner of copying large subjects
on a smaller scale. To do this vvith accuracy, the original
is divided into a certain number of squares, by means of
lines (threads, if it be a picture, just tacked at the outside
on the straining frame) drawn from top to bottom, and
crossed by others from side to side; the proposed copy is
next divided into an equal number of squares, which are so
much smaller in proportion to the former, as the copy is
less than the original. By observing accurately in the cor-
responding parts of the squares, where the contours fall,
the whole is outlined with great readiness and exactness.
This method is not only the simplest, but also the most
correct, notwithstanding all endeavours to perfect mathe-
matical instruments for this service.

REFLECTION is the rebounding of rays of light from
one body or surface to others ; rays thus reflected always
partake somewhat of the colour of that object which
lebounds them, and hereby produce a variety of tender
effects, which in painting have an admirable delicacy and
truth, very greatly promoting harmony and union.

RELIEF or RELIEVO, in sculpture. Vide Alto or
Basso.

RELIEF, in painting, signifies that distinctness and dif-
ference of objects from their back grounds, whereby they
seem to project and advance. Thus white stands off from
black, as black from white; thus a dark tree relieves against
a bright sky, or a while steeple against a heavy cloud : this
is a principal ingredient in force.

RIlPETITION of a design, picture, Sec. is one per-
formed by the same artist who produced the original, gene-
rally

RES 167

rally to oblige some friend. Repetitions are not always
mere copies, but the artist inserts variations, &c. according
to his fancy or his judgment.

7b REPEAT HIMSELF, is equivalent to copy h'im^elf\ and
is a fault arising from want of variety, and fecundity of
genius.

REPOSE is that effect of a piece on the eye, whereby it
becomes an object to be inspected with pleasure and conti-
nued satisfaction.

Glare exceedmgly offends the eye; it may attract notice
at first, but after a very little time the eye turns away
satiated, for want of something to relieve and interest it.
But when glare is moderated by repose, the composition
becomes not only attractive to the eye, but also retentive
of its inspection.

The principles of repose are breadth of tender lights and
shades supporting each other, forbidding all strong spots
of I'ght, or holes of dark, but delighting in gentle grada-
tions and allied variety.

REPOSO is an Italian term, applied to a picture repre-
senting the Holy Family resting on tlicir journey to Egypt,
or ill Egypt after their journey.

REi- b^MBLANCE, a conformity of lines, colours, ex-
pressions, &c. of a copy to an original, whether tbat ori-
ginal be naiuie or any cinev, or in whatc-ver manner that
copy be made. In portraiture, to which it is most fre-
quently applied, it expresses the likeness produced in a pic-
ture to the person w ho sits for that purpose. Very accurate
resemblance is sometimes the result of labour ; but as this
is not the whole which ought to be sought in a picture, it
should always be remembered that grace, character, ex-
pression, and dignity, are proper associates with resem-
blance. It is not always that a resemblance is caught in
5 tl-^e

i68 - R O T

the first stages of a picture ; and let not the artist nor the
patron be discouraged at this — if the picture be like when
finished, that is enough. On the other hand, it often
happens that a picture which is like the party at first, loses
part of its resemblance in finishing. Many masters when
in the early stages of a portrait they have been happy in
catching the resemblance, have there terminated their
laboi.rs, and would proceed no funhtr.

RETOUCHED Pictuuks, are those which having been
nearly completed by a master's disciples, are afterwards
finished by his own hand. Among masters of great busi-
ness, this is a common practice, ifnd many have regularly
retouched their pupils' copies.

Retouched is also spoken of a picture repaired, or
restored where damaged. In speaking of engravings, it is
always taken in this sense, for reparations done to a plate
after it has been injured, by working a great number of
impressions.

RICH. A rich picture is one in which all that relates
to the subject is represented by figures placed with ehgance
and propriety, where the groupes, the forms, the tints of
colours, he. arc so managed, allied, and supported, o dis-
tributed throughout the whole, that the eye wanders, as it
were, from part to part with complete satisfaction, and
without injury to the principal or leading ingredient of the
piece, which retains all its precedence and importance.
jRich is sometlnKs spoken of the accompaniments of a sub-
ject, when the accessories are noble, grand, ornamental,
and becoming, and when they not only mark, but illustrate
the mniii incident represented.

ROTUNDA, a building which is round both within and
without.

S C H 169

To.ROUND A FIGURE, or other-object, is to, give it the
appearance of those prominent, and those withdrawing parts,
those advancings and retirino;s which nature offers. As thig
is to be efteeted on a flat surface, it has its diffiouUy ; but
is usually accnmpiished by close attention, to the lights and
shadows, and especially to the reflex lights, whose eff"ect is
weaker than that of the main light, and contributes greatly
to produce a rounding of parts.

RUINS, as a part of Landscape, have already been
treated in the Lecture?.

In general, when Ruins are spoken of, the expression
refers to views of those majestic remains of antiquity with
•which Italy abounds, whose mutilated remains produce
very noble effects.

RUSTIC : the term is applied to those stones in a build-
ing which are hatched, or picked in holes, resembling a
-natural rough appearance.

OANDBAG is a kind of cushion used by engravers ; it is
from four to six or more inches in breadth, in thickness
one to three inches : it is composed of two surfaces of lea-
ther, strongly sewed together, and filled with fine sand. It
is used bv being placed on the table, where it keeps the
plate which is laid upon it somewhat raised from the table,
for the greater facility of being turned in all directions, ac-
cording to the course of the stroke then cutting. Some
engravers use a tin case, flat at bottom, but somevi'hai
rounded at top, and covered with leather, which at once
serves the purposes of a sandbag and of a case to hold tools :
it is made of a convenient size for being carried in the
pocket.

SCHOOL is a term expressing that series of artists who
DicT. Edit. 7, 7, have

,70 S C II

have lived iii any country, and wiiose works, thereforcy
have possessed more or less conformity ot manner and
principles.-!- "'' .vii ;>ri':nv/ c.;.. .;o.a;^fi,.;b£ ^a^il^

The term also describes • the disdplos of 'a' great master,
Avho, driiwiiig-their' principles; from the 'sawve.&oartey may
naturally be sivpposed to have many ideas and modes m
common. The term school, therefore, is leather .ailied. to
the style of art and resemblance of manner, than to ideotiLy
.of country or of residence. ' '"'

Of national schools, the principal, are the Ed MAN i. the
Venetian, the Lombard, the Flemis^-j to which may
be added, the German, the French, and latterly the
English. As each of these schools has its respective
manner, a few hints on each may be acceptable. : . /
. ;.The Italians drew from the antique such superiors adyan-
tages of style and elegance, that the Romans <wlJ.) espe-
cially abounded in antiquities) surpassed all their, Compe-
titors in purity of Design: not contented with.a mere nni-
tation of nature, they endeavoured, like the authors ot the
examples before them, to surpass and improve it. Thejr
happily adopted the most noble and interesting atti-
tudes and expressions of the figure. The countenance they
tathei^ wished to render vigorous than beautiful j cons>deni^
lit as'the irii^ror of our passions and' sensations.
-'^The Veihetian school, unequal in purity of design to the
'Roman, because not favoured svith such excellent m-
8tructorfr> applied itself to the more captivating graces- of
colouring;' and its dcpciidcnt principles; nor was its labour
without ^sucit'ea^; the abilities of Titian, Pallo Vero-
NESE, &c'. have secured its reputation. • '^ ^^ "^^"'

CoRREGlo, as chief of "the Lombard ' sebool, siidceeded
wonderfully in colouring, in breadth, and greatness of man-
ner; but being, equally with Venice, destitute of capital ari-
iiques, the Lombard school has little to boast of in Design

The

sen 171

The Flemish, and German schools, never proposed to
themselves (like the Roman) to surpass nature, to add new
beauties, to omit, or conceal actual blemishes, but confined
iheir excellence to fidelity. They succeeded, indeed, in that,
to the prejudice of other no less important branches of art.
If the person, for instance, who sat as a model of Venus or
Juno, was herself beautiful, the goddess was a gainer by
her beauty, and appeared in correspondent charms ; if, on
the contrary, the model was unamiable, so much the worse
for the goddess, who suffered correspondent injustice. To
this exact and faithful imitation of nature, they owe never-
theless, that truth and vigour of colouring, and that union
of effect, for which their productions are examples to painters
pf other nations.

The works of the French school, coincident with the ge-
nius of the nation, possess vivacity and lightness : conipot
tsitions lively and animated ; brilliant, not solid j sparkling,
not rich j and fluttering, rather than elegant. The quick
imagination of the French forbids that continuance, perse-
verance, and depth of study, which might raise them tp
equality with the Italian schools. Yet they possess a certain
sprightliness, pleasure, joy, all life and spirit, the toujours
gatj the laughing loves, which to those who object not to
fairy land, are highly entertaining.,

The English school seems to bid fair for rivalling the
Italians in solidity of style and depth of thought; but whe-
ther it will equal them in composition, or in colouring, is
a*problem not yet solved; nor, perhaps, capable of solution,
while portrait-painting is the branch of art principally en-
couraged by the British public.

In sculpture, the genius of the various nations seems much
the same as in painting. In engraving, the French have
t^ken the lead, which seems 7ioiv abandoned to the English.

It must be understood, that exceptions to these cha-

z 2 ractcristica

172 SET

racteristlcs of the schools, are not infrequent: not all the
Komans were great dcaigneis: and among the Flemings,
Rubens, Vandyck, and others, have much to boast of be-
side colouring. Le Sueur, Le Brun, Poussin, were hardly
French in manner or composition.

SCRAPE is a term used to express the operation of con-
ducting a subject in mezzotinto, which is not properly by
engraving, for that requires thiit the copper be cut out with
a tool, whereas the progress of mezzotinto is effected by
scraping away thai burr which otherwise would print entirely
black.

SCRAPER is a thin tool somewhat like the blade of a
penknife, which being whetted to a sharp edge toward the
point, is used by engravers in mezzotinto, for cutting away
the burr from the plate, in order to produce the lights.

Scraper is a tool used by engravers to cut off the lurr
xvhich accompanies strokes made by a graver. It is some-
times square, sometimes triangular, &c. It is used also
to scrape away blemishes, or to take out parts which
require to be replaced by others.

SCULPTURE has been already treated.

SECTION is a term in architecture, signifying a geome-
trical representation of the internal construction of a house.
Sec. the wall which forms the impediment to such a sight
being supposed absent. If the front wall, for instance,
be supposed absent, then the whole interior of the front
^ooms is shewn in the section : if the side wall (or any other)
be absent, then so much o^ the rooms, &c. as adjoined
that wall is rendered visible. This representation by sections,
though absolutely ideal, is yet very useful to shew the con-
nexions of apartments, and how they are adapted to each
other. It shews also (heir measures, proportions, &c.

To SET A MODEL is to give it that situation, light, atti-

tudc; Sec. in which it is to be studied,

SHADES

S H A 173

SHADES may be taken in senses somewhat different^
as being more or less gradated toward shadow. It seems
improper, to say a hght shadow j the terms arc contradic-
tory; yet we say, a lighi, or perhaps, more properly, a sliglU
shade, and thus it may be considered as allied to dcmi-tint;
and shade may be intermediate between demi-tlnt and
shadow.

SHADOWS. Vide the Lectures : vide also Chiaro
oscuRO, Darks, &c.

Shadows are those stronger shades, which being al-
most totally "deprived of light, seem dark and deep. Sha-
dows by their opposition relieve and heighten the piquancy
of the lights : but they should support each other, by com-
position, and by apposition. Being well composed, they
should form masses of combined effort; being properly
placed, they should relieve the eye of a spectator, by sober
harmony, and by correct reference to the general principles
of the piece.

Shadows deprive the parts they obscure, of much of that
difference of colour, and piquancy of colour, which other
parts exposed to the light possess : so that green, blue,
brown. Sec. differ less from each other's colour in the sha-
dows, than they do in the lights. In fact, if all shadows were
assimilated in colour, the eye, properly placed, would hardly
distinguish the deception.

Strono; shadows should never mingle amono- strong lisfhts.

Strong shadows should never cross the members of a
f gnre, whether naked, or clothed.

Strong; shadows should be reserved till wanted.

SHARPNESS is a fault, when found at the edges, or
outlines, of objects, it renders those objects too cutting
to the eye, and as if ihcv were pasted on the picture, or
drawing, iu which they occur : but sharpness^ as signifying

n. more

174 S K E

a more marked and distinct representation of Certain parts,
is an advantrage, not to those parts onlv, but to the whole
piece, if if be well placed, as it contributes to verisimility
and to finishing; and greatly to effectj as making certain
parts tell more effisctualjy to the eye of the spectator.

SILENCE is a name given to a picture representing the
sacred Child, who is asleep, held by his holy Mother, who is
reprimanding somebody, usually St. John the Baptist, for
attempting to wake him. To desire authority for such
representations, would be to, embarrass painters beyond
their ability ; they must stand as instances of unrestrained
imagination.

SILVERY is spoken of a tone of colouring which is bright
and clear; rather a little grey, perhaps, but no more than
js agreeable. The silvery tone of Teuiers in some of his
pictures is much admired.

SIMPLICITY is equally removed from insipidity, and
extravagance. It is the effect of a cood choice, the enemy
of affectation, the usual companion of grace, and the gene-
ral attendant on nature, especially when not vitiated by over
refinement.

SKETCH is the first labour of the hand to represent
conceptions of the mind ; the first form given to ideas : a
sketch perfected becomes a finished performance. The slight
skeUlt of a master is more valuable than the laboured finish.!-
ings of ignorance.

Sketches are usually first thrown upon paper with chalk,
&c. Those smaller pictures arc also called sketches, which
a master makes before he proceeds to forward a large work :
in these he sees not merely the effect of his design, but of
his colours, his keeping, and (jf the wliole ordonnance in ge-
neral, and he varies them in his finished perfortnance ac-
cording to remarki^ and improvemculs niiiue on his sketcl*.

SKETCH.

»|

SOT 175

SKETCH. Vide Drawings.

SKY. Vide the Lectures on Perspective. .-■,'■■

SLAVISH. Vide Copy, Constraint. To copy even na-
ture slavishly, is to injure genius; whose flights, when conr
ducted by judgment, are not depreciated by freedom. But
in general slavery may be considered as indicating a little
(and perhaps ill-taught) practitioner, accustomed rather to
see nature obscurely through borrowed optics, than clearly
for himself. .'. ■ ;

SOFFIT, the under part or ceihng of a cornice, which
4s usually ornamented ; the under part of the coroiia is called
the soffit ; this word is also applied to the ceiling of anarch,-
the under side of an architrave, &c.

SOFT. ' This term has two senses : in painting the soft*
-fiess of flesh is. commendable J it results from freshness
and delicacy of tints, . from' sweetness of outline, and
from tender management of the articulations :— i. e. the
nuiscles are plump, as if in health, instead of being, shrunk,
as if suflering under famine ; thev are full,^a« if clothed with
fat, and with skin^ rather than as jf they, were, stripped to
shew their anatomy. ^'AVAk<i^^

' Softness is in draperies a defect;, though draperies
should not be hard, or dry, vet they may be treated on the
^ther extreme, and, through excess of softness, fail of that
effect which they have in nature, and ought to have in imi-
tation. ■ :

To SOFTEN THE touches in a picture, i:^ to work the
etlges of them kindly into theirneighbours, to avoid hard-
ness : it is to manage the lights and shadows, so that they
agreeaWy issue in each, other ; without cutting against eac'h
other, and thereby^ofiending the eye. ;

SoFTSis&s is spoken of > the general result or eff'ect of a
--i,;i£.n ■•. ; ! represeptalion :

176 S P I

representation : this arises from judicious combination of
principles, and from delicacy in management of the parts.

A picture may be too soft ; it may want spirit. A draw-
ing, especially in water-colours, may be too soft ; it iH?.y
want decision: and an engraving may be too soft ; it may
want force and effect.

SOUL of a figure, or of a picture, is taken in a sense re-
lated to Animation, signifying that almost reality and
life, which happy management bestows on some compo-
sitions, wherein the figures seem intently employed in such
actions as the painter has represented. Copies seldom
possess this fire, and vivacity j they lose it in transcription ;
and this deficiency forms a principal distinction of such
imitations. Finishing often deprives a subject of that lively
and animated touch which it. received from tlie. master at
first: ov-er-scrupulous correctness. has the same tendency.

SPATULA is an instrument not unlike a spoon, somr*-
what broad, and rounded at one end ; the other end is cut
sqnare. 'It is used by sculptors to model in clay, also by
jnodcllcrs in wax, to sQirape itheir iigures into form.

SPEAKING Picture is one which possesses so much
fidelity, nature, and soul, as to seem almost possessed of
speech also ; and to need no other endowmentto give it life.
SPHYNX is a monstrous compound figure, only tolerable
in allegory. It represents a lioness in the body, with & wo-
man's head, neck, and breasts. What it originally intended
is not known : it appears among the hieroglyphics of Eg)^' 3
and adjacent to the famous .pyramids of that country, is the
no less famous sphynx, whose leiigth exceeds one hundred
feet : sphynxes arc used as ornaments to gateways, Sep.

SPIRIT is, like effect, the result:; fiJcartfAtl combination,
wherein, by judicious cxmtrast, by force, by life, and anima-
tion, the objects represented seem to vie with nature herself.

SriRlTED

ST U , 177

SriRiTED PenC'B«> design, colouring, &c. expresses the
vigorous exertion of those particular branches of art.

SPLENDOUR, like brilliancy, to which it is equiva-
lent, relates either to cftect, or to colouring. The splendour
of colours is best seen in Rubens's pictures. Splendour
only, is a very moderate recommendation of a picture : but
splendour heightens other merits, and renders the whole
more piquant.

SQUARE. Vide Reduction, in Perspective.

STATUE is a representation in sculpture, of a figure
which should be standing (from the Latin stare, to stand) j
bat the term is applied to figures in any attitude.

The Greek statues are generally naked, and of beautiful
proportions, and execution.

The Roman statues are generally clothed, and from their
dresses, receive a variety of names, as Consular, Imperial, &c.

CuBULAR statues, are figures seated in chairs.

Allegorical statues, are virtues, vices, rivers, cities^
Sec. Vide also Equestrian and Pedestrian.

STIFF is generally used in relation to attitude, and out-
line. A stiff attitude is one which represents a figure as if
constrained, uneasy, forced, in respect of the muscles and
their actions. Stiffness often arises from the lines formed
by the actions of the members of a figure being too much
alike, or seen too direct, without variety, without grace. A
stiff outline is one which has too much strength, too much
uniformity, a hardness, a dryness, which shews neither li-
berty of mind, nor liberty of hand.

STUDIES are designs taken from nature, of whatever
subjects are requisite to enter into a composition. When-
ever an artist has his doubts, he recurs to nature ; whenever
what he has done appears not equal to what it might be,
either in correctness, or in cflect, he consults nature. Stu^

DiCT. Edit, 7. A A dies_,

178 STU

dies, the-refare, comprehend Bgures, beadsjljands, feet, trees,
plants, animals, flowers, fruits, earth, sky, and water,
&c. Sec.

As studies from living models, draperies, &c. may be
not only composed, but even painted from nature at home,
nothing need be said concerning them : but with regard to
landscape, a few hints, relatiiig to the manners of study,
may be of use.

, The principles and divisions of landscape have been given
in the Lectures : to these we refer, and shall only notice
the smaller parts, or objects. Some painters study the
objects of their landscapes after nature, in the open air, by
making exact and finished drawings from them, without the
addition of colours: others paint them in oil, upon strong
paper, primed with a demi-Lint; this manner tbey think
convenient, as the colours, by sinking somewhat into the
paper, permit a repetition of colour upon colour, and con-
sequently great exactness. For this purpose, they carry a
small flat box, which holds pallette and pencils, &c. This
method is no doubt the most likely to be correct, but it is
attended with some incumbrance, especially if the objects,
or the scene to be studied, be distant. Others only draw
the outlines, and slightly tinge them with colours, to secure
their memory, and this may be done very conveniently by
means of a small box of water-colours, which is put in the
pocket, and holds every material in little room. Some
painters only inspect very accurately the objects they require,
and by strength of memory carry away their likeness; while
some return often to the same spot, or the same object,
and by repeated investigation study it intimately. I" fact,
it is well known what changes different lights make in the
same view, or the same objects, and it seldom happens
that a single inspection sc!icts the happiest time, or discovers

every

SUB 179

tvery "beauty -of which a scene may be capable. Moreover,
many beauties of nature are transitory and volatile ; these
ought to be caught by the black lead pencil, and such
marks or notes inserted, as may insure a recollection of the
colours, and other peculiarities. In fact, this is a most
useful companion 3 as, without loss of time, it secures hints
sufficient for future reflections, and service. These should
always be transcribed into colours as soon as may be,
while the memory retains the ideas with certainty.

The best time for study has been said to be the evening,
during twilight, for general light; because, not only the light
is more equally diffused than in the sharp light of the sun,
but the effects are warmer than in the morning twilight,
'who?,e freshness is peculiar to itself. All times of the year,
or of the day, are best as they are most applicable to the
business in hand. Studies by night are rather meditations,
or remarks, than studies.

STUDIED is spoken of a picture, when it has, through-
out, the air of exact resemblance to nature, when its parts
are accurate in form, and effect, and the whole is carefully
completed and finished.

STUDY has for its object, whatever is beautiful or ex-
cellent in nature; and by means of constant examination and
reflection, study acquires judgment and knowledge, discerns
accurately the truth of imitation, and ripens the genius to
maturity.

STUMP i,s a small roll of paper or soft leather, used to
stump in the shadows, &c. in drawings, in chalks, or crayons.

STYLE, in painting, is much the same as style in writing,
iiignifying the manner in which a master treats the subjects
he undertakes; whether nobly or meanly; with spirit or
heavily.

SUBJECT, is the action, or passage related by the painter,
A A 2, whether

i«o S Y M

whether originating from history, fable, or life. History
furnishes the most noble and interesting subjects j my-
thology or theistical fable, the most magnificent ; common
life the most entertaining; and low life the most droU and
laughable. But, be it always remembered, that no sub-
ject which is not perfectly in nature, can possibly be ap-
plauded by competent judges.

SUBLIME is a quality not to be attained without exertion
of the greatest abilities, in the happiest m&nner : because
no rules can be given to produce what shall be sublime.

In general we conclude, that unless a composition be
noble and interesting, the action grand and lofty, the conduct
masterly, the figures graceful, and the effect striking, it can-
not be sublime. Sublimity is allied to strength of thought,
to simplicity of relation, and expression, to pathos, and to
repose : majesty and dignity, elevation, and sometimes ter-
ror, contribute to the sublime. But, after all, this quality
must originate in the mind of the artist, and is not to be ex-
pected as the fruit of precept or labour.

SUNK. Colours are said to be siinky or sunk bij when^
being laid on a cloth, &:c. they appear flat, lifeless, and void
of brilliancy : this depends on the state of the cloth, or
ground colour, upon which these colours are laid : for if not
sufficiently dry, and hardened, the pil of the colour laid
over it is absorbed, and the colour itself is left dull. Some-
times colours which arc sunk recover on being varnished,
sometimes the parts must be re-painted.

SWEETEN is spoken in much the same sense as soften,
in reference to the melting of the edges of colours. Sec. into
each other.

SYMPATHY is spoken of colours, and is the contrary
to Antipathy.

When the mixture of two colours produces a third, whofle

tonti

T A S i8i

tone and appearance is agreeable, such colours are said to be
friendlvj or sympathetica!. Blue, for example, united to
yellow, forms green ; therefore blue and yellow are friends.
Blue, on the contrary, mixed with vermillion, produces an
offensive colour ; whence it follows, that blue and vermillion
are enemies: although the same blue mixed with another
kind of red, may form a beautiful purple.

JL AME, is when a composition, figure, &c. wants anima-
tion and spirit ; when that vigour which ought to enliven it,
seems evaporated, and the whole appears as if the artist had
been void of sentiment, and feeling, while producing it.

TASTE is a term used to express the mental sentiment
of the artist while engaged in his work, and which, it is na-
tural to suppose, he infuses into his performance : so that if
his taste be elegant and genteel, his works will be graceful ;
but if irregulair an^ wild, his works will be extravagant.
When a picture, 8cn. is said to possess taste, it implies that
it exhibits lively impressions of the artist's mind. The
term is generally used in a good sense, unless some distin-
guishing adjective be prefixed.

Taste is also used to express the satisfaction of a spec-
tator in surveying a performance, which appears to him ex-
cellent : thus we say, such a thing is, or is not, to one's
taste ; i, e. agreeable to one's mental perceptions.

Taste is sometimes used in the same sense as manner;
for the peculiar touch, colouring, drawing, See. of any mas-
ter, or school : and is either natural to an artist, and good,
or bad, according to his views of nature, and objects ot

stud\- :

i8a t H E

study: ftr Urtifcial; the result of education and habit.
Taste is also national: every nation having a character pe-
culiar to itself, in its works of art, which, more or less,
pervades the manner of the artists of that nation.

TEASED is spoken of colours, which instead of being
laid on, and imparted to the canvass at once, are too much
worked about, ^'htxthy they lose their brilliancy, and just
effect. This over-care, and want of determinate handling,
is injurious to all colours, but especially to the lighter.

TENDER CoLOUKS are those of lighter hues, and best
adapted for distances, &c. where forcible colours would be
improper.

TENDER Manner, consists in a certain sweet, and soft
union, of agreeable and pleasant colours; it rejects ail sud-
den and harsh passages from colour to colour; or from
light to shade; and delights in harmonious gradations, and
demi-tints.

TERM, is a statue, whose upper part represents a human
figure, and the lower part usually ends straight : or, with
mouldings, and sometimes (but rarely) with feet only.
They were used anciently to mark the boundaries of lands,
&c. whence they were called termini ; or from the god Ter-
minus, who was thus represented, and thus employed.

Terms, as ornaments, are usually placed in gardens, in
walks, in palisades, &c. being less expensive than statues.

Marine terms arc lho.;e, whose lower parts end in fishes'
tails, &(,;.

Double terms, and even quadruple terms, are sometimes
composed.

THEATRE. The Theatres of the ancients were of a se-

micircaiar fcjrm, the benches or seats Ccunei) rose above

one another, and were distributed to the diflcrent orders, in

the following manner : The foremost rows next the stage,

4 called

T H U. 183

called orokestraj answering to our pit, were assigned lo the
senators, and ambassadors of foreign states ; fourteen rows
behind them to the equiics or knights; and the rest to the
people. That part which we call the stage had this divi-
sion; scentty the scene itself, adorned with columns, sta-
tues, pictures, &c. according to the nature of the play ex-
hibited. Postscen'mnij the place behind the scene, where
the actors dressed^ &c. Proscenimmj the place before the
scene, called also the pidpitumy where tlie actors played,
and the cAorwi came to rehearse, answering to our stage. In
the Greek theatres, the orchestra, which included a very
large space, made part of the scene, and here the actors
danced : the proscenium being very shallow or small. But
in the Roman theatres, this part v.as. assigned to the sena-
tors. See: there was a kind of canopy, or covering, stretched
across, to sheltej: from heat or rain, called peplus.

Theatres were, for a long time, of wood and without
seats: Pompey first erected a theatre of stone, which would
contain forty thousand people ; and to avoid the animadver-
sijOn of the censors, he dedicated it as a temple to Venus :
there were afterwards several others built; one by Balbus;
and another dedicated to Marcellus ; which was large, and
very handsome, as appears by its remains. Adjoining this
tbea,tr^, behind, and round the stage end, was a large double
portico, where the spectators took shelter In bad weather.

THUNDER, or Thunderbolt, is the name given to
tha.t flame, which more properly represents lightning, and
is held by Jupiter as God of the sky. It should be a flame
from which issue darts; but this is varied as suits conve-
nience. Sometimes it is represented as darting to a consi-
derable distance.

This device is occasJQnally used as an ornament in archi-
tecture,

TIMES,

i84 T O U

TIMES. Vide MANNERsTZrs;, second, and third.

TIMID is nearly the same as constraint ; it is the ab-
sence of liberty and freedom, and usually marks a copy.

TINTS of COLOURS, may be conceived as a regular scale ^
of colour, descending from light to dark : thus, red may
be very light, then somewhat lower, then middling, then
darkish, then very deep; according to its participation of,
or distance from white, or the nearest approach of redness
to white. And the same may be said of its relation to any
other colour: as a reddish-brown tint, a reddish-yellow, Sec.

TONE of COLOUR, though partly explained by tint, yet
differs from it, as it relates to the comparative effect of
colours ; for the actual tint of a part is not varied by the
introduction of another colour near it, but its apparent tone
is almost totally changed, by the sympathy or antipathy
of such a neighbour. A good tone of colours is when the
whole is well adjusted as a composition of colours.

TORSO is the Italian name for the hack : this name is
given by way of eminence to a fragment of a statue of Her-
cules reposing, which is of capital merit, and of unlimited
cclcbritv, ever since Michael Angela declared he had learned
from it the noblest principles of his art, as a sculptor.

TOUCH is that manner which every master acquires in
applying his colours on the canvass; in this sense, we say,
a touch is lighl, delicate, spirited, firm, bold, large, &c.

Every object in nature is not the same in its appearance;
some are rough, others smooth, some very opaque and solid,
others almost transparent: these require distinct touches,
according to their distinct characters. This principle has
been carried to excess, bv those who have laboured on larfje
pictures to touch every thing variously ; because, the dis-
tance at which such pictures ought to be viewed, counteracts
the result of their care ; and thus, though the hair of

the

T R 0 185

the head, of the beard, 8cc. require a different touch from
the smooth flesh, in a picture calculated for close inspection,
yet in a large subject thev are taken as masses, because their
details would be injurious. Bold and strong touches are ne-
cessary, in whatever is to be surveyed from afar, in order to
produce their effect more fully. The great art of a good
touch is, to be neither feeble nor excessive; endeavouring
at boldness we should avoid hardness, as in endeavouring at
delicacy we should avoid tameness.

TRANSPARENT Colours, are those possessing so
little body that they permit the colours underneath them to
appear through, thereby producing the effect of glazijig.

TRANSPARENCIES are paintings upon silk, &c. with
such thin and transparent colours that the light passes
through the picture j these are much used for decorations,
illuminations, 8cc. and by means of artificial and brilliant
lights placed behind them, they have a very gay and sprightly
effect. They are painted with oil of turpentine.

Paintings on glass are transparencies, though not usually
included under the term.

TROPHY was originally an assemblage of arm.s, and
spoils of an enemy, raised by the conqueror in the field of
battle, as commemorative of his victory : afterwards, imita-
tive trophies were cut in stone, marble, &c. as triumphal
• monuments. They are generally used as ornaments and de-
corations.

Tht trophj/ o/'^t'ar is composed of shields and bucklers,
helmets, swords, lances, &c. and other military iinplemeiUs.

The marine trophy is formed of prows of ships, oars,
anchors, &e.

The trophy of science comprises books, olobes, and other
articles of study and investigation.

The trophy of vnt sic consists of violins, flutes, guitars, 8ec.
DicT. Edit. 7. B B The

i86 V A S

The rustic trophy represents ploughs, rakes, harrows, &c.

Whatever is explicit, and intimately related to the subject
to be expressed, may enter into a trophy. Vide Iconology.

TRUTH is spoken of objects so well represented, that
they are distinguishable at once : they are so natural as to
require no hesitation to determine for what they are meant.

There are upon record several very curious instances of
picturesque truth, such as that of Zeuxis, who painted so
naturally a boy holding grapes, that the birds came and
pecked at the fruit : though it must be confessed, the re-
mark of Zeuxis himself was extremely just, who said, that
this very deception was a sign the boy was not nature, or
else he would have frighted away the birds. The rival of
Zeuxis was Parrhasius, who deceived his competitor, by
painting a curtain so naturally, that Zeuxis endeavoured to
lift it up, that he might see what was under it. It is re-
lated of Rembrandt, in modern times, that having painted
the picture of his servant maid, he placed it at the window
of his house, as if she had been looking out; and diverted
himself highly, by standing behind it, and hearing the ad-
dresses of passengers to it.

TYMPAN, the flat surface or space within a pediment.

Value of COLOURS, vide Colouring.

VASE, an ornament of sculpture, usually round, smgic,
and hollow ; placed on a pedestal, or base, to decorate parts
of gardens, tops of walls, of houses, &c. ; and sometimes
to serve for ornament, instead of chimney-pots, which cer-
tainly can boast of little beauty. Vases are often enriched
with has relu'fs, and other embellishments. Vases are used

V I G 187

to adorn tombs, &c. in which case they have usually gar-
lands, festoons, &c. flung over, or around them, and they
are crowned as it were with flames, &c. All these are em-
blems of ceremonies heretofore used in burying the dead.
Vases are also derived in some of their kinds, from the
drlnking-cups of antiquity : so that being appropriate both
to the dead and the living, no wonder the use and adoption
of them in ornament is pretty general.

Vase, the body of a Corinthian capital, also an orna-
ment used in architecture, &c.

VAULT, an arched roof, the stones or materials of
which are so placed as to support each other.
' VICTORY, a female figure holding a trophy, or palm, Sec.

VIGNETTES are litde ornamental engravings, placed at
the beginnings of books, sections, chapters, Sec. (and then
termed head-pieces), or at the close of similar divisions of
a work (and then termed tail-pieces). They have, when
neatly executed, an elegant effect.

VIGOROUS Touch is an assured, determinate, certain
laying on of the colours ; which, without being teased and
scumbled about, produce the desired effect: it is the result
of skill and facility, of promptitude and judgment.

VIGOROUS Picture, is one wherein the lights are
strong and bold, the shadows give a roundness to the objects,
and where the natural opposition between the lights and
shadows is well managed ; so that making a striking im-
pression on the eye, its effect is nevertheless soft and agree-
able.

We must distinguish between a black or dark picture,
and a vigorous one : the first is bad ; either occasioned by
a bad choice, or bad breaking of colours, and is in a master
a negligence_, but oftener the effect of inexperience, either
in the mixture, or handling of colours. Many Flemish

B B 2 painte;S

i88 ~ V I R

painters liave so far adopted a black manner, as to confound
the objects in shade; and some Italians have been no less
fond of brown : but nature is neither black nor brown, nor
tlocs vigour arise from excess of such principles ; for even
in a moonlight, the reflections and softened lights must be
so managed, as to permit the contours of objects to be dis-
tinct. The major part of those pictures of great masters
v.hich arc obscured by the prevalence of brown, are thus
injured, by the lapse of time, and we ought rather to give
them credit for the harmony they once possessed, than to
criticise loo severely their present appearances; for it is
to be noted that oil tarnishes colours even on the palette,
but much more in a course of years after a picture is finish-
ed. A masterly hand, therefore, risques nothing in keep-
ing his picture of a clear, bright, and vigorous tone; that
when somewhat moderated by time (the only sense in
which time can be said to improve a picture), the harmony
and vigour may still be visible.

V^IKGIN Subject, is a story not before treated by any
painter or designer, &c.

It would be infmitely better for artists, if, instead of tor-
turing imagination in order to treat in a difl'ercnt manner
subjects already hackneyed, they would draw' from' pure and
cxhaustless sources, those striking and agreeable subjects
which have not hitherto engaged the canvass; since, in
multiplying such subjects, they increase variety, augment
the solisfaction of the public, and give scope to technical
abilities. The acquisition of virgin subjects can be no
tliluculty to liiose who possess the Bible, ancient history,
the poets, and productions of the British muse.

VIKUJN 'I'jNT is that which is first of all laid on the
clolh ; the nearer it approaches to the just tone of the

finished

IncTIONAKY of AKT. J>ii:l»p.

U:nit\

UNI 189

finished picture, the greater advantages It furnishes the artist
in his progress towards finishing.

VIRTUOSO is an Itahan term, now naturalized among
us, importing a person who has made the arts his study,
and who has attained a competent knowledge of their rules,
their practice, and their principal productions and requisites
in their various branches.

VOLUTE, the scroll or spiral horn, used io Ionic and
Composite capitals.

Understood, is spoken of a subject, in which the
rules of art are well, or ill observed. IVell understocd^ is a
commendation of that part of the art employed on a sub-
ject to which it is applied : whether it be design, expression,
colouring;, &c. the part praised is conducted in a masterly,
ingenious, and natural manner : and the author of it ap-
pears to have well understood the principles of the art, which
he has mr.nifested by his judicious execution and arrange-
ment, or effect.

UNION expresses the relation of parts to their whole :
it is in general the harmony which results from the judi-
cious management of the principles of art, proportion,
colouring, &c. whereby each object has its place, its
force, and consequence, regulated and determined. For
union of colours, breaking (which see) is of principal
utility. For union of light and shadow, vide Chiaro
oscuRO, Sec. Harshness is the great opponent of union :
union forbids any sudden, unpleasant changes of light to
dark, &c.

UNITY. Fig. I. Represents a number of balls which

the

I9« WAV

the eye is supposed to look at direct ; in which case, those
in the centre, and those only, would be distinct, clear,
and forcible, the others becoming weaker as they recede
from the centre ; the balls on the sides, though they do
not diminish in form, yet they diminish in force.

Fig. 2. Is to the same purpose, and corroborates the
idea in Lecture I. 2d Series, the centre beam, or ray from
the eye, being by far the strongest, and the lateral beams
weakening according to their distance from the centre.

The utility of this principle is to render the whole of a
composition united, by introducing that management of
forms and of force, which may adapt to each part its pro-
per importance.

UNITED is descriptive of pictures, wherein are applied
in a happy manner, the principles of union ; wherein the
whole seems to be done by the same artist, on the same
principles, with the same palette, with equal pleasure,
vigour of mind, and attention.

URN is a funeral vase, supposed to contain the ashes of
bodies which have been burnt, as in the davs of antiquity
was the customary manner of disposing of their dead ; the
allusion still continues, though the custom be no longer
practised.

W ARMTII. \'idc Colouring.

WAVING. In speaking of design, we say the outlines ot
a figure should be flowing, waving, gliding, that they may
not appear hard, starved, and stiff: they should rct^emble,
says Fr.ESNOV, the free forms of a flame of fire ; but ia
applying thirf principle to practice, wc should be vi.ry carc-

fnl.

W O R 191

ful, that the outline does not by any inaccuracy of form
produce an effect as if the bones were awry, or broken, or
xicketty. Such outlines could not be truly graceful ; but
if they could, grace would be ill purchased at such expense.

WHOLE TOGETHER, is taken as expressive of the
effect of the parts in producing a whole : and in this
sense it is nearly equivalent to union : but it sometimes is
also taken to mean, that although a piece may be in
some respects deficient, or smaller errors may have crept
in, yet upon the whole^, or take the whole together, it is
good.

WORKS are the productions of any particular master;
as we say such an one's works, Sec.

Great works are those performances which occupy
extensive spaces in churches, halls, &c. : but sometimes
the epithet great is applied to works, as significative of
abundant merit.

Works are often denoted by the mode in which they are
executed, as works in mosaic, works in sculpture, finished
works, large works, &c. These terms are sufHciently de-
scriptive without explanation.

END OF THE DICTIONARY OF TERMS.

PLATES TO THE DICTIONARY of TERMS, &c.

Attitude. Plate i. Antinous.

2. Apollo, &c.

3. Peasants, &:c.

4. Principles of

These plates are explained under the arlicle Attitude, page 18.

Camera Obscuka, p. 35, &c.

Drapery, Plate i. No. i, 2, 3, from the Apollo, ex-
plained under the article Drapenj, p. 99.

Principles of, explained by an original drawing

by Poussin, p. 100.

Do. explained by two figures from Leonardo

da Vinci, , p. loi.

Grapes, bunch of, explained, p. 129.

GRACE, principles of, as svgqcsied by Mr. Hogarth,
with a plate.

Though we cannot but maintain, that the general prin-
ciples of grace arc by no means mathematical, y^et as un-
doubtedly natural grace may be viewed the better for assist-
ance and precept, from whatever quarter it is drawn, we
have inserted some of tho^e examples uhich JNlr. Hogarth
very ingeniously applies to the support of his main argu-
ment in his '^ Analysis of Beauty." '["he lirst two rows upon
the plate are stays; of which, A i oiTcnds the eye by its stiif-
ness and contracted appearance, its lines being straight; the
lines of A 2 have a little remove from this straightness ;
which remove increases in A 3: this stay for form might lit
many persons ; but A 4 is }ct more genteel and graceful ;

J/^' HOGMiTJds rrmapn'sof GltiCE .

Dictionary of ARr.j)a;iijj.

PLATES. 193

its lines being more winding and free: this winding Is in-
creased in A 5, but in A 6 and A 7, is by excess so greatly
removed from elegance, as to fit only a Wapping landlady.

The fashion of stays, as of other parts of dress, varying
from time to time, these instances must be taken only in
their general principles : JNIr. Hogarth composed them in
1753-

The different twists of the horns beneath, relate to the
same idea; B i - is less curvated than B 2, which has a
dotted line running up it (as has also B 3), which shews how
easily excess may be introdirced. B 3 is not only a general
curve of the whole figure, but is also twisted m its parts ;
the windings of which attract and engage the eve to trace
their progress. C shews the variety of lines in the form of
a bell; the serpentine windings of the contours of the sides,
contrasted by the regular oval of the mouth, the infinite va-
riety generated by the serpentine lines of the sides, appears.,
m that no two parts of its body are in a diameter of equal
dimensions, although the whole body is nearly equally large.
D is the figure of a pine-apple, whose varied surface is
still further varied, by the serpentine lines made bv the pips,
by their regular decrease toward the top, and by the leaves
at the bottom ; it may also be observed, that the pips are
likewise varied in their forms fin nature), by projecting
somewhat at their tops, and by small hollows, Ike. grooved
in their surfaces.

E, IS a straight horn, which is merely a cone, and which,
if supposed bent into the same form as B 3, would acquire
the same elegance, but is now contrasted by the serpentme
hue which is carried around it, and shews its deficiency.

^' i^ 2, 3, 8cc. are legs of chairs composed on the same
principle as the stays, and proceeding from too straight to too
crooked ; the medium i.- the most elegant.

^''''' ^'^^^•7- f^^ " G exhibits

194 PLATES.

G exhibits simple lines nearly similar to F, and also pro-
ceeding from straight to crooked.

The result of the whole is — straight lines are stiff, poor,
mean, and inelegant; lines too much bent are redundant,
clumsy, bulging, and inconvenient ; in the medium, there-
fore, we must seek for grace, which is equally removed from
extremes; and which, by that very circumstance, is capable
of being more accurately adapted to character and compo-
sition.

PI. I. SKETCH, by the late Mr, Mortimer, being the
original thoughts for a Bacchanalian subject, and from
which he afterwards painted a picture.

PI. II. Revised Sketches of the principal figures of the
same subject, shewing the advance of improvements m
character and expression, made by the painter in the pro-
gress of his studies.

•FRONTISPIECES.

THE ORIGIN OF DESIGN,

Refers to Pliny's account of that event, noticed In the
Introductory Lecture.

BRITANNIA REWARDING THE ARTS.

The Arts arc represented as boys or genii, to signify that
they are not yet arrived at maturity. Britannia accepts
with satisfaction their various performances, supposed to be
exhibited In the Roval Academy (seen intheback ground),
and, by rewarding, excites them to superior excellence.

design.

Before the invention of paper, many ways were contrived

'<5

])I('TI{)\A1;Y. rii-eif)4.

#^^'''

SKETCH /Toni Jlorlinwr. 77 //

PLATES. 195

to procure those advantages which now we receive from that
commodity, for parchment was much too dear in price to
permit the use of it on ordinary occasions. The ancients
generally used tablets of wood waxed over ; therefore, what-
ever was inserted upon them might easily be defaced : on
these they wrote with an iron instrument or pen, called a
style ; and on such tablets, Pliny informs us, that Alex-
ander the Great ordered all the young officers in his army
to learn to draw or design. This explains the attitude of th*
figure which refers to that circumstance. The object he is
drawing from, is the celebrated antique back of an Hercules
reposing, usually called the Torso, in which Michael
Angelo Buonarotti declared he had discovered all the
principles of his art, and which he regarded as an exquisite
production : his opinion has rendered this piece of antiquity
so celebrated, that it has ever since been universally admired.
It IS but justice to such exalted talents as command uni-
versal applause by a single specimen, to repeat the name of
the artist ; which fortunately yet remains in the inscription,
from which it appears to be the work of At'OLLONius
Nestor, an Athenian,

AnOAAaNIOC NECTOPOC A0HNAIOC EnOIEI.
COLOURING. '"^

Colouring is represented by a figure attentively inspecting
a rainbow, with design to imitate its tints on a picture she
supports : the utensils of this study, the pencils, pallette, co-
lours, &c. are lying by her on the ground.

Among ail the productions or effects of Nature, none is
so brilliant and striking as the rainbow; which exhibits
not only the most lively colours, but their most harmonious
disposition and effect. Without offending-the eye by glare, it
is sufficiently distinct J without confusion, it is intimately
c c 2 blended.

196 PLATES.

blended, and softened : at the same time that Its simple and
noble arch impresses the spectator with a forcible idea of
greatness. The peacock exhibits, in the decoration of
many of his feathers, that vivacity and splendour of colours
which justly entitles him to a place in this representation.

In the emblem of colouring placed in the ceiling of the
council-room of the Royal Academy, painted by Angelica
K.\UFFMAN, she has represented the figure as dipping her
pencil in the rainbow; but when we consider that the rain-
bouf is merely an illusion of sight, and no real object, this
idea seems rather hyperbolical ; not to insist that, from the
inevitable ambiguity of these kinds of subjects, the figure
may be thought as well to be imparting colour to the rain-
bow, as bprrowing from it,

SCULPTURE.

The same passion as gave rise to the origin of Painting,
is said to bave been the parent of Sculpture. A young
woman, daughter to a potter, having endeavoured to model
some of the clay on which her father was at work, into a
likeness of her lover, gave occasion to those more expert in
the art of design, to produce the same effect on the more
durable materials of marble and stone. Without vouching
for the truth of these relations, we shall only repeat the re-
mark, that it was prettilv imagined, to make the most
amiable passion the parent of the most agreeable studies.

The figure of Sculpture holds in her hand a mallet, be-
ing one of the principal utensils in that profession ; she
kans on a block, w hich appears decorated by a bas-relief:
the busto, the level, 8cc. accompany and distinguish her.

If the size of this composition had permitted, it would
liavc been proper to have introduced some of those match-
less performances which time has not destroyed; but as our

size

^Ivm'/.

PLATES. 197

size forbids tliisj they arc better omitted than inserted by
piecemeal.

Whatever comparisons may be drawn between the merit
of the ancients and moderns in other branches of the arts,
they are allowed to be our superiors in sculi^turf, ; the
Antinous, the Apollo, the Laocoon, arc unrivalled per-
formances, and probably will ever continue insuperable ex-
amples of art.

ARCHITECTURE

Is represented by a figure sitting in the midst of a circus,
composed of various edifices in different stages of forward-
ness ; she holds in one hand a plan of sundry buildings, in
the other a pair of compasses. As the column is a princi-
pal ingredient in Architectural Composition, that, together
with her sitting posture, expresses stability. The plumb-
line, the ruler, &c. being implements used in the art, need
no explanation.

PEACE.

Peace is represented here, under the figure of a yountr
woman in handsome attire, sitting, and holding in her hand
an olive-branch, with berries on it: at a distance the im-
plements of war consuming on the altar of Peace.

This subject scarce needs any further explanation. The
olive being one of the noblest productions of the earth, and
which cannot come to maturity, if molested by the insuhs
and horrors of war, is witli evident propriety introduced with
a figure of Peace. Not the victorious laurel, or the tri-
umphant palm, but the fat, tlie fruitful olive.

Peace seems to be rather a passive, than an active qua-
lity: we have therefore placed her in a quiet and sedentary
attitude ; not as she often is introduced, herself employed in
burning the destroying sv.ord, or the bloodv spear.

PLENTY.

198 PLATES.

PLENTY.

The story of the Cornucopia is so well known, that a
repetition of it is unnecessary: as an attribute of Plenty it
holds a principal place ; it appears filled with those produc-
tions which are held in the greatest esteem by mankind in
general, as well for their utility as importance. Since hu-
man life is supported by the fruits of the earth, and " kings
themselves are served by the field," an abundance of those
fruits is not only desirable, but necessary. Should any in-
quire by what means they are attained ? we reply, Not by
sloth and idleness, by wishes and desires, but by the well-
<lirected efforts of persevering diligence, by the indefatigable
labours of industry (hinted by the bee-hive), to whom Plen-
ty unveils herself without reserve, and to whom her pro-
ductions are freely offered.

Should the sentiment expressed by this design be justly
felt by the younger part of our readers, they may eventually
have reason to remember with pleasure the subject which
taught them this useful lesson.

WAR.

Very different from the foregoing figures is that of War.
Instead of the complacent countenance and beneficent do-
nations' of the former subjects, this deals around destruc-
tion ; delights in the ruined battlement, the falling tower,
the wall breached by force, and the explosion of the most
solid buildings from their very foundations. Ferocious in
disposition, barbarous in character, he spreads devastation
wherever his power extends : he grasps in his left hand
, double torches, the signs of conflagration and terror; in the
right hand he brandishes the unrelenting poiijTiard, which
strikes not only those who resist him, but too often thesup-

liant

y/c.

. )

' //.^z.: :

^PJhrru/j(^/?!r;//r^

^ w^rM//.

PLATES. 199

liant and defenceless : and the fury of his action manifests
a mind cruel by disposition ; by habit and occupation, re-
morseless, sanguinary, and inexorable.

HOPE

Is " the medium between fear and certainty ;" we have
therefore represented her as looking forward with expecta-
tion; at the same time she supports her head with her
hand, expressing a kind of pensiveness and hesitation. The
anchor being the nope of a ship, is usually introduced into
this emblem, and appears to be a principal support of this
figure.

ENCOURAGEMENT

Is a proper companion to Hope, and in the character of
an angel, is exciting her attention and confidence towards
Heaven, expressing, that from thence assistance and protec-
tion may be expected. To this figure may be justly adapted
the lines of Dr. Parnell :

confess the Almighty just,
And where you can't unriddle, learn to trust.

TASTING.

In order to procure that variety which is a principal
fource of pleasure in the arts, and of whfch they boast as a
distinguished peculium, almost confined to themselves, we
offer representations of the senses under the character of
Boys. Perhaps in conformity to this idea, there may be a
propriety in supposing that our bodily senses are not enjoyed
by us in perfection. Tasting is surely much debauched by
the contradictory variety presented to it; in m.anv kmds of
animals, this faculty seems much more exact: and the same
observations are true of the other senses.

Under the idea of a boy indulging himself in the enjoy-
ment of fruits of must exquisite flavour, we represent Tast-
ing.

20O PLATi:S.

iNG. The grape, the fig, the date, the water- melon, are a
specimen ut the copious stores provided by nature to satisfy
this sense. Not to one region or climate is thi? bounty con-
fined : every country produces for the support of human life>
and for the gratification of Tasting, that which appears to
its inhabitants most agreeable and sakitarv.

Happy Britain \ to wiiom if nature has denied the most
poignant fruits, she has likewise forbidden the most fatal,
but, whose commerce supplies even the productions of the
tropics ; whose skill raises even the pine-apple I

HEARING

Is expressed by a boy playing on a guitar, to whose me-
lodious tones he is listening: with earnest attention.

SMELLING.

As none among the productions of nature are so cheer-^
ing, reviving, and fragrant to the sense of smelling as
flowers, which seem created on purpose to regale this fa-
culty, we have represented a boy enraptured with the per-
fume lie inhales from the scented bouquet; which is evi-
dently the most natural attraction of this sense.

SEEING

Is represented by a boy looking at himself in a mirror;
and as the operations of this facuhv have been immensely
extended by the discovery and use of the telescope, he holds
that instrument in his hand. ■

FiCKLlNG

Is rr?presented bv a bov. whose easier orasp in seizin2;a bee

1 . . CD O 1 O

has subjected him to the insect's sting ; the smart arising
from which has obliged l)im to liberate his prisoner.

MOI'.NING.

Thi? part of day is represciitcd rising over t!ie e.irtli, willi
th<i t.irii(,st bccims of the Sun: ilic ligure is supposed Hying.

VCTV

('I

Q^M/'/Z/m

'?r^/^//y.

PLATES. 101

very high in the air, and therefore being viewed from lelow,
is seen entirely underneath : the light also conies on the
figure from lelow, the solar rays darting upwards. It is
proper to remark, that this would be an injudicious repre-
sentation, if the globe of the earth were introduced j be-
cause, as we have elsewhere shewn, rays from the celestial
luminaries never rke on the earth, but are either descending
or parallel ; the horizon intercepting them, when the Sun
declines below it: but, as here nothing is introduced
whereby to determine the distance of this figure above the
earth, the spectator may suppose it extremely high indeed,
and then the liberty is not oifenslve. The fragrance of
Morning is signified by the flowers which she strews as
she advances ; and the congelation of the vapours into dew,
by the vase from which it falls. Her head is also dressed
with flowers, significative of the pleasures of Morning.

NOON

Is represented under the idea of Apollo, as the God
of Dayj arrived at the highest point in his course (the me-
ridian), and rather inclining downwards, than urging his
coursers to further ascent. This Idea is very frequent
amonff the Poets, whose licence we have here followed.
evening

Is a single figure turning from the spectator, and seeming
to recede gradually frorn him. She is supposed to be draw-
ing a veil of mists and vapours, which arise from the earth,
over the adjacent country 5 thereby obscuring and conceal-
ing it.

Now fades the gUirmering landscape on the sight,
And all the air a solemn stillness holds :

The sky is serene; the Bat is a creature which flies prin-
DiCT. Edit. 7. DO cipally

io2 PLATES. ^

cipally at twilight, and follows Evening: the Evening Star
needs no lexplanation.

KIGHT

Is allegorized by a figure warmly clothed; on her head
a radiant crescent, whose form being yet very imperfect,
iflTords little light, and its rays are few and dim : the veil
of the figure is embellished with numerous stars; allusive
to the host of heaven. Night being the most proper season
for repose, she is represented with her finger laid on her
lips, indicating silence ; she seems also watching the sleep-
ing child, whose balmy slumbers she is unwilling to dis-
turb. The narcotic effects of the Poppy are well known;
this plant was constantly used by the ancients to express
the repose of peaceful slumber.

THE VIGNETTE TO THE TITLE OF THE FIRST VOLUME

Represents a figure of Genius, holding in one hand a
laurel wreath, as the reward of excellence, with the other
pointed to a variety of implements used in the arts of Design :
the port- folio in Drawing; the pallette and pencils in Paint-
ing; the pillar signifies Architecture ; the points, &c. En-
graving, and the books, the theory of these sciences.

THE SECOND VOLUME.

Genii, employed in exercising the sister arts of Painting
and Sculpture.

THE TlIIHD VOLUME.

The applause and commemoration attendant on the suc-
cessful efforts of the arts of design, indicated by the laurel
crown and the records of history.

THE FOURTH VOLUME.

Genius studying Natuhh.

These Frontispieces and Vignettes illustrate the Article
Ico^OLOoy,

DIRECTIONS

j///r

A CONCISE

HISTORY OF THE ARTS OF DESIGN.

1 HE origin of most arts, and perhaps of most profes-
sions,is attended with so much uncertainty and indecision,
with so much obscurity and silence, that correct infor-
mation on the subject of any particular art is at this time
hardly to be expected. When the happy idea first oc-
curred, when the happy effect was first produced, were
circumstances favourable to the discovery? Was its
worth acknowledged, and felt ? Did the person who
actually conceived it, conceive also its future progress
and importance ? Did those who might observe it, im-
part their observations, and were such observations ac-
curate and liberal, or false and iiwidious ? Were they
treasured up among facts, transmitted to inform pos-
terity, or scattered amid the floating rumours of the
current moment? Such are the questions of inqui-
sitive minds: questions easily asked, but not easily an-
swered.

There is reason to conceive the elegant arts have ex-
perienced various fates : proportionate to the urgency
of present necessity was the importance of that inven-
tion which supplied its demands. The most dextrous
contrivance of a wattled structure, the most ingenious

Vol. IV. B part 2 mode

2 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

mode of strongly fencing the opening of a cave, or of
bendins: the stubborn branches into a circumference
connected with the earth, were talents of such value
among nations who thus constructed their dwellings,
that doubtless their possessors were celebrated, admired,
and imitated. The perpetual recurrence of these wants
made every improvement of consequence ; and till the
mode of construction had become equal to the desired
degree of convenience, every improvement was likely
to be popular. Necessity, then, was the parent of ex-
ertion : of exertion of body — as labour and skill were
requisite to accomplish the incumbent task with solidi-
ty and dispatch : exertion of mind — as without contriv-
ance, plan, and adaption, labour would never render
the intended residence convenient and habitable.

These hints imply, that the arts now esteemed elegant,
were not suggested by the prospect of attaining some
future good, but w'ere exercised by the desire of obvi-
ating some present evil; they vrere not at first directed
to the acquisition of pleasure, but to the prevention of
pain; they were not excited by expected enjoyment,
but were impelled by actual uneasiness. Fear, not
hope, dread, not delight, first roused the human mind
to what eventually has afforded enjoyment and satisfac-
tion, splendour and magnificence ; to what has aug-
mented the talents of that mind, extended its concep-
tions, and ennobled its powers.

In vain, therefore, is research after the origin of art :
it is contemporary with the wants of life ; previous to
those wants, art was not; with their commencement it
commenced ; whatever were the first necessities of man-
kind, they directed the first application of art : but as
art arises from mental powers, its application did not
cease with the provision it afforded against those ob-
jects ; a principle was called into action which was not

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 3

o be satisfied with merely equipoising convenience and
inconvenience, but which studied further improvement,
sought novelty and variety, indulged genius and fancy;
and which, after a v.hile, prided itself in discrimina-
tion and choice, in judgment and taste, in propriety
and elegance.

Nevertheless, though we cannot now relate the abso-
lute origin of art, observation may sufficiently supply the
vacancy, and trace its probable course. For, being
similar in principle, Vv^hy not also similar in progress, to
what passes under our inspection ? Being adapted to
certain states of life, why not also correspondent to
what among mankind in such states it appears at this
time ? The rude efforts of the untaught mind may in-
dicate what might be the first essays of primitive genius.
The feeble conceptions of childhood when it compounds
water and clay, and mingles the moistened earth into
a wall, is the first dawn of Architecture ; the fancy that
sees figures in the fire, or the likeness of some acquaint-
ance in the accidental form of a hooked stick, is the
nidus of Sculpture ; and Sculpture it becomes, if the
knife be employed to pare into more exact likeness the
projection that represents the nose, or to liberate the
appended chin from some supposed deformity, or un-
couth mis-resemblance. AVhen a boy chalks on a wall
the figure of a beast, or bird, or (if his turn be historic)
the figure of his companion in some noticeable attitude,
or event, is not this the origin of Design ? nay, of Com-
position, and of Caricatura ? — though the lines be dis-
proportionate, though a great round crowded by two
immense eyes, which squeeze the .nose and mouth to
the very bottom of the circle, surrounded by half a
dozen strait strokes on each side to represent hair, while
the body is denoted by double lines, and the arms and
legs by single lines — though such be the whole form —

B 2 yet

4 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

yet here is the origin of Picture ; here is a mental ex-
ertion which, proper!) directed, shall flourisli into art.
This is an imitation by memory j but bring into view
the object represented, let the eye see at one glance the
original and the copy, then the likeness increases, a por-
tion of incorrectness is dismissed, what was too long is
shortened, or what was too short is lengthened ; this is
study; and study continued is the parent of excellence.
Moreover, various parts of the world, even in the
present day, furnish various states of life : hordes of men
in all imaginable degrees of distance from what was
their first situation and manners ; whether we suppose
civilized life to have been that first situation, and them-
selves to have declined from it, down to almost bruta-
lity ; or whether we conclude the rude attachment of
savage society to have been that first situation, and ci-
vilized life to have arisen after numberless improve-
ments, and progressive cultivation.

The more liberal Nature has been to man, the less
active is his disposition ; the more she has done for him
the less he will do for himself; content is sloth, activity
is the effect of stimulus; when a cave affords advvelling,
what need of an arched roof ? when a few stakes be-
come an habitation, wherefore a colonade ? But in a le-
vel country, which is destitute of caves, the dwelling
must be an erection ; in a rigorous climate, the habi-
tation must be substantial ; where ferocious animals are
unknown, to surround the inclosure by a hedge of
thorns may be superfluous ; but v^here they abound,
every defence is indispensable.

Let us endeavour^then to trace the progress of Archi-
tecture, (the first of the arts) as instanced at present
among the tribes of mankind. What was originally the
dwelling of man ? Much might be offered in support
of the idea that the palace of man was the verdant

grove,

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 5

grove, and his residence was beneath the spreading
shade of some tall tree ; equally distant from the con-
finement of the gloomy cavern amid mountain-preci-
pices, and from perpetual exposure to the vehement
heats of the sandy desart, his bowser was —

Chosen by the Sovereign Planter when he framed

All things to man's delightful use, the roof

Of thickest covert was inwoven shade :

Laurel and mvrtle, and what higher grew

Of lirra and fragrant leaf; on either side

Acantiius, and each odorous bushy shrub

Fenced up the verdant wall ; each beauteous flow'r,

Iris all hues, roses and jessamine,

Hear'd high their fiourish'd heads between, and wrought

^Mosaic : underfoot the violet,

Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay

Broider'd the ground, more coloui'Vl than with stone

Of costhest emblem : —

The luxuriance of this description, is, indeed, not now
to be instanced ; (alas ! circumstances are but too much
changed for the worse) we cannot now allude to Eden;
but must describe, as dwelling under trees, a few mi-
serable tribes of African filumgalla, who when spring
shoots into vegetation the forests around them, bend
the branches, insert them into the earth, and reside un-
der the leafy shelter, compelled, when the wintry tor-
rent swells, to quit these abodes for the caves of Ethi-
opian mountains ; or a few lr\(X\zn faquirs, and enthu-
siasts, who forsaking the society of men, retire to the
woods, and pass their cheerless hours exposed to the
attacks of blood-thirsty tigers. Neither can we justly
represent any considerable proportion of mankind as
dwellers in caves (TroglodyUc) for, though a few de-
pend thus entirely on Nature for habitations, yet, in ge-
neral

6 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

neral, some kind of industry has been employed to ren-
der them less inconvenient.

The permanence of a cave has none of that variety
which is sought by man, and supplies but few of those
necessities which daily beset himj caves are rarely situat-
ed among forests, where his hunger procures food, or
by the river side, where the stream slakes his thirst ; if
he has domesticated any animals, caves are unfit for
them, and ill adapted to accommodate at once both the
master and his property. Banished trom his arbour and
from his cave, his next step in architecture is to construct
a tent, or a hut ; these, easily set up, easily taken down,
easily carried from place to place, have long been fa-
vourite among great part of mankind ; used to these,
they despise other accommodations, and stigmatise as
contemptible the inhabitants of cities. Nay, so far has
this prejudice carried them, that forgetting the bonds of
humanity, many battles have been tought, and much
blood has been shed on its account : nor are its effects
destroyed even now, the Arabs of the desarts as well
those of Asia as of Africa, though honest among them-
selves, plunder those stranger-travellers they can over-
power; and though at peace with their fellow dwellers
in tents, hate other tribes attached to one spot, and en-
circled by one common wall.

We reckon among those who prefer tents, the Arabs,
the Tartars, many Cossacs, and other Asiatic tribes.
Among those who prefer huts, the Hottentots, the
Negroes, and sundry other African nations : the Ame-
rican Indians, and many inhabitants of tropical cli-
mates. Huts below the surface of the ground are used
in many parts of the polar regions, as the best security
against intense cold.

Among the Rabbins some have said, that what we
render 'coats of skins,' Genesis ch. xi. ver. 2] . should be

rather

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 7

rather considered as * tents, or tent-coverings of skins ;'
this may be uncertain : but certain it is, that the simpli-
city of those erections where a few poles covered by
skins, or by cloth, composed the whole structure, render-
ed them highly useful, as tliey were extremely well
suited to the wants and abilities of their inhabitants ;
whether meant as permanent, or as tents removeable at
pleasure. We consider immoveable huts as cottages ;
and these being fixed, were required to possess advan-
tages over those not fixed : for, as they admitted of
enlarged dimensions, and they were not to be carried
about, no consideration of incumbrance attached to
them ; if composed of numerous pieces, or if bedecked
by superfluous ornament, it increased not the labour of
package, nor the load of the camel or the ox. These
edifices required in their construction various implements
not used in tent-making ; and in supplying these, inven-
tion made considerable advances tovv^ard perfecting
others. The remark seems just, that dwellers in tents
have been little inventive, little famed for science ; cities
have ever been the nurses of arts, of study, and of emu-
lation. For it deserves notice, that no art is so entirely
singular as to reach perfection while alone ; usually, im-
provements in more than one are contemporary, and
usually they yield mutual light and mutual assistance.

The progress I have described appears so evidently
to be natural, that it may rationally be applied to all
ages ot the world ; even before the flood the same was
probably its course. Cain first built a city; no doubt
intended for protection, though possibly no better than
a composition of mud w^alls and rushes, rather marking
than concealing the trembling vagabond. Cain how-
ever built a city -, and in the line of Cain we read of the
earliest sciences, and their progress: first husbandry and
pastoral property, then m.usic, then workmanship in

metal

8 A COKCISE IIlSrORY OF ART.

metals. Did the leisure of husbandry require intervals of
joy? — music afforded expressions of that joy ; but vocal
music was imperiect without instrumental, and to fur-
nish this required the skill of the artificer in brass and
iron. " Jabal," says Moses, "was the father of sucli
as dwell in tents and have — cattle'' — says our translation:
but the Syriac reads it — ^'possessions.'' — Probably, all
property hitherto was public; but as personal property is
what most nearly affects us, perhaps from the institution
of private property may be dated the first considerable
advancement of art; and it should appear evident, that
such advancement was greatly promoted by distinct
professions being undertaken by distinct families.

I confess, in my opinion, the antediluvians had little
occasion for very extensive study of the science of Ar-
chitecture : the seasons, I conceive, were by no means so
rigorous and so dissimilar as now; the earth being more
temperate,was also more fertile : man had no need to pro-
vide against^jr^rt-w^f/y inclement skies, or aimual torrents,
against rigid frosts, or ardent suns. The productions of the
earth being more abundant, and more constant, consider-
able repositories of stores [i.e. granaries) were probably
unknown; nor did Avarice itself perhaps tliink of accu-
mulating unwieldy hoards, for distant consumption.Their
constructions, we may suppose, if they were extensive,
were not solid, and if capacious were not durable. Does
not this seem inferable from the very particular directions
given to Noah respecting the construction of the ark :
He is not only told of what wood to make it, but
its particular dimensions, form, and divisions, " rooms,
or cabins, shalt thou make in the ark, a window, a
door, and lower, second, and third stories." Does not
this precision look as if the invention, or application at
least, was novel? Every thing announces the first ship ;
but perhaps also by much the most considerable struc-
ture

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 9

ture yet undertaken ; to complete which required up-
wards of a century.

The deluge, which changed considerably the face of
the earth, most probably changed its temperature ; and
perhaps, also, the deluge was the first continued rain
which fell, and not less astonishing to the sufferers than
if it had been fire instead of water. How then was the
earth refreshed? By copious dews. Those parts at
present watered by dews, are not the least fertile ; and
certainly they might afford moisture sufficient to the
earth in full vigour, and the heat of the sun moderate,
uniform, and equal. To this hypothesis agrees the ex-
treme length of human life, not then affected by atmos-
pherical vicissitudes; and, in my opinion, the phenome-
non of the rain-bow: for if no rain, no dense compact-
ed clouds; if no clouds, no rain-bow, the rain-bow be-
ing the offspring of clouds: this pacific token originat-
ing after the waters of the flood.

The foundation of Babel is thought to date about one
hundred years after the deluge : it could not be till men
were multiplied, and were pretty secure of subsistance,
nor till after many erections, and of various sorts. So
great an undertaking, as to build a city and a tower
that might be, as it were, a metropolis, central to all
mankind, and be kept in memory even by those scat-
tered abroad on the face of the whole earth, could not be
thought of, till after many lesser edifices had furnished
experience in the art of building. Whether the tower
of Babel was designed " to reach to heaven," or was
to be consecrated " to idolatrous worship of the hea-
venly bodies," has been doubted : that Idolatry soon
commenced its detestable career, seems probable from
the name of the city " Ur," (or burning) of the Chal-
dees, fire being long the chief idol among the Parsee,
and whose worship yet subsists in certain parts of Asia.

Vol. IV. Cpart 2 Obser\-e3

10 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Observe, the materials of the tower of Babel were, not
stone, but thoroughly burnt brick, and bitumen for ce-
ment; which implies a knowledge that unburnt brick
was perishable ; and bricks proportionately large as the
stones employed in some buildings, without cement,
would have been unwieldy, even if they were not
crushed by the weight they were intended to support.
[Probably stones dug from tlie quarry were not yet
used in building.] Was that the original tower of
Babel which Herodotus saw? and in its orginal con-
dition r of which he has left us an account : or had it
been so repaired, and enlarged, (by Nebuchadnessar
perhaps) that it was now rather a Babylonish and na-
tional structure, than, that designed by the united efforts
of the whole earth when of one language, ^nd of one
speech.

Such an undertaking as that of the tower of Babel
must have been long held in remembrance by the fa-
niilies of the dispersion ; and ideas correspondent to
the state of architecture at the time, must undoubtedly
have been carried with them to all parts, lliat many
branches had previously separated from the primitive
stock, is extremely supposable ; but by this general dis-
persion, the portion of knowledge possessed by each fa-r
mily remained witli itselt, and instead of liaving recourse
for assistance, when in difficulties, to an original source,
as former colonies might, it was oblige^ to supply its
own wants, jnd those ot others its descendants, accord-
ing to its own restricted abilities.

Those families which in this general quarrel and mis-
understanding were most numerous, had the greatest
advantages toward soon becoming settled in the parts
they occupied : those families which were weakest, were
probably driven by the stronger, to the less fertile pas-
tures, and the less iavourable soils. In the strongest

commynities

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 11

communities the principles of art were considerable
suftVrers ; in the weaker they became almost extinct :
but even in the weaker would remain some trace of
what they had seen, some recollection of the weii-built
city, of the spacious street, of the cloud-topp'd temple ;
and, gradually, as opportunity offered, would efforts be
directed toward the acquisition of such enjoyments".
Few would occupy the cave which had first given them
shelter, when by means of tents, or of huts, they might
maintain intercourse with their companions, their
friends, or their posterity : they would prefer social
life to solitary ; they might proceed to construct adja-
cent habitations, or to colonize some spot, in imitation
of their once admired Babel.

To render this more sensible, let us trace in our ima-
gination, a small society, parting, whether by choice or
compulsion, from the tribe to which they belonged, and
wandering in quest of a distant settlement. Imagine
the vigorous and heroic husband, attended by the no
less heroic and constant partner of his bosom : if to these
you add the prattling offspring, you increase the anxi-
eties of the expedition Arrived in an unknown part,
the setting sun commands retirement j to remain ex-
posed is dangerous : and how shall the weaker female,
and the tender youth, scale the stately tree, and lodge
among the branches? Where then shall they find se-
curity r — In the nearest excavation of the ground, or
perhaps in the fissure of a rock. Let them first see
that no savage quadruped harbours there, that no hiss-
ing serpent has made it his retreat j let them explore
their dwelling, and then fence it. The forest yields
its pliant twigs, and the trees their wattling branches,
and thus they compose a habitation : this shelters them
from the summer's sun, from the winter's deluge and
frost ; and this becomes their abode.

C 2 Increasing

12 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Increasing posterity increases strength, and mutual
assistance procures additional convenienciesj till, by de-
grees, the father of the family becomes founder of a
town, and erects the standards of his dwelling : not now
from the first branches which offer, but he selects the
straightest trees, and explores the recesses of the woods :
not now in the first spot that offers ; but he consults the
union of accommodation with security, and the bene-
fits of a copious stream with those of a fertile soil. The
sturdy youth obey the counsels of age, their unremit-
ting industry at length attains its purposes, and they
congratulate themselves on having vanquished their dif-
ficulties and deposited the uprights ; these support the
beams of the roof; the interstices they fill with the
smaller boughs, and plaster with tenacious clay. Thus
mankind still are beholden to the tree for a dwelling,
and of a tree form their habitation. AVho would sup-
pose this the origin of extensive cities, and of royal pa-
laces ? Yet such was the commencement of Nineveh,
of Babylon, of Rome ; and to some such beginning is
our opulent metropolis indebted for its existence.

The progress of Art is like that of the scarce noticed
fountain, which silently glides along the banks a humble
water-course ; by degrees it becomes a brook, and in-
creases to a rivulet ; capable now of utility, it rises into
consequence, spreads into a rapid river, diffuses conve-
nience and wealth around its banks, and receives a
thousand blessings as it rolls to the ocean.

But, though we have hitherto attended chiefly to the
natural and the civil wants of man, we ought, in justice
to their importance, to advert to his moral and his sa-
cred wants also : let us recollect that the idea of solemn
Avorship was extremely strong in those early times, that
their periodical assemblies, as at the new moons, &c.
Were very solicitously attended, that many of their rites

were

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 13

were performed in public and general assemblies of the
community, that they were also accompanied with pub-
lic and general expressions of joy, and that the pomp
and ritual of worship is congenial to the human heart.

In fact, we have seen the proposed tower of Babel col-
lect a city around it ; and however other cities may owe
their origin to casualty, the magnificence of its sacred
structure was the foundation of Babylon. Neither is
this instance singular : there seems much justice in the
ideas of Libanius in his oration " for the Temples'*
before the Emperor Theodosius, A.D. 390. " Men"
says he " having at first secured themselves in dens and in
cottages, and having there experienced the protection
of the gods, soon perceived how beneficial to mankind
their favour must be ; they therefore, as may be sup-
posed, erected to them temples and statues, such as they
could in those early times : and when they began to
build cities, upon the increase of arts and sciences, there
were many temples on the sides of mountains, and in
plains ; and in every city next after its walls, were erect-
ed temples, and sacred edifices, as the beginning of the
rest of the body." Again, " For, O Emperor, the
temples are the soul of the country, they have been the
first original of the builings in the country, and they
have subsisted for many ages to this time."

The expression " first original of the buildings," may
express not only their being remains of early architec-
ture -J but rather, that often a temple was the cause of
a town, and this is true also of Dodona, and Delos, and
of many other cities in ancient times : and in modern
times, among others, of the now town of Loretto;
which is merely an adjunct to the Santa Casa^ or holy
house : in fact, that where there is a great resort of vi-
sitors, conveniencies for their use should gradually be
rrected, and that the profit attending them should at-
tract

14 A CONCISE HISTORY OP ART.

tract many settlers, is apparently a rational origin of
towns.

Previous to the general dispersion of mankind, their
soil and situation, thvir manners and wants being alike,
doubtless one general mode or style obtained among
all: but when dispersed, unlimited diversity may be
expected, — arising from their infinitely varied situa-
tions,— their different talents and ingenuity, — their dif-
ferent lemarks and observations on things around them.
Let us pause here : — though we liave seen social and civil
life, to be the primary state of man, yet we are arrived
at a period wherein almost the whole race are divested
of the advantages arising from tliat state. Those only
who remained settled in the land of Shinar, could now
be said to be in civil society. The more numerous bo-
dies of exiles conducted by popular leaders, were less
removed from that state, or degree, of civilization.
Smaller bodies who followed less favourite chiefs,
and especially, families whose numbers were weak,
though perhaps obliged to wander farther than their
compatriots in quest of settlements, these, being gra-
dually divided and subdivided, were almost, or al-
together, insulated from the rest of mankind ; they
would soc^ncst ar.d most entirely forget those arts which
once they beheld, if they did not cultivate, and now, se-
dulously endeavouring to accommodate themselves to
th.eir new situations, they would deviate furthest from
the manners and refinements of their former state.
Their first concern would naturally be subsistence; this
the woods would furnish by the chase, or the streams
by fishing ; this would often be precarious, and always
toilsome, nor could it be intermitted, but whether
successful or unsuccessful, would require perpetual ap-
plication. Sustenance might occasionally be derived
from roots, from herbage, from trees, but only occa-
sionally.

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 15

sionally. Suffering under uncertainties, yet hardened
against distress ; improvident of the future, if in pre-
sent supply; alternately active and idle, laborious and
slothful, ingenious and stupid ; alternately roused to
phrenzy or calmed to lethargy, straining every nerve,
or seeming utterly nerveless, such is solitary man :
wild as his native woods! savage as the precipices
around his den ! attached to no spot, he adorns or cul-
tivates none, receives from it but casual benefits, and
bestows on it but casual glances : the noblest objects
presented to his view by the very sublimities of na-
ture, he passes unnoticed. Solely occupied by one sin-
gle idea, he views the wide-expanded champaign — as
it may afford him prey j the silver-lake — as it yields him
prey; the majesty of the grove — as there his prey may
hide ; rocks rising to heaven he scales in search of prey,
or dives into glens, into chasms, into caverns, as direct-
ed by his hopes, and expectations, or sustenance. In
this state can art flourish ? shall he build to-day, who
to-morrow may inhabit elsewhere ? shall weariness and
fatigue, study ? or thoughtless inactivity, compose ? Or
if some happy genius turn his reflections toward ame-
lioration of his present condition, will he not rather
think of providing necessaries than of devising arts ?
how to domesticate the now wild cattle, or to preserve
their offspring when chance has found, and pity
spared them, that they may always be near at hand for
service, how to render them more completely obedi-
ent, and more uniformly tractable, or how to improve
the product of the trees by cultivation, or to store it up
for future use. Then arises some celestial-gifted Ceres,
strews the precious grain, watches the rising stalks, ga-
thers the ripened ears, and defies that scarcity which
once made winter terrible ; the joys of harvest animate
^11 minds, and invigorate all hands ; age visits the field,

directs^

16 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

directs, and blesses; youth endeavours; infancy strives;
the assembled community close their labours by offer-
ing united praise to heaven, and the now settled inha-
bitants gratefully applaud the teeming earth. After
the harvest follows the vintage : the press succeeds the
plough ; to Ceres and Triptolemus associate Minerva
and Bacchus. For, if an idea be once started, it is the
nature of man to pursue and improve it : if one seed
has yielded food, thus encouraged, he will cultivate
others; if one fruit be refreshing, he will endeavour to
prolong its services, and will seek in others of similar
properties, qualities capable, not only of present, but
of future utility.

But not every where is this the course of things;
corn grows not every where ; animals, wild or do-
mesticated, are the chief supports of many parts of
the globe. The northern parts sow little : in Lap-
land the rein-deer is their riches, yielding at once
food and raiment. Among all the tribes of North-
American Indians, few cultivate the land ; their hunt-
ing grounds are their dependance : nor is South Ame-
rica better cultivated by the natives, unless as directed
by Europeans: the southern people of Africa, the Hot-
tentots, neither plow nor sow ; the Caftrees almost as
little ; these, by their situation, and by their ignorance,
(in conformity to our general principle) seem to be the
most remote wanderers from Babel, the most remote
in their modes of life from the improvement of succes-
sive invention, the most remote from the connected ad-
vantages of political union. For it is probable upon
the whole, that Noah, and his descendants, if they did
not continue at Babel, or in its neighbourhood, after a
while retired cast of Babylon, perhaps to Bactria or In-
dia, where from the earliest ages has been the scat of

empire.

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 17

rmpire and subordination, and inconsequence, the seat
of invention, of magnificence, and of art.

The human mind has resources capable of supporting
it against most natural evils ; and often is capable of
converting them into benefits : ^^4lere it cannot over-
come them by effective resistance, it can divert their
course or soften their consequences, can accustom it-
self to circumstances till they become insensible, and by
degrees reduce them to enjoyments. During the long
and severe Avinters of the North, where for many
months no solar ray reaches, where triumphs the in-
tensity of frost, (the very idea thrills us with horror !)
the natives, well clad in furs, milk their rein-deer or
tend their traps, by moonlight ; their dwellings sunk
deep in the earth admit no cold, their lamps yield light
and fire, their stores of dried fish and of pine bark
yield food, and \^hat conversation their single family
affords, wears out winter: shall we seek elegance in such
structures ? below the surface of the earth — no win-
dow is possible — no arch required — no external decora-
tion ; — and internal decoration is little to be expected,
where no neighbour visits, and no parties are made.

Little better are the structures of the Americans, or
the Hottentots j they are indeed moveable huts, but by
that very circumstance of small dimensions, and pro-
portioned to the powers of those who are to move
them ; compact even to filthiness, and ever full of
smoke, — to mention style and architecture is degrad-
ing the terms, — But then is taste totally banished from
the mind thus situated ? and are the rudiments of art
entirely obliterated ? No : the Indian of America paints
for beauty, chooses the best part of the best fur for
ornament, and strings his wampum in numberless pat-
terns with consummate elegance; the Hottentot adorns
his person with a calf-skin, adorns his calf-skin with

Vol, IV. D part 2. beads.

18 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

beads, and with brass, and studies seriously the effect
he means to produce. Yet the seeds of elegance uni-
formly shoot with most vigour in the female mind :
the Indians are painted by their women j and the wo-
men among the Hottentots, decorate their krosses
with most invention, combination, and taste : they best
know what colours most kindly assort together ; that
neither black beads nor blue suit the delicacy of their
divine complexions, while pearly white or tender rose
colour, add graceful contrast to the brilliant vivacity
of their native charms.

Emerged from the cavern and from the deep-sunk
dwelling, to the liberty of the moveable hut, we find
art exerting itself in personal decorations ; adorning
however, not the dwelling but the inhabitant, connect-
ed with somewhat of tenderness and affection, combin-
ed with a desire to appear to advantage in the eyes of
others ; this desire most natural to the female sex, is
in that sex supported by superior dexterity and skill,
as well as indicated by superior elegance. Personal
decoration for purposes of terror, is indeed attached to
this state of lite ; and the Indian when hideously paint-
ed to dismay his enemies, shews art ; and shews it too
to a kind of advantage: and, I doubt not, were we
spectators of its effects, it would often force our appro-
bation of its principles, however we might regret their
application : the well calculated and well disposed "gor-
<rons and hydras and chimeras dire" would shock us
into applause, and terrif}' us mto praise. But war not
solely enttames the breast; love lights his fires, and
sheds his influence too : now the heart softens, now
t'ne tiLSte improves ; the principles of elegance unite,
and every cllbrt is directed to the art of pleasing.
Tl)e lover studies to appear agreeable in her eyes
whom he admires, and neglects no means of display-
ing

A COKCISIl HISTORY OF ART. 39

ing at once his taste and his ardour. His imagination^
also, alive to its own powers, compares his beloved
to the beauteous flovv-er, and he studies the most
beauteous flower for comparison; or if he liken her
to some favorite animal, that animal is the most
charming of its kind ; his imagination depicts the most
grateful verdure as adorning the pathway to her dwel-
ling ; while her dwelling becomes a temple, and herself
the divinity. Neither can he conceal his sensations ;
his love inspires an interest, a vehemence, which kindles
into poetry, and bursts into song. Poetry and song
are effusions of the mind, which ruminating on its own
ideas, cherishes or chases, selects or separates, concep-
tions more or less relative to the subject : this implies
comparison of one with others ; and such comparison
is a very principal ingredient in the arts of design, if
not absolutely their foundation.

We have said, the Arts were greatly related to each
other, and commonly received improvements nearly
about the same time, but hitherto we have mentioned Ar-
chitecture only ; the reason is, because hitherto we have
not seen Architecture advanced to that degree of excel-
lence as to support ornament ; but, directly as this
branch of art had made a progress toward regularity,
strength, and convenience, the next idea was embel-
lishment i and this we find exemplified in the construc-
tions of most of those islanders which have lately come
to our knowledge. After Architecture, Sculpture seems
to be next in order, which, employed on huge blocks
of wood, creates the frightful form of some of their
masks ; or patiently waiting its task's completion, de-
corates with winding ornament the handle of a club,
or the centre of abow. Assisted by Sculpture, the head-
piece of a war-canoe may characteristically inspire ter-
ror, seem ready to devour its opponents, or grin defi-
le 2 ance

20 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

ance on their despised threatenings. Character and ex-
pression no doubt are beauties in art, and in these, ex-
cessive efforts are easily seized, and in all their defor
mity: hence the authors of such works have given vi-
gour, spirit, and force to their productions, and have
completed in them the very sublime of ugliness. Real
beauty is dithcult to represent, but deformity has no dif-
ficulty ; gliding grace is transitory, and fugitive, not
easily seen, not easily cauglit, whereas grimace is noto-
rious, obvious, and facile ot imitation. Such barbarous
efforts of Art are lound among ail savage nations; and
their natural effect is rather iright than respect, rather
terror than affection.

How far the above sentiment applies in respect to
the images of their deities, we cannot at present as-
certain ; that these are in general terrific is certain ;
but to what degree, or with what design, their authors
intended they should be so, we must reter to better in-
formation. Were their sculptors incompetent to the
mild resemblance of some placid deity ? Or, did their
mythology furnish no placid deity to represent .? Or,
did no occasion call for such representation } Or,
those DOwers which related to death and destruction —
were these only thouglit fit to be personified? Or did
terror rather than love support such worshij)? These
are questions whose answers at present are beyond our
reach To return to ancient Art —

Chronology is a very difiicult study; the most sa-
gacious writers differ greatly from each other, and in
Tcncral, freely confess that all their endeavours can ac-
complish, is, rather aj-tproximation than accuracy, ra-
ther probability than certainty. It will not bo wonder-
ed at, therefore, that I propose my own sentiments
with the utmost deference, and lay little stress on
absolute precision of dates, as not very essential to a

general

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 21

general idea of the progress of art. Yet I may remark,
that, although the very early dates of certain persons
and facts in some chronologies may perhaps need abate-
ment, nevertheless, 1 cannot persuade myself the dis-
covery or practice of several arts should be dated so low
■as others have placed them. It seems to me incredi-
ble, that the discovery of carpenter's tools is to be at-
tributed to DedaluSy li Dcdalus be so late as supposed
by Sir Isaac New ion; he might improve, or vary
them, but not invent them at that period. Nor can I
think that Tosortlius, or JEscidapius, a physician, was
the first who invented building with square stones, not
long before Sir Isaac's date of the Argonautic expe-
dition. The same I suppose of his sentiments on Osi-
ri.i and Isi's: \^ Scsostris was called Osiris^ he did but
apply the ancient worship to his own person ; for, cer-
tainly, the mysteries relating to those personages were
of much older date. On the other hand, to place Se-
soslris, as some have done, a thousand years earlier,
is giving a proportionately earlier date to his works ;
and what perhaps from their magnitude is scarce al-
lowable; notwithstanding what may be said of the
tovv^er or Babel : of which, it should be remembered,
we have no description that may enable us to distin-
guish its primary form from the subsequent additions
of Nebuchadnessar.

The earliest ages have naturally transmitted to us
the fewest accounts of their manners and studies, be-
ing absorbed in personal exertions to supply more im-
mediate necessities ; and of those accounts which they,
perhaps, designed to record for the information of pos-
terity, war, time, and accident, have spared very few.
The least disputable record is doubtless the sacred his-
tory of the Jews; which, though it contain only inci-
dental hints on our subject; yet is of importance, be-
cause

22 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

cause of a date prior to any other. Moreover it is, in
a great degree, not the history of the Jews only, but of
mankind, and it seems not improper to consider it in
diat light, till other, subsequent, though early autho-
rities afford their aid.

Moses, as a writer, may be dated by the Exodus of
Israel, ante A.D. 1491. We may, so far as concerns
our subject, without offence, consider his works as en-
abling us to guess at the state of arts in Egypt, and per-
haps in Arabia, about his time. That his productions
were greatly superior in some respects to those of
Egypt, we may readily admit, but that in others they
might be rather varied than superior, is no reflection
on his abilities. It he had not the stone and marble of
Egypt, he could not equal the Egyptian edifices in
grandeur, or solidity, supposing him so inclined. All
his efforts being directed to the establishment of ritual
worship, and ceremonial services; herein, doubtless, he
succeeded : — but all other hints, or relations, or histo*
ries, that can any way afford light on the subject of
art, are little short of foreign from his main design.
Neither is it beyond a doubt, that we now receive his
expressions, or understand his language, on these sub-
jects, in the very sense wherein he meant them : when
teraphwi were common, any reader understood the
word ; now its precise import is not clear : neither was
the hieroglyphic compound figure of the cherubim any
difficulty at that time, though now not a little embar-
rassing. This premised, I proceed to select those in-
stances of Art which occur in his narration.

THE

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 23

THE MOSAIC HISTORY OF ART.

We have seen reason to conclude that Babel was
the seat of Art, as known when mankind united their
grand efforts to perpetuate their fame : certainly they
thought their degree of art considerable, and doubt-
less supposed, by exerting all their powers combined,
to ensure the applause of posterity. May we not pro-
perly glance at what were the Arts of Babel ? We are
certain, that beside Architecture, Astronomy was one
of those arts ; this science cannot make any great pro-
gress without the assistance of some sort of instruments
for observation, of some kind of Geometry for delinea-
tion, and of some kind of calculation, for determining
by past observation the future revolutions of the hea-
venly bodies ; to be obtained only by the use of Arith-
metic. We may conceive of Nineveh as being the
daughter of Babylon in all senses, and practising the
same arts as the parent city.

Geometry and Delineation bear strong reference to
the Arts of Design, especially when combined with a
knowledge of Architecture. It should seem also, that
embroidery, or ornament analogous to it, was early cul-
tivated in Babylon, as such a dress was found among
the spoils of Jericho, and fatally allured Achan. Joshua
ch. vii. ver. 21 . Here we might ask, was this woven,
or wrought with the needle ? either way some kind of
pattern was delineated ; but if this garment was not or-
namented, then the manufacture of Babylon was in
esteem; for some kind of beauty it certainly had to
render it desirable. Long before this time, in the his-
tory of Joseph, we read of a " coat of many colours,'*
but whether ornamented by any pattern is not deter-
mined.

24 .A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

mined. The sum that Abimelech gave Sarah (Gen.
XX. ver. 16.) for a veil, appears to have been a great
price, and was doubtless meant as a handsome present :
** a thousand pieces of silver" would hardly be paid lor
a veil, "a covering for the eyes," unless highly orna-
mented, and probably finely embroidered. But whe-
ther a Babylonish production, or not, does not appear;
however, it proves the existence of such expensive
taste, and that too in the land of Canaan ; a country
less populous than Babylonia or Egypt, but lying in
the passage from one to the other.

We find no direct allusion to what may be supposed
allied to the arts, after the mention of Ur of the Chal-
dees, for a long period; nor is it positive thatTERAii,
the father of Abraham, had been that gross idolator
which the Jews affirm ; and from which they say he
was coverted by the constancy of Abraham's zealous
lefusal to worship idols, and his miraculous deliver-
ance from the burning of the Chaldees : while Maran,
his idolatrous brother, died before (i. e. was burnt in the
presence of) his father. Nevertheless, it seems probable
that Abraham was directed to sojourn in })arts less
polluted by the crime of idolatry, and that hitherto Ba-
bylon and Chaldea were the chief districts which had
adopted it ; possibly after the example, or by the com-
mand, of NiMROD, who is thought to have been the
original Baal, and to have had, after his decease, idola-
trous honours paid him, but whether by means of any
representation, or figure, is uncertain. We find no hint
of idolatry in Abraham's transactions in Canaan, in
Egypt, with Abimelech or with Pharoah; from
whence it seems likely that the idea of Egypt being the
original' seat of idolatry, and having transmitted it to
Babylon, is unfounded ; nor is idolatry mentioned as a
sin ot the cities of the plain ; nor in the history of Isaac ;

nor

MOSAIC HISTORY OF ART. 25

Bortlll Rachel, quitting Chaldea with her husband Ja-
cob, is noticed as having stolen her father's teraphinii
an interval of about 900 years. Of the nature, design,
or form, of these teraphiin, we can but conjecture : that
they were sacred (/. e. idolatrous'^ images [in the plu-
ral] is certain; that they were not large, is also cer-
tain; since otherwise Rachel could not have con-
veyed them away without notice from Jacob, nor have
concealed them under her without detection by Lab an.
Of what matter were they, of metal, stone, or wood ?
— probably of the latter ; especially, if Rachel had
carried them about her person : and this agrees with
the general accounts of historians, and the reason of
things, that the earliest images were of wood. Ne-
vertheless, we find afterwards, that Jacob had occa-
sion to purge his household from strange gods (i. e.
their images) which, together with their consecrated
ear-rings, he buried under an oak near Shechem.
Gen. XXXV.

Carvings in wood seem to have the greatest claim to
being the first sculptures: at the earliest periods they
numbered among their votaries most of the nations
east of Babylon. Were they received from Babylon
after the time of Nimrod? or was the principle active
even during the time of Noah's dwelling in those
parts, so that when he journeyed east, as we suppose,
some of his company carried this pollution with them ?
Though we cannot depend implicitly on so much as is
related of the ancient histories of the east (India,
China, &;c.) yet perhaps we may, without much hazard
of mistake, credit them so far as to believe their
accounts of early ages, which represent their national
worship as directed alone to the Creator, and the in-
troduction of image worship as comparatively modern.

Vol. IV. E part 2 and

26 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

and as received from foreign countries, geographically-
nearer to the scite of Babylon.

The history of Jacob atfords another hint or two on
the subject of sculpture ; as we find in that history the
earliest mention of one of those customs which long
continued, even after many improvements had been
made on the original thought. After his vision at
Bethel, Jacob set up as a pillar the stone he had used
for a pillow, and consecrated it by pouring oil on the
top of it. Again, after his reconciliation to Laban,
when pursued by him, Jacob took a stone and set it
up for a pillar; moreover, a heap (perhaps rather a
circle around a central one) of stones was gathered,
and a festival, as customary, concluded the solemnity.
This is the most ancient account we have of conse-
crated stones, (Bethulia), and these were the origin of
consecrated statues. The history will bear the remark-,
that though this is the first mention, it may not be
the first invention of this token. Did Jacob at Bethel
first of any one erect a stone pillar? and wherefore add
oil for its consecration ? if some such rite had not pre-
viously come to hts knowledge ; not that he used this
rite as consecrating properly a statue, but rather an
altar; which also seems to have been the idea connected
with Jacob and Laban's eating on the heap of stones,
*"' the heap of witness," which each party readily named
in his respective language. But though Jacob erected
an altar, others might erect a representative [or personal)
memorial to the honour of the Deity they had wor-
shipped, and this idea of the custom we confirm by
sundry instances in later periods of time.

From being at first restricted to the representations of
deities, images were gradually erected to such persons
as by their actions or merits were thought worthy of simi-
lar honours: especially if they might be combined with

the

MOSAIC HISTORY OF ART. 27

the idea of divinity also; which profligacy is of very
ancient date, as hero-gods no doubt are of early intro-
duction.

In tracing the progress of Architecture, we see ex-
ertions constantly directed to increase magnitude;
and tlierc seems some reason for it, as such extensive
structures might be supposed to furnish opportunity of
more and greater conveniencics : but we should scarcely
have applied the same idea to Sculpture, had not ample
authority justihed us. Idols portable, and consequently
small, we regard as the earliest attempts of their kind ;
after them those designed to be fixed and permanent; —
these might be more weighty, and of larger pro-
portions : those of actually deceased personages, in the
state of mummies, were, no doubt, nothing more above
tlie natural size, than the thickness of the case which
contained them ; but, as in all ages the idea has been
familiar, of much greater men in former times than
at present, of giants, and extremely tall persons, one
might have imagined that when sculpture had extend-
ed its limits to an equality with such, it might have
been contented, and stopped short of monsters : never-
theless the contrary is evident; not only by the ac-
counts we have of the measures of Nebuchadnessar**
golden image ; but also by the actually existing statues
(and by other colossal heads and shoulders) now stand-
ing in various parts of Egypt, and by sundry colossal
remnants dispersed in and about Rome.

AVe have hinted at the origin of Architecture, and
that of Sculpture, but without any reference to Paint-
mg; we know very well that it was a custom of heathen
antiquity to paint statues, thereby intending to advance
them to a nearer resemblance of life ; a custom which
the Jews, as they were forbidden statues, could not
adopt. To me it seems rational to place this kind of

-^ 2 painting

28 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

paintinj?^ before that which endeavoured to represent on
a l^at superfices the images of figures, though it must
be owned, that kind also may fairly claim great anti-
quity, especially in what relates to forming the outline,
and nlling the inclosed space with colour, which is the
nature of the orio-inal Monochromata. But wee not these
monc'Chromata the successors of hieroglyphic writing?
many hieroglyphics thus filled up remain to this day.

AVere hieroglyphics antecedent or posterior to let-
ters? I mean that kind of letters where each charac-
ter represented a word or a sound. If we advert to
what now occurs, we find in regions where letters are
unknown that delineations are used: is then delinea-
tion first in order in the human mind, before letters?
it should seem so: that the imitation of objects open
to inspection, is more natural than the adoption of
marks, in their nature entirely arbitrary, unconnected
with any determinate and fixed signification, varied ad
ivfinitum among different nations, and often coniradic-
tory in their mode of application : whereas natural ob-
jects, being permanent in form, and character, the
native study, and delight of man, what Is more easy
and direct than their symbolic application, and the
imitation of them in reference to mental ideas?

We placed Poetry and Song among the earliest in-
ventions of man, if they be not rather gitts than inven-
tions: these were long prior to conimunication of them
by writing, these draw all their images from Nature,
why should not a sister Art, with almost equal fa-
cility, tread the same path? If Poetry lamented the
early death of some fair infant, as a flower just opening
prematurely plucked, why may not a painted flower-bud
indicate the same event? (M^e know it did in after
times.) If Poetry lament the separation of friends, and
vow fidelity, the joining hands of picture expresses the

idc^

MOSAIC HISTORY OF ART. 29

idea with at least equal force. Be it remembered, that
the forms of plants, tiieir flowers, and their leaves, the
forms of trees, and the general spread of their branches,
are not difficult of desi<m ; a?id that design of these ac-
tually exists, where the higher branches of Art are
not studied, and apparently independent of desire to
study then. I forbear to enlarge, but I just hint that
certain geometrical figures so readily offer themselves
for easy imitation, such as crescents, stars, and rays,
that one can scarce suppose where these were known
Design was utterly unknown.

Though probability strongly inclines to placing the
origin of Picture in remotest antiquity, yet we have no
authority, that has come to my knowledge, to justify
positive affirmation of the fact ; no trace of Painting
-occurs, so far as I recollect, in the writings of Moses,
nor any allusion to it, and therefore this supposition
must rest on the reason of things, and candid inference
from the state of other brancb.cs of Art.

If the ring which Pharoah gave Joseph " from
his own hand," says IvIoses, was, as I suppose, a sig-
net ring, (JosEPHUS calls it his signet) we have an
early instance of Sculpture applied to Engraving; and
if the cup wherein Joseph drank, was, as is likely, ,
handsomely ornamented, we see the Art further ex-
tended, and doubtless cultivated and improved.

Thus from the accidental hints afforded by Moses,
we have collected what evidence relates to the Arts.
From the death of Joseph to the Exodus of Israel, a
space of 300 years, is a chasm of history we are un-
able to supply. We may, I think, afiirm, that not
only many new arts were adopted, but that the an-
cient were improved : becoming progressively more
common and popular, they doubtless furnished em-
ployment to greater numbers of professors, among
which increased numbers,would naturally arise a greater

proportion

50 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

proportion of men of talents, and ingenuity ; though
their memorials, which might have proved them so, have
perished : for, though some have suggested that the py-
ramids of Egypt might date from the children of
Israel, yet had that been the case, their historian Moses
would certainly have corroborated the testimony of Jo-
se phus, and have mentioned those labours expressly,
as well as the building of the cities Raamses and Pi-
thom'

From the death or embalmment of Josevh to the
Exodus, no hint that I recollect, alludes to any other Arts
dian magic arts. Our first period of Art therefore in-
cludes from the flood to the erection of the Mosaic ta*
bernacle J whose construction and ornaments being very
fully descril>ed, together with the ceremonies to which
it was adapted, we refer to the Mosaic accounts, and
to a comparison of them with the temple afterwards
erected by Soloivion, for further information.

We arc arrived at a period when the Arts were not
solitaiy, but in company ; not confined to one nation,
but cultivated by several ; and in various parts of the
earth. We m^ay now therefore attend distinctly to
each, and to each as practised by various nations :
though we cannot particularize their progress, we may
obtain some general idea of their states at different pe-
riods ; and though the style, the mode, and the estima-
lion, of their practice, is concealed by the effects of
time, the ravages of war, or the convulsions of nature,
yet we have the melancholy pleasure of tracing where
they once occupied, and of pointing out the spots
where thev once flourished.

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ARt. 31

OF PRIMITIVE ART UNDER NOAR

The center of Asia seems to me to have been re-
l^eatedly the center of mankind ; first, as I suppose it
to have been the seat, if not of Paradise, yet of Eden;
and secondly, as I think we may justly consider it as
that part of tiie world v.'here Noah first settled after the
deluge, and from whence his posterity replenished the
earth. What might have been the state of the Arts
previous to the deluge, we have no means of determin-
ing, unless some suppositions may be permitted at tliat
portion of them preserved by the care of Noah and his
sons : and these suppositions must rather be guided by
probability than by information : for, whatever m.ight
be the abilities of the antediluvians (and possibly thej
were very great) in respect of Art, they could only be
called into cxcercise according to circumstances, and
circumstances do not upon the whole seem to have re-
quired extraordinary exertions of Art.

The Arts in existence before the flood, were. Archi-
tecture— civil — so far as concerned dwellings: and in
the instance of the ark — naval — so far as concerned
that vessel: beside these, husbandry, music, metalkir-
gy, and probably, weaving, or spinning ; for this has
been thought to be the distinction of Naamah, if not
her invention, though not at present mentioned respect-
ing her by Moses.

Of their Architecture every memorial has perished :
nor is it likely any edifice survived the deluge, notwith-
standing what Josephus mentions of the pillars oiShem,
one of stone, and the other of brick. Their music also
has shared the same fate ; unless some relics of its prin-
ciples, or of its instruments, might remain among Noah

and

52 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART,

and his sons ; to be afterwards employed in solemn
worship. Their poetry has however been preserved in
a single specimen ; for which perhaps, it is beholden
to its brevity.

Lamech, said to his wives:

** Adah and Zillah hear my voice :

Ye wives of Lamech, attend to my speech :

Have I slain a man in my wound.

Even a young njan in my hurt : —

If Cain s^.ould be avenged seven- fold.

Surely Lamech seventy times seven!"

I think it likely that much other knowledge would
be acquired by Noah and his sons, whether by per-
sonal study of it or communication by books or other-
wise, after tiic notice given to the patriarch of the
coming dejugc : yet as Noah preserved himself pure
from the vices of his times, he must also have pre-
served a certain distance from the prolligates addicted
to those vices, and hence perhaps his ignorance of the
power and properties of the vinous juice. Rational
and intelligent learning, problems of various kinds,
historical information, and the whole circle of graver
studies, (if not a 'ready in the patriarch's possession as
having received part of his attention) might be easily
obtained without much intercourse among the sons of
violence, who probably were ill qualified to commu-
nicate useful knowledge j which only could be hoped
for from the least debauched of the community. This
idea accounts for the surprising knowledge in geome-
try and mathematics which India offers in early ages.

After so capital an instance of carpentry as the con-
struction of the ark, that art could scarcely be lost
among the immediate descendants of those engaged in

iti

PRIMITIVE ART UNDER NOAT. 33

it j nor is it unlikely the building itself might endure
many years 5 some have said for ages.

If Noah resided for a time in the centre of Asia, no
doubt he there taught all he knew : whether he there
spent his whole life, which is likely, or whether he re-
moved eastward we know not ; but I think it certain
he did not come westward, with those who travelled
to the plain of Shinaar; whom I rather suppose to have
been principally influenced by Ham. It may be ima-
gined that Ham, his family, and adherents, quitted
Noah not long after his curse, and in consequence of
the offence it gave (for we cannot justly date that trans-
action) while Shem and Japhet remained with their
father, a considerable time, if not to the close of his
life. Much of their posterity might be sent out to co-
lonize, as they became numerous, and afterwards theic
original fathers might occasionally visit and regulate
them : perhaps after a time, or after the death of Noah,
might settle and govern among them. We have reason
to think such visits and journies were the custom of
Ham: (agreeably to what is related of him under the
character of Osiris) and if of Ham, probably of his
brothers. We may say then for the sake of a date,
that about fifty or an hundred years after the flood, or
A. M. 1700 or 1750, Ham and his associates quitted
Noah, or revolted from his government, Noah having
foretold his, and his posterity's fate, to this effect :

" Cursed be Ham : the father of traffic :

A servant of servants shall he be to his brethren."

I think it likely, that it may at length appear, that
Noah established the divisions of professions by fa-
milies, as practised by the Indians and Egyptians, (the
two most ancient nations we know) I therefore rather
render Cainaan in its sense of a merchant (which the
Vol. IV. F part 2. word

S4 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

word imports) than as a proper name — and if the priest-
hood (as among the Bramins, Egyptians, Jews, &c.)
were also appointed hereditary by Noaii, in the poste-
rity of Shem, it will include a meaning not hitherto
supposed in his {prophetic words ; which though per-
haps misplaced here, I beg leave to introduce, as l
(fonjecture they should be read.

" Blessed be JEIIOVAH, God of Siir.M.
For he shall dwell among the tents of Shem :"

i.e. God shall dwell in the h.abitations of steady, settled,
virtuous persons ; the name Shem importing him who
settles: and expressing, I presume, the character of Shem.

" God shall enlarge the enlarger"

i. e. Japhet : the name signifying the enlarger.

That this prophecy (which should be wholly verse)
has l;)een heretofore injured, is generally supposed —
that a verse is lost in reference to Japhet, I think is
to be feared ; and that we have here a reference to
three classes of professions, seems tome probable — i.e.

JigricuUirc to Japhet and his posterity.

Rcligicni to Shem and his posterity.

Traffic to Ham and his posterity.

Unhappily, succeeding generations were obliged to
add the trade of war to the others ; and these/a?//- now
form the chief classes or casts among the inhabitants of
India where tliey still subsist : as they did antiently in
Egypt.

N. B, Shem and Japhet were, perhaps, blessed se-
parately from Ham's punishment ; and toward the close
of Noah's life: which accounts for the di&tiiictivc "and
he said" in the relation of Moses.

The

PRIMITIVE ART UNDLR NOAH. 35

The center of Asia though fertile once, is desert now ;
it is therefore vain to seek for tho knowledge, or art, of
the parent stock of mankind, except as preserved by the
branches : — these may be divided into — Eastern, 2. e.
India and its dependencies: — Western, i. c. Babylon,
Egypt, &c. — Eruopean, /. e. Grecian, &c.

It would be extending this v.ork almost to infinity,
fo trace very curiously the course of the arts in these di-
visions ; — the materials for it are not to be obtained, in
most instances — in others, are very laborious, expen-
sive, or unwieldy — if indeed they are interesting to any
but professed antiquaries. A concise view of each may
therefore answer our present purpose, as general infor-
mation is all that can be used to advantage with a view
to improvement.

AVe may here previously suggest a few ideas, perhaps
we might call them rules, applicable to this subject.

1. As all Arts originate from one center, they will
be more or less resembling to each other, in style, man-
ner, and application.

2. This resemblance will be most apparent, the
nearer they are practised to their source, either in time,
or in situation.

3. This resemblance will be least apparent, the fur-
ther distant they are from their source.

4. The intercourse of nations will have a great effect
on the productions of Art ; — since the artists must ac-
comodate themselves to their purchasers for foreign
traffic j and since they must imitate foreign excellence,
or rarity, for home consumption.

5. ITiis effect will be the greater the more intimately
the nations are related to their first source.

6. Climate, manners, religion, rites, ceremonies, and
the application of the productions of Art, have great
influence on Art in general.

F2 OF

56 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

OF THE

ARTS IN INDIA, AND THE EAST OF ASIA.

The inhabitants o{ India boast of supreme antiquity ;
compared to them every account the western world
can produce, is but as of yesterday ; we have no books
dated half a million of years ago, when human life was
ordinarily an hundred thousand years in duration, nor
yet in that distribution ot time when according to
them ten thousand years was its allotted period ; a
single thousand being more than any man ever reached
according to our relations. What shall we say then to
this profound antiquity ! If we exchange their years
for months, reckoning them lunar, not solar, still they
are beyond credibility j we rather esteem them fables
founded on allegory, or perhaps, in astronomy, and
concealing the principles of those who composed them
from the scrutiny of the vulgar ; an art perhaps not
first learned from the Egyptians under ScsostJi's, what-
ever else they might learn from them, including, say
they. Idolatry.

But though these pretensions to excessive antiquity
must be rejected, yet we readily admit that this country
was very early inhabited, by a powerful and inge-
nious people, in whose customs and manners may be
traced the observance of sundry of those precepts
usually called NoacJxical, and whose institutions, and
distinctions, bear the stamp of the remotest ages. AVe
are not now estimating their power, but proposing some
observations on their ingenuity j and though we have
reason to think that few of their antient monuments are
come down to us, yet those which we judge to be the
most ancient have their merit, and their general style

HISTORY OF ART IN INDIA, &C. 37

is perhaps transmitted among their successors, more
clearly -than we are accustomed to observe among the
nations of Europe.

We are indeed in this case unable to trace the pro-
gress of Art, as transmitted down to us; we must, as it
were, climb up to former ages, and guess at them and
their productions by later specimens. Revolutions of
kingdoms and change of masters, doubtless operate cor-
responding revolutions in Art; but it should seem that,
whoever has conquered India, has been little able to
improve the Art found there, and the more we know
of the early science of this part of the globe, the more
we are led to think highly of those who cultivated such
science to so great advantage. Architecture, Sculp-
ture, Painting, Scenical Decorations, Ornaments of
Apparel, and Ensigns of Dignity, were from remote an-
tiquity among the articles which aiForded employment
to the Arts of Design.

The most ancient edifices hitherto discovered in India
are ornamented caves, used no doubt as temples (such as
that of Elephanta for example) they have a regularity
and contrivance which is surprising ; they manifest an
astonishing patience in the execution ; they must have
been undertaken by rich and powerful patrons; and
they must have occupied multitudes of workmen, and
for a long period ; these circumstances indicate a state
of prosperity and population, which can hardly be ex-
pected in original settlers, unless such settlers were a
powerful colony under very wise direction. But, such
as these specimens are, they may afford a hint or two
in relation to Art; they are usually immense masses of
solid rock, hewn into chambers and apartments by
the chissel, their sides smoothened, their ceilings sup-
ported by pillars, ornamented by numerous Sculptures
in relief, commonly tolerably proportioned, though of

gigantic^

S8 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

gigantic dimensions. These shew the style of the tim«
wherein they were executed ; but, I think, I discover
in those of Elephanta the different tastes of different
sculptors though performed at the same time. Doubt-
less also many additions have been made, at later pe-
riods, to the first design ; and, if I might venture, with-
out being condemned as too hypothetical, to say so
much, I have thought, whether the first design of many
cave-temples had not greatly the air of some tradition-
ary resemblance to a floor of the ark, the roof being
always low, the center spacious, the columns on either
side resembling the uprights of that edifice, the object
(or its symbols) of worship being at the upper end,
(but rarely hidden by inclosure) and the priests' cham-
bers on each side of it; if this be fact, then the absence
of light, except from the door, is no less commemora-
tive than solemn ; artificial illumination supplying its
place on necessary occasions.

Sculpture attains not to established proportions till
after dih'gcnt attention ; therefore as the figures which
adorn the ancient temples of India are commonly well
proportioned, and well worked in respect of handling,
\\c must regard these rather as traditionary taste im-
proved, then as original beginnings of Art.

India abounds in magnificent tombs and palaces, as
well as temples, but those structures of every kind which
seem most justly to claim remotest antiquity, are of very
great labour, great masses and magnitude, but of least
ornament, and of fewest parts; those temples most ap-
proaching to the pyramidal form (unless this form was
imported by the Egyptians) and rising by steps, least
hollowed within, and rather adapted (in appearance at
least) for extemal ascent, than for internal accommoda-
tion. We have reason to believe that the same manners
and customs, the same dresses, the same ornaments,

tlie

HISTORY OF ART IN INDIA, &C. 39

the same taste, have been cultivated in India full three
thousand years ; allusions in their ancient writings, ac-
counts transmitted by ancient (foreign) authors, and the
witness of existing antiquities, attest the fact ; and had
not the incursion of Sesostris introduced tenets which
afterwards spread widely, perhaps little hesitation need
be used in placing Indian Art as the most ancient of all,
perhaps the origin of all others; at least it is certain,
that where jurisprudence and public institutions of law,
of morality, of religion, and of decorum, were studied,
and well regulated ; where power, and wealth, and
plenty were associated; where temples and palaces, and
magnificent tombs were common ; where dramatic per-
formances were in esteem, and where embellishment
in general both personal and domestic, was in request,
there might the Arts be expected to flourish.

When we know little of the history of a country, we
know of course less of the history of its Arts : a few
general principles, are all we can apply to such in-
stances ; peace and war, conquest and defeat, doubtless
had greatly the same effect in promoting or suspending
the Arts in India, as elsewhere ; but not perhaps,
altogether, for the class of warriors usually contending
only with others of the same class, the husbandman
often felt not the rage of war, though it did rage, neither
was the trader, nor the Bramin, interrupted — and may
we not justly add the Artist? — if the artist, as a pro-
fession, was not allied to the duties of the Bramin, or
at least, under the protection of the order.

"We have said the structures of India were magni-
ficient, and the sculptures not ill proportioned; as to
the pictures of that country, they display splendid co-
lours, but without harmony; and tolerable drawing,
but without grace ; they are all light and no shadow;
consequently they have no repose. The^ exhibit no

know-

40 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

knowledge of perspective, or keeping ; but are too
fiat, too uniform, too insipid. I judge from having
seen several portraits, &c. of their Nabobs, and other
expensive performances, executed by persons certainly
esteemed of no mean skill. Ordinary pictures have
been for a long time no rarities ; but from these we
cannot judge.

As to the Arts of other Asiatic empires, China seems
principally to engross them. The Chinese have merit,
but not that merit which requires extent of thought
or sublimity of conception : fidelity and resemblance,
neatness and delicacy, we may allow them ; patience
and labour, the mechanic practice of Art they possess ;
but they possess not that refined elegance which origi-
nates in the deeply reflective mind, or that impressive
effect which captivates the spectator, and impassionates
the heart.

BABYLONISH HISTORY OF ART, 41

OF THE ARTS IN THE COUNTRIES ADJACENT
" TO BABYLON.

Peace is the friend and reviver of Art, war is its ene-
my and destroyer ; as peace has contributea to the se-
curity, ease, and riches, of a state, the disposition of
its inhabitants has been turned to the acquisition of en-
joyments, of amusements, of elegancies, w^hich at less
favourable periods were forgotten or relinquished. For,
when inhuman war, preceded by alarm and dread,
accompanied by terror and distress,- followed by mas-
sacre, famine, and pestilence, overwhelms' mankind,
where is the possibillity of that sedate self-possession,
of that cool contemplative forecast, or reliection, re-
quired by every exertion for the improvement of Art?
The various political events of the times, therefore,
ought to be considered in their aspect on the subjects
under enquiry, if we seek intimate and particular in-
formation respecting them : but as this would introduce
undue length, and irksome repetition in reference to
the Arts, it is better to bear in mind the natural con-
nection and influence of these events ; in conjunction
with that impenetrable obscurity which surrounds the
earlier periods of history. This obscurity is the more
perplexing, as it arises from various causes; — from the
entire want of information, and the total silence of his-
torians;— from their little attention to these studies; —
from the confusion of their reports ; and from the in-
adequacy of their judgements.

A stranger who visits a remote kingdom, must be
liable to much ambiguous information, even if he can
have access to the proper channel for obtaining infor-
mation; he can scarce avoid embracing the opinions

Vol. IV. G part 2 _ of

42 A CONCISE HISTOUY OF ART.

of Hs instructor, though perhaps another person might
state the same subject in a different manner, and, of all
which he hears or sees, he will judge after the mode to
which he has been accustomed, and by comparison with
the ss.me kind of subject,as ho has heard or seen it, in his
own country- If we suppose such a traveller designedly
impaitial, and as farss may be, unbiassed, in his prin-
ciples of rectitude, though he may not intendedly use
the privilege of travellers, and magnify distant objects,
y-et being under the necessity of communicating his
inlOiTrjation m such a manner as may be intelligible to
Ms auditors, at home, in another country, and in
another language^ his accounts must needs deviate in
same degree horn, exactness, and excite ideas not punc-
tually coirespondent to the subject under description.
Add to thisj the rarity of copies in ancient times, and
tiie casuaJ. errors of ti'anscribers throughout a scries ot
agjes, and we shall form some conception of the allow-
ances necessary to be made in reading ancient authors,
and of the embarrassments under which we labour in
perusal of them.

As 2( complete or accurate history of this very ancient
cmph"e is little to be hoped for, a glance or two at
isomc of its leading events is all I propose.

We have formerly concluded that about one hun-
dred years after the deluge, men were sufficiently mul-
tiplied to think of building a capital city, and an im-
mense tower, which afterwards received the name of
Babel: this may well be thought to have remained in
some considerable degree, the metropolis of those fa-
milies who continued seated in the country around it
NiMROD or NiMus, (supposed to be the first Bti or
Baal, i.e. Lord) emigrating from Babylon, built Ni-
neveh about A. M. 1955, which, from the success at-
tending his exertions and prowess in war, and his trans-
planting

BABYLONISH HISTORY OF ART, 43

planting the people whom he conquered into this
his new city, in time rivalled and exceeded Babylon,
becoming the absolute metropolis of the Assyrian em-
pire ; which gradually extended itself very far on all
sides in Asia. Nineveh, the seat of empire, was doubt-
Jess the seat of Art; and by what accounts are come
dowm to us, may be considered as a city of great mag-
nitude and magnificence, including royal palaces of
very extensive dimensions. From the foundation of
the city, to its ruin under Sardanapalus, A, M.
3255, ante A. D. 747, was about 1300 years; and
though it might afterwards in some degree recover
from this fall, yet now Babylon resumed its former
superiority, and long maintained it.

On the ruins of the Assyrian power arose two empires,
the Median, and the Babylonian ; ruled by those wiio had
formerly been governors of these districts under Sar-
danapalus. Are ACES had Media; Belesis Babylon,
Chaldea, and Arabia. Arbaces resided at Nineveh,
and there governed his new empire, nineteen years
himself, and his successors about 135 years. About
ante A.D. 612, A. M. 3390, Nabopollassar in con-
junction with Cyaxares besieged Nineveh, and to
gratify the Medes, totally destroyed it — from which
time Babylon became the sole metropolis of the Assy-
rians.

With the destruction of Nineveh, no doubt the spe-
cimens of Art it possessed were destroyed also ; those
only that were portable, could be rescued from the
general ruin, and, if the Babylonians were not too in-
veterate against a rival city might be transferred to Ba-
bylon.

Babylon underwent various fates ; being first subject
to Belesis or Nabonasar, the Baladan of the
scriptures (Isaiah xxxix. 1.) whose son Merodach Ba-

G 2 LADAN

44 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

LADAN sent the famous embassy to Hezekiah king o^
Judah; ante A.T>. 713. About 87 years after which
circumstance Nabopollassar revolting from the king
of Assyria, seized Babylon ; and was succeeded by his
son Nebuchadnessar, who prodigiously adorned that
city. Ante A. D. 539, Cyrus took Babylon; as did
Alexander the Great, ante A. D. 331, whose ex-
ploits while there, together with his magnificence, and
ostentation, his debauchery and profligacy, are well
knjwn: there he died; and his kingdom being divided,
Babylon ioW to the share of Seleucus; and was totally
ruined ; partly by inattention to its banks for restrain-
ing the water, and partly by the rivalship of a new city
about ^7/^6" A.D. 293, and the space within its walls
was made a park for hunting, by the Parthian kings.
When its walls were entirely destroyed is not known :
nor is its ancient scite at present ascertained.

In connecting the history of Art with that of Baby-
lon, we may refer principally to three points of time :
first, the earliest instance of Art in the tower of Babel;
secondly, the ostentation of Nebuchadnessar ; and
thirdly, its state when supporting the profligacy of
Alexander. But as no remains of any of its produc-
tions are come to our knowledge, we are of necessity
forced to acquiesce in what accounts are transmitted to
us : which relate little of those remote times when Art
was in its infancy. It seems to me that to acquire ideas
ot that state, we must advert to the period when Mis-
RAiM the son of Ham, quitting the plains of Shinar,
settled in Egypt (this might be A. M. 1800, or ante
A. D. 2200.) and there practised the Arts then known
in Babylon ; though perhaps varied, to suit the dif-
ferences of climate, and soil, and other peculiarities.

HISTORY OF ART IN EGYPT. 45

OF THE ARTS IN EGYPT.

If Misraim the son of Ham, was, as is usually
said, the first pnnce in Egypt, if he went thither from
the plains of Shinar, we may well attribute to the
Egyptian polity the remotest antiquity; nor need we
hesitate to conclude that the rudiments of Art were
introduced by the earliest settlers, and being cultivated
with attention, rose to considerable importance. In
fact, the remains of Egyptian buildings, excited curio-
sity and admiration, even in times which we call an-
tient; and were visited as antiquities by those ac-
quainted with studies of Art, as well as Philosophers;
we need only instance, Herodotus the historian, and
Homer the poet, among the Greeks; and among the
Romans Germanicus, who by inspecting the anti-
quities of Egypt, irritated the suspicious Tiberius,
A. D. 19.

We find traces of the Egyptian power, and govern-
ment, in the history of Abraham ; which also informs
us of Egypt's fertility. In the time of Joseph, we
trace the same order of traffic, and caravans, as
in later ages ; and sufficient indications of pomp and
splendour to justify our conceiving of much more than
is actually expressed. When we consider the nature of
the country, that then, as now, the overflowing Nile
was the source of plenty, we may infer that then, as
,now, canals to direct its waters where they did not
naturally reach, would be acceptable : and that some
of them, at least, would be great works, and require
no little skill in their conductors. Add to this, that
during the annual inundation, the lower grounds being
uninhabitable, the upper grounds became natural sta-
tions

46 A COKCISE HISTORY OF ART.

tlons for cities j that these cities required a solidity
of construction, for various purposes ; whether to resist
the -weight of waters in some points, or to contain
the stores and property of the inhabitants : these,
in conjunction with the usual causes of strength and
embellishment in cities, such as fortifications for re-
sistance, palaces for rulers, and especially temples for
worship ; w^ould prompt, if not rather force, the gover-
nors to employ the most durable materials, and the
most skilful construction. It is not unlikely that among
the nations who first used stone in building, we should
reckon the Egyptians ; for, though brick in union with
timber, might long maintain its station for smaller edi-
fices, yet for larger works, and for works exposed to
alternate water and heat, stone is unquestionably the
only fit material. We may imagine that a frame-
work of timber, not unlike the skelton of a tent,
#illcd up with tenacious clay, might be the early hut ;
to this clay succeeded unburnt bricks, which, w^ell dried
in the sun, bid fair to be durable in a land rarely vi-
sited by rain. The next step w^as, to burn bricks tho-
roughly, especially for buildings of size, and then the
adoption of stone w^as an easy transition. We find the
Israelites engaged in making brick ; but that is not
conclusive against the use of stone ^ as stone Avas found
only in upper Kgypt ; whereas the soil of Goshen, in
lower Egypt, where the Israelites dwelt, was rather
earth and clay than stone, rather meadow than rocky.
Also, to convey heavy burdens of stone up the Nile,
against the stream, was useless ; when by the side of
the river, in its upper parts, huge quarries offered
themselves, with a ready and favourable- passage down
tlie stream.. The Israelites built for Piiaraoh " store-
cities" — treasure cities, or magazines, for corn, &c.
■which the LXX render * fortified cities.' To consume

the

HISTORY OF ART IN EGYPT. 4{T

the labour of so many men as were probably employed!
on them, they were, we may suppose, of considerabla
magnitude; but of these we have no remains.

AVhether, as Josephus asserts, the Israelites also*
built the pyramids, or not, their antiquity entitles them
to our earliest attention, and we come now to consider
those very astonishing memorials of antient structure.
The pvramids, solid by their materials, and permanent
b) their form, remain to justity the accounts trans-
mitted to us of other edifices. Of these the largest is-
thought by travellers to be the oldest ; it is in length
on its sides, about 700 feet, its angular height the same,
its perpendicular height not quite 500 feet ; resting on
abase ofrock, of which every advantage has been taken,
and which, toward the bottom, is perhaps partly cased;
the rest of the building being a solid mass of stones;
some of them prodigious large, and all very weighty,
especially to raise to so great a height. By what king
this was built is uncertain : Herodotus calls him
Cheops: and says the setond pyramid was built by
Cephren his brother: by Syncellus, Nitocris is said
to have built the third pyramid. In such uncertainty
has issued such mighty labours ! No mention has ever
been made of the name of the architects employed ;
perhaps as artists they were little regarded.

As these are among the earliest instances of Art,
let us consider what principles of Art they possess. (1)
Their form is that best fitted for durability, (2) their
height renders them conspicuous, (3) their workman-
ship is excellent: the stones, which compose the cham-
bers usually visited, are nicely joined, well cut, and
polished ; now as this is the result of experience in work-
manship, it demonstrates — these are not the original
instances of application of stone in buildings. More-
©ver the tomb inclosed is of porphyry ; whose dif-
ficulty

48 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

ficulty to work is well known, and baffles the skill of
modern Artists. Let us also remark , some things in
which these buildings are deficient. (l)They have no
ornaments ; not even the tomb has any relievo on it,
(2) they have no hint of columns of any kind, or
mouldings to correspond ^vith them: (3) they have no
circular arches throughout their construction ; — other
ancient Egyptian buildings generallyhave ornaments in
profusion, though of hieroglyphics only. Was this the
result of the state of Architecture at this time } Had
the original tower of Babel, of which I conceive these
are imitations, no arches? Herodotus indeed men-
tions arches as supporting parts of it ; but were they
circular arches, and if they were of that form, were they
not added afterwards? rather were not these pyramids
transcripts of that famous edifice (which Strabo calls
pyramidal) before its enlargement, and ornament by
Nebuciiadnessar? but which, being composed of
more durable materials, accredit the accounts of that
original which they endeavoured to emulate. With
this idea agrees the general form of all the ancient
Egyptian temples remaining, which is universally pyra-
midal, and of several very ancient structures in India;
whose general resemblance is little short of exact. We
run little risque in dating the pyramids before any other
remaining structures.

We can by no means pretend to determine strictly
the course of improvements adopted in private con-
structions, or even in sacred edifices, but as the usual
progress of things is from small to large, we may
acquire some idea of this course; and we may as
well exemplify it in the buildings of Egypt as in those
of any other nation. Always remembering, that pro-
bability is all can be offered on such very remote sub-
jects; and this, as combined with, and regulated by,
the manners of a people, their wants the events ot

their

HISTORY OF ART IN EGYPT. 49

their history, their mixture with other nations, and
partial, or total adoption of their customs, the acci-
dents of their climate, and the nature of their religious
rites and ceremonies.

The private and humble dwellings of ordinary in-
habitants, never were, in any country, so solidly con-
structed as to defy the ravages of time ; nor were those
of the most opulent individuals designed for purposes
bevond their personal accommodation. Pafeces indeed
were public buildings, and engaged the best Art of
a nation ; but these, in case of war and capture by
the enemy, were most likely to suffer in general pillage.
The temples only, whose sanctity might secure them
from ruin, while their construction, often superior to
tiiat OY the palaces, ensured their duration, — the tem-
ples only, can be expected to exhibit to later ages, the
principles oi Art as understood at the time of their
erection. To this agrees the present state of all the
antiquities existing in Egypt; a few ruins, scarcely dis-
ccrnable, remain here and there, of some of the royal
buildings m that country i but, in general, the palaces
may be regarded as levelled to the ground; whereas
many temples have escaped the fury of men, and the
accidents of ages, and remain, though decayed, yet de-
cisive, monuments of antient grandeur.

Tiie first temples were like the first dwellings, sim-
ple in construction, and small in dimensions: the sup-
posed habitation of a God, or a Goddess, differed
little from the real habitation of the votary. Perhaps
a simple cabin ; or if a hedge, a mound of earth, or
other small inclosure surrounded it, this slight fence
was thought sufficient to indicate its consecration, and
to prevent intrusion. Afterwards, when the support of
an officiator was deemed honourable to the Divinity,
the temple must be augmented to accommodate the

Vol. IV. H part 2 residents i

50 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART,

residents; and strange indeed would it be, if the resi-
dents in one temple did not wish to honour their tute-
lary Deity with more costly offerings, in more sump-
tuous structures, and with more numerous worship-
pers than their rivals, lliese required enlarged di-
mensions of the edifice, and enlarged dimensions re-
quired additional skill in the architect. It' tht longer
beams were not better sustained than the shorter, they
would bend, perhaps break ; if the roof were not bet-
ter constructed, it would alarm, and might destroy the
votaries : the beams, therefore, were propped with
supports, and Geometry was called in to adjust the
roof. It is true, no znooden structures remain to de-
monstrate this hypothesis, yet in some stone buildings
are preserved very probable vestiges of such a pro-
gress.

The position of a column in the middle of an entry,
seems by no means so convenient as to be supposed
desirable ; but it may here support and prop the in-
cumbent weight; and, certainly, a row of columns in
the middle of an edifice, from end to end, seems cal-
culated for no superior purpose, being equally foreign
from use and beauty. In fact, the awkwardness of
this position was soon discovered, and columns were
removed to a proportionate distance on each side the
centre ; thereby acquiring uniformity at the same time
that they contributed strength.

Perhaps the word column o\\'^\\i not to be used as
descriptive of these supports ; they were probably
mere upright beams ; their branches lopped, but their
trunks rough as nature furnished them ; probably too»
the idea of a capital as an ornament might be suggest-
ed by an additional block to render one or other of
sufficient length ; and thus might some happy genius,
pleased with the appearance of a head-pkct, and im-
pressed

HISTORY or ART IN EGYPT. 51

pressed with the beauty of uniformity, unite by rule
what before was the effect of chance, and originate
the rudimental principles of what we now term an
ORDER. This appears to me as likely an account
of that strange peculiarity in the Doric order, undoubt-
edly the most ancient, of having no base, but in all its
remaining early specimens, going straight into the
ground, as the commonly received supposition of its
resemblance to the human frame ; which can be satis-
factory only to those who imagine that column was an-
ciently without feet.

The internal distribution of a temple deserves
attention ; for think not the holy and most holy were
equally accessible ; the magnificence of the portico first
struck the mind with solemnity, before the worship-
pers entered the sacred edifice, which was not on all
occasions, for sacrifices were usually offered in the area
before the temple, not inside the building, which was
totally dark, having no windows ; and little light from
the door-way. Having passed the portico, the door
admitted into the first apartment, beyond which was
the adytum or most profound recess. Agreeably to
these ideas, and in traditionary imitation of the vene-
rable gloom of consecrated groves, most of the Pagan
rites within their temples were performed in obscurityj
or torches or lamps added a dim lustre to the mystic
ceremonies. Such was their general construction : but
temples dedicated to many deities, were constantly open
at the top J whether, supposing such an assembly like
that of the Gods on Olympus, or whether, to provide
against mistakes in votaries, who might worship a
wrong God of the assortment, I will not determine.
' I conceive that most, if not all of the truly ancient
Egyptian rites, were commemorative of facts, or of
persons, or of both united. Nothing seems more pro-

H 2 bably

52 A CONCISE HISTORY Ol- ART.

bably to have been their origin than u desire ot in-
forming posterity on the subject of certain occurrences
esteemed interesting, and to transmit ideas and rela-
tions of them to future generations: but where histo-
ric records are unknown, except to a very few, where
letters, if existing, do not popularly prevail, what bet-
ter method can be suggested to assist tradition, than
ceremonies imitating and representing in some degree
the fact to be transmitted ? Suppose it a bloody bat-
tle—a sham fight renewed the whole story; especially
if the names of the contending parties were annually
repeated : Suppose it a death deeply lamented — an
annual mom*niiig on the day of decease, and especially
if accompanied by funeral solemnities, for such or such
a person, revived the grief of all attendants. On the
other hand, if it was a signal benefit — joy and exulta-
tion had its memorative lorce on this occasion ; and
fell little short of that pleasure which attended the ori-
ginal fact. This was doubtless the first mode of historic
information i it is in its nature the most impressive,
and the most lasting ; witness the Passover yet retain-
ed among the Jews, the Eucharist among Christians,
and many similar instances, though perhaps somewhat
changed in their objects by succeeding superstitions,
still existing in the east. The Arabs have some whieli
they refer so far back as to Ishmael; and Kgypt has
some, very plausibly thought to be derived from the
generations which succeeded Osii'is.

The first worship was in the open air, or in the so-
lemn grove: nor was any tent, shed, or protection
raised, till a sacred enclosure, at least, if not till an
idol, was to be protected; to whom after a while, a
guardian was added. To accommodate the idol, a
house was built, and to accommodate the guardian,
this house had various additions, and augmentations,

till

HISTORY OF ART IN EGVPT. 55

till )t became what we term a temple. This, in a
Tew words, is the liistory ot Architecture ; varied no
doubt, by a thousand different circumstances, local, or
accidental, to suit the ability, or the tancv, or the super-
stition, of the time and place, or ot erectors and pa-
trons.

Sculpture in Egypt appears to have early reached a
certain degree ot merit, and to have adopted a cer-
tain style, mode of expression, and effect, which it long
retained; and which in some departments became ve-
nerable and sacred. That the Egyptians practised
sculpture in wood, from early ages, appears amonc-
otlier instances from the number of ligures shown
to Herodotus by the priests of Egypt, repr«-
senting so many (1 suppose. Royal) priests in succes-
sion, every one being obliged to place there his sta-
tue: each of which was denoted as a '■' pyromii; son
oi 2i pjjromis ;' i.e. ■Si great personage, but no deity.
After wood, ivory was a very favourite substance, be-
ing easily cut, and of great delicacy. Sycamore w^ood
was in repute among the Egyptians. It may bear a
query whether it was not part of the office of the
Egyptian priests to provide idols for the temples i per-^^
haps of their own performance: this may derive some-
support from the Israelites' application to Aaron t(?
make them Gods ; and from the part he took in that
business. Had not the people seen such instances in
the country they quitted ? Why else overlook the
abilities of Bezaleel, and Holiab?

Many circumstances concurred to render statues of
wood likely to be the first adopted : the material being
easily worked, light of carriage from place to place,
when requisite, as in public religious processions, light
of weight, if placed on any support, or pedestal, and
susceptible of painting, gilding, and other ornament.

The

54 A CON'ClSli HISTORY OF ART.

The expence of working stone, was no doubt greatly
superior to that ot" working wood, or of casting metals;
while wood was less liable to accidents than statues
of terra cotta, (the first of models) to which a down-
fall was utter ruin. Some of these wooden figures, or
imitations of them, also in wood, still exist. As to
Egyptian stone statues the labour in working some of
them is prodigious ; those of porphyry consumed a
whole year in polishing only.

We cannot properly caH the rough unhewn styli, or
memorial pillar?, or betulia, by the name of Sculp-
ture; though I think, we nmst allow them to be very
early approaches to it; if not the origin of this Art.
But we are to consider them as too large and cumber-
:>ome to be carried about the person, while yet the
same devotion that erected them, would wish to have
the fact memorialised by the most convenient tokens,
by tokens relating to the power, or divinity, so com-
memorated ;and, as by degrees, the idea prevailed of that
divinity in some sort accompanying its representations,
the devotee would wish to have those advantages always
at hand, always in his house, always about his per-
son, as well as in the public structure or temple ; and
hence the numerous smaller statues of wood, or of
metal, which were little else than so many protecting
deities, talismans, or charms. But if we are to con-
sider most of the public Egyptian religious rites, as
being commemorations of deceased per^ions, Osiris,
IsiSy and others, we may conclude these persons were
represented as present at sucli ceremonies ; often, by
their images, together with their symbols; — these
images were imitations of those cofBns wherein they
were inclosed ; — those coffins were no other than the
mummies of these supposed deities, and as we know

the

HISTORY OF ART IN EGYPT. 5ii

the general form of mummies, we perceive in them
the first objects of study proposed to Art.

I conceive that, at first, the very identical mummies
of O^'mand his were usedm the commemoration ser-
vices of the city where they were deposited : some ac-
cidental cause might, atter a time, change them for
copies in that city ; and all other cities must be con-
tent with copies, or with ideal portraits, as substitutes,
from their fir^t acceptance of such Vr'orship. If then the
images of dead persons were properly the first Sculp-
tures, no wonder they v/ere still and motionless -, — their
arms hung down close to their sides, as did those of
a mummy ; their legs were closed, as were those of a
mummy j like a mummy too, the features of the
face were but slightly m irked, and the front of the fi-
gure only was paid attention to ; because, as mum-
mies originally stood in niches in the walls, the back
parts were totally concealed from the spectator. The
Egyptians had the mummies of their ancestors placed
orderly in their apartments ; and boasted in such a gal-
lery, as our noble families do in the pictured portraits
of their progenitors. May it not be thought that the
embalmers were the first sculptors ; and that a wooden
image being formed, it was painted like to a mummy,
when from some accident (such as dying in a foreign
country) the real person was not procurable ? and hence
we discover why countries at a distance from the origi-
nal seat of such worship, were less scrupulous respecting
the forms and attitudes of their sacred images ; because
they were less acquainted with, and less interested in,
the veracity of the portrait-representation.

Mummies were standing figures; but some of the
Egyptian statues were sitting ; this we account for,
from the subsequent ideas of the country (and certain-
ly these are later figures). Where labour and exer-
tion

56 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

tion arc consigned entirely to the lower classes, and in-
dolence is supposed to be a privilege attendant on rank^
-where to be waited on, is to be most strongly dis-
tinguished from those who wait; in a hot climate,
which produces laxity of habit, and of manners, a
sitting posture will be indulged by all capable of
indulging it: this obtains in those parts at this dayj
and probably always was so. Hence, deities were, after
n time, among the Egyptians represented sitting : i. e.
receiving in state the homages, the services, the adora-
tions, of their worshippers; and as being thereby placed
at the utmost distance of attitude and appearance from
ordinarv men.

If Sesostris lived, as some suppose, in A. M. 2800,
ante A, D. cir 1 200 years, and it he was the author of
those immense works attributed to him, (which no one
doubts) il follows, that Sculpture, as well as Architec-
ture, was cultivated in his reign ; as is demonstrated by
the creat Egyptian obelisks now at Rome ; and yet
further by the account of his erecting female Hermes
in the countries which he had conquered without re-
sistance. If the date of Sesostris be lowered, (to ante
A. I), c/r 1000) although the works attributed to him
are correspondcntly lowered also, yet unless those un-
dertakings could be supposed the very earliest of their
kind in Egypt, the Arts lose nothing ot their antiqui-
ty by this circumstance. However that may be, it is
granted their workmanship is excellent in its kind : and
the tools with which it is wrought were of ingenious
contrivance, and excellent temper; circumstances which
indicate progress in skill and manufacture.

But we may with little risque trace the progress in
form of the early figures; — placing first, the betulia,
or-.itnple stones, erected but not worked; doubtless
:h"ir iirst jaipruvcment was the addition ot a head;

and

HISTORY OF ART IN KCYPT. 5^

and this head was meant to be characteristic of the di-
vinity commemorated ; barely, perhaps, at first oistin-
i^Liishing whether male or female, whether old or
young : yet in time this excellence would gradually be
aitiiincd- But as the character of the face alone was
certainly inadequate to clear distinction, there was ne-
cessary some adjunct circumstance, symbol, or peculia-
rity, whereby the specific deity intended should be dis-
criminated: this seems to imply hands, to hold such
a tuken j these were improved by arms, and atterwards,
arms at length, not rising from the breast, but growing
from the shoulders ; thus the upper part of the figure
acquired a kind of perfection, while the whole body
and legs were represented by plain stone. (These
terms, or terniini, were extremely popular, and long
in use, and are retained by our Artists). Some
of these termini had feet ; probably such as tvere
required to stand on somewhat of an elevation, whe-
ther altar, or pedestal, separated from a wall : this ad-
dition of feet hinted strongly at the division of the
legs, which were long indicated, before they were dis-
joined ; and after they were disjoined, were long kept
parallel, and together, and straight upright, in perfect
conformity to the mummies, their venerated and con*
secrated prototypes.

Symbols are of very early invention, and of very
general use j and as they constantly accompanied cer-
tain deities, they became objects of respect, veneration,
and worship, even when separate from their peculiar
divinities. May we not guess that the expences, &c.
attending images of the Gods, rendered these lesser
idols popular } also, that these- from being substitutes,
became afterwards adjuncts, and might occasion that
monstrous mixture of animal heads, &c. whicn p-^e-
vailed ? They were also more convenient of carriage as

Vol- IV, /part 2 talismans.

58 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

talismans, or charms, a custom very prevalent in the
east, formerly, as well as at present.

Symbols seem to have arisen from several causes :
(l) from the names of persons represented ; if Rachel
signifies a sheep, Susamia a lilly, and li/ioda a rose, — a
s/iccpy a //7/y, a I'ose, will bring to mind Rachely Su-
san?2a, or Bhoda', put either of these symbols into the
hand of an image, you have, if not the portrait, yet an
ideal memorial of the person intended. (2) From the
favorite animals of great personages : if Osiris had a fa-
vorite bull^ he might be constantly attended by the ani-
mal ; whence, after his death, a bull might become his
representative. (3) If Osiris was the first person who
tamed and domesticated wild cattle, the bull was not
unjustly attributed to him : the same idea we know ap-
plies (to Isis or) to Ceres and her corn. (4) The quali-
ties of the mind were early expressed by reference to
animals, &c. — couragebya /ib/z, sagacity by an elephant :
and perhaps patient labour, and courageous fortitude,
combined with docility and benevolence, as being of
great use to mankind, were some of the qualities attri-
buted to Osiris when the bull was determined as his
symbol. (5) Particular exploits against wild animals,
or against persons or states symbolised by wild animals,
&c. might occasion a name ; and from a name, a
symbol to the party ; in this case it would be analogous
to certain of our own coats of arms. (6) Ensigns of
dignity, the crown, the sceptre, and afterwards rays,
the nimbus, &c. speak for themselves.

The particularities of the Egyptian style of Sculp-
ture, may be hinted at, under the articles conforma-
tion, or feature ; attitude, or posture ; and idea or ex-
pression. Art naturally imitates what objects are be-
fore it: if the usual figures of the natives of a country
be tall and slim, or short and squab, such will Art pro-
duce

HISTORY OF ART IN EGYPT. S9

duce. The natives of Egypt were not entirely remov
ed from somewhat of a Chinese figure, and such many
of their statues represent them. Some have thought
Aristole justifies the remark that the bone of their legs
turned outwards.

Their female figures though generally slight of shape
have very large breasts.

The Ethiopians, and perhaps natives of Upper Egypt
also (often spoken of under the name of Ethiopians) had
flat noses ; the Egyptians were altogether sun-burnt and
brown of colour.

The attitude of their figures is stiff and awkward j
often the feet parallel ; especially in sitting figures. In
standing figures, one foot is commonly advanced. In
their figures of men, the arms generally hang down on
the sides ; to which they also adhere ; consequently, so
far as depends on the arms, they are motionless. Har-
pocrates with his finger on his lips is an evident excep-
tion, yet even his arm adheres closely to his breast.
In their figures of women, only the right arm adheres
to the side, the left being folded on the bosom; they
are very thin waisted. Sometimes their attitudes were
crouching, or resting on the knees and heel ; a posi-
tion still retained in the east, and used by servants be-
fore their masters. Probably where this attitude oc-
curs it denotes a worshipper, or suppliant.

Their style of dravving has as few projections as pos-
sible; a smooth even line prevails uniformly ; the bones
and muscles are but slightly hinted, the nerves and veins
not at all. The knees, elbows, and neck, shew those
risings ; the spine is rarely visible ; not at all in figures
placed (as most of them were) against columns.

The heads of Egyptian figures have eyes descending
obliquely, scarcely ciunk at all into the head, but level

/ 2 with

60 A eONClSE HISTORY OF ART.

with the supertices of the facej the eye-brows, eve-,
lids, and form of the lips, are usually indicated by rmes
cut in the stone : the eye-brows rise at their cxt rem i tic:-
on the temples ; the cheek-bone is high, and strong ;
the chin meagre and short, rot forming a \vell-shi;ped
oval to the head : the' junction of the lips, instead of
descending somewhat at its external termination, rises;
the mouth is always shut ; the cars are placed remark-
ably high ; the hands are ordinary, the tect are flat, and
large, the toes flat witliout articulations, the nails are
denotcd by angular incisions in no degree rounded.

In their figures of certain animals, the Egyptians
adopted much freer principles, gliding outlines and
wmding sweeps; and the parts are well made out •
the reason seems to be, that religious veneration did not
equally include them as objects of concern, \vhcrea>
the human statues being usually representations of di-
vinities, or kings, or priests (their substitutes on cartii)
superstition once satisfied, there fixed its standard.
Plato says the Egyptian sculptures of his day dit-
fered nothing trom those made a thousand years betore ;
if this should be relied on, we mav, by means ot the
Egyptian statues remaining, give a very good guess at
the original productions of Art among them ; and per-
haps not among them only, as that period of tim,e car-
ries us back to a date when this degree of merit
seems what might be natural to the Art, as then prac-
tised in most nations.

It was not possible, in after times, when they re-
presented gods with the heads of hawks, or lions, or
cats, that elegance could ensue ; the composition
was ruined at once. Reason supposes that these wild
thoughts were adjuncts to the figure, which at first was
free jrom tiiem ; the taste that could adopt them, de-
serves not the name.

The

JilSTORV OF ART IN EGYPT. 61

Tiic f.pliinx was r» favourite subject in Egypt ; and
F.on:coft}iem arc well treated ; they have the head of
51 woman, the hinder parts of a lion. There arc also
men sphirxes, and other variations.

In regard to their draperies, most of tiieir men fi-
gures are naked, except a napkin about their loins, ar-
ranged in small folds, but none are ever quite naked.
'I heii women figures are covered with drapery, but it
iits so close to the bodv, as to be sensible only at its
edges, about the neck, and the legs; and, where fold^;
naturally must be,they are very liglitly indicated ; whence
at first si"-ht thev mav be th-ouirht naked, tliou2:h in-
tirely clothed. It is likely these dresses mean to re-
present extremely fine muslin; and 1 have sometimes
thought that muslin of this delicate texture was really
the famous fine linen of Egypt.

Their bas-reliefs arc nearly fiat; which Is one reason
why many of them are well preserved to this day.

It is to be observed, that many Greek masters hcive
occasionally imitated Egyptian figures ; that often, one
style is grafted on the other ; and that, though the
Egyptians tb.emselves never quitted their prescribed
mode, yet foreign countries, where the worship of their
frods prevailed, were not so scrupulous. Now it some-
times happens that as the most considerable remains of Art
(supposed Egyptian) are these imitations, and variation?
of ancient Egyptian productions, a talse idea is con-
ceived fro mi them, in relation to genuine works of that
country. Egypt itself affords a few temples only: —
Rome offers some truly ancient specimens ; but many
which are only Greco-Egyptian. Hieroglyphics are a
sure sign of antiquity ; most others are doubtful. Imi-
tations, however, being once fashionable at Rome, con-
tribute to convey a general, though not an accurate
knowledge of the taste they copied.

62 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART-

As to Egyptian painting, none remains that we know
of, except a few incrustations of colours on temples in
Upper Egypt ; these, beautiful and fresh as the first day
they were done, attest an excellence in their compo-
sition, which raises our admiration. Being painted on
relievos they have, no folds, or shades : some parts of
them are gilt. As to the figures given by Mr. Bruce
they are not particular, or correct enough, to furnish
a decision, even of what they represent : indeed the
difficulty of procuring correct copies is insuperable.

There are also a few imitations of their mode of
painting ditcovered at Herculanemn ; but as these are
comparatively modern, we cannot tell by them, what
judgment to form of the originals they imitate j noT
of their degree of imitation; whether they may justly
be esteemed copies conducted by competent masters,
cr mere memorunda, or done by description.

Some few engravings on precious stones remaiji, to
which may be applied the remarks made on their statues.

li may be strongly doubted whether Artists were in
any respectable esteem in Egypt, as no mention is made
of their names, or any notion of their stations hinted
rit, notwithstanding the admiration so otten bestowed
on the temples, palaces, &c. which the}'^ erected. A
casual hint has preserved the name of Memnon Syc-
NjTES, and of him only, if indeed it be not the name
of a statue, rather than an Artist.

Very little is knov^n respecting the condition of Art
in Egypt in ages succeeding the time of Sesostris :
the devastations of Nebuchadnessar and Cambyses,
deprived the country of its records. Herodotus says
but little on the subject ; and very few authentic glean-
ings of remote antiquity fell to the lot of Diodorus
SicuLus. But after the dispersion of Art and Artists
from Athens, by war and Demetrius, the Ptole-
mies

HISTORY OF ART IN EGYPT. 6S

MIES of Egypt gave great encouragement to skill and
ability ; I might add to patiencQ, also, since porphyry
especially, required no small portion of this quality to
complete it as a work of Art, and very considerable
works were about this time executed in basalt. As these
productions were altogether Grecian, and performed
by Greek artists, they can scarcely be directly referred
to the Arts of Egypt.

The successors of Ptolemy Euergetes, were mon-
sters : Art could not flourish under such tyrants, and
Thebes itself was almost utterly ruined under Ptolemy
Lathyrus ; as Alexandria had been by persecution and
banishment of its citizens, and the flight of artists, by
his father Physcon, ante A. D. 136. Arts and learnins:
therefore rather existed than flourished, down to the
days of the lascivious Cleopatra, and the enchanted
Antony. Afterwards, when Egypt became a Roman
province, the emperors deprived it of many of its noblest
ornaments, which they transferred to Rome j where,
under various fates, they have been hitherto preserved
for the inspection of the curious ; and this has been
a favourable shelter to them, else had they been also
destroyed by the same rude hands, as ruined Alexan-
dria, and by the same barbarity as used the books of
its library to light the fires of the baths, to the total ex-
tinction of the glory of Egypt.

PERSIA.

64 A CONCISE iirsroRY of art

PERSIA.

Persia had artists from the earliest ages i but time
has deprived us of their performances. Persepolis alone
offers any remains of their works in marble, and ot
ihcir edifices i but as these buildings are almost totally
destroyed, their figures, being bas-reliefs, are greatly
injured ; v/e can however discover the forms of their
dresses, and enough to obtain a general idea of the
objects of their worship.

The leading principles of their art are allied to those
of Egypt j but no scientific Artist has yet published
remarks on them ; — neither can we tell their date ; —
nor determ.ine whedier they exhibit the best merit of
their age : whether Art was then advancing, or declin-
ing, or at its height. Some Persian engraved precious
stones are extant. After the Grecian manners were
introduced among them, and after the establishment of
the Parthian kingdom, their works, especially their
medals, of which many remain, deviated from their
ancient taste to that of the Greeks: but being, no
doubt, conducted, and directed, if not executed, by
Greek Artists, we cannot justly estimate by them the
meiit of Persian Art.

niENIClA

HISTORY OF ART IN PHENICIA. 65

PHENICIA.

The Phenlcianshad the same principles of Art as the
Kgyptians, and Babylonians: but of these we can
only judge from what medals are comedown tons;
no figure that we can appropriate to the.nbeing '-mown.
Carthage, being the daughter of Tyre, no doubt re-
ceived its Art from thence ; and by means of the me-
dals of Carthage, we may estimate those ot Phenicia,
with little doubt, while the intercourse was frequent,
and the relation acknowlcdfjed.

But what if Tyre and Sidon, universally placed among
the most ancient, of cities, and universally acknow-
ledged most mercantile and opulent communities — what
if they also cultivated the Arts, as we know they did
letters ; what if they trafficked in, and exported, gold
and silver wares, ornamented with figures, or vases, em-
bellished in various manners ; or idols ready prepared
for newly erected" temples — in such case,, it would be
no wonder that Hiram king of 'lyre furnished such as-
sistance to Solomon when building his temple. — It is
at least evident, that the people who were the best cut-
ters of wood, may be thought able sculptors, that those
who built the best ships, must understand as well geo-
metry, as astronomy, metallurgy, the mechanic Arts,
and a variety of other knowledge — is it likely that
where riches, and knowledge of these arts abounded,
the Arts of Design should be omitted ? It may indeed •
be thought they only circulated the productions of
other countries : but it seems more probable, those who
could make their own Hercules, and chains to secure
him, could make other deities if a market was open for
them.

Vol. IV. K pari 2, JVDEA.

66 A CONCISE HISTORY OF 'ART.

JUDEA.

The Jews were by no means exalted as Artists : So-
lomon performed his works by the help of foreign ar-
tists ; and their national dread of idolatry discouraq;ed
the progress of Sculpture. What images of gods tuey
occasionally adopted, were imported from abroad, and
are usually denominated strange, or stranger-go s. \et
that tl>ey practiced ornaments of various kind;., appears
not only from the number of rings, bracelets, &c.
worn by them ; but may be further inferred from the
number of crqftsmeyi, (1,000 of them and smiths toge-
ther) cA/;2Zf//cr.v which Nebltchadnezzar carried to Ba-
bylon. The allusions in the Scriptures to various or-
namental parts of dress^to embroidery, to jewels, aid
to other circumstances, prove they had no small share
of ostentation j and though, it may be, that like the
present Turks, they represe]-ited no living animal, yet as
some few of tlieir medals exist, with the type of the
rod, and the vine, and the vase, it is not impossible
they might indulge also in other ornaments, which did
not require human or other figures.

It is w^rj credible, that after the times of David and
Sol'jmon, the golden calves of Bethel, &:c. /Vrt might
receive the patronage of individuals whose houses and
furniture, at least, would partake of the national taste,
to the time of the Babyh.Miish captivity ; from which
time to their subjection to the Romans, probably the
eastern taste prevailed j and afterwards the Greek.
Herod's temple was altogether Grecised.

ARABIA.

HISTORY OF ART IK ARABIA. 67

ARABIA.

As to the Arabs we know little about their attention
to Art ; and yet some very curious instances of Art re-
main among them: not forgetting the famous Caaba of
Mecca; and the black stone of VenuS;, and its cres-
cent.

The literature of the Arabs has been great ; when
it shall be better understood in Plurope, we may find
that this people have had their Art and their artists, and
that from veiy distant periods.

Arabia is a region of great extent : the pastoral life
is followed in many parts ; — where moving tent-towns
are in use, whatever ornaments or images Art may fur-
nish they must be small : but in some cities they may
be, and probably are, more considerable. Poetry has
been, and is, highly cultivated ; — and if at present Ma-
hometan superstition has forbidden representations by
images, it is because Mahomet found idols very nu-
merous and popular; and from the gross worship at-
tached to them, they became objects of his especial
prohibition^ and hatred.

JC 2 OF

68 A CO!:CISE HISTORY OF ART.

OF THE ARTS IN EUROPE.

If, as has been supposed by some learned men.
Ham was the same person as Cronus or Osiris, and
Isis was his wife, thero seems much probability that
several parts of Greece as well as Asia minor liad very
early intercourse with Egypt: but if, as Sir Isaac
Newton sup^^osed, by Osiris is meant Sesostris, and
by Sesostris, SmsHAc king of Egypt in the days of
Rekobokam king of Israel, ante A. D. J002, then tlie
antiquity of that deity is very much abated, unless in
this case, a revival and renewed application of those
original idolatrous rites be supposed, as now transferred
to tiie reigning king; which, from later instances of
similar vanity, is not incredible. If Osiris be placed
one generation lower, and so be the same with Miz-
RAiM, the various journeys he is said to have undertaken,
and the colonies he sent out from Egypt, to settle in
various parts, justify the inference oi this intercourse.

Not that Japhet and his posterity (who quitting Ba-
bylon has occupied most European countries) was now
excluded Irom them, but that, probably, many advan-
tageous spots, bays, harbours, &:c. were not by them
at first discovered, and after discovery, were not peo-
pled. Often also the inhabitants of newly erected
towns adjnittcd strangers into their communities 3 and
indeed were glad of the additional strength they derived
from'such association.

'"■"Jikii^SEs says. Gen. x. 13. ISIizraim begat I.udim,
{the' Liidi/esJ which seems to point pretty strongly at
the origin of the ancient kingdom of Lydia. lliat Miz-
RAiM night have a son whom he named Lucl, is not
impossible 3 but that the form of the word used, ex-
presses

filSrORY Of ART IN EUROPE. 69

presses a people, is certain ; and that this peopte de-
rived their origin from Mizraim, or Egypt. I>ydia
sent colonies into Italy.

Nevertheless, as tlie posterity of Japhet [lapctos
among tlie Creeks) pc-opled Europe, though we can-
not tell precisely the date of their quittirig Babylon,
except we refer it to the confusion of tongues, they na-
turally carried with them their share of the knowledge
of their native land; to this, when they came to the
.sea-coast, they added that of navigation ; and by this,
if they proceeded nortliward, crossing large rivers, or
if they proceeded southward, crossing the Arcliipelago,
they entered and populated Europe. ^Ve should do
wTong if we imagine any regular train of migration in
these instances : we should ratiier conceive, that after
variou: changes and removals, the colonists settled and
fixed their habitcitions as directed by circumstances.

l"ne most ancient moPiarchy of Greece whereof we
have any historic account, is that of Sicyon, on the
north-west side of the peninsula : this kingdom was
hrst called ilLgialea^ perhaps from its first king Al^gi-
ALEUs: whose reign is by xArchbishop Usher, fixed to
A. AI, 19] 5, about the middle of the third century
after the flood. It appears trom hence, that he was
cotemporary with Nim:s in Assyria, and Mizraim in
Egypt, and before the birth of Abraham about 70 or
80 years.

Arcadia and Argos were little later in time, if at all ■
but we are not to consider these settlements in theii
early state as either numerous or splendid ; thougl
termed kings, their leaders were perhaps by courtesy
complimented with the regal title, and little able to
cultivate even the earth extensively, much less the de-
corative talents of their subjects, or associates. For
as the number of their companion-subjects were rarely

very

70 ^ A CONCISE HISrOKY OF ART*

very considerable, or very wealthy, but rathi?r such
persons as sought to improve their circumstances, we
must suppose them first attentive to their support, be
fore thev could think of elegance.

It appears then that akhough Babylon furnished Eu-
rope with its first inhabitants, and that by means of
Asia, minor, and Lydia, Sec. they kept up some com-
munication with it, ^iiK, that after a while the power of
Egypt, and the ready passage thither by sea, superseded
the former connection, and strengthened tlie inter-
course between these countries. We may, therefore,
rather expect the learning of tlie Egyptians to be im-
ported inio Greece, than that ot Babylon, and rather
the customs ci\ ii and religious, the manners, the taste,
and the principles of Egypt, as distinct from, though
traditionally, and perhaps closely, allied to, the Babylo-
nish, than tliose of that intended center of mankind in
the west.

Egypt being the seat of a powerful manarchical go-
vernment, and great pojjulation, was ea-rly one oi the:
seats of Art, and capable of directing its efforts to very
considerable undertakings; was enriched by its traffic
witli other nations; was turnished with all desirable'ma-
terials for Art to work upon ^ and being very populous,
and plentifully supplied with the necessaries of life, its
inhabitants, arid especially its princes, had leisure; to cul-
tivate and study the principles of Art> and to unite
practice with tlieory. From the^ie causes becoming fa-
mous, foreigners from all parts resorted to Egypt;
pbiloso[iheis to study ethics, historians to procure ma-
tt riah ft;r history, and architects to inspect its buildings,,
and their decorations^^ in order to imitate them in their
viative countries.

luuropc was divided into numerous states, and pro-
vinces s and U recce especially, far from being united

under

HISTORY OF ART IN EUROPE. 71

Qixier one head, was subdivided into numerous com-
munities, often jealous of each other, and often at vari-
ance; nor till their powers were settled, could t'lat
emulation, altcrwards so impulsive, act with any effect,
if indeed in behalf of Art it did really exist. The
earliest settled cities were the forwardest in commerce :
hence Tyre supplied Greece with many commodities,
with manufactures, with letters, and with gods.

The more ancient we suppose the settlements and so-
ciety of Europe, the more tlieir state of knowledge
and of art, is imperfect; their ideas and style are so
much the nearer to that of simple nature, nor could the
advances made in Art among better informed people,
speedily reach them. In later times, after having at-
tained to somewhat of prosperity, and even of renown,
after being visited by loreigners for purposes of com-
merce, and perhaps being shewn by them productions
superior to their own, the principle of imitation would
exert itself, and latent genius would strike out novelty
and improvement. Emulation, the natural companion
of ingenuity, would prompt some to seek abroad that
information not to be acquired at home, and the lustory
of Dedalus is a striking illustration of this sentiment.
Dedalus is dated 50 or 60 years before the war of
Troy; and consequently must be placed according to
the date of that event, which like most other points of
chronology is variously assumed, not without plausibi-
lity, whether higher, or lower. He is said, in conjunc-
tion with his nephew Talus, to hav^e invented the saw,
the turning lathe, the wimble, the chip-axe, and other
instruments of carpentry ; but is especially noted
for having visited the labyrinth of Egvpt, in order
to build a similar palace for Minos, king of Crete; for
scpr.rating the legs of statues, and giving them an air
of life, and motion; and for the application of sails

72 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

to ships. Tho tlriii oF t-iis illustrious genius forms an
epoch in the history of Art. Pausanias says, that
some of his figures in wood remained to his time, and
that notwithstanding their gross workmanship, they had
somewhat noble, and even divine : that their work-
manship could not but be gross, we may easily infer
from the circumstances of their author ; no less than
iVom the relation of Socrates, who giving the opinion
of the Sculptors of his day, said, if Dedal us should
return to the earth, and perform works like those at-
tributed to him, he v/ouid be laughed at by his fellow
artists.

It is easy to conceive, that after any master had so
far unshackled his Art, improved its principles, and in-
creased its op|K-)rtunities, succeeding Artists would seek
and apply yet additional embellishments, and tread in
the steps of their illustrious pattern : their works also
would be more esteemed, more in request, and their
every povvcr be exerted to the utmost, to acquire or
maintain, tlieir reputation.

As we cannot accurately judge of die abilities of any
people merely from description of their works, we na-
turally pay most attention to those whose performances
are come down to us; and these 1 would slightly hint
at, as divided into the schools of Hetruria, of Greece,
and of Rome.

After the Egyptians, the Etruscans are the most an-
cient people, who by cultivating Art advanced it to a
certain degree of perfection ; and we are peculiarly in-
terested in their behalf, because, what seem to be some
(if their earliest specimens of Art have happily survived
the calamities of ages, and are now submitted to our
inspection.

Etruria was colonized partly from Ionia or lA,dia,
and partly from Greece : but these colonies peopled it,

HISTORY OF ART IN EUROPE. 73

at various periods, and under various circumstances.
The first colony was six hundred years before the latter,
and under the conduct of Tyrhenus ; whether the Pe-
lasoi who accompanied him were properly a Greek
pi^ople, or whether the Greeks of those days did not
call all adventurers by sea Felasgoi^ may be doubted : I
have some persuasion of the truth of the latter idea;
which, if just, then the Fdasgi who settled in Etruria,
mi^ijiit not be exclusively Greeks, from Arcadia and
Attica, but adventurers from Asia minor also, and con-
sequently no strangers to the Arts of Assyria, and Lydia.
•iIo\\ever that might be, they settled in the country
of (modern) Pisa, to which they gave the name Tyrhe-
nia: they were acquainted with sea-affairs; and tra-
versed the enterprize of the .\rgonauts ; whence we
may conclude their commerce, and their navy, to have
been v/hat in those days was tliought respectable.

A second considerable colony re-inforced the former
about 300 years before Herodotus; and now they
spread throughout Italy, further extended their com-
merce, and formed alliances with the Phenicians, those
universal traffickers.

The Abbe Winckelman is of opinion, that the
Etruscan works remaining, are manliest proofs that
these latter colonies introduced into Etruria as well let-
ters as Arts : which opinion is supported by their my-
thology, and the events they represent. But it is, also,
every way possible they might have received instruction
respecting these matters from Phenicia, if not from
Egypt; and no reason occurs why they should not
havS'been (like Sicily and Sardinia) included among
the nations visited by those who were every where dis-
persed under numerous leaders in the days of Cadmus,
(or of Joshua) which supposition does not deny their
principal connection to have been usually with Greece ;

Vol. IV. L part 2 to

74 A CONCISE HISrORV OP ART.

to which the forms of tVicir letters agree. It appears,
however, th.it after the Trojan war, while CJreece was
t -."nultu.ited by civil dissentians, Erraria enjoyed a long
peace ; and as peace is the most benevolent friend of
Art, especially when supported by comm^^rce, Art
flourished here, under a government seemingly popular.

The Mtruscan style attained considerable correctness
of Design, and proportion; was expressive, bold, and
wclj pre nounced ; but d .hcient in delicacy, and grace.
Soitness was by no means its cha'racter ; but in gene-
ral, a suddenness of molion, and want of sweetness in
its outlines; whose too anguhir turns produced a stlfi-
iiess, a harshness, not to be expected from the merit
of many ot the parts, or the general composition of the
whole.

Much of what has been said of the features, and of-
tcr -n the attitudes, as treated by the F'gyptians, ap-
plies to the Etruscans: especially in their moie ancient
performances: their lat- •' works are perhaps scaiccly to
be distinguished from the bett Greek productions.
A^ter they were conquered by the Romans, they ceased
to improve ; and were too mudi intermingled with
their masters, to be distinguislicd as a separate school
of Art, but long before this they had furni^icd assist-
ance in art and artists, to that, afterwards, emporium
of the world.

As to those called Etruscan \''as<"s, of wliich nume-
rous specimens have come down to us, tl^ey are evident
proofs of excellence in Art : their torms and compo-
sitions, their or;.aments, especially the figures, and their
variety in shape, and in size i^some of them being v%ry
large) demonstrate the progressive improvements ot
a long course of years. I'he general likeness ot their
style, and their numbers, manifest also the existence ot
a sclw>ol 01 Art, which conducted its works upon prin-
ciples i

HISTORY OF ART IN EUROPE. 75

ciples ; and as the iirtists seem to have been nu'nerous,
t (Cir profession seems also to have been ia esteem.
Ldtc antiquarians have endeas'oared to deprive the
Etruscans of the merit of these performances, and ro
trar>sfer it to the Greeks: though 1 do not ttiink it
originally of Etruria, yet as it mi j;.at be imported from
elsewhere than Greece, and as it is pretty closely allied
to the style of Egypt, and of Asia minor (so far as
we can trace it) though greatly improved, I rather think
the Lydian parents of the Etruscan colonies may claim
this style as their offsprini^. But if it be thought to
have been equally cultivated int'iemore southern parts
of Italy (where specimens are fi^equently round) I see
no reason for denying it; but I do not find sufficient
authority to determine, that it is solely or principally
Greek, the figures, the dresses, and the ornaments of
many vases seem considerably allied to those of India :
1 believe the fact to be, thr.t many such things were
common, by importation or otherwise, to sundry na-
tions, around the borders of Asia. Many of these sub-
jects remind us of the refinements and riches of the
court of Crg?.sus.

L2 GREECE,

76 A CONCISE HISTORY OT ART.

GREFXE.

Under a general idea, the history of the Arts iw
Greece may be divided into four periods. 1 . That of
improvement, from Dedalus to Phidias; 2. That
of excellence, from Phidias to I^ysippus and x\pel-
LES. 3. That of mediocrity, which gradually issued in
decay. 4. That which tliey still cultivated under the
Romans.

The most ancient instances of Art, we can quote,
are medals, whose composition and workmanship may
impart some leading ideas, though not an accurate
estimate, of the state of Art in their times ; these be-
ing of almost all cities of Greece, of Italy, and ot Sicily,
and agreeing for the most part with relations of au-
thors, they contribute essentially to direct our judg-
ment on the skill of their authors, and the taste of their
contemporaries.

The first style of Art in Greece was properly Egypto-
Grecian, hard and stiff, but gradually acquired dig-
nity ; it wanted freedom, but it studied force ; it was
not equal to graceful distinction ot character, but it
studied a noble selection of parts; and by rejecting the
minuticc of nature, it advanced toward an ideal excel-
lence, whose character was firm and masculine. This
seems to have been the character adopted by Dedalus,
and this was long cultivated after his time.

From Phidias to Apelles Art made great progress,
in perfectioning those principles which it had adopted ;
it dropped somewhat of grossncss yet remaining, it
became more polished, more accurate, and refined,
and, as Painting advanced greatly during this interval,
its p/rogress seems to have had some happy effect on
Sculpture also.

(jliding

HISTORY OF ART IN GREECE. 7T

Gliding and elegant lines, uniting beauty with grace,
succeeded the union of beauty with grandure j softness
associated with correctness; or perhaps, sometimes,
claimed the first attention. As violent action had given
place to vigorous expression, so vigorous expression
gave place to smooth, gliding, attitudes and forms,
and these were esteemed according: to their w;race.

Grace was of several kinds ; severe and sublime;
lovely and attractive; wanton and youthful.

After the perfection ot Art, succeeded a certain
suspence, which, iiot projectmg improvement, was
content to retrace the merit of former masters rather
in former works, than in present performances : hence
arose mediocrity, and, this once established, the Arts
declined, especially when untoward events intervened
and distressed them.

These ideas may be justified, by reference to sundry
statues yet remaining ; but we cannot determine in
respect of pictures, but by referring to the accounts of
ih( he who formerly insj)ected them. We have no per-
ftjrmancesof the great masters: it in Ilercuianeumhave
been preserved some copies of them, we cannot tell
what might be the abilities of the copyist; but if they
were rather imitations made by memory, or done in
haste, ot which most have the appearance, or done at
a low price, to gratify individuals ; or if they were
copies of copies, then, it is clear, we must not decide
on the merit ot the great masters by what these offer.
Nevertheless some of these have much freedom of
handling, a good style of design, grace, and beauty;
but they are not altogether correct, peither are they
well composed or grouped.

7» A COKCISE HISTORY OF ART.

'Die most celebrated schools of Greece, were those
ofEciNA, ofSicvoN, and of CoRiNiH.

The school of Kgina, may be estimated almost
equal to the age of Dld.lus. It is certain from tiie
number of statues attributed to artists of Egina, that
the arts were early cultivated there. The natives were
famous navigators, and engaged ia commerce; cir-
cumstances favo-iirable to Art ; and their vases, and
other productions were very generally esteemed, Egi-
na was enriched by the spoils ot the Persians after tl>e
defeat of Xerxes : but was afterwards ruined by the
Athenians, for having taken part with the Lacedemo-
nians.

Sic YON was among the earliest kingdoms of Greece,
at first called Eg i a lea ; its schoolof Art lasted long, be-
ing upheld in reputation by a succession of tanious art-
ists. This city contained a numerous collection of ca-
pital performances. Eupompus, Pamphjlus, Poly-
CLEius, Lysippus, Apelles, completed the glory of
this school: whose repute was great in the time of
ProLEMY Philadelphus of Egypt, who in a most
pompous procession exhibited a number of pictures all
of this school. The city of Sicyon was robbed of its
ancient productions by AIarcus Scaur us, under pre-
tence of a debt due to Rome. Cir. ante A. 1). 133.

CoRiNiH, from the advantages of its situation, rose
early to importance and opulence .; and became one of
the most powerful cities of (jreece. It is said, that
many improvements in Art were owing to its painters;
and it is certain the city was highly ornamented by
buiklijigs, statues, and pictures, till destroyed by Mum-
Mius, ante A. D. 144, Olymp. 158, 95a years after its
building. It lay neglected, till revived again by Ju-
lius C/iiSAR, after 100 years of desolation, ante A. D.
44, but though it speedily tlouribhcd greatly, yet its

pre-

HISTORY OF ART IN GREECE. 79

pre-eminence was now departed. It has the repute
of having sent Cleophantus into Italy to Tarquin
the elder, who taught the Romans the Greek methods
of painting : cir. ante A. D. 600.

'Ihe victory of Marathon raised Athens from a
state of no great importance, to signal splendor-, this
city became tiij nurse of Arts and letters, and espe-
cially in the time of Pericles, ante A. D. 550. was or-
namented by numerous public buildings, whose re-
mains at this day testify the abilities of the Artists, and
the munificence, as well as the taste, of the citizens.

Si-/ RTA was rival of Alliens, as well in arts as arms;
and at length almost its destroyer, under Lysander;
though it recovered from this calamity, yet it did not
attain to equal influence in Ureece.

PfiRiCLiS governed Athens forty years ; and during
bis administration, Phtdias was employed in embellish-
ing the city ; at the same time, other parts of Greece
were emulous of distinction, and engag-ed in similar
undertakings, so thai this is the brightest period of Art
in Greece, War interrupted this period: the history of
the next thiity years is merely an account of battles,
and though intervals of peace succeeded, yet they were
too short for Art to flourish in as it had done. Athens
at length coalesced with Philip of Macedon, who
was not without magnificence and munificence. Phi-
lip of Macedon, and his son Alexander, were suc-
cessively the leaders of Greece; being warriors. Art had
not much encouragement (apparently) to expect from
them, nevertheless, contrary to what might have been
tliought, it met v^ ith cousiaer^blc protection: and in-
deed in the time of Alexander Art has some excel'
lencies to boast of, wherein former times were defi-
cient. Elegance, grace, and delicacy, were now fa-
vourite studies : and, patronized by the prince, the Arts

to ' A CON'CISF. HISTORY OF ART.

in these new branches, attained a perfection hitherto
unknown; the Greeks abandoned tlicmselvcs to plea-
sure, even Sparta relaxed its austerity, festivals and
games abounded, and tlic Asiatic modts of laxury al*
most universally prevailed ; the conquest of Persia p-ave
new Hte to the cities of Greece, and was an event too
considerable to be passed over without general celebra-
tion, to adorn which, the Arts contributed largely.

The death of y\LEXAMDER, and the disturbances at-
tending the divisioi'i of his empire, naturally engrossed
the public attention ; nor till these important matters
were settled, could the Arts expect the honours they
might justly claim ; and v. hen restored to public respect,
they )ielded rather ornament than merit, rather flowers
than fruits; not long a'ter which Art forsook Athens,
for Asia and Egypt.

After the Achaian league liad occasioned a war, we
find the barbarity of the combatants raging against the
monuments of Art, burning the temples and destroy-
ing tlieir statues, a certain token that now genius and
taste were extinct. The istae of this confederacy was
tiie intervention of the Romans; who at length under
Lucius TsIummius destroyed Corinth, and reduced
Greece to the form of a province. The capital works
of Corint'n were transported by Mummius to Rome>
and used in his triumph : but some of the ancient sta-
tues of v\ ood remained buried under its ruins, till re-
stored by JuLiDS Cu5:sAR. The other cities of Greece
shared the same fate as Corinth ; and so rare were ca-
pable artists afterwards in Greece, tliat to complete thp
temple of Jupiter Olympus, Antiochus Ei'iphanf.s
sent for Co'isu HIT-, an architect, Irom Rome.

THE

HISTORY OF ART IN ROME. 81

THE ARTS IN ROME.

The Roman School had Jittic to boast of in relation
lo originality as artists, as a state founded on Avar, and
studious principally of military discipline ; when pub-
lic buildings were necessary, Rome had recourse to
foreigners; first to the Etruscans, afterwards to the
(jreeks. It must be owned, that what remain of the
ancient Roman works, have at least the merit of soli-
dity to recommend rhem ; and seem by their construc-
tion, as if designed to perpetuate the immortal city.
Of their early productions, professedly elegant, we know
little ; but after tlie Grecian style was imported, and
especially atlcr the desolation of the Greek cities, the
Roman buildings became immensely sumptuous ; and,
requiring correspondent ornaments, statues, busts, and
pictures, were lavished upon them. The number of
these subjects reported by ancient authors is scarcely
credible, did we not know that thousands have been re-
covered, and that when opulent individuals vie with
each other in magnificence, luxury will procure objects
of ostentation, far beyond the requisitions of just taste,
and real embellishment.

Sylla destroyed the Arts in Greece ante A.D.
cir. 85, but encouraged them in Rome ; and C^sar,
lollowing his example, was even prodigal in collecting
works, as well as in displaving magnificence. It should
->eem, nevertheless, that the i^omans themselves produc-
ed few artibts of considerable en-iinence, and that most
of their caplt.il undertakings were tlie productions of
Greek refugees j who, transmitting their instructions to
others in less respectable stations of life, and subject to
the capricious tastes of arbitrary masters, to the ener-
vated conceptions and freaks of coniipted manners,Iost

Vol. IV/ Mparl 2. that

82 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

that genuine ardor and noble emulation, without which
the maintenance ofArt is impossible. Moreover, as many
of the captives imported into Rome became slaves, and
probably, of these, other slaves were commanded to
learn, the Arts gradually sunk under the weight of such
fetters, and rather referred for merit to remains of for-
mer ages, than endeavoured to equal or surpass them.
This repr. sentation is but too true : yet we Hnd very
honourable exceptions, andhave sundry excellent artists
on record, from the time of Augustus to Trajax,
A.D. 98, who notwithstanding the decay ot taste, and
the substitution of atTccted beauty for genuine graces^
of pomp for accuracy, and ot profusion for simplicity,
yet produced master-pieces not unworthy of their no-
blest predecessors, Trajan revived Art all in his
power 3 and the pillar erected to his honor proves his
endeavours to have been successfuL Adrian continued
the same encouragement ; and even extended the stu-
dies of Art J which prolonged the existence of these yet
declining professions, to the time of Constantine ;
when the seat of empire being removed from Rome,
A.D. 329 or 330, a considerable part of what merit
then existed passed to Constantinople, and though de-
graded and overwhelmed, there, if any where, it con-
tinued to exist : while Rome and Italy v/ere ravaged by
the barbarous nations of the north, their noblest monu-
ments destroyed, temples, arches, statues,pictures,in one
general ruin confoinidedjand desolated with truly gothic
fury. What time had spared, brutal force destroyed ; and
what had for ages been beheld with veneration and re-
spect,these invaders trcatedwithoutregard,and destroyed
without mercy; nor, tiil the revival of letters, and the
dispersion of learned men (according to the learning
of their age) occasioned by the taking of Constantinople
by the Turks, A. D. 1453, did the Arts revisit Italy.

A sue.

A SUCCINCT

CHRONOLOGY OF ART>

THE CREATION TO THE TABERNACLE.

A.M. Ante A. C.

1. THE CREATION. 4004.

In tlic eighth generation from Adam, Moses
mentions,

Jabal as the father of Husbandry;

JuBAL as the father of Music;

Tubal- CAIN as the father of Aletallurgy ;

Naamah the inventress of Weaving and Spin-
ning, as the Rabbins sa}' — but ^^Ioses is silent on
this subject. AH these in the posterity of Cain.

1656. THE FLOOD. 2348.

To this period relates whatever may be said on
the construction of the ai'k : which may justly be
esteemed the first ship.

1747. Babel supposed to be begun, by those chrono- 2257.
logers who imagine the name Peleg (division) com-
memorates the commencement of the confusion, (and
the division among mankind ten years later) but
those who imagine this name refers to a division of
the earth by Noah among his sons, place Babel
Jater about 30 years.

1757. Pde§^ i. e. division.

M2 Celestial

S* A CONCISE HIbTORY OF ART.

A. ^f. Ante A. C.

1771. Celestial observations made at Babylon ; as ap- 2233.
pears from the accounts transmitted by Calistlifnes
in the time of Alexander's conquest of that city
(A. M. 3674) who says they had observations 1903
years old ; but as we are ii^norant on what prin-
ciples the computation was made, and if, as is most
probable, it included only 3(^0 davs to the vcar,
the difference will justify tiie lo\\er date for l\n'.
erection of Babel, A.M. 177S, at which period
the structure was doubtless sulHcicntly finished i'ar
such purposes ; though not equal to the lirst in-
tention of its builders. N. B. The same dilVerencc
in the length of the year applies to the whole of
this part of the Chron<3logy.

1830. Hebron built.

1837. Zoan built.
Sidon built.

1900. Bklus II. /. f. Cash, reigns at Babylon. 2101-.

1915. Sicyon founded by ii'irw/t'i^.s. 2089.

\99o. Nineveh built: probably by Nunrocl, \^ Nhnrod 20 o9.
and iV/»?/^ be the same ])erson. Gen. x. ] 1. " Out
of that land he went forth into AssAria and budded
Nineveh, even the streets of the city" — perhaps
rather *' even the city with streets," or regular
places and distributions. Query, W^as this the fust
city, built on a rcguhir plan ? if so, the circum-
stance is very agreeable to the character of Nim-
rod, who first seems to have settled regular pro-
vincial govern me 11 r.

2008. ABtAMAM born. 199u.

2083. — Flies from idolatry now spreading in Clial-
dea : whether memorial images were in use, is un-
know n ; hut probable.

Somewhat previous to this date a colony led into
Itidy by 7\j)'scmiSy or Tjjrhnms^ — into K.truria.

Crcs builds Gnossos, and a temple to Cybele, in
Crete. Qu(m'v, Whether this temple was an
edifice, or only an enclosure containing an altar,
and surrounded by groves?

Abimelech

CHRONOLOGY OF ART. 83

A.M. Ante A. C.

2106. Abimelech gives a veil to Sarah. 1898.

ABRAHAiM weighs silver to purchase the cave of 1859.
Macpelah. N. B. No money coined yet.
2\13. Rebekah receives valuable jewels, as a nuptial 1856.
present : a golden ear-ring, two golden bracelets
for her wrists — also jewels of gold,— jewels of sil-
ver— raiment — precious things. Gen. xxiv.
The kingdom of Argos founded by Inachus.
2163. Esau and Jacob born. 1837.

The deluge of Ogj/ges, which wastes Attica ; 1764.
vei-y memorable because the country was ruined for
200 years. 7'o this deluge the poets chiefly refer.

Jacob flying to ^Mesopotamia consecrates a stone 1760.
pillar at Bethel.

Jacob returning, Rachel steals her father's 1739.
ti-raphim : i. e. images now perhaps, though ra-
rities, yet spreading. Jacob and Laban's heap
of Avitness.

Jacob receives from his houshold the strange 1732.
gods that were in their hands, and the car-rings
Avhich were in their ears : images becoming more
numerous.
2276. Joseph sold. N. B. His coat of many colours. 17:^9.

2290. Receives Pharaoh's signet from his

wrist —also his second chariot, as a mark of honor.
Egyptian Arts, magicians, and wisemen, men-
tioned. Gen. xli. 8.
2298. Joseph's silver cup — Avherein he drank — ^here- 1707.
by he divined — or made trial. He sends waggons,
or carriages, for Jacob. The priest-princes of
Egypt retain their lands and power : after the
people had parted with their money. Query was
the money coined ?
2316. Jacob dies, is embalmed, i. e. in the manner 1689.
of a mummy.

Joseph dies. 1635.

2443. Moses born. 1574.

2443. Athens founded by Cecrops.

The Trojan kingdom founded by Scamander. 1546.

86 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

A. M. Ante A. C.

If Moses was, as is frciiornlly thoiurlit, the author 1 530.
of the book o(Job, that ])atnai\:h mav be placed
earlier about 100 years: about thiti tiuu: the |i6em
is written.
2513. The Exodus. The 7'abernaci.e. [4'JIj

The particulars of this structure, and its dc-
peudaucles, are so fully relattui in the book of
Exodus, tliat notiiing need be added here.

FROM THE MOSAIC TAIU!:RNACLE
TO ALEXANDER THE GREAT.

The Tabernacle.
2.513. Aaron makes the golden ca'i". 1491.

Siirincs, or taiisinans, of other deities, were fre-
quent, if not popular, aniouLr the people.

'I'he worship of in)ag;:s, with symbols expressive
of their attributes as deities, altogether common in
the iatid of Canaan, as ap|>cars from the great va-
rietv of names denoting such objects, as being
^worshipped in the towns of that coimtrj.

As the Pj'ramltls cannot he accurately dated,
yet are of very remote antiquity, they may be
mentioned here ; it i^ usually said the largeiit is the
oidest, but this being contrary to gencrdl rules,
in Jny opinion, niav be doubted.
215 1. Sesostris in Egvpt, cut many canals; placed 1475.
before the temple of V'ulcaTi marble statues, 30
cubits high, of himself and his qneen ; also four
others of his children, 20 cubits hig-h.
247 5. Danaiis, the ^'gy ptian, being expelled Egypt, 145^'.
bcUlcs in Greece about this time.

Phenix — Cadmus — both from Egypt, reign in
*^'.' Byriu ; ovev 'I'y re and Sidon ; by the e, were letters
&c. transmitted into Europe, not that (as I sup-
pose) Europe was ahsolutel}' destitute of the art of
'\\ riting, but that it was more dillicult and more
rare; being iilso less favored by public institutions,
such astei«pl€s,coeH'ts of justice, laws, treaties, &c.

tliaij

CHRONOLOGY OF ART. 87

A.M. -Ante A. C.

than afterwards. At leapf, the art Mas revived
and propagated bv ('ndmus, and his followers.

AcHAN pnrloins " a goodly Babylonish gar- 1451.
inent."
2449. Joshua erects tho. memorial stone. The tribes 1426.
bevond Jordan had erected the altar of witness.
N. B. In after times Samuel erected the Eben-
ezer : this mode of communicating histories of
events yet remaining in n.se.

MicAK loses his gods: they were made by *' a 1413.
founder" — whence the art seems to have been at
this time, studied at least, if not a distinct pro-
fession. N. B. 'J lie date of this story is dubious,
4iud liot accordingly to its place in the scriptures.

Minos in Crete. 1406.

lu the song of Deeorait, about this time, 1285.
S'isera^s mother is represented as expecting a prey
" of divers colors, a prey of divers colors of
needlework, of divers colors of needlework ou
both s'iles" — the art of embroidery seems now to
have bi-en highly valued.

Orpheus the poet. 1284.

Tvre built. . 1252.

Ded.st.us : this artist merits a history by him-
bclf. i livire is much difficulty in determiiiin<'- his
(late. Perhaps there were two of the name.

Gideon surnamed Jerubaal : on occasion of his 1 243.
destroying the altar of Baal ; and the grove (or
Ashvt'h) peri)aps an image of the jnoon, as the for-
mer of the sim. 'I'he quantity of golden orna-
ments (Jiidges viii. '^6) received by Iiim, shews
then* general ns«i.
•^TIo. Thtseus ; famous for his exploits as a hero : I 235.
having truvelled much, and seen foreign cities, at
his return to Atiicns, he adorns thu^ city, and re-
gulates its worsliip, Lc. instituting additional
rites, &c.

Troy taken. 1 184.

Sampson

88 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

A. M. Ante A. C.

Sampson overturns the temple of the PIiihs-lU7.
tines, which was sufficiently large to accommodate
on its roof 3000 persons, yet which rested on two
pillars: the construction of this e iifice was un-
questionably curious. Probably it was not of
stone but of wood. This fact is supported by ac-
counts of the prodigious theatres, 6cc. of wood in
after-ages among the Romans.
2679. Saul — cultivated decorative Arts. — " clothed
the daughters of Israel in scarlet, with delights,
and put ornaments of gold on their apparel." Pro-
bably he introduced the 'JVrian dye : and pro-
moted riches by commerce.

David — assisted to build his house by the ar- 1044-.
tists of 7//rc7;;?, king of TyiT; — whence it should
seem that the Israelites Avere not competent to
capital works, 'lyre was at this time in its glory.
David begins and promotes a traffic which after-
wards became immense.
S930. Solomon jjromotes the study and practic^e of 1012.
architecture; adopting a very magnificent, and
expensive style, as well in his own places as in
the temple of God — in all this he is assisted by Jli-
rani king of "r3're, who furnished him both with
timber and carvers. The name oiliirom^ov lliironiy
occurs as a chief overseer — he was son of a wo-
man of Napthali by aTyrian father. 1 Kings vii. 14.

Solomon's promoting of commerce is remark-
able.
3100. HoMi-R and Hesiod.

Rome buiU. IS'.i.

3078. Sardanapalus, being besieged in Nineveh, 747.
consumes himself and his riches by lire.

Arbaces and Belesis having overthrown the
ancient Assyrian empire, begin two empires at Ni-
neveh and IJabylon.

Ahaz admires an altar he saw at Damascus, and 74 1 .
imitates it.
3210. Syracuse built.

IIezekiah —

CHRONOLOGY OF ART. 89

A.'M. Ante A. C.

Hezekiaii — The retrogradation of the shadow 726.
on the sun-dial, and tlic embassy from Babylon in
consequence, are very remarkable circum:>tances ;
showing- that such means of measuring time were in
use: ulso, that the Babylonians continued very atten-
tive to the astronomical science.

Sennacharib invades I'gypt, destroj's Thebes, 710.
and harasses th " country.

Psaisimitichus king of Egypt attempts to unite 617.
the Nile and the Red Sea by a canal, but after con-
suming 120,000 men is obliged to desist. Sends a
fleet round Africa.

Tarquin at Rome builds a circus and introduces
ornaments of art.

Nineveh destroyed : though it somewhat reco- 612.
vered from this calamity, yet it never became the
seat of govenmient again. Its present rums are of
great extent: at, or near, Mosul, on the west side of
the river Tigris.

Epivienides builds the altar to the unknown god
at Athens.

The eclipse foretold by Thales the Milesian,
happened Sept. 20, ante A.I). 601. It suspended
a battle, and made a peace.
3260. Solomon's temple plundered. One thousand 598.
craftsmen and smiths (or workers in ornamental
decorations) carried captive from Judea: a con-
siderable number, and shews the general taste for
their works.

EzEKiEL mentions portraits, chap. v. 593.

Solomon's temple burnt. 588.

Nebuchadnezzar's golden image.
3266. Tyre taken by Nebuchadnezzar and de- 573.
stroyed, but the inhabitants pad removed to an
island about half a mile distant from the shore,
■which afterwards. became, also, a famous lyre.

Nebuchadnezzar ravages i gypt, destroys and
spoils the whole country, and loads his army with
plunder.
Vol. IV. N. part 2 Nebuchad-

90 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

A. AI. Aiitt .\. C.

Nebuchadnezzar applies himself to adorn and
augment Babylon. The most remarkable works in ^
this city, were: (l) The walls, 87 feet thick, 350
feet high, 60 miles in length. (2) The temple of
Bel us i. e. the tower of Habel, which he sur-
rounded by area?, porticos, &c. (:j) The harig-
ing gardens. (4) 'ilie banks and quays of the
river. (5) The lake and canals, &:c. for draining
the waters.

NiTOCRis finished the works begun by Nebu-
chadnezzar; and added others which were very
wreat undertakings.

The Hrst cometly acted at Athens on amovcabh' .561.
scaffold.
3400. CrOisus king at Sard is ; the riches of this king 56 1,
are proverbial, his magnificence, his gifts to the va-
rious temples of Greece, &c. manifest the style of
Art in his court to have been highly cultiA'ated ; and
that artists found much emplo3-ment, recompcnce,
and esteem.

Crcesus (after crossing tlie Halys on an arti- 548.
ficial bridge) defeated by Cyrus.
3419. CvRUs takes Babylon. 5id.

Darius coins tiie first golden darks: which im-
plies an attention to the art of coinage.

Second temple budding 536 to 515.

1 he first tragedy acted at Athens on a waggon
by Thespis.

Cambysis ravages Egypt; destroys the gods, 526.
tcn)ples, priests, books, ^c.

A public library founded at Athens. 5 1 3.

Darius invades India. 506.

Sardis burnt by the Greeks, Part of the houses 504.
were of canes: the others oidy co\cred: in which
this city, so famous for riches, seems to have agreed
w ith much of the Asiatic (Indian) manner of build •
ing.
34.59. Battle of Marathon. The Persians defeated by 490.
the Greeks, principally the Athenians; -who ac-
quired

CHRONOLOGY OF ART. 91

^•^^- Ante A.C.

quired much riches by the spoi'; and thereby be-
came patterns to the rest of Greece in arts and ele-
gance.

Xerxls destroys the temples of Greece, ex- 478.
cept that of Diana at Fphesus. Destrovs also
the temple of Belu.s at Babylon : and con^ erts their
treasures to his own use. The Greeks suffer the
temples to remain in ruins the more effectually to
render odious the memory of the Persians; till
after thebattle of Salamis ; when the teinpies ar-d
towns began to appear with fre?h splendour, and
the arts of architectureand iculpture especially, find
"•reat encouragement.
3479. The Arts encouraged in Sicily.

Pericles governed Athens forty years: this 431.
was the most illustrious time of Art ia Greece,
especially the latter 20 years. Whatever could con-
tribute to the ornament of his cit}', or could be exe-
cuted b}' the ablest artists, this great man accom-
plished : and some of his productions remain to this
day for our admiration.

During the war which preceded the death of Pe-
ricles, Art was cultivated and respected ; and
maintained at the Isthmain, and Olympic games,
every four }-ears, a kind of exhibition of its chief
performance. Phidias was the principal artist em-
ployed by Pericles : his chief disciples were ^l-
camcnes and Agoracritos. Theatrical representa-
tions were popular, and celebrated with great at-
tention. The sacred mysteries also were exhibited
with great pomp, decoration, and expence.

The Abbe Winkelman observes with justice,
that this was a period Avhen the productions of
ancient Art were less e:^teemed than those of present
Art: whereas, af«er this time, however the Arts
might flourish they constantly looked back tg excel-
lencies superior to their own.

The war of Peloponessus, which ended 404 years

aate A. D. was fatal to Athens: as the jealousy of

N 2 Sparta

92 CONCISE HISTORV OF ART.

A.M. Ante A.C.

Sparta despoiled, thougli it did not destroy, that
city. Thrasybulus however repaired the da-
mages ; but the allies of Athens sent the artisans to
execute mucii of the woi ks.

Epaminondas cir. 3S0 years, ante A.D. raised
Thebes to the pre-eminence among the Grecian
states ; and peace succeeded : but it was not of long-
duration.

Phidovus the abtrnnomer brings the sphere, &c. 367.
from £gypt into Greece.

Artaxek-xes rifles Kgypt of its treasures, ]i-3G2.
braries, &c.

The bnttle of Mantinca produced p ace again 3G2.
in Greece; and xvith it favourable times for Art.
PravileleSy Euphranoi\, Zeuxis^ ParhasiuSy were
the glorv of their times. Painphilus of Sicyon
Avas master of Apelks: and Apcllcs^ under the
patronage of Alexander, became the prince of
painters.

Philip of Macedon, become the head of the
Grecian states, though he cultivated the Arts, yet
was addicted to war: his son Alexander suc-
ceeded to his station, greatly encouraged Arts,
and learning, lie himself practised design, and
conmianded his officers to icarn the Art ; he pa-
tronized ApelU'S the painter in a verv remarkable
manner, Lijdppus the sculptor, and Pyrgotdts the
engraver of gems: these alone had the privilege of
representing Alexander: but that they actually
monopolized his j)ortraitis not Jikely.

Alexander, born ante A. D. 3o6. The
Temjile of Diana at Kphesus burnt the same night.

Destroys 'I'liebes, only sparing the house of Pin- 335.
dar the poet.

'i'akeb Tvre and conoucrs l\gypt. 332.

Builds Alex.iiidiia in Kgypt; which he designed
to render the centre of commerce to the. -estern
world ; wherein he p.irtly succeoik d. The architect
was Dinocralesy who rebuilt the temple of Diana.

Alexander.

CHRONOLOGY OF ART. 9$

A.M. Ante A. C,

Alexander takes Babylon. Dies. 323.

It is evident, that historians liave been more occu-
pied in relating the politicid events of the times, bat-
tles, sieges, and revolntions, than in attending to the
progress oi' Arts: we are therefore obliged to se-
lect detached hints from various accounts, and to
infer from the state of one science what was like-
ly to be the repute of its fellows. We may cha-
racterize This interval by remarking that

The Asiatic empires seem to have maintained
their pomp and magnificence in a higli degree, and
for a long time, but we are unable to affirm that
their taste was exquisite, or their principles cor-
rect,

Egypt seems to have suffered prodigiously under
successive ravages ; but it must have been im-
mensely rich, or immensely commercial, to admit
these ravages so repeatedly. I'hat the Arts suffered
by them is notorious: but perhaps their losses were
more easily repaired than those of learning and letters.

Greece advanced to perfection by a combina-
tion of talents, and of favour, not always the lot
of artists.

Rome thought of war only ; v.'ien it wanted Art
it borrrowed from its neighbours ; usually from the
Etruscans.

It would be very easy to swell this list with names
of artists, and titles of their v. orks, but as no ideas
of their merits could thereliy be communicated, it
seems beter to recoilect the general taste for in-
creasing statues, pictures, gems, seals, &c. toge-
ther \v\fh their rapid progress in merit, and to infer
their value from the very great sums paid for their
puiohasc , which, indeed, seems in sundry instances,
very extraordinary.

FROM

94 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

FROM ALEXANDER TO AUGUSTUS.

A.M. Ante A.C

The death of Alexander whs succeeded by re-323.
volts and bloody wars; and his kinj^dom was di-
vided into four. Greece suflTercd; and the Arts
suflered with her. The Atiienians took up arms,
but were defeated at length. Cassander gwin^thcm
for governor Demetrius Phakreus : he became so
popular, that in the space of one year, onciumdred
and sixty statues of bronze (iiouTC equestrian) were
erected to his honour: but when Cassamlcr was
vanquished by Demetrius Poliorcetes^ hardly had
Demetrius quitted Athens, ere the people demolisii-
ed every statue they had erected ; and even erased
his name from the public inscriptions. At the same
time they ordered statues oi gold to their new mas-
ter. These were not times for genuine merit:
but the number of artists must have been very
great. Not long after this event, Art deserted
Greece for Egypt.

Ptolemy Soter received and welcomed Art Z2'S.
and Talents : among others who sought an asylum
in his dominions was Apclles.

In Asia the Selucid.e, as well as in Egypt 3 12.
the Ptolemies received the fugitive artists of
Greece: but Art did not here yield equal fruits in
point of excellence.

Under Ptolemy Philadelphus Alexandria284.
became another Athens ; the celebrated Pharos or
light-house was erected : A prodigiously valuable
irmseum was also furnished. 'Ihe superb procession
of worki of Art which this prince exhibited, con-
tained hundreds of statues; and in a great pavilion
were exposed one hundred sculptures of animals,
executed by the greatest masters. Egyptian Art
r.ow became so much Greecianised, that it never

resumed

CHRONOLOGY OF ART. 95

A, M. Ante A. C.

resumed its ancient style : hardly even in its sacred
subjects.

The Achaian league, was an exertion of li-220.
berty : but the fury of the combatants in the war
which it produced, demolished all the productions
of Art in their power ; whether honorary to great
men, or sacred to the gods themselves.

Sicily afforded shelter to the Arts at this time:
and Bithynia and Perganios yet superior protection
and encouragement.

Agathocles from having been a potter, became
a king; and seems to have had a relish for Art:
he ordered a picture of a combat of cavahy in
which he had been engaged, and placed it to pub-
lic view in the temple of Pallas at Syracuse : the
picture was greatly esteemt-d, and carried to Rome
by Morcdlus.

HiERO II. from a simple citizen became a mag-
nificent Iving. Sicily during his reign enjoyed
profound peace.

About this time golden cups and vessels were fre-
quent : the city of Naples sent forty to Home at one
time.

In Pergamos Eumenes and Attalus higiily263.
encouraged Art and bestowed benefus on many 241.
cities. Sicyon expressed its acknowledgments by
erecting to Attalus a colossal statue placed in
public by the side of Apollo: and to Eumenes most
of the cities of Peloponessus erected statues.

About 194 years ante A. D. Greece was in
peace ; and the Romans who had greatly contributed
to that peace having politicly declared the freedom
of Greece, Art again revived and produced works
not unworthy of its best times — but the Roman
policy at length disunited the Greek cities, a civil
war ensued, and issued in the destruction of Corinth,
ante A. D. 146. From this city Lucius Mum-
Mius the Roman pretor carried off the vases,
iitatues, pictures, &c. and destroyed the city to the

sound

50 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

A. M. Ante A. C.

sound of trumpets ; Greece now became a Jio-
inan province under the name of Achaia. The Ro-
mans had received from the spoils of Antiochus,
ante A. D. 189, the first taste for Art and Asiatic
luxury, but the spoils of Corinth procured them the
most numerous and most valuable soecimens. Af-
ter th;s the Grecian cities in ganerai were stiipped
of their choicest works of Art.

Antiochus Epiphanes in S3'ria retarded the 115.
total failure of Art, by his munificence and his li-
berality to various citii.'s, but his reign was
onlv eleven years. After this,Art languished where-
ever it had been cultivated ; and though man}^ excel-
lent ivorks remaininG^ from former times could be
pointed out in various places of ^jreece, of Syria,
and of Kgypt, yet they could only shew what suc-
cess Art bad formerly eiijoyed, and thereby furnish-
ed n strikincr contrast to its actually depressed and
enfeebled >tate.

As tl)e Ron)an power gradually increased, Art
and artists gradually assembled in Rome. Syl-
LA ruined Athens, ante A. D. 86. Lucul-
Lus by his victories over Mithridates, ante
A. D. 69, became immensely rich and immense-
ly luxurious. The extravagance of Cleopatra
in Kgypt is well known. Julius Caesar, though 43.
deeply engaged in Avar, yet patronized the Arts,
and the good fortune of Augustus, which en-
abled him to maintain his empire long in peace,
was highly Invorable to those studies whose dread
is war, and which only cr.n prosper beneath the fos-
tering care of public tranquillity.

Augustus reigns at llotne. 31.

Anno Domini.

Augustus dies, i3.

CHRO-

CHRONOLOGY OF ART. 97

CHRONOLOGY OF ART AT ROME.

A. M. Ante A.C.

3236. Nu MA forbad to rcpi-esent the divinity under a 714.
human form ; prolxiblv therefore little employment
forsculpture: th re being neither statues, norimages
of Gods, for 170 years, in the temples of Rome;
whatever n)ight be elsewhere in that city.
:i3'S6. 7'arquin the elder, brought an Ktruscan artist614.
to model an Olympian Jupiter : also Cleophan-
TKs the painter, from Corinth.

Statues at first, under the republic, limited to
three feet high.

Etruscan artists employed Olymp. 121. Art now
becoming honorable, the Romans themselves be-
gin to practice it. — Not\Yithstanding which, Greek
paintings were in request.

Ihe first Greek works of importance were
brought to Rome by Marcellus, ante A. D.
cir. 200. after t'le taking of Syracuse. They were
employed to decorate the Capitol. L. Quinctius199.
having vanquished Philip, king of Macedon,
brought a vast number of works of Art from
Greece ; which he exposed daring three whole days
of his triumph. "i'he spoils taken from ^nti-
vchus in Sjria, fdled Rome with immense booty,
and introduced the ideas of Asiatic magnificence. 170.
Greek artists still in repute. — I'his custom of car-
rying to Rome all that was esteemed of works of
Art became so general, that by decrees, Rome
monopolized all that could be procured ; and their
original proprietors were left destitute. Rome did
not yet produce native artists to rival these pro-
ductions. They first employed their captives ; and
from these thev learned the principles of Art.

Syli.a ruined Athens cir. ante A. D. 86. and
carried to Rome even the columns of the temple
of the Olympian Jupiter. While Art was thus de-

Vol. IV. O part 2 stroyed

98 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

A. Nfc Anil- A. C.

stroyed in Greece, it revived in Rome ; Init not, at
first, with anv greut vijror. Sylla however en-
cOuraged it, hv building sumptuous edifices ; and
others ims tilted him.

Julius C-^esar distinguislied bims-elf while
youns;-, and a. private citizen, by liis njajrnificence,
and Jove for the Arts ; and when arrived at the em-
pire, (in 43 ante A. I).) he made great collections
of all kinds of works, and employed many ar-
tists by his buildinprs, and their ornaments.

Tlie latter victories of Lucullus, of Pompfy,
and of Augustus, brought to Rome many cap-
tives, among- others, capable of works of Art,
while the expectation of success, and employment,
drew to Rojue other masters of repute from Greece,
so that at this period artists were numerous, and
their principles were proportionally spread and
cultivated.

A. D.

Augustus died A. D. 14. He great!}' favored 14.
the Arts ; purchased the a\ orks of the best old mas-
ters ; ornamented the public places with statues j
seems '^o have had an Inspector of Statues. Many
portraits of him, busts, and figures remain.

Marcus Agrippa, and Mecenas, patronized
Art. Many edifices built.

Tiberius employed the arts but little: some
capable masters remained, but few are known.

Caligula mutilated many statues, by taking off
the heads, to insert portraits of himself. Robbed
the cities of Greece, &c. of their best works to
bring to Rome.

Claudius alTccted to promote letters ; but Avas
ionorant of true merit.

Nero coveted the works of great masters; he 54.
built very extravagantly : had colossal figures n)ade
of himself; tlespoiled Greece of all he could pro-
cure ; famous for his golden house.

Galea to Vespasian — "I'urbulent times: Arts
in suspence.

Under

CHRONOLOGY OF ART. 99

A.M. AD.

Under Vespasian the Arts flourished ; he formed 69.
a noble gallery of pictures; embellished his palaces
and gardens with works of Art.

1 iTUs endeavoured to revive and maintain the
splendor of Art; but unhappily reigned only two
years.

Do^fITIAN, Nerva. —

Trajan encouraged Art and artists ; built very 9S
sumptuous edifices: erected many figures, arches
of triumj)!), and other decorations,

1 Adrian patronised Art; is said himself alsolH.
to have practised Art, to have made a statue, and
to have designed buildinos. He built much in
Greece; encouraged others to patronise Art : his
villa most nobly ornamented ; his mausoleum very
superb; he caused many ancient works, Egyptian,
&c. to be copied, and imitated. His time produc-
ed many of tiiose statues which now we admire as
monuments of ancient Art.

CoMMODUs suffered the Arts to languish.

Three Emperors in one year previous to

Septimus Severus ; the public edifices erected \Q3.
by, and after him, manifest the decay of Art.

Caracalla affected to encourage the Arts ;
but by the violence of his manners did them no ef-
fectual benefit.

Heliogabalus — a glutton.

Alexander Severus loved the Arts, andlet-22U
ters ; from this time the Arts of Painting and
Sculpture continued to decay : Architecture still
maintained its esteem ; and produced buikhngs, at
least as rich and magnificent as heretofore; it seems
to have flourished while its sister Arts failed, as
well as after them.

After this period the character of the empire was
instability : the same was the character of Art: ne-
vertheless buildings of various kinds wen'e erected,
and especially by

Dioclesian, who not only built magnificent
0 2 Thermae

100 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

A.M. A.D.

Thermaj at Rome, but also a superb palace at
Spalatro.

CoNSTANTiKE removed the seat of empire to 3 12.
CotistJintinople ; naving restored peace to the em-
pire, he endoitvoured to cultivate Arts, and letters;
he procured many statues from various parts, to
ornament the Hippodrome at Constantinople ; and
though Art produced few great names, yet it en-
joyed peace, and was tranquil, if not splendid. 324.

After this serenity succeeded troubles ; false zeal
destroyed many of the noblest temples, and oiher
objects of worship, images, &.c. sometimes by the
concurrence of authorit}', sometimes by tumult.

Alexandria taken, and its library destroyed, by
the Calipli Omar, 637.

Many of the works of Art were removed
from Rome to Sicily ; where they were after-
wards taken by the Saracens ; others that were
at Constantinople were preserved for a longer time ;
at length they also became a prey to enemies ; but
some were carried off to Venice, by Baldwin,
who took Constantinople, in the beginning of the
13th century — what remained were seized by thtf
Turks, 1453.

Ihe taking of Constantinople was the last
blow in the destruction of ancient Art : yet by this
event the men of learning Avhich it contained being-
dispersed and driven into Italy, they became the
means of reviving letters, and liberal studies, in the
West: after which the Arts once more re-originated,
and from hence we may date their progress in mo-
dern times.

A LIST

L13T OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. 101

A LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISTS,

JVhose Names or Works are kjwzvn : or whose Nd?/ics
occur in Books, or on their Performances.

Agasias of Ephesus, autlior of the fighting ghidiator/at
Rome. No date.

Agathangelus, a. in'honcr \xui\fi\- Jug list us, hisuaincon
a Cornelian rejjresenting Sextus Pompcy.

Agi LADAs of Argos ; master oi Polijclttus. Olymp, 95.

Agenor, after the battle of Marathon. Olynip. 67 to 75,

Agesander of Rhodes; author of the Laocoon.

Agoracritos of Paros ; Sculptor, disciple of /^///(/w^.

Alcamenes of Atliens ; .Sculptor, disciple of Phidias.
Olymp. 87.

AlcAjMEnes, nnAcv ylugustus, of Rome; prisoner, his name
is on a small bas relief, in the villa Albani.

Anteus, Sculptor. Olymp. \55.

Angelion, disciple o^ J)ipaiie 3.n(\ ScyUis,

Athermus, Sculptor.

his son, Sculptor.

Antigonus of Pergamus ; Sculptor, he wrote on the sub.-
ject of his Art. Olymp. 141.

Antiochus of Athens.

Apelles, one of the most celebrated painters of antiquity,
was born in the isle of Cos, and flourished in the time oi Alex.,
under the Great. He was in high favour with this prince ; who
forbade any other to paint his picture but Apelles : in one of
his portraits, Alexander Avas represented holding a thunder-
bolt in his hand : the piece was finished with so mucli skill that
it used to be said there were two Alexanders; one invincible,
the son o^ Philip; the other inimitable, the production oi Apelles,
Alexander gave him a remarkable proofofregard: when he em-
ployed Apelles to draw CampaspCy one of his mistresses, having'
found that he had conceived an afiection for her, he resigned
her to him ; and from her Apelles is said to have drawn his
Venus Anadyomene, {i. e. vising from the sea.) This prince
went often to see Apelles at work ; one day, Avhen overlooking

him,

i02 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

him, be is said to have talked so absurdly about painting, tbat
Apelles desired him to be silent j telling hiiii that tbe very boys
who mixed the eolors laughed at him. It seems however ex-
traordinary, if not incredible, that u^pelles should use such an
expression to Alexanderi or tliat Alexander, who had so good
an education, and so fine a genius, should talk so impertinent-
]y of painting. Alexander, we arc told, having seen one of
his pictures by Apelles, did not commend it as it deserved : a
little time alter, a horse happened to be brought, which
neighed at sight of the horse painted in the same picture: u])-
on which Apelles is said to have observed, " this horse under-
stands painting better than his Majesty." One of Apelles's
chief excellencies was the resemblance of his pictures to t!ie
persons represented ; insomuch that physiognomists were able
to form a judgment as readily from his portraits, as from the
originals. His dexterity at a likeness was of singular service,
in extricating him from a difficulty wheren he was involved
at the court of b-gypt : he had not the good fortune to be in
favor with Ptolemy: a storm forced him, however, to take
shelter at Alexandria, during the reign of this prince ; Avhere
a mischievous fellow designing to injure him, in the king's
name invited him to dinner. Apelles went, and' seeing the
king in a prodigious passion, told him byway of excuse, that
he should not have come to his table but by his order. He
was conmianded to shew the man who liad invited him;
which was impossible, tlie person not being present : Apelles,
however, drew a sketch of him on the wall with a coal, the
first lines of which discovered him immediately to Ptolemy.
Ti;e following story is also related of him. Having heard of
the fame of Protog< nes, he sailed to Rhodes to visit him : but
finding him absent he took a tablet, and drew therein a deli-
cate line. Prologeties at the sigiit of it, exclaimed, " Apelles
liath been here;" and he himself drew a second line, with
another color in the midst of it, and left it. Apelles upon his
return drew a third, so correct, as left no possibilitv for im-
provement; which when Protogenes saw, he confessed he
had met both with his match and master, and went to seek
Apelles. 'J'his tablet was kept for a long time, and esteemed
beyond any rich or curtous work : it w.is destroyed by fire
in tlie palace of desanjix the Palatine hill.

Apelles

LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. 103

Apdlcs left many excellent pictures, which are mentioned
rvith gre.it honor by tiie antients ; but liisVenus Anadyomene
IdJj reckoned his master-piece. This picture in the lower
ipart of it was hurt by some mischance ; but no painter would
•iundertake to repair t!ie same, to make it equal to the rest.

Apollodorus, Painter, master ot £euxis, lived in the
viinety-third Olympiad, brought tlie pencil into great esteem.
*0f his pictures are mentioned a priest at devotion, praying
nnd worshipping; another of ^'aj:" in flames by lightning. To
;5j)eak true, says Plinij, before his days there can hardly be
shewn a tablet which any man would take pleasure to look
long upon.

Apolodorus, a f<imous architect under Trajan and Adri-
iffi!, was born at Damascus; had the direction of that most
magnificent bridge, which Trajan built over the Danube, in
the year 104. He also constructed the Forum Trajanum at
Knme. Adrian^ who valued himself highly on his knowJed'ye
Oi arts and sciences, and hated every one of whose eminence
in his profession he was jealous, conceived a very early dis-
afiection to this artist, on the following occasion : as Trajan
was one day discoursing v.ith Apolodorus on his buildings at
llo aie, Adrian gdiVQ. his judgment ; but very erroneously :
the artist, turning bluntly upon him, bid him '* go paint Ci-
triils, for he knew nothing of the subject they were talking of:'*
no»/ Adrian was at that time engaged in painting Citruls, and
even bo;iSted of it. This was the first step towards his ruin ;
which Apolodorus was so far from attempting to retreive, that
lie iidded a new offence, after Adrian was advanced to the
empire. To shew Apolodorus that he had no occasion for him,
Adrian sent him the designs of a temple of Fcnus; which was
actually built. Apolodorus wrotehis opinion freely, and found
suc^ essential faults in it, as the emperor could neither deny
or uemedy: observing that it was neither high nor large
enoi![gh ; that the statues in it were disproportioned to its bulk :
for, said he, '< if the goddesses should have a mind to rise and
go otit, they could not do it." Tliis vexed ^r/r/an,and prompt-
ed li'm to get rid o^ Apolodorus. He banished him first, at last-
had him put to death; not setting forth the true cause, of
which he would have been ashamed, but under the pretext of
several crimes, of which he got him accused and convicted.

Appolonius,

lOi A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Appolontus, of Athens, Sculotor. Olymp. 155. Author
of tlie famous Torso of Hercules.

Appolontus and Tauriscus, authors of the Furnese Bull.

Sieil'an Scul;;tors.

A ppoi.oK'u^', of Priene, author of the apotheosis oi Homer ^
in the Pallazzo.ColonMa at Rome.

Arcesilas, friend oi Luc alius ; his models were bouj^ht by
artists at liigher jiricesthan the finished works of otiier masters
Iij made a Venus f.;r Casar^ which was taken awaj unfinished.

Ardicks, of Corinth ; supposed to have improved the Art
of Paintinj; greatly: one of the most ancient Greek Painters.

ARisTiDEs,the'ihehan,wasthefir:>t who expressed accurate-
] V the couv editions of the mind, its inward dispositions ynd ac-
tions, the very perturbations and passions of the soul ; but his
colormg- was unpleasant and harsli. He painted the taking of
atovvii byassault, wiierein wasan inl'ant creepingto the breyst
of its mother who lay dying by a wound received in thatpait:
the poor woman's atiection IS stated to have been expressed
very naturally in this picture, manifesting a certain sympaljiy
and tender affection to her child in the midst of her dyiig
pano-s. This tablet yiiV.rowt/tr^/ii^ 6' /re/ translated from Thebes
to Pella. He painted a. fight of an hundred Greeks and Per-
siajis, and sold it to Manascn, the tyrant of Elate, for ten
pounds of silver for every head therein. King Altalus ;dso
gave him for one tablet, one hundred talents of silver,

Aristocles, ! ,'0 years after Dipcene and Scyllis. Sculptor,
at Sicyon-

Aristodeaius, Artist under Septimus Severus.

Aristomkdes andSocRATEs, Sculptors. Ol3nip. 71 tc73.

Aristomedon, of Argos. Olym[). 47.

Aristocles, of Cydonia in Crete. Olymp. 20 to 24.

Aj'.timedorus, father oi\'Jppo/o)ui(s and Tauriscus.

Ascarus, disci'plc cS Agehidas.

AscLLPiODORUs, Painter, master of Zeuxis; attempt©:! tlie
po'.vers of light and shade : was richly paid for his works and
V as admired by yipelles himself for his singular skill in iccu-
ntc symmetry and just proportion : he painted for the king
oi the Klarans the tw(;lve principal gods, and received for
joery one of tiicm three hundred pounds of silver.

ATHiTv'Etrs.

LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. 105

Atheneus, Sculptor. Olymp. 155.

Athenodorus, son oi Agesandtr, assisted in the Laocoon.
Anaxagoras, of E'gina, before the expedition oi Xerxes
into Greece.

Bathycles, of Magnesia, made the cup consecrated by
the seven sages of Greece to the Delpliic Apollo — about the
47th Olympiad.

Br-Yaxis, iiis master-piece in brass was a man greivously
wounded, fainting, and ready to die ; this he expressed so
exquisitely that one might perceive how little life and breath
wtis left in him.

BuLARCHUs, a Painter, lived in the ISth Olmpiad. One
of his pictures representing a battle, was bought at its weight
in gold.

l^upALUs, son of ^////^^TWM^ the old.

Calamis, Sculptor : excellent at horses, ante 77th Olynip.
He made chariots drawn with two horses, and others with
four : for workmanship in horses, he had not his equal : that
he might appear to possess the like Art in human statues, he
made one of Alcmena, so exquisitely wrought, that no man
could set a better piece of work by it.

Callimachus, Sculptor and Architect, said to have first
composed the Corinthian order — rather he first applied the
Acanthus in the capital of columns^ whose proportions he
established into the Corinthian order.

Callistrates, b-'culptor. Olynip. 156.

Callixemes, Sculptor. Olymp. 155.

Callonus, of Egina, Sculptor; disciple of Tecteus: lived
to he very old, and even to outlive Phidias. Olymp. 90.

Callokus, of Elis, Sculptor; was somewhat prior to the
foregoing.

Canachus, of Sicyori, contemporary to Callonus of Egina,
about the 95th Olymp. Scholar ai Polycletes.

Cephissiadorus, son of PraxiteleSy Sculptor.

Cephissodotus, Sculptor. Olymp. 102.

Chares, statuary, disciple of Lysippus^ immottalised him-
self by th-e colossus of the sun at Rhodes, which was reckoned
one of the seven wonders of the world. This statue was of
brass, above 100 feet high ; and placed at the entrance of the
harbour at Rhodes, with the feet upon two rocks, in such a

Vol. IV. P part 2 manner,

106 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART..

manner, that ships could pass in full sail betwixt them. Chares
employed 12 years upon it ; alter standing 66 years it vas
thrown down by an earthquake. Moavius, a caliph of the Sa-
racens, who invaded Rhodes in 667, sold itto a Jew merchant,
%vho is said to have loaded 900 camels with the materials of it.
[Some personshavedoubted the accuracy of this relation: pro-
bably it did not stand in the outward harbour.] Ihe thumbs
and great toes of it were so big that few men were able to
embrace one of them ; bigger than the most part of other
Avhole statues and images: the workmanship cost three hun-
dred talents, given by King Demetrius.

Chartas of Lacedemon. Olym. 60.

Cleanthes, a very ancient painter of Corinth.

Cleophantus before 40 Olymp. went to Tarquin in Italj-,
and taught Paiiitaig as practised in Greece.

Clearchus of Rhegio, disciple oi Euchirus ; Pxjthagorus
studied Sculpture in his school.

CoLOTHES, assisted Phidias in finishing his Jupiter Olym-
pus at Elis, the statue was 60 cubits high, composed of gold
and ivory.

CoNON Cleoneus, perfected the art of paint' ng, which
before his time was but rudely and inartificia.Iy exercised ;
his pictures were sold at a price above any other arti>t's in
t'lat age wherein he lived : he was the first who attempted to
foreshorten figures.

Criton, Sculptor, under Augustus.

Ctesilaus. Sculptor. Olymp. 87.

Cydias, ri pre.-ented the Argonauts, that attended Jason in
his expedition to Colchis : llortensius the orator paid for this
piece one hundred and forty-four thousand sesterces, and
shrined this picture in an oratory or chapel, built on purpose
for it, in a pleasure house that he had at Tusculum.

Dameas. Olymp. 60. Made at Elis the st«tue of Milo
the Crotou'an, who, while his hands were confined in the
cleft of a tree, was attacked by a lion.

Damophoon, of Messina. Olymp. 97. Repaired the
statue of Olympian Jupiter at Mis.

Dedalus. It is not easy to determine wlicther there were
not more artists than one of this name: nor to reconcile the

accounts

• LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. 107

accounts transmitted to us, if they relate to the same person.
Diodonis Siculus has given us the largest account respecting
him ; but beside the comparatively late date of this author,
there seems to be some considerable difficulties in his story.
He says, book 1. sect. 2. *' That Dedalus hnWt, in i* gyp^ the
wonderful vestibule of the temple of Vulcan at Memphis : a
Avork which acquired him so grcatglory that his statue in wood,
made by himself, v/as placed in the temple: that he even ac-
C|U'red divine honours, and a temple in one of the islandsnear
Memphis was dedicated to him, and grcatlv venerated." — How
js this consistent witli the idea of a young student, who went
into Egypt to learn his Art, and whose mode of representing
figures would have been thought irreligious by the Egyptians?
It seems credible however, that he might propose to imitate
the labyrinth of the {Egyptians, and perhaps might construct
in Crete, many years afterwards, some small building resem-
■Jjling it.

In Book IV. Diodonis gives us a history of Dedalus at large,
but confessedly mingled with fable. 1 he truth seems to be
thus — Dedalus was an Athenian by nation, and of the noble
family of the Erecthtides : his father being Hymetion, son of
Eupalarnus, and grandson of Erechteus. Dedalus surpassed all
men in Sculpture — he gave also very useful rules for perfecting
the Art — his works were admired in Various parts. His fi-
gures were said to see — to be alive : — which indeed, they were,
compared with t!ie mummy-like figures hitherto in use. — But
if Dedalus had great merit — he had also great crimes : — among
other scholars he took his nephew Talus under his discipline
when a child, but the scholar became more skilful than the
master ; for Talus invented the potter's wheel, the saw, (the
hint of which he is said to have taken from the teeth of a ser-
pent) the turning lathe, and many other useful implements in
the Arts : Dedalus through envy killed him — was condemned
— and fled to Crete ; where he was employed by Minos: but,
contributing to the mtu^nes, oi Pasiphae^ wife oi Minos, with
Taurus, he fied from Crete in a small vessel ; to wdiich he pro-
portioned the quantity of sail so happily, that he made a safe
and speedy passage to Sicily ; while his son Icarus, who ac-
companied him in another boat, by using too much sail, over-
set his vessel, and was droAvned. Dedalus remained long in

Sicily,

108 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Sicily, ai)d embeljisiied tliat island by his works, as well pwh-
lic as private, under the protection of Cocalus its king. He
dug near Megaridos <ipiscina through which the river Alabon
discharged itself into the sea ; he built on the top of a rock an
impregnable citadel where afterwards stood Agrigcnfmn : he
rendered a cavern in a territory of Selinuiituni a conveni-
ent vapour-bath to promote perspiration : he enlarged the
summit of mount Eryx, by supporting the earth w ilh a wall :
and he accomplished many other works of Art and ni^rit.

Minos is said to have sougiit Dcdalus in Sicil}- ; and there
to have landed troops, but to have fallen by the treaclicrx- of
Cocalus.

It seems then as if we might depend on the following as
facts, — that ])edalus M'as an Athenian — that prompted liy
love for liis Art he visited Kgypt, where probably he staid
someyears , — that he returned to Athens, v,«here he practised
and gre.iLiy improved his Art; — t'jat he fled from Athens to
Crete;— iroin Crete to Sicily: — and that according to the
works he performed, he was many }ears in each of these;
islands : he must therefore have reached a very advanced age.
It is probable however, that these events relate to more than
one person ; perhaps of the same family, who assumed the
name Dedahis in remembranpe of their famous ancestor: or
perhaps the Egyptians might give the iM'.me J )edalus to Artists
of a particular department ; and this might be retained by
more t;.an one who had studied in that coiuitr}*.

Democr-itus, of Sicyon, Sculptor.

DiNOCRATEs, a celebrated architect of Macedonia, of whom
several extraordinar}' things are related. Vi'l )-uvius telhui^,
that, A'.hea Alexander the Great had conquered all before him,
J)iiwcrates, full of great coi:ceptions,and relying upon them,
went from Macedonia to the army, with a view ot recommend-
ing himself to his notice and favour. He carried letters recom-
mendatory to the nobles about him, who received him very
graciously, and promised to introduce him to the king. But
either thinking them slow, or suspecting that they had no de-
sign to do it, he resolved at length to introduce himself; and
for this purposeconceived the following project. He assumed
the character of y/rrf«/t.?, anointed his body with oil, crowned
bi-s temples with poj)Iar, flung a lion's skin over his left shoul-
der,

LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. 109

fler, and q^rasped a club in his right-hand. Thus accoutred,
he march( d forth, and appeared in the court, where the king
^vas administering justice. The eyes of the people were na-
turally turned upon to striking a spectacle, for striknig he
was, being very tixll, very well-proportioned, and vervhai)d-
some : this moved the king to order him forward, and to a,k
him who he was. *' I am," says lie, " Dinocratcs the Macedo-
nian Architect, and bring to your majesty thoughts and de-
signs worthy of your greatness ; I have designed Mount Athos
in the form of a man, in whose left hand 1 have placed a sjreat
<Mtv, all the rivers of the mount flow into his right, and from
thence into tlie sea." Akxamkr seemed pleased with his de-
sign, but, after some little debate, declined putting it in ex-
ecution. However, lie kept the architect, and took him into
l\gypt, where he employed him in marking out and building
the cit}' of Alexandria. Another memorable instance oi Di-
nocrattii's architectonic skill is his restoring, and building, ia
a more august and n)agnificent manner than before, the cele-
brated temple of Diana at Ephesus, after Herostratus, for the
purpose of immortalizing his name, had destroyed it by fire.
A third inst.t nee more extraordinaryand wonderful than either
of the forager, is related by Pliny in his " Natui-al History;'*
who tells us, that hesuggested ascheme, by building the dome
of the ten^plc of Arsinoe at Alexandria of loatistoue, to sus-
pend her image (all of iron) in the middle of it, as if flying in
the air ; but the king's death, and his own, hindered him from
proceeding far, if at all, in the design. It is not impossible
this hint might be the foundation of a similar story respect-
ing the body of Mahomd. •

DiNOMEKES, Scul})tor. Olymp. 94.

DioGNETEs, Painter and Philosopher, tar.ght drawino- to
Marcus Aurelius.

])i0NYsius, of Argos, Sculptor. Olymp. 71. to 73.

DioNYsius, son of Timarchides, Sculptor. Olymp. 102.

DioscoRiDEs, Kngraver of heads of Augustus,

DiPCEKE and Scyllis, Sculptors. About Olj-mp. 20. to 20,
established the Sicyonian Sc-ool : were extremeh* famous in
their days : and following generations reaped the benefit of
their skill and reputation.

DoRYCLiDAs, a Lacedemonian, disciple of Diposne and
Scyllis,

DONTAS

110 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

DoNTAs, disciple of Dipoene and Scyllis.

Eladas, of Argos. Olymp. 71. to 73. Master of P^?'<^wi.

EucHiRAs, of Corinth. After Olymp. 60. Disciple of 5y-
adras and Chartas.

EuDocus, one of the scholars of Dedalus.

EuMARUS, Painter, ap[)lied himself to the study of charac-r
ters and distinction of sexes. Lived little after the beginning
of the Olympiads.

EuFHRANOR. Olymp. 104. Of the isthmus of Corinth.
Was an excellent Sculptor and Painter, and flourished about
362 5'ears before Christ. He wrote sever.tl volumes of the Art
of coloring, and of symmetry : yet is said to have fallen into
the same error with Zeuxis, of making his heads too big, in
proportion to the other parts. His conceptions were noble an4
elevated, his style masculine and bold : and he was the first
who signalized himself by representing the majesty of heroes.
He was, says Pliny ^ the antlior of that statue of Pcrw, the
excellent ait and workmanship whereof represented to the
eye all at once, a judge between the goddesses, the lover of
Helen, and yet the murderer pf Achilles.

EupOMPUs of Sicyon, master of Pamphtlus, master of
Apelks.

EvANDER of Athens in Augustus's time, a follower o{ Mark
Anthony.

EvoDus, Engraver in precious stones, under Tiius. A.D.
80.

GiTiADAs, a Lacedemonian. Sculptor, Architect, and
Poet. Before the Mesenian war.

Glaucias, of Egina. Ol\ nip. 71. to 73.

Glaucias, a Lacedemonian Sculptor, livedbefore the wara.
of the Lacedemonians against the Mesenians. Olymp. 9.

Glaucus of Argos. Olymp. 71. to 73.

Glycon, of Athens, author of the Hercules Farnese.

Gnaios, prisoner from Asia (Ionia) probably: his name is
to a head of Hercules in the cabinet at Strozzi, Rome — on a
precious stone.

Hegesias, Sculptor, perhaps author of the group of Cas-
ior and Pollux^ at Komc.

Hegias, of Athens. Sculptor. Olymp. 95.

Hypatodok, Sculptc^r. Olymp. 102.

Laphaes of Phliasia, at>out Olymp. 47.

Learciius,

LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. Ill

Learchus of Rhegio, disciple of Dipccne and Scylh's.

Leochares. Sculptbr. Olyrrjp. 102.

Leontius MTouglit in hrass,^.sf7//os, the famous runner, ia
a race ; Aviiicii was highly Cbtcenjcd at Oiynipia : also tlie por-
trait of one that iseeined lame ; and to halt by reason of an
ulcer: but so naturally done, that as many as beheld it,
seemed to have compassion and fellow-feeling with him of the
pain and suffering of liis soie : this was seen at Syracuse.

Lysanias, Sculptor.

Lycius, of Ekuthera, famous for a figure of a boy blow-
ing a fire. Olymp. 87. Disciple of Myron.

Lysias, made Apollo and Diana, in a chariot dawn by four
liorses, all of one piece : it appears how highly it was es'-eemed
by the honourable place w herein it stood ; for Augustus
Ccesar, to the honor of Odavius his fatiier, dedicated it in
JVIount Palatine, over a triumphant arch there.

Lyssippus, a celebrated Statuary, was a^native of Sicvon,
and flourished in the time of Alexander the Great. He was
bred a locksmith, and followed that business for a wliile ; but,
by the advice of lupo)npus, a painter, he applied himself to
painting, which, hov. ever, he soon quitted for sculpture, in
which he succeeded perfectly well. It is said that he asked
Eupompus *' what pattern he had best follow of all the work-
men who had gone before him ?" he shewed him a multitude
of people, and tcid him, " he should do best to imitate Na-
ture herself." He executed bis works with more ease than any
of the ancient masters, and accordingly finished more works
than any of them. The statue of a man wiping and anointino-
himself after bathing was particularly excellent : Agrippa
placed it before his baths at Home. Tiberius, v/ho wascharmed
with it, could not resist the desire of being master of it, when
he came to the empire : so that he took it into his own apart-
ment, and put another very fine one in its place. But, as much
as that emperor was feared by the Roman people, he could
not hinder them from demanding, in a full theatre, that he
would replace the first statue, and so vehemently, thathefouud
it necessary to comply with their solicitations, in order to ap-
pease the tumult. Another of Lyssippus''s capital pieces was a
grand statue of the sun, represented in a c.ir drawn by four
horses ; this statue was worshipped at Rhodes. He made

also

112 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

also several stiitues of Jicxandev and Iiis favorites, wl^ich
•were brought to Home by Me'tellus, after he had reduced the
Macedonian empire. He particuhiily excelled in the hair of
his heads. He alone had the privilege to represent Alexan-
der. He WHS tiie founder of the colossus of Hercules at Ta-
rcntum, Avhichwus iorty cubits higli. He had three bons,
who were uli ins disciples, and acquired great reputation in
the Art.

Lystratus of Sicyon was the first that in plaster or alabas-
ter took oifthe face in a mould ; Avhich image he afterwards
copied in wax : nor staid he there, but began to make the
very likeness of the person ; before him every man studied
to make the fairest faces, liot sufficiently regarding ^^ helher
they wore like or no.

Malas of the isle of Chios, his son Micciades, his grandson
AniheDiius : a family of Artists from the first Olympiad to 60,
when a descendant named /)7i/;a/i/5 was Sculptorand Architect.

Melanthus, Painter, scholar of Paviphilus. Olymp. 90.

iVjEMNOK, of I'gypt ; Sculptor. If not rather the name
of the statue.

Menechml's, Sculptor, of Naupactus, cir. Oh-mp. 95.

^sIenecrates, Sculptor, master of yJ polio ii his and Taiins-
ais.

IMenelaus, disciple of Stephanus, autlior of the group in
the villa Ludovisi, called Papirius and his mother.

Mekestratus's Ileirides, says Pli»]/j was in high admira-
tion, as also his Hecate, which stood in a chapel at p]phesns,
'nehind the great temple of Diana; the wardens of whicii
cliapel warn those who come to see it, not to look loo long
u})on it, for fear of dazzling their eyes, so resplendent w as
the polish of the marble.

Metrodop.us. Olynjp. 15."). Painter and Pliilosophcr.

TilicciADEs, s;>n oi' Malas of the isle of Chios. Olymj). 20.

rviNESARCus, I Engraver in precious stones; au Etruscan
Artist: the only one whose name is known.

Myron. Olymp. 87.

Mys, a Sculptor or Chaser \p. silver, j^rlncipally of mytho-
logical subjects.

Naucides, cf Argos. Scnlpti-r. Olymp. 94.

Nicias, of At!i'Mr-., disciple of .Ivti'iiotus, Sculptor and

Painter,

LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISIS. 113

I'.iiiiur. He exceedingly delighted himself in his profession
of iniintint^; and was so intent upon it, that when he painted
Necija, he frequently ibrgot to eat, and asked his servants,
" whether he had dined, or not r" When this incomparable
piece of art was finished, king Ptolemy sent to purchase it of
iiini at the price of sixty talents ; btit lie refused to part with
it, though for so vast a sum.

NicoLAus, of Athens, v^'culptor.

NicoMACKUs, son ?iudi i>c\\o\iiY oi Ai istodemus. Painter,
cotemporary of ylpcl/cs.

Onatas, son of Mycon of Plgina; before tlie expedition
of \erxi'.s.

Pamphilus, Painter. Olymp. 104, A Macedonian : was
the (irst of painters skilled in arithmetic and geometr}', with-
out Avl)ich he judged it impossible to be a perfect Painter: he
was renowned for drawing a confraternity of kindred, the
hattkt fought before PA///«-,and the victory of the Athenians,
llctaught none undera talent of silver forten years together :
and thus much paid Apelles and Melanihus to learn his art.

Paralus, son of PohjdcteSy Sculptor, not equal to his fa-
ther,

Parrhasius, son and disciple of F.venor. Olymp. 104.
A celebrated Painter of Ephesus, or, according to others,
of Athens : iic flourished in the time of Socrates^ if Ave may
credit Xeiwphoii, w ho liath introduced him in a dialogue dis-
coursing with that philosopher. He was one of the
most excellent Painters in his time. Pliny says, that he first
gave symmetry and just proportions to his art ; that he also
first knew how to express the truth and life of characters, and
the different airs of the face ; that he studied a beautiful dis-
position of the hair, and heightened the grace of the counte-
nance. It was alloweti bj'mastersin the art, that he exceeded
«ill others in a graceful correct outline. But the same author
observes, that Parrhasms\iQ.Q.-ei?cvQ insupportable by his pride;
and was so swelled with vanity, as to assume the most flatter-
ing ei)it!jets; such as, the tenderest, the softest, the grandest,
the most delicate, and the perfecter of his art. He boasted
that he was sprung originally from Apollo^ and born to paint
the gods ; that he had actually drawn 7/(era</d.y touch by touch:
that hero having often appeared to him in his dreams. When

Vol. IV. 2 part 2 the

114 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

the majovity of voices was iijrainst him ;it Samos in favour of
Timanthcs, on the subject of a picture of *' Jjax provoked
against the Greeks, for adjudgino toVhssesihe arms of Achil-
Jes" he answered a person who condoled liim on this check,
" For my part, I don't tronhlemyself at tlic scnt^'nce ; l)ntam
*' sorry the son of Tclanwn hath received a greater outrage
" than that which was formerly put upon him so unjustly."
JElian^ who relates this story, informs us that our painter af-
fected to wear a crown of gold on his head, and to carry in
his hand a baton, studded with nails of tiie same metal.

He worked at his art with pleasantry, and for t!)e most part
Avith singing. He was unhappily licentious in his pictures; for
instance InsAfa/aniiSy witli her spouse 3A7.-a^d-/-, which piece
being uiterw ards devised as a iegacy to the emperor Tihti iiiSy
upon condition that, if he was displeased with it, he shoidd
receive a million of sesterces instead of it, the emperor, co-
vetous as he was, not onlv preferred the picture, but even
placed it in iiis most favourite apartment. It is said also, that
though /'(i/rr/i^A'/a.^wasexcelled by Twian/hts, yethe excelled
ZtiLvis : wliich story is thus related. He was bold enough to
challeoge Zcuxis for the victory in his art: Ztux'is exhibited
a tablet wherein clusters of grapes were so cliarmingly repre-
sented, that the birds came to peck at them. Pan luisius had
only painted a curtain, but so accurately, that Zeuxis said to
him, " Come Sir, away with 3-our curtain, that we may see
your goodly picture." But perceiving his error, he was con-
founded, yielded him the victory, and said, '* Zeuxis hath be-
guiled poor birds, hut Pair/iasius hath deceived Zeuxis, a pro-
fessed artist."

Pasi TELES of Greece, citizen of Rome, under Augustus :
worked principally in relief, on sdver ; made a capital JupittT
of ivory, which /VZ/^j/saw in the p<ilace oi Mcttllus. He wrote
on the f .mous works of Art, five books.

Patr'CLUs, Olymp. 95. Sculptor.

PAUbius, Painter, his pictures ^old at great prices.

Pauson, Painter : an ancient master.

Peonius, Sculptor, of Mendeum inThrace.

Phidias, the most famous Scidptor of antiquity, was .in
Athen'an, and contemporary of P</7V7("^, who flourished in
the 83d Olympiad. This wonderful artist was not only con-
summate

LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. 115

sunimate in the use of his tools, but accomplished in those
sciences and branches of knowledge, which l)elong to his pro-
fession : as histoiy, poetry, fable, geometry, oj)tics, &.c. He
first taught the Greeks to imitate nature perfectly ; and all his
"vvoiks were received with admiration. I'hey were also incre-
dibly numerous ; for it was almost peculiar to Phidia.s^ that he
united the greatest facilit}' with the greatest perfection. His
Nemesis was ranked among h's first pieces : it was carved
out of a block of marble, vvh'ch was found m the camp of
the Persians, after they were defeated n the plains of Mara-
thon. He made an excellent stiitue of Minerva ft)r the Pla-
teaus ; but the statue of that goddess at Athens, in her magni-
ficent temple, (of \\hich there are still some ruined remains,)
was an astonishing production of Art. Pcrules, who had the
care of this stately edifice, gave orders to Phidias^ to make a
statue of the goddess; and Phidias formed a figure of ivory
and gold, thirty-nine feet high. Upon tlie swelling round of
the shield of this goddess, he engraved the batlle wherein the
Amazons were defeated by Theseus; in t'le lower part he
chased the conflicts between the gods and the giants ; on the
shoes the figiit betwixt the Centaurs and Lapitiise; on the base,
or pedestal of the statue the genealogy of Pandoia, and the
nativities of the gods, to the number of thirty, and among
them the goddess Victory, of most admirable workmans'iip;
with a serpent and sphinx of brass, under the spear t!iat Mi~
furva holds in her hand, adm'red bv all. Writers never speak
of this illustrious monument of skill without raptures ; yet
what has rendered the name of the artist immortal, proved
at that time his ruin. He had carved unon the shield of the
goddess his own portra't, and that of Pericles ; and this was,
b}' those who envied him, made a crime in Phidias. He Avas
also charged with embezzling part of the gold which was de-
.signed for the statue, but from this he cleared himself by
taking off the gold ; when ir was found to be of the same
weight as lie had received. Upon this, he withdrew to F'lis,
and avenged himself on the ungrateful Athenians, bv makmg
for this town the Olympic Jupiter; a prodigv of Art, and
which was ranked among the seven wonders of the world It
was of ivory and gold ; sixty feet high, " The majesty of the
" work did equal the majesty of the God," says 2uintiUian ;

2 2 " and

116 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

" and its beauty seems to have added lustre to the religion of
" the country." P h id I'a s concladet] his labours with this mas-
ter-piece ; and the Elians, to do honour to his memory,
erected and appropriated to his de.sc;nHlants, an office, \vhicl»
consisted in keeping clean this magnihcent image.

Philoxenus painted a tablet for king Cassandei\ contain-
ing the battle betwixt ylhwander the (rvcat and Darius ; which
for exquisite art was not inferior to any other whatever.

Palemon of Sicyon wrote a treatise on the works of An
in that city.

PoLicLEs, Sculptor. Olymp. 155.

Pol VOLES, Sculptor. Olymp. 102.

PoLVCLETUs, Oljnip. 87, the Sicyonian, made that which
■workmen called the Canon ; that is to say, one consummate
and perfect figurefroni whence artificers might studv symme-
tries, and proportions, as from a perfect rule, which guides
anddirects them in their work. He made a Diadumenusm brass,
an effeminate young man, with a diadem about his head : a
piece of work much spoken of, for it cost an hundred talents.

PoLYDORUs, author of the Laocoon, probably lived about
the age of Alexander.

PoLYGNOTUs,Painter,famousforgloomy subjects: whereby
he seems to be strongly distinguisl)cd from Polygnotus, the
l^Jiasiaiiy who was the first that painted women in shewy and
light apparel, with their head-dresses of sundry colours. His
invention it was to paint figures with themouth open, to make
them shew their teeth ; he also represented much variet\' of
countenance, far different fiom the stiiVand heavy look of for-
mer times. He also adorned the great gallery of Athens with
the history of the Tojan war : and being recjuested bv Alpi-
nicc, the daughter of Mi//iades-, to paint her among the IVojan
women, he did it so t^xqnisitely, that she seemed to be alive.

Praxiteles, Scidptor in bronze antl marble. Olymp. lOJ.
His /^"(t^/^Ui', which he wrought for the town of Gniilos, surpassed
all statues that ever were made; and was indeed so exijuisite,
that many have sailed to Gnidos for no other |)urpose but to
behold it. King Nicoviedes offered to free their city of all
debts (which were great sums) for this piece of work; but
they resolved not to part with it.

Protogenes, Painter, was a native of Caunas, a city of Ca-
ria, subject to the llhodians. Who was his father or his mo-

ther

LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. 117

ilier, is not knoun ; but it is probalile he bud no other master
than the public pieces be saw; and perhaps liis parents, be-
ing poor, couldnot beat any such expence lor his education in
tlie art, as was customary at that time. It is certain he was
obliged at first to paint ships for his livelihood : but his am-
bition was not to be rich ; his aim being solely to be master
of his profession. He finished his pictures with too great
care : ylpellcs said of hiin, he knew not when he had done
enough. The finest of his pieces was the picture o^ Jalyssus,
mentioned by sev(u-al authors, without giving any description
of it, or telling us who this Jalyssus was: some persons sup-
pose him to have been a famous hunter, and the founder of
Rhodes. For seven years that Protogenes ^xoxkad. on this pic-
ture, all his food was lupines wixed with Mater, which served
him both for meat and drink. It is said that after seven years
spent upon it, he remained still chagrined, because, hav-
ing represented in it a dog panting and out of breath, he
was not able to express the foam at his mouth; which vexed
him to such a degree, that in anger he threw his sponge against
it in order to efface it, and this luckily produced by chance
what his art could not effect. [The samegood luck, it is said,
liappened to Neocles the painter, with the foam of a horse.]
He wasof opinion that his simpleand lightnourishment would
leave him the freedom of his fancy. Apdks was so struck
with admiration of this piece, that be could not speak a word ;
liaving no expression to atiswer his idea. It Mas this same pic-i
ture that saved thecity of Rhodes, when besieged by king De-
metrius; for, not being able toattack the town but on that side
where Protogenes worked,he chose rather to abandon his hopes
of conquest, than to destroy so fine a piece as that of Jalys&us.
Every body knows the story of the contest between Proto-.
genes diVxA Apelles. This latter, hearing of the reputation of
Protogenes, went to Rhodes on purpose to see his Morks. On
his arrival there, he found in the house nobody but an old wo-
man : who, asking his name, he answered, " I am goino- to
write it on the canvas that lies here ;" and, taking a pencil
with color on it, designed something with extreme delicacv.
P/vfogenes coming home, the old woman told him what had
passed, and shewed him the canvas ; he then attentively ob-
serving the beauty of the lines, said it was certainly ApcUes
who had been there, being* assured that no one else Avas able

118 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ARTr

to drawan}^ tiling so fine. Then taking another colour he drew
on those lines an outline more correct and more delicate ; after
Avhich he went out again, bidding the old woman shew that to.
the person who had been there, if he returned, and tell hinx
that was the man he enquinnl for. Apelles returning, and be-
ing ashamed to see himself outdone, takes a third colour, and,,
among the lines that had been drawn, lays sonae with somuch
judgment, and so wonderfully fine, that it took in all the sub-
tlety of the art. Protogenes^SiW these in his turn ; and, con-
fessing that hecould not doi)etter, gave over the dispute, and
ran in haste to find out Apelles.

Pliny, who tells this story, says he saw this piece of canvas
before it was consumed in the fire which burnt down t!ie em-
peror's palace; that there was not!)ing upon it but some llnesy
■which could scarce be distinguished; and yd this fragment
was more valued tharj any of the pictures among m hicli-it was-
placed. The same author goes on to relate, that Apelles ask-
ing his rival what price he had for his pictures, and Protoge-
nes naminir an inconsiderable sum, accordinij to the sat! for-
tune of those who are obliged to work for their bread ; Apelles^
concerned at the injusticedone to the beautyof hisproductions^
gave him Hit}' talents [equivalent to 10,0001 sterling,, a sum
large enough to be incredible, were we not told that Apelles
had twice as nuich for his own pieces] for one picture only^
declaring publicly, that he would make it pass and sell it for
his own. '1 his generosity opened the eyes of the Rhodians
as to the merit of Piotogenes, and made them get the picture
Apelles hiid bought out of his hands, paying down a much
greater ])rice for it than he had given.

Pliiiij also informs us that Protogenes was a Sculptor as well
as a Painter. He flourished about the 1 ISth Olympiad, and
308 years before Ciirist. Quintilian, observing the talents of
six famous painters, says, Protogenes QxcaWeAm exactness,
Pampliilus and Melun/lms in the disposition, Anfiphilus in
easiness, T/ieon the Samia;i in fruitfniness of ideas, and Apel^
les in grace and ingenious conceptions.

Pyrgoteles, a famous Kngraver of precious stones ; co-
temporary with Lysippus; had also an exclusive privilege of
representing Alexander.

Pyromachus, Sculptor, of Pcrgavius.

Pythagoras,

List oe ancient artists. 1)9

Pythagoras, of Rheglo, cir. OlyiDp. 87, treated hair with
^reat nicety and freedom.

Pythias, Sculptor. Olynip. 155.

Pythocles, Sculptor. Olymp. 155.

Pythodotqs, of Corinth. Olynip. 47.

SATYRiuSjin Kgypt, under Ptolemy, Kngraver in crystal.

ScYLLis and Dipoene, established the Sicyonian school.

Scop AS, of the isle of Pares, said to have decorated part of
the tomb of MausoLus : this tact uncertain; as he must have
been extremely old. Olymp. 87. Pliny mentions in the chapel
•of Cn. Domitius in the circus of FJaminius, Neplune, Thetis,
aird her son Achilles ; the sea-nymphs, or nereids, mounted
upon dolphins, whales, and sea-horses; the tritons, with all
the choir, attending upon PAo/rw^ a sea-god ; and the mighty
fishes called Prisles, besides many other monsters of the sea ;
all of them wrought by him so curiously, that had he been
occupied in making them all his life-time, and done nothing
else, a man would have thought it work enough.

SiMOK, of Egina, before the expedition of Xerxes.

Smilis of Kgina,son of Euclidus: one of the most ancient
of Sculptors : he worked in wood.

Socrates and Aristomedes. Olymp. 71 to 73.

So:DAS;Cir. Olymp. 95, of Naupactos.

SoMis, before the battle of Marathon.

Sosus, of i^ergamus, excellent in Mosaic works.

Stephaxus, Sculptor, famous for figures on horseback.

Stomius, before the battle of Maratiion.

Stratonicus, of Pergamus.

Syadras, of Lacedemon. Olymp. 60.

Tauriscus and Appolonius, authors of the Farnese Bull,

Tecteus, discipleof Z>//Ja?«f and&^///5; di%i\stedAngelion.
Sculptor.

Telephanes of Sicyon, supposed to have improved the
Art of Painiing greativ.

Theodorus, who made the labyrinth of Samos, cast his
own image in brass, which besides the resemblance of him-
self, was embellished with such other devices, that it was much
renowned : in his right hand he had a file ; in his left he
bore with three fingers a little chariot, with four horses, but
both the chariot, horses, and charioteer, were couched in so

small

120 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

imall a compass, that a little fly, which he also made with the
rest, covered all with her wings.

Theon did many pieces wherein he discovered tlie excel-
lence of his art; among the chief was that of a man with his
sword in his hand, and his shield stretched out before him,
ready prepared for the fight: his eyes seenied to sparkle with
fire, and the whole iVame arid posture of his body was repre-
sented so threatening, as of one that was intirely possessed
with a martial fury.

Theomnastes, Painter, cotemporary of Apelks.

TiMANTHEs, had an excellent genius, full of rare inven-
tion : he painted the famous picture of Jphigenia^ wherein
was represented that innocent lady standing by the altar to be
sacrificed : in this subject he painted Chakhas the priest look-
ing sad, {/{ysscs sadder, but her uncle Menclaus full of ex-
treme sorrow : having in these personages spent all the signs
whereby the pencil is able to express grief; and being yet to
exhibit her father Agamemnon, he covered his countenance
■with a veil, leaving to the imagination of the spectators, to
conceive his inexpressible grief at beholding his daughter
bathed in her blood. He painted a Cyclops lying asleep, and
little elvish Satyrs by him with their thyrsi taking measure of
one of his thumbs. But his picture of a prince was thought
to be most absolute ; the majesty whereof was such, that all
the art of painting seemed comprised in that one picture.
TiMARCHiDEs, father of Polydts and Dion\jsius, Sculptor.

I'JMOCLES, Sculptor. Olynip. \bb.

TiMOMACHus, the Byzantine, flourished in the days o{ Ju-
lius Casar, for whom he painted Ajax and Medea ; for which
pictures he paid him eighty talents, and hung them up in the
temple of J^cnus; his pieces of Orestcsiind Iphigeniaaxe much
praised ; but especially he is renowned for his Medusci's head,
which he painted in M inerva' s ^\y\e\(\. Me remained in Greece,
and did not, as many masters theii did, come to Rome to settle.

Xanthippus, son of Poljjdetes ; not equal to his father.

Zenon, of Approdisius, Sculptor. About Trajan's time.

Zemon, of Stciphrys. Cir. same time.

Zenodorus, Sculptor, time oi Ncvo. He composed a pro-
d'^iouscolossus ni Meniiri/, at Auvergnc in France; tenyears

LIST OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. 121

he was about it, and the ^vorkmansl)ip came to four hundred
thousand sesterces. Ntro sentfor him to Rome, where he cast
(as a portraitof iVe'?'o) a colossus an hundred and ten feet bi^b,
but that emperor being dead, it was dedicated to the houour
of the sun.

Zeuxis, a very famous painter, flourished about 400 years
before Christ, or about the .9 .^-th Olympiad. Tally ^ Phiii/, and
Julian, agree in aflSiniing that he was of Heracha, yet they
have not, among the numerous cities of that name, told us
the Heradca in which Zeuxis was born. Pliuij represents the
art of painting, as carried to considerable perfection by this
Painter. Some autliors relate, that he found out the manner
of disposing lights and shades ; and he is allowed to have ex-
celled in coloring. Aristotle censured as a defect in his paint-
ings,that the manners or passions were no expressed in them :
nevertheless Plimj declares the direct contrary with regard to
the picture oi Penelope; "in which Zeuxis" says he, " seems
to have painted the manners."

This painter amassed immense riches ; and once he made a
shew of them at the olympic games, wliere he appeared in a
cloak embroidered Avith gold letters expressing his name.
When he found himself thus rich, he would not sell his works
any loriger, but gave them away, and declared frankly, that
no price could be set upon them. His Helen was the picture
Avhich obtained the greatestcredit. Before he had left off selling
his Avorks, he used to make the people pay for seeing them ;
but he insisted always upon ready money for shewing his
Nele^i : " Avhlch," says yFlian, " gave occasion to the Avags
to call her Helen the courtezan." Hedid not scruple to Avrite
underneath this picture the three verses of the Iliad, in Avhich
Homer represents Priani and the venerable sages of hiscoun-
cil confessing that the Greeks and Trojans were not to blame
for having exposed themselves to so many calamities for //e-
len ; her beauty equalling that of the goddesses. It cannot
be determined, Avhether this Helen of Zeuxis be that which
he painted for the inhabitants of Crotona, to be hung up in
the temple oi' Juno : of which Cieero tells us this story. When
the people of Crotona had prevailed upon himto come among
ihem, in order to paint a numberof pictures, with which they
intended to adorn tliis temple ; he told tlieni, that he intended

Vol. IV. R part 2 to

122 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

to draw the picture of II den ; with which they 'were ex-
tremely well satisfied, knowing that his chief excellence lay
ill paintinp- women. For this purpose he desired to see the
niobt beautiful girls of their city : and the magistrates giving
orders for the maidens to assemble, that Zcuxis might choose
as he thought fit, he selected five ; and, copying t'le greatest
excellencies of each, drew from thence the picture of Helen.
These five maidens were greatly applauded by the poets,
their beauty having been preferred by him, who was justly
considered as the greatest judge of beauty; and theirnames
accordingly did not fail of being consecrated to posterity,
although they are not now to be found.

Many curious particulars are recorded of thispainter beside
his dispute with J'urrhasiiis for the prize in painting. He
painted a boy loaded with grapes, when the birds flew again
to this picture; at which he was vexed; and frankly confessed,
that it Avas not sufficiently finished ; since, had he painted the
bov as perfectly as the grapes, the birds would have been afraid
of him. Archdaus^ king of JNIacedon, made use of Zeuxi^
pencilfor the embellishment of his house ; upon which Socrates
made this reflection, as it is preserved by yJLlian. *' Archdaus^''
said he, " has laid outa vast sum of money upon his house, but
nothing upon himself: whence it is that numbers come from
all parts of the world to see his house, but none to see him ;
except those who are tempted by his money and presents, and
who will not be found among the worthiest of men."

One oi Znivii s^XiQ.'it pieces was a Hercules strangling some
dragons in his cradle, in the presence of his frighted mother :
but he himself esteemed chiefly his Athleta or Champion,
under which he made a verse that became afterwards famous,
viz. " that it would be easier to envy, than to imitate that
picture." It is probable, that he valued his Alcmena^ since he
presented it to the Agrigentines. Fie did not set up for a
swift painter : he used to say to those who reproaciied him
■with slowness, that " he was indeed a long time in painting,
but that it was also to last a long time." We are told that
2euxis, having painted an old woman, laughed so heartily at
the sight of this picture, that he died. This circumstance is
related by Virrius Flaccus, under the word Pu/or; but is pro-
bably fabulous.

ZoPYRus, time of Pompcjj.

LIST

PLATES OF ANCIENT ARTJSTS. 12

LIST OF PLATES,

BELONGING TO THE HISTORY OF ANCIENT ART.

PLATE I.

StJpposED Progress of Sculpture.

This Plate endeavours to shew, from actually existing mo-
numents, somethinicy of what may be supposed as the course
of improvements, and additions, made in sculptures of tlie hu-
man figure.

No. I. — Is a mummy, entirely void of hands and feet, or

any parts; and were it not for the head, and its dress, little

superior, as a representation, to a simple stone. It is in Mont-

faucoiUs Antiquite Expliquee, Pi. cxii. T. ii. fig. 1. From

Bonnani.

No. II. — Is also a mummy ; hut being an attempt at more
explicit designation, this has hands, perhaps for the purpose
of holding somewhat of the nature of a symbol.

No. III. — This mummy has no arms; but the attempt at a
disjunction of the legs is very evident ; and forms another step
towards a figure. Montfaucoii, PI. cxi. T. ii. fig. 6.

No. IV. — Is a kind of drapery mummy; this shews the
dress, and somewhat of the foldings of the drapery ; though
certainly to no advantage.

No. V. — Is an instance of Avhat is called a term : and is
much posterior in its idea to the former. The feet are expli-
cit, and well determined ; and it has more the appearance of
a person holding before him a tablet for inscriptions, than of a
mummy: notwithstanding the arm^^ and front of the body are
concealed by the tablet.

No. VI. — A TERM of another kind: the places where the
arms are to be added, very evident; this terna might receive

M 2 the

124 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

the addition of arms, on occasion, but not legs. From the
Aniiqtddis of Htyculancum, Vol. iii. p. 180.

No. VI f. — An Egyptian advance toward a figure ; the atti-
tude of the arms as indicated under the drapery ; and the
hands hold each of them a symbol.

No. VIII. — An elcfiant term : of a kind long in use.
Tliis is inscribed as a j)o)trait of Elia Patrcphila : this kind
of term is (occasionally) as useful and beautiful as a statue ;
and by no means so expensive, nor so liable to injury. In a
garden, walks, ccc. they have a very good effect. Fiom the
Museum Capitol Inum (at Rome.)

j>y;o_ JX. — A term Ilercuhs : a variation from the former,
vet preserving the same idea: and Ijolding as a symbol the
head of liie lion, in whose skin the figure is clothed. From
the Muscuvi Copitolinum.

The first row of these figures may well be called dead r
for tiiough different in <ome things, they agree in having nei-
ther life, nor motion : they may bring to remembrance Egyp-
tian deceased ancestors.

The second row of figures shews that art has been tamper-
ing with them ; and endeavoring to render them subservient
to its purposes of embellishment, perhaps of utility.

The third row of figures shews the success of art : that
liowever unpromising its first essays might be, yet genius and
application liave surmounted their difficulties, and produced
works of merit and elegance.

PLATE. II.

FLAXES OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. 125

PLATE If.

Egyptian Sculpture.

. The former plate shewed at most half-figures, or an ap-
proach to a figure, this plate oflPers an idea of the progress of
a Avhole figure; and shews how succeeding artists ti'eated the
same subject, according to the art of their times.

No. I. — Is the profile view of an undoubted Egyptian fio-ure,
in which we remark its almost perpendicular uprightness ; the
union of its legs, tiie downright position of its arms, and the
unanimated direction of its countenance. This figure however,
being in the character of an attendant on another statue, re-
presenting its superior in rank, might, possibly, be supposed
to preserve the posture of respect and reverence, if such at-
titudes wert; not altogether Egyptian. From the plates of
Norden's Designs in Egypt: it is marked (a) in No. V. and
is an attendant on the seat of one of the colossal statues now
standing near Carnac i the ancient Thebes : not far from the
palace and sounding statue of Memnon.

No. II. — In this Number the .Artist was under the necessity
of giving some action to his figure, to enable her to hold the
staff; but he has been, as it were, reluctant, and as sparing
as possible, of every thing like motion. The hand not em-
ployed, hangs down, with perfect stiflfness ; the hand which
projects, projects at right angles, no less stiff; the drapery is
motionless also. It is from the famous Isiac Table now at
Florence.

No. III. — Is a side view of a very capital Egyptian statue,
■whose proportions andexecutiondemonstratea masterlyband :
which yet has preserved the same prmciples of attitude as
former figures, with but little variation. It is true this figure
has some pliancy in its body, its head is less stiff, its arms not
quite so downright, and its legs better placed; 5'et perhaps
these were regarded as liberties ; notwithstanding the artist
made the figure as stiff and antiquated as his genius and bet-
ter skill would suffer him.

126 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

It is worth while just to observe the situation of the feet in
these three figures: in the first, they are perfectly parallel ;
in the second, one foot is about half a foot's distance behind the
other ; in the third, one foot is about the whole length of a
foot behind the other. Perhaps there is scarcely any truly
Egyptian figure in which this distance is exceeded. 1 he
original figure is at Rome.

No. IV. — Is a front view of the same figure as No. III. it
was probably meant to stand with its back against a wall, ra-
ther than in a niche. It is taken for the Fgyptian God Avcr-
rtincus; and has an hieroglyphic inscription on its girdle:
which determines it tobeofconsiderabieantiquity ; otherwise,
its merit might refer it to some Greco-Egyptian master.

No. V. -tA specimen of P^gyptian sitting figures ; in which
the parallelism of the parts is striking : the legs are parallel,
the thighs parallel, the arms, the shoulders parallel : yet this
was a great work ; and must have cost the labour of much
time. It is one of the colossal figures (50 feet high) sitting
near the palace of Memnoiiy near the ancient Thebes, in
Egypt : it is greatly ruined by time.

No. VI.— Another Egyptian sitting figure ; representing
the goddess Isis in the act (as I suppose) of blessing her wor-
shippers : in this figure is action, no doubt, but the action
has little pretensions to grace and dignity. From the Isiac
Table : this is the centre and principal figure.

No. VII. — Another Is is in her full dress ; as ready for re-
ceiving worship. Accordingto the usage of sculptures repre-
senting Egyptian female figures, this has one hand on her bo-
som; the other hanging down, perhaps holding some part of
her drapery; but the whole certainly not many degrees ad-
vanced toward animation. The original is at Home. Vidt^
Montjaucon, PI. cvii. T. ii. fig. 2, 3.

No. Vlll. — Is an Is(s of Italian workmanship ; which, be-
ing erected in the temple of Isis at Pompeii (overwhelmed by
a volcanic eruption about A.D. 19.) at such a distance from
Egypt, and so late in time, the artist has availed himself of
those liberties which time and place permitted in favor of his
art. It is probable thatthough art has gained, religion, strictly
speaking, mightbeconsidereil as having lost by the difibrence;
and that a more exact transcript of the primitive statues, would

have

PLATES OF ANCIENT ARTISTS. I'ST

have been thought more correct, and more sacred, by those
skilled in such matters; which, perhaps, happily for the artist,
"vvas the case of few, or none, at Poynpeii ; the priest excepted,
who seems to have practised the rites of his worship as used in
Egypt, and who died in his duty, (within his sacred precincts
at least) unmoved by the destruction of his idol and his temple.
From this figure, the artist has discarded all the preposter-
ous though typical head-dress of Jsis, as being utterly inca*
pable of beauty, and has bound her hair in a simple fillet
only, but he has been obliged to preserve the down-hanging
arm, which graceless position he has disguised by placing the
sacred water vase in that hand ; he has also been obliged to
elevate the other hand, level with the elbow, therefore into
this hand he has put another sacred symbol ; he has also been
forced to dress her in a simple muslin robe, but this he hat
thrown into folds, according to the course of the parts; he
has also been forbid to move one foot too much before the
other, but by covering the hinder foot by the drapery, this
rule is preserved, yet variety obtained. In fact, this figure
is at once according to rule and according to art: at once
like and unlike, to No. II, above it : of which it is in one
sense a copy, lint certainly in every sense, a distant copy.
The original is in the king of Naples's collection oiHerculO'
neum Antiquities.

PLATES

12S X CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

PLATES III. & IV.

As I have never seen representations of Egyptian Paint-
ings which might be depejuied on us accurate, I am under
the necessity of referring to those copies and imitations which
have been so happily recovered from the ruins oi' Ilerculantiim:
these are in every probahihty Greek performances, and only
copied by the painter as near as his better sense of art would
let him. It is true the figureshave no great motion, but they
have more than a truly Egyptian picture ought to have ; at
least in sacred subjects, such as these : the feet are too distant
from each other, the hands liang down, but not precisely on
the body; or they are stretched out, but not at right angles.
Those of the first plate are, indeed, stiffer than those of the
second ; for in the latter there is in fact a kind of freedom, and
vivacity, which shews a mixture of better art ; and that grace-
ful conceptions were not \inknown to the author. Thev are
selected from the Ant'ujuitics of lltrcidancum, Vol. iv. PJates
69, 70.

It is curious to observe the colours of these figures, which
therefore I translate.

A. Of this figure the cap is green, its ornaments yellow ;
as also the lappet which falls on the shoulder : that which falls
behind is whiti.h; as is also the sleeve, with red stripes.
The whole dress from the breast to the waist is blue ; the flap
is yellow ; the rest which covers the thigh is green, with yel-
low stripes ; the naked of the thigh and leg is red ; as are
also the left arm, and hand, which holds a yellow disc, with
something on it not distinguishable. The face and right arm
ai'e white.

B. Is damaged in the original picture: it is therefore partly
composed by the help of another. The right hand and arm,
with which it holds (perhaps a sistrum) are yellow ; as also
that leg : the girdle is white j the rest of the habit blue. The
left hand and arm are white.

C. has all the naked of the face, arms, hands, legs, and feet,
blue: the covering of the head, and the whole dress, is red
in the shades, and yellow in the liuhts ; what he holds \f\ his

left

PLATES OF ANCIENT ART. 129

left liaiul is yellow: also what he has in his right hand: but
neither is distinguishable.

D. has the countenance and neck white ; also the left arm,
and leg. The cap on his head is red, its ornament yellow ;
the lappet which falls from his head to his shoulder is green
striped with 3-elIow. The vest has four cross stripes; the
first red, the second yellow, the tiiird light red, the fourth
p-reen ; and green is the interior border of the same.

The long stripe on the breast, and the two at the neck are
red ; the whole light part to the girdle is white : the narrow
band which descends before, is yellow: the ornaments on it,
red. The piece which covers the breech is red, the rest of
the dress is green, with yellow stripes. The right arm and
leg are blue. The sistrum and bucket are yellow.

E. The seat is yellow. Of the head-dress the ground is
red, the ornaments yellow. The hair (if it be hair) yellow
also. The lappets from the head to the shoulder are white j
that part of the dress which covers the right arm to the el-
bow is blue ; as also that behind. The piece Avhich covers
part of the thigh is red ; as also, that which covers the left
arm to the elbow. The rest of the habit is red, except the
flap, or apron, which is yellow. The countenance, the
naked of the right arm and hand, and right foot, is white,
the naked of the left arm, hand, leg and foot, is blue. The
staflP is yellow.

F. The seat is green, the ornaments, yellow. The coun-
tenance^ and all the naked of the left part is wliite. The
cap is green, with yellow ornaments: tl>e hair, yellov.r : the
dress which covers the lefr arm to the eil)Ow, green, with
yellow ornaments: the piece wh.ch covers the breech is
yellow also, the flap is white. The rest of the habit red. —
The right hand, arm, and iep-, are blue.

It is likely onlv symbolical subjects were thus unnaturally
treated : but while such cnstonis were tolerated m any ^.ub-
jects, the art of colouring could not llounsh. For the rest,
the remarks already made on the statues may suflice in legard
to these pictures: as nio-t probably the progress of the / rts
was much ttie Scime, as well in regard to period and time, as
to manner and exei-ut.on. T he same vv«''rkott'ersa few ».^:p-
tian views, &c. of confused composition, but clear enact.

Vol. IV. S part 2 PLATE

130 PLATES OF ANCIENT ART.

PLATE V.

With intention to communicate to our readers a more cor-
rect idea than can otiierwise be obtained, we liere offer them in

No. I. — An ELEvATip^i of the Antonine Column, where-
in the disposition of the windows, their position in tlie spiral
line which runs round it, the ornampnts of the Capital, the
gallery, and the figure, are all worthy of attention.

No. II. — A SECTION of this column : whereby the inter-
nal structure of it, tlie course of its winding ascent, and the
disposition of its windows, may be remarked; they appear to
be placed on opposite sides ; and though small on the out-
side, the less to disturb, and interfere with, the ornamental
figures, yet they are enlarged within, and by widening con-
tribute to disperse the light which they admit.

No. III. — As the idea of an historipal column has been
adopted here, in the instance of the Monument at London,
(which pillar is fluted, not enriched with figqrps, in the
shaft) we have thought it might be acceptable to shew the
proportions of these columns to each other by the three lines
in the centre of this plate, A. B.C.

A, is the height of the Trajam Column : about 145 feet
from the level of the pavement.

B, is the height of the Monument at London. Avhich is
202 feet from the pavement.

C, is the height of tlie Antonine Column, about 16Q
feet from the pavempnt.

PYRAMIDS OF EGYPT.

As the Pyramids of Egypt are undoubtedly among the
most ancient instances of the art of building, \Te have endea-
voured in the following plate to convey as distinct ideas as
possible of their disposition and construction.

'I'he lower compartment on the plate annexed, shews their
relative situations, and so much as remains of the temples,
and other accompaniments, around them, bv consideration of
which, their original design may be the better ascertained.

As I conceive that the expression in Herodotus, " pyrotnis
after pyromis^'' means a great man after a great man ; so I
suppose the Egyptian word /77/;y/w/? was a i^opular expression
adecjuate to the " great work" or building: which name they
still retain. — Might they not in some respect resemble our ca-
thedral churches ?

PLATE

PLATES OF ANCIENT ART. ISl

PLATE VI.

It appears, that in front of the great pyramid, arc three
smaller ones, on a line before it, corresponding perfectly to
its front, and to the terniinatian of the causeway (well built
of stone) which leads to it ; this caiisewa}^, therefore, seems
to have served as an avenue to the smaller pyramids, as these
smaller pyramid.* stem to be attendants on the larger. In
front of the second pyramid, almost adjacent, is a temple,
now ruined, and further off in front are tAvo small pyramids,
on a line with the former small pyramids ; if there were for-
merly other sniiill pyramids between tliem, tljis great pyra-
mid would also have its attendarit smaller ones, l^o the third
pyramid is a temple with a straight cansewa'; serving as an
avenue. It seems clear therefore, tliat these great pyramids
were not built as temples, since temples {i.e. wJierein to wor-
ship,) arc built befon; them; that they were sepulchres is a
general opinion, and the lomb within one of them which is
opened, demonstrates it 5 but accounts say they were aedi-
cated to the sun ; and so I suppose they were. My idea is,
that they were built in honor of OstRis, who after his death
was figuratively transferred to the sun : and the princes who
built them, wished also to }>e buried in them, as the founders
of our churches now do. It is hkely also, the same princes
endowed the ten^ples with proper incomes, (as is usual now
in foreign countries) and were pleased with the thouo-ht of
sleeping where they might almost be thought to share the
worship. The Sphynx is between thetv/o causeways, and di-
rectly in front of the second pyramid. As it is not absolutely
certain what <irp the materials of the solid part of these build-
ings, it is possible they may be jiretty much cased with stone,
and their unernal solid be brick; or like that of Caius Ces-
Tius at Rome : or the internal structure of the Sepulchre of
Cecilia Metella; if this could be determined, it might
countenance the assertion of Josephus that these are the
works of the Israelites; who"^ might make the brick, while
the Egyptians were the builders and masons. A few leao-ues
higher up are several, not much less ancient, made of brick
only. It is related that the Pharoah who built this pyramid
never was buried in it: was that truly because of his unfor-
timate end in the red sea ? a circumstance which the Egyp-
tian priests would not be forward to communicate to "fo-
reijrners.

No. I. is the plan of the great pyramid ; shewing the di-
rection of the passage and the central situation of the cham-
ber.

No. II.

1S2 fLATES OF ANCIENT AIlT.

No, II- is a section of tlje great pyramid; shewing tlie
acclivity of the passage, and the situation of the two cham-
bers; also the direction of a passage, Avhich runs to below
the pyramid, but for what use is not known.

PLATE VII.

View of the Pyramids near Memphis in Egypt.

The principal pyramids are south-east of Gize, a villagt^
three hours' voyage up the Nile from Cairo, and situated on
the western shore. As it is believed that the city of MerU'
■phis was near this place, they are commonly called the pyra-
mids of Memphis. Four of these pyramids deserve the great-
est attention : there are seven or eight others in the neigh-
bourhood, but not to be compared with the former, being al-
most entirely ruined. The four principal are nearly on the
same diagonal line, about 400 paces distant from each other.
Their four faces exactly correspond to the four cardinal points,
the north, the south, the east, and the west. The two most
northerly are the greatest, and have 500 feet perpendicular
height, and according to Mr. Greenes, who measured the
bottom of the first, it is exactly 693 English feet square; and
therefore covers something more than eleven acres ; the in-
clined plane is equal to the base, and the angles and base form
an equilateral triangle. The number of steps has been very
differently related ; but they are between 207 and 212. —
These steps are from two feet and a half to four feet high, and
are broad in proportion to their height. But though the
other pyramids are much less, they have some particularities,
that cause them to be examined and admired. It appears
that the rock at the foot of the mountains not being ever}-
wherc level, has been smoothed by the chissel. This rocky
plain is about 80 feet perpendicular above the level of the
ground, that is always overflowed by the Nile, and is a
league in circumference.

'I'he most northern of these great pyramids is the only one
that is open ; it is necessary to be very near it, in order to
form a just idea of its enormous bulk. The external part ix
chieHy built of great square stones cut from the rock, which
extends along i\\e Nile, in Upper Kgypt, where to this day
we see the caves from whence they have been taken. The
siiie of the stones is not equal.

end of part I.

A CONCISE

HISTORY OF THE ARTS OF DESIGN.

PART THE SECOND.

X HE vicissitude of human events has been a constant
theme of declamation ever since their records have been
collected : the history of ages is a history of revolutions ;
the natural periods of seasons and times, change not
more certainly than the relative situations and the
manners of man. Hence, as the page of information
opens to our view, we see mankind at one time bask-
ing in peace, at another writhing in the agonies of
war ; in quiet and repose now, and now trembling for
the fate of their country, of their connections, of them-
selves. Opinions also change ; and fashions, and
studies j learning and ignorance change also; what
heretofore was contemned, gradually rises into esteem 3
or, what formerly commanded esteem, silently sjnks
into contempt. No wonder then, if Art also rise and
fall ; if it now shine with brilliancy, and be crowned
Vol. IV. A part 2. with

/ .

2 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

with honours, be favorite with both prince and people,
be thought ahnost divine, and share a part ot the re-
verence meant to the deities it represents: — Anon, the
scene changes ; what was half reverenced as divine, is
ruined as mischievous ; what was favorite is forsaken,
what was resplendent is extinct : no lonp-er the statue
breathes, or the pictured figure glows with life: ob-
livion draws her shroud over the delights of science and
the wonders of Art,

" And midnight, universal midnight reigns."

But if night succeeds day, day also succeeds night ;
another morn rises on the expectant sight, dawning
light again streaks the horizun ; Art, with renovated
vigour, disperses the shadows of darkness, diffuses
warmth and radiance, and rouses into exercise and ex-
ultation the re-aw akened talents of the human mind ;
the re-invigorated efforts of intelligent taste. Urged
now by emulation, and directed by judgment, the de-
licacies of skill and the sallFes of genius again challenge
applause, and provoke competition; again receive their
rev^ard in the largess of munificence, and the palm of
victory.

To trace the history of such events is a pleasing em-
ployment; it expands and improves the mind, it al-
most antedates our existence, it almost enables us to
pry into futurity. Whoever is well informed of the
past, may somewhat more than conjecture of the fu-
ture, and reflecting on the character of ages whose
course he has surveyed, may anticipate the description
of those appointed to future generations.

In the progress ot our former remarks, we saw cities
founded and ruined : their memories preserved only in
their names. Nineveh, and Babylon, crouded once —
3jad then a blank: vvc saw the PiiARAOiis laboring

into

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART, 3

into mountainous magnificence, temples, palaces, py-
ramids; and the Caesars lavishing decorations on edi*
fices— which we now trace by the ruins of their ex-
posed foundations.

The Roman empire was a huge fabric, whose weight
insured its fall; but by being divided into parts, that
fall was somewhat less injurious than it might have been :
for though both pans fell, yet as they fell not at the
same time, eich occasionally afforded an asylum to
those who fled from impending ruin.

Rome had been the seat of empire for ages; but
CoNSTANTiNE rcmovcd the seat of empire from Rome
to Byzantium, which he augmented, and called i.on-
stanfiiwpk: hence it was that Greece and Italy changed
characters; Italy by degrees from having been sove-
reign became a province; and Greece from having
been a province, became sovereign.

But, we n.ust not pass over the change which pre-
viously had taken place in no small portion of the pub-
lic mind by the introduction of Christianity, and its ex-
tensive progress: and we are the rather interested in
this circumstance, because we have formerly seen a
great proportion of the labors and talents of Art de-
voted to the embellishment of temples, to the repre-
sentations of deities, and to the decoration of offering's
at their shrines ; from all which customs Christianity
was utterly averse.

That religion which placed duty rather in the devo-
tion of the heart, than in the pomp of worship, and
which inculcated rather internal holiness than external
ceremony, couid have little demand for sumptuous
edifices, could create little competition in magnihcence
and pomp. Its edifices were simple ; and simple
was all the Architecture it required: being a graft
from the Jewish nation, which abominated images, it

A 2 was

4 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

was no promoter of Sculpture; and being at first cm-
braced ratlier bv those of the middle ranks of life than
by the rich, their expences were not likely to include
picturc^s, even had they wished tor them.

So tar as religion was concerned, Ciiristianity was no
assistant to Art: and in civil life, if it did not forbid
the introduction of ornament, it certainly moderated
that excess which had prevailed ; it stood aloof irom
the indecorus extravagance of the theatre, and it ab-
horred the sanguinary pastimes of the arena. Its in-
fluence was favorable to elegance — rather simple than
superb: ana it much more resembled the stable pillar
of the manly Doric, than the frittered shaft of the gaudy
Composite.

CoNSTANTiNE was ihe firs^ emperor who prolessed
Christianity; he kept the empire in peace; and by
protecting the arts, he maintained, if he did not exalt
them; he engaged their assistance in his new city; so
far he favored them, and prolonged their services,
though he did not increase their merit.

Julian the Apostate succeeded his uncle Constan-
tine; and vehemently endeavoured to revive Pa-
g?.rism : he built, or he decorated, the temples, and
he tried to restore them to their importance, but a short
reign rendered his designs abortive.

Valentinian was an excellent prince; and Tiilo-
Dosius the Great, was a successful defender of the
empire against it's foes ; but the monuments of Art in
his reign, now remaining, are little estimable. Alter
his death, the wer.tcrn empir; suflered under the suc-
cessive ravages of Alaric king of the Goths, who
burnt and plundered Rome: tiien after a short period,
of Attila the Hun, who invaded Italy; and, ere
the country could recover from this" calamity, of
Genseric the Vandal, who pillaged Rome, and

carried

A COKCTSE HISTORY OF ART. 5

carried many thousands of its inhabitants slaves into
Africa. Elevations and depositions chaiacterize suc-
ceeding times, till the empire which had begun in Au-
gustus, ended in Augusiulus.

Justinian, emperor of the East, by his general
Bhlisarius saved Rome from total destruction j but
after a pillage of forty days by ToniLA, little va-
luable could be expected to remain. I'o the Goths
succeeded the Lombards; and to the Lombards the
Papal power, as sovereign over some of the finest
provinces of Italy.

Beside personal ambition, one great inducement of
the popes to sha'<.e off their dependence on the eastern
emperors (who had always some share of Italy, and
occasionally much sway m its allairs) was their declar-
ing against the worship of images ; for this superstition
had been found advantageous by the popes, and its sup-
port was connected with their authority in other eccle-
siastical matters, which had repeatedly been controvert-
ed by the Greek church. The popes, however, estab-
lishing their dominion by the assistance of Chaple-
magne, henceforth became sovereign princes over a
considerable part of Italy.

It might have been thought, that when the popes
established the worship of images, they would have at-
tended to somewhat of excellence in their Sculpture;
but no such fact appears: Sculpture was neither estab-
lished, nor improved, though the chissel exhausted itself
in labour on wood and on stone.

Italy was long a prey to barbarous nations, and in-
volved in superstition and ignorance ; was governed hj
powers which were themselves unsettled, and which, in
consequence, were more mindful of the arts of the po-
litician than of those which originate in talent and taste.

L^nsettled times, are times of distress ; of adventure,
of heroism, perhaps, but not of Art. AVhen the study

6 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

of nations is war, learning must retire to its cell ;
there, it may produce some liberal spirits who sigh for
better times, who peruse the memoirs of past ages,
or who inspect the remains of former masters, but
their powers are restricted to barren wishes, and their
efforts, if they advance to effort, are impotent, be-
cause unassisted by patrons of congenial spint. Such
is the description of a long blank in the history of Art
in Italy. Pomp, but devoid of taste, riches, but misap-
plied, labour, but withoutskill, and ornament, but with-
out regularity. The correct principles of p.r>cient Art
first suffered by the capricious innovations of extrava-
gant liberties, (of these Vi truvius complains even
in his time) fancy took the lead of judgment; sym-
metTy was banished; and imagination, unrestrained,
enervated those sentiments which should have been
directors, and thereby made v/av for the ii trod action of
a mode and style of Art, (I mean the Gothic) abso-
lutely contradictory to what had been esteemed when
Art was in its glory.

There can be no doubt that the first edifices for wor-
ship, which were occupied by christian cliurches, were
simple rooms, in such houses as could conveniently
admit of such assemblies; and, it is probable, that
the early churches rarely consisted ol greater numbers
than could be easily accommodated by rooms of no
very extraordinary dimensions; but when in succeed-
ing times, congregations became numerous, certiiin
pastors were much followed, or converts trom the
neighbourhood encreased the assembly, it is natural to
suppose that what apartments formerly were sufficiently
capacious, would now be thought narrow and incon-
venient. Add to this, the probable accession of wealth,
as this religion became more established, and in some
places, and during some periods, the security enjoyed

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 7

by its professors, and it will seem every way natural
to imagine, that places for public worship became of
more importance, and were regarded with greater at-
tention, than before.

It is indeed true, that many persecutions afflicted
the christian church ; but rarely were these equally
malignant throughout a long time ; and, perhaps, not
universal at any time. Vv'e are also certain, that the
christian clergy were occasionally held in esteem, and
that public persons, bishops, &;c. were well known,
and sometimes equally honored, even by the heathen.
But it could not be, till the time of Constantine, tha^
any edifice sacred to christian worship could be
ornamental, much less sumptuous; and conse-
quently none such could require the abilities of emi-
nent Art.

Constantine not onJy stopped persecution, but
he encouraged the profession of Christianity, and he
built several churches ; most of these, however, were
in a great measure formed on the model of the existing
temples, varied perhaps by some of the principles, re-
ceived togetlier with Christianity, from the Jewish
worship : but there were also some whose plan, instead
of being square, or round, (as the heathen temples
were) was that of a cross, (the short or Greek cross).
The most considerable of these, w^as that he erected in'
his new city of Constantinople, the church of Sancta
Sophia. This edifice did not long subsist. It was re-
built by Constantius, his son ; and again it was un-
fortunate J again destroyed in part, and repaired
by Arcadius ; it was again burirt under Honorius;
and it was re-instated by Theodosius the younger.
It W3s once more reduced to ashes in a furious sedi-
tion, in the time of Justinian. This emperor, de-
sirous of signalizing his reign by a magnificent struc-
ture.

8 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

ture, assembled the most famous architects from all
parts, to the number of several hundreds.

To Anthemius of Thralles, and to Isidorus of
Miletus, Justinian committed the construction of
his new edifice; these architects, alarmed by past
events, determined to erect a building of extensive di-
mensions, and at the same time proof against destruc-
tion by fire, and therefore they employed no combus-
tible materials in its fabrication : they were restricted to
the general figure of their edifice, by its requisite re-
semblance to a cross, in its plan ; but, they resolved to
adopt a roof of a new form and construction, and to
cover the centre of this church by a dome. As this
was an idea hitherto unattempted, they experienced
sundry accidents before it Vvas completed; owing
chiefly to the great weight they had to sustain, and to
the roimd form of the dome, wliose foundation was the
square \)\c\s \orrp.e(\ by the angles at the meeting of the
members ot the cross : at length however they succeed-
ed; and completed the whole. This disposition was
esteemed so beautiful, that it has been imitated in suc-
ceeding edifices in various parts of Europe. In fact,
the interior of this building (now a Turkish mosque)
is solemn, and striking, and the Emperor Justinian
is considered as pardonable, in his joytul exclamation,
** 1 have surpassed thee, Solomon."

It is not to be concluded from hence, that Sancla
Sophia is a perfect piece ot Architecture; former mas-
ters would have composed and finished many of its parts
much better: but it was new, and striking, and solemn.
Its reputation was bO high, that the construction of its
dome notwithstanding its difficulty was imitat;j^d at
Venice in the church of St. Mark, by an Ar-
chitect fetched expressly by the doge from Constanti-
nople.

The

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 9

The great dome of St. Mary oj Flowers at Flo-
rence, built in the beginning of the fifteenth century by
l*HiLLiPo Brunelleschi, is a remarkable instance
of difficulty overcome ; this church was begun by Ar-
KOLFO Lappi, according to the rules of Gothic con-
struction ; after his death it remained unfinished, more
than a century, till Brunellesciii undertook and
completed it. When he first proposed a dome, it was
looked on as a thing only to be accomplished by ma-
gic. It was particularly studied by Michael Angelo
when undertaking that of St. Peters, at Rome; this
master declared, " that just such an one he would not
make, and a better he could not make."

Ihe dome of the church of the Augustins, at Rome
(1483,) is one of the completest of the kind; and
indeed is the earliest that is truly a circular dome rest-
ing on square foundations. It was constructed above
twenty years before Pope Julio II. directed the re-
buildimr of *.S'/. Peter's at Rome: and the architects em-
ployed in that immense building, took for their model
this church of the Augustins when they determined on
a dome of prodigious dimensions as a part of their new
edifice.

Bramante was the first architect employed on St.
Peter's: his model is in the Vatican ; and is so large as
to admit persons inside it: after his death, the design
was altered b} Raffaelle Urbin, San Gallo, and
others, in several parts. Michael Angelo Buona-
ROTTi brought it to the form of a Greek cross; it was
prolonged to the form of a Latin cross by the cavalier
Fontana, Carlo Maderna, and others, who con-
tinued the order adopted by Michael Angelo. The
dome and its appurtenances are by Michael Angelo ;
but that he was neither the inventor, nor first construc-
tor of domes, (though often said to be) is evident from
their history already given.

Vol. IV. B pari 2 The

10 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

The Greek cross differing from the Latin cross (this
latter being longer at the bottom) was thought improper
for the metropolitan cathedral of the Latin church ; and
therefore an addition was made to this building in front ;
projecting from whence the small towers stand on each
side the roof. These small towers are little (if at all)
seen in approaching this church; so that the whole
front seems bounded at top by one straight line, not
diversified by pediment, or other ornament, except
statues. To remedy this unfinished appearance, the
cavalier Bernini proposed to erect two towers; but
their weight forbad their execution, and, it is said, the
attempt injured the main building.

The figure of a dome lias also been adopted in
sundry capital buildings, but in none with more suc-
cess than in St. Paul's, at London: which in point of
construction, may be justly esteemed the completcst
instance of the kind.

While we are on the subject of churches, we may
hint, that the Spire is a form of building unknown to
ancient Art ; though now an ordinary and regular ter-
mination of most parish churches. The reason of its
adoption is not easy to assign ; it may have originated
from the pyramidal form, and thereby have marked out
a place of sepulture; or it may have been a gradual
descendant of the numerous imitations made from the
churches (especially that of the Hobj Sepulchre) at
Jerusalem. The progress seems to be this: as the
temple at Jerusalem had a very high portico in its front
(90 cubits says Josephus, who also says, enough to
turn a spectator giddy) so the principal church on
Mount Calvary had likewise a high portico: on this
portico were two towers; and this construction (/. e. of
towers) seems naturally to have led to a finishing by a
spire, since a tower appears like a spire broken off; and
a spire like a tower completed. Among the uses of a

tower

A COXCISE HISTORY OF ART. II

tower to a church, one was, usually, to serve as a
belfry : but no such use could be made of a spire, that
being both thin in construction, and slender in dimen-
sions. Spires were also sometimes of very great height.
The spire of old St. PmiFs is one of the earliest we
have any account of j it was finished A. D. 1222, and
was in height 520 feet (/. e. from the ground.) lliQ
spire of Salisbury cathedral is 4U0 feet high ; that of
Strasburgh 450 feet.

Pinnacles may be regarded as lesser spires: (perhaps
not improperly termed spiracles,) and when once this
ornament became fashionable, like all others, it was
adopted throughout a prodigious range oi subjects,
whereof its first devisers had no apprehension, and to
which consequently they could have no reference.

The mention of this naturally leads to a few words
on the subject of Gothic Architecture, (wherein both
spires, and pinnacles, make a conspicuous figure)
which we have already partly proposed.

Gothic Arcliitecture differed widely in its prin-
ciples from Grecian Architecture. Its leading idea
seems to be that of elevation : it elevated its pillars,
it elevated its roofs, it elevated its towers, it elevated
its spires ; the torms of its windows, doors, and other
appurtenances were elevated. By this means it ac-
quired a solemnity, together with a lightness, which
was highly impressive. A spectator on entering a
Gothic pile, could hardly discern the roof, it was so
high ; hence he was struck with an idea of extent (to
him) almost boundless; hence also a very great pro-
])ortion of the whole (internal) of the building seen,
uas involved in shadow j to this, the prodigious num-
bers of pillars seen on all sides, contributed to impart
r'iC appearance of a solemn grove ; and thus we are,
on different principles, reminded of our original idea,

that
B2

12 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

that the solemn grove is the parent of places of wor-
ship, and to the sensations connected with that, may
be attributed our emotions of reverence, whether
arising from the orderly compositions of Greece, or
the more complex constructions of Norman Gothic.

Gothic pillars are by no means conformable to
any of the Grecian orders ; in consequence of the ge-
neral elevation of the building, these also are elevated :
they are in fact extremely tall and slimj hereby being
weakened, they are united several together, or they
are placed against, and around, a pier, which they
are designed to ornament. Not that they are con-
fined to these situations, for thev are placed in other
modes, according to the nature of the general com-
position, though these are their most frequent employ-
ments. ' "'

We have seen the Egyptians use the first of these
artifices, and unite several stems into one pillar: but
the Gothic pillars are distinct, though united, and
have each its capital and mouldings apart. Of the
pier ornamented by pillars, 1 recollect no instance in
the internal parts of any ancient temple.

As to the external part of Gothic buildings, the first
striking peculiarity is the butfress, (this is of two
kinds, the solid buttress,' and the arcltcd or fli/ing but-
tress) designed to support the extremely high walls
which compose the main building : but this is some-
times hid, by being converted into a side chapel, open-
ing inside the building, whereby the composition be-
came— a principal, or body, (/. e. the church leading up
to the choir) — and its associates, (/. ^', a number of cha-
pels on each side of the church.) This construction was
very convenient when the number of Saints was in-
creased, as theieby, beside seating an apostle, for in-
stance, in the chief place of honor, thirty or forty infe-
riors,

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 15

riors, martjrs or saints, were also commemorated at so
many separate shrines.

The roofs ot Gothic edifices were of great lieifht:,
and formed not of a sciriicircle, bat of a tall, or pointed
arch ; and all their ornaments were correspondently
pointed. In short, .these architects seem constantly to
have preferred the upright diamond form to the square,
and the upright oval to the circle, throughout the
whole of their edifices, as well in the minor decora-
tions, as in the principal parts.

I shall just mention a few of the various other forms
adopted in the construction of arches, by way of shew-
ing the variety of which this member is susceptible,
and the different tastes of different nations, or of the
same nation at diilerent times.

' -The most natural figure of an arch, seems to be that
of the scuii-circle j this was adopted by the Greeks.
The Saxons adopted semicircular arches, but, as it
were, int. rkiced them, by causing them to spring from
alternate pillars. The Moors preferred a form of the
arch whijh comprised two thirds of a circle : whence
such were used in Spain, and some other parts of
Europe; but principally in warm climates. A semi-
oval upright, or segments of this form, was sometimes
used. The horse-shoe arch is allied to that of the
Aioors. I'hat arch was once fashionable, whose top
was formed extremely sharp, by reverse sweeps, or
contrary flexions; these I conceive were of difficult
execution. Besides these kinds of arches, much flatter
ones were used, (as in bridges) where an extensive
span is required, yet the weight must be diminished as
much as possible, in favour of the piers.

As to Gothic ornaments, I shall merely refer to those
of the windows, and doors. Very large windows were

usually,

14 A COK(ilSE HISTORY OP ART.

Csually, in a manner, divided into smaller ones, by tall
arches of stone, which supported ornaments of stone
also 5 and these were completed by windows decorated
with those pannels of painted glass, v/hose colors we
so much admire. The doors of Gothic churches were
formed on a principle of recession j being wide in front,
and gradually diminishing near the building. By this
plan, a great number of pillars, and arches, and their
ornaments, were brought into view at once ; and some-
times a hundred ol saints and angels delended the
door-way. This also was frequently the form of the
windows, and here its effect is better than in the doors,
where it sometimes looks almost like a Jortification
denying admittance, or like a jury of scrutineers,
suspecting the person who enters. Gothic churches
constantly maintained the distinction between the chan-
cel and the choir: at least, this prevails among them;
especially among those built after the time ot the croi-
saders (scarce any are more ancient) who brought this
distribution from Palestine. 7\bbics, and other reli-
gious foundations, followed more or less closely, the
principles of churches.

After the revival of Grecian Art," the Gothic exter-
nal principles gave way, and were dismissed : buttresses
were omitted, pinnacles, pierced ornaments, aisles
lower than the body of the building, and projecting
chapels, were all prohibited, and succeeded by parts
generally square and uniform, by windows generally
circular in their arches, and by entrances, often direct
copies of the most famous temples of Italy, in their pil-
lars, porticoes, and pediments.

It should seem from these remarks, that our present
churches are an assemblage of different principles: often
Greek in their pillars, and ornaments; Gothic in their
lowers and spires ; Jewish in what attention is paid to

the

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. i i

the distinction of holy and most holy ; and peculiar in
the use of galleries, organ-lofts, pulpits, communion
altars, monuments for the dead, and pews. Neverthe-
less, some of them have great merit in their composition,
and distribution ; and those which cannot claim perfec-
tion altogether, may often, with great justice, boast of
many of their parts as excellent.

It remains, tliat a tribute of respect be paid to those
retirements of Art and learning, which, during the
barbarous ages, sheltered persons of so great skill as
that which we see in the Gothic churches j for we are
not to attribute to professed architects, to builders, to
masons, or to carpenters, what merit these possess, but
to the head, or principal, of the community which was
to be benefited by the erection, or to the merit of some
brotlicr selected by the society on account of his know-
ledge, to superintend such a work. When therefore it
is duly considered, that to a monk, not to a professor
of the trowel, or the axe, such fabrics generally owe
their excellence, the skill which they display, and the
wonderful knowledge in construction which they de-
monstrate, is a very honorable testimony in favour of
those degrees of sciences, and that proportion of learn-
ing, which such seminaries secluded, and by seclusion
preserved through many a stormy blast for the advant-
age of succeeding generations. The fact is, in few
words, that such of our modern architects as have stu-
died these structures, are enraptured with the skill they
display ; and freely confess their inability to surpass, or
to equal them, though surrounded by all the improve-
ments of this enlightened a^-e.

We have already hinted, that though it is genera!,
it is not just to accuse Gothic ignorance of the declen-
sion of Art. The fact is. Art had declined long be-
fore^ and true taste had been sinking into oblivion.

16 A CONCISE IIISTOHY OF ART.

at least for two or three centuries, when the irruption
of the northern hives completed (by unsettling the go-
vernments, and destroying the ornaments, of Italy,)
the ruin ot those principles vvhicii might have restored
it. The true precepts of Art once lost, perverse imi-
tations of them assumed their place ; and, as nothing is
so bad as the perversion of the best things, nothing
could be worse in point of heavy taste, tlian art now
produced. Such is the character even of the times ot
Charlemagne. The tenth and eleventh centuries
may be regarded as the date of that stvle usually called
Gothic: it lasted at leasi: five cent uries^ but in time it
varied in some of its principles, and it was at last
greatly improved, and prodigiously enriched, but it
rarely possessed regularity, and symmetry : this is its
obvious, and general fault.

The sanctity of devotional structures might perhaps
cherish a hope that they sliould escape the ravages of
barbarous invasion ; but what may screen civil erections
from such calamity ? Resistance is their only resource
fq^r security — and this idea at once excludes attention to
taste and elegance. The castle must be a fortress, not
a mansion ; it must be a massy composition of massy
walls, with crevices for windows, and steep ascents
for entrances j it must also be capacious, for the
purpose of receiving and securing not merely the
master, but his tenants and their cattle, this implies
stores and munition of no little incumbrance. In
point of situation also, it must be so placed as to sur-
vey the country around its tenantry (placed at its foot,)
not to enjoy the prospect but to discover enemies.
Better times may produce better structures ; and as
fear declines, indications of fear may disappear, the
castle may gradually dismiss its battlements, its towers,
its keep, and forget tliem in the noble hall, alive with

good

A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART. 17

good cheer, and the stately apartment furnished with
laborious magnificence. Following ages may go fur-
ther, and congratulate a lighter style of Architecture,
and more elegant decoration, while at the same time,
more hearty enjoyment, or more open hospitality they
cannot boast.

We have formerly laid it down as a maxim, that
Painting and Sculpture followed Architecture, and this
they still appear to do. It is true, that when zeal raged
most furiously in favor of statues, the statues it favored
were a disgrace to their abettors; neither were the
partizans of pictures a whit superior in point of taste
to their opponents, pictures such as they produced were
rather to be execrated than consecrated. Neverthe-
less, there always was somewhat of a demand both for
statues and pictures ; but rather in Italy than in Greece :
for the Greeks refused admission to statues (as they do
to this day) but the Latins did not entirely reject pic-
tures ; on the contrary, most, if not all, of the old
churches in Rome, were partly painted, and when
new churches were to be erected they naturally furnish-
ed employment for the pencil; together with the chis-
sel. Certain devotional subjects, also, could scarcely
fail of finding purchasers, and to what few were taken
from the bible, we must add, the many furnished by
the lives of saints, acts of founders, miracles in favor
of particular communities, ex votes, resurrection pieces,
and satires on the monks and the clergy, the regulars
and the seculars ; none of which certainly were favor-
able to the sublimities of Art. But, after all, the best
painters w^ere in the convents, and the numbers of
painted missals remaining, prove that some branches
of Art were diligently studied. Art after its revival
experienced at diflPerent times sundry favorable acci-
dents, beside that of exciting general attention ; I al-
Vol. IV. C part 2. lude

18 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

lude to the discovery, or Introduction, at least, of oil
painting; to that of Engraving ; and the distribution of
impressions ; to that of Printing, which has diffused
general knowledge ; to the institutions of Academies,
which are now in almost all great cities ; to the criti-
cisms and illustrations which the learned have constant-
ly bestowed on it; and to the discovery of capital pro-
ductions of ancient Art, almost daily, in various parts of
Italy. As one of the most remarkable of this latter
kind of good fortune, I shall include the discovery of
the city of Herculaneum, so long lost to the world,
and so happily restored in the last century.
- Art revived first in Italy, but not throughout Italy
at once; we propose therefore slightly to relate the
chief events of the various schools, which arose in that
country ; comprizing so much of their history as may
accord with our plan.

THE

THE ARTS IN ITALY. 19

THE ARTS IX FI.ORKXCK.

The trading republic of Florknx'e had the honor
of producing the illustrious Cimabue, who about the
middle of the thirteenth century received instructions
from a few Greeks fetched from Constantinople, which
he so far improved as to be justly esteemed the father
of Modern Art in the branch of Painting. Certainly
the best painters in the imperial city were but mode-
rate, at that time, and, equally certainly, those who
travelled from thence, were not the best that
citv possessed, so that the tutors of young Cima-
bue are evidently less to be considered as accessary to
the revival of Art, than his own natural genius, and
industry. Genius, when once engaged, is almost sure
to advance ; if it can also attract notice, it is thereby
enabled to surmount many difficulties. Cimabue
transmitted his skill to his scholar Ciiorxo; and
GiOTTo being sent for to Rome, and there caressed,
instructed many scholars, and spread the knowledge he
received from his master.

Among the earliest patrons of Art must be reckon-
ed the celebrated family of the Medici, at Florence.
When trade and commerce was in few hands, those
tew became immensely rich, and by their riches were
enabled to vie with many sovereign princes in mag-
nificence. Florence, it is true, was a republic, but its
counsels were swayed by individuals, and among those
individuals Cosmo de Medicis sustains an illustrious
character: he cultivated learning, encouraged learned
men, and patronized ingenuity j though not, perhaps,
so much as he would have done had not popular in-

C 2 dignities

20 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ARt.

dignities restrained his exertions within the limitations
of prudence. Lorenzo de Medicis, grandson of Cos-
mo, was at once the bulv\'ark of his house, and of the
republic ; he conducted the Florentine state with dig-
nity, and advantage, and, as in his time happened the
dispersion of learned men occasioned by the taking of
Constantinople by the Turks, he afforded them an
asylum, he purchased the manuscripts which were dis-
persed, he encourged the preservation of monuments
and Art, he commissioned some to procure them for
himself, and he maintained others during their studies
of such subjects. To him we owe Albertiy the restorer
of ancient Architecture, and in short to him we may
be said to owe the whole successive series of Flo-
rentine artists. Florence possesses a noble gallery of
capital Antiques, for which it is beholden to the family
of the Alddici, who at various times, and under various
fates, have maintained great regard tor the Arts. Flo-
rence gave birth to Michael Angelo Buonarotti;
and reckons among the ornaments ol its school, As-

DREA DEL SaRIO, FrANCESCO SaLVIATI, GiORGI Va-

SARi, JPiETRO da Cortona, zud many others ; not for-
getting the late J. B. Cipriani, who long resided in
England.

It must be mentioned that the collections formed by
the Medici were dispersed ; so that not many of their
subjects form the present gallery, nevertheless, the prin-
ciples and taste introduced by that family prevailed af-
ter their exclusion, and by the protection of the princes
who succeeded them.

THE

THE ARTS IN ITALV- 21

THE ARTS IN VENICE.

Venice was long the emporium of Europe: emerg-
ing gradually from its native islets, (peopled by those
who tied from Attila) it became great and powerful,
riches flowed into it from all parts, and with riches
magnificence. We have mentioned that its doge Zina
fetched architects from Constantinople to build the
church of St. Mark. This church is neither Greek nor
Gothic, but a mixture of both, yet for the time was a
capital structure.

A.D. 1206. The Venetian general Baldwin took
Constantinople, and brought from thence sundry va-
luable antiques ; among others the four famous horses of
bronze gilt, (said to be the work of Lysippus) which
stood in front of the ducal palace, since transferred to
Paris. 'l"nc libraries of Venice, also, preserved many
things for the inspection ot the curious ; and where it
was the fashion to bedeck the outside of houses with
pictures, no less than the inside, it may well be suppos-
ed when Art got tooting, it might prosper. As these
pictures perished by time they were often replaced by
Mosaics.

The number of families which were enriched by com-
merce, and ennobled, precludes the mention of any one
in particular as a patron of Art ; but it may be observed
tliat the state itself employed the best painters to deco-
rate its public buildings; and thereby not only furnished
employment, and exercise to Art — but also commemo-
rated public events, and impressed strangers with extra-
ordinary ideas of its greatness. It did more 3 it trans-
mitted to posterity a school of Art, which has served

for

22 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

for study to succeeding painters. Its artists excelled in
a particular branch (coloring) and no where can this be
so well studied as at Venice.

It may be concluded, that when the state decorates
its apartments, and palaces, inside and outside, and the
nobility do the same, the general taste, in consequence,
will furnish many opportunities for Art to excel, and
the natural emulation of Art will dispose it to embrace
those opportunities ; such was the character of Venice
in the fifteenth century, when the Bellims led the way
in coloring, and Giorgione and Titian followed. In
the sixteenth century the Veroneses, and others, sup-
ported the reputation of their school ; and gave that
kind of tone to the productions of the Venetian school
which they have retained ever since. I do not find that
at present Venice boasts of many artists superior to those
of other countries ; neither are their excellencies now
exclusively their own j but whoever recollects the merit
of Canaletti, Marieschi, and others, will estimate
Venetian art on an honorable scale. Venice is no lon-
ger the emporium of Europe, nor even an ii dependent
state.

ART

THE ARTS IN ITALY. 23

ART IN ROME.

The Roman school possessed many advantages over
those of other parts : Rome having been the seat of
imperial majesty, it had been highly ornamented j and
in spite of misfortune, some remembrance of such orna-
ment would remain in the minds of its inhabitants,
and more be transmitted by tradition, ready to be
called into exercise by favourable incidents. Also
some remains, though mutilated, of former excellence
being ever before their eyes, maintained a kind of
lambent disposition for Art, and furnished objects of
study ready at a moment. Add to this, learning, such
as the times afforded, was of necessity cultivated at
Rome, on account of its ecclesiastical connections ;
and whatever of wealth the church possessed, naturally
centered where the head of the church resided. But
the influence of Rome in procuring artists of renown
from their former residences, was a very considerable
reason of its early, and especially of its rapid progress
irt Art. A numerous list of artists might be produced
to confirm this remark.

The Arts were somewhat reviving at Rome before
the date of the present St. Feter^s ; but the erection
of that building was the undertaking which determined
their abode, and their rank ; this called forth Archi-
tecture, and Architecture called forth Painting, and
Sculpture. So large an edifice required many artists
to fill it with their works; and to this must be added
the Vatican, and its apartments. When the Pope was
thus magnificently lodged, the cardinals, each in his
turn, would follow his example ; hence palaces rose,

and

24 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

and when finished, required furniture proportionate to
their magnitude, or richness. Kome has many such
palaces ; some of which, indeed, have changed posses-
sors, but others have been long in the same families,
some or other of whose branches might hope to arrive
at the honors of the cardinalate.

Rome in consequence of the foregoing advantages,
has always maintained a respectable school of Art : its
masters have been allowed to excel in design ; to
which they were enabled, by their possession of the
antique statues, and buildings. This may be reckoned
the first of the advantages of the Roman school; the
works of the great Roman masters form another j and
the general tincture of criticism (so necessary to just
thinking) which obtains among its men of letters, and
which is supported by numerous books, and researches,
is by no means a trifiing addition in favor of the Ro-
man school.

Rome, however, has not ot late produced any won-
derful artists; I mean, those who not contented with
merely repeating the merits of former masters endeavor
to surpass them. It would be strange if the Art was
lost at Rome ; but where advantages are so consider-
able, we have a right to expect proportionately con-
siderable eminence.

Rome has produced some good engravers; but their
employment has been the circulation of designs from
their old masters rather than from modern pictures ;
which furnishes presumptive evidence that modern pro-
ductions are not in equal esteem with those of former
masters, by the strangers who visit Rome, or in the
countries to which such prints are exported.

ART

HISTOHY OF MOI>ERN ART. 25

ART IN BOLOGNA.

Bologna had produced very respectable artists, be-
fore the school of the Carracci commenced; yet to
these masters it has been indebted for the greater part
9^ its reputation. Francisco Francia, the earliest
of the Bolognese (considerable) masters, dates from
1450 to 1518, and Primaticcio not long after him.
Yet the merit of the Carracci has imparted a steadi-
ness to the Bolognian school, which entitles them to
the highest honor ; and, especially, as to many of the
artists produced here Rome itself is under great obliga-
tions: GuiDo, DoMENicHiNo, Lanfranc, and others,
prove this. Bologna has neither commerce, nor royalty,
to give it a pre-eminence among the Italian cities; and
therefore it is deprived of some of the most powerful
stimuli, which excite the abilities of Art. Traffic may
to a certain point excite emulation, as emulation may
be excited by the hope of patronage ; but if both traffic
and patronage be wanting, genius may produce excel-
lence almost in vain, or solely {appropriate to the barren
plaudits of casual spectators.

V«>1. IV. Dpart^. ART

26 A CO>JCISE HISTOaY OF ART.

ART IN GERMANY

GER.MA^^Y has doubtless produced a number o\ good
artists 5 but whether it be that our hitcrcour^c with
Germany in respect of Art is not extensive^ or that the
Grerman language is little cultivated in England, or
whether the Germans have but little exported their
productions, however it may be, i liave not been so
fortunate as to meet with instances of many. We know
that Germany had early masters, and that trom the days
of Albert Durer, to the present. Art has been culti-
vated in ail its branches ; and in the article ot Engrav-
ing> seems to have taken the lead of all Europe at one
period. Since Germany has sent its youth to study at
Rome, it has dropped much of that Ciothic gusto to
which it wds formerly addicted; and is now as refined
as its neighbours, 1 conceive that the patient employ-
ment of Engra\'ing, is well calculated for German
steadiness i and from some iate specimens, it may be
concluded, their merit in this branch of Art is very re-
spectable. • -.Mi^M." ,■

, Germany has taken the trouble to send youth to Pa-
ris to study Engraving; where they have excelled their
preceptors in beauty of stroke and handling ; and iis
the Mezzo^tinto manner was pleasing to them, the
Germans have visited England to acquire it -, but in
this they did not excel i and British prints are much in
request among them.

J>!/ _ ART

HISTORY OF MODERN ART. '• 27

ART IN SPAIN.

The riches of Spain enabled that couutiy to p^ir-
chase the talents, and the works, of the best aitists.
When such artists coiiM be persuaded to tnive), the
kings of Spain employed them in their works, as ap-
pears in the Escoria], and when the best artists were
unwilling to quit their abodes, the kings of Spain have ^
purchased their pictures, whereby that country now
possesses a noble collection of the best performances.
Beside this, as the political, as well as commercial,"'
connectioii of Spain with Italy, has always been con*
siderable, and that country has been much visited by
Spanish grandees, the manners of Italy have more or-
less prevailed in Sjjain ; and collections of pictures have
been formed -in consequence. Spain has produced
painters of great merit ; as well of liistory, as of por-
trait ; it has also many Sculptures extremely well per-
formed by natives; how far its taste in Architecture is
equal to that of Italy, I profess not to know, neither,
perhaps, will it be easy to judge, till the Art of En-
graving, wherein the Spaniards have been backward,
shall transmit those representations which may enable
us to determine : but I apprehend. Architecture in
Spain is yet some steps from perfection.

Portugal may be considered as part of Spain ; so
much liave the same manners, and customs, obtained:
the Portuguese are not, (I believe) before the Spaniards j
neither has their commercial connection with England
greatly improved their knowledge of Art.

D2 ART

2^ ▲ CONCISE HISTORY OP ART.;

ART IN FRANCE.

FiULKCE, by its situation, is so connected with great
part of Europe, and has always been so much in the
habit of intermeddling in the concerns of other coun-
triesj that it would have been remarkable if it had not
partaken of the knowledge of that reputation which
Art was daily acquiring. France has several times
made inroads into Italy, even to Naples, its extremity :
and her kings and princes have often visited Rome.
France also has long wished to be thought the rival of
Italy, and therefore, has strictly watched over the novel-
ties of that country. Among its monarchs, it has
reckoned some of the most sumptuous in Europe, who
at the same time have cultivated letters, and arms.
The reputation of Leonardo da Vinci in Italy, in-
duced Francis I. of France, to entice him into France,
and he treated his merit with great respect, even to a
visit to him when dying. Mary of Medicis employ-
ed Rubens to decorate her palace of the Luxembourg,
at Paris; and Simon Vouet met with great success;
had many scholars (among whom Le BRU^) and
established a great reputation. Nevertheless, wemnt
k)ok to the reign of Louis XIV, for the brightest
period of the Arts in France; that prince encouraged
them from ostentation ; and his example was followed
by all his court. He encouraged Architecture, and he
caused the antient structures to be studied, and publish-
ed under the direction of Colbert his minister. Sculp-
ture, he brought to a very respectable rank ; and he
even fetched Bernini out of Italy, and allowed him
five louis a day, while in France. He decorated his

palaces

HISTORY OF MODERN ART. 2!^

palaces with many good sculptuj^^s ; arid left many ex-
cellent masters in this brandb-^ Painting he ripened
by his protection of Le Brun: but Painting in France
did not afterwards flourish in its nobler styles, as might
have been expected. Engraving he perfected j and his
encouragement of this Art, Droduced a succession of
Engravers extremely honorable and beneficial to
France.

Poussin's manner was not popular, and Le Sueur
died young. I'he successors to these had merit, but
not the merit of their masters: a frippery taste debased
their best works, in which respect Watteau was un-
happily injurious to Art, and Boucher had nothing
superior to offer. Vernet in landscape has lately
been highly, and deservedly esteemed.

Royal patronage was a principal support of Art in
France, the public buildings, bridges, &:c. were many
of them truly noble: it was also the royal custom to
order annually a certain number of statues and other
sculptures, and of historical pictures. The artists also
were handsomely and conveniently lodged in the
Louvre at Paris, and the whole establishment of Art
had altogether the air of a national undertaking.

Tlie A\rts suffered severely during the paroxysms of
the Revolution, but are now pompously and lavishly
encouraged. The valuable remains of ancient, and
specimens of modern art, public or private, in all con-
quered countries, have been invariably transferred to
Paris.

ART

3ft A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

ART IN THE LOW COUNTRIES.

Holland and Flantiers were for a long time the scats
of civil commotion, and bloody war: this is sayiof^
enough to determine that there the Arts were ahnost
prohibited. Nevertheless, Rub£ns and Vandyk (his
disciple) led the way in the most honorable career, and
<!isseminated those principles which succeeding masters
practised with great success.

The court of the Netherlands, or Low Countries,
■while united to Spain, possessed not a little of Spanish
pride, and magnificence, hence it encouraged the Arts
which furnished such magnificence ; but especially in
the city of Antwerp, v/here trade and commerce then
md taken their station, and where buildings were ra-
pidly rising, did the Art of Painting prosper; the
churches, the convents, as well as the houses of the
rich Burghers, testify this. When trade removed to
Amsterdam, Art forsook Antwerp; but it did not
Sourish at Amsterdam as it had done at Antwerp : its
exertions were required to run in a different channel,
arid were applied to different purposes; its subjects
were smaller, nicer, neater, but then it treated some
of these subjects with prodigious iuteiligence, and cor-
rectness. It could not vie with tlx: Italian schools in
dignity, and grandeur, nor with the French in sprightU-
ness, but it exceeded all in the management ot light
snd shadow, and was inferior to none m coloring, and
its dependencies. Its style of drawing was certainly
incorrect, and too common: but its figures were tlesh
and blood, and its landscapes were Nature herself.
Flowers and fruits, still-life, and various other minor
subjects, it rendered absolute deceptions; it spared no
pains to overcome difficulties, and in the mgnual prac-
tice of Art might stand in competition with the most
renowned schools.

THE

HISTORY OP MODERN ART. 31

THE ARTS IN ENGLAND.

The British nation has never been highly esteemed
for original Art : whatever of excellence it may have
possessed, has usually been import^ from the conti-
nent, together with its fashions, and raanners. In the
early ages the Britons were better acquainted with
Agriculture than with arts ; though they were estecmeid
an ingenious people. The Romans left a tincture of
Arts lx:hin<i them, and the Saxons, when settled^ fa-
vored Architecture, at least. Afterwards, Art wa.?
restricted to the cloister ; and during the turbulence of
civil contention had little honor or reward to expects
It was not till the long settled reign oi Henry VIL
that Arts began to flourish ; that prince sent for &:ulp«
tors, &c- from Italy, whom he engaged on his works i
and especially on his magnificent sepulchre. His son
Henry VII L was ostentatious by nature ; and his ri-
val Francis of France, being ostentatious also, these
princes vied with each other, Wolsey was rich ajid
proud, as well as politic ; and this statesman, though
a priest, contributed to promote Art, by buildings,
gifts, &c. The king and his court patronized Hans
Holbein, and we are obliged to this painter for the
likcni^sses oi most of them. Queen Elizabeth cci-
tainly possessed an excellent understanding; and amon"-
the objects she patronized was Painting, if not Sculp-
ture- Architecture revived also, about this period, on the
Grecian principles; and though it was at first mingleii
with Gothic excrescencies, yet gradually it purified it-
self from them, and assumed a more regular and cor*
rect appearance. The pacific James favored Art, by
favoring tranquillity i and Charjlw I. by his patronage

32 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART,

of Vandyke, and Inigo Jones, his employment of
Rubens, and his own intelligence in Art, seems to have
bid fair for establishing an English school, which might
have proved inferior to none : this the troubles of his
reign prevented ; and by nothing more than by the
sale of his collection of works of i\rt, &c. on which
the king had bestowed great attention and liberality.
The republic, such a republic as it was, was too much
agitated, jealous, and fluctuating, to attend to any
study less important than public affairs. The tire of
London was the noblest opportunity Flngiand ever of-
fered to have served Art and been served by Art, but
unhappily it was lost. Charles II. was too profligate
to serve the Arts effectively; and king William had
too much other business on his hands. If therefore the
Arts produced works of merit, it was less from public
patronage, than from private. Many respectable indi-
viduals of the English nobility understood Art, and va-
lued it ; and many of its productions attest its excellence^
but we cannot justly date the English school" till the mid-
dle of the eighteenth century, when those principles
were gaining ground which ultimately issued in a public
establishment. HogartHj by procuring an act in favor
of Engravers, did the first essential service to that Art ;
the establishment of Exhibitions, was the next great step
which advanced the reputation and merit of Art. Since
that period, much which theBritish school has produced,
would be thought worthy of distinguished eminence in
the most celebrated cabinets of Europe. Architecture
is greatly studied in England, and generally understood.
Portrait Painting is fashionable ; History Painting more
popular than it has been : Sculpture spreads, perhaps
improves: Engraving has been greatly favored ; and is
likely to maintain, if not increase its reputation.

LIST

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 53

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS,

FROM THE TIME OF CONSTANTINIl.

CHRONOLOGICALLY ARRANGED,

Metrodorus, native of Persia, acquired great riches; and
is said by some to have urged Constantinc to a war with Persia,
in behalf of the persecuted Cljristians.

Alipius, was ordered bv Julian the Apostate to rebuild the
temple of Jerusalem, A.D. 363.

CiRiADES, was at once consul, and architect, under TheO"
dosius; but was suspected of avarice and traud.

Sennamar, in the 5th century, an Arabian who built two
famous palaces in Castile — boasted of as wonders by the Arabs.

Entinopos, was theoccasion of building thecityofVeiuce,
by erecting his house on a small island, Mhich afterwards was
more fully peopled bythosewhofledfrom^/ar/r^ Cir A.VfASQ,

Alois! us was commissioned by Thcodork, prince of the
Ostrogoti)s, to repair many of the buildings in Rome.

Anthemius, of Tr-al/us, a city of Lydia in Asia Minor,
was arciiitcct, sculptor, and mechanic.

IsioDORus of Miletus, was associate of AnthemiuSj not only
in the famous edifice of Sta. Sophia^ but in many other build-
ings erected by Justinian. More than 500 architects were in
employ about this time, A.D. 566.

Perhaps no sovereignever raised so many buildingsas Char-
lemagne : but all were heavj-, and dull, their niei'it being so-
lidity. A.D. 800.

RuMOALDo built the cathedral of Rheims, 840.

BuscHETTO, a Greek, built the Duomo at Pisa, 1016.

BuoNo built the Campanile of St. il/a?^/: at Venice, 1154,
and many works in various places.

The doge Zi ani of Venice, employed two architects whose
names are not known ; one a Lombard, the other from Con-
stantinople, the latter rebuilt St. i/rtryt'* Church, 1178.

Vol. IV. E part 2. Suger

34 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

SuGER, abbot of St, Denis ^nezx Paris, built the abbey 1 140.

Dapo flourished in Florence ; and built many edifices.
Died 1262.

Arnolfo his son, born 1232, died 1300, was the most re-
noAvned architect and sculptor of his time: he rebuilt the
walls of Florence, and many p>ilaces and public places ; he
bejran the Duomo of Florence fS'f. Many of l lowers J in 1288 ;
and laid his foundations with so great judgment that they af-
terwards supported the fungous dome of Brunellcschi.

Jean Raw was employed 26 yearii on the church of Notre
Dame at Paris.

Erwin de Steinback laboured 23 years together on Stras-
burgh cathedral: which he completed. Died 1305. The
tower was not finished till 1449.

Giovanni Cimabue, was born at Florence, A.D. 1240,
and was the first who revived thcart of painting in Italy. Be-
ing descended of a noble family, andbeing of sprightly parts,
he was sent to school, to learn the belles leltres of those times ;
butinstead of minding his books, he spent all his time in draw-
ing men, or horses, on paper, or on the backs of his books.
The Arts having been extinct in Italy, since the irruption of
the barbarians, the senate of Florence had sent at that time for
painters out of Greece, to practice painting in Tuscany. O-
Tfiahue was their first disciple: for, following his inclination,
he used to elope from school, and pass whole days with those
painters to see them work. His father perceiving his disposi-
tion, agreed with the Greeks to place him under their care.
He began the study; and soon surpassed his masters both in
design and coloring. He gave something of strength and free-
dom tohisworks,to which they could never arrive: and though
he wanted the art of managing lights and shadows, was little
acquainted with perspective, and in other particulars w;is but
indifferently accomplished, yet the foundation which he laid
for future improvement, entitled him to the name of the ** Fa-
ther of the first age, or infancy, of modern painting."

Cimahue painted in fresco and in distemper, painting in oil
being not then in use. He painted many things at Florence,
some of which yet remain: but as his fame spread, he was sent
for to remote places, and among others, to Asceci, in Umbria,

the

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 35

the birth place of St. Frauds. There in tlie lower church, ia
company with those Greek painters, he painted some of the
cieling and the sides of the church, with the storiesof the lives
of our Saviour and St. Francis ; in which lie so far out-did his
coadjutors, that he resolved to paint by himself, and under-
took the upper church in fresco. Being returned to Florence,
he painted for the churcii of Sancta Maria Nozdla, Avhere h^
went first to school, a great piece of a Madonna, which is be-
tween the cliapel of iheRucillai, and that of the Bardidi Ver-
nia ; and which was the biggest picture that had been seen in
those da3'S. The connoisseurs sa}', that one may even now
discern in it the Greek way of his first masters, though im-
proved. It produced so much wonder in those tim 's, that it
was carried from Cimabut's ht)use to the church with trum-
pets before it, in solemn procession; and he was highly re-
warded and honored by the city for it. There is a tradition,
that while Cimabue was painting this piece in a garden he had
near the gate of St. Peter, Charles of Anjoa, king of Naples,
came through Florence ; where being received with all pos-
sible respect, the magistrates among other entertainments,
carried him to see this piece. And because nobody had yet
seen it, all the gentry of Florence waite*] u;x)n him thither;
and with such extraordinary rejoicings, that the name of the
place was changed to Borgo Allegri, that is, the Merry
Suburb ; which name it has retained to this day, though it has
since been built upon, and made part of the city.

Cimabue was a great architect, as well as painter, and was
concerned in the fabric of Sancta Maria del Fiore in Florence;
during which employment, at the age of 60 years, he died.
Cimabue's picture is still to be seen, done by S mon Sanese, in
the chapel of Sancta Maria Novella, in profile, in the history
of Faith. It is a figure which has a lean face, alittle red heard,
in point, with a capuche, or monk's hood, on his head, after
the fashion of those times: the figure next to him is Simon
Sanese himself, who drew his own picture by the help of two
looking-glasses.

Giotto, was born A.D. 1276, at a little village near Flo-
rence, of parents who were plain country people. When a
boy, he was sent to keep sheep in the fields ; and, having a
natural inclination for design, he used to amuse himself with

E 2 drawing

36 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

drawing them after the life upon the sand, in the best manner
he could. Cimabue traveling that way found him at this work,
and thence conceived so good an opinion of his genius for
painting, that he prevailed with his father to send him to Flo-
rence, to be brought up under him. He had not applied him-
self long to design, before he began to shake off the stiffness
of the Grecian masters. He endeavoured to give finer airs to
his heads, more of nature to his coloring, and proper actions
to his figures. He attempted likewise to draw after the life,
and to express the passions of the mind. What he did, had
not been done in 200 years before, with any skill cfjaial to his.
GiotUi's reputation extended far and near, insomuch, that it is
reported that pope Benedict IX. sent a gentleman into Tusca-
ny, to see what sort of a man he was ; and to bring him a de-
sign from each of the Florentine painters, being desirous of
estimating their skill and capacities. When he came to 6^;-
ottOj and explained the pope's intentions, which were to em-
ploy him in St. Pctefs church at Rome; and desired him to
send some piece of design by him to his holiness : Giotto, who
was a pleasant man, took a sheet of paper, drew with one
stroke of the pencil so true a circle, tliat " round as Giotto's
O," became proverbial. Then presenting it the gentleman,
he told him, smiling, that" there wasa piece of design, Mhieh
he might carry to his holiness," The man replied, " I ask for
a design :" Giotto answered, " Go, Sir, I tell you his holiness
asks nothing else of me." The ])ope comprehended by this,
how much Giotto excelled in design all other painters of his
time; and accordi.iglv sent for him to Rome, and employed
him. Here he painted nniriy things, and among the rest a ship
of Mosaic work, which is over the three gates of the portico,
in the entrance to St. Pr/tv'.v church : which very celebrated
piece is known to all painters by the i>ame of Giotto's bar(]ne,
Jitfiedict being dead, Clement V. succeeded him, and trans-
ferred the papal court to Avignon ; whither, likewise Giotto
was obliged to go. After some stay there, having satisfied the
popeby many fine specimensof his art,he was iargelyrewarded,
and returned to Florence full of riches and honor \\\ 1316. He
was soon called to Padua, where he painted a new-built cha-
pel ; from thence to Verona, and then to Ferrara. At the same
time the poet DantCy hearing that Giotto was at Ferrara, and

bein<r

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 37

being liimself then an exile at Kaveiina, got him over to Ra-
venna, where he painted several things. In 1322, he was again
invited abroad by Castruccio Castnicani, lord of Lucca, and,
after that, by jRoherf^ king of Naples. Giotto painted many
things at Naples, and chiefly the chapel, where the king was
so pleased with him, that he used very often to go and sit by
him while he was at work: for Giotto was a man of pleasant
conversation and wit, as well as ready with his pencil. The
number of his works are very great. There is a picture of his
in one of the churches of Florence, representing the death of
the blessed Virgin, with the apostles about her : the attitudes
of whicli btory ^Mi'c/iacl Angela used to say, could not be bet-
ter designed. Giotto^ however, did not confine his genius to
painting : he was a sculptor and architect. In 1327, he formed
the design of a magnificent monument for Guido Tarlati, bi-
shop of Arezzo, who had been the head of the Ghibeline faction
in Tuscany : and, in 1334, undertook the famous tower oiSanc-
fa Maria delFiore^ for which work, though it was not finished,
he was made a citizen of Florence, and endowed with a con-
siderable yearly pension.

He died in 1336 : and the city of Florence erected a statue
in marble over his tomb. He had the esteem and friendship
of most of the excellent men of the age he lived in ; and
among the rest of Dante and Petrarch.

Andrea Taffi, and Gaddo Gaddi v.-ere his cotempora-
ries and the restorers of Mosaic work in Italy ; which the for-
mer had learnt of /Ippolonius the Greek, and the latter very
much improved.

At the same time also was Margaritone, a native of
Arezzo in Tuscany, who first invented the art of gilding with
leaf-gold, upon bole-armoniac.

SiMONE Memmi, born at Sienna, (a city in the borders of
the dukedom of Florence) A.D. 1285, was a disciple of Gw//c,
whose manner he improved in drawing after the life. He was
applauded for his free and easy invention, and began to ui-
derstand the decorum in his compositions. Died A.D. 1345.

Taddeo Gaddi, another disciple of Giotto^ born at Flo-
rence, Anno 1300, excelled his master in the beauty of his
coloring, and the liveliness of his figures. He was also a
skilful architect, and much commended for his bridge over
the river Arno, at Florence. He died A. U. 1350,

William

88 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

WiLLTAM OF Wykeham, aQ English prelate of most re-
spectable memory, Mas born at Wykeham in Hampshire, in
1321-. His parents were peisons of good reputation and cha-
racter, but in circimistances so mean, that they could not af-
ford to o-ive their son a liberal education. However, this de-
ficiencv was supplied by some generous patron, who main-
tained him at school at Winchester, where he was instructed
in grammatical learning, and gave proofs of his diligence and
piety.

His being brought to court, and placed there in the king's
service, is related to have been when he was about two or three
and twenty years of age : but the first office which he appears
upon record to have borne, was that of clerk of all the king's
works in the manors of Henle and Yeshamstead. His patent
for this is dated the 10th of May, 1356 : and, the 30th of Oc-
tober following, he was made surveyor of the king's works at
the castle and in the park of Windsor. It w^as by his advice
and persuasion, that the king was induced to pull down great
part of the castle of Windsor, and to rebuild it in the magni-
ficent manner in which (upon the whole) it now appears ; and
the execution of this «reat work was committed entirely to
him. Wykeham had likewise the sole direction of the build-
ino- of Queenborongh castle ; the difficulties arising from the
nature of the ground and the lowness of the situation, did
not discourage liini from advising and undertaking this work ;
and in the event they only served to display more evidently
the skill and abilities of the architect. Wykeham acquitted
himself so well in the execution of these employments, that
he gained a considerable place in his master's favor, and grew
daily in his master's affections : nevertheless, his enemies
o-ave so malicious a turn to an inscription he put on the pa-
lace at Windsor, as exposed him for a little time to the king's
displeasure. The words of this inscription are, ** This
MADE Wykeham;" and have an ambiguous meaning.
Those who wished him ill interpreted them in the worst
sense; and hinted to the king, that the chief surveyor of that
edifice insolently ascribed all the glory of it to himself. His
majesty being exasperated, reproached Wykeham., but was
appeased, and even laughed after hearing his answer,
he replying, with a smiling air, that his accusers must either
be extremely malicious, or extremely ignorant : ** 1 am,"

said

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. S9

said he, ** the creature of this palace : to it I owe the favour
** with wliich my sovereign induloes me, and who raised me
** from alow condition to an exalted fortr.e. Such is its import.**

Henceforth we find the king continually heaping on him
preferments both civil and ecclesiastical ; for it seems to have
been all along his design to tuke upon him holy orders, though
he was not ordained priest till 1362. From his being made
rector of Pulliam in Norfolk in 1357, which was his hrst, to
his being raised to the see of Winchester in 1366, his ad-
vancement in the state all the while kept pace with his pre-
ferment in the church. In 1359, he was constituted chief
warden and surveyor of t^?- king's castles of Windsor, Leeds,
Dover, and Hadlam ; in 1363, warden and justiciary of the
king's forest, on this side Trent ; keeper of the privy seal in
1364 ; and within two years after secretary to the king.

He repaired the palaces and houses belonging to his see, at
<rreat expei»ce : he made visitations of his whi)le diocese : and
he was very diligent and active in establishing strict discipline
and reforming abuses. But,

The work which demanded his chief attention was, to erect
his college at Oxford ; the king's patent for the building of
v.'hich is dated June 30, 1379. He published his> charter of
foundation the 26th of November following ; by which he en-
titled his college, *' Seinte Marie College of Wynchestre in
Oxenford." The building was begun in March following, and
finished in April 1386. During the carrying on of this work
at Oxford, he established in proper form his society at Win-
chester. His charter of found.aion bears date Oct. 20, 1382,
in which he gives his college the name of" Seinte Mane Col-
lege of Wynchestre." In 1387, the year after he had com-
pleted his building at Oxford, he began that at Winchester,
and finished it in 1393.

1 his illustrious prelate died at South Waltham, Sept. 27,
1404; and was buried in his own oratory, in the cathedral
church of Winchester, in rebuilding and repairing of which
he had laid out immense sums.

ToMAso, called GioxriNO, for his affecting, and imitat-
ing Giotto's manner, born at Florence, Anno 1324, began to
add strength to his figures, and to improve the art of per-
spective. Hedi'*d A.D. 1356.

BUFALMAC©

40 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

BuFALMACo (BoNAMico,) an eminent Italian painter, wh©
was as pleasant in his conversation, as he was ingenious in his
compositions. A tViencI, whose name was Brutjo, consuhing
him one day how he might give more expression to his sub-
ject, Lufalmaco answered, that he had nothing to do, but to
make the words come out of the mouths of his figures by la-
be, s, on which tliey might be written. Brimo^ thinking liim
in earnest, did so, as several foolish painters did after him;
who, improving upon Bru- Oy added answers to questions,
and made their figures enter into a kind of conversation.
Biifulmaco d'wd m I :i40.

Johannes ab Eyk, commonly called John o^ Bruges, born
at Maseech, on the river Maez, in the Low Countries, Anno
1370, was a disciple of his brother Hubert y and a consicU^ra-
ble painter : but above all things famous for being the (sup-
po'-ed) hapjjy inventor of the art of painting in oil, Anno 1410,
(thirty years before printing was found out, by John Gutteni^
berg, of Strasburgh.) He died Anno 1441, having some 3ears
before his decease communicated his invention to

Antonello of Messina, who travelled from his own coun-
try into Flanders, on purpose to learn the secret: and return-
ing to Sicily, and afterwards to Venice, was the first who
practised, and taught it in Italy. He died Anno JExoX. 49.

FiLLippo Brunelleschi, born 1377, was the son of Lip'
po Lapi ; n-as designed for a notary, but very early shewed a
surprising genius for mechanics, sculpture, and architecture ;
he first distinguished thethi'ee orders of tiie ancients ; he con-
ceived the idea of covering St. Mary of Flowers with a dome ;
he visited Rome, and so absorbedly studied the ancient build-
ings as to forget his food. Alter a tempest of objections he
completed his dome to the astonishment of the age. His fame
was spread throughout Italy ; and his services were every-
where in request. Died A.D. 1444.

Leon Battista Alberti, born 1398, was canon of the
cathedral of Florence, and well vers-.ed in several sciences, and
especiallv in the fine arts: was one of the principal restorers
of ancient architecture. He did many works in Florence ;
others in Rome ; and elsewhcic. But we are principally^ ob-
liged to him for his tract De Re Edijicatoiia ; or ten books on
Architecture ; and indeed, says an author, we must render this

testimony

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 41

testimony to tlie famous genius oi Albcrti, t/iat nevei'nian ia-
bored with more success upon sotiresc/iueandsod.fficult amat-
ter. His family, being illustrious, andajlietl to that of JAyZ/Vv,
^vrought the first tie of friendsliip with Lorenzo de Mcduis ^
xixxA iie coniniimicated to biin Iiis design of stud^-ing the an-
cient Architecture. Lorenzo de Mtdiirs letters gave him ac-
cess at the courts of all the princes of Kurope and Asia, Avhere
there were old ruins, or buildings, which seemed to have been
magnificent. Albvrti \'\s\ticd them at his ease; took all ilofh'
measures; anel at his return to Florence, compared the divers
observations be had mad euitfi the precepts of i iimvi'iis. Then
}»e bent his studies on optics, pcrceving tf /at the painters
of his time did not succeed in niak.ng poriruits in miniature:
Hefoundouttheirdemonstratiotjsandruie.-:,whiehheil]«straied
and rendered public, and spared neither indastrv, pains, orex-
pence, to mstruct vouth in pmctising them. From thence it
came tliat, in his trme, t])cre was at Florence a greater nui«-
]jcr of excellent jiainters, sculptors, and architects, than lead
been known in Greece, even .when she boasted of beincr ibe
mother and nurse of the liheral arts.

Masaccio was born in 7'uscany, A.D. 1417, and for his
copious invention, manner of design, coloring, and graceful
actions of his figures ; for his draperies, and judgment in per-
spective, he is reckoned the master of the second, or middle
age of modijrn painting : which it is thought he would have
earned to a juticli Ijigher degree of perfection, if death had
not stopped him in liis career (by poison it was supposed)
A.1l>. 1443.

Gentile, and Giovaxni, sons and disciples of Giacomo
Bellino, were born at Venice, (Gentile^ A. D. 1421.) and
were so eminent that Gentile w^s sent for to Constantinople,
by Mahoaiet II. emperor of the Turks : for whom havmg
(among other things) painted the decollation of St. Jolm
Biiptist, the emperor, to convince him that the neck, after its
separation from the body, could not be so long as he had
made it in his picture, ordered a slave to be brought to him,
and commanded his head to be struck off, in his presence :
which so terrified Gentile^ that he cou d never be at rest, till
he got leave to return home : which the enjperor granted, af-
ter he had knighted iiim, and nobly rewarded bim for his ser-
Vol. IV. F part 2 vices.

■J 2 A CONCISK HISTORY OF AI^T.

vices. The most consideiable works of these hrothersare a>
Venice, where Gwxanni Wvcd to the aero of 90 years, havin^
veiyrarelv paint^xl any thiri<r but Scii|)tnre stories, and reli-
-gioiis subjects, which he perrornicd so v.ell, as to be esteemed
the most excellent ot ail the Br/lini. (Jrnfilc died A.D. 1501 .
^tat. 80.

ANDRf.A Mantagx.a, bom at Padiui, A.D. 5+31, was
a disc'ple of Jacopo S'juarcione, was very correct in design,
admirable in fore-shorteninp^ his fig-iires, well versed in per-
spective, and arrived irt iVreat kno\v!e(lp;e of anticjuities, hy
!iis continued aj)p]icuti(>n to the statues, basso-relievos, &c.
ITowever,his neglect ot'scasouirio his stud'es after the antique,
'vith the living beauties of nature, hasj^ivcn his pencil some-
what of liardness and diyness : his drapery i^ generally stiiT,
(according- to tlie manner of those times) and ptnplexed with
little folds. lie panited sevt^ral things for Pope Innocent VJII.
'M'\(\ for other j)rinces, and persons of distinction : but th<^
best of his Avorks, and for which he was knighted by the
marquis Liulorico Gonzaga, of Mantua, are the Triumphs of
Jnh'its Cteiar, now at Ilamjiton Court, He died A.D. ijl7 ;
JEtat. 86. having been one of the hrst who practised the art
of Engraving in Italy: the invention wliereof is justly ascrib-
ed toMAso FiNiGULRA,a goldsmitli of Florence : who in tiie
vear 1160, discovered the way of printing off on paper, what
he had engraved on silver-plate, &c.

Andrea Verrochio, a Florentine, born A.D. 1 132, was
well skilled in matlienialics, music, arehiterture, sculpture,
and painting ; which last, it seems, he quitted on this account:
~~h\ a piece of St. John baptizing our Saviour, Leonardo da
Vincij one of his scholars, had by his order painted an angel,
holding some part of our Saviour's garments ; which so fur
ifexcelled the )est, that Verrochio, vexed to be outdone by
a youth, resolved never to use the pencil any more. He dis-
covered the art of taking the likeness of the face, by molding
6fF the features in plaster of Paris. He untlerstood casting
very well, l^he Venetians would have employed him to have
made abraS^ten statue of Bartolomeo di Bergamo on horseback,
and be composed a model of it in wax ; but another being pre-
ferred before him to cast the statue, he was so provoked, that
he broke olY the head and legs of his model, and fled. The

senate

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 4S

senate in vain issued orders to stop hira ; they declared tlicy
would have liis head cut ofT, if they could catch him ; to
wbicli he published an answer, that, " if the}- sliouid cut ofl'
Ijis head, it would be impossible to make another : whereas
he could easily make anotlier head and a fii-cr one, for the
model of his horse." lie was afterwards pardoneci and eui-
{iioyed ; but had not the pleasure of putting the horse \'^ its
])!ace : for, over-heating himself in casting it, he fell ill of a
pleurisy, and died A.D. 1488, aged 56.

LucA SiGxoREi.Li of Cortoua, a city in the dukedom of
Florence, born A.D. 1439, was a disciple of Fietro dal Bor~
go S. Sepiilchro, he was so excellent at designing the naked,
that from a piece which he painted in the chapel of the great
church, at Orvieto, M. Angela Biionarriioti transferred se-
veral entire figures into his last judgment. He died very rich,
A.D. 1521. He is said to have had such an absolute com-
mand over his passions, that when his beloved son (a youth
extremely handsome, and of great hopes) had been unfortu-
nately killed, and was brought home to him, he ordered his
corpse to b e carried into his painting-room : and having stript
him, immediately drew his picture, without shedding a tear.
PiETRO Di CosiMO, a Florentine, bom A.D. 1441, was a
disciple of Cosimo Roselli (whose name he retained) and a
very good painter : but so strangely full of caprices, that all
his delight was in painting satyrs, fauns, harpies, monsters,
jiud such like extravagant and whimsical figures: and there-
fore he apj)lie(l himself, for the most part, to Bacchanalias,
Masquerades, &c. Died A.D. 1521.

Bramante of Urbino, born 1444, of poor but honest pa-
rents ; v.'hen a boy, applied to Design and Painting, but after-
wards to Architecture. He measured the antiquities of Rome
and elsewhere : but his productions were nevertheless some-
what d\y, and shewed the infancy of correct Architecture.
His greatest work was the church of St. Peter at Rome, which
he began, and advanced : but left it to be finished by his suc-
cessors. Died A.D. 1 5 14.

Leonardo da Vikci, an illustrious Italian painter, and
universal genius, was descended from a noble family in Tus-
cany, and born in a castle called Vinci, near Florence, A.D.
1 445. He was placed under Andrea Verrochia^ but soon sur-

F 2 passed

44- A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

pa^cd him and all Iiis predecessors; and is o\\ ned as the
master of the third or Qoldea at;c of modern paint ni^.

Leonardo, quittinp; J'^crroc/iioy did many paintings still to be
seen at Florence, He beCame in all' respects a most accom-
plished piirson. Never was painter more knowing in the
theory of his art. He was well skilled in anatomy, optics,
and geometry, in the sturiy of nature and her operations: for
he niaintainefl the knowledge of nature to be the ground-
work of painting. His genius was universal, he applied him-
selt to arts, to literature, to accomjiiishnients of the body;
and he excelled in all. He was a good architect, sculptor,
and mechanic: he liad a fnie voice, understood music, and both
played and sung as well as any man of his time. He was a
well-h)rmed ])erson, and master of all genteel exercises. He
understood the management of a horse, tookdelight inappear-
ing well mounted : and was very dextrous in the use of arms.
His behaviour was polite, and his conversation so infinitely
taking, that no man ever partook of it without pleasure, or
left it without rejxret.

Wis reputation soon spread itself over Italy. Loia's Sforza^
duke of Milan, called him to his court, and prevailed with him
to be a director of the academy for Architecture, he had just
established : whence Leonardo soon banished the old Gothic
fashions, and reduced every thing to the principles of the
Greeks and Romans. YinVQ Louis forming a design of supply-
ing the city of Milan with waterbva new canal, the execution
was deputed to Leonardo. To accomplish this vast design, he
spent much time in the study of philosophy and the mathema-
tics; 'ipplying with double ardor to those ]iarts whicl) assisted
him in the work !e had undertaken. At length heacconjplished
this grea^ work ; rendering hills and vallies navigable with se-
curity. 'I hiscanaI,namedMortesana,is200niilesinlength ; and
passes through the Valteline and the valley of Chiavenna, con-
ducting the waters of the river Adda to the very walls of >Jilan.
Alter Leonardo had been laboring some years for the service
tjfMilan, as architect and engineer, he was called by the duke
toadorn it l)y his paintings : and he painted, amongotli(M-things,
his celebrated piece of the Last Supper. Francis I. of France,
was so charmed with this, that, findmg it impracticable to re-
move it, he procured a copy , which is still at St.Germains; while

the

LIST OF THE PKTXCIPAL ARTISTS. 4rj

the original, beinj^ painted in oil, on a wall not sufficiently se-
cured from moisture,has long been defaced. The wars of Italv
interrupted him ; iiiid his patron, duke Lruis, beino; dcfcatec?
.md carried prisoner (o France, the academy was destroyed, the
professors expelled, and the artieffcctuailv banished from Mi-
Jan. In 1499,thc year before dukeZoww's de.''eat,Z<?o/?tfr</i/bciiig
at Milan, was desired to contrive somenewdevice for t-lic enter-
tainment of /,0i«'.fXir. of France, wlu) was ready to make his en-
trance into that city. Lcominio consented, and made a very
cnrions automaton : it was the figure of a lion, whose inside was
so well furnished with machinery, that it niarched out to meet
the king; made a stand \vl>en it canie before him; reared upon
Its hinder legs ; and opening its breast, presented an escut-
cheon, with flower de luces quartered on it.

When Leonardo ^y\\x\.ei\ Mihm, he retired to Florence ; u here
he flourished under the patronage of the Medici. In 1503, the
Florentines resolving to have their council chamber painted,
Leonardo by a public decree was elected to the office ; and got
Michael Angdo to assist him in j^ainting one side of it, while he
himself painted the other. Michael Angela was then a young
man ; yet had acquired great reputation, and was not afraid
to vie with Zfo;?f/r(/o. .Jealousy, as is ttsnal, arose between
them; and each had their partizans, so that at last they became
open enemies. About this time llaffaelle was led by Leonardo's
reputation to Florence ; the first view of whose works astonish-
ed him, and produced in him a reformation, to which all the
glory he afterwards acquired has been ascribed by some. Leo'
Wtf?r/o staid at Florence, till 1513; and then went to Rome,
■wbich it is said he had never 3'et seen. Leo X. then pope, who
loved painting and the arts, received him graciously, and re-
solved to employ him : upon which Leonardo set himself to
the distilling of oils, and preparing of varnishes for his paint-
ings. Leo, informed of this, said smartly enough, that, " no-
thing could be expected from a man, who thought oi' fmisji-
ing his works before he had begun them." 'ihis unlucky bon
mot, and other little mortihcations,disj)leased him with Rome,
so that being invited by I'vanci^ I. he removed into France.
He was above seventy years of age when he undertook this
journey : and it is probable the fatigues of it, together with
change of climate, contributed to the distemper of which l-c
died. He languished several months at Fontainbleau, during

whici.'

46 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Avliith time tlic king went frequently to see liim : and one day,
as lie V as raising Inmsclf up in bed to thank the king for the
honor done him, be wna suddenly seized with a fainting til;
and Francis stooping to support I)iin, he expired in the arms
of that monarch. A. D. 1520.

He was extremely diiigent in the peribrmance of his works ;
it was the opinion of RubcnSy that his chief excellence lay in
giving ev(;ry thing its proper character ; he was wonderfully
diffident of himself, and left several pieces unfinished ; believ-
ing, that his hand could never reach that idea which he had
conceived in his mind. Some of his paintings are in England
and other couniries, but the greater part of tiicm are in Flo-
rence and France. He composed discourses on several curious
subjects, among which were, " A Treatise of the Nature,
Equilibrium, and Motion of Water;" *' A 'J'reatise of Ana-
tomy;" " J he Anatoniy of a Horse;" " A Treatise of Per-
spective;" " A Treatise of Light and Shadows;" and "A
'J'reatise of Painting." None of these have been published,
but the *' Treatise of the Art of Painting."

PiETRO Perugino, SO Called from the place where he was
born, in the ecclesiastical state, A. D. 1 >46, was a disciple of
Andrea Vcrrochio. He w as so very miserable and covetous a
wretch, that the loss of his moncN' by thieves, broke his
heart, A. D. 1 524.

DoMENico Ghirlandaio, a Florentine painter, born in
I4-1-'J, was at first intended for the profession of a goldsmith,
but followed his more prevailing inclinations to painting, witii
such success, that he is ranked among th.e prime masters of
his time. Nevertheless liis manner was Gothic and very dry ;
and his reputation is not so much fixed by his own works, as
by his having had Michcid Angela for his disciple. He died at
44 years of age, and left three sons, David, Benedict, and
Rhodolph, who were all of them painters.

Francesco Raibolini, commonly called Frakcia, born
at Bologna, A.D. 1450, was at first agoldj^mith, or jeweller;
afterwards an engraver of coins and medals, but at last apply-
ing to painting, he acquired great reputation : particularly
by a "^'X. Sebastian, whom he had drawn bound to a tree, witlr
his hands tied ovc:r his head. In which figure, besides the
delicacy oi its coloring, and gracefulness of the posture, the
propurtion xjf its parts was so admirabb, just and true, that

all

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 47

all the succeed InjT Boiognese Pairitefs (even Hannibal Car-
raclie himself) studicti its measures as their rule, and followed
them in the same manner as the ai^cicnts had done the
canon of Po/ycklns. It was under the discipline of this
master, that Marc Antonio, naff(tdle\ best graver, learnt the
rudiments of his art. Count yl/«/ww/ affirms, he lived till
tlie year {56\): though Vasitri says, he died in 1518; and
states the occasion of his death to have been a fit of transport,
that seized him, upon sight of the famous ^-'t. Oxi/ia, Mhich
IiaffLicUehAd painted, and sent* to him, to put up in one of
the ciiurclies in Ifelogna.

Fra Bartolomeo, born at Savignano, a village about ten
miles from Florence, A.D. 1469, was a disciple of Cosimo
Iio?cIii : but much more beholden to the works of Leonardo
da Vixciiov his extraordinary skill in painting. He was well
versed in the fundamentals of design : and had besides, so many
laudablequalities,that Raffaclle, after he had quitted the school
of Pe)-ugiAo, applied himself to this master, und under him
studied perspective, and the art of managing his colors. He
turned Dominican Friar, A.D. 1500, and after some time,
was by his superiors sent to the convent of St. Mark^ ui Flo-
rence. He pai Sited both portraits and hisftories, but v\-ou d
hardly ever dra-.v naked figures, though nobody understood
them better. He died A.D. 1517, and was t'Hi first v/ho in-
vented and made use of a lay-man. '

Albert Durer, descended from an Hungarian famiiv, and
born at Nuremberg, Mav 20, 1471, was one of the best en-
gravers and painters of his age. Having made a slight begin-
ning in the shop of his father, who was agoldsm;th, he asso-
ciated himself with an indiribrent painter, named Maitin
Ilupse, who taught him to engrave on copper, and to ma-
nage colors. Albert learned likewise arithmetic, perspective,
and geometry : and then, at twenty-six years of age, exhibited
some of his works to the public : his first v.'as the Gr;.c^s,
naked, perfectly well shaped ; over their heads a globe, dated
1497. He engraved theiife of Christ inthirty-six pieces, which
were so highly esteemed, that Marc A }r1oino Frajin copied
them. ^((75^/7' relates, that having counterfeited them on cop-
per-plates \vith rude engraving, as Albert /.hirer had done on
wood, and pul the mark used by Albert, (A.D.) thev were so

48 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

]ike his, that thev were thought to be AlbcrCs^ and sold as
such. Albert receiving one of the counterfeits, was so enraged
that be immediutely went to Venice, and complained oi Marc
Anlonio to the government : be obtained no other satisfaction,
but that J/tf;c Antonio should not for the future put Aihat^i
naiTie and mark to his works.

Few of I)uier\s pictures are to be met with, except in the
palaces of princes.

The particular account, whiclj we find in Vasari, of bis en-
gravings, is curious : and it is no small compliment to him,
to have this Italian au h : own, that tlte printsof Dunrhcxn^r
brought to Italv, excited the painters there to perfect that
part of the art, and served them for excellent models. Durcr
had an inexhaustible fund of designs: and, as he could not
execute th(m all on copper, since every piece so done cost
bim a deal of time, he bethought himself of working on
wood. The two fust pieces he executed in ti)at way are the
beheading of John BaptlM^ and tlie head of that saint pie-
sentcd to Herod in a charger: these were published in 1510.
One of his best pieces is St. J-Custachius kneeling before a
stag which has a crucifix betweeti its horns.

'J'hc emperor MaxhnUian bad a great ail'ection for DurWy
treated bim with a particular rcg.ird, gave liim a good pen-
sion, and letters of nobility; and Charles V. and his brother
Fcrdwand, king of Ihingarv, followed A/uiimi/tujfs example
in f<ivor and liberality to him. This eminent man died at
TMureniberg, in April 6, 1628, and was interred in the church-
3 ard at St. John's church, where his good friend Pirckheuner
erected a very honorable sepulchral in, cription to him. He
was married, and some writers saV, that he had a Xanfippe for
his wife, while others relate, that in painting the Virgin, he
took her face for his model : it is not impossible that both
\he&e accounts may be true. He was a man of most agreea-
ble conversation, and a lover of mirth; yet he was virtuous
and w se, and to his honor be it said, never employed his art
in obscene represtMitations, though it seems to have been the
fashion of his times.

He wrote several books, which wercpublished after hisdeath.
His book upon the rules of painting, intitled, *' Do Symme-

tria

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 49

tria partiuni in rectis foi mis humanorum corpornm," is onepf
tliem. As he had hard work to please himself, he proceed-
ed slowly in it, and did not live to see the edition of it finish-
ed : his friends however finished it according to his directions.
It was printed at Nuremberg in folio, 1532, and at Paris iii
1557. An Italian version also was published at Venice in
J 591. His other works are, "InstitutionesGeometricae, Paris,
1532." " De urbibiis, arcil)us, castellisque condendis & mu-
niendis, Paris, 1531." " De varietate figurariim, et flexuris
partiun), ac gestibns imaginum, Nuremberg, 1534." A dis-
course of his concerning tlie symmetry of the parts of an
liorse, was stolen from him; and though he "well knew the
thief, yet he chose ratlier to bear the loss contentedly, than
to deviate from his natural moderation and mil<^ness, as he
must have done, if he had prosecuted him.

It is necessar}' to observe, that Durer, being no scholar,
wrote all his works in High-Dutch ; Avhich were translated
into Latin by other hands.

Michael Angelo Buonarruoti, an illustrious painter,
sculptor, and architect, a^ asbornat the castle of Chiusi, in the
territory of Arezzo in Tuscany, 1474. He was put to nurse
in the village of Setliniano, a place noted for the resort of
, sculptors, of whom Ins nurse's husband A\as one; which gave
occasion to a well-known saying, that Miehael Angelo sucked
in sculpture Avitli liis milk. His violent inclination to design
obliged his parents to place him with Dominko Ghirlanduio ;
and the progress he made raised the jealousy of his school-
felloAvs so much, that Torrigiano, one of them, gave him a
blow on the nose, the marks of which he carried to his grave.
He erected an academy of painting and sculpture at Florence,
under the protection of Lorenzo de MedieiSy who was a lover
of the arts; but on the troubles of the house of Medicis^ he
was obliged to remove to Bologna. About this time he made
a statue of Cupid , [some say of Bacchus,'] carried it to Rome,
broke off one of its arms, and buried it ; keeping in the mean
time the broken arm by him. The Cupid, being found, was
sold to the cardinal of St. Gregory for antique: but Michael
Angelo discovered the fallacy, by shewing the arm he had re-
served for that purpose, ^is reputation was so great at Rome,
Vol. IV. G part 2 that

50 "^ A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

that he was omployed bv Pope Si.iius to paint his chapel. I?((f.
facile croidi si<rlit of this paintino- by stealth, before it was
finished, and found the desisjn to be of so great a g'lsto, t!uit
he resolved to nuike h;s advantage of it: and in the first pic-
ture whit:!) Juijfat'lle produced afterwards, Avhich was that of
the prophet Isaiah, for the church of M. Austm, Michael
Ans,<lo discovered the theft. Upon the death of pope JuHus
II. he went to Florence, where lie made that admirable piece
of s.cul|)tnre, the tomb of the duke ot Florence. He « as in-
terrupted bv the wars, the citizens obliging him to v.ork on
the fortihcations of this pity ; but foreseeing that tiieir pre-
cautions would be u^eless, he removed from Florence toFer-
rara, and th^Mice to Venice. The doge Grilti would fain
have entertained Imn in his service ; but v\\ he could get of
hm>, was a desigr; of the bridge Kialto. By the command of
pope Pom/ III. he painted that mo-t celebrated of all his pieces,
the iast iudgment; for which he had a reward suitable to liis
merits He died immensely rich at Ron)e in 1564, aged 90;
but Coiano di Midicis had his body brought to Florence, and
buried in the church of Sancta Cri ce, where his tomb is to be
seen in marble, consisting of three figures, Painting, Sculp-
ture, and Arcliitecture.

Michael Angela lias the name of the greatest designer that
ever was: and it is uuivei sally allowed, that never any pain-
ter in the world understood anatomy so well. He took incre-
dible pains to reach the perfection of his art. He loved soli-
tude, and used to say, that " Painting was jealous, and re-
quired the whole man to herself" Being asked, *' ^\'hv■ lie
did not marrv?" He answered, " Painting was his wife, and
liis works his children." In Architecture also, he not on.y
surpassed all the moderns, but, as some think the ancients
too ; for which they bring as proofs, the St. Petcr^s of Rome,
the St. John\ of Floiencc, the Capitol, the Palazzo lanicsc,
and his own house. As a painter he is said to have been e.v-
travao-ant and fantastical in his compositions ; to have over-
charged his design ; to have tal.en too many libeities against
the rules of perspective ; and to have understood but little of
coloring. Nevertheless his reputation was well earned, and
is still undiminished.

GlORGION£,.

LIST OE THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 51

GiORGiONE, SO called from his noble and comely aspect,
vas an illustrious painter, born at Caste! Franco in Trevisano,
a province in the state of Venice, 'n 1478. He was of an in-
different parentage, yet had a line genius and a large soul.
He was bred in Venice, and first applied to music ; aft^r this,
he devoed himself to ])ainting, und received instructions
from Giovanni Bellino ; but afterwards studying the works of
Leonardo da rinci, he attained a manner of painting superior
to tiiem both. He designed with greater Ireedom, colored
with more strength and beauty, gave a better relievo, mcjre
life, and a nobler spirit to his figures ; and was the first among
the Lombards, who found out the admirable effects of strong
lights and shadows. Titian was extremely pleased with his
bold and terrible gusto ; and intending to make his advantag<?.
of it, frequently visited him, under pretence of keeping up
the friendship they had contracted at their master htUtno''s :
but Gioi-gione, growing jealous of his intentions, contri\ed to
forbid him his house as handsomely as he could. Upon this,
Titian became his rival. Titian thought, that Giorgio72er had
passed the bounds of truth ; and though he imitated in some
things the boldness of his coloring, yet he tamed, as one may
say, the fierceness of his colors, which were too savage. He
tempered them by variety of tints, to make his objects more
natural : notwithstanding this, Giorgione maintained his cha-
racter for the greatness of his gusto ; and it is allowed, that
if Titian has made several painters good colorists, Giorgione
first shewed them the way to be so. He excelled both in his-
tor}- and portraits. The greatest of his performances is at
Venice, on the front of a house wherein the German mer-
chants meet, on the side towards the grand canal. He did
this in competition with Titian^ who painted another side ;
but both these pieces are almost entirely ruined by age. His
most valuable piece in oil is, that of our Saviour carrying his
cross, in tl>e church of San Hovo at Venice ; where it is held
in wonderful esteem. He worked much at Castel Franco and
Trevisano ; and many of his pieces were bought up and ear-
ned to foreign pares, to shew that Tuscany alone had not the
prize of painting. Some sculptors in his time took occasion
to praise sculpture beyond painting, because one might walk
round a piece of sculpture, and view it on all sides j Avhereas

G 2 a paint-

52 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

a paintiii!fy, said they, could never represent but one side of a
b')dy at once. Giorgiune hearing this, said they were ex-
treaieiy mistaken; for that he would undertake to do a piece
of i>amting, which should shew the front, the hind parts, and
thesues, without putting spectators to the trouble of going
round it, as sculptors do to view a statue : and he accom-
plished it thus — He drew the picture of a young man going
to bathe, shewing his back and shoulders, with a fountain of
clear watci' at his feet, in which there appe.red by reflection
all his foreparts : on the left side of him, he placed a bright
shining armour, which he seemed to have put off, and in the
lustre of that, all the left side was seen in profile : and on his
right he placed a large looking-glass, which rejected his right
side to view.

He fell in love with a young beauty at Venice, who was
no less charmed with him; she was seized with the plague :
but, not suspecting it to be so, admitted the visits oi Gior-
gione^ wiieve the infection seized hiuj. '^^1 hey both died in
151 1, "he being no more than 33.

7'iTiAN, or TiTiANO, the most universal genius of all the
Lombard schooi, the best colorist of all the moderns, and the
most eminent for histories, landscapes, and portraits, was born
atCadore in Friuii, a province in the state of V^enice, in 1477,
being descended from the ancient family of the Vecelli. At
ten yeiirs of age, his parents sent him to one of his uncles at
Venice, who observing in him an inclination to painting, put
him to the school Oi Giovanni Bellino ; where he improved him-
self more by the emulation between himself and his fellow dis-
ciple GiorgionCjt\y<.ixv by the instruction of his master, lie was
censured indeed by Michad Angela Biwnarruoti, for want of
correctness in design (a fiiult common to all the Lombard pain-
tei .s,who were not aprjuainted with the antique, )yet that defect
was abundantly supplied in all other parts of a most accom-
plished artist, lie made three several portraits of the em-
peror Charles V. Avho honored him with knighthood, created
liim count palatine, made his descendants pentkincn, and
assigned him a considerable ijciision out of the chamber at
Naples. The love of Charles V. for Titian was as great as tliat
of Francis I. fur Leonardo da Vinci ; and many particulars of
it are recorded. It is said, that the emperor one day.took up a

pencil,^

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 53

pencil, which fell from the hand of this artist, wlio was then
drawing his picture; and that, npon the compliment which
Titian made him on this occasion, he replied, " Tilian has
merited to be served hy Casar^ In short, some lords of the
emperor's court, not being able to conceal their jealousy upon
the preference he gave of Titian's person and conversation to
that of all his other courtiers, the emperor freely told them,
" that he could never want a court of courtiers, but could not
*' have Z'/Zm/j always with him." Accordingly he heaped riches
on him ; and whenever he sent him money, which was usually
a large sum, healways did it with this obliging testimony, that
*' his design was not to pay him the value of his pictures, be-
* 'cause they were above any price." He painted also his sonPhi-
lipll. Solyman, emperor of theTurks, two popes, three kings,
t\A o empresses, several queens, and almost all the princes of
Italy, together with the famous ^r/Wo and Peter Aretine^ Avho
were his intimate friends. Nay, so great wasthenameand re-
putation of Titian, that there was hardly a person of any emi-
nence then living inEurope, from whom hedidnotreceive some
particular mark of esteem: and besides, being of a temper
wonderfully obliging and generous, his house at Venice was
the constant rendezvous of all the virtuosi and people of the
best qualit3\ He was so happy in the constitution of his body,
that he had never been sick till the year 1576 ; and then he died
of the j)lague, aged ninety-nine, a very uncommon age for a
painter.

Titian left behind him two sons and a brother, of whom
Pomponio, the eldest, was a clergyman, and well preferred.
Horatio, the 3 oungest, painted several portraits, which might
stand in competion with those of his father. He was famous
also for many history pieces, Avhich he made at Venice, in
concurrence with Paul Veronese, and Tintorct. But bewitched
atlast with chemistry, and in hopes of finding the philosopher's
stoPic, he laid aside the pencil ; reduced what he got by his
father into smoak, and died of the phiguethesameyearwithhim.

Francesco Vecelli, Titian^s brother, was trained to arms
in the Italian wars ; but peace being restored, applied himself
afterwards to painting. He became so great a proficient in it,
that Titian grew jealous of him ; and fearing, lest in time he
should eclipse his reputation, sent him on pretended business
to Ferdinand king of the Romans. Afterwards he fell into

another

54 A CON'CISE HISTORY OF ART.

anr^ther profession, and made cabinets of ebony adorned with
figuies; wJiich, liowever, did not binder him IVom [)ainti!i'>-
now and then a portrait.

Andrea del Sarto, (so called because a tavlor'ii son) born
at Fiorence, A.D. 1478 ; was a disciple of Pietro di Coshno^
very careful and diligent in his works; and his color'ng was
Avonderfuily sweet: but hispictu.res oenerally wanted strength
and life, as well as their author, who Avas naturally miki, ti-
morous, and poor-sp'ritud. He wassentforto Paris, by /V£r??<:7'5
I. where he might iiave gatlu-red g'-eat riches, but that his
wife and relations would not su'dV r him to continue long there.
He lived in a mean and contemptible condition, l)ccausc he
set but a very little value upon his own performances: yet
the Florentines had sogreat anesteemfor hisworks,thatduring
the fury of the popular factions among them, they preserved
his pieces from the flames, when they neither spared chuiches,
nor anv thing else. He died of the plague, A.D. 1520.

Haphael, or Raffaklle, an illustrious painter of Italy,
was born at Urbino, on Good Friday 1483. His fatiier was an
ordinary painter : his master Pietro Perugino. Having a
penetrating understanding and a fine genius,he soon perceived
that t'le perfection of his art vwis not confined to Peruiiiud's
capacity ; and therefore went to Siena. Here Pinturicliio got.
him to be employed in making the cartoons for the pictures
of the librarv ; but he had scarcely finished one, before lie
Avas ternpted to remove toFlorence by the fame which Leonar-
do da riiici\sdi\d Michael ///^e^'/oV works obtained at that time,
Wlien he had cotisidered the manner of those illustrious pain-
ters, he resolved to alter his own, which he had learned of
Perugino. H:s ])uins and care were incredible ; and he suc-
ceeded accordingly. He formed his gusto after the
ancent st.itues and has reliefs, which he designed a long
time with extreme application ; and, besides this, he
hired people in Greece and It.dv, to design for him all the
antiques that couid be found. 'Fhus, he raised himself to the
top ol his profession. By general consent he is acknowledged
to have been the prince of modern painters, and is often
tin.es ^ tiled " the divine liafat/lt.''

Jin (fa lit was not only tlie best painter in the world, but
perhaps tiie best architect also : Leo X. charged him with the
buiiding of St. Pctcfs at Rome. He was one of the hand-
somest

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTI<;TS. 55

somestand best tempered men living: so tlut, with all these
natural and acquired accomplJsliinenis, it cannot be uondeied
at, that he was not onlv beloved in the iiij^'iest dt^gice ay the
])opi:sJu/ius II, and Leo X. at honi«, butaJnureJ and courtod
by all the princes and stales of Kurope. He lived in state aiid
splendor, n:\ost of the eminent masters in his time bemg ambi-
tious of working under him ; and he never went out without
a crowd of artistsand others, whoattended him purely tlirough
respect. Cardinal Bibiann offered him his niece lu marriape,
and Raff'iellc engaged himself; but, Leo X. having given 'nra
Jiopes of ii cardinal's hat, he made no haste to n.arry her. ILs
passion for the fair sex destroyed him in the ho'^ er of his af^e.

He died on his birth-day in j520. Cardinal Bcmbo wrote
his epitaph, which is to be seen upon his tomb in the church
of the Rotunda at Home, where he wa^ buried.

Hie hie est Raphael, timuit quo sospite vinci
Rerum magna parens, et moriente niori.

Raffitelle had many scholars ; but Julio Romano was his fa-
vorite, because he did him most credit. Pouss.n used to say
of Raffaelle, that " he was an angel compared with the mo-
dern painters, but an ass in comparison of the ancients."

Gio. Antonio Regillo da Pordenone, born at a pLce
so called; not far from Udine,iri the Vci.eiian territories, A. 1).
1434, after some time spent in letters and music, appHed anu-
self to painting ; yet without any other guide to conduct him,
beside his o\\ n j)rompt and lively genius, and the works of
Giorgione : v. Inch he studied at Venice with so much attvntion,
that he soon arrived to a manner of coloring nothing mfeiior
to his pattern. Butthat which tended yet mure to his luipi me-
nient,wasthe continued emulation betwixt himself and 7 ///V/a?,
with whom he disputed the superiority ; and for te.ir of be iig
insulted by his rival, painted (\vhile he was at Venice) wit.i
a sword by his side. This noble jealousy inspired him with an
elevation of thought, quickened his invention, and produceJ^
several excellent pieces in oil, distemper, and fresco, t'lom Ve-
iiice he went to Genoa, where he undertook some tilings in
competition with Pierinodel I'aga: but not bemg able to con>e
np to the perfections of Pierino\ pencil, lie returned to V •-
nice, and afterwards visited several other parts of Lombai cl ;
waskiiighted by the emperor Charles V. and utlast o-i ig seit

lor

56 A COKCISE HISTORY OF ART-

for to Ferara, was so much esteemed there, that he is said to
have been poisoned (A.D. 1540,) by some \\ ho envied the
fevors which he received from the duke. He renounced his
family name Licinio, out of hatred to one of h s brotliers, v.ho
attempted to murder him.

Sebastian© del Piombo, a native of Venice, A.D. I4S5,
was so named from an office given him by pope Clement VII.
in the lead mines. He Avas designed by his fatiier for the pro-
fession of music, which he practised for some time, with re-
putation ; till followir)g at last the more ]jower}ul dictates of
nature, he betook himself to painting, and became a disciple
of old Gio. Bellino : continued his studies under (riorgione ;
and having attained his excellent manner of coloring, Mcnt
to Rome ; where he insinuated himself so far into the favor
of Michael Angela, by siding with him and his party against
Itaffaelle, that pleased with the sweetness and beauty of his
pencil, he furnished him with some of his own designs, and
letting them pass under Scbastian\^ name, cried him up for the
best painter in Rome. And indeed so universal was the ap-
plause ■which he gained by his piece of Lazarus raised from
the dead, (the design of which i)adbeen given him by Michael
Angela) that nothing blit the famous transfiguration of Baf-
Jaelle could eclipse it. He has the name of being the first who
invented the art of preparing plaister-walls, for oil-painting
(with a composition of pitch, mastick, and quicklime) but was
generally so slow, and lazy in his performances, that other
haiids were oftentimes employed in finishing what he had be-
gun. He- died A.D. 1547.

Bar-Tolomeo (in the Tuscan dialect called Baccio) Ban-
DiNELLi, a Florentine painter and sculptor, born A.D. 14S7 ;
was a disciple of Gio. Francesco Busfici, and by the help of
anatomy, joined with other studies, became a very excellent
and correct designer : but in the coloring part was so unfortu-
nate, that after he had heard Michael Angela condenm it, tor
being hard and unpleasant, he never could be prevailed ujton
to make any farther use of his pencil: but always engaged
some other hand in coloring his designs. However, in sculp-
ture he succeeded better; and for a descent from the cross, in
mezzo-relicvo, was knighted by the emperor. He was like-
wise much in favor with Francis I. and acrjuired great rej)u-

tation

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTJSTS. 57

tation by several of his figures, and abundance of dra^vings :
which yet are more admired for their true outline, and pro-
portions, than for grace. He died A.D. 1559.

Julio Romano, born A.D. 1492, was the greatest arti t,
and most universal painter, of all the disciples of Raffaelle ;
was beloved by him, as if he had been his son, for the won-
derful sweetness of his temper; and made one of his heirs;
upon condition that he should assist in finisliing what he hi d
left imperfect. JRaffaellc died 1 520, and Romano continued in
Rome some years after; but the deatli of Leo X. which hap-
pened in 1522, would have been a terrible blow to him, if
Leo's successor Hadrian VI. had reigned long : for Hadrian
had no taste for the arts; and all the artists must have starved
imderhis cold aspect. Clement V[I. however, who succeeded
Hadrian, encouraged painters and painting ; and set Romano
to work in the hall oi Constant ine, and afterwards in other public
places. But his principal performances were at Mantua, where
he was sent for by the marquis Frederico Gonzaga; and in-
deed his good fortune directed him thither at a critical time :
for, having made the designs of twenty lewd prints, which
Marc Antonio engraved, and for which Arctine made inscrip-
tions in verse, he would have been severely punished, if he had
staid in Rome : for Antonio, was thrown into goal, and would
have lost his life, if the Cardinal de Medicis had not interposed.
la the mean time^ Romano at Mantua, left lasting proofs of his
great abilities, as well in architecture, as in pamting : by a
noble and stately palace, built after his model, and beautified
with variety of paintings after his designs. In architecture he
was so eminently skilful that he was invited back toRome,with
an offer of being the chief architect of St. Peter's church ;
but while he was debating with himself upon the proposal,
death carried him off, as it had done Raffaelle, who was romi-
nated byZcoX. to the same noble office. He died in 154f,

This painter had an advantage over the generality of his
order, by his great superiority in letters. He was profoundly
learned in antiquity ; and, by convei*sing with the works of
the most excellent poets, particularly Homer, had made him-
self an absolute master of the qualifications necessarily re-
quired in a grand designer.

Vol, IV. H part 2 Jacopo

5S A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Jacopo Caruci, called Puntormo, from the place of hi?
birtiijAD. 1493, studied under Leonardo da Imci, Marioito
Alhertinelli^ Putro diCosimc, nud Andrea delSarto: but chiefly
followed tlic manner of tlie last, both in design and coloring.
He was of so imliappy a tem})er of mind, that though hisworks
had stood the test even of Rajf'acllc and Michael Angela (the
best Judges) yet he coidd never order them so as to please liim-
self: and wat. so far from bemg satisfied with any thing he had
ever done, that he wiis in great danger of losing the grace-
fulness of his own manner, by imitating that of other (inferior)
masters,and particularly the style of Albert Durer'n\ his p; mts.
He spent most of his time at Florence, where he painted the
chapel of St. Laurence : but was so wonderl'ully tedious about
it, that in the space of eleven years he would admit no body
to see what he had performed. He was also of so mean and
pitiful a spu-it, that he chose rather to be employed by ordinary
people, for inconsiderable gains, than b\' princes and noble-
men, at more liberal rates; so that he died poor, A.D. 15j6
Giovanni d'Uhine, so named from the place where he
was born (being the metroijolis of Frioul) A.D. 1494; was
instructed bv G/ar^w;ie' at Venice, and at Rome became a
disciple oi RaffacUe: and is celebrated, for having been the re-
viver of stucco-work, (a composition of lime and marble pow-
der) in use among the ancient Romiiiis, and discovered in the
subterraneous vaults of I itus's palace ; which he restored to its
original splendor and perfection. He wasemployed hyRaffaelley
in adorning the apartments of the Vatican ; and afterwards by
several priiices, and cardinals, in the chief ]>alaces of Rome
and Florence: and by the agreeable variety and richness of
his fancy, and his peculiar happiness in expressing all sorts of
animals, fruit, flowers, and still Hfc, both in basso relievo, and
colors, acquired the reputation of being the best mast<>r in the
world, for decorationsand ornaments in stucco, and grotesque.
He died A.D. 156 1, and was buried, according to his desire,
in the Rotunda, near his dear master Raffadlc.

Antonio da Correggio, a most extraordinary painter, so
called from Correggio, a town in the dukedom of Modona ,
where he was born in 1494. He was a man of such adniifable
natural parts, that nothing but the unhappinee* of his educa-
tiou hindered him from lacing the best painter in the world.

For

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 59

' For his-circumstiinces aHorded him no opportunities of study-
ing cither at Rome or Florence: or ofconsultinf^ the antiques
for perfecting himself in design. Nevertheless he had a ge-
nius so subiimc, and a pencil so soft, tender, beautiful, and
charming, that Julio Romano having rcen a Leda and a Venus
painted l)v hini, for Firikric, duke oi Modtva, u ho intended
them as a present to the emperor, he declared he thought it
impossible for colors to go beyond them. Raffadlc% fame
temi)ted him at length to go to Rome. He considered atten-
tivel}' the pictures of that great painter; and after having
looked on them a long time in silence, he said, " Ed io.anche
son pittore," " I also am a painter." His chief works are at
Modena and Parma. At the latter place he painted two
4arge cupolas in fresco, and some altar-pieces. 'J'his artist is
remarkable for having borrowed nothing from the works of
•others. Every thing is new in hi? pictures, his conceptions,
his design, his coloring, his pencil; and his novelty is good.
His outlines are not correct, but their gusto is great. His
landscapes are equally beautiful with his figures.

Correggio spent the greatest part of his life at Parma ; and
notwithstanding, the many fine pieces he made, and his high
reputation, it is said by some (but denied by others) that he
was extremely poor, and obliged to work hard for the main-
tenance of his family, which was large. He was humble, mo-
dest, and devout, and died much lamented in 1534, when he
was but 40 years of age. The reported cause of his death was
a little singular, (iomg to receive 50 crowns for a piece he
had done, he was paid it in a sort of copper money, called
quadrinos. This was a great weight, and he had 12 miles to
carry it, though it wiis in the midst of summer. He was over
licaied and fatigued ; in which condition, indiscr^etely drink-
jiig cold water, he brought on a pleurisy, which put an end
to his life. — There is reason to think this report is not true,
but that he lived and died in comfort if not in splendor.

Battisto Franco, his cotemporary, a native of Venice,
Avas a disciple of J//t7?f/tV jingelo; whose manner he followed
so close, that in the correctness of his outline he surpassed most
of the .masters in his time. His paintings are pretty numer-
ous, xintl dispersed all over Italy, and other parts of Europe ;
but his coloring being very dry, they are not much more es-
tccn>cd than the prints which he etched. He died A.D. 1561.

H 2 Lucas

60 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Lucas van Lev den, so called from the place where he was
born, A.l). 1494, Avas at first a disciple of his father, a painter
of note; and afterwards of ComeliiK< Engelberl : and wonder-
fully esteemed in Holland, and the Low Countries, for his
kill in painting, and in cne^raving. He was prodigiously la-
borious, and a great emulator of Albert Durcr ; witli whom
he became at length so intimate, that they drew each other's
picture. And indeed their manner, and stile, are so much
alike, that it seemed as if one soul had animated them both.
He was magnificent both in his habit, and way of living .
and died A.I). 1533, after an interview betwixt him and some
other painters, at Middleburgh : where disputing, and falling
out in their clips, Lucas, fancying they had poisoned him, lan-
guished by degrees, and in six years' time pined a\^ a\', purely
Avith conceit.

QuiNTiN Matsys, sometimes called the farrier of Ant-
werp, famous for having been transformed from a blacksmith
to a painter, by the force of love. He had followed the tfade
of a blacksmith and farrier near twenty years; when falling
in love with a painter's daughter, who was handsome, and dis-
liked nothing in him but his profession, he quitted his trade,
and betook himself to painting : in which art, assisted by a
good natural taste, a master, and the power of love into the
bargain, he made a very uncommon and surprising progress.
He was a painful and diligent imitator of ordinary life, and
much better at representing the defects than the beauties of
nature. One of his best pieces is a descent from the cross, in
the chapel at the cathedral of Antwerp: by which, and a mul-
titude of other histories and ])ortraits, he gained a crowd of
admirers; especially for his labourious neatness, whicii in
truth was the principal part of his character. He died old iij
1529. His works are dispersed throughout Europe.

Car A V AGIO de Polidoro, so called from the place of his
bi^th, in the duchy of Milan, where he was born A.D. 1495.
He went to Rome at the time when Leo X. was raising new
edifices in the Vatican ; and, not knowing how to get his
bread otherwise, for he was very young, he hired himself to
carry stones and mortar for the masons there at work. He
drudged this way till he was eighteen, when it happened, that
several young painters were empkyedby RaffaeUe'm the same

place'

LlSr OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 61

place tocx'ccutehisdesigns. Polidoro, who often carried them
mortar to make their fresco, was touched with the sight of the
paintings, and solicited by his genius to turn painter. At first
jje aitached himself to the works of Giovanni (CUdini ; and
the pleasure he took to see that painter work, stirred up his
talent for painting. In this disposition, he was very officious to
t!ie young painters, and opened to them his intention : where-
upon they gave hipi lessons, which emboldened him to pro-
ceed. He applied himself with all his might to designing,
and advanced so prodigiously, that Raffaelle was astonished,
and set him to work witii the other young painters, and he
disiingushed himseif so much from all the rest, that, as he
had the greatest share in executing his master's designs in the
Vatican, so he had the greatest glory. The care he had seen
Jhip/iacl tiiki- , in designingthe antique sculptures, shewed him
the way to do the like. He spent whole days and nights in
designing those beautiful models, and studied antiquity to the
nicest exactness. He did very few easel pieces ; most of his
productions being in fresco, and in imitation of basso relievos.
He made use of a manner called scratching, consisting in the
preparation of a black ground, on which is placed a white
];laster : and by taking oft" this wh'te with an iron bodkin,
the black .ippears and serves for shadows : scratched work
lasts long, but, being very rough, is unpleasant to the sight.
He associated himself at first with Maturino, and their friend-
ship lasted till the death of the latter, who aied of the plao-ue,
in 1.526.

After this, PoUduro^ having filled Rome with his pieces,
thought to have enjoyed his ease, and the fruits of his labors,
w^hen the Spaniards in 1527 besieging that city, all the artists
were foieed to By, or were ruined by the miseries of the war.
In this exigence, Polidoro retired to Naples, where he was
obliged to work for ordinary painters. Seeing himself with-
out business, and forced to spend what he had got at Rome,
he went to Sicily ; and, understanding architecture as \\g\\ as
painting, the citizens of Messina employed him to make the
triumphal arches for the reception of Charles V. coming
from Tunis. This being finished, he thought of returning to
Rome, and drew his money out of the bank of Messina;
which his servant understanding, the night before his depar-
ture.

<52 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

tare, confederated with other rogues, seized him in his bed,
strant2:led him, and stabbed him. This done, they carried the
bodv to the door of his mistress, that it might be thought lie
M'as killed tliere by some rival, 'J'he assassins fled, and every
body pitied his untmiely fate. Among others his servant, in
the general sorrow, without fear of any one's suspecting
him, came to niake lamentations over him ; when a Sicilian
Count, one of Polidoro's friends, watching him, observed his
grief not to be natural, and thereujx)n had him taken up on
susp cion. He made a very bad defence ; and, being put to
the torture, confessed all, and was condemned to be drawn to
pieces by four horses. The citizens of Messina expressed a
hearty concern for Pclidord's untimeh- end, and interred Ihs
corpse honorably in the cathedral churcl). When this befel
him he was in his 48th year, A.D. i543.

PoUdor^^s genius was lively and fruitful ; and his studying
the antique basso relievos made him incline to represent bat-
tles, sacrifices, vases, trophies, and those ornaments wliich are
most remarkable in antiquities. But, what is altogether sur-
prising, is, that, notwithstanding his great application to an-
tique sculptures, he perceived the neccssit}' of the claro ob-
jKcuro in painting. Ido not fiiul this was known in the Roman
school before his time : he invented it, made it a principle of
the art, and put it in practice. The great masses of lights and
shadows which are in his pictures sl>ew he Avas convinced that
the eye of a spectator wanted repose, to view a picture with
ease. It is from this principle that, in the friezes which he
painted with white and black, his objects are grouped so art-
fully. His love of the antique did not hinder his studying na-
ture; and his gusto of design, which was great and correct,
ivas a mixture of the one and the other. His hand was easy and
cxeellen-t, and the airs of his heads bold, noble, and expres-
sive. His thoughts were sublime, his dispositions full of atti-
tudes well chosen ; his draperies well set, and his landscapes
of a good taste. His pencil was light and soft ; but after the
death of Rajfaelle he very seldom colored his pieces, applying
himself altogether to work in fresco in claro obscuro.

Rosso (so called from his red hair) born at Florence, A.D.
J1496 ; was educated in the study of philosophy ,music, poetry,
architecture, &.c. and having learned the fust rudiments of de-

sicra

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 65

sign from the Cartoons of Michael Angelo^ improved himself
by the help of anatomy; which he understood so avcII, that
he composed two books on that subject. He had a copious
invention, great skill in the mixture of his colors, and in the
distribution of iiis lights and shadows ; was very happy also in
his naked figures, which he expressed with a good relievo,and
proper attitufes ; and wouhi have excelled in all tlK; parts of
painting, had he not been too licentious and extravagant some-
times, and suffered himself rather to be hurrted away by the
heat of an unbounded fancy, than governed by his own judg-
ment, or the rules of art. From Florence he went to Rome
and Venice, and afterwards into France. He was Avell ac-
complished both in body and mind : and by his Avorks in the
galleries at Fontainbleau, and by several proofs which he gave
of his extraordinary knowledge in architecture, recommend-
ed himself so effectually to Francis I. that he made him su-
perintendant-general of all his buildings, pictures, &c. as also
a canon of the chapel ro3-al, allowed him a considerable pen-
sion, and gave him other opportunities of growing so vastly
rich, that for some time he lived like a prmce himself, in all
the splendor and magnificence imaginable: till being robbed
of a considerable sum of n)OQey, and suspecting one of his in-
timate friends {Francesco PcUigrinOj. a Florentine) he caused
him to be imprisoned, and put to the torture; which he un-
derwent with courage: and having in the highest extremities
maintained his innocence, Avith so much constancy, as to pro-
cure his release; Rosso, p.irtly out of remorse for the barbar-
ous treatment of his friend ; and partly out of fear of the ill
consequeuce of his just resentment, made himself away by
poison, A.D. 1541.

Francesco Prima tt'CCIO, was descended of a noble fa-
mily in Bologna. His friends, perceiving his strong inchnation
for design, permitted him to go to Mantua, where he was six
years a disciple o^ Julio Roynano. He became so skilfid, that
he represented battles in stucco and basso relievo, better than
any of the young painters at Mantua, who were Julio Ro7n a-
no's pupils. He assisted Julio Romanoin executing his designs j
and I'vancis I. sending to Rome for a man that understood
works in stucco, Primaticcio was chosen for this service. The
king sent him to Rome to buy antiques, in 1540; and he

brought

64 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

brought back a hundred and fourscore statues, -with a great
number of bnstos. He had moulds made by Giacomo Baroccio
di Vignola of the statues of Venus, Laocoon, Commodus, the
Tiber, the Nile, the Cleopatra at Belvidere, and Trajan's pil-
lar, in order to have them cast in brass. After the death of
Rosso ^ he succeeded him in the place of superintendant of the
buildings; and in a little time finished the gallery, which his
predecessor had begun. He brought so man}' statues of marble
and brass to Fontainbleau, tli.it it seemed another Rome, as
ivell for the number of the antiquities, as for his own works
in painting and stucco. He was so much esteemed in France,
that nothing of an 3- consequence was done without him, which
had relation to painting orbnilding. He directed the prepara-
tions for festivals, tournaments, and masquerades. He was
made abbot of St. Martin's at Troyes, and was respected as a
courtier as well as a painter. He and Rosso shewed the French
a good gusto ; for, before their time, Avhat they had done in
the arts was very inconsiderable, and something Gothic. He
died in a good old age, having been favored and caressed in
four reiffns. About 90, A.D. 1570.

Don Giulio Clovio, a celebrated limner, born in ScJavo-
nia, A.D. 1498, at the age of eighteen went to Italy: and
under yi///o Romano^ applied himself to miniature, with such
admirable success, that never did ancient Greece, or modern
Rome produce his fellow. He excelled both in portraits and
histories : and (as Fo^sr/r/ his cotemporary reports) wasanotlier
Titian \a tlie one, and a second Michad Angdo in the other.
He was entertained for some time in the service of the king
of Hungary : after whose decease he returned to Italy ; and
being taken prisoner at the sacking of Home by the Spaniards,
made a vow to retire into a convent, as soon as ever he should
recover his liberty ; which he accordingly performed, not
]ong after, in Mantua: but upon a dispensation obtained from
the pope, by cardinal Grimani^ he laid aside the religious
habit, antl was received into the family of tiiat prince. His
works were wonderfully esteemed throughout Europe: highly"
valued by several popes, !)y the emperors Charles V. •^r\(^ Max-
imilian II. by Philii) king of Spain, and many othcrillustrious
personages, engraved by yllhcrt /)«?t/' himself, andso nnicliad-
mircd at Rome, that those pieces which lie wrought for the

cardinal

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 65

cardinal Farnese (in whose palace he s])ent the hitter part of
his life) vrere hy all tjie lovers of art reckoned in the number
of rarities of that city. Died A.D. 1578.

John Holbein, better known by his German name Hans,
was born at Basil in Swisserland in 1498, as manysay ; though
Charles Putin places his birth three years earlier. He learned
tlic rudiments of liis art from his father John Holbein, a pain-
ter, who had removed from Augsburg to Basil ; but his o-e-
nius soon raised him above his master. He painted our Sa-
viour's P.ission in the town-house at Basil j and also in the
fish-niarket of the same town, a dance of peasants, and death's
dance. Holbein, tliough a great genius and fine artist, iiad
no elegance or delicacy of manners, but was given to Avine
and revelling com;iany : for which he met with a rebuke from
his friend the celebrated Erasmus.

It is said that an English nobleman, who accidentally saw
some o? Holbein's performances at Basil, invited him to Eng-
land, wherehisart was in high esteem ; and promised himgreat
encouragement from Henry VIII. ; but HJbein was too much
engaged in his pleasures to embrace the proposal. A few years
after, however, moved by the necessities to which an increased
family and his ow^n mismanagement had reduced him, as well
as by the persuasions of his friend Erasmus, he consented to
gd to England : and he consented the more readily, having a
termagant for his wife. In his journey he staid some days at
Strasburg, and applying, as it is said, to a very great master
in that city for work, was taken in, and ordered to give a spe-
cimen of his skill, Holbein finished a piece with great care,
and painted a fxv upon tlie most eminent part of it ; after
which he withdrew privily in the absence of his master, and
pursued his journey. When the painter returned home, he
Avas astonished atthebeautyand elegance of the drawing ; and
especially at the fly, which, upon his fir-t castinir hi.s eye
upon it, he so far took for a reai iiy, th^it he endeavoured to
remove it with his hand. He sent all over the city for his jour-
nej^man, who was now missing; but after many enquiries,
found that he had been thus deceived by the famous Holbein.
After l)egging his way to England, which Patin tells us he
almost did, he found an easy admittance to toe then lord chan-
cellor, Sir Toomas More : for he had brought v/ith him P.ras-
Vol. IV. / pari 2 mus^s

66 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

f7ius's picture, aacl letters recommendatory from him. Sir
Thomas kept him in his house between two and three years;
durii-i^ which titne he drew Sir Thomas's picture, and many of
his frici.ds and relations. One day Holbein happening to men-
tion the nobleman who had some years ago invited him to
England, Sir Thomas was very solicitous to know who he was.
Holbein replied .that he had indeed forgot his title,bat remem-
bered his face SI) well, tl«at he could draw his likeness ; which
he did : the nobleman, it is said, wasimmediately known by it.
The chancellor determined to introduce him to Henry VIII.
xvhich he did in this manner. He invited the king to an en-
tertainment, and hung up all //oMg?>z'5 pieces, disposed in the
best order, and in the best light, in his great hall. The king,
upon his entrance, was so charmed with them, that he asked,
** Whether such an artist was now alive, and to be had for
mouey ?" Upon which Sir Thomas presented Holbein to the
kin», who took him into his service, and brought him into
great esteem with the nobility. The king from time to time
manifested his great value for him,and upon the death of queen
Jane, his tlurd wife, sent him into Flanders, to draw the pic-
ture of theduchess dowager of Milan, widow to Francis Sf or za,
whom the emperor Charles V. had recommended to him for
a fourth wife; but the king's defection from the see of Rome
happening about that time, he rather chose to match with a
proiestant princess, in hopes to engage the protestant league
in Germany in his interest. Cro7}i'wdl, then his prime-minister,
(for Sir 'I hornas More was removed and beheaded), proposed
Aime of Clcves to him ; but tiie king was not over fond of the
match, till her picture, which Cromxvcll had sent Holbein to
draw, was presented to him : where, as lord Herbert of Cher-
bury says, she was rejn-esented l>y this master so charming,
that the king resolved to many her ; and afterwards, that he
hiight not disoblige the princes of Germany, actually did
marry her ; though, when he saw the lad}', he was disgusted
at her.

In England Holbein drew a number of admirable portraits.
He painted alike in every manner ; in fresco, in water-co-
lours, in oil, and in miniature. He was eminent also for a
rich vein of invention, very conspicuous in a multitude of

designs,

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS> 67

designs, which he made for et?graveir«,.scuIpto.r5,jeweneFSy&c.
He had the same singt>larity, whkle J^limf meiitio?« of fiir-
pilms a Roman, namelj,, that crf paiuting with Ms left Iiarfcl.
He died of the plague ut -London in 1554, and at liis lodging!*
at Whitehall, where he hiid lived from the time that th* iing
became his patron.

Cotemporary with these masters was Ugo ha C.ARpr, a
painter, considerable only for having (in tlicyear 1500) found
out the art of printing in cltiaro-oscuro : which he perfonaecl
by means of two pieces, or plates of box : one Cff which serv-
ing for tl^e outlines and shadows., the other imprinted wltat-
ever colour was laid upon it : And the plate being cut out,
and hollowed in proper places, left the white paper for the
lights, and made the print appear as if heightened with a
pencil. This invention he afterwards improvedj by addir»g
a third plate, which served for the middle-tints; and made
his stamps so compleat, tliat several famous masters, and
among them ParmegianOy published a great many excellent
things in this wa}'.

Benvenuto Cxllini, a celebrated sculptor and engraver
of Florence, was born in 1500, and intended to be trained to
music; but, at 15 years of age, bound himself, contrary to
his father's inclinations, apprentice to a jeweller and gold-
smith, under whom he made such a progress, as presently to
rival the most skilful. He discovered an early taste for draw-
ing and designing, which he afterwards cultivated. He ap-
plied himself also to seal engravings, learned to make curious
damaskeenings of steel and silver on Turkish daggers, &c.
and was very ingenious in medals and rings. But CdUnieX'
ceiled in arms, as well as in arts: and Clemtnt VII. valued him
as much for his bravery as for his skill in his profession.
When the duke of Bourbon laid siege to Rome, and the city
was taken and plundered, the pope committed the castle o'f
St. Angdo to Cellini i Avho defended it like a man bred to arms,
and did not suffer it to surrender but by capitulation,

Cdlinf was one of those great wits, who may truly be said
to have bordered on madness: he was of a desultory, capri-
cious, unequal humour; and this involved him perpetually in
adventures, which were often near being fatal to him. He
travelled among the cities of Italy, but chieflyresided at Rome ;

/ 2 where

68 A CONCISE HISTORY OF' ART.

Avhere he was sometimes in favor w ith tiie great, and some-
times out.

He consorted with all the first artists in their several ways,
Avitii MicJiaei Angdo, Julio Koviuno^ ^c. Finding himself at
len;Ttli upon ill terms in It.ily, he formed a resolution of going
to France ; and, passing from Rome through Florence, Bo-
logn.i, and Venice, he arrived at P.^dua, w here he was most
kindly received bv,and made some sti^' Avith,the famous Pie-
tro Ljmbo. From Padua he travelled t'irough Swi;seriand, vi-
site J Geneva in his v. ay to Lyons, and, alter r;;iting a few diiys
in this last city, arrived safe at Paris. Flc met with a gracious
reception i\-om Frxncisl. who would have t..ken him into lii.s
service; but, conceiving a dislike to p>ance from a sudden
iilnes-3 he fell into there, he returned to Italy. He was scarcely
arrived, when, being accused of hnving robbed the castle of
^t. Angela of a great treasure at the time that Rome was sa' ked
bv ae Spaniards be was arrested a;i.l sent pr.soncr thi^iier.

Being sot at libe ty. after many harusiiipa an.i difHcultie.^,
iie en erqd into the service of the French king, and set out
with tiie c"-rdinal of F 'vrara lor Paris; when-, when they ar-
rived, being h.g''y di gusted at the earduial's proposing what
he thoiignt an inc^-isiderable salary, this wild nuin goes oil
abruptly uooa r pilgrimape to Jerusalem. He was, however,
pursued and breugh' back to the king,wlio settled a hand.-ome
salary upon han,as?'.ig:njd him a house to w'ork in at Paris, and
granted bin; shortly after a naturalization. But here, getiui;;
as usual into s cra]>es and quarrels, and particularly having ol-
fended Madame tCEstnmpcs, the king's mistress, he was ex-
posed to endless trouoles and pers-ecnt ions ; with wiiicli at
length being wearied out, he obtained the king's permission
to return to Italy, and went to Florence ; where he was kindly
received by Cosmo dc M.diciSj the grand duke, and engaged
himself in his service. Here, again, disgusted with some of
the duke's servants, (for he could not accommodate himself
to, or agree with, any body) he took a trip to Venice, where
he was greatly caressed by Titian, Sansoxi)w, and other in-
geiiious artists ; but, after a short stay, returned to Florence,
and resumed his business. He died in loTO.

PiFRiNo f/£r/ Vaga, was born at Florence, A.D. loOO, of
such mean [)arentage, that his niother dying when he was two

months

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARFISrS, 69

months old, he w.is suckled bv a goat. The name of Faga he
took from a country y)a;nter,who carried him to Home : where
he left him in such poor circumstances, that he was forced to
spend three days of the week in v\orkii)g fn* breatl ; bur yet
setting apart the other three for in)provcment; in a little time,
by studving the antique, together with the works oi RaffaeUcy
and ^lichad Angdoy he became one of the boldest, and rhost
graceful designers of the Roman school: and understood the
n)uscles in naked bodic , arid all tiie diificulties of the art so
vrell, that llaffaelle took an atlection to lum, and employing
him HI the pope's a))artments, gave him a lucky opportunity
of distinguishing himself from his fellow disciples, by the
beauty of his coloring, and his talent in decorations and gro-
tesque. His chief works are at Genoa, where he grew famous
liken-ise for his skill in architecture ; having designed a noble
palace for prince Z)o/7V/, which he also painted and adorned with
his own hand,. From Genoa he removed to Pisa, and afterwards
to several other parts of Italy ; his rambling himiour never
suffering him to continue long in one place : till at lengtli re-
turning to Rome, he had a pension settled on him, for look-
ing after the pope's palace, and the Casa Farnese. But Pie-
vino having sjuandered away in his youth, that which should
have been the support of his old age; and being constrain d
at last to m.ale himself cheap, b}' undertaking an v little |)ieces,
for a small sum of ready money, fell into a deep melancholy,
and from that extreme into another as bad, of wine and women,
and the next turn M'as into his grave, A.D. 1547.

Francesco Mazzuoli, called Parmegiano, because born
ut Parma, A.D. 1504, was brought up under his two uncles j
v.as an eminent painter, when but sixteen years old; famous
all over Italy at nineteen ; and at twenty-three performed
such wonders, that when the emperor Charles V. had taken
Rome by storm, some of the common soldiers in sackmg the
tov^n, having broke into his apartments, and found ban (like
J'yrAogenes of old) intent on his work, were so astonished at the
b-.-auty of his pieces, that instead of plunder and destruction,
which was then their business, they resolved to protect him
(as they afterwards did) from all manner of violence But
besides the perfections of his pencil (which was one of the
most genteel, most graceful, and most elegant in the world)

*0 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

he delighted in music, and tliercin also excelled. His prfncipa]
works are at Parma ; where, for several years, he lived in great
reinilation; till falling unhappily into the study of chemistry,
he wasted the most considerable part of his time and fortunes
in search of thephilosopher's-stone,anddicdpoor,inthe flower
of his age, A. D. 1 540. There are extant many valuable jirints
by this master, not only in chiaro oscuro, but also in aqua
fortis, of which he is said to have been the inventor: or at
least, the first who practised the art of etching, in Italy.

GiAcoMo Palma, commonly called Pali^ia Veccio, (i. e.
the old) was born at Serinaha, in the state of Venice, A. D.
1508, and made such good use and advantage of the instruc-
tions which he received from Titian, that few masters have
shewn a nobler fancy in their compositions ; better iudgincnt
in their designs ; more of nature in their expression, and airs
of heads ; or of art in finishing their works. Venice was where
he usually resiiled, and where he died, A. 1). 1 536. His pieces
are not very numerous, by reasonof hishaving spcut much time
in bringing tliose which he has left behind him, to perfection.

Daniele RicciARELLi, surnamod da Volterra, from a
town in Tuscany, where ho was horn, A.D. I50t', was of a
melancholy and heavy teni[)er, and seemed but meanlv quali-
fied by nature for an artist : yet by the instructions o^ Bait ha'
sar da Siena ^awdhxsoww applicatirn and industry,he surmount-
ed all difficulties ; and at length became so excellent a de-
signer, that his descent from the cross, in the church of the
Trinity on ttie mount, is ranked amongst the best pieces in
Rome. He was chosen by }>oi)e Paul IV. to cloath some of
the nudities in Michad Angeio'^ last judgment : which he per-
formed with good success. He was as eminent likewise for
his chissel as his pencil, and wrought several considerable
things in sculpture, died A.D. 1566.

Francesco Salviati, a Florentine, born A.D. 1510, Avas
at first a disciple o^ Andrea del S'arto, and afterwards of Baccio
Bandinclli ; and very well esteemed both in Italy and France,
for his several works in fresco, distemper, and oil. He was
quick at invention, and as ready in the execution; graceful
in his naked figures, and as genteel in his draperies ; yet his
talent did not lie in grand compositions ; and there are some of
his pieces in two colors only, which have the name of being

iiis

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 71

his best performances. He^vas naturally so fond and conceited
of h.s own works, that he could hardly allow any body else a
good word: and it is said, that the jealousy which he had ot
some young men then growing up into reputation, made him
so uneasy that the %'^ery apprehension of their proving better
artists.than himself, hastenerl his death, A.D. 1563.

PiRRO LiGORio, a noble Neapolitan, lived in this time:
and though he chiefly studied architecture, aiid for his skill
in that art wa,sein ployed, and highly encouraged by pope Paul
IV. andhis successor Piu%\V. vet he was also an excellent de-
signer ; and by the many cartoons which he made for tapes-
tries, &c, (as well as by his writings) gave sufficient proof,
that he was well learned in the antiquities. ""Ihere are several
volumes of his designs preserved in the cabinet of the duke of
Savov : of which some part consists in a curious collection of
all the ships, gallies, and other sorts of vessels, in use amongst
the ancients. He was engineer to Alphonsus II. the last duke
of Ferrara, and died about the year 1573.

GiACOMo dii PoNTE cla Rassano, so called from the place
where he was born, (in the Marca Trevisana) A.D. 1,510, was
at first a disciple of his father ; and afterwards of Bonifacio^
a better painter, at Venice : b}' whose assistance, and his own
frequent copying the works of Titian^ and Parmegiano, he
brought himself into a pleasant and most agreeable way of
coloring: but returning into the country, upon the death of
his father, he applied himself wholly to the imitation of nature;
and from his wife,childrenand servants, took the ideas of most
of his figures. His works are very numerous, all the stories
of the Old and New Testament having been painted by his
hand, besides a nmltitude of other histories. He was famous
also for several excellent portraits. In a word, so great was
tht reputation of this artist at Venice, that ZY/Za/i himself was
glad to purchase one of his pieces (representing the entrance
of Noah and his family into the ark) at a very considerable
price. He had made himself well acquainted with history, and
having likewise a good deal of knowledge in polite literature,
this furnished him with exctrllent subjects. He had great suc-
cess in landscape and portraiture. He iias also drawn sev^eral
night pieces ; butit is said iie found great difficulty in repre-
senting feet itnd hands, and for this reason these parts are

generally

72- A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

gcncrall3'hid in his pictures, lumbal Currache,v;\\Q,n he went
to see Bassayio, was so far deceived by the representation of ft
book painted on the wall, tliat lie went to lay hold of it.

He was earnestly sohcited to go into the service of the ( in-
peror : but so charming were the pleasures wiiich he found in
the quiet enjoyment of painting, music, and good books, that
no temptations whatsoever could make him change his cot-
tage for a c( art. He died A.D. 1392, leaving behind him
four sons: oi whom

Francesco, the eldest, settled at Venice: where he followed
the manner of !ils f.ither, and was well esteemed, for divers
pieties in theducul palace, and other public jWaces, in conjunc-
tion with Paul Veronese y Tintorety &c. But his too close ap-
plication to p. anting ha . ing re.idered iiini unfit for other bu-
siness, am! ignorant even of his own private nffairs ; he con-
tracted by degrees a deep melancholy, and at last became so
much crazejjthatfancving Serjeants were continuallyin pursuit
ofiiim,heI ;ipedoutofhis\vindovvt.oavoid thcm(asheimagmcd)
and by the fall occasioned his owndeath, A.D. 159 i. aged 43.

Llandro, the third son, had so excellent a talent in face-
painting, (whichhe principally studied) that he was knighted
^or a [jortrait he made of thedogeil/^?'m Grimani. He likewise
iinished several things left impevlect by his \i\'0\\\i^\ Franceseo ;
composed some history pieces also of his own ; and was as
mucli admired for his perfection in music, as his skill in paint-
ing. Died A.D. 1623, r:ged C>b.

Gig BATTisTA,thesecondson,andGiROLAMotl'e youngest,
applied' themselves to making copies of their father's works;
wh;ch they did so very well, thatthey are oftentimes taken for
originals. Gio Bailisia died A.D. 1613, aged GO. and Giro-
laino, A.'D. 1622, aged 62.

GiAcoMo RoBUsxr, called Tintoretto (because a dyar's
SJii) born at Venice, A.D. 1512, was a disciple of IMtian,
who having observed something extraordinary in his genius,
di: missed him from his family, for fear he should grow up to
rival hiS maitcr. Yet he pursui'd Tituoi's way of coloring, as
tie most natural ; and studied Mich ad Aug eld's gusto of design
as the most correct. Venice was the j^late of iiis constant
abode, where he was made aciti/en,and woiuterfully beloved,
and esteemed tor his works. He was called the furious lintoret

for

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 73

for his bold m.iiiiier of painting, vith stronj^ lights and deep
shadows; for tlic rapidity of his genius; and for his grand
vivacit) of spirit, much admired hy Paul I'evcnese. But then,
lie was blamed by him, and all others of his profession, for un-
dervaluing himself, and his art, by undertaking all sorts of bu-
siness for any price ; thereby making so great a diiicrence in
liis several performances, that {asl/a/.:n'ba/ Car rache observed)
Ije is sometimes equal to Titian, and at other times inferior to
himself. He wasextrcmcly pleasant, and affable in his luimour:
and delighted so much in paintin-,': and music, his beloved
studies, that he would hardly suffer himsell to taste any other
pleasures. He died A. D. 1594; living had one daughter
and a son : of whom the eldest

Marif.tta Tintoretta, was so well instructed by her fa-
ther, in his own profession, as well as in music, that in both
ai Is she got great reputation, and was particularly emnent for
an admirable style in portraits. She married a Gern)an, and
died in her prinie, A.D. 1590; equally lamented both by her
husband and her father ; and so much beloved by the latter,
that he never would consent she should leave him, though she
had been invited by the emperor Maximilian, bv Fliilip II.
king of Spain, and by several other princes to their courts.

DoMENicoTiNTORRETTo, hissou, gavc great hopes in his
youth, that he would one day render the name of Tintoret yet
more illustrious than his father had made it: but neglecting to
cultivate by study the talent whicli nature had given him, he
fell short of those mighty things expected from him ; and be-
came more considerable for portraits than for historical com-
positions. He died A.D. J637,aged75.

Paris Bordoxe, well descended, and brought up to let-
ters, music, and other genteel accomplishments, wasadisciple
of Titian, and flourished in the time of Tintoret : but was
more commended for the delicacy of his pencil than the purity
of his out-lines. He was in great favour and esteem with
Francis I. for whom, besides abundance of histories, he made
the portraits of several court ladies, in so excellent a manner,
that the original nature was hardly more charming. From
France he returned home to Venice, laden with honor and

Vol. IV. ' K part 2 riches;

74 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

ticlics; and having acquired as much reputation in all parts
of Italy as he had doiic abroad, died aged 75.

Georgto Vasari, a Florentine painter, equally famous for
the pen and pencil, and eminent for his :?kill in architecture,
Mas born at Arczzo, a city of Tuscany, in 1514. He was
at first a disciple of IVilliam of Marseilles, who painted upon
glass, afterwards of Andrea del SartOy and at last of Michael
Angelo. Vasari \\7\.% not, like some other painters, hurried on
to this profession by natural inclination: for it is probable, that
he mitde choice of it i'rom prudence and reilection, more than
from the impulse of genius. When the troubles of Florence
"wereover,he returned to his own country, where he found his
father and mother dead of the plague, and five brethren left to
his care, whom he was forced to maintain by the profits of his
labor. He painted in fresco in the towns about Florence;
but, fearing this would not prove a sufficient maintenance, Ire
<|uitted his profession, and turned goldsmith. But this not an-
swering, he again applied himself to painting ; and with an
earnest desire to become a master. He was indefatigable in
designing the antique, and studying the best pieces of the most
noted masters ; he very much improved his design, by copy-
ing entirely Michael Jngclo's c\r.\\ie\, yet he joined with Salvi-
atim designing all Iiuf/'ael/e's works : by which he improved
his invention and hav.d to such a degree, that he attained a
wonderful freedom in both. He did not pay a vast attention
to coloring, b.aving no very true idea of it : on which account
his works, though he was an artful designer, did not acquire
him the reputation he expected. Me was a good a'lchitect,
and understood ornaments very well; and he executed innu-
merable works this way, as well as in painting. He spent the
most considerable part of his life in travelling over Italy, leav-
ing in all places marks of his industry.

lie was a writer as well as a painter. He wrote " A His-
tory of the Lives of the most eminent Painters, Sculptors,
Architects,*' &.c. whicli he firs' published at Florence, in 2 vols.
1550; and reprinted in l.;63, with large additions, and the
heads of most ol the masters. This work was undertaken at
the request of the Cardinal de Medicis, who was very much his
imtron ; and in the opinion of Jlaiutibal Caro, is written with
great veracity and judgment : though Fdibien and others tax

hint

LIST OF THE PRiKCIPAL ARTISTS. iJ

him with some faults, particularly with flattering the masters
then living, and with partiality to those of hiii own country.
He published also, " Reflections on his own pictures:" of
which the chief arc at Rome, Florence, and l^ologna. He
died at Florence in 1378, aged 64 : and was carried to Arezzo,
where he was buried in a chapel, of which he himself had
beeai the architect.

Andrea Palladio, a celebrated Italian architect, born
A. D. \5 IS, was a native of Vicenza in Lomhardy. He was
one of those wlio labored particularly to restore the ancient
beauties of architecture, and contributed greatly to revive
true taste in that science. As soon as he had learned the
piinciples of that art from George T)issimis a learned man,
who was a Patrician or Roman nobleman, of the same town
of Vicenza, he went to Rome; where applying himself with
great fliligence to study the ancient monuments, he entered
into the spirit of their architects, and possessed himself of all
their beautiful ideas. This enabled him to restore their rules,
which had been corrupted by the barbarous Goths. He made
exact drawings of the principal works of antiquity which
were to be met with at Rome; to which he added " Com-
mentaries," which went through several impressions, with the
iigures. This, though a very useful work, yet is greatly
exceeded by the four books of architecture, which he pub-
lished in 1 570. The last book treats of the Roman Temples,
and isexecutedin such a manner, as gives him the preference
to all his predecessors upon the subject. It was translated
into French by Roland Friatt, and into English by several au-
t!inr>;. Im'go Jones wrote some excellent remarks upon it,
which were published in an edition of Palladio by Leoni,
1712, in 2 vols, folio.

Aktonio More, born at Utrecht, in the Low Countries,
A.D. 1519, was a tlisciple of John Schcorel, and in his younger
days had seen Home, and some other parts of Italy. He was
recounnended by Cardinal Granville^ to the service of the
l-lmoeror Charleys V. and having made a portrait of his son
Philip If. at Madrid, was sent upon the same account to the
kmg, queen, and princess of Portugal; and afterwards into
England, to draw the picture of queen Mary. From Spain he
retired into Flanders, where he became a mighty favorite of
ihe duke of Alva (then governor of the Low Countries.) And

K 2 beside

76 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART,

besides the noble pre-ents and aj^plause, whicl) he gained in
all place^ by his pencil, was as much admired for liis extraor-
dinary address; being as great a courtier, as a painter. His
talent lay in u'jbigning vcrv justly, in finishing his pieces with
Avonderf.ii care and neatness, and in a most natural imitation
of flesh aiid blood, in his coloring. Yet after all, he could not
reach tliat noble strength and spirit, so visible in the works
of Titian. He made several attempts in history-pieces ; but
understood nothing of grarul compositions; and his iTianner
was tame, I'.ard, and dry He died at Ant\^erp, A.D. 1675.

Pa(lo Farinato, of Verona, was (it is said) cut out of
his mother's bell>', who died in labor, A.D. 1522. He was a
disciple of Nkolo Golfino, and an admirable designer ; but
not altogether happy in his coloring : though there is a piece
of his painting in St. Georgt'^ church, at Verona, so well pcr-
forrhfid in both parts, that it does not seem to be inferior to
one oi Paul Ferojiesc. which is placed next to it. He was
famous fam Martc (jiiam Mcrcurio; being an excellent swords-
man, and a very good orator. He was considerable likewise
for his knowledge in sculpture and architecture, especially
that part of it which rchites to fortifications, &c. tlis last
moments were as remarkable as his first, for the death of bis
nearest relation. He lay upon his deathbed, A.D. 1606:
and his wife, who was sick in the san)e room, hearing him
cry out, he was going ; told him, she would bear him com-
pany; and was as good as her word : they both expiring the
same minute.

Andiif. A ScHiAvoKE, SO callcd from the country where Iic
was born, A.D. 1.522, was so meanly descended, that his pa-
retits, after they had brought him to Venice, were not able to
alford him a master : and yet by great study and pains, toge-
ther with such helps as he received ft om the prints of Partiw-
giano^ and the paintings of Giorgione and Titian, he arrived
at last to degrees of excellence very surprising. Being-
obliged to work for his daily bread, he could not spare time
sufficient for making himself perfect in design : but that de-
fect was so well covered, with the singular beauty and sweet-
ness of his colors, that Tin tortt used often times to say, no
painter ought to be without one piece (at least) of his hand.
His principal works were composed at Venice, some of them
in concurrence with Tintorat himself, and others by the di-
rections

LlSr OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 77

ycctioiis of Tifictii, in tlic librarv of St. Mark. Rut so nialicious
was fortune to \)Oov Andrea , that his pictures were but little
valued in his lifetime, and lie never was paid any otherwise for
them, than as an ordinary painter : thoujyh after his decease,
which happened A.D. 1582, his works turned to a much
better account, and were esteemed answerable to their merits,
and but little inferior to those of his most famous cotempo-
raries.

Federtco Barrocci, born ni the city ofUrbin, A.D. 1528,
was trained up in the art of design by Baitista Vcnetianoi
and having at ??ome acquired a competent knov^•ledge in
geometry, perspective, and architecture, applied })imself to
the works of his most em.inent predecessors: and in a par-
ticular manner stuaied his countryman RaffaeUe ?.x\(\ Corregio;
one in the charmino- airs, and irraceful outlines of his fio-ures;
the other in the admirable union, and agreeable harmony of
his Colors, lie had not been long in Rome, before some,
malicious painters, his competitors, found means (by a dose
of poison, conveyed into a sallad, with which they treated
him) to send him back again into his own country, attended
with an indisposition so terribly grievous, that for above fifty
years together it seldom permitted him to take any repose,
and never allowed him above tv« o hours in a day, to follow
his painting. So that expecting, almost every moment, to
be removed into another world, he employed his pencil al-
together in the histories of the Bible, and other religious
subjects: of which he wrought a considerable number, in
the short intervals of his painful fits, and notwithstanding the
severity of them, hvcd till the j-ear 1612, with the character
of a man of honor, and virtue, as well as the name of one of
the most judicious, and graceful painters, that has eve?
been.

Taddeo Zucchero, born at St. Angela in Vado, in the
duchy of Urbin, yV.D. 1.521), was initiated in the art of paint-
ing at home, by Jiis father; and at Home instructed by Gio,
Pietro Calabrc: but improved himself most by the study of
anatomy, and by copying the works of Baffaelle. He excelled
chiefly in a florid inventio!i, a genteel manner of design, and
in the good disposition and ceconqmy of his pieces: but was
not so much admired for his coloring, which was generally
npleasant, and rather resembled the statues than the life.

Rome,

78 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Home, Tivol", Fit renc e, Capraroia, and Venice, were *he
places where he distingu!f^hed himself; but left many
tilings uuriiushed, being snatched a^va^• in his prime, A. D,

l*AOLO Caliari, il Veronese, born A.lJ. 1532, ^as adis-
ciple of his uncle ^///o«/o Bml'lc : and not only esteemed the
most excellent of all the Lombard painters, but \or h\^ copious
and admirable invention, for t.ic grandeur and mdjesty of his
composition, for the beauty and perfection of hisxiraperies,
topret her with his noble ornaments of architecture, vtc. he is
stiicd by the Italians, II Pit lor J dice (the happy painte..) He
svient most of his time at Venice; but the best of h.s works
Mere made after he returned thither fioui Rome, and had stu-
died the antique. He could not be p.evailed upon by the
j^reat oders made him by Pliilii) II. of p^in, to le^ve his own
countrv; where his reputation was so well established, that
moat of the princes of Europe sent to their several ambassa-
dors, to procure them somethirrg of his hand, at any rates.
He was a person of a subliaieand noble spirit, used to goric hly
dressed, and generally wore a gold chain, which had been
presented him by the procurators of St. il/ar/r, as a prize he
won from several artists his compet:tor^>. He was highly in
favor with all the principal men in his time : and so much ad-
mired bv all the great masters, as well co-temporaries, as
those who succeeded hlin, that Titian himself used to say, he
was the ornament of his profession ; and Guido Reni being
aiked, which of the masters his predecessors he would chuse
to be, were it in his power; after Ixafjaelle and Corrti^ioy
mimed Paul Ti ronese ; whom he always called hi<. Paolino.
He died at Venice, A.D. 1588 ; leaving great wealth behind
him to his two sons,

Gabrielle and Carlo, who lived very happilv together,
joined in finishing several pieces left imperfect by their lather,
and followed his manner so close in ether excellent things of
their own, that they are not easily distinguished from those
a^ Paulo's hand. Carlo wouKl have performed wonders, had
he not been nipt in the bud, A.D. 1 J96, aged 26: after whose
decease G'a/;//t//t' applied himself to merchandize; yet did not
quite la3' aside his pencil, but made a considerable number
of portraits, and some history pieces of a very good gusto.
Died A.D. 16J1, aged 63.

Ben'ldetto

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 'J^

Benedetto Caliari lived and stu lied wit') liis brotlicr
Paulo, whom he loved affectionately ; and frequentj}' assisted
him and his nephews, in finishincr several of their composi-
tion? ; but especially in pair:t'n<jj architecture, in which he
chiefly delighted. He practised for the most p;irt in fresco :
and some of his best pieces are in chiaro-oscur ). He was be-
sides, master of a respectable stock of Icurninjj;, was poeti-
cally inclined, and had a peculiar talent in satire. He died
A.D. 1598, aged 60.

GiosErPE Salviati, a Venetian painter, was born A D.
1535, and exchanged the name of Porta, which belonged to
his family, forthat of his master Francesco Salviati , with whom
he was placed very young at Rome, by his uncle. F^e spent
the greatest part of his life in Venice : where he applied him-
self generally to fresco; and was oftentimes employed in con-
currence with Paulo Veronese, and Tintoret. He was well es-
teemed for his great skill, both in design and coloring ; was
likewise well read in other arts and sciences, and was particu-
larly so good a mathematician, that he wrote several treatises,
very judiciously, on that subject. He died A.D. 1585.

Federico Zucchero, born in the duchy of Urbin, A.D.
1543, was a disciple of his brother Taddeo, from whom he dif-
fered but very little in his style, and manner of painting;
though in sculpture and architecture he was far more excel-
lent. Helled into France toavoid thepope'sdispleasure, which
he had incurred, by drawing some of his officers with asses
ears, in a piece he made to representcalumny or slander. From
thence passing through Flanders and Holland, he came over
hito England, drew queen Elisabeth's picture, went back to
Italy, was pardoned by the pope, and in a little time sent for
to Spain, by Philip II. and employed in the Escurial. He la-
bored very hard at his return to Rome,forestablishing th- aca-
demy of painting, by virtue of a brief obtained from pope
Gregory XIII. Of which being chosen the first president him-
self, he built a noble apartment for their meeting, went to Ve-
nice to print some books he had composed of that art, and had
formed other designs for its farther advancement, which were
all defeated by his death, (at Ancona) A.D. 1609.

GiAcoMo VKLU.h. junior, commonly called Giovane Pal-
ma, born at Venice, A.D. 1544, wtx.^'^ow oi Antonio, the

nephew

so A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

nephew o( Pabnaracchi'o. He improved theuistnictions wliicli
his father had given him, by copying the works of the most
eminent masters, both of the Koman and Lombard schools ;
but in liis own compositions chieHy followed the manner of
Titian and Tiniorct. He spent some years in Rome, and was
employed in the galleries and lodgings of the Vatican : bnt
the greater number of his pieces is at Venice, ^\hcre he stu-
died night and day, filled almost every place with something
or otlj'H' of his Itund ; and (like Tiniorct J refused nothing that
tvas offered him, upon the least prospect of gain. He died
A.D. J623, famous for never having let any sorrow come near
his heart, even ujjon tiie severest trials.

Bartiioi,omew SpRANGHER,l)orn at Ant^^•erp, A.D. 1546,
and brought up under variety of masters, was chief painter
to the emperor Mdv'unilliiDi II. and so much respected by his
successor Bodo/p/uis, that he presented him with a gold chain
and medal, allowed him a pension, honored him and his poste-
rity with tlie title of nobility, lodged him in his own palace,
and would suffer him to paint for nobody but himself. He had
spent some part of his youth in Rome, where he was emploj'-
cd by the cardinal Farnese, and afterwards preferred to the
service of pope Pius V. but for want of judgment in the con-
duct of his studies, brouglit little with him, besides a good
pencil, from Italy. His out-line was generally stiff and veiy
imgraceful; his postures forced and extravagant ; and, in a
word, there appeared nothing of the Roman gusto in his de-
signs. He obtained leave from the emperor (after many years
continuance in his court) to visit his own country- ; and ac-
cordingly went to Antwerp, Amsterdam, Haerlem, and several
other places, where he was honorably received : and having
l)ad the satisfaction of seeing his own works highly admired,
and his nianncralmost universally followed in all tiiose parts,as
well as in Germany, he returned to PyaguCydud died in a good
old age. On the same form with.S);rrt'//,^'//t'/' we may place liij>
eotemporaries John J'an y/cA,and Joseph Hcints, hoih. history-
painters of note, and nmch admired in the emperor's court.
Matthew and Paul Rrii,, natives of Antwerp, and good
painters. IMatthcw was born in 1 550, and studied for the most
part at Rome. He waseminent for his performances in history
and landscape, in the galleries t*f the Vatican ; where he was

employed

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 81

ployed hy J^ope Gn-^^ory XUl. He died in 1584, being no
more than thirty-four yc.irs of age. J^aid was boru in 1.^54 ;
followed his brother Muff here to Konic; painted several thinij:!
in conjunction with him ; and, after hisd^xease, broi!<>-*''t him-
self into credit by hislandscapes, bntespcciaily by those vvhicii
he composed in h'u latter time. The uiventiv>n in ihem v as
more {)Ieasant, the disposition more noble, all thr parts more
a<rreeable, and painted with a better gusto, ilian iiis earlier
productions in this way ; which was owing to his liuViUg stu-
ilieii the manner of liunnihal Carrache^ and copied some ot
TiliaiCs works, in the same kind. He was much in favor with
pope Sixtus V. and, for his successor Clement WW, painted
that famous piece, about sixty-eight feet long, wherein iim
saint of that name is repiesentetl cast into the sea, with an an-
chor about his neck. lie died at Rome in 1626, aged 72.

Cherubino Alberti, born A.D. 1552, was adiscipieof
his fatiier ; and equally excellent both in engraving and paint-
ing. His performances iri the latter are mostly in fresco : and
hardlv ai)^y where to be seen out of Uome ; but his prints after
M.Angtlo^ Polydore^ and Ziicchero, being in the hands of the
world, as they have done honor to those masters, they have se-
cured a lasting reputation to himself. He spent a great part of
his life in the happy enjoyment of the fruit of his labours : but
a considerable estate(unluckily)falling to him by the death of
his brother, he laid aside his pencil, grew melancholv, and in
a strange, unaccountable whimsey of making cross-bows,
(such as w ere used in war by the ancients, before gunpowder
was known) fooled away the remainder of his days, and died
A.D. lG15,aged C3.

Antonio Iempesta, born in Florence, A.D. 1555, was a
disciple of John Strada,2iYie.m'nvr. He had a particular genius
for b.utlcs, cavalcades, huntings, and for designing all sorts of
animals ; but did not so much regard the delicacy of coloring,
as the lively expression and spirit of those things which he re-
presented. His prdinary residence was at Rome ; w here in his
younger days he wrought several pieces, hy prder of pope
Gregory XIII. in the apartments of the Vatican. He was full
of thought and invention, very quick and ready in the exe-
cution ; and considerable for a nmltitude of prints etched by
himself. He died A.D. 1630, aged T,**, much commended also
Vol. IV. L part 2 for

82 A COi;CISE HISTORY OF ART,

for his skill in music: and so famous for his veracity, iha.t it
became a proverbial expression, to say, " It is as true as if
** 7 emptsla h.mseif had spi ken it."

Caracci, (Ludovico, Augustine, and Hannibal,) ce-
lebr.ited painters ot the Lombard school, all of Bologna in
Italv. Ludovico Caracci v/dshon-i in 1565 ; and vas cousin-ger-
man to Augustine aw^i Hamnhaly wh:) were brothers. He dis-
covered but an '.ndiHereot geuius for panting under his first
master Prospno Fontana; woo therefore dissuaded him trom
pursuing itanv farther, and treated him so rougiily, that Lu'
doviio left his school. However, he was detei mined to supply
the defects of nature by art; and henceforward had recourse
to no other master than the woiks of the great painters. Me
went to Venice, where the famous Tintorci seeing something
of his doing, encouraged him to proceed in his profession, and
foretold that he should in time be one of the first in it. 1 his
proplietic applause animated his resolutions to ac(|uire a mas-
tery in his art ; and he travelled about to study tiie works of
those who had excelled in it. He studied Titian's^ TimoreCsy
and Paulo P^erones 's works at Venice ; Andrea cte' Sartd's at
Florence : Correggio''s at Parma ; and J.-lio Jionw?w''sdt Man-
tua : but CorregguPs manner touched h mi most sensibly, and
he followed it ever after. He excelled in design and colorinp-,
and a peculiar gracefulness.

Augustine Caracci was born in 1557, and Ilannibarin
1560. Their father, though a taylor by trade, was yet very
careful to give hissons alibcral education. Augustine begun to
Study as a scholar; but his genius leading him to art he was
afterwardsput toagoldsmith. Ilequitted this profession ina lit-
tle time, ndthen deviated to everything that pleased hisfanc}'.
He first put himself under the tuition of his cousin Ludovicoy
and became a very good designer and painter. He gained some
knowledge likewise of all the parts of the mathematics, natural
pliilosophv, rhetoric, music, and most of the liberal arts and
sciences. He was also a tolerable poet, and very accomplished
in many other respects. Though painting was the j)rore^sion
he always stuck to, yet it was often interrupted by his pursuits
in the art of engraving, which he learnt of Cornelius Corty and
in which he surpassed all the masters of his time.

HannibalCaracci in the mean time w asa disciple of Zj/rfo-
wcas Vi'ftWdk^hxihxoxhex Augustine ; but never wandered from

his

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 83

his art, though he rambled througli ail those places which af-
forded anv means of cult'Vatin<j; and perfectinj^ it. Among his
man V admirable qualities, he had so prodigious a memorv,that
whatever he had once seen, he never failed to retain and make
his own. 'Thus at Parma, he acquired the sweetness and pu-
rity of Con'et^sio ; at Venice, the strength and distribution
of colors of Titian ; at Rome, the correctness of design and
be<iutifui forms of the antique; and bv his wonderful perfor-
mance in the Farnesc palace, he soon made it appear, that all
the several perfections of the most eminent masters, his pre-
decessors, were united in himself.

At letigth these three painters, having made all the advantages
they could bv observation and practice, formed a plan of as-
sociation, and continued henceforward almost always toge*
ther. Ludovii'o communicated his discoveries freelv to h>g
cousins, and proposed to them that they should unite t eir
sentiments and their manner, and ^ct as it were in confedera-
cy. The proposal was accepted: they performed several
things in several places ; and findmg their credit increase,
they laid the foundation of that celebrated school, which evejr
since has gone by the name of the Caracci's academy. Hi-
ther all the young students, who had a view of becoming
masters, resorted to beinstrucif ;! isi the rudimentsof painting :
and here the Caram taught frceiv and without reserve to all
that came. Ludovicd's charge was to make a collection of an-
tique statues and bas-reliefs. They had designs of the best
masters, and a collection of curious books on all subjects re-
lating to their art: and they had a skilful anatomist always
ready to teacii v.hat belonged to the knitting and motion of
the i>ones, mutjcles, he. There were often disputations in the
academy; and not only painters but men of learning proposed
questions, which were alwavsdecidedby Ludovico. Everybody
was w^ell received;an<l though stated hours wereallotted to treat
of different matters, yet improvements might be made at all
times bv tlie antiquities and the designs that were to be seen,

Thefameofthe tlV/Y/fc/reachingRomejthe Cardinal Famese
sent for Nannibaf thither, to paint the gallery of his palace.
Hannibal was the more willing to go, because he had a great
desire to see Raffaelle'swoxks^ with the antique statues and bas-
reliefs. The gusto which he took there from the ancient sculp-
ture, made him change his Bolognian manner for one more

L 2 learned.

84- A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

learned, but less natural in the dpsiprn and in the coloring. Au-
guxtine follov.ed Haivvihal, to assist him in h:s undertakin;^ ot"
the Farnese gallery ; buttho b' ;)t, tcrsnot rii^htlv agreeing, the
cardinal sent Augustine to the court of the dnke of Parma, in
whose service he died in 1602, being only 4.5 years of age. His
most celebrated piece of painting is that of the coauiiunion of
St. Jtrotn^ in Bologna : " A piece," say? a connoisseur, *' so
*' complete in all its parts, that it was much to be lamented the
*' excellent author should withdraw himself from tlie practice
" of an art, in which his abilities were so very extraordinary,
** to follow the inferior profession of an engraver." Augustine
had a ntural son, called Antonio^ who was broughtup a painter
under his uncle Hannibal ; and who applied him.'^elf with so
much success to the studv of ail the capital pieces in Rome,
that it is thought he would have surpassed even Hannibalh\va-
self, if he had lived ;but he died at the age of 35, in 1618.

Meanwhile Hanyiibal Qon\\nnc<\ working in the Farnese gal-
lery at Rome ; and after inconceivable pains and care, finished
the paintings in the perfection thev are now to be seen. He
hoped that the cardinal would iiave rewarded him in some pro-
portion to the excellence of this work, and to tlie time it took
him up, which was eight years ; but he was disappointed. The
cardinal, influenced byan ignor;»iit Spaniard his domestic, gave
himbuta little above 200l. though it is certain, he deserved
more than twice as many thousands. When the money was
brought him, he was so surprised at the injustice done him,
tiiat he could not speak a word to the person who brought it.
This confirmed him in a melancholy which his temper natural-
ly inclined to, ancl ma<le him resolve never more to touch his
pencil ; and this resolition he had gndpuijtedly kept, if his
necessities had not comppiled him to break it. It is said, that
his pnelancholy gained so much upon him, that at certain
times it deprivc() hiui of the right use of his senses. It did not,
however, stop his amours ; which at Naples, whither he re^
tired for ^he recovery of his health, brought a di.steniper
upon him, of wltiph he died at 49 years of age. As in his
life he had imitated JiafJ'adU' in his works, so he seems to
havQ copied that great master in the cau.^e and manner of his
death. His veneration for JijJI'aellc was indeed so great, tliat
it was his death-bed request, to be buried in the same tomb
with him ; whiclv was accordingly done in the Pantheon
or Rotunda at Rome. There are extant several prints

LIST OE THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 85

of the blessed Viroin, and of otlier subjects, etched by the
hand of this inconipaiable artist. He is said to have been a
friendly, plain, honest, and open-hearted man ; very com-
municative to his scholars, and so extremely kind to them,
that he geiiorallv kej)t his money in the same box with his co-
lors, wherti they might liav<i recourse to either, as they had
occasion.

While llannibal Caracci worked at Rome, Ludovico was
courted from all parts of Lombardy, especially by tlie clero^y,
to make pictures in their churches; and v.e may judge of his
capacity and facility, by tlie greatnumber of pictures he made,
and bv tlie pi e:erence that was given him over other painters.
In the midst of these employments, Hannibal solicited him to
come aiid assist him in the Farnese gallery; and so earnestly
that he could not avoid complying with his request. He wenk
t.u Rome; corrected several things in that gallery; painted
a fijTure or two himself, and then returned to Bologna, where
he died, 1619, aged 63.

Had the Cavacci had no reputation of their own, yet the me-
rit of their disciples, in the acacemv whicli they founded,
M'ould have reniiered their name illustrious in succeedingtimes;
among them '.vere Giiido, Domenichino, Lavfravco, &c. &c.

Camillo, GiuLio Cf.sare, and Carl' Antonio, the sons
and disciples of I.rcole Procaccini, tlourished at this time.
They were natives of Bologna, but upon some misunderstand-
ing between them and t:.e Caracci, removed to Milan, where
they spent the greatest part of their lives, and set up an
academy of design, famous for producing many excellent
j)ainters. Of t.icse brothers

Camillo, the eldest, abounded in invention and spirit; but
was a great mannerist, and rather studied the beauty thar»
correctness of his designs. He 1 ved very splendidly; kept his
carriage, and a numerous retinue; and died A. D. 1 628, aged 80.

Giul: Cesare was both a sculptor and painter, and famous
in Home, Modena, Venice, Genoa, Bologna, and Milan, for
several admirable things of his hand. He was the best of all
♦■iie Procaccini\ and surpassed bis brother Camillo in the truth
and purity of his out lines, and in the strength and boldness
of his figures. He hved 78 years.

Carl' Antonio was an excellent musician, and as well
skilled in the harmony of colors, as of sounds ; yet not being

abJfc

86 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

able to com" up to t ie perfections of his brothers in historical
eompositions, he appl ed himself whollv to land capes and
flouers; and was much esteemed for his performances in
tii.it way.

Krcolk, the son of CarP Antonio, was a disciple of his
^^nc\GJulio Ccsare, and so happy in imitat ng his manner,
that he was sent for to the court of the duke of Savov, and
hig'dv honored and nobly rewa'ded bv that princ ■, for his
services. Me was besides an admirable lutenist ; and d ed 80
years old, A.I). ]616.

HE^"RY GoLTZius a famous painter and engraver, M-as
born in looS, at Mulbrec in the ducbv of Juiiers ; and learn-
ed his art at Haerlein, where he marrit'd. Falling into a bad
state of health, which was attended with a shortness of breath
and spitting of blood, he resolved to travel into Italy. His
friends remonstrated against a man in his condition stirring :
but he answered, that " he had rather die learning some-
** thing than live in such a languisiiing state." Accordingly
he passed through most of the chief cities of Germany, where
he visited the painter*;, and the curious ; and went to Rome
and Na;)ies, where he studied the works of the best masters^
and designed an infinite number of pieces after them. To
prevent his being known, he passed for his man's servant;
oretending that he was maintained and kept by him for bis
skill in painting : and by this stratagem he came to hear what
was said of his works, without being known, which was a
liigh pleasure to him. His disguise, his diversion, the exer-
cise of travelling, and the diHerent air of the countries
through which he travelled, had such an effect upon his con-
st! ution, that he recovered his former health and vigor. He
rc!a ).-.ed, however, some time after, and died at Haerlem
m 1617.

GiosEPPE d'Arpi^no, commonly called Cavalier Giosep-
fiNo, born in the kingdom of Naples, A.D. 1560, was car-
ried very young to Rome, and put to some painters then at
work in the Vatican, to grind their colors; but the quickness
of his apprehension having soon made him master of the ele-
ments of design, lie had the fortune to (m-ow very famous by
degrees; and besides the respect shewn him by pope (jtegoy
Xlll. and his successors, was so well received by the French
king Lewis Xlll. that he made hirw a knight of the order of St.

Michael.

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTIST3. 87

Michael. He has the character of a florid invention, a ready
hand, and a good spirit in ad hisworks; but vet havingno sure
toundation, either in the study of nature, or the rules of art,
lie has run into a multitude ol errors, anci been guilt v oi many
extravac::ancie«. He died at Rome, A.D. 1640, aged SO.

Cavalier Francesco Vanni, born at Sienna, in the duke-
dom of Tuscany, A 1). 1563, > as a discij3le of rliramch Su-
//;/?/'t7«" (his godfather) and afterwards of Juderho Ziuchero;
but quitted their m nner to follow that of Barocci ; whom he
imitated in his ciioice of religious subjects, as well as m his
gusto of pcdnting. "Ihe most considerable works of this
master are in several churches of Sienna, and are much com-
mended both for the beautv ot their coloring, and correctness
of their design. He died A.D. 1610. aged 47, having been
knigliteJ by* pope Ci'^mcnt VIII. for his famous piece,, of the
Fall o^ Simon Mugus, in the Vatican.

Hans Rottenhamer was br.rn at Munich, the metropolis
of Bavaria, A I). 1564, and after he h id studied s. me time m
Germany, under Dono-jow ( n ordinary pamter) went to V^e-
nice, and Decame a disciple ot Tintont. He j)ainte4.hoth in
fresco and od, l)ut h^s talents la\ chieny in the latter, and his
peculiar excedence was in i t^ie pieces. His invention was free
and easy, his design ind.ierotiy correct, h)s attitudes genteel,
and his coloring very agreeable. He \Vas wed c-tt emed both
in Italy and his own coniitrv, and by his profession mignt iiave
acquired great wealth; out he was so wonderfuil v e.xtrava-
ga;;t in his -vav of living, t!iat lie consumed it miicii faster
than it came in, and at last died so poor, tiiat his IriL'iiJs were
forced to make a purse to burv hni, \.D. 1604, aged 40.

Nicholas iiiLL[ARD,ace'ebr^tcdEnalish lnTinerj.\\ hodrev.'
j^/^/3^ queen of cots m wuter colours, when she was but 18
yearsof age ; wrierein he succeeded to .idmiration, and gained
general applause : he was bo ;i goldsmith, carver, and limner,
to queen Elizabeth^ whose p ctuie he drew several t mesj
particularlv once, when he made a wlioie length of !ier, sittino-
on her throne. The famou.s Donne has ceebrated this pain-
ter in a poem, calicd " The Storm;' where fie says,

" An liand, an eve,
" By Hilliard drawn, is worth an history." .

IsAA'c Oliver, an Fhigli.-h paiUier, v.ho hourished abont the
end of queen Elizabeth\ reign. He was eminent for history

and

^8 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

and face painting, many pieces of which were in the pos-
session of the latti duke of Nvrjolk. As he was a very good
designer, his drawings were rinislied to an extraordinary per-
fection; some of them being admirable cojiics after Pcn-mc-
gianOy &c. He received some hght in his art from Ftdenco
ZucckerOy who came into England in that reign. He was very
neat and curious in his limnings, as might be seen from several
of his history pieces in tlie queen's closet. He was likewise
a very good painter in miniature. He died between fifty
and sixty years old, in Chavks I's reign, and was buried in
Biackfriars, where there was a monument erected to his
memor}-, with his busto, but since destroyed by the fire
in 1666.

He left a son, Petet\ whom he had instructed in his art, and
wlio became exceedingly eminent in miniature ; insomuch
that in portraits, he surpassed his father. He drew \i\v)^ James
I. the princes Ilcnrjj and Charles^ and most of the court at
that time. He lived to near sixty, and was buried in the same
place with his fatlicr, about 1665.

Michael Ancelo Merigi, born 1 569, at Caravaggio, from
whence he derived his name, was at first (like his countrvman
PoljjdorcJ no better than a day-labourer, till having seen some
painters at work upon a brick ^vall which he had prepared lor
tiiem, he was so charmed with their art, that he immediately
addressed himself to the study of it ; and in a few years made
so considerable a j>rogress, that in Venice, Rome, and several
other parts of Italy, he was cried up, and admired by all the
voung men, as the author of a new style of painting. Upon his
first con)ing to Rome, his necessities compelled him to ]>ainc
flowers and fruit under cavalier (iioseppino; but being sooti
weary of that subject, and returning to his former practice of
histories, with Hguresdrawnto the middle only; he madeuseof
a mcthod,quitedilferent from the conduct ofG/?>.sv7J/j/;?o,andrun-
ning into the contrary extreme, followed the life as much too
close, asthe other deviated from it. He affected a way peculiar to
himsclfjof deeji and dark shadows, togivchispieces the greater
relievo, and despising all other help but what he receired from
nature alone, (whom he took with all her faults, and copied
witliont indgment or discretion) his in\cntion became so poor,
that he could never draw anything without his model before his

eves,

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. -89

eyes, and therefore understood but little, either of design or
decorum, in his compositions. He liad, indeed, an admirable
coloring, and great strength in all his works; but those pictures
which he made in imitation of the manner of Givgume, were
his best, because they were more mellow,and have nothino-of
that blackness in them, in which he afterwards deiighted. He
was as singular in his tcinpcr, as in his gusto of pa ntino ; fuJl
of detraction, and so strangely contentious, that his pencil was
no sooner out of his hand, but liis sword was in it. Rome he
iiad made too hot for hiin, by killing one of his friends iu a
dispute at tennis. And it was believed, his voyage to Malta
was taken with no other view, but to get himself knifvlitod by
the grand master, that he might be qualified to fight cavalier
Gioseppinc, who hud refused his challenge, because he was a
knight, and would not{he saidjdrawaswordagainsthisinfer.'or.
But ill his return home wicii the pope's pardon in his pocket, a
fever put an end to the quarrel and his life, in 1609, af^ed 40.
F.LLippo D'Anceli was a Roman, born about this time ;
but called NAPOLiTANO,because his father carried him to Na-
ples when he was very young. At his return to Rome, he ap-
plied liimscif to the antiquities; but unhappily left that study
too soon, atid followed the manner of his cotemporary M.Aiu
gelo da Caravaggio. He practised for tae most part in battles
and landscapes, with ligures finely touched ; was everywhere
well esteemed for his works, and emplj^-edb}' several princes
in many of the churches wnd palaces at Rome, Naples, and
Venice ; at the last of which places he died, aged 40.

Breugel. There were three painters named Rreugel
viz. Peter the father, and his two sons, Peter and John : Breu-
gel the father, commoidy called old Bieugel, was born at a vil-
lage of the same name, near Breda. He was first the pupil
of Peter Cock, whose daughter he married, and afterwards
studied under Jerom Cock, of Bolduc. It was his common cus-
tom to dresslikea countryman, that he mighthave better access
to the country people, and join with them in their frolics at their
feasts and marriages. By these means, he acquired a perfect
knowledge of their manners and gestures, of winch he made
excellent use inhispictures. He travelled to France and Italy,
where he employed himself upon every thing that came in his
way. In all his works he took nature for his guide. He studied
Vol. IV. M part 2 landscapes

90 A CONCISE HISTORY OP ART.

landscapes a long time on the mountains of Tvrol, TTis chear-
fui anJ ha u irons turn of inin'l lisplavc i it elf ii al' tis pic-
tures, -vhic'i generally coiisistecl of m rches of arinos, sports
and diversions, country dances and ui.irri ges. At h s return
from Italy, Resettled at Xntwerp. In 155 1 , he married at "'rus-
selsthe daughter of Pefer Cn-fi-. I • 'lis last illness he c n~-ed
his wife tog.ther all his immodest pictures and drawings, and
burn tliem before his face. He lied at Antwerp.

Breugel ; John) the son of Pkter, was born at Rreugel
about 1569. Two Flcinish .ait!iorsgive ilifferent accounts ot'his
education : one assures us that he \'as educMt-d bv tlie widow
of Peter Cock^ commonly called PeUr Fan Aaht. bis u icle
\>\ his mother, wit^h whom he le I'ued to paint in n)iniature,
and that after\vard> he stude.l j)ainting i i oil witii one /V/rr
Goekint^ whose fine cabinet served at once instend of a scho-^l
and .. master. The other author, vvho often contradicts thr for-
mer, asserts, that Jo/in Bieaitl le.irned the tirst principles of
his art under the tu'tion of his father ; but the diil'cre. ce ob-
servablf^ in their nanners renders tiis ver • improhable How-
ever it be, John Bre^igd A\i\\ ed himself to pa;nti!tg flowers
and fruits wit i great care and won lerful sa^acitN' ; he after-
wards had great sucress in drawing landscapes, and sea views
enlivened with small tigures. ITe did not, however, neglect
his turn for tlowers and fru ts, of wh'ch he made excellent use
in cmheHisliitiglns other works. He lived long at ("ologiu', and
acquireda reputation which wiil last to the latest posterity. He
made a journev to Italv, wliere his reputation had got before
him; and his fi.ie landrcapes, adoriicd wit!) smal! figures, su-
perior to those of his father, gave very gre.it sat sfaction. He
had the name of Fluweei en, froui his affecting to wear vel-
vet clo.iths. If we mav judge b-- the great number oF pictures
he left, he must have been e.xceediiigh- acti- e and laborious ;
and his pieces, as they are all highly finished, must have taken
tip much of his time. He d d not satisfy himself with embel-
lishing his own works oMly, but wasverv useful in this respect
to his IVien i-. Even Rubens made use of /i/r;ii^eP> hand in the
landscape put of several of h-s small pirtures. such a.s the
Vevfuniwis and Pomona n!>^ dr.iwir.gs are so peif ct, tliat no
one, it is said, has yet been able to co|)y them. He died in
1625: it is remarkable, that tie never had a pupil.

Adam

LIST OF THE PRi:c:ciPAL ARTISTS. 91

Adam Flsheimer, born at Franokfort upon the- "May ne,
A.U 1.374, was at lirst a discipie ut' PluliiJ Vffcnbach^ a Ger-
mail ; but ati urdent desire of improvciuciit carrying biui to
Rome, e SDoti became asupenor artist in laiuiscapes, histories,
anduight pieces, wiiii little liguics. His works are very few j
andfoi theiuciedib epamsaiiciiabour which he bestowed upon
them, valued at such protiigious rates, that they are hardly .iny
A-lierc to be found but in the cabinets of priri^ces. He was a
person b; nature niclinedtonielanc!ioly,and throughcontinued
studyandthougiittinnessjso far settled in that unhappy teiiipcr,
thiit !iegiectuig nis ; wii domestic concerns, debts catne thick
upon him, and nnpi'isonment iollc ed ; which ?>truck such a
damp upon his spiru>,th.it tnoutzh he was soon ieleased,hedid
not long survive '.t, but died in 16 10, or thereabout, <.ged ^6.

(jUido IiENi,an Iiahan |)ainter,was bornati5o/t'^w/,ui lo75,
and learned the rudunents of painting under JJenis Calvert j^
Flemish master, who taught ni that c.ty, and hud a good repu-
tation. But, the acadcmv of the Ca/'c/a7 begintnng to be taiked
of, Giiido left his nuister,and entered h.mself of tnat school. He
chieHyimirated Z,//</ouTo('i/rfifa7,yet always retained somethmg
of CalvoCs manner. He made the same use oi' yJ/bert J^ireVy
as Virgil did of old Ennias, borrowed what he pleased from
him, and made it his own; that is, he accommodated w hat \\ as
good in Albert to his own n)anner. This he executed with so
much gracefuhiess and beauty that he alone got more money
and more reputation in his time than his own masters, and all
the scholars of tite Caracci, though they were of greater capa-
city than himself. He was charmed with Bajf'ae/lt-^s picturtts ;
yet his own heads are not at all inferior to Bajj utile'' s. Mich-ad
Angela, moved probably with envy, is said to have spoken
very contemptuously of his pictm'es ; and his insolent expres-
sions might have had ill consequences, had not Guido prudent-
ly avoided disputing Avitli a man of his impetuous temper.
Guido acquired some skill also in music, by the instruction of
his fatiier, who was aii eminent professor of that art.

Great were the honors this painter received from Paul V.
from all tlie cardinals and princes of Italy, from Louis Xllf. of
France, Philip XIV. of Spain, and from Udislaus king of Po-
land and Sweden, who, besides a noble reward, made him a
compliment, in a letter under his oAvn hand, for an Europa he

M 2 had

92 A COKCISE HISTORY OF ART.

had sent him. He Avas extremely handsome and graceful in his
person ; and so beautiful in his younger days, that his master
JLiidoviiOy in painting his angels, took him for his model. Nor
was he an angel only in his looks, if we believe what Gioscp-
pino tuld the pope, when he asked his opinion of Guido's per-
formances in the Capella Quirinale, " Our pictures-," said he,
*' are the works of men's hands, but t'.iese are made by hands
*' divine." In his behaviour lie was modest, gentle, and very
obliging ; lived in great splendor both at Bologna and Rome ;
aiid was only unhappy in his immoderate love of gaming. To
this in his latter days he abandoned himself so entirely, that
all the money he could get by his pencil, or borrow upon in-
terest, was too little to supply his losses : and he was at last re-
duced to so poor and mean a condition, that the consideration
of his present circumstances, together with reflections on his
former reputation and high manner of living, brought a lan-
guishing distemper on him, of which he died in 164-2. Mischief
pictures are in the cabinets of the great, 'J'he most celehrated
of his pieces is that which he painted in concurrence with I)o'
me)iichino,\n the church of St. Gregorjj. There are s^everal de-
signs of this great master in print, etched by himself.

Marcello Provznzale, of Cento, born A.D. 1575, was a
man of singular probity and virtue, very regular in the con-
duct of his life, an able painter, and in Mosaic works superior
to all mankind. He was a disciple oi' Paulo Rosefti, and his
co-adjutor in those noble perfoniiances, in St, Peter's chwvch
in Rome. He refitted the famous ship made by Gidlo, ;;rid
added to it several curious figures of his own. He restored also
some of the ancient Mosaics (brokeii and almost ruined hv
time)to their primitive beauty. But nothing got him a greater
name than his portrait of pope Paul V, in the Palazzo Borg-
hese ; apiece wrought with such exquisite art and judgment,
that though it was composed of innumerable bits of stone, the
pencil, even of Titiany hardly ever carried any thing to a
hig'ier point of perfection. He died at Rome, A. U. lG:39,aged
6 ^ of discontent, it was feared, to find himself so poorly re-
warded, in his life time, for those glorious works, wiiich he
foresaw ^vould be inestimable after his decease.

Gio. Battista Viola, a Bolognese, born A.D. L576,was
a disciple of Hannibal Caracci, by whose assistance he ar-
rived

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 9S

rived to an excellent manner in landscape-painting, which he
chiefly studied, and Cor wiucii he .vas well esteemed m Rome,
and several other patts ol Italy. But pope Gregory XV. hav-
ing made him keeper olhis palace, and given him a pension
of 500 crowns per annan), to reuard him for the services
which he h:A done for him when he avus Cardinal, he quitted
his pencil, and practising music only, (wherein he disc ex-
celled) difc-dsoon afler, A.D. 1622, aged 46.

Sir Peter Paul Rubens, the prince of the Flemish pain-
ters, was horn in 1517 at Cologne : whither his latiier John
Rubnis, counsellor in the senate of Antwerp, liad been driven
by the civil wars. His excellent genius, and tiiecare that was
taken in his education, made every thing easy to h'ni ; bu,t he
had not resolved upon any profession when his father died ;
and, the troubles in the Netherlands abating, his family re-
turned to Antwerp. He pursued hisstudies there in the belles
lettres, and at his leisure hours diverted himself with de-
sio-ning. His mother, perceiving in him an inclination to this
ar°, permitted him to place himself under Adam Van Moort
first, and Otho Venius after ; both which masters he presently
equalled. He only wanted to improve his talent by travelling,^
and for this purpose went to Venice ; where, in the school of
Titian^ he perfected his knowledge of the principles of color-
ing. Afterwards he went to Mantua, and studied the works of
Jidio Romano ; and thence to Rome, where Avith the same care
he applied himself to the contemp ation of the antique, the
paintings of lUiffaclle, and every thmg that might contribute
to finish him in his art. What was agreeable to his taste, he
made his own, either by copying, or making reflections upon
it ; and he generallyaccompan ied those reflections with designs,
drawn with a light stroke of his pen.

He hadbeenseven years in Italy ,when,receivingadyice that
his mother was ill, he took post,and returned to Antwerp: but
she died before his arrival. Soon after he married; but, losing
his wife atthe end of four years,heleit Antwerpfor some time,
and endeavored to divert his sorrow by ajourney to Holland ;
where he \\^\\.iidHuntorstdit Utrecht,ior whom he had a great
value. He married a second wife,who was a beauty, and helped
him very m.uch in his figures of women. His reputation being
spread over Europe, Mary of Mtdicis, wife of Henry IV. of
France,invited him to Paris ; whither he went,and painted the

Luxemburg

94 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Luxemburg s^allery, Vere the duke oi" Buckingham became
ac()uaiined with him, and was so taken with his solid and pene-
tratingpcirts,as well as hisskillin hi.sprofessiou,th;it he i.s saidto
have recommend d him »o the infanta Isabel/a, w.iosent him
her amliassacior into F'.ngiand,t(Uiego( iatc a peace with 6Virt//«
I- in 163(). He coiichided the treaty, and pa'nieu the banquet-
ting-house; for winch the king paid him a large sum of money,
and knighted him. He was an intimate friend to f!ie duke of
£u kingham ; and be sold the duke as many pxtuies, statues,
inedals,iindantiques,ascameto iO,Oi^Ol i e returned to Spain,
where lie was m.ignihcentiv rewarded by Philip iV. for the
scrv ces he had done him. Going scon after to K,anaers,he had
the post of secretary of state conferred on him ; t)ut did not
leave oiThis profession He diec! in 1640, leaving- vast nclies
behind !" m to his children ; of whom Albert., the eldest, suc-
ceede.l h lu in the office of secretary of state in Fi.tuders.

But besides his talent 'n paint:ng,and h s adniiraiile skill in
architecture, which disp.a\s itself in theseveral C4iuiche> and
palaces built after his de>igns .it (jenoa,he was a person pos-
sessed of all the ornaments and iidvaiitages t!)at c^n render a
man valuable:was universally learned,spokeseveral languages
perfectly, was well read in history, and withal an excellent
statesman. His usu.d abode was at Antwerp; where he budt a
spacious apartment in injitation cf tl)e Rotunda at Rome, for a
noble collection of pictures which he had purchased in Italy;
and some of which, as m e have observed, lie sold to the tlid<e
of Buckingham. He lived in the highest esteem, reputation,
audgrauucur imaginable ; was as great a patron, as master, of
his art; and so much adnured ai over Europe for his singular
endowments, thi.t no stranger of iaiytpialitv coiddpassthrough
tlie Low Countries, without seeing a uian oi \\hv;m they had
heard so much.

His school was full of admirable disciples, among whom Van
Dyke best comprehended the rules and maxims of his master.

Horatio Gi^ ntileschi, an Italian painter, was born atPisa
in 1563. After having made himself famous at Florence, Rome,'
Genoa, and other parts of Italv, he removed to Savoy ; from
whence he went to Fiance, and at last, upon the invitation of
Charles l.came over to I'.ngiand. He was well received by that
kingjwho appointed him lodgings in his coiu't, together with a
great salary; and employed him in his palace at Greenwich*

and

LIST OF THE PRIKCIPAL ARTISTS. 95

and other public places. Tlie most remarkable of his perforni-
anres in Kngian 1, were the ceilings of Greenwich and York-
house. He did also a M ulona, a Mai^i-iuhn, and Lot with iii.s
two dauo'iUT-;, for kuiir Charles , all wh ch he performed ad-
mirablv well. After th • death oft lie kin-^, when his collection
of pictures wer<' cKpo-ed to sale, nine pictures o|" Gentdesrhi
were sold for 60 )1. Hi-; ni )st e>tecine I piece abroad, was the
portico of carduud Bentivoi^lio'i palace at Konie. He made
several attempts m face p<iintiii<r, but w tli little success; his
talent I vino- altogether \w histories, with HyurL's as large as life.
He was much in favor wit'i t!«;' du'ieof 'iucking'Mm,dMd many
others of the nobilitv. After 12 -ears' contmuanc ■ m Kngland,
he died here at84 ^earsof age, and was ur;ed m the queen's
c-h.ipel at *>omers' t-'iouse. His print ^samo igthe tseads of I'^an-
dyke^ he having been drawn b^- that great m ister.

He left behind him a daughf-er, Jrttmisia (rtniiltstlu^who
^•as but little inferior to her father in histor -paiiiting,and ex-
celled him in portraits. She hved t!ie greatest part of iur t UiC
at Naples in miic!) splenJoi ; and was as f m ^us all over i^u-
rope for her gallantry as ftrr her painting. She drew many hii»-
torv-pieces a«; big as t'le lif.-; among which, tiie mo.-.t celebrat-
ed was that of Jjuvid wit.h the head of Goliath m Jiis hand. She
drew also the portraits of some of the royal family, and many
of the nobility of 1 ngland.

Fpancis Albani, was born in Rologna, March 17, I57S.
His father v.-as a silk njercnant, and intended to bring Uji his
son to that t)usiness; h\x\.Aibani having a strong ini.lincit.on to
painting,when hisfather d:ed,de voted hi mselftothatartjthough
then but twelve ve.irs of age. He hrst stu.i.ed under Dmis
Calvert; Gidao /,'eni be-n- ai the same tioieuniler thi.s master,
M'ith whonj /^M^/??/ contracted a great fre idship. Culver/ diew
but one profi'.e for Albania and afterward- left him entirely to
the care oxGuulo ; U'ider whom he made great improvement,
ins fellow di.scipie instructing him with tiie utmos- kindness
and good humor. He followei (j\iklo to the school of the Ca-
racri, but afterwards their fricnd.'.hip began to cool : owing
perhap ; t) the pride of Albaid, who coulJ not boar to see Gui^
do surpass hmi, or to the jtalousy o^ Guido at finding Albani
makesoswifta progress. Thev certain. yendeavored toeciipse
ene aiiother ;fov v.heu Guiao had se-. up a beautiful altar-piece,

Albani

96 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

j^/bam would oppose to it some fine picture of his : tlius did
they behave for some time, and yet spake of each other Avith
thehighestestcem. y^/^r//»',after havinggrcatly improved him-
self iinderthe Ca)-acci,\\'cutto Rome, where hecontinucd many
years ii'K-' muirir^d, but his wife dying in childbed, at tlie ear-
nest request of his rehitions, he returned to Bologna, where
he married again. His secondw'ifc fI)orahceJ\va.s well descend-
ed, but had Ittle fortune ; which he [perfectly disregarded, so
strongly was ne captivated with her beauty and good sense.
Albanij besides the satisfaction of possessing an accomplished
■wife reaped likewise the advantage of a most beautiful model.
His wife answered tijis purpose aduiirabiy well ; for besides
her youth and beauty, he di.-covered in her so much modesty
and graces, that it was impossd)le for him to meet with a more
finished woman. She afterwards broug!jt him several boys, so
that she and her chikiren were the originals of his most agree-
able and graceful compositions. Doralicc took a pleasure in
setting the children in different attitudes, holding them naked,
and sometimes suspended by strings, when Albani would draw
them. F'tom them too, the fam;jus sculptors I'iamingo and
Algardi modelled tiieir cupids.

AlbauiwdJ^ well versed in some branches of polite literature,
but did not understand Latin, nmch to his regret; he endea-
vored to supply this defect by carefully perusing translations.
He excelled in ail parts of painting, but was particularly ad-
mired for his small pieces, tho' he himself was nmch dissatisfied
that his large pieces, many of which he painted for altars, were
not equally applauded. Hedelightedmuch indrawingthe fair
sex, Avhom he has represented with wonderiu! beauty ; but has
been reckoned not so happy iu his imitation of men.

Albani was of a happy temper and disposition, his paintings
and designs breathing nothing but cohtentand joy : happy in
a force of mmd that con juercd every uneasiness, liis poetical
pencil carried him through the most agreeable gardens to
Paphos and Cytherea.

He died the 4th of October, 1 660, to the great grief of all
his friends and the whole city of Bologna.

He was very famous in his life-time, and had been visited by
the greatest painters: several princes honored him with letters,
and amoiigst the rest king Chculesl. who invited him to Eng-
land by a letter signed with his own hand.

Francis

nST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 97

Francis Sicydf.rs, born at Antwcrj), A. I). 1579, n-;ts bi>'d
lip urulei- Hcnnj f'an Balcniy !iis coiintrvin m; l)ut ov-.';l n\o^t
of his iiiiprovement to his studies iii It.ilv. He p.iinte t all
sorts of wild IxMsts and other aniinuls, (iiritiniJs, Hs'i, i'riiit,
vkc. in gre.it |)>.'rfection : was utU'O emploveJ Dv t'le king- of.
Spain, and si-vcral other prince^, and cverv where nuich
coninK-nded for liis works.

DoMENiciiiNo, was descend'-'d of an honorable family, and
born in Holoi^na, l.JSl. \\v was at fn-sl a disciple of Calvvrt,
the KJeniino-: bnt soon quitred his scfiooi lor a much bet'erof
the C.avaci;\^ bein'j;- in trucu;d at H(«io>:n i liv Liuiovicu^ .ind
at Hcmvi b\- Hannibal, who had >-o tr>'fat a v. due for h.tn, that
he took him to hiS assistance in the Fanwse gaileiw He was
so extremeiv laborious and slow in his productions, that his
fellow disciples looked upon him as a person tliat lost his t me.
Thev were wont to call him *' the ox;" and s id " he labored
*' as if he was at plow." Hut IJanmhal Caracci^ who kew him
better, told them that " this ox, bv dint of lab r, « ould n time
*' make his ground so fruitful, tliat painting it.^eif won d be
" led bv uliat it produce.] :" a prophecv, which /-omenichino
lived to fulhl ; for though he was not, profjerlv speaking, a
genius, vet, bv the goodness of his sense, and trie solulitv of
his reHectiotis, he attained to such a materv in his art,
that there are manv excellent things in his pictures. He ap-
plied himself to Uis work with much studv and thought, and
never oliered to touch his pencil, till he found a k nd of en-
thusiasm or insp ratKui upon iiim. His talent la- principdlv
in the correctness ol his style, and in expressing the p..ssions
and a'Tectioiis of the mind. In these he «as so aduurubiv ju.ii-
cious,that Aichulas Poiissi/i, the French pa ute. , u^ed to sav,
his " communion of t Jcrouiy'' audliajfjtl/t^s celebrated piece
of" the I ransfigiiral ion," were t!ie two best pictures in Home.
He was made thee lief arc.'ntect of tiie apo. toiiCa,. palace by
pope Gregory XV. for his g. eat skill in that art He was ike-
wissi Weil versed m the theorv of music, but not successfid in
the ractice. He loved solitude ; and as he went along tie
streets, he took notice of the v.ctions of piivate persons iie
met, and otten designed sometliing in ids p( cket-boc.k. He
was of a mild" temper and obliging carr.age, y.'t bad the mis.
fortune to tind enemies in all places wlierevcr he came. \t
Naples particulacly, he was so ill treated by those of his own
Vol. IV. ' A' part 2 pro-

98 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

profession, that having agreed uniong thetnscKvs to dispuraj^e
all his works, they would hardly allow him to be a tolerable
master : and they were not content with having frightened him
for some time from that city, but afterwards, upon his return
thither, never left persecuting him, till, by their tricks and
contrivances they hud quite wearied him out of his life. He
died in 1641, not without the suspicion of poison.

GiosEPPE RiBERA, a native of Valencia, in Spain, com-
irtonly known by the name of SPAGNOLETTO,was an artist per-
fect in design, and famous for the excellent manner of color-
ing, which he had learned from Michael Au^clo da Cavravag-
gio. He composed very often half-ligures onlv, and (like his
master) was wonderfully strict in following the life ; but as
ill-natured in the choice of his subjects, as in his behaviour
to poor DoMENiCHiNo ; art'ecting generally something very
terrible and frightful in his pieces, such as Prometheus with
the vulture feeding upon his liver, Ca/o I'^ficensis weltering
in his own blood, St. Bartholomew with the skin flaved off his
body, &c. But, however, in all his work>, nature was imitated
with so much art and judgment, that a certain hulv, big with
child, havin^g cast her eyes upon an Ixion, whom he had le-
presented in torture upon the wheel, received such an im-
pression from it, that she brought forth an infiint,with fingers
distorted, just like those in the picture. His usual abode was
at Naples, where he lived very splendidly , being much in fa-
vor with the viceroy, his countrvnian : and in great reputa-
tion for his works in painting, ami lor several prints etched
with his own hand.

Giovanni Lanfranco, was born at Paruia, on the same
day with Doynenichino , in 1. 58 1. Mis parents being poor, car-
ried him to Placenza, into the service of the count Hoiatio
Scotle. While he was there, he was always drawing with char-
coal upon the walls, paper being too small for him to scrawl
his ideas on. The count, observing his disposition, put him
to Augustine Caracci; after whose death he Avent to Home,
and studied under Haiuti ha/, who set him to work in the church
of St. Jago, and found him capable of being trustes.1 with the
execution of his designs : in \vh\ch Laii/rauco has left it a doubt
whether the work be his or his master's. His genius lay to
painting in fresco, in spacious places; as we may see in his
grand performances, especially the cupola of St. Andrea de

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS, 99

Lav'.il, wherein he has succeeded much belter tlian in pieces
of a lesser size. The g-nsto ot his design he took from Han-
nibal Caracci ; as long us he hved under the discipline of that
illustrious master, he Avas always correct; but, after his
master's death, lie gave a loose to the impetuosity of his ge-
nius, without minding the rules of art. L<wfranco painted
the liistory of St.. Jitter for pope Urban VUl. which was en-
graved by Pietro Santi. He did other things in St. Pt'/cr's
church, and pleased the pope so much that he knighted him.

I.anfranco was hiip])y in hisfaniijy : his wife, who was very
Imndsome, brotifrht him several children; who, being g-rown
up, and delighting in poetry and music, made a sort of Par-
nassus in his house. His eldest daughter sang finely, and
played well on several instruments. He died in 1647, aged 66.

Lanfrancd's works came from a vein, quite opposite to
thoae otDomenic/nno : the latter made himself a painter in
spite of Minava ; the former was born with a happy genius.
DoDicnkhino invented with pain, and afterwards digested his
compositions with judgment: Lan/ranco left all to his genius,
the source whence flowed all his productions. JJomemchino
studied to express the particular passions ; Lan/ranco con-
tented himself Avith a general expression, and followed Han-
vibaPs gusto of designing. J)onicnichmo, whose studies Avere
always guided by reason, increased his capacity to his death :
Lanjranco, v ho was supported by an exterior practice of
UunnibaVs manner, diminished his every day after the death
of his master. Donienichino executed his works with a slow
and heavy hand ; Lanfranco\ hand was ready and light. To
close all, it is hard to find two pupils, born under the same
planet, and bred up in the same school, more opposite one
to another, and of so contrary tempers ; yet this opposition
does not hinder, but that they are both to be admired for
their b. st productions.

SisTo Badalocchi, his fellow-disciple, was ofParmaalso;
and by the instructions of the Caracci, at Rome, became one
ot' tiie best designers of their school. He had also many other
t oinujcndable (jualities, and particularly facility, but wanted
diligence. He jomed with his countryman Zfl?j/7'fl«co, in etch-
ing the histories of the Bible, after the paintmgs oi RaffacilCy
in the Vatican ; which they dedicated to Hannibal, their
master. Hepractisedmostlyat Bologna, wliere he died young.

iV2 Simon

lOO A CONCISE HISTORY OF AKl.

SimonVouet, a Kr'1u:1i painter, vorv ct-lelirated in liis
<\iiy. was horn at P..nsin lo.S2 ; and br-od up under liis father,
^vilo w.is a I aniter also. lie was in sucli rtjjaitt', at tuentv
ye.trs of a'j^e, t'lat Mons. dt Sancij, going ambassador to ( on-
sta;)tnio})ie, took him as his painter. 'I here fie drewt e pic-
ture of the grand sigii or b\ strength of memory oidv, and
from a vie^v of him at the .embassador's audience, yet it wiii>
extreinolv like. From thence he went to Venice ; and after-
wards setthiig in Home, became so eminent that, l)esidesthe
iavors he received from pope Urbun VIII. and the cardinal
his nephew, he was chosen prince of the Roman iicademv of
St. Luke. He staved fourteen years in Italy ; in Itj'i'?, Lcuts
X •! who had allowed him a pension while he was abroad,
?ent for him home to work in his palaces. He practised both
in portraits and histories ; furnished some of the apartments
oi"the Louvre, the p.daces of L>Tixembnrg and St. (.jennuns,
the galleries of cardinal Richelieu^ and other public j)laces,
witn hs worixs. His greatest peifection was his figret'abl*:
coloring, .itt his brisk and lively pencil ; otherwise he was
but verv ind:ffere,,tlv (jualitied. He hail no genius for gtand
compositions, wus unhapp\ in his invention, unactjuainted
with the rules of erspectve, .md uiiilerstood but little ot tiie
union of colors, or the doctrine of hghts and shadow s. Xev er-
theicss, Fra ice is ndebted to hmn, for destroying the insipid
and barbar )us mannei- that then re'gned, anil f(<r ijeginring
to int oiluce a good gont 'I h • novelt\ of / o/zt/'s manner,
and he k;nd reception he gave to all who came Vj liim, m.ide
the Kre di painters, his ci'iitemporuries, lall into it ; and
brought h m disciples from ail parts. Most ot the succeed,
jng painters, wlio were fuuious, were bred up un^ier Imu ; as
Lt h'rioiy Pet)ki\, Mignuid, Lc Sueur, Dorigiiy, J)u Fifsp.oy,
and otiiers, \\hom he emploved as assistants: for it would be
wondertui to retu ct, wh.it a pr -vtigicus number ot pictures
he coiiip.eted, if it was not remembered, thai he had m.nv
disc pies, whom he trained to his manner, and u ho executed
his de^ gns. He iia I the honor also to instruct tlie king him-
self in t,ie art oi des giiin^.

He (.lied, rather worn out with labor than years, in 1641,
aged 5 h*. Jh/ient/y wiio was his son-in law, as well as his
pujjil, engraved the gre-.ter part of his wo ks. He had a
brother, whose n..me was .lubm I'ouct, who painted aftirhis
manner, and was a tolerable pertornier.

David

LIST OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. lOl

David Tenters, aFlemisli piiinter, ivus bc.rn at Antwerp,
in 1582, and received t!ie litst rudiiDeiits of liisart from tlie fa-
mous Rubens^ who considered liini, at ient;tli, as h.s most de-
serving scholar. (>n ieav x\^Iiubcus,\\(.' be;iHn lo be much em-
ployed, and in a Httk t me, went to It.ilv. \t Rome he fixed
liimseif with Jc/ain J-.lshtimrr, who ^asthen in great vogue;
of wiiose manner he became a thoronoh iii.ister, witliout nog-
iecting at the same time t le stuiiv of other great masters, and
endeavoring to penetrate into tiie deepest m\'steries of their
T)ractice. An abode of ten years ;n Italy en.ibied him to be-
come one of the first rn his stvie of p.iintirig ; and a i)i.ppy
un on of the schools of Nuhns and Klahclmci formed m him
a maimer as agreeable as d vertmg. \V hen Toners returned
to his own ccmntrv, he entirely emploved ])mself in painting
siPall pictures, filled with figures of j)ersons drinking, chemists,
iairs, and n.erry makings, \\ tii a niunher of cotmtr\inen and
Avomen. lie spread so much ta.ste anti truth throtigh his pic-
tures, that nature hardly produced a ju-^ter eifect. j he de-
mand for them was univer.-.a: ; and even his master Rubens
thought them an ornament to his cabinet, which was as high a
compliment as could be paid t tern. TeuLrs drew his own
character in his pcturcs, and in all his subjects every tiling
tends to joy and plea ure. He was aiwMys cmpio\ed in copy-
ing after nature,. \ a. tsocver presented it.iell ; and he accustom-
ed his two so 15 to follow his example, and to paint nothing
but from that mfaliibiemodei, by wh !ch me., ns they both became
excel ient planters. 'Thest> ii re the only di.-ci pies we knowof y>?ff-
via 'i>/«'c)5 the elder, who died at Antwerp in 1649, aged 67.
D'jv'nl Teniers, his son, was l>orn at /sutwerp in 1610, and
\> as nick-named " The Ape of F*ainting ;" for there was no
uijtner of pa nting but what he im tatecl so exactly, as to de-
<;eive even the nicest judges. He im]>roved greatly on the
talents^and merit of his fatlier, and h.s reputation introduced
liim to tUe fa\or t t e great. ! he arciKiukeZeo/?o/(/ JViUiam
made hiifi geutieman ut his bed-chamber ; and all the pictures
of his gallery u ere cooieil bv I (.int. s, and engraved by his di-
rection. 'J rniers t;;< k a voyagv* lo hngiand, to buy several
]/Ktures of the great Ilaiian masters tor Count Fuensaldegnay
w lo, ou his return, tieaped favors on him, Don John of
Austria, and the king of Spain, set so great a value on hispic-
fure-., tfiat they built --• gallery on purpose lor them. Prince
l\'il:.>.i>n of Orange hoiiOied him with his jnendship; Rubens

esteemed

102 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

•steemcd his works,and assisted him with his advice. His prin-
cipal talent was landscape, adorned with small figures. He
painted men drinking and smoaking, chemists, elaboratories,
country fairs, and the like : his small figures are superior to
his large ones. 'I^he distinction between the works of the fa-
ther and the son is, that in the son's we discover a iiner touch
and a fresher pencil, a greater choice of attitudes, and a better
disposition of figures. The f<ither retained something of the
tone of Italy in his coloring, which was stronger than the son's,
but bis pictures have les.> harmony and union : besifles, the
son used to put at the bottom of his pictures, *' David Tenitrs,
junior." He died at Antwerp in 1694, aged 81.

His brother Abraham was a good painter ; equal, if not su-
perior, to his father and brother in expression of character,
and knowledge of the chiaro-obscuro, though inferior in the
■sprightliness of his touch, and the lightness of his pencil.

Peter vak Laer, commonly called Bamboccio, (on ac-
count of his disagreeable figure, with long legs, a short body,
and his head sunk down on his shoulders) was born in the city
oi Haerkmy A. D. l^Si : and after he had laid a good founda-
tion in drawing and perspective at home, went to France, and
from thence to Rome ; where by earnest application to study,
for sixteen years together, he arrived to great perfection in
histories, landscapes, grottos, huntings, &c. with little figures,
and animals. He had an admirable gusto in coloring, was
very judicious in the ordering of his pieces, nicely just in his
proportions ; and only to be blamed for aftecting to represent
nature in her worst dress, and following the life too close, in
most of his compositions. He returned to Amsterdam, A. D.
1639 : and after a short stay there, sjxint the remainder of ins
days with his brother, a noted schoolmaster, in Haerlem. He
was a person very serious and contemplative in his humor ;
took pleasure in nothing but Painting and Music : and by in-
dulging himself too much in a melancholy retirement, is said
to have shortened his life, A.D. 1644, aged 60.

DoMENico Fe TTI, an eminent painter, was born at Rome
in l.">89, and educated under Ludovico Civoli, a famous Flo-
rentine painter. As soon as he quitted the school of Civoli\
he went to Mantua, where the paintings oi' Julio Jio)iiam) ni-
forded him the means of becoming a great painter. Froni
them he took his coloring, the boldness of his characters, and

a bean-

LIST OF THE PRIKCIPAL ARTISTS. IDS

a beautiful manner of thinking: and it were to be wished,
that he had copied the correctness of that master. Cardinal
Ferdinand Goizaga^ afterwards duke of Mantua, discovered
the merit of /t'///, retained him at his court, furnislied him
with means of continuing his studies, and at last emploj'cd
liim in adorning his palace. FlIU painted with great force,
but sometimes too darkly; was delicate in his thoughts ; had
a grandeur of expression, and a mellowness of pencil, that re*
Jished with the connoisseurs. His pictures are scarce, and
much sought afier. He painted ver\' little for churches. Going
to Venice, he abaiuloned himself to disorderly courses, which,
breaking his constitution, put an end to his life in its verv
prime; for he was only m his 35th year. The duke of Mantua
regretted him exceedingly, and sent for his father and sister,
whom he took care of afterwards. The sister painted well.
She became a nun, and exercised her talent in the convent,
which she adorned with several of her works. Other religi-
ous houses in Mantua \\ ere also decorated with her paintings,

Cornelius Poelenburgh, born at Utrecht, A.D. 1590,
was a disciple of Abraham Blocmaert, and afterwards, for a
long time, a student in Rome and Florence. His talent lay
altogether in small figures, naked boys, landscapes, ruins, &c.
which he expressed with a pencil very agreeable, as to the
coloring part: but generally attended with a little stiffness,
the (almost inseparable) companion of much labor and neat-
ness. However, BubenswaLS so well pleased with his pictures,
that he desired Sandrart to buy some of them for him. He
came over into England, A.D. 1637 ; and after he had con-
tinued here four years, and been handsomely rewarded byKing
Charles I. for several pieces, which he wrought for him, re-
turned into his own country, and died A.D. 1667, aged 77.

CavalierGio. Francesco BARBiERiDACENTOjCommonly
called Cr^tTfAi'/zo, (because of a cast in one of his eyes)was born
near Bologna, A.D. 1690, and bred up under Benedetto Gen-
nari his country-man: by whose instructions, and his own
excellent genius, he soon learned to design gracefully, and with
correctness ; and by conversing afterwards with the works of
Michael Angela da (Mravaggio^a-nd the Caracci, hecdine an ad-
mirable colorist, and besides, very famous for his happy inven-
tion, and freedom of pencil; and for the strength, relievo, and
■>econ)ing boldness of his figures. He began in the declensiou

trf

104 A, CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

his age, to alter his style of paiiitmjx ; aiul to jjlease the un-
thinking multitude, rather than himself, took ujianot'ier man-
ner, more «rav, neat, and pleasant ; hnt by no means so tirand
and so natural as his lormor gu^to. He was sent for to Rome,
by pope (rvi'iiori) XV and alter two years spent there, with
universal applause, retinned home ; and could not be drawn
from tlience, by the most powerful invitat ons either of the
king of England or the French kmg. Nor coidd Christiana^
queen of 8v\edc'i, prevail with him to leave Piologna ; though
in lier passage through it, siie made him a visit and would not
be satisfied, till she had taken him by the hand, " I hat
*' hand (said she) that had j^ainted 106 altnr-pieees, !4i pic-
** tares for people of the first (jualitv in 1- urope : and besides,
'* had comj)osed ten books of designs." He received the
honor of knighthood frou) the tiuke of Mwtua; and for his
cxcmphiry pi«ty, prudence, s.\\(.\ morality, was every whiMV
as much esteemed as for his knowledge in ])ainting. He died
a. batchelor, A.D. 16()6, aged 76, verv rich, notwithstanding
the great snn)s of m(>nev he hati expended, in building
chapels, founding hospitals, and other acts of charits'.

Nicholas Poussin, an eminent Fiench painter, w.;S born
at Andelis, a citv in Normand\-, 1594. His family was origi-
nally of Soissons; in which citvtliere were some of his relations
officers in the Presidial court John Poussin, his father, was
of noble extraction, but a very small estate. His son, seeing
the narrowness of his circumstances, determined to establ.sli
himself as soon as possible, atid chose painting for his pro-
fession, having natiirallv a strong inclination to that art. At
eighteen, he wttnX. to Paris, to learn the rudiments of it; but he
i>aw he should never learn an}' thing from the Parisian mtisters,
and he resolved not to lose his time with them; believing he
should profit moiii by studying the works of great masters,
than by the discipline of ordinar\' painters. He worked a
while in distemper, and with extraordinary facilitv. The
cavalier Muri}io being at that time in Paris, and knowing
1*011 ss in s <rtiu\{]v, was al)ove the small performances he was em-
]iloyed in, persuaded him to go in his company lo Italv ; J^oi/s-
sin had before made two attempts to undertake that journey,
yet by some means or other he was hindred from accepting
the advantage of this opportunity. He promised to follow
in a short time; and set out tor Home in hij thirtieth 3"ear.

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 105

He there met with his friend the Cavalier Marino, who to be
as serviceable as he coulH, recommended him to Cardinal Bar"
bcrmi, who desired to be acquainted with him. Nevertheless he
did not emerge, and could scarcely maintain himself. He was
forced to give away his works for so little, as would hardly pay
for colors: however, his courage did not fail him ; he minded
his studies assiduously, resolving to make himself master of his
profession; he had little money to spend, and therefore the
more leisure to retire by himself, and study the beautiful things
in Romcj as well the antiquities, as the works of the famous
Roman painters. It is said, he at first copied some of Titian's
pieces; with whose coloring, and the touches of whose land-
scapes he was infinitely pleased. Indeed it is observable, that
his first pieces are painted with a better gusto of colors than
his last. But he soon shewed by hisperformances,that generally
speaking, he did not much value coloring ; or thought he knew
enough of it,to make his pictures as perfect as he intended. He
had studied the beauties of the antique, the elegance, the
grand gusto, the correctness, the variety of proportions, the
adjustments, the orderof thedraperies, the nobleness, the fine
air and boldness of the heads; the manners, customs of times,
and places, and every thing that was beautiful in the remains
of ancient sculpture, and with great exactness he has enrich-
ed his paintings in all those particulars.

He used frequently to examine the ancient sculptures in the
vineyards about Rome, and this confirmed him more in the love
of those antiquities. He would spend days in making reflec-
tions upon them by himself. In these retirements he considered
the extraordinary effects of nature in landscape, he designed
his animals, his distances, his trees, and everything excellent
that was agreeable to his gusto. Poussin also made curious ob-
servations on the works of Raffaelle if Domenichinoi who of all
painters,inhis opinion,invented best, designed most correctly,
andexpressedthe passions most vigorously : three thingswhich
Poussin esteemed the most essential parts of painting. He
neglected nothing that could render his knowledge in these
three parts perfect : he was altogether as curious about the
general expression of his subjects, which he adorned Avith
every thing that he thought would excite the attention of the
learned. He left no large compositions behind him, having

Vol. IV. Opart 2. had

106 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

had no opportunity to do them, painting; wholly easel pieces,
adapted to a cabinet, such as the curious required of him.

Louis XIII. and DeNoyers, Minister of State and Superin-
tendant of the Buildings, wrote to him at Rome to return to
France: he consented with great reluctance. He had a pension
assigned him, and a lodging furnished at the Thuilleries. He
painted *' the Lord's Supper," for the Chapel of the Chateau
of St. GermainSy and that which is in the Jusuit's noviciate at
Paris. He began " the labors of Hercules''' in the gallery of the
Lbuvre : but Foiiet''s school railing at him and his works, put
him out of humour with his own countr3\ He was also weary
of the tumultuous vray of living at Paris, wdiich never agreed
with him ; he therefore secretly resolved to return to Rome,
pretending he went to settle his domestic affairs and fetch his
wife: but when he got there, whether or no he found himself
as in his center, or was deterred from returning to France by
the deaths of Richlieu and of the Kingy which happened
about that time, he never left Italy afterwards. He continued
working on easel-pieces, and sent them from Rome to Paris ;
the French buying them every where as fast as they could
procure them, valuing his productions as much as those of
Jiaffaelle.

Poussin having lived happily tohis 71st year, died paralytic
in 1665. He married Gaspafs sister, by whom he had no chil-
rcn. His estate amounted to no more than 60,000 livres ; but
he valued ease above riches, and preferred his abode at Rome,
Avhere he lived without ambition, to making his fortune else-
where. He never disputed about the price of his pictures ;
he put down his charge at the back of the canvas, and it was
always given him. He had no disciple Bishop Massini, who
was afterwards a Cardinal, staying once on a visit to him
til! it was dark, Poussin took the candle in his hand, lighted
him down stairs, and waited upon him to his coach. The
Prelate was sorry to see him do it himself, and could not help
saying, '* I very much pity you Monsieur Poussin^ that you
*' have not one servant." And I pity you more, my Lord,"
replied Poussin^ *' that you have so many."

PiETRo BERETTtNi of Cortoua, in Tuscany, was born A. D.
I596,broughtupinthehouse o^ Saclietti,\u Romc,and a disciple
of Baccio Ciarpi. He was universally applauded for the vast

extent

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 107

extent of his genius, the vivacityof his imagination, and an in-
credible facility in the execution of his works. His talent lay
in treating grand subjects; and though he was incorrect in his
design, and expression, and irregular in his draperies, yet
those defects were so happily atoned by the magnificence of
his compositions, the fine airs of his figures, the nobleness of
his decorations, and the surprising beauty and gracefulness of
the whole, that he is allowed to be the most agreeable man-
nerist any age has produced. He practised both in fresco and
oil; but he chiefly excelled in the first. His principal perfor-
mances are on the ceilings and walls of the Churches and Pa-
laces of Rome and Florence. For those few designs that
adorn the cabinets of the curious, we are indebted to his ill
state of health, as he hardly ever made an easel-piece, ex-
cept when a fit of the gout confined him to his chamber. He
was handsome in his person ; and to his extraordinary quali-
ties in painting, joined those of a perfectly honest man. He
was in great esteem with Pope Urban VIII. Innocent X. and
most of the persons of high i*ank in Italy, for his ccnsunmiate
skill in architecture, as well as for his pencil ; and having re-
ceived the honor of knighthood from Pope Alexander VII.
he died A.D. 1669, aged 73.

Giovanni Lorenzo Bernini, born 1598, at once acapital
Sculptor and Architect, was son of a Painter and Sculptor of
France who settled at Rome. At the age of 10 years he made
a head in marble which was much admired, and was distin-
guished by Pope PaulY. At 17 he executed the admired
Daphne in the Villa Pinciana. Gregory XV. made him a
Knight of the Order of Christ. After performing many ca-
pital works in Rome he was invited by Louis XIV. to come to
Paris, to which, after some difficulty, Bernini agreed, being
then 68 years of age. He made several busts and statues of
the King, and other ornaments for Versailles^ but afterwards
returned to Rome, where he died, 1680, aged 82. He was a
great machinist at the Theatre, in whose diversions he took
delight. The list of his works is very extensive.

Sir Anthony van Dyke, was born at Antwerp in 1599,
and educated by the illustrious Riibeiis. He gave early proofs
of excellent endowments ; and while he hvedwith his master,
an affair happened, which may properly be called the foun-
dation of his reputation. Rubens having left a picture unfi-

O 2 nished

108 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Hashed one night, and going out contrary to custom, his scho-
lars took the opportunity of sporting about the room ; when
one, striking at his companion with a maul-stick, chanced to
throw down the picture, which not being dry was consider-
ably damaged. Van Dyke, being at work in the next room,
was prevailed on to repair the mischief. When Rubens came
next morning to his work, first going at a distance to view
his picture, as is usual wnth painters, and having contemplated
it a little, he cried out suddenly, that he liked the piece bet-
ter than he did the night before ! While he lived with Rubens~,
he painted a great number of portraits, and among the rest
that of his master's wife, which was esteemed long after as one
of the best pictures in the Low Countries. Afterwards he went
to Italy, stayed a short time at Rame, and removed toVenice;
■where he attained the beautiful colouring of Titian^ Paul Ve-
lonese, and the Venetian school ; proofs of which appeared in
his pictures at Genoa, where he left behind him many excel-
lent pieces. After a few years spent abroad, he returned to
Flanders, with amannerof painting so noble, natural, and easy,
that Titian himself was hardly his superior; and no other mas-
ter in the world equalled him in portraits. At home he painted
several iiistorical pieces, that rendered his name famous all
over Europe ; but believing he should be more employed in
the courts of foreign princes, if he applied himself to painting
after the lifcj he resolved at last to make it his chief business :
knowing it to be, not only the most acceptible, but the most
advantageous part of his profession. Besides, he was willing
perhaps to signalize himself by a talent, with which nature
hiid particularly favored him ; though some have said, that it
was his master Rubms, who diverted him from history-painting
to portraits, out of a fear that he should become as universal
as himself. The prince of Orange, hearing of his fame, sent
for him to draw the pictures of his princess and children. Car-
dinal Richelieu invited him to France ; where not liking his
entertainment, he stayed but a little time. Then he came to
Xnt^land, soon after ^M^t'/w had left it, and was entertainecj
in the service of Charles I. who conceived a great esteem for
his works ; honoured him with Knighthood; presented him
with his own picture, set round with diamonds ; assigned him
a considerable pension ; sat very often to him for his portrait;
and was imitated by most of the nobility and gentry of the

kingdom.

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 109

ikingdom. He dki a very great number of portraits, about
which he took much care at first ; but at last painted them
very shghtly. A friend asking him the reason of this, he re-
plied, *' I have worked a long time for reputation, and I now
work for my kitchen."

He was a person of low stature, but well proportioned ;tery
handsome, modest, and obliging ; a great e«courager of such
as excelled in art or science, most of whose pictures he drew;
and generous to the last degree. He acquired great riches ;
married one of the fairest ladies of the English court, a daugh--
ter of the Lord Ruthven Earl oiGowrie ; who, though she had
little except her beauty and her quality, lived in a state and
grandeur answerable to her birth. His own dress was gene-
rally rich, bis equipage magnificent, his retinue numerous,
his table splendid, and so much frequented by persons of qua-
lity of both sexes, that his apartments seemed rather the court
©fa prince, than the lodgings of a painter. He grew weary,
toward the end of his life, of the trouble that attended face-
painting ; and, being desirous of immortalizing his name by
some more glorious undertaking, went to Paris, in hopes of
being employed in the Gallery of the Louvre. Not succeed-
ing there, he returned to England ; and proposed to the
King, hy'^ixKenebiiDigby^ to make Cartobrrsfor the Ban-
quetting-house at Whitehall. The subject was td have been
the Institution of the Order of the Garter, the Procession, of
the Knights in their habits, with the ceremony of their Install-
ment, and St. George's feast: but his demand of 80,000l. being
thought unreasonable, while the King was treating with him
for a less sum, the gout and other distempers put an end to
his life. He died in 1641, aged 42 ; and was buried in St.
FauTsy where his monument perished by the fire, in 1666.

Gio. Benedetto Castiglione, a Genoese, at first a disci-
ple oi Bapiista Faggi a.nd Ferrari^ his countrymen, improved
himself afterwards by the instructions of Fa7i Dyke, as long as
he continued at Genoa, and at last became an imitator of the
manner of Nicolo Foussin. He is commended for several prints
of his own etching ; but in painting his inclinations led him to
figures, with landscapes and animals, which he touched with a
great deal of life and spirit, and was particularly remarkable
for a brisk pencil, and a free handling in all his compositions.
He was a person very unsettled in his temper, and never loved

110 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

to stay longr in a place, but being continually upon the ram-
ble, Jiis works lie scattered in Genoa, Rome, Naples, Venice,
Parma, and Mantua, at which last place he died.

James Jordaens, an eminent Painter of the Flemisli
school, was born at Antwerp in 1593. He learned the princi-
ples of his art in that city, from Adam Van Ort; to whose in-
structions, however, he did not entirely confine himself, but
applied to other masters there, whose works he examined
very carefully. He added to this the study of nature from the
originals, struck out a manner entirely his own, and by that
means became one of the most able painters in the Nether-
lands. He wanted nothing but the advantage of seeing Italy,
as he himself testified, by the esteem he had for the Italian
masters,- and by the avidity with which he copied the works
of Titian, Paul Veronese^ the Bassans, and the Caravagios,
whenever he met with any of them. What hindered him from
making the tour of Italy, Avas his marriage, which he entered
into very young, with the daughter of Fan Ort, his master.
Jordaens^ genius lay in the grand gusto in large pieces, and
his manner was strong, true, and sweet. He improved most
under RubenSy for whom he worked, and from whom he drew
his best principles ; insomuch, that it is said, this great mas-
ter being apprehensive lest Jordaens would eclipse him in co-
loring, employed him a long time to draw, in distemper or
water- colors, those grand designs in a suite of hangings for the
Kmg of Spain, after the sketches which i?i^^^;25 had done in
proper colors; and by this long restraint, he enfeebled that
strength and force, in which Jordaens represented truth and
nature so strikingly. Our excellent artist finished several
pieces for the city of Antwerp, and others in Flandei-s. He
■worked also for both their Majesties of Sweden and Denmark.
In a word he was indefatigable; and after he had worked with-
out intermission all day, used to recruit his spirits among his
friends in the evening. He was an excellent companion,
being of achearful and pleasant humor. He lived to about
84, and died at Antwerp in 1678.

ViviANO CoDAzzo, generally called Viviano dalle Pro-
SPETTIVE, was born at Bergamo, in the Venetian territories,
A.D. 1559, and by the instructions oi Jugiislino Tasso, his
master, arrived to a most excellent manner of painting build-
ings.

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. l\\

ings, ruins, &c. His ordinary residence was at Rome, where
he died, A.D. 1674, aged 15, and was buried in the church
of St. Lorenzo in Lucina. He had a son called Nicold, whq
pursued his father's steps, and died at Genoa, in great repu-
tation for his performances in perspective.

Mario Nuzzr, commonly called Mario da Fiori, born
at Orta in the Terra di Sabina, was a disciple of his uncle
^jToynaso Saliniy and one of the most famous masters in his
time for painting flowers. He died at Rome, where he had
spent a great part of his life, and was also buried at St. Lqt
renzo's church, A.D. 1672, aged 73.

Michael Angelo Cerquozzi, was born in Rome, A.D.
1600, and bred up in the school oi Antonio Salvatti, a Bolog-
nese. He was called dalle Battaglie, from his excellent talent
in battles ; but besides his great skill in that particular subject,
he was very successful in all sorts of figures, and painted fruit
incomparably beyond any master of his time. He was buried
in the choir of St. Manf^ church, Rome, A.D. 1660, aged 60.

Gille, commonly calledCLAUDE, of Lorraine, a celebrated
landscape painter, was born in 1600, and sent first to school ;
but proving extremely dull and heavy, was soon taken from
thence, and bound apprentice to a pastry-cook, with whom he
served his time out. Afterwards he went with some young fel-
lows to Rome, with a view of getting his livelihood there ; but
being unable to speak the language, and very ill-br9d, nobody
cared to set him to work. Chance brought him at length to
Augustino TassOy who hired him to grind his colors, clean liis
pallet and pencils, look after his house, dress his meat for him,
and do all his houshold drudgery ; for Augustino kept no other
servant. His master hoping to make him serviceable to him
in some of his works, taught him by degrees the rules of per-
spective and the elements of design. Claude at first did not
know what to make of these principles of art ; but being en-
couraged, and not deficient in application, he came at length
to understand them. Then his mind enlarged apace, and he
cultivated the art with wonderful eagerness. He removed his
study to the banks of the Tiber, in the open fields, where he
would continue from morning to night, taking all his lessons
from nature herself; and by many years' diligent imitation of
that excellent mistress, he arrived at the highest step of per-
fection

112 A OOKCISE HISTORY OF ART.

fection in landscape painting. Sandrart relates, that being iit
the fields with him, for the sake of stud3'ing together, Claude
made him observe, with as much nicety as if he had been well
versed in physics, the causes of the diversity of the same view
or prospect; and explained why it appeared sometimes after
one fashion and sometimes after another, with respect to co-
lors, as the morning dew or evening vapours more or less pre-
vailed. His memory was so good, that he would paint with
great faithfulness when he got home, what he had seen abroad.
He was so absorbed in his labors that he never visited anybody.
The study of his profession was his amusement, and by mere
dint of cultivating his talent, he produced pictures which made
his name deservedly famous throughout Europe, in that part of
painting to which he applied. He has been universally admir-
ed for his pleasing and very agreeable invention ; for the deli-
cacy of his coloring, and the charming variety and tenderness
of his tints ; for his artful distributition of lights and shadows,
for his wonderful conduct in the disposition of his figures, and
for the advantage and harmony of his compositions. Claude
may be produced as an instance to prove, that constant and as-
siduous application will even supply the want of genius ; or, if
this will not be allowed, will draw genius into view, where no-
body suspected any genius was. This industry however he was
always obliged to exert, for he never performed without diffi-
culty ; and, when his performance did not come up to his idea,
he would sometimes do and undo the same piece seven or eight
times over. He was much commended for several of his per-
formances in fresco, as well as oil. He was employed by Pope
Urban Vlll. and many of the Italian Princes, in adorning their
palaces. He died in 1682, and was buried at Rome.

Caspar Dughet, was of French extraction, but born in
Rome, A. D. 1600. He assumed the name of Pow^^m, in gra-
titude for many favors (and particularly that of his education)
which he received from Nicola Poussitiy who married his sister.
fiis first employment under his brother-in-law, was in looking
after his colors, pencils, &c. but his excellent genius for paint-
ing soon discovering itself, by his own industry, and his bro-
ther's instructions, it was so well improved, that in landscape
(which he principally studied) he became one of the greatest
lEnasters of his age ; and was in request for his easy invention,

solid

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 113

solid judgment, regular disposition, and very exact resem-
blance of nature, in all his works. He died 1663, and was bu-
ried in his parish-church of Santa Susanna^ in Rome, aged 63.

Andrea Sacchi, born in Rome, A.D. 1601, was the son of
apainter : but under the conduct of cavalier Gioseppiiio (a mas-
ter of greater fame) by incredible diligence he made such ad-
vances, that before he was twelve j'ears of iige, he carried the
prize, in the academy of St. Luke.^ from all his (much older)
competitors. With this badge of honor, they gave him the
nick-name oi Andreuccio, to denote the diminutive figure he
then made, being a boy. And though he grew up to be a tali,
graceful, and well proportioned man, yet he still retained the
name (Littlt Andrew) almost to the day of his death. His ap-
plication to the chiaro-oscuros oi Folydore^ to the paintings of
Raffaelle^ and to the antique marbles; together with his studies
under Albania and his copies after Correggio, and others, the
best Lombard masters, were the several steps by which he rais-
ed himself to exalted perfection in historical compositions.
The first three gave him his correctness, and elegance of de-
sign, and the last made him the best colorist of all the Roman
school. His works are not very numerous, by reason of the
infirmities that attended him in his latter years ; and more es-
pecially the gout, which often confined him to his bed for se-
veral months together. And besides, he was at all times very
slow in his performances ; because he never did any thing (he
said) but what he proposed should be seen by Ruffadle and
Hannibal y which laid a restraint upon his hand, and made him
proceed with the utmost precaution. His first patrons were
the cardinals Antonio Barberini^ and del Monte, the protector
of the Academy ofPamting. He became afterwards a great fa-
vorite of Pope Urban Vlll. and drew a picture of him, which
(with some other things, he painted after the life) may stand in
competition with whatever has been done by the most renown-
ed for portraits. He was a person of noble appearance, grave,
prudent, and in conversation very entertauiing. He was,
moreover, an excellent Architect, and for many other rare
qualities died much lamented, A. D. 1661, aged 60.

Philip de Champagne, a celebrated painter^ was born at
Brussels in 1602. He discovered an inclination to painting
from his youth. Excepting that he learnt landscape fromFou-

V«l. IV. P part 2. quiere

114 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

quiere, in all branches of his art nature was his master. At 19
years of age, he set oif for Italy, taking p'rance in his way, but
proceeded no farther than Paris. He lodged there in the Col-
lege of Laon, where Poussin also dwelt ; and these two paint-
ers became very good friends. I)u Chesne, painter to Mary of
Medicis, was employed about the paintings in the palace of the
Luxemburg, and set Poussin and Champagne to work under
him. Poussin did a few small pieces it* the ceiling, and Cham-
pagne drew some small pictures in the queen's apartment.
Her majesty liked them so well, that Du Chesne grew jealous
of him ; upon which Chaynpagne, who loved peace, returned
to Brussels, with an interrt to go through Germany into Italy.
He was scarcely got there, when a letter came to him from the
Abbot of St. ylmbmse, who was Surveyor of the buildings, to
to advertise him of J)u Chesnt^sdedth^ and to invite him back
to Fi-ancc. He accordingly returned thither, and was presrcn-
ly made Director of the Queen's paintings, who settled on
himayearly pension of 1200 livrcs, and allowed him lodgings
in the palace of the Luxemburg. Being a lover of his busi-
ness, he went through a great deal of it. The best of bis
works is thought to be \\\s plat fond ., or ceiling, in the King's
Apartment at Vincennes, made on the subject of the peace in
1659. After this he was made Rector of the Royal Academy
of Painting, which office he exercised many years.

He had been a long while famous in his profession, when Le
Brun arrived at Paris from Italy ; and though Le Brun was
soon at the head of the art, and made principal painter to the
King, he shewed no disgust at a preference that Avas his detri-
ment and loss. 1 here is another instance upon record oi Cham-
pagne's goodness of disposition and integrity. Cardinal Rich-
lieu had offered to make his fortune, if he would quit the
queen-mother's service; but Chanipagne refused. The Cardi-
nal's valet de chambre assured him farther, that whatever he
would ask, his Eminency Avould grant him: to which Cham-
pagne replied, "if the Cardinal could make me a better pain-
" ter, the only thing I am ambitious of, it would be some-
" thing; but since that is impossible, the only honour I
"beg of his Eminency is the continuance of his good
"graces." It is said, the Cardinal was much affected with the
integrity of the painter ; Avho though he refused to enter into
his service, did not however refuse to work for him. Among

other

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARtlSTS. Il5

Other things he drew his picture, and it is supposed to be
one of the best piecfes he ever painted.

Champagne died in 1674, having been much beloved by all
that knew him, both as a good painter and a good man. He
had a son and two daughters by his wife the daughter of Du
ChesiiCy whom he married after her father's death: but two of
these children dying before him, and the third retiring to a
nunnery, for she was a daughter, he left his substance to John
Baptiste ie Champagne^ his nephew. John Baptiste was also
born at Brussels, and bred up in the profession of painting un-
der his uncle, whose manner and gusto he always followed : he
spent 15 months in Italy. He lived in the most friendlyand af-
fectionate manner with his uncle, and died Professor of the
Academy of Painting at Paris, in 1688, aged 42 years.

PadreGiacomoCortesi, commonly called, //5o;'^o^no7ze,
from the country where he was born, about the year 1605,
was highly applauded for his admirable gusto, and grand man-
ner of painting battles. He had for sev^eral years been con-
versant in military affairs, was a considerable officer in the
army, made the camp hisschool,and formed all his excellent
ideas from what he had seen performed in the field. His style
was roughly noble, and soldier like, full of fire and spirit; as
is sufficiently evident even in the few prints which he etched.
He retired, towards the latter end of his life, into the Con-
vent of the Jesuits, in Rome ; where he was forced to take
sanctuary, they say, to rid his hands of an ill bargin he had
got in a wife : but happily surviving her, he lived till after
the year 1 675, in great esteem and honor.

GuLiELMO CoRTEsi, his brother, was also a painter of
note : and having been bred up in the school oi Peter Cortona^
shewed how well he had spent his time there, by his perform-
ances in several of the Churches and Palaces of Rome.

Rembrandt van Rhyn, a Flemish painter of great emi-
nence, was the son of a miller, and born near Leyden in 1 606.
He is one of those who owed all his skill in his profession to the
strength of his own genius ; for the advantages of education
were few or none to him. His turn lay so powerfully towards
painting, that he seems to bavebeen incapable of learning any
thing else ; and it is said, that he could scarcely read. We
must not therefore expect to find correctness of design, or a

P 2 gusto

116 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

gusto of the antique, in the works of this painter. He had old
pieces of armour, old instruments, old head-dresses, and abun-
dance of old stuff of various sorts, hanging up in his work-
room,which he said were his antiques. His sole aim was to
imitate living nature, such as it appeared to him; and as the
living nature, which he had continually before his eyes, was
of the heavy kind, it is no wonder, that he should imbibe, as
he did, the bad taste of his country. Nevertheless, he formed
a manner entirely new and peculiar to himself; and drew
abundance of portraits with wonderful strength, sweetness,
and verisimilitude. Even in his etching, which was dark, and
as particular as his style in painting, every individual stroke
did its part, and expressed the very flesh, as well as the spirit,
of the persons it represented. The union and harmony in all
his compositions are such as are rarely to be found in other
masters. He understood the claro obscqro in the highest
degree : his local colors are a help to each other, and appear
best by comparison ; and his carnations are as true, as fresh,
and as perfect as Tiiiuii's.

He prepared his ground with a lay of such friendly colors
as united and came nearest to the life ; upon this he touched
in his virgin tints (each in its proper place) rough, and as lit-
tle disturbed by the pencil as possible; and with great masses
of lights and shadows rounding off hi? figures, gave them a
force and freshness that was very surprising.

There was as great singularity in the behaviour of this man
as in his taste and manner of painting; and he was an humorist
of the first order, though a man of sense and a fine genius. He
affected an old-fashioned slovenlydress,and loved mean and pi-
tiful company, though he had property enough to keep the
best. Some of his friends telling hirjiof it, he answered, "When
" I have a mind to unbend and refresh my mind, I seek not
honor so much as liberty ;" and this humour he indulged, till,
as it usually happens, he reduced his fortunes to a level with
the poorest of his companions. Having painted his maid-ser-
vant's picture, he placed it at a window, and amused himself
in answering the questions put to it by passengers, who mi*:
took it for reality. He died in 1668, " for nothing more to be
admired, than for having heaped up a noble treasure of Italian
prints and drawings, and making no better use of them."

Geraud

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 117

GerardDou, born at Leyden, was a disciple oiRembrajidty
but much more pleasant in liis style of painting, and superior
to him in small figures. He was esteemed in Holland a great
master in his way; and though we must not expect to find in
his works that elevation of thought, that correctness of design,
or that noble spirit, nnd grand gusto, in which the Italians
have distinguished themselves from the rest of mankind, yet
it must be acknowledged, that he was a careful and just imi-
tator of life, exceedingly happy in the management of his
pencil, and in finishing his pieces curious and patient beyond
example. He died about the year 1674, leaving behind him
many scholars, of whom

Francis Mieris, the chief, pursued his master's steps very
closely , and in time surpassed him : being more correct in his out-
line, more bright in his coloring, and more graceful in his com-
position. Wonderful things were expected from his promising
genius; but intemperance, and a thoughtless, random way of
living, cut him off, in the very flower of his age, A.D. 1683.

GoDFRicus ScHALCKEN, in small night-pieces, and repre-
sentations of low-life, by candle-light, out did all the mas-
ters that had gone before him. He was of that school.

John Petitot, was born at Geneva in 1607; his father
was a Sculptor and Architect, who after having passed part
of his life in Italy, retired into that city. His son was in-
tended to be a jeweller; and by frequent employment in
enamelling, acquired so fine a taste, and so precious a tone
of coloring, that Bordier, afterwards his brother-in-law, ad-
vised him to attach himself to portraits, believing he might
push his art to greater lengths ; and though they both wanted
several colors which they could not bring to bear the fire, yet
they succeeded to admiration. Pf///o^ did the heads and hands,
in which his coloring was excellent : Bordier painted the hair,
the draperies, and the grounds. These two friends, agreeing
in their work and their projects, set out for Italy. The long
stay they made there, frequenting the best chemists, joined
to a strong desire of learninp-, improved them in the prepa-
ration of their colors ; but the completion of their success must
be ascribed to a journey they afterwards made to England :
where they found Sir Theodore Mayerne^ physician to Charles
I. and a great chemist ; who, by his experiments, had disco-
vered the principal colors to be used for enamel, and the pro-
per

118 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

per means of virtrifying them. 1 hesc surpassed in beauty all
the enamelling of Venice and Limoges. Mayerne introduced
Petitot to the King, who retained him in his service, and gave
him a lodging in Whitehall. Here he painted several por-
traits after Vandyke^ in which he was guided by that excel-
lent master, who was then in London ;and his advice contri-
buted to the ability of Petitot ^ whose best pieces are after
Vandyke. K\ng Chailes often went to see him work; as he
took pleasure both in painting and chemical experiments, to
which his physician had given him a turn. Petitot painted that
monarch and the whole royal family several times. The dis-
tinguished favor shewn him by that prince was only interrupt-
ed by his unhappy and tragical end: this was a terrible stroke
to Petitot, who did not quit the royal family; but followed
them in their flight to Paris, where he Avas looked on as one of
tlieir most zealous servants. Charles II. after the battle of
Worcester in 1651, went to France ; and during the four
years that prince stayed there, he visited Petitot, and often
eat with him. Now his name became eminent, and all the
court of France were painted in enamel. When Charles II. re-
turned, Lewis XIV. retained Petitot, gave him a pen-
sion and a lodging in the Louvre. These new favors, added to
a considerable fortune he had acquired, encouraged him to
marry in 1661. Afterwards Bordierhecztne his brother-in-law,
and ever remained in a firm union with him : they lived to-
gether till their families growing too numerous obliged them
to separate. Theirfriendship was founded on the harmony of
their sentiments and their reciprocal merit, much more than
on a principle of interest. They had gained, as a reward for
their discoveries and their labors, a million of iivres, which
tl)cy divided at Paris ; and they continued friends without
having a quarrel, or even a misunderstanding, in fifty years.
Petitot copied at Paris several portraits of Mignard and Lc
Brun; yet his talent was not only copying a portrait with an
exact resemblance, but also designing a head most perfectly
after nature. To this he also joined a softness and liveliness of
coloring, which will never change, and ever render his works
valuable. He painted Lexis XIV. Mary Ann of Austria his
mother, and Mary Theresa his wife, several times. As he was a
zealous protestant, and full of apprehensions at the revocation
ofthe edict of Nantz in 1685, he demanded the king's permis-
sion

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 1 19

sion to retire to Geneva ; who finding him urgent, and fear-
ing he should escape, cruelly arrested him, and sent him to
Fort I'Eveque, appointing the bishop of Meaux his instructor
tjhere. Yet neither the eloquence of Bossuet, nor the terrors
of a dungeon could prevail. He was not convinced, but the
vexation and confinement threw him into a fever, of which
the king being informed, ordered him to be i*eleased. He no
sooner found himself at liberty, than he set off wuth his wife
to Geneva, after a residence at Paris of thirty-six years. —
His children remained in that city, and apprehending the
king's resentment, threw themselves on his mercy, and piti-
ously implored his royal protection. The king received them
with favor, and told them he could forgive an old man the
whim of desiring to be buried with his fathers.

When Petitot returned to his own country, he cultivated
his art with great ardor, and had the satisfaction of enjoying
to the end of his life the esteem of connoisseurs. The king and
queen of Poland wished to have their pictures copied by Pe-
titotj though then above eighty. They gave him a hundred
louis d'ors ; and he executed it as if he had been in the flower
of his age. The concourse of his friends, and the resort of
the curious to see him Avas so great, that he retired to Veray,
a little town in Berne, where he worked in quiet. He was
about the picture of his wife, when a distemper cai'ried him
off in one day, 1691, aged 84. His life was always exem-
plary, and his end was the same. He preserved his usual
candor and ease of temper to his last hour. By his marriage
he had seventeen children ; but only one of his sons applied
himself to painting, and he settled in London. His father
sent him several of his works, to serve him for models. His
family is now settled in Dublin.

Petitot may be called the inventor of painting in enamel ;
though Bordier his brother-in-law, made several attempts be-
fore him, and Sir 7^/^eoc?ore .^aj/ernff had facilitated the means
of employing the most beautiful colors, it was Petitot who
finished the work, which, under his hand, acquired such a
degree of perfection, as to surpass miniature and even equal
oil painting. He used gold and silver plates, rarely emamel-
ling on copper. When he first came in vogue, his price was
twenty louis a portrait, which he soon raised to forty. His

custom

120 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

custom was to carry a painter with him, who painted the
picture in oil ; when Petitot sketched out his work, which he
always finished after life. On painting the king of France,
he took those pictures that most resembled him for his pat-
terns; and the king afterwards ga^e him a sitting or two to
complete his work. He labored with great assiduity, and
never laid down his pencil but with reluctance ; saying, that
he always found new beauties in his art to charm him.

Adrian Brouwer was born in tlie city of Haerlem, A.D.
1608 ; and besides his great obligations to nature, was very
much beholden to Francis HalSy who took him from begging
in the streets, and instructed him in the rudiments of paint-
ing. To make him amends for his kindness, Brouwer when
he found himself sufficiently qualified to get a livelihood, ran
away from his master into France, and after a short stay there
returned and settled at Antwerp. Humor was his proper
sphere : and it was in little pieces that he used to represent
boors, and others, as pot-companions drinking, smoaking to-
bacco, gaming, fighting, &c. with a pencil so tender and
free, such excellent drawing in all the particular parts, and
good keeping in the whole together, that none of his coun-
trymen have ever been comparable to him in any of those
subjects. He was facetious and pleasant over his cups, as
long as he had any money scorned to work, declared for a
short life and a merry one ; and resolving to ride post to his
grave by the help of wine and brandy, got to his journey's
end A. D. 1638 ; so very poor, that contributions were rais-
ed to lay him privately in the ground : from whence he was
soon after taken up, and, 'tis said, very handsomely interred
by Rubens, who was a great admirer of his happy genius for
painting.

PiETRO Frakcesco Mola, of Lugauo, born A.D. 1609,
was a disciple of yilhani, whose agreeable and pleasant style
of painting he acquired, excepting that his coloring was not so
liiilliant. But as his conceptions were li\ely and warm, so
hetlesigned with great spirit and liberty of pencil, sometimes
perhaps more than was in strictness allowable. He was in
such great esteem, however, for abundance of fine perform-
ances in Rome, that his sudden death, A.D. 1665, was re-
gretted by all the lovers of art. He was aged 56.

Gio

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 121

Gio Uattista Mola Avas his brother ami fellow disciple-
Though he eould not attain the perfcctioii of Albania in his
figures, which in truth were a little hard, yet in landscapes
he carne so very near him, that liis four large pieces in duke
SalviatPs palace at Rome, are generally taken for his mas-
ter's hand.

Samuel Cooper, an English miniature painter, was born
in Londoit, 1609, and bred under the care and discipline of
l\]r. I/os/iins, his uncle ; but derived the most advantage from
his observations on the works of Vambjke, insomuch that h«
was commonly styled the Fandyke in little. His pencil was
generally confined to a head only ; and indeed below that
part he was n(<t always so successful as could be wished. For
a face and all its dependences — the graceful and becoming
air,' the strength, relievo, and noble spirit, the softness and
tender liveliness of flesh and blood, and the looseness and
"■entle management of the hair — his talent was so extraordi-
nary, that for the honor of our nation it may be affirmed,
he was at least equal to the most famous Italians, and that
hardly any one has been able to shew so much perfection in
so narrow a compass. The high prices his works sold at, and
the great esteem they were in at Rome, Venice, and in
France, were abundant proofs of their worth, and extended
the fame of this master throughout Europe. He so far ex-
ceeded his master and uncle, Hoskins, that the latter became
jealous of him : finding his nephew's productions were bet-
ter liked by the court than his, he took him into partnership.
His jealousy increased, and he dissolved it, leaving our artist
to set up for himself, and to carry, as he did, most of the
business of that time before him. He drew Charles II. and
his queen, the duchess of Cleveland, the Duke of York, and
most of the court ; but his greatest pieces, were those of
Oliver Cromwell and of one Swingfield. The French king
offered 15ol. for the former, but could not have it ; and Coo-
per carrying the latter with him to France, it was much ad-
mired there, and introduced him into the favor of that court.
He did several large limnings in an unusual size for the court
of England, for which his widow received a pension during
her life, from the crown.

Vol. IV. 2 part 2 Answerable

122 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

Answerable to Cooper''s abilities in painting, was his skill
in music ; he was reckoned one of the best lutenists, as well
as the most excellent limner, of his time. He spent several
years of his life abroad, was personally acquainted with tha
greatest men of France, Holland, and his own country, and
by his works was known in all parts of Christendom. He
died at London in 1672, aged 63, and was buried in St. Pan-
crass' church in the fields, where there is a marble monu-
ment set over him, with a Latin inscription.

He had an elder i>rother, Alexander Cooper^ who, with him
was brought up to limning by Hoskins, their uncle. Alex-
amler performed well in miniature ; and going beyond sea,
became limner to Christina^ queen of Sweden, yet was far
exceeded by his brother Samuel. He also did landscapes in
water colors extremely well, and was accounted an admir-
able draftsman,

Adrian van Ostade, an eminent Dutch painter, was
born at Lubeck in 1610, and came to Haerlem very young to
study under Frank Hals^who was then in esteem as a painter.
Ostade formed under him a good taste in coloring, adopted
the manner of the country, and settled there. Nature ever
guided his pencil : he diverted himself with clowns and
drunkards, whose gestures and most triHing actions were the
subjects of his deepest meditations. The compositions of his
little pictures are always smoakings, alehouses, or kitchens.
He is one of the Dutch masters who best understood the chi-
ai'o oscuro : his figures are very lively, and he often painted
them in the landscapes of the best painters among his coun-
trymen. Nothing can excel his pictures of stables : the liglit
is spread with surprising judgment. All that one could wish
in this master is a lighter stroke in his designing, and not to
have made his figures so short. He exercised his art several
years at Haerlem, with great reputation, till the approach of
the French troops alarmed him in 1672 ; so that in the reso-
lution to return into his native land,in order to secure himself
against hazards from the events of war, he sold his pictures,
furnitiue, and other effects. Arriving at Amsterdam to em-
bark, he met with a lover of painting, who engaged him to
take a lodging in his house. Ostadey obliged by his civilities,

quitted

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MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS 12$

quitted the project of his voyage, and worked several years
in making that beautiful set of colored designs which has
since passed into the cabinet of Jonas Witzen ; where there
arc some inns, taverns, smoaking-houses, stables, peasants,
houses, seen from without, and often within, with an uncomi.
mon understanding of color and truth. The pictures of this
master are not equal : the middling ones, which are ascribed
improperly to him, are of his brother /^aac, who was his dis-
ciple, and painted in the same taste, without being able to
attain the excellence of Adrian. He was born at Lubeck,
aad lived usually at Haerlem, where death surprised him
very young, denying him time to perfect himself.

The city of Amsterdam lost Adrian Ostade in 1685, aged
75, very much regretted by all true lovers of painting. His
prints engraved by his own hand, in aqua fortis, large and
small, make a set of fifty-four pieces. Vischer and Suyder-
hoef, and others, have engraved after him.

William Dobson, a gentleman descended of a family
very eminent in St. Alban's, was born in St. Andreiifs pa-
rish in Holborn, A.D. 1610. Who first instructed him in
the use of his pencil, is uncertain : of this we are well as-
sured, that he was put out early apprentice to a Mr Peake,
a stationer and dealer in pictures ; and that nature, his best
mistress, inclined him so powerfully to the practice of painting
after life, that had his education been answerable to his o-e-
nius, England might have been as proud of her Dobson, aS
Venice of her Titian^ or Flanders of her Vandyke. How-
much he owed to the latter of those great men, may easily be
•seen in all his works. No painter ever came up so near to
the perfection of that excellent master, as this his happy im-
itator. He was also indebted to the generosity of Vandyke^
in presenting him to King Charles I. who took him into his
immediate protection, kept him in Oxford all the while his
majesty continued in that city ; sat several times to him for
his picture, and induced the prince of Wales, prince Rupert,
and most of the Lords of his court, to do so. He was a fair,
middle-sized man, of a ready wit, and pleasing conversation ;
was somewhat loose and irregular in his living ; and notwith-
standing the opportunities which he had of making his for-

2 2 tune

121- A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART,

tune, died very poor, at liisliouse in St. Miirtiii's Lane, A.D.
1647, aged 37. It is to be observed of this artist, that as he
had the misfortune to want suitable helps in liis beginning to
apply himself to [>t-inting, so he also wanted more encourage-
ment than the unhappy times could aflord.

Michael Angelo Pace, born A.D. 1610, and called ^/i
Compidoglio^ because of an office he h;id in the capitol, was a
disciple of Fioravanti, and very much esteemed in Italy, for
his admirable talent in painting fruit and still-life. He died
in Rome y\.D. 1670, leaving behind him two sons, of whom
Gio Bapiisia, the e\ik'^t, was brought up to History-painting,
under Francesco Mola, and went into the service of the king
of Spain; but ihe other, called Pictro, died in his prime,
ond only lived just long enough to shew, that a few year9
more would have made him one of the greatest masters in
the world.

PiETRo Testa was born at Lucca, in the dukedom of
Florence, A.D. 1611 ; and having laid the foundation of
painting at home, ^^ cut very poor to Home, and spent some
time in the school of Domenichi'no ; but afterwards fixed him-
ScU" in that of Peter Corlona. fie was so indefatigable in his
^tudies, that there was not a piece of architecture, a statue,
a bas-relief, a monument, or the least fragment of antiquity,
in or about Rome, that he had not designed and got by heart.
He was a man of quick head, a ready hand, and a lively
spirit, in most of his performances ; but yet for want of sci-
ence, and good rules to cultivate and strengthen his genius,
all those hopeful qualities ran to weeds, and produced little
else but monsters, and wild extravagant fancies : he tried
very often to make himself perfect in the art of coloring, but
never had any success that way; and indeed was chiefly com.
mended for liis drawings and the prints which he etched. —
He was drowned in the Tyber, A.D. 1650, aged 82. Some
said he accidentally fell off from the bank, as he was endea-
vouring to recover his hat, which the wmd had blown into
the water. But others, who were well accjuaintcd with the
morose and melancholy temj)er of the man, thought it to be
a voluntary and premeditated act.

Charles Alphonse nu Fresno y, born at Paris A.D.
161 1 , from his infancy gave such extraordinary proofs of his

attachment

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MEMOIRS OF THE rRINClPAL ARTISTS. 125

ali^iment to the muses, that he -would undoubted!}' liave
beei) the [greatest poet in his time, if the art of painting, i^
niistres< equally beloved, had not divided and weakened his
talent. He was about 20 when he learnt to design under
Perricr and Vouet ; and m 1 C34 went to "Rome, where he con-
tracted an intimate friendsliij) with Mignard as lasting as
life. He had a soul not to he satisfied with a superficial
knowledge of his art. He resolved to go to the root, and ex-
tract the quintessence. He made himself familiar with the
Greek and Latin poets ; studied anatomy and the elements of
geometry, with the rules of perspective and architecture ;
|:Iesigned after the life in the academy ; after Raffaelle. in the
Vatican ; and after antiquities wherever he found them : and
making critical remarks as he gained ground, drew up a body
of them in Latin verse, and laid the plan of his incompar-
able poem, de arte Graphka. In conformity to the princi-
ples therin established, he endeavored to execute his own
thoughts. But as he never had been well instructed in the
management of his pencil, his hand was extremely slow; and
beside, having employed most of his time in an attention to
the theory of jminting, he had so little left for practice, that
his performances, exclusive of his copies after others, do
not exceed fifty historical pieces. Of all his compositions,
his poem was his favorite ; being the fruit of above twenty
years' labor. He sent it to the masters of greatest note in all
places where he went, particularly to Albani and Gitera'nOf
at Bologna. He consulted also the men of letters and the
best authors on painting, as well as the works of the most ce-
lebrated professors of the art, before he put the last hand to
it. On his return from Italy, in 1656, he seemed very in-
clinable to give it to the public ; but whether he was per-
suaded that a translation would make it of more general use,
or was unwilling it should go abroad without the commen-
tary, which he promised us in the poem, it was not printed
till after his death, which happened A. D. 1665, aged 54. —
He had a particular veneratiou for Tiiian,a.s the most perfect
imitator of nat^ure, and followed him in his manner of color-
ing as he did the Car^acci in the gusto of design. Never did a
French master come so near Titian ^ as Fresnoy. Whatever
he may want in his pencil to make him famous in after-ages,

his

126 A COHCrSE HISTORY OF ART.

his pen has abundantly supplied ; and his poem i\\yon paint-
ing will keep his name alive as long as either of those arts
find esteem in the world.

Gio Francesco Romanelli, bornat ViterbroA.D. 1612,
was the favorite disciple of Pcttr Cortona, in whose school
there was hardly any one equal to him for correctness of de-
sign, or for imitation of the new style of painting introduced
by that famous master. His works are in all places well es-
teemed, but more especially at Rome, where his presentation
©f the blessed Virgin, is by strangers judged to be of Peter
Cortona^ s hznd. Died A.D. 1665, aged 50.

JoNN JouvENET, a French painter, was the son cf Lmv-
rtence Jouvenet^ also a painter, who descended from a race of
painters originally of Italy. yo/z« was born at Rouen 1614.
The elements of his art were taught him by his father, who
sent him to Paris for improvement. In that city he shortly
became a very able painter. Le Brun being sensible of his
^i^rit employed him in the pieces which he did for Lewis. — ■
He also presented him to the academy of painting, where he
was received with applause ; and gave him for his chef (Tccu-
vre a picture of Esther fainting before AbasueruSy which
the academicians reckon one of their best pieces. After
passing through all the offices of the academy, he was elect-
ed one of the four perpetual rectors nominated on the death
pf Mignard. His genius lay to great works in large and
spacious places, which shew that he is to be ranked among
the best masters France has produced. His easel pieces arc
pot near so valuable as his large ones, the vivacity of his ge-
nius not suffering him to return to his work to finish it, and
there are but few of these. He painted a great many por-
traits, some of which are in esteem, though he was inferior
in that way to several of his contemporaries.

In the latter end of his life, he was struck with a palsy on
\i\^ right side, so that having tried to no purpose the virtue
of nnineral water?, he despaired of being tble to paint any
longer. However, giving a lecture to one of his nephews,
be took the pencil into his left hand, and trying to retouch
his disciple's piece in some places, he succeeded so well,
t-hatit encouraged him to attempt again, till at last he deter-
mined

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 127

mined to finish with liis left Iidnd a large ceiling which he
had begun in the grand hall of the parliament at Rouen, and
a large piece of the Annunciation, which we see in the choir
of the church of Paris. These are his last works, and they
are no ways inferior to his best. He died at Paris in 1717,
leaving no sons to inherit his genius ; but in default of sons,
he had a disciple in his nephew, who after his death was re-
ceived into the royal academy of painting and sculpture.

Salvator Rosa, a Neopolitan, born A.D. 1614, in both
the sister arts of poetry and painting, was esteemed one of
the greatest masters that Italy produced in that century. —
In the first his province was satire, in the latter landscapes,
battles, havens, «kc. with small history. He Avas a disciple
of Daniele Falcone^ his countryman, an artist of good repute,
whose instructions he much improved by his study after the
antiques,andthe works of the mosteminent painters that went
before him. He was famed for his copious and florid inven-
tion, for his solid judgment in the ordering of his pieces, for
the genteel and uncommon management of his figures, and
his general knowledge in all the parts of painting ; but that
which gave u more particular stamp to his compositions, was
his liberty of pencil, and the noble spirit which animated
all his works. Rome was the place where he spent the
greater part of his life ; courted and admired by all men of
quality, and where he died A.D. 1673, aged 59. It is said
lae lived a very dissipated youth, and that he even associated
with banditti, which course of life naturally led him, as are-
treat, into those wild scenes of nature, which he' afterwards
so nobly described on canvass. Few of his larcrer works
have found their way into England ; but his paintings beino-
in few hands, he is more generally known by his prints, of
which he etched a great number. They chiefly consist c»f
small single figures, and of historical pieces. There is great
delicacy in them both in drawing and etching ; but very ht»
tie strength or general effect.

Carlo (commonly called CarlinoJ Dolci^ a Florentine,
born A.D. 1616, was a disciple of Jacoho Vignali^ and a man
of condition and property. He had a pencil wonderfully soft

and

128 A CONCISE HISTORY OE ART,

and beautiful, which he consecrated to divine subjects; hav-
ing rarely painted any thin^r else, except some portraits, in
■which he succeeded so well, that he was sent for into Gernui>
ny to draw the Empress's picture. His talent lay in finish-
ing all his works to a degree of neatness infinitely surprising;
bu't bis hand was so slow, that, if we may believe tradition,
he had his brain turned on seeing the famous Luca Giordano
dispatch more business in four or five hours, than he himself
could have done in so many months. He died 1686, aged 70.
Sir Peter Lely, an excellent painter of the English
school, was born 1611, at Westphalia, in Germany. He was
bred up for some time at the Hague, and afterwards placed
under one de Grebber. The great encouragement wiiich
Charles I. gave to the polite arts, and to painting in particu_
lar, drew him to England, 164!, where l)e followed his natu-
ral genius at first, and painted landscapes with small figures,
as also historical compositions ; hut after a while, finding
painting more patronized, he tur^ied his study that way, and
shortly succeeded so well, that he surpassed all his colempo-
raries. By this merit he became |)crpetually involved in
business, and he was thereby prevented from going to Italy,
to finish the course of his studies, which in his younger days
he was very desirous of. However he made himself amends,
by getting the best drawings, prints, and paintings, of the
most celebrated Italian hands. I'his he laboured at so indus-
triously, that he procured the best chosen collection of any
one of his time. Among these were the better part of the
Arundel collection, which he had from that family, many of
Avhich wpre sold at his death, at prodigious rates, bearing on
them his usual marlv, F*. L. ; and the advantage he reaped
from it appears in that admirable style which he acquired by
daily conversing with the works of those great masters. In
his correct design and beautiful coloring, but especially in the
graceful air of his heads, and the variety of his postures, with
his exquisite management of draperies, he excelled most of
his predecessors. Yet critics remark in most of his faces a
languishing air and a drowsy sweetness peculiar to hinjself,
foy which they reckon him a mannerist; and he retained

a little

History of Art P],;lll.pa;i2

Egyptian Paintings

HlSToKYof Art Pj..lV.paa28.

Egyptian Paintings

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 129

a little of the greenish cast in his complexions, not easily ibr-
jTcttinc; tlie colors he had used in ins landscapes; which last
fault, liowcver true at lirst, it is well known he left off in his
latter days. But wliatevcr of this kind may be objected to this
painter, it is certain iiis works arc in great esteem in other
parts, as well as in England, and are both ecjnally valued and
envied; for at that time no countr}^ exceeded liis perfections,
as the vsLvious BeaiU ic'S oi' the age, represented by his hand,suf-
ficicntl}' evince. He frequently did the landscapes in his own
pictures after a different nuunier from others, and better than
most could do. lie was likewise a good history-l)ainter, as
many pieces now among us shew. His craj'on pictures Avere
also admirable, and those are commonly reckoned the most
valuable of his pieces, which were done entirely by himself,
without any other assistance. Philip P!arl of Pembroke, then
Lord-chamberlain, recommended him toCha. I. M'hosc picture
he drewj w hen prisoner at Hampton-court. He was also much
favored by Charles II. who n)ade him his principal painter,
knighted him, and would fre(^uently converse with him, as a
person of good natural parts and acquired knowledge. He was
well known to, and much respected by, persons of the greatest
eminence in the kingdom. He became enamoured of a beauti-
ful English lady, to whom he was afterwards married ; and he
purchased an estate at Kew, in the county of Surry (his family
remains there still) to which he often retired in the latter part
of his life. He died of an apoplexy, 1680, at London, and M-as
buried at Covent-garden church, where a marble monument
is erected to hismemory,with his bust, carved by Mr. Gibbons,
and a Latin epitaph, written, it is said, by Mr. Flatman.

EusTACHE LE SuEUR, OHO of the bcst painters which the
French nation has produced, was born at Paris in 1617, and
studied the principles of his art under Simon Vouct, whom he
infinitely surpassed. It is remarkable that Le Sueur was never
out of France, and yet he carried his art to perfection. His
works shew a grand gusto of design, winch was formed upon
antiquit}-, and after the best Italian masters. He invented with
ease, and his execution was always worthy of his designs, he
was ingenious, discreet, and delicate in the choice of "his ob-
jects. His attitudes are simple and noble; his expressions fine,
singular, and very well adapted to the subject. His draperies
are set after the gout of Iiajfae/ic's last works. He knew little

VoLIV. /i pari 2 of

ISO A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

of the local colors, or the claro obscuro : but he was so much
master of the other parts of painting, that there was a great
likelihood of his throwing oEVouci's manner entirely, had he
lived longer, and once relished that of the Venetian school ;
which he would certainly have imitated in his coloring, as he
imitated the manner of the Roman school in his designing.
For, immediately after Vouefs death, he perceived that his
master had led him out of the way; and by considering the an-
tiques that were in France, and the designs and prints of the
best Italian masters, particularly Kaffaelle's^ he acquired a
more refined style and a happier manner. Le Brun could not
forbear being jealous of Le Sueur, who did not mean to give
any man pain, for he had great simplicity of manners, much
candor, and exact probity. His principal works are at Paris,
■where he died April 30th, 1655, 38 years of age. The life of
St. Bruno, in the cloister of the Carthusians, at Paris, is reck-
oned his master-piece. They are now in the Louvre.

John Greenhill, a very ingenious Fnglish painter, was
descended from a good family in Salisbury, where he was
born. He was the most excellent of the disciples of Sir Peter
Lely, who is said to have considered him so much as a rival,
that he never suffered hiiji to see him pviint. Greenhill, how-
ever, prevailed with Sir Peter to draAv his wife's picture, and
took the opportunity of observing how he managed his pen-
cil ; which was the great point aimed at. This gentleman was
finely qualified by nature, for both the sister-arts of painting
and pottry ; but death taking advantage of his loose and un-
guarded manner of living, snatched him away betimes, and
only suffered him just to leave enough of his hand, to make
lis wish he had been more careful of a life so likely to have
done great honor to his country. This painter won so much
on the celebrated Mrs. Behn, that she endeavored to perpe-
tuate his memory by an elegy, to be found among her Avorks.
We know not the year either of his birth or death.

William Faithorne, an ingenious English engraver and
painter, flourished in the nth century. After the civil wars
broke out, he went into the army, ; M'hen being taken prison-
er in Basing-house, and refusing to take the oaths to Oliver,
he was banished into France. He studied several years under
the famous Champagne, and arrived to a very great correct-
ness of drawing. He was also a great proficient in engrav-
ing,

IIlSTOKY oi" ART l*L;V.pa.i30.

N?l

Elevation

pf the
Aatonine (ofu/nn

N?3

ABC

Section

of the
Antpnine Column.

rriSTORY of AKT l*I,:Vipa;i3i.

PZAJf of t/if . (/rm/ PYRAMID . SF.CTIOJSf of the PYRAMID.

"^^C'-^ -^^

^O^V,

fe^le

Tlie Rock
leveUfri hy cilttint)

TomJts k Gn^ttoes ^^

o a *"

Q;-'--^ n " ^^^^^^

~^"' Temple

a I r I JhtaU Pyramids

•^.,.

*.--

is^

. ' Sphtnx' " " "■ ■~~

Plan of' the Situjtios of the Pyramids.

MEMOIRS OF THE PRI^"CIPAL ARTISTS. 131

ing, as likewise in painting, especially in miniature, of which
there are many specimens now extant in England. Ke died
in Biackfriars, in 1 C9 1 , when he was nearly 75 years of age,

William J-'aifhorne, the son, who performed chiefly in mez-
zo-tinto, has often been confounded with the father.

Sebastian Bourdon, an eminent French painter, born at
jMontpeilier in 1610, had a genius so fiery that it would not.
let him reflect sufficiently, nor study the essentials of his art
so much as was necessary to render him perfect in it. He was
seven years at Rome, but obliged to leave it before he had fi-
nished his studies, on account of a quarrel. However, he ac-
quired so much reputation, both in landscape and history,
that, upon his return to trance, he had the honor of being
the first who was made Rector of the Royal Academy of
Painting and Sculpture at Paris. The fine arts being inter-
rupted by the civil wars in France, he travelled to Sweden,
where he stayed two years. He was very well esteemed, and
nobly presented, by that great patroness of arts and sciences,
Queen Christiana, Avhose portrait he made. He succeeded
better in landscapes than in history-painting. His pieces are
seldom finished ; and those that are so are not always the
finest. He laid a wager with a friend, that he would paint 12
heads, after the life, and as big as the life, in a day; he won
it: and these heads are said not to be the worst things he ever
did. He drew a vast number of pictures. His most consider-
able pieces are *' The Gallery of M. de BretonvillierSy'' in the
isle of Notre-Dame; and, "The seven Works of Mercy,"
which he etched himself. But the most esteemed of all his
performances is " The Martyrdom of St. PetCT^'' drawn for
the church of Notre-Dame : it is kept as one of the choicest
rarities of that cathedral. Bourdon was a Calvinist ; much va-
lued and respected, however, in a Popish country, because
his life and manners were good. He died in 1673, aged 54.

Charles le Brun, an illustrious French painter, of Scot-
tish extraction, was born in 1619. His father was a statuary
by profession. At three years of age it is reported he drew
figures with charcoal ; and at 1 2 he drew the picture of his
uncle so well, that it still passes for a fine piece. His father
being employed in the gardens atSeguier,and having brought
his son with him, the Chancellor of that name took a likins to
him, and placed him with Simon Vouet, an eminent painter,

R2 who

132 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

was greatly surprised at young Le Brunts, amazing profienc}-.
He was afterwards sent to Fontainbleau, to take copies ot
some of Raffaellts pieces. 'Ihc Chancellor sent him next to
Italy, and supported him there for six years. Lt Brun, in his
return, met with the celebrated Poussin, by whose conversa-
tion he greatly improved himself in his art, and contracted a
friendship with him which lasted as long as their lives. Car-
dinal Mazarine, a good judge of painting, took great notice
oi Le Bruii, and often sat by him while he was at work. A
picture of St. Stepht^n, which he finished in 1651, raised his
reputation to the highest pitch. Soon after this the King, on
the representation of M. Colbert, made him his first painter,
and conferred on him the order of St. Michael. His iNIajesty
employed two hours every day in looking upon him whilst
he was painting the family of Darius, at Fontambleau.
About 1662 he began his five large pieces of the history of
yllexander the Great, in which he is said to have set the ac-
tions of that conqueror in a more glorious light than 'Jluintus
Curtius in his history. He procured several ad vantages for t':e
Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture at Paris, and form-
ed the plan of another for the students of his own nation at
Rome. There was scarce any thing done for the advancement
of the fine arts in which he was not consulted. It was through
the interest of M. Colbert that the King gave him the direc-
tion of all his works, and particularly of his royal manufac-
tory at the Gobelins, where he had a handsome house," with a
liberal salary assigned to him. He was also made Director and
Chancellor of the Royal Academy, and shewed the greatest
zeal to encourage the fine arts in France. He was endowed
■with a vast inventive genius, which extended itself to arts of
every kind. He was well acquainted with the history and
manners of all nations. Besides his extraordinary talents, his
))chaviour was so genteel, and his address so pleasing, that he
attracted the regard and afiection of tlie whole court of
jFrance, where, by the places and pensions conferred on him
by the King, he made a very considerable figure. He died at
his house in theGobelins, in J690, leaving a wife, but no chil-
dren. He was author of a curious treatise " Of Physiogno-
my,^' and of another, ** Of the Characters of the Passions."
The paintings which gained him tlie greatest reputation were,
besides what we have already mentioned, those he finished
at Fontainbleau, the stair-case at Versailles, but especially the

'jrand

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. loo

grand gallery there, which was tjie last of his works, and is
said to have taken him up fourteen years. A more particuhiv
account of these, or a general character of his other perfor-
mances, would take up too much room here. Those wIjo
Mant further satisfaction on this suhject, may consult the
writings of his countrymen, who have been very lavish in his
praises, and very full in their accounts of his works.

Philip Wouvermans, an excellent painter of Holland,
born at Haerlem in 1620, was the son of Paul WauvermanSy
a tolerable history-painter; of whom, however, he did not
learn the principles of his art, but of John JFynants, an ex-
cellent painter of Haerlem. It does not appear that he ever
was ii> Italy, or ever quitted the city of Haerlem ; though no
man deserved more the encouragement and protection of
some powerful prince than he did. He is one instance, among
a tliousaud, to prove that oftentimes the greatest merit re-
mains without either recompence or honor. His works have
all the excellencies wc can wish, high finishing, correctness,
agreeable composition, and a taste for coloring, joined with a
force that approaches to the CaraccVs. The pieces he paint-
ed in his latter time have a grey or bluish cast : they are fi-
nished with too much labor, and his grounds look too much
like velvet: but those he did in his prime are free from these
fatdts, and equal in coloring and correctness to any thing
Italy can produce. Wouvermans generally enriched his land-
scapes with huntings, encampment of armies, and other sub-
jects where horses naturally enter, Mdiich he designed better
than any painter of his time : there are also some battles and
attacks of villages by his hand. These beautiful works, which
gained him great reputation, did not make him rich : on the
contrary, having a numerous family, and being but indiffe-
rently paid for his work, he lived very meanly; and though he
painted quick, and was very laborious, he had much ado to
niaintain himself. The misery of his condition determined
him not to bring up any of his children to painting; in his
last hours, which happened at Haerlem in 1668, he burnt a
box filled with his studies and designs, saying, " I have been
*' so ill paid for my labors, that I would not have those de-
" signs engage my son in so miserable a profession."

Nicholas Mignard, an ingenious French painter, was
born at Troves; whence, having learned the rudimeuts of hia

art

134 A COi:CISE HIS I DRY OF ART-

art, he wer.t to Italy. On his return he married at Avignon,
which occasioned him to be called Mignanl of Avignon, He
was afterwards employed at the court and at Paris, and be-
came Rector of the Academy of Paintmg. He excelled prin-
cipally in coloring ; and there are a great number of portraits
and historical pieces of his doing. He died of a dropsy in
1668, leaving behind h'm a brother, Peter Mignard, who
succeeded M. Le Briin in 1690, as first painter to the King,
and as Director and Chancellor of the Royal Academy of
Painting. He died March 13, 1695, aged 84. His portraits
are extremely beautiful.

Cavalier Giacinto Brandi, born at Poli, in the Eccle-
siastical State, A.D. 1623, was one of the best masters that
came out of the school of Lanfranc. His performances in
the cupolas and ceilings of several of the Roman churches
and palaces are sufficient evidence that there was nothing
wanting, either in his head or hand, to merit the reputation
and honor he acquired. Died A.D. IG91, aged 68.

Peter Paul Pughet, one of the greatest painters that
France ever produced, though not mentioned by an}' of their
own writers, was born at Marseilles in 1623. We have no
account of his education in this art; but in his manner he re-
sembled Michael Angela, without imbibing his faults ; being
both more delicate and more natural than that great master :
like whom too, Pughet united the talents of painting, sculp-
ture, and architecture. Not contented with animating the
marble, and rendering it in appearance as Hexible as flesh it-
self, when he was called upon to exert his skill, he raised
and adorned palaces in a manner that proved him a judicious
architect; and, when he committed the charming produc-
tions of his imagination to canvass, he painted such pictures
as the delighted beholder was never tired with viewing. He
died in the place of his birth, in 1695.

Philippo Lauro was born in Rome, A.D. 1623, and train-
ed up to painting under his brother-in-law Angela Carosello,
whom he assisted in many of his works, and always acquitted
himself with applause. But, upon leaving his master, he
pursued his own genius, in a style quite difl^erent from him;
and contracting his talent into a narrower compass, confined
his pencil to small figures, and histories in little. He lived
for the most part in Rome, highly valued for his rich vein of
mvcntion and accurate judgment, for the purity of his out-

liut?

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 135

line, the delicacy of his coloring, and tlie graceful spirit that
brightened all his compositions. Died A.D. 1694, aged TU

Carlo Maratti ■was born at Camorano, near Ancona,
A.D. 1625. He came a poor boy to Rome, at eleven years
of age, and at twelve recommended himself so advantage-
ously to Andrea Sacchi, by his designs after Raffadk^ in tlie
Vatican, that he took him into his school, where he continued
his studies 25 years, to the death of his master. His graceful
and beautiful ideas were the occasion of his being generally
employed in painting Madonnas and female saints. Hence
Sahator Hosa satirically nick-named him Carluccio della Ala-
donna. This he was so far from reckoning a diminution of his
character, that in the inscription on his monument at Termini
(placed there by himself nine years before his decease) he calls
it ^^ glo}-zosu7}i cognomen tu77i" and professes his particular de-
votion to the blessed Virgin. He possessed an excellent style,
great elegance of handling, and correctness of outline. From
the finest statues and pictures he had made himself master of
the most perfect forms, and charming airs of heads, which he
sketched with as much ease and grace as Parmegiano^ ex-
cepting that author's profiles. He has produced a nobler va-
riety of draperies, more artfully managed, more richly orna-
mented, and with greater propriety, than even the best of the
moderns. He was inimitable in adorning the head, and in the
disposal of the hair : and his elegant forms of hands and feet,
(so truly in character) are hardly to be found in Raffaelle him-
self. Among the many excellent talents he possessed, grace-
fulness was the most conspicuous. And to him may be applied
what Paiisanias tells us was to Apelles: " That such and such
" a master surpassed in some particulars of the art, but in
" gracefulness he was superior to them all." It is endless to re-
count the celebrated pieces of this great man, which might
have been more numerous, had he been as intent upon acquir-
ing riches as fame. He executed nothing slightly, often chang-
ed his design, and almost alwa3^s for the better: and therefore
his pictures were long in hand. It had been objected by some
critics that his works, from about the 70th year of his age,
were faintly and languidly colored. But he knew by experi-
ence that shadows gain strength, and grow deeper by time ;
and he lived long enough to see his pieces confute their error.

136 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

He made several admirable portraits of popes, cardinals, ana
other people of distinction ; from whom he received high
testimonies of esteem ; as he likewise did from almost all
the monarchs and princes of Europe, in his time. In his ear-
lier days, for subsistence, he etched a few prints, of his own
invention and after "others, with erjiial spirit and correctness.
He was appointed keeper of the paintings in the Pope's Clnu
pel, and the Vatican, by Innocent XI. confirmed therein by
his successors, and received the additional honor of knight-
hood from the pope. He erected two noble njonuments for
Eaftidle and Hannibal, at his own expence, in the Pantheon.
How well he maiiitaincd the dignity of his profession appears
by his answer to a Roman prince, who taxed him with the
excessive price of his pictures. He told him there was a vast
debt due from the world to the famous artists his predecssors,
and that he, as their rightful successor, was come to claim
the arrear. His abilities in painting were accompanied with
a o-reat many Christian and moral virtues, particularly with
an extensive charity, which crowned all the rest. Died
A.D. ni3, aged SS.

His chief disciples were Nicolo Biretloni, who died long
before him, and Giuseppe C/iiai-i. The former carried color-
inf to a gtcat height, especially in his frescos, at the Alticri
palace. It is said indeed his master was his constant coadju-
tor ; and his works have succeeded the better for it.

LucA GioDARNo, was born In 1632, at Naples, in the
neighbourhood of Joseph Ribcra, ( i. e. SpagnoleltoJ whose
works attracted him so powerfully, that he left his childish
amusements for the pleasure he foimd in looking on them. —
So manifest an inclination ior painting, determined his father,
a middling painter, to place him under that master, with
wliom he made sijch advances, that at seven years old his
])roductions were surprising. Hearing of those excellent
j>aintings that are at Venice and Piome, he quitted Naples in
private for Home. He attached himself to the manner of l^i-
flro da Corf.o7ia, v/hom he assisted. His father, who had
been looking for him, found him at work in 6V. Petcr''s. From
Rome they set out together to Bologna, Parma, and Venice.
At every place Liica made sketches and studies from the
works of all the great masters, but especially Paul Veronesey
whom he alwaws purposed fOr his model. It is said Giordano

had

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. J 37

had been so great a copier, that he had copied the rooms and
apartments of the Vatican a dozen times, and the battle of
Consiantine twenty. He also went to Florence, where he be-
oan afresh to study, copying the works of Leonardo da Vinciy
Michael ylngelo^ nnd Andrea ddSarto. He went b;ick to Rome,
Avhence, after a ver}' short stay, he returned to Naples, and
there miirricd against his father's inclinations, who appre-
hended such an engagement might lessen his attention to his
profession. After seeing the paintings at Rome and Venice,
Zzira quitted his master's manner, and formed to himself a
taste and manner, which partook somewhat of all the other ex-
cellent masters; whence Bel/ori calls him the ingenious bee,
who extracted his honey from the flowers of the best artists.
His reputation was soon so Avell established, that all public
works were entrusted to him, and he executed them with the
greatest facility and knowledge. Some of his pictures being
carried into Soain, so muc'i pleased Chai^les II. that he engag-
ed him to his court in 1692, to paint the Escurial, in which
lie acquitted himself as a great painter. The king and queen
often went to see him work, and commanded him to be cover-
ed in their presence. In the space of two years, he finished
the ten arched roofs and the stair-case of the Escurial. He
afterwards painted the gi-and saloon of Buen RetirOy the sa-
cristy of the great church of Toledo, the Chapel of the Lady
of Atocho, the ceiling of the. Royal Chapel at Madrid, and
other wprks. He was so engaged to his business, that he did
not even rest from it on holidays, for which being reproached
by a painter of his acquaintance, he answered, " If I were to
" let my pencils rest, they would grow rebellious, and I should
*' not be able to bring them to order without trampling on
" them." His lively humor and smart repartees amused the
whole court. The Queen of Spain, one day enquiring after
his family, wanted to know what sort of a woman his wife
was? Giordano painted her on the spot in a picture he was at
work upon, and shewed her to the Queen ; who was the more
surprised, as she had not perceived what he was about, and
was so pleased, that she took off her necklace, and desired
him to present it to his wife in her name. He had so happy
a memory, that he recollected the manners of all the great
masters, and had the art of imitating them so well, as to oc-
casion frequent mistakes. The King shewed him a picture
Vol. IV. Spart 2. ef

158 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

of BassanOf expressing his concern that he had not a compa-
nion : Giordano painted one for him so exactly in Bassano's
manner, that it was taken for a picture of that master.

The great works Giordano had executed in Spain, gave
him still greater reputation when he returned to Naples, so
that he could not supply the eagerness of the citizens, though
he worked so quick, 'i he Jesuits, who had bespoken a pic-
ture of St. Francis Xavier, complaining to the Viceroy that
he would not finish it, and that it ought to be placed on the
altar of that saint on his festival, which was just at hand; find-
ing himself pressed on ail sides, he painted this piece in a day
and a half. Oftentimes he painted a V^irgin holding a Jesus,
and, without any rest, in an hour, would finish a half-length;
and for dispatch, not waiting the cleaning of his pencils,
would lay on his colours with his finger. His manner had
great lightness and harmony : he understood fore-shortening,
but as he trusted to the great practice of his hand, he often
exposed to the public pictures that were very indifferent,
and very little studied, in which he appears also to have been
incorrect, and little acquainted with anatomy. Nobody ever
painted so much as Giordano, not even Tintoret ; his school
grew into such repute, that there was a great resort to it
from Rome and all quarters; he loved his disciples, whose
works lie touched with great readiness, and assisted them
with his designs, which he gave them with pleasure. His ge-
nerosity prompted him to make presents of altar-pjeces to
churches that were not able to purchase them. He painted,
gratis, the cupola of St. Bridget for his reputation, and touch-
ed it over a second time. By a particular dexterity of ma-
nagement, that roof, which is rather flat, seems much elevated,
by the lightness of the clouds whicii terminate the perspective.
Two Neapolitans, having sat for their pictures, neglected
to send for them when they were finished. Giordano. liavin<r
waited a great while without hearing from them, painted an
ox's head on one, and a Jew's cap on the other, and exposed
them in that manner: on the news whereof they brought him
the money, begging him to efface the ridiculous additions.
Though his humor was gay, he always spoke well ol'his bro-
ther painters, and received any hints that were given him
with great candor and docility. The commerce he had with

several

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 1S9

several men of learning was of great use to him: they furnished
him with elevated thoughts, reformed his own, and instructed
him in history and fable, which he had never read. His la-
bors Mere rewarded with great riches, which he left to his
family, who lost him at Naples in 1705, when lie was 73.
His monument is in the church of St. Bridfjet, before the
chapel of St. Nicolas cle Ban, which is all of his hand.

Giro Ferri, a Roman, born A. D. 1628, a faithful imitator
of Peter Cortona, under whom he was bred : and to whom he
came so near in his ideas, his invention, and his manner of
painting, that he was chosen (preferably to Peter Testa, and
Romanelli, his fellow disciples) to finish those pictures, which
his master left imperfect at his death. He had an excellent
taste in architecture, and drew several designs for the public.
He made cartoons for some of the Mosaic-works in the Vati-
can : and having in a great many noble performances distin-
guished himself, b}^ the beauty and fertility of his genius, died
A. D. 1690, aged 62.

Christopher Wren, a learned and most illustrious Eng-
lish architect and mathematician, was descended from an an-
cient family of that name at Binchester, in the bishopric of
Durham. Christopher was born at Knoyle, October 20, 1 632 ;
and while veiy young, discovered a surprising turn for learn-
ing, especially for the mathematics. He was sent to Oxford,
and admitted a gentleman commoner at Wadham-college, at
about fourteen- years of age : and the advancement he made
there in mathematical knowledge, befoi'e he was sixteen, was
very extraordinary, and even astonishing.

August 1 657, he was chosen Professor of Astronomy inGre-
sham-college ; and his lectures, which were much frequented,
tended greatly to the promotion of real knowledge.

Among his other eminent accomplishments, he had gained
so considerable a skill in architecture, that he was sent for the
same year from Oxford, by order of Charles II. to assist Sir
John Denham, surveyor-general of his Majesty's works.

In 1663, he was chosen Fellow of the Royal Society; being
one of those who were first appointed by the Council, after
the grant of their Charter.

In 1665, he went to France, where he not only surveyed all
the buildings of note in Paris, and made excursions to other

S 2 places,

140 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

places, but took particular notice of what was most remark-
able in mechanics, and contracted acquaintance with all the
considerable virtuosi. Upon his return home, he was appoint-
ed architect, and one of the Commissioners for the reparation
of St. PauV?. Cathedral. Within a few days after the fire of
London, September 2, 1666, he drew a plan for a new city.
Upon the decease of Sir John Dtnham^ in March 1688, he
succeeded him as Surveyor-General of his Majesty's works.
The Theatre at Oxford will be a lasting monument of his great
abilities as an architect; which curious work was finished in
1669. In this structure the admirable contrivance of the flat
roof, being eighty feet over one way, and seventy the other,
without any arched work or pillars to support it, is particularly
remarkable. But the conflagration of the city of London gave
him many opportunities afterwards of employing his genius
in that way; when, besides other works of the crown con-
tinued under his care, the Cathedral of St. Paid^ the parochial
Churches, and other public structures, which had been de-
stroyed by that dreadful calamity, were rebuilt from his de-
signs, and under his direction ; in the management of which
affair, he was assisted in the measurements, and laying out of
private property, by the ingenious Mr. Robert Ilookc.

About the year 1675, he married the daughter of Sir Thomas
Coghill, of Blechington, in Oxfordshire, by whom he had one
son of his own name; and she dying soon after, he married a
daughter of William Lord Fitz-Williayu, baron of LiflPord in
Ireland, by whom he had a son and a daughter. In 1680 he
was chosen President of the Royal Societv ; afterwards ap-
pointed Architect and Commissioner of Chelsea-college; and
in 1684, Principal Officer and Comptroller of the works in the
Castle of Windsor. He sat twice in Parliament, as a represen-
tative for two different boroughs; first, for Plympton in
Devonshire in 1685, and again in 1700 for Melcomb Regis in
Dorsetshire. He died Feb. 25, 1723, aged 91, and was in-
terred with great solemnity in St. Pow/'s Cathedral, in the vault
under the south wing of the choir, near the east end.

Among the many public buildings (50 or 60) erected by him
in the city of London, the Chiu'ch of St. Skphen in Walbroke,
that oi^t. Mary le Bow, the Monument, and the Cathedral of
St. Paid, have more especially drawn the attention of foreign

connoispseuvs

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 141

connoisseurs. The church of Walbroke, is famous all over
Europe, and is justly reputed his master piece. Perhaps Italy
itself can produce no modern building that can vie with this in
taste or proportion : and foreigners justly call our judgment in
question, for understanding its graces no better. The steeple
of St. Mary le Bow, is particularly grand and beautiful. The
Monument is a pillar of the Doric oruer ; the pedestal is 40 feet
high, the diameter of the column 15 feet, and the i^ititude of
the whole 202 ; it was begun m 1671, and finished m 1677.
Of St, PaiiCs Church, the first stone was laid the 21st of June
1675 ; the body finished, and the cross set up, in 1711.

John Rilev, born in London, A. D. 1 646, Avas instructed in
the first rudiments of painting by Mr. SoziiifandMr. /^i<//fr;, but
left them while he was very young, and began to practise after
the life: yet acquired no great reputation, till after the death
of Sir Peter Lely, whom he succeeded in the favor of King
Charles II. Upon the accession of King William and Queen
Mary to the crown, he was sworn their principal painter; which
place he had not enjoyed in the preceding reign, though King
James, and his Queen, were both pleased to be drawn by his
hand. He was very diligent in the imitation of nature ; and by
studying the life, rather than following any particular manner,
arrived to a pleasing and most agreeable style of painting. His
peculiar excellence was a head, especially the coloring part,
He was a gentleman extremely courteous in his behavior, en-
gaging in his conversation, and prudent in his actions. He was
a dutiful son, an affectionate brother, a kind master, and a
faithful friend. He never was guilty of a piece of vanity (too
common among artists) of saying mighty things on his own be-
half; but contented himself with letting his works speak for
him; he died of the gout, A. D. 1691, aged 45.

Francis le Moine, an excellent French painter, was born
at Paris in 1688, and trained up under Ga//oc^(?, Professor of the
Academy of Painting, of which he himself became afterwards
Professor. Le Moine painted the grand saloon, Avhich is at the
entrance into the apartments of Versailles, and represents the
apotheosis oi Hercules. He was four years about it ; and the
King, to shew how well pleased he was with it, made him his
first painter in 1736, and some time after added a pension of
3000 livres to the 600 he had before, A fit of lunacy seized

this

142 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

this painter the year after, during which he run himself
through with his sword, and died, June 4, 1737, aged 49.

William Hogarth was born in 1697, or 1698, in the
parish of St. Martin Ludgate. '' He was be)und," says Mr.
Walpole^ " to a mean engraver of arms on plate." Probably
choosing this occupation, as it required some skill in drawing,
which he contrived assiduously to cultivate.

During his apprenticeship, he set out one Sunday, with tv/o
or three companions, on an excursion to Highgate. Tlie
weather being hot, they vi'ent into a public-house, where they
had not been long, before a quarrel arose between some per-
sons in the same room. One of the disputants struck the other
on the head with a quart pot, and cut him very much. The
blood running down the man's face, together with the agony
of the wound, which had distorted his features into a hideous
grin, presented Hogarth, who shewed himself thus early " ap-
prised of the mode nature had intended he should pursue,"
with too laughable a subject to be overlooked. He drew out
his pencil and produced on the spot one of the most ludicrous
figures that ever was seen : being an exact likeness of the man,
his antagonist, and the principal persons gathered round him.
It is presumed that he began business, on his own account,
at least as early as 1720. His first employment seems to have
been the engraving of arms and shop-bills. The next step was
to design and furnish plates for booksellers.

It was Mr, Hogarth's custom to sketch out on the spot any
remarkable face which particularly struck him: being once at
the Bedford coffee-house, he was observed to draw somethinjr
with a pencil on his nail, which proved to be the countenance
(a whimsical one) of a person who was then at a small distance.
While Hogarth was painting the " Rake's Progress," he
had a summer residence at Isleworth ; and never failed to
question the company who came to see these pictures, if they
knew for whom one or another figure was designed. When
they guessed wrong, lie set them right,

In 1730, Mr. Hogarth married the only daughter of Sir
James Thornhill, by whom he had no child. This union, in-
deed, was a stolen one, and consequently without the approba-
tion of Sir James, who, considering the youth of liis daughter,
then barely 18, and the slender finances of her husband, as yet

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 14$

an obscure artist, was not easily reconciled to the match.
Soon after this period, however, he began his " Harlot's Pro-
gress" (the coffin in the last plate is inscribed Sept. 2, ITSl) ;
and was advised by Lady Thornhill to have some of the scenes
in it placed in the way of his father-in-law. Accordingly, one
morning, Mrs. Hogarth conveyed several of them into his din-
ing-room. AVhen he arose, he enquired from whence they came,
and being told by whom they were introduced, lie cried out,
" Very well ; the man who can furnish representations like
*' these, can also maintain a wife without a portion." He de-
signed this remark as an excuse for keeping his purse-strings
close; but soon after, became reconciled and generous to the
young people

Soon after his marriage, Hogarth had summer lodgings at
South Lambeth ; and being intimate with Mr. Tyei^s^ contri-
buted to the improvement of the Spring -Gardens at Vauxhall,
by the hintof embellishing them with paintings, some of which
were the suggestions of his own truly comic pencil. For his
assistance, Mr. Tyers gratefully presented him with a gold
ticket of admission for himself and his friends, inscribed

IN PERPETUAM BENEFICII MEMORIAM.

In 1733, his genius became conspicuously known. The third
scene of his " Harlot's Progress" introduced him to the notice
of the great. At a Board of Treasury which was held a day
or two after the appearance of that print, a copy of it was
shewn by one of the Lords, as containing, among other excel-
lencies, a striking likeness of Sir John Gonson. It gave uni-
versal satisfaction, from theTreasury eachLord repaired to the
print-shop for a cop}- of it, and Hogarth rose completely into
fame.

In this work he launches out his young adventurer a simple
girl upon the town, and conducts her through all the vicissi-
tudes of wretchedness to a premature death. This was paint-
ing to the understanding and to the heart; none had ever be-
fore made the pencil subservient to the purposes of moralitxt
and instruction ; nor was the success of Hogarth confined to
his persons. One of his excellencies consisted in what may be
termed the furniture of his pieces; for as in sublime and his-
torical representations the fewer trivial circumstances are per-
mitted to divide the spectator's attention from the principal fi-
gures, the greater is their force j so in scenes copied from fa-
miliar

miliar life, a proper variety of little domestic images throw-<
a degree of verisimilitude on the whole. *' The Rake's levcc-
room," says Mr. fFalpole, "the nobleman's dining room, the
*' apartments of the husband and wife in Marriage a la Mode,
" the alderman's parlor, the bed-chamber, and many others,
**are the history of the manners of the age." The novelty and
excellence of his performances tempted the needy artist and
print-dealer to avail themselves of his designs, and rob him of
the advantages he was entitled to derive from them. This was
the case with the " Midnight Conversation," the " Harlot's"
and " Rake's Progresses," and others of his early works. To
put a stop to depredations like these on the property of himself
and others, and to secure the emoluments resulting from his
own labors, he applied to the legislature, and obtained an act
of parliament, S George II. chap. 38, to vest an exclusive right
in designers and engravers, and to restrain the multiplying of
copies of their works without the consent of the ^.rtist.

In 1745, Hogarth sold about 20 of his pictures by auction ;
and in the same year acquired additional reputation by the
six prints of " Marriage a la Mode."

Ilogarlh had projected a '* Happy Marriage," by way
of counterpart to his *' Marriage a la Mode;" but never
finished it. After the peace of Aix la Chapelie, he went to
France, and was taken into custody at Calais, while drawing
the gate of that town : a circumstance he has recorded in his
picture, intituled, *' O the Roast Beef of Old England !" pub-
lished March 26, 1749. He was carried before the Governor
as a spy, and committed a prisoner to Gransire, his landlord,
on his promising that Hogarth should not gq out of his house
till he was to embark for England.

In 1753, he published " The Analysis of Beauty, written
to fix the fluctuating ideas of taste." In this performance he
shews, that a curve is the line of beauty, and that round
swelling figures are most pleasing to the eye ; his opinion has
been countenanced by subsequent writers.

About 1757, his brother-in-law, Mr. Thoruhilly resigned
the place of King's serjeant painter in favor of Mr. Hogarth.

The last memorable event in our artist's life, was his quarrel
personal and political with Messrs. W^il/iesiind Churchill ; but,
at the time these hostilities were carrying on in a manner oo vi-
rulent and di.sgraceful to all the parties, //(r^^arZ/nvas visibly de-
clining

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 145

ciiiiing in his health. In 1762, he complained of an inward
pain,whichcontinuingbrou£jhton ageneral decay that proved
incurable. This last year of his life heemploj^ed in retouch-
ing his plates, with the assistance of several engravers whom
he took with him to Chiswick. Oct. 25, 1 764, he was convey-
ed from thence to Leicester-fields, in a very weak condition,
3'et remarkably chearful ; and receiving an agreeable letter
from the American Dr. Franklin, drew up a rough draught of
an answer to it; but going to bed, he was seized with a vomit-
ing,upon which he rang hisbell w ith such violence that he broke
it, and expired about two hours after. He was interred in the
church-yard, at Chiswick, where a monument is erected to his
memory, with an inscription by his friend Mr. Garrick.

It may be truly observed of Hogarth^ that all his powers of
delighting were restrained to his pencil. Having rarely been
admitted into polite circles, none of his sharp corners had been
rubbed off, so that he continued to tlie last a gross uncultivat-
ed man. The slightest contradiction transported him into a
rage. He is said to have beheld the rising enunence and po-
pularity of Sir Joshua Reynolds ^\ith a degree of envy ; and,
if we are not misinformed, frequently spoke with asperity
both of him and his performances. Justice, however, obliges
us to add, that our artist was liberal, hospitable, and the most
punctual of pa3^masters ; so that, in spite of the emoluments
his works had procured him, he left but an inconsiderable
fortune to his widow.

Hogarth made one essay in sculpture. He wanted a sign to
distinguish his house in Leicester- fields; and thinking none
more proper than the Golden Head, out of a mass of cork,
made up of several thicknesses c ^mpucted together, he carv-
ed a bust of Vandyke, which he giJt and placed over his door.

There are three large pictures by Hogarth, over the altar
\n the church of St. Mary Redchff at Bristol.

HpNRY Francis Bourguignon Gravelot, Engraver,
of Paris, after residing some time at St. Domingo, came
to London and exercised his talents, both as engraver and
designer, during thirteen years. The number of pieces
which he executed is very great : they exhibitequal industry,
genius, and manual facility. Having accumulated consi-
derable property he returned to his native country, where
he died in 1773, aged 74.

Vol. IV. , T. part 2 John

146 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

John Hamilton Mortimer, History Painter, descended
from Mortimer, Earl of March, was born at East Bourne, in
Sussex, in 1739. He possessed a genius of uncommon viva-
city and brilliancy, with a rapidity and facility of execution
almost incredible. The present work is enriched with seve-
ral original designs by this Artist. He obtained the prize of
tlie Society for the Encouragement of Arts, by his picture of
P^^/ preaching to the Britons, now in Chipping \V3-combe
Church, Bucks. In 1779, he was, without his solicitation,
created Royal Academician by the King, but unfortunately
died before he could enjoy the honour, after an illness of
twelve days, 4th Feb. 1779.

Francis Vivares, Engraver, was born at St. John de
Bruel, a village of Rouergue. He came to London in 1727,
intending to foUoAv the occupation of his uncle, a master tai-
lor, but his love for the arts prevailing, he studied under
uimiconi, an Italian painter, and acquired great reputation,
particularly in landscaj es. He remarkably excelled in the
freedom of his hand in etching. He was there married : by
ills first wife he had sixteen children, and by the last two,
fifteen. He died in 1780, aged 71.

William Woollett, Engraver, was a native of Maid-
stone ; he studied under Tiviney; his masterpiece is the cele-
brated print of the death of General Wolfe. He introduced
that bold and determined style of engraving, especially in
the etching of his pieces, which now constitutes the chai'ac-
teristic of the English school. The late Mr. Boydell was his
patron and employer, and derived great emolument from
the popularity of his productions : his liberality to the Artist
evinced his sense of his merits. Mr. W. died in 1783 aged 48,

Sir Joshua Reynolds was born at PlymptoTi in Devon-
shire, July 16, 1723 : his father kept a school there, and had a
numerous family; but being sensible of his son Joshua'?, genius
for literature and drawing, he sent him to the imiversity,
designing him for the church. Soon after he grew fond of
painting; and chose it as a profession, after reading Richard-
son^^ Theory of Painting. About 1742, he became a pupil
of Mr. Hudson: and about 1749 went to Italy, in company
Avith, and under the patronage of. Commodore (afterwards
l.ord) Keppcl. He returned in 1752 to England : and by means
of Commodore Keppel, and Lord Edgccumbe, he a\ as soon in-
troduced

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. 147

tiodnced into the best line of portrait painting : wherein he
became the most popular painter in Europe.

In 1764, he promoted the Literary^ Chib, of which many
eminent men were members ; being honored by the friend-
ship of most of the literati of England.

He was long a distinguished exhibitor in the Ro^'al Society
of Artists: but in 1769, wlieii the present Royal Academy
was founded, Mr. Reynolds was appointed President ; and
was knighted. His first discourse from the chair was deliver-
ed on the opening, January 2, 1769. He also delivered a dis-
course annually on the distribution of the prizes to the stu-
dents : his last was December 10, 1790. These have been
published. About 1770, Sir Joshua proposed the oitnament-
ing of St. PaiW'a with pictures, by himself and others ; but
the Bishop of London declined it.

In 1782, he enriched Mr. Masoii's translation of Fresnoy
with very valuable notes. In 1785, Sir Joshua visited Flan-
ders, and there purchased, at a great sale, many pictures
taken from religious houses, &c. by the Emperor Joseph II.

In 1790, after a contest among the Academicians, he resign-
ed his chair as President ; but was persuaded by the mnjority
to resume it, after a little time, and some explanation ; but
finding his eye-sight fail him, he again resigned, Nov. 15,
1791. Nevertheless the Academy rather chose as more re-
spectful, that he should appoint a Deputy, than that he should
totally withdraw. He died Feb. 23, 1792, and was buried in
no little state in St. PauFs church, the whole Academy, and
many private persons attending the procession.

As a portrait painter, Sir Joshua will always rank high in
respect of taste, genius and freedom : but his pictures will
not so well inform posterity of his merit, as the prints en-
graved after them : as a history -painter (in which branch he
practised towards the close of his life) he shewed he ^vas ca-
pable of great things ; and he has made us regret that his
performances aie so few. He Avas friendly and encouraging
to young Artists ; and if report say true, his benevolence was
known by most of the profession. His character and abilities
rendered his loss considerable, not onlv to the circle of his
friends, but to the nation, and to the Arts.

Sir Robert Strange, Engraver, was born at Pomonaj
in the Orkneys, 14th July, 1721. He first studied the law :

T2 but

148 . A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

but his genius pointing out a different road to eminence, he
was placed under Mr. R. Cooper^ of Edinburgh. He joined
the Pretender's forces, and after the ruin of his affairs, he
wandered for some time a fugitive in the Highlands, and at
Jast, not without considerable apprehensions, he returned to
Edinburgh, and afterwards went to London, in his intended
progress to Home. At Paris, he studied under Lt Bas. In
njl he settled in London, and became highly distirjguish-
ed as a historical Engraver. In 1760, he visited Italv,
where he was received w ith marked respect, and was elected
member of the learned Schools of Rome, Florence, Bo-
logna, and made Professor of the Roj-al Academy of Parma,
and member of the Royal Academ}' of Paintings at Paris.
He was knighted in 1787, and died of an asthma 5th July,
1792.

Joseph Wright, Landscape and Portrait Painter, usually
called Wright of Derby, of which place he was a native,
was a pupil of Hudson. In 1773 he visited Italy, where he
passed two years. He resided chiefly at Derby, but spent
some time at Bath, as the air of London did not agree with him.
He died 1797, in his native town. He excelled in a most
particular degree, in all pieces in which striking effects of
fire light, or atmospheric phenomena were introduced. The
force and truth which distinguish his works, can onlybe appre-
ciated by inspection, and have placed him at the head of this
department of art.

John Bacon, Sculptor, was born in Southwark, 24th Nov,
1740. At fifteen, he was placed as apprentice to a China
Manufacturer, at Lambeth, in which station his genius and
skill were so eminently distinguished, that he obtained no
fewer than nine premiums from the Society for the Encou-
ragement of Arts. He introduced the art of modelling statues
of artificial stone. In 1769 he obtained the Gold Medal of
the Royal Society, and was admitted as Associate. He exe-
cuted njany public works of acknowledged merit. The ar-
ticle Sculpture, in Rees's Encyclopedia, was his produc-
tion. An inflammation in the bowels terminated his life, 4tlj
August, 1799. His piety was not less eminent than his pro-
fessional skill, as the Inscription on his tomb, dictated by him-
self, pvincies: to the name and date succeed the following
words ; — •

WHAT

MEMOIRS OF THE PRINCIPAL ARTISTS. Ii9

WHAT I WAS AS AN ARTIST

SEEMED TO ME OF SOME IMPORTANCE

WHILE I LIVED :

BUT

WHAT I REALLY WAS AS A BELIEVER

IN JESUS CHRIST
IS THE ONLY THING OF IMPORTANCE
TO ME NOW.
A vcr}- interesting Memoir of this Artist, with his Portrait.
Mas composed and published by his intimate friend, the Rev.
Ixichard Cecily Minister of St. JoJui's Chapel, Bedford-Row,
London.

George Morland, Painter, a native of London, learned
the rudiments of his art under his father, a second-rate Ar-
tist. His powers of genius were of the first order, and might
have raised him to the highest rank of his profession ; but
vicious habits, the most disgraceful dissipation, and an invin-
cible preference of the most degraded society, stified that
excellence in an early stage. In proportion as his abilities
expanded, as he rose in public estimation, his foibles acquired
force, and his wants, produced by an insane extravagance,
became urgent beyond his power of supply, altho' he could
design, compose, and execute a picture, of many guineas*
value, without quitting his easel: but his talents, Avhich might
have obtained celebrity and affluence, were seldom called
forth except to avert, or to extricate him from the impatience
of his creditors, the pillage of a spunging house, or the hor-
rors of a prison. It needs not to be Avondered at, that under
these circumstances, he produced no grand composition : his
pieces chiefly consist of scenes of rural interest : farms, ale-
houses, stables, husbandmen, huntsmen, woodcutters, shep-
herds, smugglers, fishermen, and animals, wild or domesticat-
ed, received from his pencil all that captivating power of
correct imitation which the force of truth and nature could
impart; and what will alwa3-s please the million, whatever
observations the connoiseur with his scientific rules, may op-
pose to the opinion of the general. After an ample share of
those vicissitudes which talents so exalted, and morals so de-
j)raved, must necessarily produce, hediedina spunging-house
from excess of intoxication, in 1804, aged 40. A very great
number of his pieces have been engraved.

James

150 A CONCISE HISTORY OF ART.

James Barry, Painter, was a native of Cork, in Ireland ;
his talents first recommended him to the patronage of the
Dublin Society for the Encouragement of Arts. The friend-
ship of his countryman and patron Burke, introduced liim to
Johnson, to Sir Joshua Reynolds, and other men of note, and
also enabled him to visit Italy. In 1772, he published a reply
to Winkelmany in which he combated the opinions of that au-
thor relative to the obstructions which opposed the introduc-
tion of the Arts into England. In 1777 he was elected Royal
Academician ; in 1786, he was appointed Professor of Paint-
ing to the Royal Academy. In 1799 he was removed from
that office, and soon after was expelled from that Society.
Some have attributed this to his republican principles; others,
to his repulsive and almost disgusting manners. He Avas at-
tacked by a paralytic stroke, which terminated fatally in ten
days. Died Mar. 22, 1806. He was buried in St. Paa/Z's Cathe.
dral, with every token of respect from some members of that
Society of Avhich he had been a member. The most remark-
able exertion of his c^enius and talents consists of a series of
historical paintings in the great room of the Society for the
Encouragement of Arts, in the Adelphi, Avhich he painted
gratis.

George Stubbs, Painter, a native of Liverpool, was parti-
cularly excellent in his delineation of animals. He was em-
ployed by Noblemen and Gentlemen to paint their favourite
racers, hunters, &c. He practised Encaustic painting. In
1766 he published a valuable work on the Anatomy of the
Horse, including a description of the bones, cartilages, &c.
He also undertook another laborious work, a Comparative
Anatomical exposition of the Structure of the Human Body,
with that of a Tiger, and common Fowl, in 30 Tables, of
wJiich, however, he published only three Parts before his
death, which took place in London, at the age of 82, on the
10th July, 1806.

ALPHABETICAL INDEX OF MODERN MASTERS.

AlBANI ... 95
Albert! (Clierubino) 81
Albert! (Leon Baptista) 40
Arpino (Gioieppe da) 86

Alipius 33

Antonello tia Mcisiiia 40

Bacon 148

Badalocchi (Sislo) . 99
Bancliiielli (Baccio) . 56
Bamboccio . . • . lO'Z
Barocci (Fredericc) . 17

Barry 150

Eartolomeo (Fra.) . 47
Bassano (Giacomo) . 71
Bassano (Francesco) . 72
Bassano (Gio. Battista) 72
Bassano (Girolamo) . 72
Bassano (Leandro) . 72
Battaglie (M. Angelo) I] I
Bclliiio (Gentile) . . 41
Belliiio (Giovanni) . 41
Berellini (Pietro) . .106

Bernini 107

Bordone (Paris) . . 73
Borgognone . . .115
Bourdon (Sebastian) 131
Bramanle . . . . 4J
Brandi (Giacinto) . 134
Brueghel .... 89
Bril (Matthew) . . 80
Bril (Paul) ... 80
Brouwer . . . .120
Brun (Charles le) .131
BTunclleschi ... 40
Buftalniaco .... 40
Buonarruoti (M. Ange!o)49
Callari (Paolo) . . 78
Caiiari (Benedetto) . 78
Caliari (Carlo) . . 78
Caliari (Gabrielli) . 78
Campidoglio (M.Ang.)124
Carpi (Ugo da) , . 124
Carraci (Lodovico) . 82
Carraci (Annibale) . 82
Carraci (Agostino) . 82
Carraci (Antonio) . 82
Carrax'aggio(M.Angelo)88
Castiglione (Benedetto) 109

Cellini 67

Champagne . . .113
Cimabue .... 34
Ciro Ferri . . . .139
Clovio Julio ... 64
Claude Gille (Lorain) 111
Cooper (Samuel) , 121
Correggio .... 53
Corsimo (Pietro di) . 43
Cortona (Pietro) . .106

Page.
Dobson 123

Donienichino ... 97
Doici (Carlo) . . .127

Dou 117

Durer (Albert) . . 47
Dughel (Caspar) . ,112
Elslieimer . . . . 91
Entinopos .... 33
Ercole Procaccini . . 85
Eyk (Johannes ab) . 40
Failhorne .... 130
Farinato (Paolo) . . 76
Ferri Ciro . . . .139
Fetti (Domenico) . 102
Francia (Raibolini) . 46
Franco (Batlisla) . . 59
Fresnov (C. AIphonse)124
Gaddi"(Gaddo) . . 37
Gaddi (Taddeo) . . 37
Gaspar Poussin . .112
Gentileschi (Oratio) . 94
Gentileschi (Artemisia) 95
Ghirlandaio (Domenico) 46
Giorgione .... 51
Giordano (Luca) . .136
Gioseppino ... 86
Giottino (Tomaso) . 39

Giotto 35

Goltzius .... 86
Gravelot , . . .145
Greenhill (John) . . 130
Guercino da Cento . 103
Guido Reni ... 91
Hans Holbein ... 65
Billiard .... 87
Hogarth . . . .142
John of Bruges . . 40
Isiodorus .... 33
Jordaens . . . .110
Jouvenet (John) . .126
Lanfranco .... 98
Lauro (Filippo) . .134
Leiy (Sir Peter) . .128
Ligorio Pirro . . ,71
Lucas Van Leyden , 60
Mantegna (Andrea) . 42
Maratti (Carlo) . .135
Margaritone ... 37
Masaccio .... 41
Matthew Bril ... 80
Matsys Quinlin . . 60
Maturino .... 61
Metrodorus ... 33
Memmi (Simone) . 37

Mien's 117

Mignard . . . .133
Moine (Francis le) . l4l
MoIb (Francesco) ^ 120

Por(P.

Mola (Gio. Baltista) . 121
More (Antonio) . , 73
Morland . . . .149
Mortimer . . . .149
NapoUiano (Filippo) £9
Nicolo del Abbate . 20
Nicolo Poussin . . 104

Nuzzi Ill

Oliver 87

Oslade 122

Palladio .... 75
Palma (Vecchio) . 70
Palma (Giovanc) . 79
Parmegiano ... 69

Petitot 117

Perugino (Pietro) . 46
Piombo (Sebastian de!) 56
Poelenburgh . . .103
Polidoro (Caravagio de) 6(»
Pordenone .... 55
Primaliccio ... 63
Procaccini (Ercole) . 85
Procaccini (Camillo) 85
Procaccini (Giul.Ccsare)85
Procaccini (C. Anionio)85
Provencale , . . . 9iS

Pughel 134

Puntornio (Giacomo) 58
Poussin (Nicolo) . .1041
Poussin (Gaspar). . 112
Reynolds (Sir Joshua) 146
Rafaelle da Urbino . 54
Rembrandt . . .115
Reni (Guido) ... 91
Ricciarelli (Daniele) 22
Riley (John) ... 141
Romanelli .... 126
Romano (Julio) . . 57

Rosso 62

Rottenhamer ... 87

Rubens 93

Rosa (Salvator) . . 127
Sacchi (Andrea) , .113
Salviati (Francesco) . 70
Salviati (Gioseppe) . 79
Sarto (Andrea del) . 54
Schalcken . . . .117
Schiavone (Andrea) 76
Sebastian Bourdon . 22
Sebastiano del Piombo 22
Signorelli (Luca) . 43
Snyders .... 97
Spagnoletto (Ribera) 98
Sprangher .... 80

Strange 147

Stubbs 150

Sueur (Eustache le) . 129
Taffi (Andrea) . , 37

Page.
Tempesta (Antonio) 81

Teniers 101

Testa (Pietro) . .124
Tintorelta (Marietta) 73
Tintorello (Giacomo) 72
Tintoretto (Donunica) 73
Titiano (Vecelli) . 52
Van Dvck . . . .107
Vaga (Pierino d.O) . 68
Vanni (Fiautesco) . 87

Vasari (Giorgio) . .
Udine (Giinannide)
Vicellio (Francesco).
Vicellio (Ora fo) . .
Veronese (Paolo)
Verroccliio (Andrea)
Vinci (Lednarilo da)

Viola 92

Vivares . . . , J 4G
Vi\iano .... 110

Pa$e,

. 74
Si
22
52
78
42
43

Voltfrra (Danicle tia) 7p
Vouet (Simon) . . 10(»
VVykel.ain .... 38
VVoolleit , . . .146
VVonvprmans . . . I3J
Wren (Sir Christopher) 139

Wri.ul.t 148

Zampieri (Domenico) ' 22
Zucchero (Taddeo) . 77
Zucchero (Frederiro) 79

DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER.

VOLUME I.

Of tliis work contains the First Series of Lectures, with Plates of the Human Fi-
gure, &c.

The Series of Plates is given at the close of the Volume, pages 274, 275, 276.

The Plates may ciilier be placed all togelher at the end of the Volume, or at the ead of
each Lecture, as marked.

VOLUME ir.

Consists ofihe Lectures on Perspfctive and Architecture.

The list of Plates to Perspective, with their pages, is given willi the title-page 3.

The list of Plates to Architecture, wiiii their pages, is given with the list of Plates

to Perspective.
N. B. This is the Second Volume, notwithstanding the signature-mark, in some

Copies, is Vol. in.

VOLUME in.
Comprises (he Lectures on Landscape, and the CoMPENniUM of Colours.
The Series of Plates to the Lectures on Landscape are given at the end of that article,

page 128. Observe, Plates I. to X. are 4lo. or double Plates,
The Plates to the Compendium of Colours are Frontispieces only.

VOLUME IV.

Includes the Dictionary of Terms of Art, and the History of Art.

The Plates to the Dici ionary are given at theend, on page 193, and may be plac-
ed at the end, or as marked on Ihc PUtes.

The Plates to the History are given at the end, pages 123 to 152, and must tx-
placed to their pages.

List cf Froidispirrs, ■with their places in this Jf'ork.

Origin of Design, Frontispiece to Vol. I. — (See vol. iv. p. 194. after Ihe Dic-
tionary.)
Architecture, Froiitispiecc to Vol. IL— (See vol. iv. p. 191. ibirl.^
CoLouRiN'G, Frontispiece to Vol. III. — (See vol. iv, p. 195. ihid. )
Briiannia rewarding the Arts, Frontispiece to Vol. IV. — (Sec vol. iv. p.
19-i. ibid. J

The Titnaining Emblematical Subjects.
Preparation OF Colours, . . to face pa^e 1 fComp. of Colours/ \oUllt

Instructions in the use ofColours, 83 ib.

Sculpture, 206 ib.

In Volume W, After the Dictionary.

Peace,
Plenty, .
War,. .

Hope,

Encovracement,

Pafie

197

198

ib.

199

NT,

ib.

Tasting,
Hearing,
Smelling,
Seeing, .
Feeling,

ib.

200

ib.

tb.

it.

Morning, .

ih.

Noon, . .

201

Evening,

ib.

Night, . .

209

Justice,

lb.

END OF VOL. IV.

Date Due -i

■II

.; '^.

I .

Jl jtA-

h^^- ,^

|f'<H*-«srS*#'

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