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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0517099 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61317 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61317) diff --git a/old/61317-0.txt b/old/61317-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 670b917..0000000 --- a/old/61317-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,5538 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Reflections on the painting and sculpture -of the Greeks:, by Johann Joachim Winckelmann - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Reflections on the painting and sculpture of the Greeks: - with instructions for the connoisseur, and an essay on - grace in works of art - -Author: Johann Joachim Winckelmann - -Translator: Henry Fusseli - -Release Date: February 4, 2020 [EBook #61317] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAINTING, SCULPTURE OF THE GREEKS *** - - - - -Produced by Turgut Dincer and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - -REFLECTIONS ON THE PAINTING AND SCULPTURE OF THE _GREEKS_. - - - - - REFLECTIONS - ON THE - PAINTING and SCULPTURE - OF - THE GREEKS: - WITH - INSTRUCTIONS for the CONNOISSEUR, - AND - An ESSAY on GRACE in Works of Art. - - Translated from - The _German_ Original of the Abbé WINKELMANN, - Librarian of the VATICAN, F. R. S. &c. &c. - - By HENRY FUSSELI, A.M. - - [Illustration] - - LONDON: - Printed for the TRANSLATOR, and Sold by A. MILLAR, - in the Strand, 1765. - - - - -TO - -The Lord SCARSDALE. - - -MY LORD, - -With becoming gratitude for your Lordship’s condescension in granting -such a noble Asylum to a Stranger, I humbly presume to shelter this -Translation under your Lordship’s Patronage. - -If I have been able to do justice to my Author, your Lordship’s accurate -Jugment, and fine Taste, will naturally protect his Work: But I must -rely wholly on your known Candour and Goodness for the pardon of many -imperfections in the language. - -I am, with the most profound respect, - - MY LORD, - - Your LORDSHIP’S - - Most obliged, most obedient, and most humble Servant, - - Henry Fusseli. - - LONDON, - 10 April, 1765. - - - - -[Illustration: GRAIIS INGENIUM &c.] - - - - - ON THE - IMITATION - OF THE - PAINTING and SCULPTURE of the GREEKS. - - -I. NATURE. - -To the Greek climate we owe the production of TASTE, and from thence -it spread at length over all the politer world. Every invention, -communicated by foreigners to that nation, was but the feed of what it -became afterwards, changing both its nature and size in a country, -chosen, as _Plato_[1] says, by Minerva, to be inhabited by the Greeks, as -productive of every kind of genius. - -But this TASTE was not only original among the Greeks, but seemed also -quite peculiar to their country: it seldom went abroad without loss; and -was long ere it imparted its kind influences to more distant climes. -It was, doubtless, a stranger to the northern zones, when Painting and -Sculpture, those offsprings of Greece, were despised there to such a -degree, that the most valuable pieces of _Corregio_ served only for -blinds to the windows of the royal stables at Stockholm. - -There is but one way for the moderns to become great, and perhaps -unequalled; I mean, by imitating the antients. And what we are told of -_Homer_, that whoever understands him well, admires him, we find no less -true in matters concerning the antient, especially the Greek arts. But -then we must be as familiar with them as with a friend, to find Laocoon -as inimitable as _Homer_. By such intimacy our judgment will be that -of _Nicomachus_: _Take these eyes_, replied he to some paltry critick, -censuring the Helen of Zeuxis, _Take my eyes, and she will appear a -goddess_. - -With such eyes _Michael Angelo_, _Raphael_, and _Poussin_, considered -the performances of the antients. They imbibed taste at its source; and -Raphael particularly in its native country. We know, that he sent young -artists to Greece, to copy there, for his use, the remains of antiquity. - -An antient Roman statue, compared to a Greek one, will generally appear -like _Virgil_’s Diana amidst her Oreads, in comparison of the Nausicaa of -_Homer_, whom he imitated. - -Laocoon was the standard of the Roman artists, as well as ours; and the -rules of _Polycletus_ became the rules of art. - -I need not put the reader in mind of the negligences to be met with in -the most celebrated antient performances: the Dolphin at the feet of -the Medicean Venus, with the children, and the Parerga of the Diomedes -by _Dioscorides_, being commonly known. The reverse of the best Egyptian -and Syrian coins seldom equals the head, in point of workmanship. Great -artists are wisely negligent, and even their errors instruct. Behold -their works as _Lucian_ bids you behold the Zeus of _Phidias_; _Zeus -himself, not his footstool_. - -It is not only _Nature_ which the votaries of the Greeks find in their -works, but still more, something superior to nature; ideal beauties, -brain-born images, as _Proclus_ says[2]. - -The most beautiful body of ours would perhaps be as much inferior to the -most beautiful Greek one, as Iphicles was to his brother Hercules. The -forms of the Greeks, prepared to beauty, by the influence of the mildest -and purest sky, became perfectly elegant by their early exercises. Take -a Spartan youth, sprung from heroes, undistorted by swaddling-cloths; -whose bed, from his seventh year, was the earth, familiar with wrestling -and swimming from his infancy; and compare him with one of our young -Sybarits, and then decide which of the two would be deemed worthy, by -an artist, to serve for the model of a Theseus, an Achilles, or even a -Bacchus. The latter would produce a Theseus fed on roses, the former a -Theseus fed on flesh, to borrow the expression of _Euphranor_. - -The grand games were always a very strong incentive for every Greek youth -to exercise himself. Whoever aspired to the honours of these was obliged, -by the laws, to submit to a trial of ten months at Elis, the general -rendezvous; and there the first rewards were commonly won by youths, as -_Pindar_ tells us.[3]_To be like the God-like Diagoras_, was the fondest -wish of every youth. - -Behold the swift Indian outstripping in pursuit the hart: how briskly his -juices circulate! how flexible, how elastic his nerves and muscles! how -easy his whole frame! Thus _Homer_ draws his heroes, and his Achilles he -eminently marks for “being swift of foot.” - -By these exercises the bodies of the Greeks got the great and manly -Contour observed in their statues, without any bloated corpulency. The -young Spartans were bound to appear every tenth day naked before the -Ephori, who, when they perceived any inclinable to fatness, ordered them -a scantier diet; nay, it was one of _Pythagoras_’s precepts, to beware of -growing too corpulent; and, perhaps for the same reason, youths aspiring -to wrestling-games were, in the remoter ages of Greece, during their -trial, confined to a milk diet. - -They were particularly cautious in avoiding every deforming custom; and -_Alcibiades_, when a boy, refusing to learn to play on the flute, for -fear of its discomposing his features, was followed by all the youth of -Athens. - -In their dress they were professed followers of nature. No modern -stiffening habit, no squeezing stays hindered Nature from forming easy -beauty; the fair knew no anxiety about their attire, and from their loose -and short habits the Spartan girls got the epithet of Phænomirides. - -We know what pains they took to have handsome children, but want to be -acquainted with their methods: for certainly _Quillet_, in his Callipædy, -falls short of their numerous expedients. They even attempted changing -blue eyes to black ones, and games of beauty were exhibited at Elis, the -rewards consisting of arms consecrated to the temple of Minerva. How -could they miss of competent and learned judges, when, as _Aristotle_ -tells us, the Grecian youths were taught drawing expressly for that -purpose? From their fine complexion, which, though mingled with a vast -deal of foreign blood, is still preserved in most of the Greek islands, -and from the still enticing beauty of the fair sex, especially at Chios; -we may easily form an idea of the beauty of the former inhabitants, who -boasted of being Aborigines, nay, more antient than the moon. - -And are not there several modern nations, among whom beauty is too common -to give any title to pre-eminence? Such are unanimously accounted the -Georgians and the Kabardinski in the Crim. - -Those diseases which are destructive of beauty, were moreover unknown to -the Greeks. There is not the least hint of the small-pox, in the writings -of their physicians; and _Homer_, whose portraits are always so truly -drawn, mentions not one pitted face. Venereal plagues, and their daughter -the English malady, had not yet names. - -And must we not then, considering every advantage which nature bestows, -or art teaches, for forming, preserving, and improving beauty, enjoyed -and applied by the Grecians; must we not then confess, there is the -strongest probability that the beauty of their persons excelled all we -can have an idea of? - -Art claims liberty: in vain would nature produce her noblest offsprings, -in a country where rigid laws would choak her progressive growth, as -in Egypt, that pretended parent of sciences and arts: but in Greece, -where, from their earliest youth, the happy inhabitants were devoted to -mirth and pleasure, where narrow-spirited formality never restrained the -liberty of manners, the artist enjoyed nature without a veil. - -The Gymnasies, where, sheltered by public modesty, the youths exercised -themselves naked, were the schools of art. These the philosopher -frequented, as well as the artist. _Socrates_ for the instruction of a -Charmides, Autolycus, Lysis; _Phidias_ for the improvement of his art -by their beauty. Here he studied the elasticity of the muscles, the -ever varying motions of the frame, the outlines of fair forms, or the -Contour left by the young wrestler on the sand. Here beautiful nakedness -appeared with such a liveliness of expression, such truth and variety of -situations, such a noble air of the body, as it would be ridiculous to -look for in any hired model of our academies. - -Truth springs from the feelings of the heart. What shadow of it therefore -can the modern artist hope for, by relying upon a vile model, whose soul -is either too base to feel, or too stupid to express the passions, the -sentiment his object claims? unhappy he! if experience and fancy fail him. - -The beginning of many of _Plato_’s dialogues, supposed to have been held -in the Gymnasies, cannot raise our admiration of the generous souls -of the Athenian youth, without giving us, at the same time, a strong -presumption of a suitable nobleness in their outward carriage and bodily -exercises. - -The fairest youths danced undressed on the theatre; and _Sophocles_, the -great _Sophocles_, when young, was the first who dared to entertain his -fellow-citizens in this manner. _Phryne_ went to bathe at the Eleusinian -games, exposed to the eyes of all Greece, and rising from the water -became the model of Venus Anadyomene. During certain solemnities the -young Spartan maidens danced naked before the young men: strange this may -seem, but will appear more probable, when we consider that the christians -of the primitive church, both men and women, were dipped together in the -same font. - -Then every solemnity, every festival, afforded the artist opportunity to -familiarize himself with all the beauties of Nature. - -In the most happy times of their freedom, the humanity of the Greeks -abhorred bloody games, which even in the Ionick Asia had ceased long -before, if, as some guess, they had once been usual there. _Antiochus -Epiphanes_, by ordering shews of Roman gladiators, first presented them -with such unhappy victims; and custom and time, weakening the pangs of -sympathizing humanity, changed even these games into schools of art. -There _Ctesias_ studied his dying gladiator, in whom you might descry -“how much life was still left in him[4].” - -These frequent occasions of observing Nature, taught the Greeks to go on -still farther. They began to form certain general ideas of beauty, with -regard to the proportions of the inferiour parts, as well as of the whole -frame: these they raised above the reach of mortality, according to the -superiour model of some ideal nature. - -Thus _Raphael_ formed his Galatea, as we learn by his letter to Count -Baltazar Castiglione[5], where he says, “Beauty being so seldom found -among the fair, I avail myself of a certain ideal image.” - -According to those ideas, exalted above the pitch of material models, the -Greeks formed their gods and heroes: the profile of the brow and nose of -gods and goddesses is almost a streight line. The same they gave on their -coins to queens, &c. but without indulging their fancy too much. Perhaps -this profile was as peculiar to the antient Greeks, as flat noses and -little eyes to the Calmucks and Chinese; a supposition which receives -some strength from the large eyes of all the heads on Greek coins and -gems. - -From the same ideas the Romans formed their Empresses on their coins. -Livia and Agrippina have the profile of Artemisia and Cleopatra. - -We observe, nevertheless, that the Greek artists in general, submitted to -the law prescribed by the Thebans: “To do, under a penalty, their best in -imitating Nature.” For, where they could not possibly apply their easy -profile, without endangering the resemblance, they followed Nature, as we -see instanced in the beauteous head of Julia, the daughter of Titus, done -by _Euodus_[6]. - -But to form a “just resemblance, and, at the same time, a handsomer -one,” being always the chief rule they observed, and which _Polygnotus_ -constantly went by; they must, of necessity, be supposed to have had in -view a more beauteous and more perfect Nature. And when we are told, that -some artists imitated _Praxiteles_, who took his concubine _Cratina_ for -the model of his Cnidian Venus; or that others formed the graces from -_Lais_; it is to be understood that they did so, without neglecting these -great laws of the art. Sensual beauty furnished the painter with all that -nature could give; ideal beauty with the awful and sublime; from that he -took the _Humane_, from this the _Divine_. - -Let any one, sagacious enough to pierce into the depths of art, compare -the whole system of the Greek figures with that of the moderns, by which, -as they say, nature alone is imitated; good heaven! what a number of -neglected beauties will he not discover! - -For instance, in most of the modern figures, if the skin happens to be -any where pressed, you see there several little smart wrinkles: when, -on the contrary, the same parts, pressed in the same manner on Greek -statues, by their soft undulations, form at last but one noble pressure. -These master-pieces never shew us the skin forcibly stretched, but softly -embracing the firm flesh, which fills it up without any tumid expansion, -and harmoniously follows its direction. There the skin never, as on -modern bodies, appears in plaits distinct from the flesh. - -Modern works are likewise distinguished from the antient by parts; a -crowd of small touches and dimples too sensibly drawn. In antient works -you find these distributed with sparing sagacity, and, as relative to -a completer and more perfect Nature, offered but as hints, nay, often -perceived only by the learned. - -The probability still increases, that the bodies of the Greeks, as well -as the works of their artists, were framed with more unity of system, a -nobler harmony of parts, and a completeness of the whole, above our lean -tensions and hollow wrinkles. - -Probability, ’tis true, is all we can pretend to: but it deserves the -attention of our artists and connoisseurs the rather, as the veneration -professed for the antient monuments is commonly imputed to prejudice, and -not to their excellence; as if the numerous ages, during which they have -mouldered, were the only motive for bestowing on them exalted praises, -and setting them up for the standards of imitation. - -Such as would fain deny to the Greeks the advantages both of a more -perfect Nature and of ideal Beauties, boast of the famous _Bernini_, -as their great champion. He was of opinion, besides, that Nature was -possessed of every requisite beauty: the only skill being to discover -that. He boasted of having got rid of a prejudice concerning the Medicean -Venus, whose charms he at first thought peculiar ones; but, after many -careful researches, discovered them now and then in Nature[7]. - -He was taught then, by the Venus, to discover beauties in common Nature, -which he had formerly thought peculiar to that statue, and but for it, -never would have searched for them. Follows it not from thence, that the -beauties of the Greek statues being discovered with less difficulty than -those of Nature, are of course more affecting; not so diffused, but more -harmoniously united? and if this be true, the pointing out of Nature as -chiefly imitable, is leading us into a more tedious and bewildered road -to the knowledge of perfect beauty, than setting up the ancients for -that purpose: consequently _Bernini_, by adhering too strictly to Nature, -acted against his own principles, as well as obstructed the progress of -his disciples. - -The imitation of beauty is either reduced to a single object, and is -_individual_, or, gathering observations from single ones, _composes of -these one whole_. The former we call copying, drawing a portrait; ’tis -the straight way to Dutch forms and figures; whereas the other leads to -general beauty, and its ideal images, and is the way the Greeks took. But -there is still this difference between them and us: they enjoying daily -occasions of seeing beauty, (suppose even not superior to ours,) acquired -those ideal riches with less toil than we, confined as we are to a few -and often fruitless opportunities, ever can hope for. It would be no easy -matter, I fancy, for our nature, to produce a frame equal in beauty to -that of Antinous; and surely no idea can soar above the more than human -proportions of a deity, in the Apollo of the Vatican, which is a compound -of the united force of Nature, Genius, and Art. - -Their imitation discovering in the one every beauty diffused through -Nature, shewing in the other the pitch to which the most perfect Nature -can elevate herself, when soaring above the senses, will quicken the -genius of the artist, and shorten his discipleship: he will learn to -think and draw with confidence, seeing here the fixed limits of human and -divine beauty. - -Building on this ground, his hand and senses directed by the Greek rule -of beauty, the modern artist goes on the surest way to the imitation -of Nature. The ideas of unity and perfection, which he acquired in -meditating on antiquity, will help him to combine, and to ennoble the -more scattered and weaker beauties of our Nature. Thus he will improve -every beauty he discovers in it, and by comparing the beauties of nature -with the ideal, form rules for himself. - -Then, and not sooner, he, particularly the painter, may be allowed to -commit himself to Nature, especially in cases where his art is beyond the -instruction of the old marbles, to wit, in drapery; then, like _Poussin_, -he may proceed with more liberty; for “a timid follower will never get -the start of his leaders, and he who is at a loss to produce something -of his own, will be a bad manager of the productions of another,” as -_Michael Angelo_ says; Minds favoured by Nature, - - _Quibus Arte benigna,_ - _Et meliore luto, finxit præcordia Titan,_ - -have here a plain way to become originals. - -Thus the account _de Piles_ gives, ought to be understood, that -_Raphael_, a short time before he was carried off by death, intended -to forsake the marbles, in order to addict himself wholly to Nature. -True antient taste would most certainly have guided him through every -maze of common Nature; and whatever observations, whatever new ideas -he might have reaped from that, they would all, by a kind of chymical -transmutation, have been changed to his own essence and soul. - -He, perhaps, might have indulged more variety; enlarged his draperies; -improved his colours, his light and shadow: but none of these -improvements would have raised his pictures to that high esteem they -deserve, for that noble Contour, and that sublimity of thoughts, which he -acquired from the ancients. - -Nothing would more decisively prove the advantages to be got by imitating -the ancients, preferably to Nature, than an essay made with two youths -of equal talents, by devoting the one to antiquity, the other to Nature: -this would draw Nature as he finds her; if Italian, perhaps he might -paint like _Caravaggio_; if Flemish, and lucky, like _Jac. Jordans_; if -French, like _Stella_: the other would draw her as she directs, and paint -like _Raphael_. - - -II. CONTOUR. - -But even supposing that the imitation of Nature could supply all the -artist wants, she never could bestow the precision of Contour, that -characteristic distinction of the ancients. - -The noblest Contour unites or circumscribes every part of the most -perfect Nature, and the ideal beauties in the figures of the Greeks; -or rather, contains them both. _Euphranor_, famous after the epoch of -_Zeuxis_, is said to have first ennobled it. - -Many of the moderns have attempted to imitate this Contour, but very few -with success. The great _Rubens_ is far from having attained either its -precision or elegance, especially in the performances which he finished -before he went to Italy, and studied the antiques. - -The line by which Nature divides completeness from superfluity is but -a small one, and, insensible as it often is, has been crossed even by -the best moderns; while these, in shunning a meagre Contour, became -corpulent, those, in shunning that, grew lean. - -Among them all, only _Michael Angelo_, perhaps, may be said to have -attained the antique; but only in strong muscular figures, heroic frames; -not in those of tender youth; nor in female bodies, which, under his bold -hand, grew Amazons. - -The Greek artist, on the contrary, adjusted his Contour, in every -figure, to the breadth of a single hair, even in the nicest and most -tiresome performances, as gems. Consider the Diomedes and Perseus of -_Dioscorides_[8], Hercules and Iole by _Teucer_[9], and admire the -inimitable Greeks. - -_Parrhasius_, they say, was master of the correctest Contour. - -This Contour reigns in Greek figures, even when covered with drapery, as -the chief aim of the artist; the beautiful frame pierces the marble like -a transparent _Coan_ cloth. - -The high-stiled Agrippina, and the three vestals in the royal cabinet -at Dresden, deserve to be mentioned as eminent proofs of this. This -Agrippina seems not the mother of Nero, but an elder one, the spouse -of Germanicus. She much resembles another pretended Agrippina, in the -parlour of the library of St. Marc, at Venice[10]. Ours is a sitting -figure, above the size of Nature, her head inclined on her right hand; -her fine face speaks a soul “pining in thought,” absorbed in pensive -sorrow, and senseless to every outward impression. The artist, I suppose, -intended to draw his heroine in the mournful moment she received the -news of her banishment to Pandataria. - -The three vestals deserve our esteem from a double title: as being -the first important discoveries of Herculaneum, and models of the -sublimest drapery. All three, but particularly one above the natural -size, would, with regard to that, be worthy companions of the Farnesian -_Flora_, and all the other boasts of antiquity. The two others seem, -by their resemblance to each other, productions of the same hand, only -distinguished by their heads, which are not of equal goodness. On the -best the curled hairs, running in furrows from the forehead, are tied on -the neck: on the other the hair being smooth on the scalp, and curled on -the front, is gathered behind, and tied with a ribband: this head seems -of a modern hand, but a good one. - -There is no veil on these heads; but that makes not against their being -vestals: for the priestesses of Vesta (I speak on proof) were not always -veiled; or rather, as the drapery seems to betray, the veil, which was -of one piece with the garments, being thrown backwards, mingles with the -cloaths on the neck. - -’Tis to these three inimitable pieces that the world owes the first hints -of the ensuing discovery of the subterranean treasures of Herculaneum. - -Their discovery happened when the same ruins that overwhelmed the -town had nearly extinguished the unhappy remembrance of it: when the -tremendous fate that spoke its doom was only known by the account which -Pliny gives of his uncle’s death. - -These great master-pieces of the Greek art were transplanted, and -worshipped in Germany, long before Naples could boast of one single -Herculanean monument. - -They were discovered in the year 1706 at Portici near Naples, in a -ruinous vault, on occasion of digging the foundations of a villa, for -the Prince d’Elbeuf, and immediately, with other new discovered marble -and metal statues, came into the possession of Prince Eugene, and were -transported to Vienna. - -Eugene, who well knew their value, provided a Sala Terrena to be built -expressly for them, and a few others: and so highly were they esteemed, -that even on the first rumour of their sale, the academy and the artists -were in an uproar, and every body, when they were transported to Dresden, -followed them with heavy eyes. - -The famous _Matielli_, to whom - - _His rule Polyclet, his chissel Phidias gave,_ - - Algarotti. - -copied them in clay before their removal, and following them some years -after, filled Dresden with everlasting monuments of his art: but even -there he studied the drapery of his priestesses, (drapery his chief -skill!) till he laid down his chissel, and thus gave the most striking -proof of their excellence. - - -III. DRAPERY. - -By Drapery is to be understood all that the art teaches of covering the -nudities, and folding the garments; and this is the third prerogative of -the ancients. - -The Drapery of the vestals above, is grand and elegant. The smaller -foldings spring gradually from the larger ones, and in them are lost -again, with a noble freedom, and gentle harmony of the whole, without -hiding the correct Contour. How few of the moderns would stand the test -here! - -Justice, however, shall not be refused to some great modern artists, who, -without impairing nature or truth, have left, in certain cases, the road -which the ancients generally pursued. The Greek Drapery, in order to help -the Contour, was, for the most part, taken from thin and wet garments, -which of course clasped the body, and discovered the shape. The robe of -the Greek ladies was extremely thin; thence its epithet of Peplon. - -Nevertheless the reliefs, the pictures, and particularly the busts of the -ancients, are instances that they did not always keep to this undulating -Drapery[11]. - -In modern times the artists were forced to heap garments, and sometimes -heavy ones, on each other, which of course could not fall into the -flowing folds of the ancients. Hence the large-folded Drapery, by which -the painter and sculptor may display as much skill as by the ancient -manner. _Carlo Marat_ and _Francis Solimena_ may be called the chief -masters of it: but the garments of the new Venetian school, by passing -the bounds of nature and propriety, became stiff as brass. - - -IV. EXPRESSION. - -The last and most eminent characteristic of the Greek works is a noble -simplicity and sedate grandeur in Gesture and Expression. As the bottom -of the sea lies peaceful beneath a foaming surface, a great soul lies -sedate beneath the strife of passions in Greek figures. - -’Tis in the face of Laocoon this soul shines with full lustre, not -confined however to the face, amidst the most violent sufferings. Pangs -piercing every muscle, every labouring nerve; pangs which we almost -feel ourselves, while we consider—not the face, nor the most expressive -parts—only the belly contracted by excruciating pains: these however, I -say, exert not themselves with violence, either in the face or gesture. -He pierces not heaven, like the Laocoon of _Virgil_; his mouth is rather -opened to discharge an anxious overloaded groan, as _Sadolet_ says; -the struggling body and the supporting mind exert themselves with equal -strength, nay balance all the frame. - -Laocoon suffers, but suffers like the Philoctetes of _Sophocles_: we -weeping feel his pains, but wish for the hero’s strength to support his -misery. - -The Expression of so great a soul is beyond the force of mere nature. It -was in his own mind the artist was to search for the strength of spirit -with which he marked his marble. Greece enjoyed artists and philosophers -in the same persons; and the wisdom of more than one Metrodorus directed -art, and inspired its figures with more than common souls. - -Had Laocoon been covered with a garb becoming an antient sacrificer, -his sufferings would have lost one half of their Expression. _Bernini_ -pretended to perceive the first effects of the operating venom in the -numbness of one of the thighs. - -Every action or gesture in Greek figures, not stamped with this -character of sage dignity, but too violent, too passioniate, was called -“Parenthyrsos.” - -For, the more tranquillity reigns in a body, the fitter it is to draw -the true character of the soul; which, in every excessive gesture, -seems to rush from her proper centre, and being hurried away by -extremes becomes unnatural. Wound up to the highest pitch of passion, -she may force herself upon the duller eye; but the true sphere of her -action is simplicity and calmness. In Laocoon sufferings alone had -been Parenthyrsos; the artist therefore, in order to reconcile the -significative and ennobling qualities of his soul, put him into a -posture, allowing for the sufferings that were necessary, the next to a -state of tranquillity: a tranquillity however that is characteristical: -the soul will be herself—this individual—not the soul of mankind; sedate, -but active; calm, but not indifferent or drowsy. - -What a contrast! how diametrically opposite to this is the taste of our -modern artists, especially the young ones! on nothing do they bestow -their approbation, but contorsions and strange postures, inspired with -boldness; this they pretend is done with spirit, with _Franchezza_. -Contrast is the darling of their ideas; in it they fancy every -perfection. They fill their performances with comet-like excentric souls, -despising every thing but an Ajax or a Capaneus. - -Arts have their infancy as well as men; they begin, as well as the -artist, with froth and bombast: in such buskins the muse of Æschilus -stalks, and part of the diction in his Agamemnon is more loaded with -hyperboles than all Heraclitus’s nonsense. Perhaps the primitive Greek -painters drew in the same manner that their first good tragedian thought -in. - -In all human actions flutter and rashness precede, sedateness and -solidity follow: but time only can discover, and the judicious will -admire these only: they are the characteristics of great masters; violent -passions run away with their disciples. - -The sages in the art know the difficulties hid under that air of easiness: - - _ut sibi quivis_ - _Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret_ - _Ausus idem._ - - Hor. - -_La Fage_, though an eminent designer, was not able to attain the purity -of ancient taste. Every thing is animated in his works; they demand, and -at the same time dissipate, your attention, like a company striving to -talk all at once. - -This noble simplicity and sedate grandeur is also the true -characteristical mark of the best and maturest Greek writings, of the -epoch and school of _Socrates_. Possessed of these qualities _Raphael_ -became eminently great, and he owed them to the ancients. - -That great soul of his, lodged in a beauteous body, was requisite for the -first discovery of the true character of the ancients: he first felt all -their beauties, and (what he was peculiarly happy in!) at an age when -vulgar, unfeeling, and half-moulded souls overlook every higher beauty. - -Ye that approach his works, teach your eyes to be sensible of those -beauties, refine your taste by the true antique, and then that solemn -tranquillity of the chief figures in his _Attila_, deemed insipid by the -vulgar, will appear to you equally significant and sublime. The Roman -bishop, in order to divert the Hun from his design of assailing Rome, -appears not with the air of a Rhetor, but as a venerable man, whose very -presence softens uproar into peace; like him drawn by Virgil: - - _Tum pietate gravem ac meritis, si forte virum quem_ - _Conspexere, silent, adrectisque auribus adstant:_ - - Æn. I. - -full of confidence in God, he faces down the barbarian: the two Apostles -descend not with the air of slaughtering angels, but (if sacred may be -compared with profane) like Jove, whose very nod shakes Olympus. - -_Algardi_, in his celebrated representation of the same story, done in -bas-relief on an altar in St. Peter’s church at Rome, was either too -negligent, or too weak, to give this active tranquillity of his great -predecessor to the figures of his Apostles. There they appear like -messengers of the Lord of Hosts: here like human warriors with mortal -arms. - -How few of those we call connoisseurs have ever been able to understand, -and sincerely to admire, the grandeur of expression in the St. _Michael -of Guido_, in the church of the Capuchins at Rome! they prefer commonly -the Archangel of _Concha_, whose face glows with indignation and -revenge[12]; whereas _Guido_’s Angel, after having overthrown the fiend -of God and man, hovers over him unruffled and undismayed. - -Thus, to heighten the hero of _The Campaign_, victorious Marlborough, the -British poet paints the avenging Angel hovering over Britannia with the -like serenity and awful calmness. - -The royal gallery at Dresden contains now, among its treasures, one of -_Raphael_’s best pictures, witness Vasari, &c. a Madonna with the Infant; -St. Sixtus and St. Barbara kneeling, one on each side, and two Angels in -the fore-part. - -It was the chief altar-piece in the cloister of St. Sixtus at Piacenza, -which was crouded by connoisseurs, who came to see this Raphael, in -the same manner as Thespis was in the days of old, for the sake of the -beautiful Cupid of _Praxiteles_. - -Behold the Madonna! her face brightens with innocence; a form above the -female size, and the calmness of her mien, make her appear as already -beatified: she has that silent awfulness which the ancients spread over -their deities. How grand, how noble is her Contour! - -The child in her arms is elevated above vulgar children, by a face -darting the beams of divinity through every smiling feature of harmless -childhood. - -St. Barbara kneels, with adoring stillness, at her side: but being far -beneath the majesty of the chief figure, the great artist compensated her -humbler graces with soft enticing charms. - -The Saint opposite to her is venerable with age. His features seem to -bear witness of his sacred youth. - -The veneration which St. Barbara declares for the Madonna, expressed in -the most sensible and pathetic manner, by her fine hands clasped on her -breast, helps to support the motion of one of St. Sixtus’s hands, by -which he utters his extasy, better becoming (as the artist judiciously -thought, and chose for variety’s sake) manly strength, than female -modesty. - -Time, ’tis true, has withered the primitive splendour of this picture, -and partly blown off its lively colours; but still the soul, with which -the painter inspired his godlike work, breathes life through all its -parts. - -Let those that approach this, and the rest of _Raphael_’s works, in hopes -of finding there the trifling Dutch and Flemish beauties, the laboured -nicety of _Netscher_, or _Douw_, flesh _ivorified_ by _Van der Werf_, -or even the licked manner of some of _Raphael_’s living countrymen; let -those, I say, be told, that _Raphael_ was not a great master for them. - - -V. WORKMANSHIP IN SCULPTURE. - -After these remarks on the Nature, the Contour, the Drapery, the -simplicity and grandeur of Expression in the performances of the Greek -artists, we shall proceed to some inquiries into their method of working. - -Their models were generally made of wax; instead of which the moderns -used clay, or such like unctuous stuff, as seeming fitter for expressing -flesh, than the more gluey and tenacious wax. - -A method however not new, though more frequent in our times: for we know -even the name of that ancient who first attempted modelling in wet clay; -’twas _Dibutades_ of Sicyon; and _Arcesilaus_, the friend of _Lucullus_, -grew more famous by his models of clay than his other performances. -He made for _Lucullus_ a figure of clay representing _Happiness_, and -received 60,000 sesterces: and _Octavius_, a Roman Knight, paid him a -talent for the model only of a large dish, in plaister, which he designed -to have finished in gold. - -Of all materials, clay might be allowed to be the fittest for shaping -figures, could it preserve its moistness; but losing that by time or -fire, its solider parts, contracting by degrees, lessen the bulk of the -mass; and that which is formed, being of different diameters, grows -sooner dry in some parts than in others, and the dry ones being shrunk to -a smaller size, there will be no proportion kept in the whole. - -From this inconvenience wax is always free: it loses nothing of its bulk; -and there are also means to give it the smoothness of flesh, which is -refused to modelling; viz. you make your model of clay, mould it with -plaister, and cast the wax over it. - -But for transferring their models to the marble, the Greeks seem to -have possessed some peculiar advantages, which are now lost: for you -discover, every where in their works, the traces of a confident hand; and -even in those of inferior rank, it would be no easy matter to prove a -wrong cut. Surely hands so steady, so secure, must of necessity have been -guided by rules more determinate and less arbitrary than we can boast of. - -The usual method of our sculptors is, to quarter the well-prepared model -with horizontals and perpendiculars, and, as is common in copying a -picture, to draw a relative number of squares on the marble. - -Thus, regular gradations of a scale being supposed, every small square -of the model has its corresponding one on the marble. But the contents -of the relative masses not being determinable by a measured surface, the -artist, though he gives to his stone the resemblance of the model, yet, -as he only depends on the precarious aid of his eye, he shall never cease -wavering, as to his doing right or wrong, cutting too flat or too deep. - -Nor can he find lines to determine precisely the outlines, or the Contour -of the inward parts, and the centre of his model, in so fixed and -unchangeable a manner, as to enable him, exactly, to transfer the same -Contours upon his stone. - -To all this add, that, if his work happens to be too voluminous for one -single hand, he must trust to those of his journeymen and disciples, -who, too often, are neither skilful nor cautious enough to follow their -master’s design; and if once the smallest trifle be cut wrong, for it is -impossible to fix, by this method, the limits of the cuts, all is lost. - -It is to be remarked in general, that every sculptor, who carries on his -chisselings their whole length, on first fashioning his marble, and does -not prepare them by gradual cuts for the last final strokes; it is to be -remarked, I say, that he never can keep his work free from faults. - -Another chief defect in that method is this: the artist cannot help -cutting off, every moment, the lines on his block; and though he restore -them, cannot possibly be sure of avoiding mistakes. - -On account of this unavoidable uncertainty, the artists found themselves -obliged to contrive another method, and that which the French academy at -Rome first made use of for copying antiques, was applied by many even to -modelled performances. - -Over the statue which you want to copy, you fix a well-proportioned -square, dividing it into equally distant degrees, by plummets: by these -the outlines of the figure are more distinctly marked than they could -possibly be by means of the former method: they moreover afford the -artist an exact measure of the more prominent or lower parts, by the -degrees in which these parts are near them, and in short, allow him to go -on with more confidence. - -But the undulations of a curve being not determinable by a single -perpendicular, the Contours of the figure are but indifferently indicated -to the artist; and among their many declinations from a straight surface, -his tenour is every moment lost. - -The difficulty of discovering the real proportions of the figures, may -also be easily imagined: they seek them by horizontals placed across the -plummets. But the rays reflected from the figure through the squares, -will strike the eye in enlarged angles, and consequently appear bigger, -in proportion as they are high or low to the point of view. - -Nevertheless, as the ancient monuments must be most cautiously dealt -with, plummets are still of use in copying them, as no surer or easier -method has been discovered: but for performances to be done from models -they are unfit for want of precision. - -_Michael Angelo_ went alone a way unknown before him, and (strange to -tell!) untrod since the time of that genius of modern sculpture. - -This Phidias of latter times, and next to the Greeks, hath, in all -probability, hit the very mark of his great masters. We know at least no -method so eminently proper for expressing on the block every, even the -minutest, beauty of the model. - -_Vasari_[13] seems to give but a defective description of this method, -viz. _Michael Angelo_ took a vessel filled with water, in which he -placed his model of wax, or some such indissoluble matter: then, by -degrees, raised it to the surface of the water. In this manner the -prominent parts were unwet, the lower covered, ’till the whole at length -appeared. Thus says _Vasari_, he cut his marble, proceeding from the more -prominent parts to the lower ones. - -_Vasari_, it seems, either mistook something in the management of his -friend, or by the negligence of his account gives us room to imagine it -somewhat different from what he relates. - -The form of the vessel is not determined; to raise the figure from -below would prove too troublesome, and presupposes much more than this -historian had a mind to inform us of. - -_Michael Angelo_, no doubt, thoroughly examined his invention, its -conveniencies and inconveniencies, and in all probability observed the -following method. - -He took a vessel proportioned to his model; for instance, an oblong -square: he marked the surface of its sides with certain dimensions, and -these he transferred afterwards, with regular gradations, on the marble. -The inside of the vessel he marked to the bottom with degrees. Then he -laid, or, if of wax, fastened his model in it; he drew, perhaps, a bar -over the vessel suitable to its dimensions, according to whose number he -drew, first, lines on his marble, and immediately after, the figure; he -poured water on the model till it reached its outmost points, and after -having fixed upon a prominent part, he drew off as much water as hindered -him from seeing it, and then went to work with his chissel, the degrees -shewing him how to go on; if, at the same time, some other part of the -model appeared, it was copied too, as far as seen. - -Water was again carried off, in order to let the lower parts appear; by -the degrees he saw to what pitch it was reduced, and by its smoothness -he discovered the exact surfaces of the lower parts; nor could he go -wrong, having the same number of degrees to guide him, upon his marble. - -The water not only pointed him out the heights or depths, but also the -Contour of his model; and the space left free on the insides to the -surface of the water, whose largeness was determined by the degrees of -the two other sides, was the exact measure of what might safely be cut -down from the block. - -His work had now got the first form, and a correct one: the levelness of -the water had drawn a line, of which every prominence of the mass was -a point; according to the diminution of the water the line sunk in a -horizontal direction, and was followed by the artist ’till he discovered -the declinations of the prominences, and their mingling with the lower -parts. Proceeding thus with every degree, as it appeared, he finished the -Contour, and took his model out of the water. - -His figure wanted beauty: he again poured water to a proper height over -his model, and then numbering the degrees to the line described by the -water, he descried the exact height of the protuberant parts; on these he -levelled his rule, and took the measure of the distance, from its verge -to the bottom; and then comparing all he had done with his marble, and -finding the same number of degrees, he was geometrically sure of success. - -Repeating his task, he attempted to express the motion and re-action of -nerves and muscles, the soft undulations of the smaller parts, and every -imitable beauty of his model. The water insinuating itself, even into -the most inaccessible parts, traced their Contour with the correctest -sharpness and precision. - -This method admits of every possible posture. In profile especially, it -discovers every inadvertency; shews the Contour of the prominent and -lower parts, and the whole diameter. - -All this, and the hope of success, presupposes a model formed by skilful -hands, in the true taste of antiquity. - -This is the way by which _Michael Angelo_ arrived at immortality. -Fame and rewards conspired to procure him what leisure he wanted, for -performances which required so much care. - -But the artist of our days, however endowed by nature and industry with -talents to raise himself, and even though he perceive precision and truth -in this method, is forced to exert his abilities for getting bread rather -than honour: he of course rests in his usual sphere, and continues to -trust in an eye directed by years and practice. - -Now this eye, by the observations of which he is chiefly ruled, being -at last, though by a great deal of uncertain practice, become almost -decisive: how refined, how exact might it not have been, if, from early -youth, acquainted with never-changing rules! - -And were young artists, at their first beginning to shape the clay -or form the wax, so happy as to be instructed in this sure method of -_Michael Angelo_, which was the fruit of long researches, they might with -reason hope to come as near the Greeks as he did. - - -VI. PAINTING. - -Greek Painting perhaps would share all the praises bestowed on their -Sculpture, had time and the barbarity of mankind allowed us to be -decisive on that point. - -All the Greek painters are allowed is Contour and Expression. -Perspective, Composition, and Colouring, are denied them; a judgment -founded on some bas-reliefs, and the new-discovered ancient (for we dare -not say Greek) pictures, at and near Rome, in the subterranean vaults of -the palaces of Mæcenas, Titus, Trajan, and the Antonini; of which but -about thirty are preserved entire, some being only in Mosaic. - -_Turnbull_, to his treatise on ancient painting, has subjoined a -collection of the most known ancient pictures, drawn by _Camillo -Paderni_, and engraved by _Mynde_; and these alone give some value to the -magnificent and abused paper of his work. Two of them are copied from -originals in the cabinet of the late Dr. _Mead_. - -That _Poussin_ much studied the pretended _Aldrovandine_ Nuptials; that -drawings are found done by _Annibal Carracci_, from the presumed _Marcius -Coriolanus_; and that there is a most striking resemblance between the -heads of _Guido_, and those on the Mosaic representing _Jupiter_ carrying -off _Europa_, are remarks long since made. - -Indeed, if ancient Painting were to be judged by these, and such like -remains of _Fresco_ pictures, Contour and Expression might be wrested -from it in the same manner. For the pictures, with figures as big as -life, pulled off with the walls of the Herculanean theatre, afford but -a very poor idea of the Contour and Expression of the ancient painters. -Theseus, the conqueror of the Minotaur, worshipped by the Athenian -youths; Flora with Hercules and a Faunus; the pretended judgment of the -Decemvir Appius Claudius, are on the testimony of an artist who saw them, -of a Contour as mean as faulty; and the heads want not only Expression, -but those in the Claudius even Character. - -But even this is an evident instance of the meanness of the artists: for -the science of beautiful Proportions, of Contour, and Expression, could -not be the exclusive privilege of Greek sculptors alone. - -However, though I am for doing justice to the ancients, I have no -intention to lessen the merit of the moderns. - -In Perspective there is no comparison between them and the ancients, -whom no earned defence can intitle to any superiority in that science. -The laws of Composition and Ordonnance seem to have been but imperfectly -known by the ancients: the reliefs of the times when the Greek arts were -flourishing at Rome, are instances of this. The accounts of the ancient -writers, and the remains of Painting are likewise, in point of Colouring, -decisive in favour of the moderns. - -There are several other objects of Paintings which, in modern times, have -attained greater perfection: such are landscapes and cattle pieces. The -ancients seem not to have been acquainted with the handsomer varieties of -different animals in different climes, if we may conclude from the horse -of M. Aurelius; the two horses in Monte Cavallo; the pretended Lysippean -horses above the portal of St. Mark’s church at Venice; the Farnesian -bull, and other animals of that groupe. - -I observe, by the bye, that the ancients were careless of giving to their -horses the diametrical motion of their legs; as we see in the horses at -Venice, and the ancient coins: and in that they have been followed, nay -even defended, by some ignorant moderns. - -’Tis chiefly to oil-painting that our landscapes, and especially those -of the Dutch, owe their beauties: by that their colours acquired more -strength and liveliness; and even nature herself seems to have given them -a thicker, moister atmosphere, as an advantage to this branch of the art. - -These, and some other advantages over the ancients, deserve to be set -forth with more solid arguments than we have hitherto had. - - -VII. ALLEGORY. - -There is one other important step left towards the atchievement of the -art: but the artist, who, boldly forsaking the common path, dares to -attempt it, finds himself at once on the brink of a precipice, and starts -back dismayed. - -The stories of martyrs and saints, fables and metamorphoses, are almost -the only objects of modern painters—repeated a thousand times, and varied -almost beyond the limits of possibility, every tolerable judge grows sick -at them. - -The judicious artist falls asleep over a Daphne and Apollo, a Proserpine -carried off by Pluto, an Europa, &c. he wishes for occasions to shew -himself a poet, to produce significant images, to paint Allegory. - -Painting goes beyond the senses: _there_ is its most elevated pitch, to -which the Greeks strove to raise themselves, as their writings evince. -Parrhasius, like Aristides, a painter of the soul, was able to express -the character even of a whole people: he painted the Athenians as mild -as cruel, as fickle as steady, as brave as timid. Such a representation -owes its possibility only to the allegorical method, whose images convey -general ideas. - -But here the artist is lost in a desart. Tongues the most savage, which -are entirely destitute of abstracted ideas, containing no word whose -sense could express memory, space, duration, &c. these tongues, I say, -are not more destitute of general signs, than painting in our days. The -painter who thinks beyond his palette longs for some learned apparatus, -by whose stores he might be enabled to invest abstracted ideas with -sensible and meaning images. Nothing has yet been published of this -kind, to satisfy a rational being; the essays hitherto made are not -considerable, and far beneath this great design. The artist himself -knows best in what degree he is satisfied with Ripa’s Iconology, and the -emblems of ancient nations, by Van Hooghe. - -Hence the greatest artists have chosen but vulgar objects. _Annibal -Caracci_, instead of representing in general symbols and sensible images -the history of the Farnesian family, as an allegorical poet, wasted all -his skill in fables known to the whole world. - -Go, visit the galleries of monarchs, and the publick repositories of -art, and see what difference there is between the number of allegorical, -poetical, or even historical performances, and that of fables, saints, or -madonnas. - -Among great artists, _Rubens_ is the most eminent, who first, like a -sublime poet, dared to attempt this untrodden path. His most voluminous -composition, the gallery of Luxembourg, has been communicated to the -world by the hands of the best engravers. - -After him the sublimest performance undertaken and finished, in that -kind, is, no doubt, the cupola of the imperial library at Vienna, painted -by _Daniel Gran_, and engraved by _Sedelmayer_. The Apotheosis of -Hercules at Versailles, done by _Le Moine_, and alluding to the Cardinal -_Hercules de Fleury_, though deemed in France the most august of -compositions, is, in comparison of the learned and ingenious performance -of the German artist, but a very mean and short-sighted Allegory, -resembling a panegyric, the most striking beauties of which are relative -to the almanack. The artist had it in his power to indulge grandeur, and -his flipping the occasion is astonishing: but even allowing, that the -Apotheosis of a minister was all that he ought to have decked the chief -cieling of a royal palace with, we nevertheless see through his fig-leaf. - -The artist would require a work, containing every image with which any -abstracted idea might be poetically inverted; a work collected from -all mythology, the best poets of all ages, the mysterious philosophy -of different nations, the monuments of the ancients on gems, coins, -utensils, &c. This magazine should be distributed into several classes, -and, with proper applications to peculiar possible cases, adapted to the -instruction of the artist. This would, at the same time, open a vast -field for imitating the ancients, and participating of their sublimer -taste. - -The taste in our decorations, which, since the complaints of _Vitruvius_, -hath changed for the worse, partly by the grotesques brought in vogue by -_Morto da Feltro_, partly by our trifling house-painting, might also, -from more intimacy with the ancients, reap the advantages of reality and -common sense. - -The Caricatura-carvings, and favourite shells, those chief supports of -our ornaments, are full as unnatural as the candle-sticks of _Vitruvius_, -with their little castles and palaces: how easy would it be, by the help -of Allegory, to give some learned convenience to the smallest ornament! - - _Reddere personæ scit convenientia cuique._ - - Hor. - -Paintings of ceilings, doors, and chimney-pieces, are commonly but the -expletives of these places, because they cannot be gilt all over. Not -only they have not the least relation to the rank and circumstances of -the proprietor, but often throw some ridicule or reflection upon him. - -’Tis an abhorrence of barrenness that fills walls and rooms; and pictures -void of thought must supply the vacuum. - -Hence the artist, abandoned to the dictates of his own fancy, paints, for -want of Allegory, perhaps a satire on him to whom he owes his industry; -or, to shun this Charybdis, finds himself reduced to paint figures void -of any meaning. - -Nay, he may often find it difficult to meet even with those, ’till at last - - ——_velut ægri Somnia, vanæ Finguntur Species._ - - Hor. - -Thus Painting is degraded from its most eminent prerogative, the -representation of invisible, past and future things. - -If pictures be sometimes met with, which might be significant in some -particular place, they often lose that property by stupid and wrong -applications. - -Perhaps the master of some new building - - _Dives agris, dives positis in fœnore nummis_ - - Hor. - -may, without the least compunction for offending the rules of -perspective, place figures of the smallest size above the vast doors -of his apartments and salloons. I speak here of those ornaments which -make part of the furniture; not of figures which are often, and for good -reasons, set up promiscuously in collections. - -The decorations of architecture are often as ill-chosen. Arms and -trophies deck a hunting-house as nonsensically, as Ganymede and the -eagle, Jupiter and Leda, figure it among the reliefs of the brazen gates -of St. Peter’s church at Rome. - -Arts have a double aim: to delight and to instruct. Hence the greatest -landscape-painters think, they have fulfilled but half their task in -drawing their pieces without figures. - -Let the artist’s pencil, like the pen of Aristotle, be impregnated with -reason; that, after having satiated the eye, he may nourish the mind: and -this he may obtain by Allegory; investing, not hiding his ideas. Then, -whether he chuse some poetical object himself, or follow the dictates of -others, he shall be inspired by his art, shall be fired with the flame -brought down from heaven by Prometheus, shall entertain the votary of -art, and instruct the mere lover of it. - - - - - A - LETTER, - CONTAINING - OBJECTIONS - AGAINST - The foregoing REFLEXIONS. - - -SIR, - -As you have written on the Greek arts and artists, I wish you had made -your treatise as much the object of your caution as the Greek artists -made their works; which, before dismissing them, they exhibited to -publick view, in order to be examined by everybody, and especially by -competent judges of the art. The trial was held during the grand, chiefly -the Olympian, games; and all Greece was interested on Ætion’s producing -his picture of the nuptials of Alexander and Roxana. You, Sir, wanted a -Proxenidas to be judged by, as well as that artist; and had it not been -for your mysterious concealment, I might have communicated your treatise, -before its publication, to some learned men and connoisseurs of my -acquaintance, without mentioning the author’s name. - -One of them visited Italy twice, where he devoted all his time to a most -anxious examination of painting, and particularly several months to each -eminent picture, at the very place where it was painted; the only method, -you know, to form a connoisseur. The judgment of a man able to tell you -which of Guido’s altar-pieces is painted on taffeta, or linnen, what sort -of wood Raphael chose for his transfiguration, &c. the judgment of such a -man, I fancy, must be allowed to be decisive. - -Another of my acquaintance has studied antiquity: he knows it by the very -smell; - - _Callet & Artificem solo deprendere Odore._ - - Sectan. Sat. - -He can tell you the number of knots on Hercules’s club; has reduced -Nestor’s goblet to the modern measure: nay, is suspected of meditating -solutions to all the questions proposed by Tiberius to the grammarians. - -A third, for several years past, has neglected every thing but hunting -after ancient coins. Many a new discovery we owe to him; especially some -concerning the history of the ancient coiners; and, as I am told, he is -to rouse the attention of the world by a Prodromus concerning the coiners -of Cyzicum. - -What a number of reproaches might you have escaped, had you submitted -your Essay to the judgment of these gentlemen! they were pleased to -acquaint me with their objections, and I should be sorry, for your -honour, to see them published. - -Among other objections, the first is surprized at your passing by the -two Angels, in your description of the Raphael in the royal cabinet at -Dresden; having been told, that a Bolognese painter, in mentioning this -piece, which he saw at St. Sixtus’s at Piacenza, breaks into these terms -of admiration: O! what Angels of Paradise[14]! by which he supposes those -Angels to be the most beautiful figures of the picture. - -The same person would reproach you for having described that picture in -the manner of Raguenet[15]. - -The second concludes the beard of Laocoon to be as worthy of your -attention as his contracted belly: for every admirer of Greek works, says -he, must pay the same respect to the beard of Laocoon, which father Labat -paid to that of the Moses of Michael Angelo. - -This learned Dominican, - - _Qui mores hominum multorum vidit & urbes_, - -has, after so many centuries, drawn from this very statue an evident -proof of the true fashion in which Moses wore his own individual beard, -and whose imitation must, of course, be the distinguishing mark of every -true Jew[16]. - -There is not the least spark of learning, says he, in your remarks on the -Peplon of the three vestals: he might perhaps, on the very inflection of -the veil, have discovered to you as many curiosities as Cuper himself -found on the edge of the veil of Tragedy in the Apotheosis of Homer[17]. - -We also want proof of the vestals being really Greek performances: our -reason fails us too often in the most obvious things. If unhappily the -marble of these figures should be proved to be no Lychnites, they are -lost, and your treatise too: had you but slightly told us their marble -was large-grained, that would have been a sufficient proof of their -authenticity; for it would be somewhat difficult to determine the bigness -of the grains with such exactness as to distinguish the Greek marble from -the Roman of Luna. But the worst is, they are even denied the title of -vestals. - -The third mentioned some heads of Livia and Agrippina, without that -pretended profile of yours. Here he thinks you had the most lucky -occasion to talk of that kind of nose by the ancients called _Quadrata_, -as an ingredient of beauty. But you no doubt know, that the noses of -some of the most famous Greek statues, viz. the Medicean Venus, and -the Picchinian Meleager, are much too thick for becoming the model of -beauty, in that kind, to our artists. - -I shall not, however, gall you with all the doubts and objections -raised against your treatise, and repeated to nauseousness, upon the -arrival of an Academician, the Margites of our days, who, being shewed -your treatise, gave it a slight glance, then laid it aside, offended -as it were at first sight. But it was easy to perceive that he wanted -his opinion to be asked, which we accordingly all did. “The author, -said he very peremptorily, seems not to have been at much pains with -this treatise: I cannot find above four or five quotations, and those -negligently inserted; no chapter, no page, cited; he certainly collected -his remarks from books which he is ashamed to produce.” - -Yet cannot I help introducing another gentleman, sharp-sighted enough -to pick out something that had escaped all my attention; viz. that the -Greeks were the first inventors of Painting and Sculpture; an assertion, -as he was pleased to express himself, entirely false, having been told it -was the Egyptians, or some people still more ancient, and unknown to him. - -Even the most whimsical humour may be turned to profit: nevertheless, I -think it manifest that you intended to talk only of good Taste in those -arts; and the first Elements of an art have the same proportion to good -Taste in it, as the seed has to the fruit. That the art was still in its -infancy among the Egyptians, when it had attained the highest degree of -perfection among the Greeks, may be seen by examining one single gem: -you need only consider the head of _Ptolomæus Philopator_ by Aulus, and -the two figures adjoining to it done by an Egyptian[18], in order to be -convinced of the little merit this nation could pretend to in point of -art. - -The form and taste of their Painting have been ascertained by -Middleton.[19] The pictures of persons as big as life, on two mummies -in the royal cabinet of antiquities at Dresden, are evident instances -of their incapacity. But these relicks being curious, in several other -respects, I shall hereafter subjoin a short account of them. - -I cannot, my friend, help allowing some reason for several of these -objections. Your negligence in your quotations was, no doubt, somewhat -prejudicial to your authenticity: the art of changing blue eyes to black -ones, certainly deserved an authority. You imitate Democritus; who -being asked, “What is man?” every body knows what was his reply. What -reasonable creature will submit to read all Greek scholiasts! - - _Ibit eo, quo vis, qui Zonam perdidit_— - - Hor. - -Considering, however, how easily the human mind is biassed, either by -friendship or animosity, I took occasion from these objections to examine -your treatise with more exactness; and shall now, by the most impartial -censure, strive to clear myself from every imputation of prepossession in -your favour. - -I will pass by the first and second page, though something might -be said on your comparison of the Diana with the Nausicaa, and the -application: nor would it have been amiss, had you thrown some more light -on the remark concerning the misused pictures of Corregio (very likely -borrowed from Count Tessin’s letters), by giving an account of the other -indignities which the pictures of the best artists, at the same time, met -with at Stockholm. - -It is well known that, after the surrender of Prague to Count Konigsmark, -the 15th of July 1648, the most precious pictures of the Emperor Rodolph -II. were carried off to Sweden[20]. Among these were some pictures -of Corregio, which the Emperor had been presented with by their first -possessor, Duke Frederick of Mantua; two of them being the famous Leda, -and a Cupid handling his bow[21]. Christina, endowed at that time rather -with scholastic learning than taste, treated these treasures as the -Emperor Claudius did an Alexander of Apelles; who ordered the head to be -cut off, and that of Augustus to fill its place[22]. In the same manner -heads, hands, feet were here cut off from the most beautiful pictures; -a carpet was plastered over with them, and the mangled pieces fitted up -with new heads, &c. Those that fortunately escaped the common havock, -among which were the pieces of Corregio, came afterwards, together with -several other pictures, bought by the Queen at Rome, into the possession -of the Duke of Orleans, who purchased 250 of them, and among those eleven -of Corregio, for 9000 Roman crowns. - -But I am not contented with your charging only the northern countries -with barbarism, on account of the little esteem they paid to the arts. -If good taste is to be judged in this manner, I am afraid for our French -neighbours. For having taken Bonn, the residence of the Elector of -Cologne, after the death of Max. Henry, they ordered the largest pictures -to be cut out of their frames, without distinction, in order to serve for -coverings to the waggons, in which the most valuable furniture of the -electoral castle was carried off for France. But, Sir, do not presume -on my continuing with mere historical remarks: I shall proceed with my -objections; after making the two following general observations. - -I. You have written in a style too concise for being distinct. Were -you afraid of being condemned to the penalty of a Spartan, who could -not restrain himself to only three words, perhaps that of reading -Picciardin’s Pisan War? Distinctness is required where universal -instruction is the end. Meats are to suit the taste of the guests, rather -than that of the cooks, - - ——_Cœnæ fercula nostræ_ - _Malim convivis quam placuisse coquis._ - -II. There appears, in almost every line of yours, the most passionate -attachment to antiquity; which perhaps I shall convince you of, by the -following remarks. - -The first particular objection I have to make is against your third page. -Remember, however, that my passing by two pages is very generous dealing: - - _non temere a me_ - _Quivis ferret idem:_ - - Hor. - -but let us now begin a formal trial. - -The author talks of certain negligences in the Greek works, which ought -to be considered suitably to Lucian’s precepts concerning the Zeus of -Phidias: “Zeus himself, not his footstool;”[23] though perhaps he could -not be charged with any fault in the foot-stool, but with a very grievous -one in the statue. - -Is it no fault that Phidias made his Zeus of so enormous a bulk, as -almost to reach the cieling of the temple, which must infallibly have -been thrown down, had the god taken it in his head to rise?[24] To have -left the temple without any cieling at all, like that of the Olympian -Jupiter at Athens, had been an instance of more judgment[25]. - -’Tis but justice to claim an explication of what the author means by -“negligences”. He perhaps might be pleased to get a passport, even for -the faults of the ancients, by sheltering them under the authority of -such titles; nay, to change them into beauties, as Alcæus did the spot -on the finger of his beloved boy. We too often view the blemishes of the -ancients, as a parent does those of his children: - - _Strabonem_ - _Appellat pætum pater, & pullum, male parvus_ - _Si cui filius est._ - - Hor. - -If these negligences were like those wished for in the Jalysus of -Protogenes, where the chief figure was out-shone by a partridge, they -might be considered as the agreeable negligée of a fine lady; but -this is the question. Besides, had the author consulted his interest, -he never would have ventured citing the Diomedes of Dioscorides: but -being too well acquainted with that gem, one of the most valued, most -finished monuments of Greek art; and being apprehensive of the prejudice -that might arise against the meaner productions of the ancients, on -discovering many faults in one so eminent as Diomedes; he endeavoured to -keep matters from being too nearly examined, and to soften every fault -into negligence. - -How! if by argument I shall attempt to shew that Dioscorides understood -neither perspective, nor the most trivial rules of the motion of a human -body; nay, that he offended even against possibility? I’ll venture to do -it, though - - _incedo per ignes_ - _Suppositos cineri doloso._ - - Hor. - -And perhaps I am not the first discoverer of his faults: yet I do not -remember to have seen any thing relative to them. - -The Diomedes of Dioscorides is either a sitting, or a rising figure; for -the attitude is ambiguous. It is plain he is not sitting; and rising is -inconsistent with his action. - -Our body endeavouring to raise itself from a seat, moves always -mechanically towards its sought-for centre of gravity, drawing back the -legs, which were advanced in sitting[26]; instead of which the figure -stretches out his right leg. Every erection begins with elevated heels, -and in that moment all the weight of the body is supported only by the -toes, which was observed by Felix[27], in his Diomedes: but here all -rests on the sole. - -Nor can Diomedes, (if we suppose him to be a sitting figure, as he -touches with his left leg the bottom of his thigh) find, in raising -himself, the centre of his gravity, only by a retraction of his legs, and -of course cannot rise in that posture. His left hand resting upon the -bended leg, holds the palladion, whilst his right touches negligently the -pedestal with the point of a short sword; consequently he cannot rise, -neither moving his legs in the natural and easy manner required in any -erection, nor making use of his arms to deliver himself from that uneasy -situation. - -There is at the same time a fault committed against the rules of -perspective. - -The foot of the left bended leg, touching the cornice of the pedestal, -shews it over-reaching that part of the floor, on which the pedestal -and the right foot are situated, consequently the line described by the -hinder-foot is the fore on the gem, and _vice versa_. - -But allowing even a possibility to that situation, it is contrary to the -Greek character, which is always distinguished by the natural and easy. -Attributes neither to be met with in the contortions of Diomedes, nor in -an attitude, the impossibility of which every one must be sensible of, in -endeavouring to put himself in it, without the help of former sitting. - -Felix, supposed to have lived after Dioscorides, though preserving the -same attitude, has endeavoured to make its violence more natural, by -opposing to him the figure of Ulysses, who, as we are told, in order to -bereave him of the honour of having seized the Palladion, offered to rob -him of it, but being discovered, was repulsed by Diomedes; which being -his supposed action on the gem, allows violence of attitude[28]. - -Diomedes cannot be a sitting figure, for the Contour of his buttock and -thigh is free, and not in the least compressed: the foot of the bent leg -is visible, and the leg itself not bent enough. - -The Diomedes represented by Mariette is absurd; the left leg resembling a -clasped pocket-knife, and the foot being drawn up so high as to make it -impossible in nature that it should reach the pedestal[29]. - -Faults of this kind cannot be called negligences, and would not be -forgiven in any modern artist. - -Dioscorides, ’tis true, in this renowned performance did but copy -Polycletus, whose Doryphorus (as is commonly agreed) was the best rule -of human proportions[30]. But, though a copyist, Dioscorides escaped -a fault which his master fell into. For the pedestal, over which the -Diomedes of Polycletus leans, is contrary to the most common rules -of perspective; its cornices, which should be parallel, forming two -different lines. - -I wonder at Perrault’s omitting to make objections against the ancient -gems. - -I mean not to do any thing derogatory to the author, when I trace some of -his particular observations to their source. - -The food prescribed to the young wrestlers, in the remoter times of -Greece, is mentioned by Pausanias[31]. But if the author alluded to the -passage which I have in view, why does he talk in general of milk-food, -when Pausanias particularly mentions soft cheese? Dromeus of Stymphilos, -we learn there, first introduced flesh meat. - -My researches, concerning their mysterious art of changing blue eyes to -black ones, have not succeeded to my wish. I find it mentioned but once, -and that only by the bye by Dioscorides[32]. The author, by clearing up -this art, might perhaps have thrown a greater lustre over his treatise, -than by producing his new method of statuary. He had it in his power to -fix the eyes of the Newtons and Algarotti’s, on a problem worth their -attention, and to engage the fair sex, by a discovery so advantageous to -their charms, especially in Germany, where, contrary to Greece, large, -fine, blue eyes are more frequently met with than black ones. - -There was a time when the fashion required to be green eyed: - - _Et si bel oeil vert & riant & clair:_ - - Le Sire de Coucy, chans. - -But I do not know whether art had any share in their colouring. And as to -the small-pox, Hippocrates might be quoted, if grammatical disquisitions -suited my purpose. - -However, I think, no effects of the small-pox on a face can be so -much the reverse of beauty, as that defect which the Athenians were -reproachfully charged with, viz. a buttock as pitiful as their face was -perfect[33]. Indeed Nature, in so scantily supplying those parts, seemed -to derogate as much from the Athenian beauty, as, by her lavishness, from -that of the Indian Enotocets, whose ears, we are told, were large enough -to serve them for pillows. - -As for opportunities to study the nudities, our times, I think, afford -as advantageous ones as the Gymnasies of the ancients. ’Tis the fault of -our artists to make no use of that[34] proposed to the Parisian artists, -viz. to walk, during the summer season, along the Seine, in order to have -a full view of the naked parts, from the sixth to the fiftieth year. - -’Tis perhaps to Michael Angelo’s frequenting such opportunities that -we owe his celebrated Carton of the Pisan war[35], where the soldiers -bathing in a river, at the sound of a trumpet leap out of the water, and -make haste to huddle on their cloaths. - -One of the most offensive passages of the treatise is, no doubt, the -unjust debasement of the modern sculptors beneath the ancients. These -latter times are possessed of several Glycons in muscular heroic figures, -and, in tender youthful female bodies, of more than one Praxiteles. -Michael Angelo, Algardi, and Sluter, whose genius embellished Berlin, -produced muscular bodies, - - ——_Invicti membra Glyconis,_ - - Hor. - -in a style rivalling that of Glycon himself; and in delicacy the -Greeks are perhaps even outdone by _Bernini_, _Fiammingo_, _Le Gros_, -_Rauchmüller_, _Donner_. - -The unskilfulness of the ancients, in shaping children, is agreed upon -by our artists, who, I suppose, would for imitation choose a Cupid of -Fiammingo rather than of Praxiteles himself. The story of M. Angelo’s -placing a Cupid of his own by the side of an antique one, in order to -inform our times of the superiority of the ancient art, is of no weight -here: for no work of Michael Angelo can bring us so near perfection as -Nature herself. - -I think it no hyperbole to advance, that Fiammingo, like a new -Prometheus, produced creatures which art had never seen before him. For, -if from almost all the children on ancient gems[36] and reliefs[37], we -may form a conclusion of the art itself, it wanted the true expression -of childhood, as looser forms, more milkiness, and unknit bones. Faults -which, from the epoch of Raphael, all children laboured under, till the -appearance of _Francis Quesnoy_, called Fiammingo, whose children having -the advantages of suitable innocence and nature, became models to the -following artists, as in youthful bodies Apollo and Antinous are: an -honour which _Algardi_, his contemporary, may be allowed to share. - -Their models in clay are, by our artists, esteemed superior to all the -antique marble children; and an artist of genius and talents assured me, -that during a stay of seven years at Vienna, he saw not one copy taken -from an ancient Cupid in that academy. - -Neither do I know on what singular idea of beauty, the ancient artists -founded their custom, of hiding the foreheads of their children and -youths with hair. Thus a Cupid was represented by Praxiteles[38]; thus a -Patroclus, in a picture mentioned by Philostratus[39]: and there is no -statue nor bust, no gem nor coin of Antinous, in which we do not find him -thus dressed. Hence, perhaps, that gloom, that melancholy, with which all -the heads of this favourite of Hadrian are marked. - -Is not there in a free open brow more nobleness and sublimity? and does -not _Bernini_ seem to have been better acquainted with beauty than the -ancients, when he removed the over-shadowing locks from the forehead -of young Lewis XIV. whose bust he was then executing? “Your Majesty, -said Bernini, is King, and may with confidence shew your brow to all -the world.” From that time King and court dressed their hair à la -Bernini[40]. - -His judgment of the bas-reliefs on the monument of Pope Alexander VI[41]. -leads us to some remarks on those of antiquity. “The skill in bas-relief, -said he, consists in giving the air of relief to the flat: the figures of -that monument seem what they are indeed, not what they are not.” - -The chief end of bas-relief is to deck those places that want historical -or allegorical ornaments, but which have neither cornices sufficiently -spacious, nor proportions regular enough to allow groupes of entire -statues: and as the cornice itself is chiefly intended to shelter the -subordinate parts from being directly or indirectly hurt, no bas-relief -must exceed the projection thereof; which would not only make the cornice -of no use, but endanger the figures themselves. - -The figures of ancient bas-reliefs shoot commonly so much forward as to -become almost round. But bas-relief being founded on fiction, can only -counterfeit reality; its perfection is well to imitate; and a natural -mass is against its nature: if flat, it ought to appear projected, and -_vice versa_. If this be true, it must of course be allowed that figures -wholly round are inconsistent with it, and are to be considered as solid -marble pillars built upon the theatre, whose aim is mere illusion; for -art, as is said of tragedy, wins truth from fiction, and that by truth. -To art we often owe charms superior to those of nature: a real garden and -vegetating trees, on the stage, do not affect us so agreeably, as when -well expressed by the imitating art. A rose of _Van Huisum_, mallows of -_Veerendal_, bewitch us more than all the darlings of the most skilful -gardener: the most enticing landscape, nay, even the charms of the -Thessalian Tempe, would not, perhaps, affect us with that irresistible -delight which, flowing from _Dietrick_’s pencil, enchants our senses and -imagination. - -By such instances we may safely form a judgment of the ancient -bas-reliefs: the royal cabinet at Dresden is possessed of two eminent -ones: a Bacchanal on a tomb, and a sacrifice to Priapus on a large marble -vase. - -The bas-relief claims a particular kind of sculpture; a method that -few have succeeded in, of which _Matielli_ may be an instance. The -Emperor Charles VI. having ordered some models to be prepared by the -most renowned artists, in bas-relief, intended for the spiral columns -at the church of S. Charles Borromæo; _Matielli_, already famous, was -principally thought of; but however refused the honour of so considerable -a work, on account of the enormous bulk of his model, which requiring -too great cavities, would have diminished the mass of the stone, and of -course weakened the pillars. _Mader_ was the artist, whose models were -universally applauded, and who by his admirable execution proved that he -deserved that preference. These bas-reliefs represent the story of the -patron of this church. - -It is in general to be observed, first, that this kind of sculpture -admits not indifferently of every attitude and action; as for instance, -of too strong projections of the legs. Secondly, That, besides disposing -of the several modelled figures in well-ranged groupes, the diameter of -every one ought to be applied to the bas-relief itself, by a lessened -scale: as for instance, the diameter of a figure in the model being one -foot, the profile of the same, according to its size, will be three -inches, or less: the rounder a figure of that diameter, the greater the -skill. Commonly the relief wants perspective, and thence arise most of -its faults. - -Though I proposed to make only a few remarks on the ancient bas-relief, -I find myself, like a certain ancient Rhetor, almost under a necessity -of being new-tuned. I have strayed beyond my limits; though at the same -time I remembered that there is a law among commentators, to content -themselves with bare remarks on the contents of a treatise: and also -sensible that I am writing a letter, not a book, I consider that I may -draw some instructions for my own use, - - ——_ut vineta egomet cædam mea,_ - - Hor. - -from some peoples impetuosity against the author; who, because they are -hired for it, seem to think that writing is confined to them alone. - -The Romans, though they worshipped the deity Terminus (the guardian God -of limits and borders in general; and, if it please these gentlemen, of -the limits in arts and sciences too), allowed nevertheless an universal -unrestrained criticism: and the decisions of some Greeks and Romans, -in matters of an art, which they did not practise, seem nevertheless -authentick to our artists. - -Nor can I find, that the keeper of the temple of peace at Rome, though -possessed of the register of the pictures there, pretended to monopolize -remarks and criticisms upon them; Pliny having described most of them. - - _Publica materies privati juris sit_— - - Hor. - -’Tis to be wished, that, roused by a Pamphilus and an Apelles, artists -would take up the pen themselves, in order to discover the mysteries of -the art to those that know how to use them, - - _Ma di costor’, che à lavorar s’accingono,_ - _Quattro quinti, per Dio, non sanno leggere._ - - Salvator Rosa, Sat. III. - -Two or three of these are to be commended; the rest contented themselves -with giving some historical accounts of the fraternity. But what could -appear more auspicious to the improvement of the art, even by the -remotest posterity, than the work attempted by the united forces of the -celebrated Pietro da Cortona[42] and Padre Ottonelli? Nevertheless this -same treatise, except only a few historical remarks, and these too to be -met with in an hundred books, seems good for nothing, but - - _Ne scombris tunicæ desint, piperique cuculli._ - - Sectan. Sat. - -How trivial, how mean are the great _Poussin_’s reflexions on painting, -published by Bellori, and annexed to his life of that artist[43]? - -Another digression!—let me now again resume the character of your -Aristarchus. - -You are bold enough to attack the authority of _Bernini_, and to -challenge a man, the bare mention of whose name would do honour to any -treatise. It was _Bernini_, you ought to recollect, Sir, who at the -same age in which Michael Angelo performed his _Studiolo_[44], viz. in -his eighteenth year, produced his Daphne, as a convincing instance of -his intimacy with the ancients, at an age in which perhaps the genius of -Raphael was yet labouring under darkness and ignorance! - -_Bernini_ was one of those favourites of nature, who produce at the same -time vernal blossoms and autumnal fruits; and I think it by no means -probable, that his studying nature in riper years misled either him -or his disciples. The smoothness of his flesh was the result of that -study, and imparted to the marble the highest possible degree of life -and beauty. Indeed ’tis nature which endows art with life, and “vivifies -forms,” as Socrates says[45], and Clito the sculptor allows. The great -Lysippus, when asked which of his ancestors he had chosen for his -master, replied, “None; but nature alone.” It is not to be denied, that -the too close imitation of antiquity is very often apt to lead us to a -certain barrenness, unknown to those who imitate nature: various herself, -nature teaches variety, and no votary of her’s can be charged with a -sameness: whereas Guido, Le Brun, and some other votaries of antiquity, -repeated the same face in many of their works. A certain ideal beauty was -become so familiar to them, as to slide into their figures even against -their will. - -But as for such an imitation of nature, as is quite regardless of -antiquity, I am entirely of the author’s opinion; though I should have -chosen other artists as instances of following nature in painting. - -_Jordans_ certainly has not met with the regard due to his merit; let -me appeal to an authority universally allowed. “There is, says Mr. -d’Argenville, more expression and truth in Jordans, than even in Rubens. - -“Truth is the basis and origin of perfection and beauty; nothing, of any -kind whatever, can be beautiful or perfect, without being truly what it -ought to be, without having all it ought to have.” - -The solidity of this judgment presupposed, _Jordans_, according to -Rochefoucault’s maxims, ought rather to be ranked among the greatest -originals, than among the mimicks of common nature, where _Rembrandt_ -may fill up his place, as _Raoux_ or _Vatteau_ that of _Stella_; though -all these painters do nothing but what Euripides did before them; they -draw man _ad vivum_. There are no trifles, no meannesses in the art, and -if we recollect of what use the _Caricatura_ was to Bernini, we should -be cautious how we pass judgment even on the Dutch forms. That great -genius, they say[46], owed to this monster of the art, a distinction for -which he was so eminent, the “Franchezza del Tocco.” When I reflect on -this, I am forced to alter my former opinion of the _Caricatura_, so far -as to believe that no artist ever acquired a perfection therein without -gaining a farther improvement in the art itself. “It is, says the author, -a peculiar distinction of the ancients to have gone beyond nature:” our -artists do the same in their _Caricaturas_: but of what avail to them are -the voluminous works they have published on that branch of the art? - -The author lays it down, in the peremptory style of a legislator, that -“Precision of Contour can only be learned from the Greeks:” but our -academies unanimously agree, that the ancients deviate from a strict -Contour in the clavicles, arms, knees, &c. over which, in spite of -apophyses and bones, they drew their skin as smooth as over mere flesh; -whereas our academies teach to draw the bony and cartilaginous parts, -more angularly, but the fat and fleshy ones more smooth, and carefully to -avoid falling into the ancient style. Pray, Sir, can there be any error -in the advices of academies _in corpore_? - -_Parrhasius_ himself, the father of Contour, was not, by Pliny’s -account[47], master enough to hit the line by which completeness is -distinguished from superfluity: shunning corpulency he fell into -leanness: and _Zeuxis_’s Contour was perhaps like that of Rubens, if it -be true that, to augment the majesty of his figures, he drew with more -completeness. His female figures he drew like those of Homer[48], of -robust limbs: and does not even the tenderest of poets, Theocritus, draw -his Helen as fleshy and tall[49] as the Venus of Raphael in the assembly -of the gods in the little Farnese? Rubens then, for painting like Homer -and Theocritus, needs no apology. - -The character of Raphael, in the treatise, is drawn with truth and -exactness: but well may we ask the author, as Antalcidas the Spartan -asked a sophist, ready to burst forth in a panegyrick on Hercules, “Who -blames him?” The beauties however of the Raphael at Dresden, especially -the pretended ones of the Jesus, are still warmly disputed. - - _What you admire, we laugh at._ - -Why did not he rather display his patriotism against those Italian -connoisseurs, whose squeamish stomachs rise against every Flemish -production? - - _Turpis Romano Belgicus ore color._ - - Propert. L. II. Eleg. 8. - -And indeed are not colours so essential, that without them no picture -can aspire to universal applause? Do not their bewitching charms cover -the most grievous faults? They are the harmonious melody of painting; -whatever is offensive vanishes by their splendor, and souls animated with -their beauties are absorbed in beholding, as the readers of Homer are -by his flowing harmony, so as to find no faults. These, joined to that -important science of Chiaro-Oscuro, are the characteristicks of Flemish -painting. - -Agreeably to affect our eye is the first thing in a picture[50], which -to obtain, obvious charms are wanted; not such as spring only from -reflection. Colouring moreover belongs peculiarly to pictures; whereas -design ought to be in every draught, print, &c. and indeed seems easier -to be attained than colouring. - -The best colourists, according to a celebrated writer[51], have always -come _after_ the inventors and contourists; we all know the vain attempts -of the famous Poussin. In short, all those - - _Qui rem Romanam Latiumque augescere student,_ - - Ennius. - -must here acknowledge the superiority of the Flemish art; the painter -being really but nature’s mimick, is the more perfect the better he -mimicks her. - - _Ast heic, quem nunc tu tam turpiter increpuisti,_ - - Ennius. - -the delicate _Van der Werf_, whose performances, worth their weight -in gold, are the ornaments of royal cabinets only, has made nature -inimitable to every Italian pencil; he allures the connoisseur’s eye -as well as that of the clown; and, as an English poet says, “that no -pleasing poet ever wrote ill,” surely the Flemish painter obtained that -applause which was denied to Poussin. - -I should be glad to see many pictures as happily fancied, as well -composed, as enticingly painted as some of _Gherard Lairesse_: let me -appeal to every unprepossessed artist at Paris, acquainted with the -_Stratonice_, the most eminent, and no doubt the first ranked picture in -the cabinet of Mr. de la Boixieres[52]. - -The subject is of no trivial choice: King Seleucus I.[53] resigned -his wife Stratonice, a daughter of Demetrius Poliorcetes, to his son -Antiochus, whom a violent passion for his mother-in-law had thrown into -a dangerous sickness: after many unsuccessful inquiries, the physician -Erasistratus discovered the true cause, and found that the only means of -restoring the prince’s health, was, the condescension of the father to -the love of his son: the King resigned his Queen, and at the same time -declared Antiochus King of the East. - -Stratonice, the chief person, is the noblest figure, a figure worthy -Raphael himself. The charming Queen, - - _Colle sob idæo vincere digna deas,_ - - Ovid. Art. - -with slow and hesitating steps, approaches the bed of her new lover; but -still with the countenance of a mother, or rather of a sacred vestal. -In the profile of her face you may read shame mingled with gentle -resignation to the will of her lord. She has the softness of her sex, -the majesty of a queen, an awful submission to the sacred ceremony, and -all the sageness required in so extraordinary and delicate a situation. -Dressed with a masterly skill, the artist, from the colour of her -cloaths, may learn how to paint the purple of the ancients; for it is not -generally known that it resembled fadeing, ruddy, vine-leaves[54]. - -Behind her stands the King, dressed in a darker habit, in order to give -the more relief to the Queen, to spare confusion to her, shame to the -Prince, and not to interrupt his joy. Expectation and acquiescence are -blended in his face, which is taken from the profile of his best coins. - -The Prince, a beautiful half-naked youth, sitting in his bed, has some -resemblance of his father; his pale face bears witness of the fever, -that lately had raged in his veins; but fancy sees returning health, not -shame, in that soft-rising ruddiness diffused over his cheeks. - -The physician and priest Erasistratus, venerable like the Calchas of -Homer, standing before the bed, is the only speaker, authorised by the -King, whose will he declares to the Prince; and whilst, with one hand, he -leads the Queen to the embraces of her lover, with the other he presents -him with the diadem. Joy and astonishment flash from the Prince’s face -on the approach of his Queen - - ——_darting all the soul in missive love_: - -though nobly restrained by reverence, he bends his head, and seems to -comprise his happiness in a single thought. - -The characters indeed are distributed with so much ingenuity, that they -seem to give a lustre and energy to each other. - -The largest share of light is displayed on Stratonice: she claims our -first regard. The priest, though in a weaker light, is raised by his -gesture: he is the speaker, and around him reign solemn stillness and -attention. - -The Prince, the second person, has a larger share of light; and though -the artist, led by his skill, chose rather to make a beautiful Queen the -chief support of his groupe than a sick Prince, He nevertheless maintains -his due rank, and becomes the most eminent person of the whole, by his -expression. His face contains the greatest secrets of the art, - - _Quales nequeo monstrare & sentio tantum._ - - Juvenal. Sat. VII. - -Even those motions of the soul, which otherwise seem opposite to each -other, mingle here with peaceful harmony; a timid red spreading over his -sickly face, announces health, like the faint glimmerings of the morn, -which, though veiled by night, announce the day, and even a bright one. - -The genius and taste of the artist shines forth in every part of his -work: even the vases are copied from the best antique ones; the table -before the bed, is, like Homer’s, of ivory. - -The distances behind the figures represent a magnificent Greek building, -whose decorations seem allegorical. The roof of a portal is supported -by Cariatides embracing each other, as images of the tender friendship -between father and son, and alluding, at the same time, to the nuptial -ceremony. - -Though faithful to history, the painter was nevertheless a poet: in -order to represent some circumstances, he filled even the furniture with -sentiments. The Sphinxes by the Prince’s bed allude to his problematic -sickness, the enquiries of Erasistratus, and his sagacity in discovering -its true cause. - -I have been told that some young Italian artists, when considering this -picture, and perceiving the Prince’s arm perhaps a trifle too big, went -off without enquiring into the subject itself. Should even Minerva -herself, as she once did to Diomedes, attempt to deliver some people from -the mist they labour under, by heaven! the attempt were vain! - - ——_pauci dignoscere possunt_ - _Vera bona, atque illis multum diversa, remota_ - _Erroris nebula._ - - Juv. X. - -I have run into this long digression, in order to throw some light on one -of the first productions of the art, which is nevertheless but little -known. - -The idea of noble simplicity and sedate grandeur in Raphael’s figures, -might rather, as two eminent authors express it[55], be called “still -life.” It is indeed the standard of the Greek art: however, indiscreetly -commended to young artists, it might beget as dangerous consequences, as -precepts of energetick conciseness in the style; the direct method to -make it barren and unpleasing. - -“In youths, says Cicero[56], there must be some superfluity, something -to be taken off: prematurity spoils the juices, and it is easier to lop -the young rank branches of a vine, than to restore its vigour to a worn -out trunk.” Not to mention, that figures wanting gesture would, by the -bulk of mankind, be received as a speech before the Areopagites, where, -by a severe law, the speaker was forbid to raise any passions, though -ever so gentle[57]: nay, pictures of this kind would be so many portraits -of young Spartans, who, with hands hid under their coats, and down-cast -eyes, stalk forth in silent solemnity[58]. - -Neither am I quite of the author’s opinion with regard to allegory; the -applying of which would too frequently do in painting, what was done in -geometry by introducing algebra: the one would soon be as difficult as -the other, and painting would degenerate into Hieroglyphicks. - -The author attempts, in vain, to persuade us, that the majority of the -Greeks thought as the Egyptians. There was no more learning in the -painting of the platfond of the temple of Juno at Samos, than in that -of the Farnese gallery. It represented the love-intrigues of Jupiter -and Juno[59]: and, in the front of a temple of Ceres at Eleusis, there -was nothing but representations of a ceremony at the rites of that -goddess[60]. - -How to represent abstract ideas I do not yet distinctly conceive. -There may be the same difficulties which attend the endeavours of -representing to the senses a mathematical point—perhaps nothing less than -impossibility; and Theodoretus[61] has some reason in confining painting -to the senses. For those Hieroglyphicks which hint at abstract ideas, -in such a manner as to express, for instance[62], _youth_ by the number -XVI; _impossibility_ by two feet standing on water: those, I say, are -monograms, not images: to indulge them in painting is fostering chimæras, -is adding to Chinese pictures Chinese explications. - -An adversary of allegory believes that Parrhasius, without any help from -it, could represent the contradictions in the character of the Athenians; -that he did it perhaps in several pictures. Supposing which - - _Et sapit, & mecum facit, & Jove judicat æquo._ - - Hor. - -The sentence of death pronounced against the leaders of the Athenian -navy, after their victory over the Spartans near the Arginuses, afforded -the artist a very sensible and rich image, to represent the Athenians, at -the same time, merciful and cruel. - -The famous Theramenes, one of the leaders, accused his fellow-chieftains -of having neglected to gather and bury the bodies of their slain -countrymen: a charge sufficient to rouse the rage of the mob against -the victors; only six of whom had returned to Athens, the rest having -declined the storm. - -Theramenes harangued the people in the most pathetick manner; intermixing -his speech with frequent pauses, in order to give vent to the loud -plaints of those who, in the battle, had lost their parents or relations. -He, at the same time, produced a man, who protested he had heard the last -words of the drowned, imprecating the publick revenge on their leaders. -In vain did Socrates, then a member of the council, with a few others, -oppose the accusation: the brave chieftains, instead of the honours -they hoped for, were condemned to die. One of them was the only son of -_Pericles_ and _Aspasia_. - -Was it not in the power of Parrhasius, who was then alive, to enlarge the -meaning of his picture beyond the extent of bare history, only by drawing -the true characters of the authors of this scene, without the least help -from allegory? It would have been in his power, had he lived in our days. - -Your pretensions concerning allegory seem indeed as reasonable an -imposition upon the painter, as that of Columella upon his farmer; -who wished to find him a philosopher like Democritus, Pythagoras, or -Eudoxus[63]. - -No better success, in my opinion, is to be expected from applying -allegory to decorations: the author would, at least, meet with as many -difficulties as Virgil, when hammering on the names of a Vibius Caudex, -Tanaquil Lucumo, or Decius Mus; to fit them for his Hexameter. - -Custom has given its sanction to the use of shells in decorations: and -is not there as much nature in them as in the Corinthian capital? You -know its origin: a basket set upon the tomb of a young Corinthian girl, -filled with some of her play-things, and covered with a large brick, -being overgrown with the creeping branches of an acanthus, which had -taken root under it, was the first occasion of forming that capital. -_Callimachus_[64] the sculptor, surprized at the elegant simplicity of -that composition, took thence a hint for enriching architecture with a -new order. - -Thus this capital, destined to support all the entablature of the column, -is but a basket of flowers; something so apparently inconsistent with the -ideas of architecture, that there was no use made of it in the time of -Pericles: for Pocock[65] thinks it strange that the temple of Minerva at -Athens had Doric, instead of Corinthian pillars. But time soon changed -this seeming oddity into nature; the basket lost, by custom, all its -former offensiveness, and - - _Quod fuerat vitium desinit esse mora._ - - Ovid. Art. - -We acknowledge no Egyptian law to forbid arbitrary ornaments; and so -fond have the artists of all ages been, both of the growth and form of -shells, as to change even the chariot of Venus into an enormous one. The -ancile, that Palladium of the Romans, was scooped into the form of a -shell[66]: we find them on antique lamps[67]. Nay, nature herself seems -to have produced their immense variety, and marvellous sinuations, for -the benefit of the art. - -I have no mind to plead the bad cause of our unskilful decorators: only -let me adduce the arguments used by a whole tribe, (if the artists will -forgive the term), in order to prove the reasonableness of their art. - -The painters and sculptors of Paris, endeavouring to deprive the -decorators of the title of artists, by alledging that they employed -neither their own intellectual faculties, nor those of the connoisseurs, -upon works not produced by nature, but rather the offsprings of -capricious art; the others are said to have defended themselves in the -following manner: “We are the followers of nature: like the bark of a -tree, variously carved, our decorations grow into various forms: then art -joins sportive nature, and corrects her: we do what the ancients did: -consult their decorations.” - -Variety is the great and only rule to which decorators submit. Perceiving -that there is no perfect resemblance between two things in nature, -they likewise forsake it in their decorations; and careless of anxious -twining, leave it to the parts themselves to find their like, as the -atoms of Epicurus did. This liberty we owe to the very nation, which, -after having nobly exceeded all the narrow bounds of social formalities, -bestows so much pains upon communicating her improvements to her -neighbours. This style in decorations got the epithet of _Barroque_ -taste, derived from a word signifying pearls and teeth of unequal -size[68]. - -Shells have at least as good a claim for being admitted among our -decorations, as the heads of sheep and oxen. You know that the ancients -placed those heads, stript of the skin, on the frizes, especially of the -Doric order, between the Triglyphs, or on the Metopes. We even meet with -them on the Corinthian frise of an old temple of Vesta, at Tivoli[69]; -on tombs, as on one of the Metellus-family near Rome, and another of -Munatius Plancus near Gaeta[70]; on vases, as on a pair in the royal -cabinet at Dresden. Some modern artists, finding them perhaps unbecoming, -changed them into thunderbolts, like Vignola, or to roses, like Palladio -and Scamozzi[71]. - -We conclude from all this, that learning never had, nor indeed ought -to have, any share in an art so nearly related to what we call _Lusus -Naturæ_. - -Thus the ancients thought: for, pray, what could be meant by a lizard on -Mentor’s cup?[72] The - - _Picti squallentia terga lacerti_ - - Virg. G. IV. - -make, to be sure, a lovely image amidst the flowers of a Rachel Ruysch, -but a very poor figure on a cup. Of what mysterious meaning are birds -picking grapes from vines, on an urn?[73] Images, perhaps, as void of -sense, and as arbitrary, as the fable of Ganymede embroidered on the -mantle, which Æneas presented to Cloanthus, as a reward of his victory in -the naval games[74]. - -To conclude: is there any thing contradictory between trophies and -the hunting-house of a Prince? Surely the author, though so zealous a -champion for the Greek taste, cannot pretend to propose to us that of -King Philip and the Macedonians, who, by the account of Pausanias[75], -did not erect their own trophies. Diana perhaps, amidst her nymphs and -hunting-equipages, - - _Qualis in Eurotæ ripis, aut per juga Cynthi,_ - _Exercet Diana choros, quam mille secutæ,_ - _Hinc atque hinc glomerantur, Oreades_— - - Virg. - -might better suit the place; but we know that the antient Romans hung up -the arms of their defeated enemies over the out-sides of their doors, -to be everlasting monitors of bravery to every succeeding owner of the -house. Can trophies, having the same design, ever be misplaced on any -building of the Great? - -I wish for a speedy answer to this letter. You cannot be angry at seeing -it published. The tribe of authors now imitate the conduct of the stage, -where the lover, with his soliloquy, entertains the pit. For the same -reason I shall receive, with all my heart, an answer, - - _Quam legeret tereretque viritim publicus usus:_ - - Hor. - -for - - _Hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim._ - - Id. - - - - - AN - ACCOUNT - OF A - MUMMY, - IN - The Royal Cabinet of Antiquities at DRESDEN. - - -Among the Egyptian Mummies of the royal cabinet, there are two preserved -perfectly entire, and not in the least damaged, viz. the bodies of a -man and woman. The former, among all those that were brought into, and -publickly known in Europe, is perhaps the only one of its kind; on -account of an inscription thereon, which none of those who have written -on Mummies, except Della Valle alone, discovered on those bodies; and -Kircher, among all the drawings of Mummies communicated to him, and -published in his Oedipus, has but one, (the same which Della Valle had -been possessed of,) with an inscription; though his wooden cut[76] is as -faulty as all the copies made afterwards[77]. On that Mummy there are -these letters ΕΥ✠ΥΧΙ. - -This same inscription is on the royal Mummy, of which I propose to give a -brief account, and in examining which I have employed all my attention, -that I might be certain of its being genuine, and not drawn by a modern -hand from the inscription of Della Valle: for ’tis well known, that those -bodies frequently pass through the hands of Jews. But the letters are -evidently drawn with the same blackish colour with which the face, hands, -and feet are stained. The first letter on our Mummy has the form of a -large Greek ϵ, expressed by Della Valle with an E angular, the other not -being usual in printing-presses. - -All the four Mummies of the royal cabinet being bought at Rome, I -proposed to examine whether the Mummy with the inscription, was that -which Della Valle was possessed of, and found that both the entire royal -Mummies were exact resemblances of those described by him. - -Both, besides the linnen bandages, of a Barracan-texture, rolled -innumerable times around the bodies, are wrapt up in several (and, -according to an observation made in England[78], in three) kinds of -coarser linnen; which, by particular bandages of the girdle-kind, is -fastened in such a manner as to involve even the smallest prominence of -the face. The first covering is a nice bit of linnen, slightly tinged -with a certain ground, much gilt, decked with various figures, and with -a painted one of the deceased. - -On the Mummy marked with the inscription, this figure represents a -man, who died in the flower of life, with a thin curled beard, not -as represented by Kircher, like an old man with a long pointed one. -The colour of the face and hands is brown: the head encircled with -gilt diadems, marked with the sockets of jewels. From the gold chain, -painted around the neck, a sort of medal hangs down, marked with various -characters, crescents, &c. and this over-reaches the neck of a bird, that -of a hawk perhaps, as on the breasts of other Mummies[79]. In the right -hand of the figure is a dish filled with a red stuff, which being like -that used by the sacrificers[80], the deceased may be supposed to have -been a priest. The first and last finger of the left hand have rings; and -in the hand itself there is something round, of a dark-brown colour; -which, as Della Valle pretends, is a well-known fruit. The feet and legs -are bare, with sandals; the strings of which appearing between the great -toes, are, with a slip, fastened on the foot itself. - -The inscription, above-mentioned, is beneath the breast. - -The second Mummy is the still more refined figure of a young woman. -Among a great many medals, seemingly gilt, and other figures, there are -certain birds, and quadrupeds something analogous to lions; and towards -the extremities of the body there is an ox, perhaps an apis: Down from -one of the neck-chains hangs a gilt image of the sun. She has ear-rings, -and double bracelets on both her arms: rings on each hand, and on every -finger of the left one, but two on the first: whereas the right hand has -but two: with this hand she holds, like Isis, a small gilt vessel, of the -Greek Spondeion-kind, which was a symbol of the fertility of the Nile, -when held by the goddess[81]. In the left hand there is a sort of fruit, -like an ear of corn, of a greenish cast. The leaden seals, mentioned by -Della Valle, still remain on the first Mummy. - -Compare this description with that in his travels[82], and you’ll find -the Mummies of the royal cabinet to be the same with those, which were -taken out of a deep well or cave, covered with sand, and sold to this -celebrated traveller by an Egyptian; and I believe they were purchased -from his heirs at Rome, though in the manuscript catalogue, joined to -that cabinet of antiquities, there is not the least hint of any such -purchase. - -I have no design to attempt an explication of the ornaments and figures; -some remarks of that kind having already been made by Della Valle. The -following observations concern only the inscription. - -The Egyptians, we know, employed a double character in expressing -themselves[83], the _sacred_ and the _vulgar_: the first was what is -called hieroglyphick; the other contained the characters of their -national language, and this is commonly said to be lost. All we know is -confined to the twenty-five letters of their alphabet.[84] Della Valle -seems inclined to give an instance of the contrary, in that inscription; -which Kircher, pushing his conjectures still farther, endeavours to lay -down as a foundation for a new scheme of his; and to support it by two -other remains of the same kind. For, he attempts to prove[85], that -the dialect was the only difference between the old Egyptian and Greek -tongue. According to his talent of finding what no body looks for, he -makes free with some ancient historical accounts; upon which he obtrudes -a fictitious sense, in order to make them tally with his scheme. - -Herodotus, according to him, tells us, that King Psammetichus desired -some Greeks, who were perfect masters of their language, to go over to -Egypt, in order to instruct his people in the purity of the tongue. Hence -he concludes, that there was but one language in both countries. But that -Greek historian[86] gives an account entirely opposite: he tells us, that -Psammetichus, having received some services from the Carians and Ionians, -permitted them to settle in Egypt, for the instruction of youth in the -Greek language, in order to bring up interpreters. - -There is no solidity in the rest of the Kircherian arguments; such as -those deduced from the frequent voyages of the Greek sages into Egypt, -and the mutual commerce between the two nations; which have not even -the strength of conjectures. For the very skill of Democritus, in the -sacred tongue of the Babylonians and Egyptians[87], proves only, that the -travelling sages learned the languages of the nations they conversed with. - -Nor does the testimony of Diodorus, that Attica was originally an -Egyptian colony[88], seem to be here of any weight. - -The inscription of the Mummy might indeed admit of Kircherian, or such -like conjectures, were the Mummy itself of the antiquity pretended by -Kircher. Cambyses, the conqueror of Egypt, partly exiled, and partly -killed the priests; from which fact Kircher confidently deduces as -consequences, the total abolition of the sacred rites, and from that the -ceasing to embalm bodies. He again appeals to a passage of Herodotus[89], -which, upon his word alone, others have as confidently quoted. Nay, a -certain pedant went so far as to pretend, that the Egyptian custom of -painting their dead, upon the varnished linnen of the Mummies, ceased -with the epoch of Cyrus[90]. - -But Herodotus says not a word, either of the total abolition of the -sacred rites, or of the abolition of the custom of preserving the -dead from putrefaction, after the time of Cambyses; nor does Diodorus -Siculus give any such hint: we may, on the contrary, from his account of -the funeral rites of the Egyptians, rather conclude, that this custom -prevailed even in his time; that is to say, when Egypt was changed into a -Roman province. - -Hence it cannot be demonstrated that our Mummy was embalmed before the -Persian conquest.—But supposing it to be of that date, is it a necessary -consequence that a body preserved in the Egyptian manner, or even taken -care of by their priests, should be marked with Egyptian words? - -Perhaps it is the body of some naturalised Ionian or Carian. We know that -Pythagoras entered into the Egyptian confession; nay, even consented to -be circumcised[91], in order to shorten his way to the mysteries of their -priests. The Carians themselves observed the sacred solemnities of Isis, -and even went so far in their superstition, as to mangle their faces -during the sacrifices offered to that deity[92]. - -Change the letter ι, in the inscription, into the diphthong ει, and you -have a Greek word: such negligences are often to be met with in Greek -marbles[93], and still more in Greek manuscripts; and with the same -termination it is to be found on a gem, and signifies, “FAREWELL”[94], -which was the usual ejaculation addressed by the living to the deceased; -the same we meet with on ancient epitaphs[95]; public decrees[96]; and -of letters it was the final conclusion[97]. - -There is on an ancient epitaph the word ΕΥΨΥΧΙ[98]; the form of the Ψ on -ancient stones and manuscripts is exactly the same[99] with the third -letter of ΕΥ✠ΥΧΙ, which was perhaps confounded with it. - -But supposing the Mummy to be of later times, the adoption of a Greek -word becomes yet easier. The round form of the ϵ might be something -suspicious, with regard to its pretended antiquity; that form being never -found on the gems or coins before Augustus[100]. But this suspicion -becomes of no weight, by supposing that the Egyptians continued their -embalming, even after the time of that Emperor. - -However, the word cannot be an Egyptian one, being inconsistent with the -remains of that ancient tongue in the modern Coptick, as well as with -their manner of writing; which was from the right to the left, as the -Etrurians did[101]; whereas the word in question (like some Egyptian -characters[102],) is traced from the left to the right. As for the -inscription discovered by Maillet[103], no interpreter has yet been -found. The Grecians, on the contrary, wrote in the occidental manner, -for six hundred years before the christian æra, witness the Sigæan -inscription, which is said to be of that date[104]. - -What has been said relates also to an inscription upon a piece of -stone[105], with Egyptian figures, communicated to Kircher by Carolo -Vintimiglia, a Palerman patrician. The letters ΙΤΙΨΙΧΙ are two words, -and signify, “Let the soul come.” This stone has met with the same fate -as the gem engraved with the head of Ptolomæus Philopator: for here an -Egyptian has joined two random figures, and there the inscription may be -of a Greek hand. The litterati know what little change it wants to be -orthographical. - - - - - AN - ANSWER - TO THE FOREGOING - LETTER, - AND - A further EXPLICATION of the SUBJECT. - - -I could not presume that so small a treatise as mine would be thought -of consequence enough to be brought to a publick trial. As it was -written only for a few _connoisseurs_, it seemed superfluous to give it -a learned air, by multiplying quotations. Artists want but hints: their -task, according to an ancient Rhetor, is “to perform, not to peruse;” -consequently every author, who writes for them, ought to be brief. Being -besides convinced, that the beauties of the art are founded rather on a -quick sense, and refined taste, than on profound meditation, I cannot -help thinking that the principle of Neoptolemus[106], “to philosophize -only with the few,” ought to be the chief consideration in every treatise -of this kind. - -Several passages of my Essay are susceptible of explications, and, -having been publickly tried by an anonymous author, should be explained -and defended at the same time, if my circumstances would permit me to -enlarge[107]. As to his other remarks, the author, I hope, will guess at -my answer, without my giving one explicitly.—Indeed they do not require -any. - -I am not in the least moved by the clamours concerning those pieces of -_Corregio_, which, by undoubted accounts, were not only brought to -_Sweden_[108], but even hung up in the stables at _Stockholm_. Reasoning -is of no use here: arguments of this kind admit of no other evidence but -that of _Æmilius Scaurus_ against _Valerius_ of _Sucro_: “He denies; I -affirm: Romans! ’tis yours to judge.” - -And why should there be any thing more derogatory to the honour of the -Swedes, in my repeating Count _Tessin_’s relation, than in his giving -it? Perhaps, because the learned author of the circumstantial life of -Queen _Christina_ omits her indiscreet generosity towards _Bourdon_, -and that bad treatment which the pictures of _Corregio_ met with? or -was _Härleman_[109] himself charged with indiscretion or malice, on his -relating that, at _Lincöping_, he found a college, and seven professors, -but not one physician or artificer? - -It was my design to explain myself more particularly, concerning the -negligences of the Greeks, had I been allowed time. The Greeks, as their -criticism on the partridge of Protogenes, and his blotting it[110], -evidently shews, were not ignorant in learned negligence. But the Zeus -of Phidias was the standard of sublimity, the symbol of the omnipresent -Deity; like Homer’s Eris, he stood upon the earth, and reached heaven; -he was, in the style of sacred poesy, “_What encompasses him?_ &c.” And -the world has been candid enough to excuse, nay, even to justify on such -reasons, the disproportions in the Carton of Raphael, representing the -fishing of Peter[111]. The criticism on the _Diomedes_, though solid, -is not against me: his action, abstractedly considered, with his noble -and expressive contour, are standards of the art; and that was all I -advanced[112]. - -The reflections on the Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks may be -reduced to four heads, viz. - - I. The perfect Nature of the Greeks; - - II. The Characteristicks of their works; - - III. The Imitation of these; - - IV. Their manner of Thinking upon the Art; and Allegory. - -Probability was all I pretended to, with regard to the first; which -cannot be fully demonstrated, notwithstanding all the assistance of -history. For, these advantages of the Greeks were, perhaps, less founded -on their nature, and the influences of the climate, than on their -education. - -The happy situation of their country was, however, the basis of all; and -the want of resemblance, which was observed between the Athenians and -their neighbours beyond the mountains, was owing to the difference of -air and nourishment[113]. - -The manners and persons of the new-settled inhabitants, as well as the -natives of every country, have never failed of being influenced by their -different natures. The ancient Gauls, and their successors the German -Franks, are but one nation: the blind fury, by which the former were -hurried on in their first attacks, proved as unsuccessful to them in the -times of Cæsar[114], as it did to the latter in our days. They possessed -certain other qualities, which are still in vogue among the modern -French; and the Emperor Julian[115] tells us, that in his time there were -more dancers than citizens at Paris. - -Whereas the Spaniards, managing their affairs cautiously, and with a -certain frigidity, kept the Romans longer than any other people from -conquering the country[116]. - -And is not this character of the old Iberians re-assumed by the -West-Goths, the Mauritanians, and many other people, who over-ran their -country?[117] - -It is easy to be imagined what advantages the Greeks, having been subject -to the same influences of climate and air, must have reaped from the -happy situation of their country. The most temperate seasons reigned -through all the year, and the refreshing sea-gales fanned the voluptuous -islands of the Ionick sea, and the shores of the continent. Induced by -these advantages, the Peloponnesians built all their towns along the -coast; see Dicearchus, quoted by Cicero[118]. - -Under a sky so temperate, nay balanced between heat and cold, the -inhabitants cannot fail of being influenced by both. Fruits grow ripe -and mellow, even such as are wild improve their natures; animals thrive -well, and breed more abundantly. “Such a sky, says Hippocrates[119], -produces not only the most beautiful of men, but harmony between their -inclinations and shape.” Of which Georgia, that country of beauty, -where a pure and serene sky pours fertility, is an instance[120]. Among -the elements, beauty owes so much to water alone, that, if we believe -the Indians, it cannot thrive, in a country that has it not in its -purity[121]. And the Oracle itself attributes to the lymph of Arethusa a -power of forming beauty[122]. - -The Greek tongue affords us also some arguments in behalf of their -frame. Nature moulds the organs of speech according to the influences -of the climate. There are nations that rather whistle than speak, like -the Troglodytes[123]; others that pronounce without opening their -lips[124]; and the Phasians, a Greek people, had, as has been said of the -English[125], a hoarse voice: an unkind climate forms harsh sounds, and -consequently the organs of speech cannot be very delicate. - -The superiority of the Greek tongue is incontestible: I do not speak now -of its richness, but only of its harmony. For all the northern tongues, -being over-loaded with consonants[126], are too often apt to offend -with an unpleasing austerity; whereas the Greek tongue is continually -changing the consonant for the vowel, and two vowels, meeting with but -one consonant, generally grow into a diphthong[127]. The sweetness of the -tongue admits of no word ending with these three harsh letters Θ, Φ, Χ, -and for the sake of Euphony, readily changes letters for their kindred -ones. Some seemingly harsh words cannot be objected here; none of us -being acquainted with the true Greek or Roman pronunciation. All these -advantages gave to the tongue a flowing softness, brought variety into -the sounds of its words, and facilitated their inimitable composition. -And from these alone, not to mention the measure which, even in common -conversation, every syllable enjoyed, a thing to be despaired of in -occidental tongues; from these alone, I say, we may form the highest idea -of the organs by which that tongue was pronounced, and may more than -conjecture, that, by the language of the _Gods_, Homer meant the Greek, -by that of _Men_, the Phrygian tongue. - -It was chiefly owing to that abundance of vowels, that the Greek tongue -was preferable to all others, for expressing by the sound and disposition -of its words the forms and substances of things. The discharge, the -rapidity, the diminution of strength in piercing, the slowness in -gliding, and the stopping of an arrow, are better expressed by the sound -of these three verses of Homer, Iliad Δ. - - 125. Λίγξε βιὸς, νευρὴ δε μέγ’ ἴαχεν, ἆλτο δ’ ὀϊστὸς[128] - - 135. Διὰ μέν ἂρ’ ζωστῆρος ἐλήλατο δαιδαλέοιο, - - 136. Καὶ διὰ θωρηκος πολυδαιδάλου ἠρήρειστο, - -than even by the words themselves. You see it discharged, flying through -the air, and piercing the belt of Menelaus. - -The description of the Myrmidons in battle-array, Iliad Π. v. 215. - - Ἀσπὶς ἄρ’ ἀσπίδ’ ἔρειδε, κόρυς κόρυν ἀνέρα δ’ ἀνήρ. - -is of the same kind, and has never been hit by any imitation: what -beauties in one line! - -Plato’s periods were, from their harmony, compared[129] to a noiseless -smooth-running stream. But we should be mistaken in confining the tongue -to the softer harmonies only: it became a roaring torrent, boisterous as -the winds by which Ulysses’ sails were torn, split only in three or four -places by the words, but rent by the sound into a thousand tatters[130]. -This was the “_vivida expressio_,” the living sound; supremely beautiful, -when properly and sparingly used! - -How quick, how refined must the organs have been, which were the -depositaries of such a tongue! The Roman itself could not attain its -excellence: nay, a Greek father, of the second century of the christian -æra[131], complains of the horrid sound of the Roman laws. - -Nature keeps proportion; consequently the frame of the Greeks was of a -fine clay, of nerves, and muscles most sensibly elastic, and promoting -the flexibility of the body: hence that easiness, that pliant facility, -accompanied with mirth and vigour, which animated all their actions. -Imagine bodies most nicely balanced between leanness and corpulency: -both extremes were ridiculed by the Greeks, and their poets sneer at the -Philesiases[132], Philetases[133], and Agoracrituses[134]. - -But though they were beautiful, and by their law early initiated into -pleasure, they were not effeminate Sybarites. As an instance of which -we shall only repeat what Pericles pleaded in favour of the Athenian -manners, against those of Sparta, which were as different from those -of the rest of Greece, as their public oeconomy was: “The Spartans, -says Pericles, employ their youth to get, by violent exercises, manly -strength: but we, though living indolently, encounter every danger as -well as they; calmly, not anxiously, mindful of its approaches, we meet -it with voluntary magnanimity, and without any compulsion of the law. Not -disconcerted by its impending threats, we meet its most furious attacks, -with no less boldness than they, whom perpetual practice has prepared for -its strokes. We are fond of elegance, without loving finery; of genius, -without being emasculate. In short, to be fit for every great enterprize, -is the characteristic of the Athenians[135].” - -I cannot, nor will I pretend to fix a rule without allowing exceptions. -There was a Thersites in the army of the Greeks. But it is worth -observing, that the beauty of a nation was always in proportion to their -cultivation of the arts. Thebes, wrapt up in a misty sky, produced a -sturdy uncouth race[136],[137]according to Hippocrates’s observation on -fenny, watry soils[138]; and its sterility in producing men of genius, -Pindar only excepted, is an old reproach. Sparta was as defective in this -respect as Thebes, having only Alcman to boast of; but the reasons were -different: whereas Attica enjoyed a pure and serene sky, which refined -the senses[139], and of course shaped their bodies in proportion to that -refinement; and Athens was the seat of arts. The same remark may be made -with regard to Sicyon, Corinth, Rhodes, Ephesus, &c. all which having -been schools of the arts, could not want convenient models. The passage -of Aristophanes, insisted on in the letter[140], I take for a joke, as -it really is—and thereby hangs a tale: to have the parts, whereon - - _Sedet æternumque sedebit_ - _Infelix Theseus,_ - - Virg. - -moderately complete, were Attick beauties. Theseus[141], made prisoner by -the Thesprotians, was delivered from his captivity by Hercules, but not -without some loss of the parts in question; a loss bequeathed to all his -race. This was the true mark of the Thesean pedigree; as a natural mark, -representing a spear[142], signified a Spartan extraction; and we find -the Greek artists imitating in those places the sparing hand of nature. - -But this liberality of nature was confined to Greece, in a narrower -sense. Its colonies underwent the same fate, which its eloquence met with -when going abroad. “As soon, says Cicero[143], as eloquence set out from -the Athenian port, she plumed herself with the manners of all the islands -in her way, adopted the Asiatick luxury, and forsaking her sound Attick -expression, lost her health.” The Ionians, transplanted by Nileus from -Greece into Asia, after the return of the Heraclides, grew still more -voluptuous beneath that glowing sky. Heaps of vowels brought wantonness -into every word; the neighbouring islands partook of their climate and -manners, which a single Lesbian coin may convince us of[144]. No wonder -then, if their bodies degenerated as much from those of their ancestors, -as their manners. - -The remoter the colonies the greater the difference. Those Greeks, who -had chosen their abode in Africa, about _Pithicussa_, fell in with the -natives in adoring apes; nay, even gave the names of those animals to -their children[145]. - -The modern Greeks, though composed of various mingled metals, still -betray the chief mass. Barbarism has destroyed the very elements of -science, and ignorance over-clouds the whole country; education, courage, -manners are sunk beneath an iron sway, and even the shadow of liberty is -lost. Time, in its course, dissipates the remains of antiquity: pillars -of Apollo’s temple at Delos[146], are now the ornaments of English -gardens: the nature of the country itself is changed. In days of yore the -plants of Crete[147] were famous over all the world; but now the streams -and rivers, where you would go in quest of them, are mantled with wild -luxuriant weeds, and trivial vegetables[148]. - -Unhappy country! How could it avoid being changed into a wilderness, when -such populous tracts of land as Samos, once mighty enough to balance the -Athenian power at sea, are reduced to hideous desarts[149]! - -Notwithstanding all these devastations, the forlorn prospect of the soil, -the free passage of the winds, stopped by the inextricable windings of -entangled shores, and the want of almost all other commodities; yet have -the modern Greeks preserved many of the prerogatives of their ancestors. -The inhabitants of several islands, (the Greek race being chiefly -preserved in the islands), near the Natolian shore, especially the -females, are, by the unanimous account of travellers, the most beautiful -of the human race[150]. - -Attica still preserves its air of philanthropy[151]: all the shepherds -and clowns welcomed the two travellers, Spon and Wheeler; nay, prevented -them with their salutations[152]: neither have they lost the Attick salt, -or the enterprising spirit of the former inhabitants[153]. - -Objections have been made against their early exercises, as rather -derogating from, than adding to, the beauteous form of the Greek youths. - -Indeed, the continual efforts of the nerves and muscles seem rather to -give an angular gladiatorial turn, than the soft Contour of beauty, to -youthful bodies. But this may partly be answered by the character of the -nation itself: their fancy, their actions, were easy and natural; their -affairs, as Pericles says, were managed with a certain carelessness, and -some of Plato’s dialogues[154] may give us an idea of that mirth and -chearfulness which prevailed in all the Gymnastick exercises of their -youth. Hence his desire of having these places, in his commonwealth, -frequented by old folks, in order to remind them of the joys of their -youth[155]. - -Their games commonly began at sun rise[156]; and Socrates frequented -them at that time. They chose the morning-hours, in order to avoid being -incommoded by the heat: as soon as their garments were laid down, the -body was anointed with the elegant Attick oil, partly to defend it from -the bleak morning-air; as it was usual to practice, even during the -severest cold[157]; and partly to prevent a too copious perspiration, -where it was intended only to carry off superfluous humours[158]. To -this oil they ascribed also a strengthening quality[159]. The exercises -being over, they went to bathe, and there submitted to a fresh unction; -and a person leaving the bath in this state “appears, says Homer, taller, -stronger, and similar to the immortal Gods[160].” - -We may form a very distinct idea of the different kinds and degrees of -wrestling among the ancients, from a vase once in the possession of -Charl. Patin, and, as he guesses, the urn of a gladiator[161]. - -Had it been a prevailing custom among the Greeks to walk, either -barefooted, like the heroes in their performances[162], or with a single -sole, as we commonly believe, their feet must have been bruised. But -there are many instances of their extreme nicety in this respect; for, -they had names for above ten different sorts of shoes[163]. - -The coverings of the thighs were thrown off at the publick exercises, -even before the flourishing of the art[164]; which was a great advantage -to the artists. As for the nourishment of the wrestlers in remoter times, -I found it more proper to mention milk in general, than soft cheese. - -If I remember right, you think it strange, and even undemonstrable, that -the primitive church should have dipped their proselytes, promiscuously: -consult the note[165]. - -As I am now entering upon the discussion of my second point, I could wish -that these probabilities of a more perfect nature, among the Greeks, -might be allowed to have some conclusive weight; and then I should have -but a few words to add. - -_Charmoleos_, a Megarian youth, a single kiss of whom was valued at two -talents[166], was, no doubt, beautiful enough to serve for a model of -_Apollo_: Him, _Alcibiades_, _Charmides_, and _Adimanthus_[167], the -artists could see and study to their wish for several hours every day: -and can you imagine those trifling opportunities proposed to the Parisian -artists, equivalents for the loss of advantages like these? But granting -that, pray, what is there to be seen more in a swimmer than in any other -person? The extremities of the body you may see every where. As for that -author[168], who pretends to find in France beauties superior to those -of _Alcibiades_, I cannot help doubting his ability to maintain what he -asserts. - -What has been said hitherto might also answer the objection drawn from -the judgment of our academies, concerning those parts of the body which -ought to be drawn rather more angular than we find them in the antiques. -The Greeks, and their artists, were happy in the enjoyment of figures -endowed with youthful harmony; for, we have no reason to doubt their -exactness in copying nature, if we only consider the angular smartness -with which they drew the wrist-bones. _Agasias_’s celebrated _Gladiator_, -in the _Borghese_, has none of the modern angles, nor the bony -prominences authorised by our artists: all his angular parts are those we -meet with in the other Greek statues. And this statue, which was perhaps -one of those that were erected, in the very places where the games were -held, to the memory of the several victors, may be supposed an exact -copy of nature. The artist was bound to represent any victor in the very -attitude, and instantaneous motion, in which he overcame his antagonist, -and the _Amphictyones_ were the judges of his performance[169]. - -Many authors having written on this, and the following point of the -treatise, I have contented myself with giving a few remarks of my own. -Superficial arguments, in matters of this kind, can neither suit the -deeper views of our times, nor lead to general conclusions. Nevertheless -we do not want authors whose premature decisions often get the better of -their judgment, and that not in matters concerning the art alone. Pray, -what decisions of an author may be depended upon, who, when designing to -write on the arts in general, shews himself so ignorant of their very -elements, as to ascribe to _Thucydides_, whose concise and energetick -style was not without difficulties, even for _Tully_[170], the character -of simplicity?[171] Another of that tribe, seems as little acquainted -with _Diodorus Siculus_, when he describes him as hunting after -elegance[172]. Nor want we blockheads enough who admire, in the ancient -performances, such trifles as are below any reasonable man’s attention. -“The rope, says a travelling scribler, which ties together Dirce and the -ox, is to connoisseurs the most beautiful object of the whole groupe of -the Toro Farnese[173].” - - _Ah miser ægrota putruit cui mente salillum!_ - -I am no stranger to those merits of the modern artists which you oppose -to the ancients: but at the same time I know, that the imitation of these -alone has elevated the others to that pitch of merit; and it would be -easy to prove that, whenever they forsook the ancients, they fell into -the faults of those, whom alone I intended to blame. - -Nature undoubtedly misled Bernini: a _Carita_ of his, on the monument -of Pope Urban the VIIIth, is said to be corpulent, and another on that -of Alexander the VIIth, even ugly[174]. Certain it is, that no use -could be made of the Equestrian statue of Lewis XIV. on which he had -bestowed fifteen years, and the King immense sums. He was represented -as ascending, on horseback, the mount of honour: but the action both of -the rider and of the horse was exaggerated, and too violent; which was -the cause of baptizing it a Curtius plunging into the gulph, and its -having been placed only in the Thuilleries: from which we may infer, -that the most anxious imitation of nature is as little sufficient for -attaining beauty, as the study of anatomy alone for attaining the justest -proportions: these Lairesse, by his own account, took from the skeletons -of Bidloo; but, though a professor in his art, committed many faults, -which the good Roman school, especially Raphael, cannot be charged with. -However, it is not meant that there is no heaviness in his Venus; nor -does it clear him from the faults imputed to him in the Massacre of the -Innocents, engraved by Marc. Antonio, as has been attempted in a very -rare treatise on painting[175]; for there the female figures labour -under an exuberance of breasts; whereas the murderers look ghastly with -leanness: a contrast not to be admired: the sun itself has spots. - -Let Raphael be imitated in his best manner, and when in his prime; those -works want no apology: it was to no purpose to produce Parrhasius and -Zeuxis in order to excuse Him, and the Dutch proportions! ’Tis true, the -passage of Pliny[176], which you quote concerning Parrhasius, meets -commonly with the same interpretation, viz. _that, shunning corpulency -he fell into leanness_[177]. But supposing Pliny to have understood what -he wrote, we must clear him of contradicting himself. A little before -he allowed to Parrhasius a superiority in the contour, or in his own -words, _in the outlines_; and in the passage before us, _Parrhasius, -compared with himself, seems, in POINT OF THE MIDDLE PARTS, to fall short -of himself_. The question is, what he means by middle parts? Perhaps -the parts bordering on the outlines: but is not the designer obliged to -know every possible attitude of the frame, every change of its contour? -If so, it is ridiculous to give this explication to our passage: for -the middle parts of a full face are the outlines of its profile, and -so on. Consequently, there is no such thing as middle parts to be met -with by a designer: the idea of a painter, well-skilled in the contour -of the outlines, but ignorant of their contents, is an absurd one. -Parrhasius perhaps either wanted skill in the Chiaroscuro, or Keeping -in the disposition of his limbs, and this seems the only explication, -which the words of Pliny can reasonably admit of. Unless we choose to -make him another La Fage, who, though a celebrated designer, never -failed spoiling his contours with his colours. Or, perhaps, to indulge -another conjecture, Parrhasius smoothed the outlines of his contour, -where it bordered on the grounds, in order to avoid being rough; a fault -committed, as it seems, by his contemporaries, and by the artists who -flourished in the beginning of the sixteenth century, who circumscribed -their figures, as it were with a knife; but those smooth contours wanted -the support of keeping, and of masses gradually rising or sinking, in -order to become round, and to strike the eye: by failing in which, -his figures got an air of flatness; and thus Parrhasius fell short of -himself, without being either too corpulent or too lean. - -We cannot conclude, from the Homeric shape which Zeuxis gave his female -figures, that he raised them, like Rubens, into flesh-hills. There is -some reason to believe, from the education of the Spartan ladies, that -they had something of a masculine vigour, though they were the chief -beauties of Greece; and such a one is the Helena of Theocritus. - -All this makes me doubt of finding among the ancients any companion for -Jacob Jordans, though he is so zealously defended in your letter. Nor am -I afraid of maintaining what I have said concerning him. Mr. d’Argenville -is indeed a very industrious collector of criticisms upon the artists; -but as his design is not very extensive, so his decisions are often too -general, to afford us characteristical ideas of his heroes. - -A good eye must be allowed to be a better judge, in matters of this kind, -than all the ambiguous decisions of authors: and to fix the character -of Jordans, I might content myself with appealing to his Diogenes, -and the Purification, in the royal cabinet at Dresden. But, for the -reader’s sake, let me inquire into the meaning of what you call _Truth_ -in painting. For if truth, in the general sense, can by no means be -excluded from any branch of the arts, we have, in the decision of Mr. -d’Argenville, a riddle to unfold, which, if it has any meaning at all, -must have the following: - -Rubens, enabled by the inexhaustible fertility of his genius, to -pour forth fictions like Homer himself, displays his riches even to -prodigality: like him he loved the marvellous, as well in thought and -grandeur of conception, as in composition, and chiar’-oscuro. His -figures are composed in a manner unknown before him, and his lights, -jointly darting upon one great mass, diffuse over all his works a bold -harmony, and amazing spirit. Jordans, a genius of a lower class, cannot, -in the ideal part of painting, by any means be compared with his great -master. He had no wings to soar above nature; for which reason he humbly -followed, and painted her as he found her: and if this be _truth_, he, no -doubt, had a larger share of it than Rubens. - -If the modern artists, with regard to forms and beauty, are not to be -directed by antiquity, there is no authority left to influence them. -Some, in painting Venus, would give her a Frenchified air[178]; another -would present her with an Aquiline nose, the Medicean Venus, as they -would say, having such a one[179]: her hands would be provided with -spindles instead of fingers; and she would ogle us with Chinese eyes, -like the beauties of a new Italian school. Every artist, in short, would, -by his performance, betray his country: but, as Democritus says[180], -if the artists ought to pray the gods to let them meet with none but -auspicious images, those of the ancients will best suit their wishes. - -Let us, however, make some exception in favour of Fiamingo’s children. -For, lustiness and full health being the common burden of the praises of -children, whose infant forms are not strictly susceptible of that beauty, -which belongs to the steadiness of riper years; the imitation of his -children has reasonably become a fashion among our artists. But neither -this, nor the indulgence of the academy at Vienna, can be, or indeed was -meant to be decisive, in favour of the modern children; it only leads us -to make a distinction. The ancients went beyond nature, even in their -children: the moderns only follow her; and, provided their infant forms, -exuberant as they are, do not influence their ideas of youthful and riper -bodies, they may be allowed to be in the right, though, at the same time, -the ancients were not in the wrong. - -Our artists are, likewise, at full liberty to dress the hair of their -figures as they please: but, being so fond of nature, they, must needs -know, that it is nature which shades, with pendant locks, the forehead -and temples of all those, whose life is not spent between the comb and -the looking-glass: and finding this manner carefully observed in most -statues of the ancients, they may take it as a proof of their attachment -to simplicity and truth; a proof of the more weight, as they did not want -people, busier in adorning their bodies than their minds, and as nice -in adjusting their hair, as the most elegant of our European courtiers. -But it was commonly looked upon as a mark of an ingenuous and noble -extraction, to dress the hair in the manner of the statues[181]. - -The imitation of the ancient contour has indeed never been rejected, not -even by those whose chief want was that of correctness: but we differ -about imitating that “noble simplicity and sedate grandeur” in their -works. An expression which hath seldom met with general approbation, and -never pronounced without hazard of being misunderstood. - -In the Hercules of Bandinelli, the idea of it was deemed a fault[182]: an -usurpation in Raphael’s Massacre of the Innocents[183]. - -The idea of “nature at rest,” I own, might, perhaps, produce figures like -the young Spartans of Xenophon; nor would the bulk of mankind be better -pleased with performances in the taste of my treatise, (supposing even -all its precepts authorised by the judges of the art) than with a speech -made before the Areopagites. But it is not on the bulk of mankind that -we ought to confer the legislative power in the art. And though works of -an extensive composition ought certainly to have the support of a vigour -and spirit proportioned to their extent, yet there are limits which must -not be overleapt: use not so much spirit as to represent the everlasting -Father like the cruel God of war, or an ecstasied saint like a priestess -of Bacchus. - -Indeed, in the eyes of one unacquainted with this characteristick of -the sublime, a Madonna of Trevisani will seem preferable to that of -Raphael in the royal cabinet at Dresden. I know that even artists were -of opinion, that its being placed so near one of the former, was not a -little disadvantageous to it. Hence it seemed not superfluous to enquire -into the true grandeur of that inestimable picture, as it is the only -production of this Apollo of painters, that Germany is possessed of. - -No comparison, indeed, is to be made of its composition with that of the -transfiguration; which, however, I think fully compensated by its being -genuine: whereas Julio Romano might perhaps claim one half of the other -as his own. The difference of the hands is visible: but in the Madonna, -the spirit of that epoch, in which Raphael performed his Athenian school, -shines with so full a lustre, as to make even the authority of Vasari -superfluous. - -’Tis no easy matter to convince a critick, conceited enough to blame the -Jesus of the Madonna, that he is mistaken. Pythagoras, says an antient -philosopher[184], and Anaxagoras look at the sun with different eyes: the -former sees a God, the latter a stone. We want but experience to discover -truth and beauty in the faces of Raphael, without enquiring into their -dignity: beauty pleases, but serious graces charm[185]. Such are the -beauties of the ancients, which gave that serious air to Antinous, which -we generally ascribe to his shading locks. Sudden raptures, or the -enticement of a glance, are often momentary; let an attentive eye dwell -upon those confused beauties which the transient look conveys, and the -paint will vanish. True charms owe their durability to reflection, and -hidden graces allure our enquiries: reluctant and unsatisfied we leave a -coy beauty, in continual admiration of some new-fancied charm: and such -are the beauties of Raphael and the ancients; not agreeably trifling -ones, but regular and full of real graces[186]. By that Cleopatra became -the beauty of all ensuing ages: nobody[187] was astonished at her face, -but her air engaged every eye, and subdued the melted heart. A French -Venus at her toilet is much like Seneca’s wit: which, if put to the test, -disappears[188]. - -The comparison of Raphael and some of the most celebrated Dutch, and -new Italian painters, concerns only the management, (_Trattamento_). -The endeavours of the former of these, to hide the laborious industry -that appears in all their works, gives an additional sanction to my -judgment; for, hiding is labour. The most difficult part in performances -of the arts, is to spread an air of easiness, the “UT SIBI QUIVIS” over -them[189]; of which, among the ancients, the pictures of Nicomachus were -entirely destitute[190]. - -All this, however, is not meant to derogate from Vanderwerf’s superior -merit: his works give a lustre even to the cabinets of kings. He diffused -over them an inconceivable polish; every trace of his pencil, one would -think, is molten; and, in the colliquation of his tints, there reigns but -one predominant colour. He might be said to have enamelled rather than -painted. - -His works indeed please. But does the character of painting consist in -pleasing alone? Denner’s bald pates please likewise. But what, do you -imagine, would the wise ancients think of them? Plutarch, from the mouth -of some Aristides or Zeuxis, would tell him, that beauty never dwells in -wrinkles[191]. - -’Tis said, the Emperor Charles VI. when he first saw one of Denner’s -pictures, was loud in its praise, and in admiration of his industry. -The painter was immediately desired to make a fellow to the first, and -was magnificently rewarded: but the Emperor, comparing each of them -with some pieces of Rembrandt and Vandyke, declared, “that having now -satisfied his curiosity, he would on no account have any more from this -artist.” An English nobleman was of the same opinion: for being shewn -a picture of Denner’s, “You are in the wrong, said he, if you believe -that our nation esteems performances, which owe their merits to industry -rather than to genius.” - -I am far from applying these remarks to Vanderwerf; the difference -between him and Denner is too great: I only joined them in order to -prove, that a picture which only pleases can no more pretend to universal -approbation than a poem. No; their charms must be durable; but here -we meet with causes of disgust in the very parts, where the painter -endeavoured to please us. - -Those parts of nature that are beyond observation, were the chief -objects of these painters: they were particularly cautious of changing -the situation even of the minutest hair, in order to surprize the most -sharp-sighted eye with all the microcosm of nature. They may be compared -to those disciples of Anaxagoras, who placed all human wisdom in the palm -of the hand—but mark, as soon as they attempt to stretch their art beyond -these limits, to draw larger proportions, or the nudities, the painter -appears - - _Infelix operis summâ, quia ponere totum nescit._ - - Hor. - -Design is as certainly the painter’s first, second, and third requisite, -as action is that of the orator. - -I readily allow the solidity of your remarks, concerning the “reliefs” -of the ancients. In my treatise I myself charged them with a want of -sufficient skill in perspective; and hence the faults in their reliefs. - -The fourth point chiefly concerns _Allegory_. - -In painting we commonly call fiction allegory: for, though imitation -arises from the very principles of painting as well as of poetry, -it constitutes, by itself, neither of them[192]. A picture, without -allegory, is but a vulgar image, and resembles Davenant’s Gondibert, an -epopée without fiction. - -Colouring and design are to painting what metre and truth, or the fable, -are to poetry; a body without soul. Poetry, says Aristotle, was first -inspired with its soul, with fiction, by Homer; and with that the painter -must animate his work. Design and colouring are the fruits of attention -and practice: perspective and composition, in the strictest sense, are -established on fixed rules; they are of course but mechanical; and, if -I may be allowed the expression, only mechanical souls are wanting to -understand and to admire them. - -Pleasures in general, save only those which rob the bulk of mankind -of their invaluable treasure, time, become durable, and are free from -tediousness and disgust, in proportion as they engage our intellectual -faculties. Mere sensual sentiments soon languish; they do not influence -our reason: such is the delight we take in the common landscape, flower, -and fruit paintings: the artist, in performing them, thinks but very -little; and the connoisseur, in considering them, thinks no more. - -A mere history-piece differs from a landscape only in the object: in the -former you draw facts and persons, in the latter, sky, land, seas, &c. -both, of course, being founded on the same principle, imitation, are -essentially but of one kind. - -If it be not a contradiction to stretch the limits of painting, as far as -those of poetry, and consequently, to allow the painter the same ability -of elevating himself to the pitch of the poet as the musician enjoys; it -is clear that history, though the sublimest branch of painting, cannot -raise itself to the heighths of tragick or epick poetry, by imitation -alone. - -Homer, as Cicero tells us[193], has transformed man into God: which is -to say; he not only exceeded truth, but, to raise his fiction, preferred -even the impossible, if probable, to the barely possible[194]. In this -Aristotle fixes the very essence of poetry, and tells us that the -pictures of Zeuxis had that characteristick. The possibility and truth, -which Longinus requires of the painter, as opposites to absurdity in -poetry, are not contradictory to this rule. - -This heighth the history-painter cannot reach, only by a contour above -common nature, or a noble expression of the passions: for these are -requisite in a good portrait-painter, who is able to execute them -without diminishing the likeness of his model. They are but imitation, -only prudently managed. The heads of Vandyke are charged with too -exact an observation of nature; an exactness that would be faulty in a -history-piece. - -Truth, lovely as it is in itself, charms more, penetrates deeper, when -invested with fiction: fable, in its strictest sense, is the delight of -childhood; allegory that of riper years. And the old opinion, that poetry -was of earlier date than prose, as unanimously attested by the annals -of different people, makes it evident, that even in the most barbarous -times, truth was preferred, when appearing in this dress. - -Our understanding, moreover, labours under the fault of bestowing its -attention chiefly on things, whose beauties are not to be perceived at -first sight, and of inadvertently slighting others, because clear as -day: images of this kind, like a ship on the waves, leave but momentary -traces in our memory. Hence the ideas of our childhood are the most -permanent, because every common occurrence then seems extraordinary. -Thus, if nature herself instructs us, that she is not to be moved by -common things, let art, as the Orator, ad Herennium, advises us, follow -her dictates. - -Every idea increases in strength, if accompanied by another or more -ideas, as in comparisons; and the more still as they differ in kind: for -ideas, too analogous to each other, do not strike: as for instance, a -white skin compared to snow. Hence the power of discovering a similarity, -in the most different things, is what we commonly call wit; Aristotle, -“unexpected ideas”: and these he requires in an orator[195]. The more you -are surprized by a picture, the more you are affected; and both those -effects are to be obtained by allegory, like to fruit hid beneath leaves -and branches, which when found surprizes the more agreeably, the less it -was thought of. The smallest composition is susceptible of the sublimest -powers of art: all depends upon the idea. - -Necessity first taught the artists to use allegory. No doubt, they began -with the representation of single objects of one class: but as they -improved, they attempted to express what was common to many particulars; -_i. e._ general ideas. All the qualities of single objects afford such -ideas: but to become general, and at the same time sensible, they cannot -preserve the particular shape of such or such an object, but must be -submitted to another shape, essential to that object, but a general one. - -The Egyptians were the first, who went in search of images of that kind. -Such were their hieroglyphicks. All the deities of antiquity, especially -those of Greece, nay, their very names, were originally Egyptian[196]. -Their personal theology was quite allegorical; and so is ours. But the -symbols of these inventors, partly preserved by the Greeks, were often so -mysteriously arbitrary, as to make it altogether impossible to find out -their meaning, even by the help of those authors that are still extant; -and such a discovery was looked upon as a nefarious profanation[197]. -Thus sacredly mysterious was the pomegranate[198] in the hand of the -Samian Juno: and to divulge the Eleusinian rites, was thought worse than -the robbery of a temple[199]. - -The relation of the sign to the thing signified, was in some measure -founded on the known or pretended qualities of the latter. The Egyptian -Horsemarten was of that kind; an image of the sun, because his species -was said to have no female, and to live six months under and six above -ground[200]. In like manner the cat, being supposed to bring forth a -number of kittens equal to that of the days in a month, became the symbol -of Isis, or the moon[201]. - -The Greeks, on the contrary, endowed with more wit, and undoubtedly with -more sensibility, made use of no signs but such as had a true relation -to the thing signified, or were most agreeable to the senses: all their -deities they invested with human forms[202]. Wings, among the Egyptians, -were the symbol of eager and effectual services; a symbol conformable to -their nature, and continued by the Greeks: and if the Attick _Victoria_ -had none, it was meant to signify, that she had chosen Athens for her -abode[203]. A goose, among the Egyptians, was the symbol of a cautious -leader; in consequence of which the prows of their ships were formed like -geese[204]. This the Greeks preserved also, and the ancient _Rostrum_ -resembled the neck of a goose[205]. - -Of all the figures, whose relation to their intended meaning is somewhat -obscure, the Sphinx perhaps alone was continued by the Greeks. Placed in -the front of a temple, it was, among the Greeks, almost as instructive, -as it was significant among the Egyptians[206]. The Greek Sphinx was -winged[207], its head bare, without that stole which it wears on some -Attick coins[208]. - -It was in general a characteristic of the Greeks, to mark their -productions with a certain chearfulness: the muses love not hideous -phantoms: and Homer himself, when by the mouth of some god he cites an -Egyptian allegory, always cautiously begins with “WE ARE TOLD.” Nay, -the elder Pampho[209], though he exceeds the Egyptian oddities, by his -description of Jupiter wrapt up in horse-dung, approaches nevertheless -the sublime idea of the English poet: - - _As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart;_ - _As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns,_ - _As the rapt seraph, that adores and burns._ - - Pope. - -It will be no easy matter to find, among the old Greek coins, an image -like that of a snake encircling an egg[210], on a Syrian coin of the -third century. None of their monuments are marked with any thing -ghastly: of these they were, if possible, still more cautious than of -ill-omen’d words. The image of death is not to be seen, perhaps, but -on one gem[211], and that in the shape commonly exhibited at their -feasts[212]; _viz._ dancing to a flute, with intent to make them enjoy -the present pleasures of life, by reminding them of its shortness. On -another gem[213], with a Roman inscription, there is a skeleton, with two -butterflies as images of the soul, one of which is caught by a bird; a -pretended symbol of the metempsychosis: but the performance is of latter -times. - -It has been likewise observed, that[214] among those myriads of altars, -sacred even to the most whimsical deities, there never was one set apart -to death; save only on the solitary coasts, which were deemed the -borders of the world[215]. - -The Romans, in their best times, thought like the Greeks; and always, -in adopting the iconology of a foreign nation, traced the footsteps of -these their masters. An elephant, one of the latter mysterious symbols of -the Egyptians[216] (for there is on the most ancient monuments neither -elephant[217] nor hart, ostrich nor cock, to be found), was the image of -different things[218], and perhaps of eternity, as on some Roman[219] -coins, because of his longevity. But on a coin of the emperor Antoninus, -this animal, with the inscription, MUNIFICENTIA, cannot possibly hint -at any other thing but the grand games, the magnificence of which was -augmented by those animals. - -But it is no more my design to attempt an inquiry into the origin of -every allegorical symbol among the Greeks and Romans, than to write a -system of allegory. All I propose is, to defend what I have advanced -concerning it, and at the same time to direct the artist to the images of -those ancients, in preference to the iconologies and ill-judged symbols -of some moderns. - -We may, from a little specimen, form a judgment of the turn of mind of -those ancients, and of the possibility of subjecting abstracted ideas -to the senses. The symbols of many a gem, coin, and monument, enjoy -their fixed and universally received interpretation; but some of the -most memorable, not yet brought to a proper standard, deserve a nearer -determination. - -Perhaps the allegory of the ancients might be divided, like painting and -poetry in general, into two classes, _viz._ the _sublime_, and the _more -vulgar_. Symbols of the one might be those by which some mythological -or philosophical allusion, or even some unknown or mysterious rite, is -expressed. - -Such as are more commonly understood, _viz._ personified virtues, vices, -_&c._ might be referred to the other. - -The images of the former give to performances of the art the true epick -grandeur: one single figure is sufficient to give it: the more it -contains, the sublimer it is: the more it engages our attention, the -deeper it penetrates, and we of course feel it the more. - -The ancients, in order to represent a child dying in his bloom, painted -him carried off by Aurora[220]: a striking image! taken, perhaps, from -the custom of burying youths at day-break. The ideas of the bulk of our -artists, in this respect, are too trivial to be mentioned here. - -The animation of the body, one of the most abstracted ideas, was -represented by the loveliest, most poetical images. An artist, who -should imagine he could express this idea by the Mosaick creation, would -be mistaken; for his image would be merely historical, and nothing -but the creation of Adam: a history altogether too sacred for being -either admitted as the allegory of a mere philosophical idea, or into -every place: neither does it seem poetical enough for the flights of -the art. This idea appears on coins and gems[221], as described by the -most ancient poets and philosophers: Prometheus forming a man of that -clay, of which large petrified heaps were found in Phocis in the time -of Pausanias[222]; and Minerva holding a butterfly, as an image of the -soul, over his head. The snake encircling a tree behind Minerva, on the -above coin of Antoninus Pius, is a supposed symbol of his prudence and -sagacity. - -It cannot be denied that the meaning of many an ancient allegory -is merely conjectural, and therefore not to be applied on every -occasion. A child catching a butterfly on an altar was pretended to -signify _Amicitia ad aras_, or, “which is not to exceed the borders of -justice[223].” On another gem, Love, endeavouring to pull off the branch -of an old tree, where a nightingale is perching, is said to allegorize -love of wisdom[224]. _Eros_, _Himeros_, and _Pathos_, the symbols of -Love, Appetite, and Desire, are represented, they say[225], on a gem, -encompassing the sacred fire on an altar; Love behind the fire, his head -only over-reaching the flames; Appetite and Desire on both sides of the -altar; Appetite with one hand only in the fire, with the other holding a -garland; Desire with both his hands in the flames. A _Victoria_ crowning -an anchor, on a coin of king Seleucus, was formerly regarded as an image -of peace and security procured by victory, till by the help of history we -have been enabled to give it its true interpretation. Seleucus is said to -have been born with a mark resembling an anchor[226], which not only he -himself, but all his descendants, the Seleucidæ, have preserved on their -coins[227]. - -There is another Victoria with butterfly’s wings[228], fastened on a -trophy. This, they say, is the symbol of a hero, who, like Epaminondas, -died in the very act of conquering. At Athens such a statue[229], and an -altar to an unwinged Victoria, was the symbol of their perpetual success -in battle: ours may admit of the same explication as Mars in chains at -Sparta[230]. Nor was she, as I presume, provided at random with wings -usually given to Psyche, her own being those of an eagle: they perhaps -signify the soul of the deceased: however, all these conjectures might be -tolerable, if a Victoria fastened on trophies of conquered enemies could -reasonably correspond with their being vanquished. - -Indeed the sublimer allegory of the ancients has not been transmitted to -us, without the loss of its most valuable treasures: it is poor, when -compared with the second kind, which is often provided with several -symbols for one idea. Two different ones, signifying the happiness of -the times, are expressed on coins of the emperor Commodus: the one a -lady[231], sitting with an apple or ball in her right, and a dial in her -left hand, beneath a leafy tree: three children are before her, two in a -vase or flower-pot, the usual symbol of fertility: the other represents -four children, who, as is clear by the things they bear, are the seasons. -Both have the subscription FELICITAS TEMPORVM. - -But these, and all the symbols that want inscriptions, are of a lower -rank; and some of them might as well be taken for signs of different -ideas. Hope[232] and Fertility[233], for instance, might be Ceres, -Nobility[234], Minerva. Patience[235], on a coin of Aurelian, wants her -true characteristick, as does Erato; and the Parcæ[236] are only by their -garments distinguished from the Graces. On the contrary, ideas which are -often confounded in morality, as Justice and Equity, are extremely well -distinguished by the ancients. The former is represented, as drawn by -_Gellius_[237], with a stern look, a diadem, and dressed hair[238]; the -latter with a mild countenance, and waving ringlets; ears of corn arising -from her balance, as symbols of the advantages of equity; and sometimes -she holds in her other hand[239] a cornu-copia. - -Peace, on a coin of the emperor Titus, is to be ranked among those of a -more energetick expression. The goddess of Peace leans on a pillar with -her left arm, in the hand of which she holds the branch of an olive-tree, -whilst the other waves the caduceus over the thigh of a victim on a -little altar, which hints at the bloodless sacrifices of that goddess: -the victims were slaughtered out of the temple, and nothing but the -thighs were offered at the altar, which was not to be stained with blood. - -Peace usually appears with the olive-branch and the caduceus, as on -another coin of this emperor[240]; or on a stool placed on a heap of -arms, as on a coin of Drusus[241]. On some of Tiberius’s and Vespasian’s -coins[242] Peace appears in the act of burning arms. - -On a coin of the Emperor Philip there is a noble image; a sleeping -Victory: which, with better reason, may be taken for the symbol of -confidence in conquest, than for that in the security of the world as -the inscription pretends. Of an analogous idea was the picture, by which -the Athenian General Timotheus was ridiculed, for the blind luck with -which he obtained his victories: he was represented asleep, with Fortune -catching Towns in her Net[243]. - -The Nile, with his sixteen children, is of this same class[244]. The -child that reaches the ears of corn, and the fruits, in his Cornu, is -the symbol of the highest fertility; but those that over-reach them are -signs of miscarrying seasons. Pliny explains the whole[245]. Egypt is at -the height of its fertility, when the Nile rises sixteen feet: but if -it either falls short of, or exceeds that measure, it equally blasts -the land with unfruitfulness. Rossi, in his collection, neglected the -children. - -Satyrical pictures belong also to this class: the Ass of Gabrias, for -instance[246], which imagines itself worshipped by the people, as they -bow to the statue of Isis on its back. It is impossible to give a -livelier image of the pride of the Vulgar-Great. - -The sublimer allegory might be supplied by the lower class, had it not -met with the same fate. We are, for instance, not acquainted with the -figure of Eloquence, or _Peitho_; or that of the Goddess of Comfort, -_Parergon_, represented by Praxiteles, as Pausanias tells us[247]. -Oblivion had an altar among the Romans[248], and perhaps a figure: as may -also be supposed of Chastity, whose altar is to be found on coins[249]; -and of Fear, to which Theseus offered sacrifices[250]. - -However, the remains of ancient allegory are not yet worn out: there are -still many secret stores: the poets, and other monuments of antiquity, -afford numbers of beautiful images. Those, who in our time, and that -of our fathers, were busy in improving allegory, and in facilitating -the endeavours of the artists; those, I say, should reasonably have -had recourse to so rich and pure a fountain. But there was an epoch to -appear, in which a shocking croud of pedants should, with downright -madness, conspire in an universal uproar against every the lead glimpse -of good taste. Nature, in their eyes, was puerile, and ought to be -fashioned: blockheads, both young and old, vied in painting devices and -emblems, for the benefit of artists, philosophers, and divines; and woe -to him who made a compliment, without dressing it up in an emblem! -Symbols void of sense were illustrated with inscriptions, giving an -account of what they meant, and meant not: these are the treasures which -are dug for, even in our times, and which, being then in high fashion, -out-shone all antiquity had left. - -The ancients, for instance, represented Munificence by a woman holding -a Cornucopia in one hand, and the table of the Roman Congiarium in the -other[251]: an image which looked too parsimonious for modern liberality; -another therefore was contrived[252], with two horns; one of them -inverted, the better to pour out its contents; an eagle, the meaning -of which is too hard for me to guess at, was set upon her head; others -painted her with a pot in each hand[253]. Eternity was, by the ancients, -drawn either sitting on a Globe, or rather Sphere[254], with a Hasta in -her hand; or standing[255], with the Sphere in one hand, and the Hasta in -the other; or with the Sphere in her hand, and no Hasta; or else covered -with a floating Veil[256]. These are the images of Eternity on the coins -of the Empress Faustina: but there was not gravity enough in them for -the modern artists. Eternity, so frightful to many, required a frightful -image[257]; a form female down to the breast, with Globes in each hand; -the rest of the Body a circling star-marked Snake turning into itself. - -Providence very often has a Globe at her feet, and a Hasta in her left -hand[258]. On a coin of the Emperor Pertinax[259], she stretches out both -her hands, towards a Globe falling from the clouds. A female figure, -with two heads, seemed more expressive to the moderns[260]. - -Constancy, on some of Claudius’s coins[261], is either fitting or -standing, with a Helmet on her head, and a Hasta in her left hand; or -without Helmet and Hasta, but always with a finger pointing to her face, -as if closely debating some point. For distinction sake the moderns -joined a couple of pillars[262]. - -It is very probable, that Ripa was often at a loss with his own figures. -Chastity, in his Iconology, holds in one hand a Whip[263], (a strange -incitement to virtue) in the other a Sieve: The first inventor, perhaps, -hinted at Tuccia the vestal; which Ripa not remembring, indulges the most -absurd whims, not worth repeating. - -By thus contrasting ancient and modern allegory, I mean not to divert our -times of their right of settling new allegories: but from the different -manners of thinking, I shall draw some rules, for those that are to tread -these paths. - -The character of noble simplicity was the chief aim of the Greeks and -Romans: of which Romeyn de Hooghe has given the very contrast. His book, -in general, may very fitly be compared to the elm in Virgil’s hell: - - _Hanc sedem somnia vulgo_ - _Vana tenere ferunt, foliisque sub omnibus hærent._ - - Æn. VI. - -The distinctness of the ancient allegory was owing to the individuation -of its images. Their rule, (if we except only a few of those -above-mentioned), was to avoid every ambiguity; a rule slightly observed -by the moderns: the Hart, for instance, symbolizing[264] baptism, -revenge, remorse, and flattery; the Cedar, a preacher, worldly vanities, -a scholar, and a woman dying in the pangs of child-birth. - -That simplicity and distinctness were always accompanied by a certain -decency. A hog signifying, among the Egyptians, a scrutator of -mysteries[265], together with all the swine of Cæsar Ripa and some of the -moderns, would have been thought, by the Greeks, too indecent a symbol of -any thing whatever: save only where that animal made part of the arms of -a place, as it appears to be on the Eleusinian coins[266]. - -The last rule of the ancients was to beware of signs too near a-kin to -the thing signified. Let the young allegorist observe these rules, and -study them, jointly with mythology, and the remotest history. - -Indeed some modern allegories, (if those ought to be called modern that -are entirely in the taste of antiquity), may perhaps be compared with -the sublimer class of the ancient. - -Two brothers of the Barbarigo-family, immediately succeeding each -other[267], in the dignity of Doge of Venice, are allegorized by Castor -and Pollux[268]; one of whom, as the fable tells us, gave the other part -of that immortality which Jupiter had conferred on him alone. Pollux, -in the allegory, presents his brother, represented by a skull, with a -circling snake, as the symbol of eternity; on the reverie of a fictitious -coin, beneath the described figures, there drops a broken branch from a -tree, with the Virgilian inscription, - - _Primo avulso non deficit alter._ - -Another idea on one of Lewis XIVth’s coins, is as worthy of notice; -being struck[269] on occasion of the Duke of Lorrain’s quiting his -dominions, after the surrender of Marsal, for having betrayed both the -French and Austrian courts. The Duke is Proteus overcome by the arts -of Menelaus, and bound, after having, in vain, tried all his different -forms. At a distance the conquered citadel is to be seen, and the year of -its surrender marked in the inscription. There was no occasion for the -superfluous epigraph: _Protei Artes delusæ_. - -Patience, or rather a longing earnest desire[270], represented by a -female figure, with folded hands, gazing on a watch, is a very good image -of the lower class. It must indeed be owned, that the inventors of the -most picturesque allegories have contented themselves with the remains of -antiquity; none having been authorised to establish images of their own -fancy, for the general imitation of the artists. Neither has any attempt -of latter times deferred the honour: for in the whole Iconology of Ripa, -of two or three that are tolerable ones, - - _Nantes in gurgite vasto_; - -an Ethiopian washing himself, as an allusion to labour lost[271], is -perhaps the best. There are indeed images, and useful hints, dispersed in -some books of greater note, (as for instance, The Temple of Stupidity in -the Spectator[272],) which ought to be collected, and made more general. -Thus, were the treasures of science joined to those of art, the time -might come, when a painter would be able to represent an ode, as well as -a tragedy. - -I shall myself submit to the publick some images: for rules instruct, -but examples still more. Friendship, I find every where pitifully -represented, and its emblems are not worth mentioning: their flying -scribbled labels shew us the depth of their inventors. - -This noblest of human virtues I would paint in the figures of those -two immortal friends of heroic times, Theseus and Pirithous. The head -of the former is said to be on gems[273]: he likewise appears with the -club[274] won from Periphetes, a son of Vulcan, on a gem of Philemon. -Theseus consequently might be drawn with some resemblance. Friendship, -at the brink of danger, might be taken from the idea of an old picture -at Delphos, as described by Pausanias[275]. Theseus was painted in the -action of defending himself and his friend against the Thesprotians, -with his own sword in one hand, and another drawn from the side of his -friend, in the other. The beginning of their friendship, as described by -Plutarch[276], might also be an image of that idea. I am astonished not -to have met, among the emblems of the great men of the Barbarigo-family, -with an image of a good man and eternal friend. Such was Nicolas -Barbarigo, who contracted with Marco Trivisano a friendship worthy of -immortality; - - _Monumentum ære perennius_: - -a little rare treatise alone has preserved their memory[277]. - -A little hint of Plutarch’s might furnish an image of Ambition: he -mentions[278] the sacrifices of Honour, as being performed bareheaded, -whereas all other sacrifices, save only those of Saturn[279], were -offered with covered heads. This custom he believes to have taken its -rise from the usual salutation in society; though it may as well be _vice -versa_: perhaps it sprung from the Pelasgian rites[280], which were -performed bareheaded. Honour is likewise represented by a female figure, -crowned with laurels, a _Cornucopia_ and _Hasta_ in her hands[281]. -Accompanied by Virtue, a male figure with a helmet, she is to be found on -a coin of Vitellius[282]: and the heads of both on those of Gordian and -Galien[283]. - -Prayers might be personified from an idea of Homer. Phœnix, the tutor -of Achilles, endeavouring to reconcile him to the Greeks, makes use of -an allegory. “Know Achilles, says he, that prayers are the daughters -of Zeus[284]; they are bent with kneeling; their faces sorrowful and -wrinkled, with eyes lifted up to heaven. They follow Ate; who, with a -bold and haughty mien marches on, and, light of foot as she is, runs over -all the world, to seize and torment mankind; for ever endeavouring to -escape the Prayers, who incessantly press upon her footsteps, in order -to heal those whom she hath hurt. Whoever honours these daughters of -Zeus, on their approach, may obtain much good from them; but meeting with -repulse, they pray their fire to punish by Ate the hard-hearted wretch.” - -The following well-known old fable might also furnish a new image. -Salmacis, and the youth beloved by her, were changed to a fountain, -unmanning to such a degree, that - - _Quisquis in hos fontes vir venerit, exeat inde_ - _Semivir: & tactis subito mollescat in undis,_ - - Ovid. Metam. L. IV. - -The fountain was near Halicarnassus in Caria. Vitruvius[285] thought he -had discovered the truth of that fiction: some inhabitants of Argos and -Trœzene, says he, going thither with a mind to settle, dispossessed the -Carians and Leleges; who, sheltering themselves among the mountains, -began to harass the Greeks with their excursions: but one of the -inhabitants having discovered some particular qualities in that fountain, -erected a building near it, for the convenience of those who had a mind -to make use of its water. Greeks and Barbarians mingled there; and these -at length, accustomed to the Greek civility, lost their savageness, and -were insensibly moulded into another nature. The fable itself is well -known to the artists: but the narrative of Vitruvius might instruct them -how to draw the allegory of a people taught humanity and civilised, like -the Russians by Peter the First. The fable of Orpheus might serve the -same purpose. Expression only must decide the choice. - -Supposing the above general observations upon allegory insufficient to -evince its necessity in painting, the examples will at least demonstrate, -that painting reaches beyond the senses. - -The two chief performances in allegorical painting, mentioned in my -treatise, viz. the Luxemburg gallery, and the cupola of the Imperial -Library at Vienna, may shew how poetical, how happy an use their authors -made of allegory. - -Rubens proposing to paint Henry IV. as a humane victor, with lenity and -goodness prevailing, even in the punishment of unnatural rebels, and -treacherous banditti, represents him as Jupiter ordering the gods to -overthrow and punish the vices: Apollo and Minerva let fly their darts -upon them, and the vices, hideous monsters, in a tumultuous uproar tumble -over each other: Mars, entering in a fury, threatens total destruction; -but Venus, image of celestial love, gently lays hold of his arm:—you -fancy you hear her blandishing petition to the _mailed_ god: “rage not -with cruel revenge against the vices—they are punished.” - -The whole performance of Daniel Gran[286] is an allegory, relative to the -Imperial Library, and all its figures are as the branches of one single -tree. ’Tis a painted Epopee, not beginning from the eggs of Leda; but, as -Homer chiefly rehearses the anger of Achilles, this immortalizes only the -Emperor’s care of the sciences. The preparations for the building of the -library are represented in the following manner: - -Imperial majesty appears as a lady fitting, her head sumptuously -dressed, and on her breast a golden heart, as a symbol of the Emperor’s -generosity. With her sceptre the gives the summons to the builders; -at her feet sits a genius with an angle, palette, and chissel; another -hovers over her with the figures of the Graces, as symbols of that good -taste which prevailed in the whole. Next to the chief figure sits general -Liberality, with a purse in her hand; below her a genius, with the -table of the Roman Congiarius, and behind her the Austrian Liberality, -her mantle embroidered with larks. Several Genii gather the treasures -that flow from her Cornucopia, in order to distribute them among the -votaries of the arts and sciences, chiefly those, whose good offices to -the library had entitled them to regard. The execution of the Imperial -orders personified, directs her face to the commanding figure, and three -children present the model of the house. Next her an old man, the image -of Experience, measures on a table the plan of the building, a genius -standing beneath him with a plummet, as ready to begin. Next the old -man sits Invention, with a statue of Isis in her right, and a book in -her left hand, signifying, that Nature and Science are the fathers of -Invention, the puzzling schemes of which are represented by a Sphinx -lying before her. - -This performance was compared to the great platfond of Le Moine at -Versailles, with an eye to the newest productions of France and Germany -alone: for the great gallery of the same palace, painted by Charles le -Brun, is, without doubt, the sublimest performance of poetick painting, -since the time of Rubens; and being possessed of this, as well as of -the gallery of Luxemburg, France may boast of the two most learned -allegorical performances. - -The gallery of Le Brun contains the history of Louis XIV. from the -Pyrenæan peace, to that of Nimeguen, in nine large, and eighteen -smaller pieces: that in which the King determines war against Holland, -contains, in itself alone, an ingenious and sublime application of almost -the whole mythology[287]: its beauties are too exuberant for this -treatise; let the artist’s ideas be judged only by two of the smaller -compositions. He represents the famous passage over the Rhine: his hero -sits in a chariot, a thunderbolt in his hand, and Hercules, the image of -heroism, drives him through the midst of tempestuous waves. The figure -representing Spain is borne down by the current: the river god, aghast, -lets fall his oar: the victories, approaching on rapid wings, present -shields, marked with the names of the towns conquered after the passage. -Europa astonished beholds the scene. - -Another represents the conclusion of the peace. Holland, though with-held -by the Imperial Eagle, snatching her robe, runs to meet peace, descending -from heaven, surrounded by the Genii of gaiety and pleasure, scattering -flowers all around her. Vanity, crowned with peacocks feathers; -endeavours to with-hold Spain and Germany from following their associate: -but perceiving the cavern where arms are forged for France and Holland, -and hearing same threatening in the skies, they likewise follow her -example. Is not the former of these two performances comparable, in -sublimity, to the Neptune of Homer, and the strides of his immortal -horses? - -But let examples be never so striking, allegory will still have -adversaries: they rose in times of old, against that of Homer himself. -There are people of too delicate a conscience, to bear truth and fiction -in one piece: they are scandalized at a poor river-god in some sacred -story. Poussin met with their reproaches, for personifying the Nile -in his Moses[288]. A still stronger party has declared against the -obscurity of allegory; for which they censured, and still continue to -censure, Le Brun. But who is there so little experienced as not to know, -that perspicuity and obscurity depend often upon time and circumstances? -When Phidias first added a tortoise[289] to his Venus, ’tis likely that -few were acquainted with his design in it, and bold was the artist who -first dared to fetter her: time, however, made the meaning as clear -as the figures themselves. Allegory, as Plato says[290] of poetry in -general, has something enigmatick in itself, and is not calculated for -the bulk of mankind. And should the painter, from the fear of being -obscure, adapt his performance to the capacity of those, who look upon -a picture as upon a tumultuous mob, he might as well check every new -and extraordinary idea. The design of the famous Fred. Barocci, in his -Martyrdom of St. Vitalis, by drawing a little girl alluring a magpye -with a cherry, must have been very mysterious to many; the cherry[291] -alluding to the season, in which that saint suffered. - -The painting of the greater machines, and of the larger parts of publick -buildings, palaces, &c. ought to be allegorical. Grandeur is relative to -grandeur; and heroick actions are not to be sung in elegiack strains. But -is every fiction allegorical in every place? The Venetian Doge might as -well pretend to enjoy his superiority in _Terra firma_. I am mistaken if -the Farnesian gallery is to be ranked among the allegorical performances. -Nevertheless Annibal, perhaps not having it in his power to choose his -subject, may have been too roughly used in my treatise: it is known that -the Duke of Orleans desired Coypel to paint in his gallery the history -of Æneas[292]. - -The Neptune of Rubens[293], in the gallery at Dresden, painted on purpose -to adorn the magnificent entry of the Infant Ferdinand of Spain into -Antwerp, as governor of the Netherlands, was there, on a triumphal arch, -allegorical[294]. The god of the ocean frowning his waves into peace, was -a poetick image of the Princes escaping the storm, and arriving safe at -Genoa. But now he is nothing more than the Neptune of Virgil. - -Vasari, when pretending to find allegory in the Athenian school of -Raphael[295], _viz._ a companion of philosophy and astronomy with -theology, seems to have required, and, by the common opinion of his time, -to have been authorised to require something grand and above the vulgar, -in the decorations of a grand apartment: though indeed there be nothing -but what is obvious at first look, and that is, a representation of the -Athenian academy[296]. - -But in ancient times, there was no story in a temple, that was not, -at the same time, allegorical; allegory being closely interwoven with -mythology: the gods of Homer, says an ancient, are the most lively images -of the different powers of the universe; shadows of elevated ideas: and -the gallantries of Jupiter and Juno, in the platfond of a temple of -that goddess at Samos, were looked on as such; air being represented by -Jupiter, and earth by Juno[297]. - -Here I think it incumbent upon me to clear up what I have said concerning -the contradictions in the character of the Athenians, as represented -by Parrhasius. This you think an easy matter; the painter having done -it either in the historical way, or in several pictures: which latter -is absurd. Has not there been even a statue of that people, done by -Leochares, as well as a temple[298]? The composition of the picture in -question, has still eluded all probable conjectures[299]; and the help of -allegory having been called in, has produced nothing but Tesoro’s[300] -ghastly phantoms. This fatal picture of Parrhasius, I am afraid, will of -itself be a perpetual instance of the superior skill of the ancients in -allegory. - -What has been said already of allegory, in general, contains likewise -what remarks may be made upon its being applied to decorations; -nevertheless as you insist upon that point particularly, I shall lightly -mention it too. - -There are two chief laws in decoration, viz. to adorn suitably to -the nature of things and places, and with truth; and not to follow an -arbitrary fancy. - -The first, as it concerns the artists in general, and dictates to them -the adjusting of things in such a manner, as to make them relative to -each other, claims especially a strict propriety in decorations: - - ——_Non ut placidis coeant immitia_— - - Hor. - -The sacred shall not be mixed with the profane, nor the terrible with the -sublime: this was the reason for rejecting the sheeps-heads[301], in the -Doric Metopes, at the chapel of the palace of Luxemburg at Paris. - -The second law excludes licentiousness; nay circumscribes the architect -and decorator within much narrower limits than the painter; who sometimes -must, in spite of reason, subject his own fancy, and Greece, to fashion, -even in history-pieces: but publick buildings, and such works as are made -for futurity, claim decorations that will outlast the whims of fashion; -like those that, by their dignity and superior excellence, bore down the -attacks of many a century: otherwise they fade away, grow insipid and out -of fashion, perhaps before the finishing of the very work to which they -are added. - -The former law directs the artist to allegory: the latter to the -imitation of antiquity; and this concerns chiefly the smaller decorations. - -Such I call those that make not up of themselves a whole, or those -that are additional to the larger ones. The ancients never applied -shells, when not required by the fable; as in the case of Venus and the -Tritons; or by the place, as in the temples of Neptune: and lamps decked -with shells[302] are supposed to have made part of the implements of -those temples. For the same reason they may give lustre; and be very -significant, in proper places; as in the festoons of the Stadthouse at -Amsterdam[303]. - -Sheep and ox-heads stripped of their skin, so far from justifying a -promiscuous use of shells, as the author seems inclined to think, are -plain arguments to the contrary: for they not only were relative to -the ancient sacrifices, but were thought to be endowed with a power -of averting lightning[304]; and Numa pretended to have been secretly -instructed about them by Jupiter[305]. Nor can the Corinthian capital -serve for an instance of a seemingly absurd ornament, authorised and -rendered fashionable by time alone: for it seems of an origin more -natural and reasonable than Vitruvius makes it; which is, however, an -enquiry more adapted to a treatise on architecture. Pocock believed that -the Corinthian order had not much reputation in the time of Pericles, who -built a temple to Minerva: but he should have been reminded, that the -Doric order belonged to the temples of that goddess, as Vitruvius informs -us[306]. - -These decorations ought to be treated like architecture in general, which -owes its grandeur to simplicity, to a system of few parts, which being -not complex themselves, branch out into grace and splendour. Remember -here the channelled pillars of the temple of Jupiter, at Agrigentum, -(Girgenti now) which were large enough to contain, in one single gutter, -a man at full length[307]. In the same manner these decorations must not -only be few, but those must likewise consist of few parts, which are to -appear with an air of grandeur and ease. - -The first law (to return to allegory) might be lengthened out into many a -subaltern rule: but the nature of things and circumstances is, and ever -must be, the artist’s first aim; as for examples, refutation promises -rather more instruction than authority. - -Arion riding on his dolphin, as unmeaningly represented upon a -Sopra-porta, in a new treatise on architecture[308], though a significant -image in the apartments of a French Dauphin, would be a very poor one -in any place where Philanthropy, or the protection of artists like him, -could not immediately be hinted at. On the contrary, he would even to -this day, though without his lyre, be an ornament to any publick building -at Tarentum, because the ancient Tarentines, stamped on their coins the -image of Taras, one of the sons of Neptune, riding on a dolphin, on a -supposition of his being their first founder. - -The allegorical decorations of a building, raised by the contributions -of a whole nation, I mean the Duke of Marlborough’s palace at Blenheim, -are absurd: enormous lions of massy stone, above two portals, tearing to -pieces a little cock[309]. The hint sprung from a poor pun. - -Nor can it be denied that antiquity furnishes some ideas seemingly -analogous to this: as for instance, the lioness on the tomb of Leæna, the -mistress of Aristogiton, raised in honour of her constancy amidst the -torments applied by the tyrant, in order to extort from her a confession -of the conspirators against him. But from this, I am afraid, nothing can -arise in behalf of the above pitiful decoration: that mistress of the -martyr of liberty having been a notorious woman, and whose name could -not decently stand a publick trial. Of the same nature are the lizards -and frogs on a temple[310], alluding to the names of the two architects, -Saurus and Batrachus[311]: the above-mentioned lioness having no tongue, -made the allegory still more expressive. The lioness on the tomb of the -famous Lais[312], holding with her fore-paws a ram, as a symbol of her -manners[313], was perhaps an imitation of the former. The lion was, in -general, set upon the tombs of the brave. - -It is not indeed to be pretended that every ornament and image of the -ancient vases, tools, &c. should be allegorical; and to explain many -of them, in that way, would be equally difficult and conjectural. I am -not bold enough to maintain, that an earthen lamp[314], in the shape -of an ox’s-head, means a perpetual remembrance of useful labours, on -account of the perpetuity of the fire; nor to decypher here a mysterious -sacrifice to Pluto and Proserpine[315]. But the image of a Trojan Prince, -carried off by Jupiter, to be his favourite, was of great and honourable -signification in the mantle of a Trojan. Birds pecking grapes seem as -suitable to an urn, as the young Bacchus brought by Mercury to be nursed -by Leucothea, on a large marble vase of the Athenian Salpion[316]. The -grapes may be a symbol of the pleasures the deceased enjoy in Elysium: -the pleasures of hereafter being commonly supposed to be such; as the -deceased chiefly delighted in when alive. A bird, I need not say, was the -image of the soul. A Sphinx, on a cup sacred to Bacchus, is supposed to -be an allusion to the adventures of Oedipus at Thebes, Bacchus’s birth -place[317]; as a Lizard on a cup of Mentor, may hint at the possessor, -whose name perhaps was Saurus. - -There is some reason to search for allegory, in most of the ancient -performances, when we consider, that they even built allegorically. -Such an allusive building was a gallery at Olympia[318], sacred to the -seven liberal arts, and re-echoing seven times a poem read aloud there. -A temple of Mercury, supported, instead of pillars, by Herms, or, as -we now spell, Terms, on a coin of Aurelian[319], is of the same kind: -there is on its front a dog, a cock, and a tongue; figures that want no -explication. - -Yet the temple of Virtue and Honour, built by Marcellus, was still more -learnedly executed: having consecrated his Sicilian spoils to that -purpose, he was disappointed by the priests, whom he first consulted -on that design; who told him, that no single temple could admit of -two divinities. Marcellus therefore ordered two temples to be built, -adjoining to each other, in such a manner that whoever would be admitted -to that of Honour must pass through that of Virtue[320]; thus publickly -indicating, that virtue alone leads to true honour: this temple was near -the Porta Capena[321]. And here I cannot help remembering those hollow -statues of ugly satyrs[322], which, when opened, were found replete with -little figures of the graces, to teach, that no judgment is to be formed -from outward appearances, and that a fair mind makes amends for a homely -body. - -Perhaps, Sir, some of your objections may have been omitted: if so, it -was against my will——and at this instant, I remember one concerning the -Greek art of changing blue eyes to black ones. Dioscorides is the only -writer that mentions it[323]. Attempts of this kind have been made in our -days: a certain Silesian countess was the favourite beauty of the age, -and universally acknowledged to be perfect, had it not been for her blue -eyes, which some of her admirers wished were black. The lady, informed of -the wishes of her adorers, by repeated endeavours overcame nature; her -eyes became black,—and she blind. - -I am not satisfied with myself, nor perhaps have given you satisfaction: -but the art is inexhaustible, and all cannot be written. I only wanted -to amuse myself agreeably at my leisure hours; and the conversation of -my friend FREDERIC OESER, a true imitator of Aristides, the painter of -the soul, was not a little favourable to my purpose: the name of which -worthy friend and artist[324] shall spread a lustre over the end of my -treatise. - - - - - INSTRUCTIONS - FOR THE - CONNOISSEUR. - - - ——_Non, si quid turbida ROMA_ - _Elevet, accedas: examenve improbum in illa_ - _Castiges trutina: nec te quæsiveris extra._ - _Nam Romæ est Quis non?_—— - -You call yourself a _Connoisseur_, and the first thing you gaze at, -in considering works of art, is the workmanship, the delicacy of the -pencilling, or the polish given by the chissel.——It was the idea however, -its grandeur or meanness, its dignity, fitness, or unfitness, that ought -first to have been examined: for industry and talents are independent of -each other. A piece of painting or sculpture cannot, merely on account -of its having been laboured, claim more merit than a book of the same -sort. To work curiously, and with unnecessary refinements, is as little -the mark of a great artist, as to write learnedly is that of a great -author. An image anxiously finished, in every minute trifle, may be fitly -compared to a treatise crammed with quotations of books, that perhaps -were never read. Remember this, and you will not be amazed at the laurel -leaves of _Bernini_’s Apollo and Daphne, nor at the net held by _Adams_’s -statue of water at Potzdam: you will only be convinced that workmanship -is not the standard which distinguishes the antique from the modern. - -Be attentive to discover whether an artist had ideas of his own, or only -copied those of others; whether he knew the chief aim of all art, Beauty, -or blundered through the dirt of vulgar forms; whether he performed like -a man, or played only like a child. - -Books may be written, and works of art executed, at a very small expence -of ideas. A painter may mechanically paint a Madonna, and please; and a -professor, in the same manner, may write Metaphysics to the admiration of -a thousand students. But would you know whether an artist deserves his -name, let him invent, let him do the same thing repeatedly: for as one -feature, may modify a mien, so, by changing the attitude of one limb, the -artist may give a new hint towards a characteristic distinction of two -figures, in other respects exactly the same, and prove himself a man. -Plato, in _Raphael_’s Athenian school, but slightly moves his finger: -yet he means enough, and infinitely more than all _Zucchari_’s meteors. -For as it requires more ability to say much in a few words, than to do -the contrary; and as good sense delights rather in things than shews, it -follows, that one single figure may be the theatre of all an artist’s -skill: though, by all that is stale and trivial! the bulk of painters -would think it as tyrannical to be sometimes confined to two or three -figures, in great only, as the ephemeral writers of this age would grin -at the proposal of beginning the world with their own private stock, all -public hobby-horses laid aside: for fine cloaths make the beau. ’Tis -hence that most young artists, - - _Enfranchis’d from their tutor’s care_, - -choose rather to make their entrance with some perplexed composition, -than with one figure strongly fancied and masterly executed. But let -him, who, content to please the few, wants not to earn either bread or -applause from a gaping mob, let him remember that the management of a -“_little_” more or less really distinguishes artist from artist; that the -truly sensible produces a multiplicity, as well as quickness and delicacy -of feelings, whilst the dashing quack tickles only feeble senses and -callous organs; that he may consequently be great in single figures, in, -the smallest compositions, and new and various in repeating things the -most trite. Here I speak out of the mouth of the ancients: this, their -works teach: and both our writers and painters would come nearer them, -did not the one busy themselves with their words only, the other with -their proportions. - -In the face of Apollo pride exerts itself chiefly in the chin and nether -lip; anger in the nostrils; and contempt in the opening mouth; the -graces inhabit the rest of his divine, head, and unruffled beauty, like -the sun, streams athwart the passions. In Laocoon you see bodily pains, -and indignation at undeserved sufferings, twist the nose, and paternal -sympathy dim the eye-balls. Strokes like these are, as in Homer, a whole -idea in one word; he only finds them who is able to understand them. Take -it for certain, that the ancients aimed at expressing much in little, - - _Their ore was rich, and seven times purg’d of lead_: - -whereas most moderns, like tradesmen in distress, hang out all their -wares at once. Homer, by raising all the gods from their seats, on -Apollo’s appearing amongst them[325], gives a sublimer idea than all the -learning of Callimachus could furnish. If ever a prejudice may be of -use, ’tis here; hope largely from the ancient works in approaching them, -nor fear disappointments; but examine, peruse, with cool sedateness and -silenced passions, lest your disturbed brain find Xenophon flat and Niobe -insipid. - -To original ideas, we oppose copied, not imitated ones. Copying we -call the slavish crawling of the hand and eyes, after a certain model: -whereas reasonable imitation just takes the hint, in order to work by -itself. _Domenichino_, the painter of Tenderness, imitated the heads of -the pretended Alexander at Florence, and of the Niobe at Rome[326]; but -altered them like a master. On gems and coins you may find many a figure -of _Poussin_’s: his Salomon is the Macedonian Jupiter: but whatever his -imitation produced, differs from the first idea, as the blossoms of a -transplanted tree differ from those that sprung in its native soil. - -Another method of copying is, to compile a Madonna from _Maratta_; a S. -Joseph from _Barocci_; other figures from other masters, and lump them -together in order to make a whole. Many such altar-pieces you may find, -even at Rome; and such a painter was the late celebrated _Masucci_ of -that city.——Copying I call, moreover, the following a certain form, -without the least consciousness of one’s being a blockhead. Such was he -who, by the command of a certain Prince, painted the nuptials of Psyche, -or, if you will, the Queen of Sheba:—’twas a pity there was no other -Psyche to be found, but that dangerous one of _Raphael_. Most of the late -great statues of the saints, in St. Peter’s at Rome, are of the same -stuff—the block at 500 Roman crowns from the quarry. - -The second characteristic of works of art is Beauty. The highest object -of meditation for man is man, and for the artist there is none above his -own frame. ’Tis by moving your senses that he reaches your soul: and -hence the analysis of the bodily system has no less difficulties for -him, than that of the human mind for the philosopher. I do not mean the -anatomy of the muscles, vessels, bones, and their different forms and -situations; nor the relative measure of the whole to its parts, and _vice -versa_: for the knife, exercise, and patience, may teach you all these. -I mean the analysis of an attribute, essential to man, but fluctuating -with his frame, allowed by all, misconstrued by many, known by few:—the -analysis of beauty, which no definition can explain, to him whom heaven -hath denied a soul for it. Beauty consists in the harmony of the various -parts of an individual. This is the philosopher’s stone, which all -artists must search for, though a few only find it: ’tis nonsense to -him, who could not have formed the idea out of himself. The line which -beauty describes is elliptical, both uniform and various: ’tis not to be -described by a circle, and from every point changes its direction. All -this is easily said; but to apply it—_there is the rub_. ’Tis not in the -power of Algebra to determine which line, more or less elliptic, forms -the divers parts of the system into beauty—but the ancients knew it; I -attest their works, from the gods down to their vases. The human form -allows of no circle, nor has any antique vase its profile semicircular. - -After this, should any one desire me to assist him more sensibly in his -inquiries concerning beauty, by setting down some rules (a hard task), I -would take them from the antique models, and in want of these, from the -most beautiful people I could meet with at the place where I lived. But -to instruct, I would do it in the negative way; of which I shall give -some instances, confining myself however to the face. - -The form of real beauty has no abrupt or broken parts. The ancients made -this principle the basis of their youthful profile; which is neither -linear nor whimsical, though seldom to be met with in nature: the -growth, at least, of climates more indulgent than ours. It consists in -the soft coalescence of the brow with the nose. This uniting line so -indispensably accompanies beauty, that a person wanting it may appear -handsome full-faced; but mean, nay even ugly, when taken in profile. -_Bernini_, that destroyer of art, despised this line, when legislator of -taste, as not finding it in common nature, his only model; and therein -was followed by all his school. From this same principle it necessarily -follows, that neither chin nor cheeks, deep-marked with dimples, can -be consistent with true beauty. Hence the face of the Medicean Venus -is to be degraded from the first rank. Her face, I dare say, was taken -from some celebrated fair one, contemporary with the artist. Two other -Venuses, in the garden behind the Farnese, are manifestly portraits. - -The form of real beauty has neither the projected parts obtuse, nor -the vaulted ones sharp. The eye-bone is magnificently raised, the chin -thoroughly vaulted. Thus the best ancients drew: though, when taste -declined amongst them, and the arts were trampled on in modern times, -these parts changed too: then the eye-bone became roundish and obtusely -dull, and the chin mincingly pretty. Hence we may safely affirm, that -what they call Antinous, in the Belvedere, whose eye-bone is rather -obtuse, cannot be a work of the highest antiquity, any more than the -Venus. - -As these remarks are general, they likewise concern the features of -the face, the form only. There is another charm, that gives expression -and life to forms, which we call Grace; and we shall give some loose -reflexions on it separately, leaving it to others to give us systems. - -The figure of a man is as susceptible of beauty as that of a youth: -but as a various one, not the various alone, is the Gordian knot, it -follows, that a youthful figure, drawn at large, and in the highest -possible degree of beauty, is, of all problems that can be proposed to -the designer, the most difficult. Every one may convince himself of this: -take the most beautiful face in modern painting, and it will go hard, -but you shall know a still more beautiful one in nature.——I speak thus, -after having considered the treasures of Rome and Florence. - -If ever an artist was endowed with beauty, and deep innate feelings for -it; if ever one was versed in the taste and spirit of the ancients, ’twas -certainly _Raphael_: yet are his beauties inferior to the most beautiful -nature. I know persons more beautiful than his unequalled Madonna, in -the _Palazzo Petti_ at Florence, or the Alcibiades in his academy. The -Madonna in the Christmas-night of _Corregio_, (a piece justly celebrated -for its chiar’-oscuro) is no sublime idea; still less so is that of -_Maratta_ at Dresden: _Titian_’s celebrated Venus[327] in the Tribuna -at Florence is common nature. The little heads of _Albano_ have an air -of beauty; but it is a different thing to express beauty in little, and -in great. To have the theory of navigation, and to guide a ship through -the ocean, are two things. _Poussin_, who had studied antiquity more than -his predecessors, knew perfectly well what his shoulders could bear, and -never ventured into the great. - -The Greeks alone seem to have thrown forth beauty, as a potter makes his -pot. The heads on all the coins of their Free-states have forms above -nature, which they owe to the line that forms their profile. Would it not -be easy to hit that line? Yet have all the numismatic compilers deviated -from it. Might not _Raphael_, who complained of the scarcity of beauty, -might not he have recurred to the coins of Syracuse, as the best statues, -Laocoon alone excepted, were not yet discovered? - -Farther than those coins no mortal idea _can_ go. I wish my reader -an opportunity of seeing the beautiful head of a genius in the Villa -Borghese, and those images of unparalleled beauty, Niobe and her -daughters. On the western side of the Alps he must be contented with gems -and pastes. Two of the most beautiful youthful heads are a Minerva of -Aspasius, now at Vienna, and a young Hercules in the Museum of the late -Baron Stosch, at Florence. - -But let no man, who has not formed his taste upon antiquity, take it into -his head to act the connoisseur of beauty: his ideas must be a parcel -of whims. Of modern beauties I know none that could vie with the Greek -female dancer of Mr. _Mengs_, big as life, painted in _Crayons_ on wood, -for the Marquis Croimare at Paris, or with his Apollo amidst the muses, -in the Villa Albano, to whom that of _Guido_ in the Aurora, compared, is -but a mortal. - -All the modern copies of ancient gems give us another proof of the -decisive authority of beauty in criticisms on works of art. _Natter_ has -dared to copy that head of Minerva mentioned above, in the same size -and smaller, but fell short. The nose is a hair too big, the chin too -flat, and the mouth mean. And this is the case of modern imitators in -general. What can we hope then of self-fancied beauties? Conclude not, -however, from this, against the possibility of a perfect imitation of -antique heads: ’tis enough to say, that it has not yet existed: ’twas -probably the fault of the imitators themselves. _Natter_’s treatise on -ancient gems is rather shallow; and what he wrought and wrote, even on -that single branch of engraving, for which he was chiefly celebrated, has -neither the strength nor the ease of genius. - -To this consciousness of inferiority we owe the scarcity of modern -supposititious gems and coins. Any man of taste may, upon comparison, -distinguish even the best modern coin from the antique original.—I speak -of the best antiques: for as to the lower Imperial coins, where the cheat -was easier, the artists have been liberal enough. _Padoano_’s stamps, for -copying antique coins, are in the Barberini Collection at Rome, and those -of one _Michel_, a Frenchman, and false coiner in taste, at Florence, in -that of the late Baron Stosch. - -The third characteristic of works of art is Execution; or, the sketch -being made, the method of finishing. And even here we commend good sense -above industry. As in judging of styles, we distinguish the good writer -by the clearness, fluency, and nervousness of his diction; so in works -of art, we discover the master by the manly strength, freedom, and -steadiness of his hand. The august contour, and easiness of mien, in the -figures of Christ, St. Peter, and the other apostles, on the right side -of the Transfiguration, speak the classic hand of _Raphael_, as strongly -as the smooth, anxious nicety of some of _Julio Romano_’s figures, on the -left, the more wavering one of the disciple. - -Never admire either the marble’s radiant polish, or the picture’s glossy -surface. For that the journeyman sweated; for this the painter vegetated -only. _Bernini_’s Apollo is as polished as HE in the Belvedere; and there -is much more labour hid in one of _Trevisani_’s Madonnas, than in that of -_Corregio_. Whenever trusty arms and laborious industry prevail, we defy -all the ancients. We are not their inferiors even in managing porphyry, -though a mob of scriblers, with _Clarencas_ in their rear-guard, deny it. - -Nor (whatever _Maffei_ thinks[328],) did the ancients know a peculiar -method of giving a nicer polish to the figures of their concave gems -(_Intagli_.) Our artists polish as nicely: but statues and gems may be -detestable, for all their polish, as a face may be ugly, with the softest -skin. - -This however is not meant to blame a statue for its polish, as it is -conducive to beauty: though Laocoon informs us, that the ancients knew -the secret of finishing statues, merely with the chissel. Nor does the -cleanness of the pencil, on a picture, want its merit: yet it ought to -be distinguished from enamelled tints. A barked statue, and a bristly -picture are alike absurd. Sketch with fire, and execute with phlegm. We -blame workmanship only as it claims the first rank; as in the marbles _à -la Bernini_, and the linnen of _Scybold_ and _Denner_. - -Friend, these instructions may be of use. For as the bulk of mankind -amuse themselves with the shells of things only, your eye may be -captivated by polish and glare, as they are the most obvious; to put -you on your guard against which, is leading you the first step to true -knowledge. For daily observation, during several years, in Italy, has -taught me how lamentably most young travellers are duped by a set of -blind leaders. To see them skip about in the temple of art and genius, -all quite sober and cool, puts me in mind of a swarm of new-fledged -grashoppers wantoning in the spring. - - - - - ON - GRACE. - - - ——Χαριτων ἱμερο φωνων ἱερον φυτον. - -Grace is the harmony of agent and action. It is a general idea: for -whatever reasonably pleases in things and actions is gracious. Grace is -a gift of heaven; though not like beauty, which must be born with the -possessor: whereas nature gives only the dawn, the capability of this. -Education and reflection form it by degrees, and custom may give it the -sanction of nature. As water, - - _That least of foreign principles partakes,_ - _Is best:_ - -So Grace is perfect when most simple, when freest from finery, -constraint, and affected wit. Yet always to trace nature through the -vast realms of pleasure, or through all the windings of characters, -and circumstances infinitely various, seems to require too pure and -candid a taste for this age, cloyed with pleasure, in its judgments -either partial, local, capricious, or incompetent. Then let it suffice -to say, that Grace can never live where the passions rave; that beauty -and tranquillity of soul are the centre of its powers. By this Cleopatra -subdued Cæsar; Anthony slighted Octavia and the world for this; it -breathes through every line of Xenophon; Thucydides, it seems, disdained -its charms; to Grace Apelles and Corregio owe immortality; but Michael -Angelo was blind to it; though all the remains of ancient art, even those -of but middling merit, might have satisfied him, that Grace alone places -them above the reach of modern skill. - -The criticisms on Grace in nature, and on its imitation by art, seem to -differ: for many are not shocked at those faults in the latter, that -certainly would incur their displeasure in the former. This diversity -of feelings lies either in imitation itself, which perhaps affects the -more the less it is akin to the thing imitated; or in the senses being -little exercised, and in the want of attention, and of clear ideas of -the objects in question. But let us not from hence infer that Grace is -wholly fictitious: the human mind advances by degrees; nor are youth, the -prejudices of education, boiling passions, and their train of phantoms, -the standard of its real delight—remove some of these, and it admires -what it loathed, and spurns what it doted on. Myriads, you say, the bulk -of mankind, have not even the least notion of Grace—but what do they know -of beauty, taste, generosity, or all the higher luxuries of the soul? -These flowers of the human mind were not intended for universal growth, -though their seeds lie in every breast. - -Grace, in works of art, concerns the human figure only; it modifies the -_attitude_ and _countenance_, _dress_ and _drapery_. And here I must -observe, that the following remarks do not extend to the comic part of -art. - -The attitude and gestures of antique figures are such as those have, who, -conscious of merit, claim attention as their due, when appearing among -men of sense. Their motions always shew the motive; clear, pure blood, -and settled spirits; nor does it signify whether they stand, sit, or lie; -the attitudes of Bacchanals only are violent, and ought to be so. - -In quiet situations, when one leg alone supports the other which is free, -this recedes only as far as nature requires for putting the figure out -of its perpendicular. Nay, in the _Fauni_, the foot has been observed to -have an inflected direction, as a token of savage, regardless nature. To -the modern artists a quiet attitude seemed insipid and spiritless, and -therefore they drag the leg at rest forwards, and, to make the attitude -ideal, remove part of the body’s weight from the supporting leg, wring -the trunk out of its centre, and turn the head, like that of a person -suddenly dazzled with lightning. Those to whom this is not clear, may -please to recollect some stage-knight, or a conceited young Frenchman. -Where room allowed not of such an attitude, they, lest unhappily the leg -that has nothing to do might be unemployed, put something elevated under -its foot, as if it were like that of a man who could not speak without -setting his foot on a stool, or stand without having a stone purposely -put under it. The ancients took such care of appearances, that you will -hardly find a figure with crossed legs, if not a Bacchus, Paris, or -Nireus; and in these they mean to express effeminate indolence. - -In the countenances of antique figures, joy bursts not into laughter; -’tis only the representation of inward pleasure. Through the face of -a Bacchanal peeps only the dawn of luxury. In sorrow and anguish they -resemble the sea, whose bottom is calm, whilst the surface raves. Even -in the utmost pangs of nature, Niobe continues still the heroine, who -disdained yielding to Latona. The ancients seem to have taken advantage -of that situation of the soul, in which, struck dumb by an immensity -of pains, she borders upon insensibility; to express, as it were, -characters, independent of particular actions; and to avoid scenes too -terrifying, too passionate, sometimes to paint the dignity of minds -subduing grief. - -Those of the moderns, that either were ignorant of antiquity, or -neglected to enquire into Grace in nature, have expressed, not only what -nature feels, but likewise what she feels not. A Venus at Potzdam, by -_Pigal_[329], is represented in a sentiment which forces the liquor to -flow out at both sides of her mouth; seemingly gasping for breath; for -she was intended to pant with lust: yet, by all that’s desperate! was -this very Pigal several years entertained at Rome to study the antique. -A _Carita_ of _Bernini_, on one of the papal monuments in St. Peter’s, -ought, you’ll think, to look upon her children with benevolence and -maternal fondness; but her face is all a contradiction to this: for the -artist, instead of real graces, applied to her his nostrum, dimples, by -which her fondness becomes a perfect sneer. As for the expression of -modern sorrow, every one knows it, who has seen cuts, hair torn, garments -rent, quite the reverse of the antique, which, like Hamlet’s, - - ——_hath that within, which passeth shew:_ - _These, but the trappings, and the suits of woe._ - -The gestures of the hands of antique figures, and their attitudes in -general, are those of people that think themselves alone and unobserved: -and though the hands of but very few statues have escaped destruction, -yet may you, from the direction of the arm, guess at the easy and natural -motion of the hand. Some moderns, indeed, that have supplied statues -with hands or fingers, have too often given them their own favourite -attitudes—that of a Venus at her toilet, displaying to her levee the -graces of a hand, - - ——_far lovelier when beheld._ - -The action of modern hands is commonly like the gesticulation of a -young preacher, piping-hot from the college. Holds a figure her cloths? -You would think them cobweb. Nemesis, who, on antique gems, lifts her -peplum softly from her bosom, would be thought too griping for any new -performance—how can you be so unpolite to think any thing may be held, -without the three last fingers genteely stretched forth? - -Grace, in the accidental parts of antiques, consists, like that of the -essential ones, in what becomes nature. The drapery of the most ancient -works is easy and slight: hence it was natural to give the folds beneath -the girdle an almost perpendicular direction.—Variety indeed was sought, -in proportion to the increase of art; but drapery still remained a -thin floating texture, with folds gathered up, not lumped together, or -indiscreetly scattered. That these were the chief principles of ancient -drapery, you may convince yourself from the beautiful Flora in the -Campidoglio, a work of Hadrian’s times. Bacchanals and dancing figures -had, indeed, even if statues, more waving garments, such as played upon -the air; such a one is in the Palazzo Riccardi at Florence; but even then -the artists did not neglect appearances, nor exceed the nature of the -materials. Gods and heroes are represented as the inhabitants of sacred -places; the dwellings of silent awe, not like a sport for the winds, or -as wafting the colours: floating, airy garments are chiefly to be met -with on gems—where Atalanta flies - - _As meditation swift, swift as the thoughts of love._ - -Grace extends to garments, as such were given to the Graces by the -ancients. How would you wish to see the Graces dressed? Certainly not in -birth-day robes; but rather like a beauty you loved, still warm from the -bed, in an easy negligée. - -The moderns, since the epoch of _Raphael_ and his school, seem to have -forgot that drapery participates of Grace, by their giving the preference -to heavy garments, which might not improperly be called the wrappers -of ignorance in beauty: for a thick large-folded drapery may spare the -artists the pains of tracing the Contour under it, as the ancients did. -Some of the modern figures seem to be made only for lasting. _Bernini_ -and _Peter_ of _Cortona_ introduced this drapery. For ourselves, we -choose light easy dresses; why do we grudge our figures the same -advantage? - -He that would give a History of Grace, after the revolution of the arts, -would perhaps find himself almost reduced to negatives, especially in -sculpture. - -In sculpture, the imitation of one great man, of _Michael Angelo_, has -debauched the artists from Grace. He, who valued himself upon his being -“a pure intelligence” despised all that could please humanity; his -exalted learning disdained to stoop to tender feelings and lovely grace. - -There are poems of his published, and in manuscript, that abound in -meditations on sublime beauty: but you look in vain for it in his -works.—Beauty, even the beauty of a God, wants Grace, and Moses, without -it, from awful as he was, becomes only terrible. Immoderately fond of -all that was extraordinary and difficult, he soon broke through the -bounds of antiquity, grace, and nature; and as he panted for occasions -of displaying skill only, he grew extravagant. His lying statues, on -the ducal tombs of St. Lorenzo at Florence, have attitudes, which life, -undistorted, cannot imitate: so careless was he, provided he might dazzle -you with his mazy learning, of that decency, which nature and the place -required, that to him we might apply, what a poet says of St. Lewis in -hell: - - _Laissant le vray pour prendre la grimace,_ - _Il fut toujours au delà de la Grace,_ - _Et bien plus loin que les commandements._ - -He was blindly imitated by his disciples, and in them the want of Grace -shocks you still more: for as they were far his inferiors in science, -you have no equivalent at all. How little _Guilielmo della Porta_, the -best of them all, understood grace and the antique, you may see in that -marble groupe, called the Farnese-bull; where Dirce is his to the girdle. -_John di Bologna_, _Algardi_, _Fiammingo_, are great names, but likewise -inferior to the ancients, in Grace. - -At last _Lorenzo Bernini_ appeared, a man of spirit and superior talents, -but whom Grace had never visited even in dreams. He aimed at encyclopædy -in art; painter, architect, statuary, he struggled, chiefly as such, -to become original. In his eighteenth year he produced his Apollo and -Daphne; a work miraculous for those years, and promising that sculpture -by him should attain perfection. Soon after he made his David, which -fell short of Apollo. Proud of general applause, and sensible of his -impotency, either to equal or to offuscate the antiques; he seems, -encouraged by the dastardly taste of that age, to have formed the -project of becoming a legislator in art, for all ensuing ages, and he -carried his point. From that time the Graces entirely forsook him: how -could they abide with a man who begun his career from the end opposite -to the ancients? His forms he compiled from common nature, and his ideas -from the inhabitants of climates unknown to him; for in Italy’s happiest -parts nature differs from his figures. He was worshipped as the genius of -art, and universally imitated; for, in our days, statues being erected to -piety only, none to wisdom, a statue _à la Bernini_ is likelier to make -the kitchen prosper than a Laocoon. - -From Italy, reader, I leave you to guess at other countries. A celebrated -_Puget_, _Girardon_, with all his brethren in _On_, are worse. Judge -of the connoisseurs of France by _Watelet_, and of its designers, by -_Mariette_’s gems. - -At Athens the Graces stood eastward, in a sacred place. Our artists -should place them over their work-houses; wear them in their rings; seal -with them; sacrifice to them; and, court their sovereign charms to their -last breath. - - - - -FOOTNOTES - - -[1] Plato in Timæo. Edit. Francof. p. 1044. - -[2] In Timæum Platonis. - -[3] Vide Pindar. Olymp. Od. VII. Arg. & Schol. - -[4] Some are of opinion, that the celebrated Ludovisian gladiator, now in -the great sallon of the capitol, is this same whom Pliny mentions. - -[5] Vide Bellori Descriz delle Imagini dipinte da Raffaelle d’Vrbino, &c. -Roma. 1695 fol. - -[6] Vide Stosch Pierres grav. pl. XXXIII. - -[7] Baldinucci Vita del Cav. Bernini. - -[8] Vide Stosch Pierres Grav. pl. XXIX. XXX. - -[9] Vide Mus. Flor. T. II. t. V. - -[10] Vide Zanetti Statue nell’ Antisala della libraria di S. Marco. -Venez. 1740. fol. - -[11] Among the busts remarkable for that coarser Drapery, we may reckon -the beauteous Caracalla in the royal cabinet at Dresden. - -[12] Vide Wright’s Travels. - -The victorious St. Michael of Guido, treads on the body of his -antagonist, with all the precision of a dancing-master. Webb’s Inquiry, -&c. - -[13] Vasari vite de Pittori, Scult. et Arch. edit. 1568. Part III. p. -776.——“Quattro prigioni bozzati, che possano insegnare à cavare de’ Marmi -le figure con un modo sicuro da non istorpiare i sassi, che il modo è -questo, che s’ e’ si pigliassi una figura di cera ò d’ altra materia -dura, e si metessi à giacere in una conca d’ acqua, la quale acqua -essendo per la sua natura nella sua sommità piana et pari, alzando la -detta figura à poco del pari, cosi vengono à scoprirsi prima le parti piu -relevate e à nascondersi i fondi, cioè le parti piu basse della figura, -tanto che nel fine ella cosi viene scoperta tutta. Nel medesimo modo si -debbono cavare con lo scarpello le figure de’ Marmi, prima scoprendo le -parti piu rilevate, e di mano in mano le piu basse, il quale modo si -vede osservato da Michael Angelo ne’ sopra detti prigioni, i quali sua -Eccellenza vuole, che servino per esempio de suoi Academici.” - -[14] Lettere d’alcuni Bolognesi, Vol. I. p. 159. - -[15] Compare a description of a St. Sebastian of Beccafumi, another of -a Hercules and Antæus of Lanfranc, &c. in Raguenet’s Monumens de Rome, -Paris, 12mo. - -[16] Labat voyage en Espagne & en Ital. T. III. p. 213.——“Michel Ange -étoit aussi savant dans l’antiquité que dans l’anatomie, la sculpture, -la peinture, et l’architecture; et puisqu’ il nous a representé Moyse -avec une si belle et si longue barbe, il est sûr, et doit passer pour -constant, que le prophete la portoit ainsi; et par une consequence -necessaire les Juifs, qui pretendent le copier avec exactitude, et qui -font la plus grande partie de leur religion de l’observance des usages -qu’ il a laissé, doivent avoir de la barbe comme lui, ou renoncer à la -qualité de Juifs.” - -[17] Apotheos. Homeri, p. 81, 82. - -[18] Stosch Pierr. Grav. pl. XIX. - -[19] Monum. Antiquit. p. 255. - -[20] Puffendorf Rer. Suec. L. XX. §. 50. p. 796. - -[21] Sandrart Acad. P. II. L. 2. c. 6. p. 118. Conf. St. Gelais descr. -des Tabl. du Palais Royal, p. 12. & seq. - -[22] Plin. Hist. Nat. L. 35. c. 10. - -[23] Lucian de Hist. Scrib. - -[24] Strabo Geogr. L. VIII. p. 542. - -[25] Vitruv. L. III. c. 1. - -[26] Borell. de motu animal. P. I. c. 18. prop. 142. p. 142. edit. -Bernoull. - -[27] Stosch. Pierr. Grav. pl. XXXV. - -[28] Stosch Pierr. Grav. pl. XXXV. - -[29] Mariette Pierr. Grav. T. II. n. 94. - -[30] Stosch Pierr. Grav. pl. LIV. - -[31] Pausanias, L. VI. c. 7. p. 470. - -[32] Dioscorid. de Re Medica, L. V. c. 179. Conf. Salmas. Exercit. Plin. -c. 15. p. 134. b. - -[33] Aristoph. Nub. v. 1178. ibid. v. 1363. Et Scholiast. - -[34] Observat. sur les arts, sur quelques morceaux de peint. & sculpt. -exposés au Louvre en 1748, p. 18. - -[35] Riposo di Raffaello Borghini, L. I. p. 46. - -[36] See the Cupid by SOLON, Stosch. 64. the Cupid leading the Lioness, -by SOSTRATUS, Stosch. 66. and a Child and Faun, by AXEOCHUS, Stosch 20. - -[37] Vide Bartoli Admiranda Rom. fol. 50, 51, 61. Zanetti Stat. Antich. -P. II. fol. 33. - -[38] Vide Callistrat. p. 903. - -[39] Vide Philostrati Heroic. - -[40] Vide Baldinucci vita del Caval. Bernin. p. 47. - -[41] Vide Baldinucci vita del Caval. Bernin. p. 72. - -[42] Trattato della pittura e scultura, uso et abuso loro, composto da un -theologo e da un pittore. Fiorenza, 1652. 4. - -[43] Bellori vite de’ pittori, &c. p. 300. - -[44] Richardson, Tom. III. p. 94. - -[45] Xenophon Memorab. L. III. c. 6, 7. - -[46] Vide Baldinucci vita del Cav. Bernini, p. 66. - -[47] Plin. Hist. Nat. L. 35. c. 10. - -[48] Quintilian. Instit. Or. L. 12. c. 19. - -[49] Idyll. 18. v. 29. - -[50] De Pile’s Conversat. sur la peint. - -[51] Du Bos Refl. sur la poesie & sur la peint. - -[52] The Stratonice was twice painted by Lairesse. The picture we talk of -is the smallest of the two: the figure is about one foot and a half, and -differs from the other in the disposition of the Parerga. - -[53] See Plutarch. in Demetr. & Lucian. de Dea Syria. - -[54] Vide Lettre de Mr. Huet sur la Pourpre: dans les Dissertat. de -Tilladet. Tom. II. p. 169. - -[55] St. Real Cæsarion, T. II. Le Blanc Lettre sur l’Expos. des Ouvrages -de Peint, &c. 1747. - -[56] De Oratore, L. II. c. 21. - -[57] Aristot. Rhet. L. I. c. 1. §. 4. - -[58] Xenophon Resp. Laced. c. 3. §. 5. - -[59] Origines Contra Cels. L. IV. p. 196. Edit. Cantabr. - -[60] Perrault sur Vitruve Explic. de la Planche IX. p. 62. - -[61] Dialog. Inconfus. p. 76. - -[62] Horapoll. Hierogl. c. 33. Conf. Blackwell’s Enq. into Hom. p. 170. - -[63] De Re rust. præf. ad L. I. §. 32. p. 392. Edit. Gesn. - -[64] Vitruv. L. IV. c. 1. - -[65] Travels, T. II. - -[66] Plutarch. Numa. p. 149. L. 14. Edit. Bryani. - -[67] Passerii Lucern. - -[68] Menage Diction. Etymol. v. Barroque. - -[69] Vide Desgodez Edifices antiq. de Rome, p. 91. - -[70] Bartoli Sepolcri Antichi, p. 67. ibid. fig. 91. - -[71] Perrault notes sur Vitruv. L. IV. ch. 2. n. 21. p. 118. - -[72] Martial, L. III. Ep. 41. 1. - -[73] Bellori Sepolchri ant. f. 99. - -[74] Virgil, Æn. V. v. 250. & seq. - -[75] Pausanias, L. IX. c. 40. p. 794. Conf. Spanhem. Not. sur les Cæesars -de l’Emp. Julien. p. 240. - -[76] Kircheri Oedip. Ægypt. T. III. p. 405, & 433. - -[77] Bianchini Istor. Univ. p. 412. - -[78] Nehem. Grew Musæum Societ. Reg. Lond. 1681. fol. p. 1. - -[79] Vide Gabr. Bremond Viaggi nell’Egitto. Roma. 1579. 4. L. I. c. 15. -p. 77. - -[80] Clemens Alex. Strom. L. VI. p. 456. - -[81] Shaw, Voyage, T. II. p. 123. - -[82] Della Valle Viaggi. Lettr. 11. §. 9. p. 325. & seq. - -[83] Herodot. L. II. c. 36. Diod. Sic. - -[84] Plutarch. de Isid. & Osirid. p. 374. - -[85] Kircher Oed. I. c. ej. Prodrom. Copt. c. 7. - -[86] Herodot. L. II. c. 153. - -[87] Diogen. Laert. v. Democr. - -[88] Diodor. Sic. L. I. c. 29. Edit. Wessel. - -[89] Kircher Oedip. I. c.—it. ejusd. China illustrata. III. c. 4. p. 151. - -[90] Alberti Englische Briefe, B——. - -[91] Clem. Alex. Strom. L. I. p. 354. Edit. Pott. - -[92] Herodot. L. II. c. 61. - -[93] Montfaucon Palæogr. Græc. L. III. c. 5. p. 230. Kuhn. Not. ad -Pausan. L. II. p. 128. - -[94] Augustin. Gem. P. II. l. 32. - -[95] Gruter. Corp. Inscr. p. DCCCLXI. ἐυτυχειτε, χαιρετε, &c. - -[96] Prideaux Marm. Oxon. 4. & 179. - -[97] Demosth. Orat. pro Corona, p. 485, 499. Edit. Frc. 1604. - -[98] Gruter, Corp. Inscript. p. DCXLI. 8. - -[99] Montfaucon Palæogr. L. IV. c. 10. p. 336, 338. - -[100] Montf. L. I. c. 4. II. c. 6. p. 152. - -[101] Herod. L. II. - -[102] Descript. de l’Egypte, par Mascriere, Lettr. VII. 23. - -[103] Descript. de l’Eg. L. c. - -[104] Chishul. Inscr. Sig. p. 12. - -[105] Kircher. Obelisc. Pamph. c. 8. p. 147. - -[106] Cicero de Oratore, L. II. c. 37. - -[107] The author was then preparing for a journey to Rome. - -[108] Argenville abregé de la V. d. P. T. II. p. 287. - -[109] Reise, p. 21. - -[110] Strabo, L. XIV. p. 652. al. 965. l. 11. - -[111] Richardson Essay, &c. p. 38, 39. - -[112] Diomedes, for ought I can see, is neither a sitting nor a standing -figure, in both which cases the critick must be allowed to be just. He -descends. _Remark of the T. L._ - -[113] Cicero de Fato, c. 4. - -[114] Strabo, L. IV. p. 196. al. 299. l. 22. - -[115] Misopog. p. 342. l. 13. - -[116] Strabo, L. III. p. 158. al. 238. - -[117] Du Bos Reflex. sur la Poesie et s. l. P. II. 144. - -[118] Herodot. L. III. c. 106. Cicero ad Attic. L. VI. cp. 2. - -[119] Περὶ τοπων. p. 288. edit. Foesii. Galenus ὁτι τα τῆς Ψυχῆς Ἠθη τοις -του Σωματος κρασεσι ἑπεται. fol. 171. B. I. 43. edit. Ald. T. I. - -[120] Chardin voyage en Perse, T. II. p. 127. & seq. - -[121] Journal des Sçavans l’An. 1684. Aur. p. 153. - -[122] Apud Euseb. Præpar. Evang. L. V. c. 29. p. 226. edit. Colon. - -[123] Plin. Hist. Nat. L. V. c. 8. - -[124] Lahontan Memoir. T. II. p. 217. Cons. Wöldike de ling. Grönland, p. -144, & seq. Act. Hafn. T. II. - -[125] Clarmont de Ære, Locis, & aquis Angliæ. Lond. 1672. 12. - -[126] Wotton’s Reflex, upon ancient and modern Learning, p. 4. Pope’s -Letter to Mr. Walsh, T. I. 74. - -[127] Lakemacher Observ. Philolog. P. III. Observ. IV. p. 250, &c. - -[128] - - Th’ impatient weapon whizzes on the wing; - Sounds the tough horn, and twangs the quiv’ring string, &c. - - POPE. - -[129] Longin. Περι ὑψ. Sect. 13. §. 1. - -[130] Odyss. λ. v. 71. Conf. Iliad, Γ. v. 363. & Eustath. ad h. l. p. -424. L. 10. edit. Rom. - -[131] Gregor. Thaumat. Orat. Paneg. ad Origen. 49. - -[132] Aristoph. Ran. v. 1485. - -[133] Athen. Deipnos. L. XII. c. 13. Ælian, V. H. I. ix. 14. - -[134] Aristoph. Equit. - -[135] Thucyd. L. II. c. 39. - -[136] Horat. L. II. Ep. I. v. 244. - -[137] Cicero de fato. c. 4. - -[138] Περι τοπων. p. 204. - -[139] Cicero Orat. c. 8. Conf. Dicæarch, Geogr. edit. H. Steph. c. 2. p. -16. - -[140] Nubes, v. 1365. - -[141] Schol. ad Aristoph. Nub. v. 1010. - -[142] Plutarch, de Sera Numin. Vindicta, p. 563. 9. - -[143] Cicero de Orat. - -[144] Golzius, Tab. XIV. T. II. - -[145] Diodorus Sic. L. XX. p. 763. al. 449. - -[146] Stukely’s Itinerar. III. p. 32. - -[147] Theophrast. Hist. Pl. L. IX. c. 16. p. 1131. l. 7. ed. Amst. 1644. -fol. Galen de Antidot. I. fol. 63. B. I. 28. Idem de Theriac. ad Pison. -fol. 85. A. I. 20. - -[148] Tournefort Voyage, Lett. I. p. 10. edit. Amst. - -[149] Belon. Observ. L. II. ch. 9. p. 151. a. - -[150] Idem. L. III. ch. 34. p. 350. b. Corn. le Brun. V. fol. p. 169. - -[151] Dicæarch. Geogr. c. 1. p. 1. - -[152] Voyage de Spon et Wheeler, T. II. p. 75, 76. - -[153] Wheeler’s Journey into Greece, p. 347. - -[154] Conf. Lysis, p. 499. Edit. Fref. 1602. - -[155] De Republ. - -[156] De Leg. L. VII. p. 892, l. 30-6. Conf. Petiti Leg. att. p. 296. -Maittaire Marm. Arund. p. 483. Gronov. ad Plaut. Bacchid. v. Ante Solem -Exorientem. - -[157] Galen, de Simpl. Medic. Facult. L. II. c. 5. fol. 9. A. Opp. Tom. -II. Frontin. Stratag. L. I. c. 7. - -[158] Lucian Gymn. p. 907. Opp. T. II. Edit. Reitz. - -[159] Dion. Halic. A. R. c. 1. §. 6. de vi dicendi in Demost. c. 29. -Edit. Oxon. - -[160] Ψ. v. 163. - -[161] Numism. Imp. p. 160. - -[162] Philostrat. Epist. 22. p. 922. Conf. Macrob. Sat. L. V. c. 18. p. -357. Edit. Lond. 1694. 8. Hygin. Sat. 12. - -[163] Conf. Arbuthnot’s Tabl. of Anc. Coins, ch. 6. p. 116. - -[164] Thucyd. L. I. c. 6. Eustath. ad Iliad. Ψ. p. 1324. l. 16. - -[165] Cyrilli Hieros. Catech. Mystag. II. c. 2, 3, 4. p. 284. ed. Thom. -Miles, Oxon. 1703. fol. 305. Vice Comitis Observ. de Antiq. Baptismi rit. -L. IV. c. 10. p. 286-89. Binghami Orig. Eccles. T. IV. L. XI. c. 11. -Godeau Hist. de l’Eglise, T. I. L. III. p. 623. - -[166] Lucian. Dial. Mort. X. §. 3. - -[167] Idem. Navig. E. 2. p. 248. - -[168] De la Chambre Discours; où il est prouvé que les François font les -plus capables de tous les peuples de la perfection de l’éloquence, p. 15. - -[169] Lucian, pro Imagin. p. 490. Edit. Reitz. T. II. - -[170] Cic. Brut. c. 7. & 83. - -[171] Considerations sur les Revolutions des Arts. Paris, 1755, p. 33. - -[172] Pagi. Discours sur l’Histoire Grecque, p. 45. - -[173] Nouveau Voyage d’Hollande, de l’Allem., de Suisse & d’Italie, par -M. de Blainville. - -[174] Richardson’s Account, &c. 294, 295. - -[175] Chambray Idée de la Peint. p. 46. au Mans, 1662. 4to. - -[176] Plin. Hist. Nat. L. XXXV. c. 10. - -[177] (Durand) Extrait de l’Histoire de la Peint. de Pline. p. 56. - -[178] Observat. sur les Arts & sur quelques morceaux de Peint. & de -Sculpt. exposés au Louvre, 1748. p. 65. - -[179] Nouvelle Division de la Terre par les différentes Espèces d’Hommes, -&c. dans le Journ. des Sçav. 1704. Avr. 152. - -[180] Plutarch. Vit. Æmil. p. 147. ed. Bryani. T. II. - -[181] Lucian. Navig. S. Votum. c. 2. p. 249. - -[182] Borghini Riposo, L. II. p. 129. - -[183] Chambray Idée de la Peint. p. 47. - -[184] Maxim. Tyr. Diss. 25. p. 303. Edit. Markl. - -[185] Vide Spectator, N. 418. - -[186] Philostrat. Icon. Anton. p. 91. - -[187] Plutarch. Ant. - -[188] Observat. sur les Arts, &c., p. 65. - -[189] Quintil. L. IX. c. 14. - -[190] Plutarch, Timoleon. P. 142. - -[191] Plutarch. Adul. & Amici discrim. p. 53. D. - -[192] Aristot. Rhet. L. I. c. 11. p. 61. Edit. Lond. 1619. 4to. Plato -Phæd. p. 46. I. 44. - -[193] Cicero Tusc. L. I. c. 28. - -[194] Aristot. Poet. c. 28. - -[195] Aristot. Rhet. III. c. 2. §. 4. - -[196] Herodot. L. II. c. 50. - -[197] Herodot. L. II. c. 3. c. 47. Conf. L. II. c. 61. Pausan. L. II. p. -71. l. 45. p. 114. l. 57. L. V. p. 317. l. 6. - -[198] Pausan. L. II. c. 17. p. 149. l. 24. - -[199] Arrian. Epict. L. III. c. 21. p. 439. Edit. Upton. - -[200] Plutarch, de Isid. & Osir. p. 355. Clem. Alex. Strom. L. V. p. 657, -58. Edit. Potteri. Ælian. Hist. Anim. L. 10. c. 15. - -[201] Plut. L. C. p. 376. Androvand. de Quadr. digit. Vivipar. L. III. p. -574. - -[202] Strabo, L. XVI. p. 760. al. 1104. - -[203] Pausan. L. III. p. 245. l. 21. - -[204] Kircher Oedip. Æg. T. III. p. 64. Lucian. Nav. 3 Vol. c. 1. Bayf. -de re Nav. p. 130. edit. Bas. 1537. 4. - -[205] Schaffer de re Nav. L. III. c. 3. p. 196. Passerii Luc. T. II. tab. -93. - -[206] Lactant. ad v. 253. L. VII. Thebaid. - -[207] Beger. Thes. Palat. p. 234. Numism. Musell. Reg. et Pop. T. 8. - -[208] Haym. Tesoro Britt. T. I. p. 168. - -[209] Ap. Philostr. Heroic. p. 693. - -[210] Vaillant Num. Colon. Rom. T. II. p. 136. Conf. Bianchini Istor. -Unic. p. 74. - -[211] Mus. Flor. T. I. Tab. 91. p. 175. - -[212] Petron. Sat. c. 34. - -[213] Spon. Miscell. Sect. I. Tab. 5. - -[214] Kircher Oedip. T. III. p. 555. Cuper de Elephant. Exercit. c. 3. p. -32. - -[215] In Extremis Gadibus. v. Eustath. ad II. A. p. 744. l. 4. ad. Rom. -Id. ad Dionys. Περιηγ. ad v. 453. p. 84. Ed. Oxon. 1712. - -[216] Kircher Oed. Æg. T. III. p. 555. - -[217] Horapoll. Hierogl. L. II. c. 84. - -[218] Cuper. l. c. Spanh. Diss. T. I, p. 169. - -[219] Agost, Dialog. II. p. 68. - -[220] Homer. ΟΔ. Ε., v. 121. Conf. Heraclid. Pontic. de Allegoria Homeri. -p. 492. Meurs. de funere. c. 7. - -[221] Venuti Num. max. moduli. T. 25. Rom. 1739. fol. Bellori Admir. fol. -30. - -[222] Pausan. L. X. p. 806. l. 16. - -[223] Licet. Gem. Anul. c. 48. - -[224] Beger. Theo. Brand. T. 1. p. 182. - -[225] Ibid. p. 281. - -[226] Justin. L. XV. c. 4. p. 412. edit. Gronov. - -[227] Spanh. Diss. T. I. p. 407. - -[228] Ap. D. C. de Moezinsky. - -[229] Paus. L. V. p. 447. l. 22. - -[230] Ibid. L. 1. p. 52. l. 4. - -[231] Pausan. L. III. p. 245. l. 20. Morel Specim. Rei. N. XII. - -[232] Spanhem. Diss. T. I. p. 154. - -[233] Spanhem. Obs. ad Juliani Imp. Orat. I. p. 282. - -[234] Montfaucon Ant. expl. T. III. - -[235] Morell. Specim. Rei Num. T. VIII. p. 92. - -[236] Artemidor. Oneirocr. L. II. c. 49. - -[237] Noct. Attic. L. XIV. c. 4. - -[238] Agost. Dialog. II. p. 45. Rom. 1650. fol. - -[239] Tristan. Comm. hist. de l’Emp. T. I. p. 297. - -[240] Numism. Musell. Imp. R. tab. 38. - -[241] Ibid. Tab. II. - -[242] Ibid. Tab. XXIX. Erisso Dichiaraz. di Medagl. ant. P. II. p. 130. - -[243] Plutarch Syll. p. 50, 51. - -[244] Conf. Philostrat. Imag. p. 737. - -[245] Plin. Hist. N. L. XVIII. c. 47. Agost. Dial. III. p. 104. - -[246] Gabriæ Fab. p. 169. in Æsop. Fab. Venet. 1709. 8. - -[247] Pausan. L. I. c. 43. p. 105. L. 7. - -[248] Plutarch. Sympos. L. IX. qu. 6. - -[249] Vaillant Numism. Imp. T. II. p. 133. - -[250] Plutarch. Vit. Thes. p. 26. - -[251] Agost. Dial. II. p. 66, 67. Numism. Musell. Imp. Rom. Tab. 115. - -[252] Ripa Iconol. n. 87. - -[253] Thesaur. de Arguta Dict. - -[254] Numism. Musell. Imp. R. Tab. 107. - -[255] Ibid. Tab. 106. - -[256] Ibid. Tab. 105. - -[257] Ripa Iconol. P. I. n. 53. - -[258] Agost. Dial. II. p. 57. Numism. Musell. l. c. Tab. 68. - -[259] Agost. l. c. - -[260] Ripa Ic. P. I. n. 135. - -[261] Agost. Dial. II. p. 47. - -[262] Ripa Iconol. P. I. n. 31. - -[263] Ibid. P. I. n. 25. - -[264] Vide Picinelli Mund. Symb. - -[265] Shaw Voyag. T. I. - -[266] Hayman Tesoro Brit. T. I. p. 219. - -[267] Egnatius de exempl. illustr. Vir. Venet. L. V. p. 133. - -[268] Numism. Barbar. Gent. n. 37. Padova. 1732. fol. - -[269] Medailles de Louis le Grand, a. 1663. Paris 1702. fol. - -[270] Thesaur. de Argut. Dict. - -[271] Ripa Iconol. P. II. p. 166. - -[272] Spectator, Edit. 1724. Vol. II. p. 201. - -[273] Canini Imag. des Heros. N. I. - -[274] Stoch Pier. Grav. Pl. LI. - -[275] Pausan. L. X. p. 870. 871. - -[276] Vit. Thesei. p. 29. - -[277] De Monstrosa Amicitia respectu perfectionis inter Nic. Barbar. & -Marc. Trivisan. Venet. apud Franc. Baba. 1628. 4. - -[278] Vita Marcelli. Ortelii Capita Deor. L. II. fig. 41. - -[279] Thomasin. Donar. Vet. c. 5. - -[280] Plutarch. Quæst. Rom. P. 266. F. - -[281] Vulp. Latium. T. I. L. I. c. 27. p. 406. - -[282] Agostin. Dialog. II. p. 81. - -[283] Ibid. & Beger Obs. in Num. p. 56. - -[284] Iliad, i. v. 498. Conf. Heraclides Pontic. de Allegoria Homeri, p. -457, 58. - -[285] Architect. L. II. c. 8. - -[286] Vide Representatio Bibliothecæ Cesareæ Viennæ 1737. fol. obt. - -[287] This piece is engraved by Simmoneau Senior Cons. Lepicié Vies des -p. P. de R. T. I. p. 64. - -[288] Another representation of that story, and one of Poussin’s best -originals, is in the gallery of Dresden, in which the river god is -extremely advantageous to the composition of the whole. - -[289] Plin. - -[290] Plato Alcibiad. II. P. 457. l. 30. - -[291] Baldinucci, Notiz. de’ P. d. D. P. 118. Argenville seems not to -have understood the word, _Ciliegia_: he saw that it should be a symbol -of spring, and changed the cherry to a butterfly; the chief object of the -picture he omits, and talks only of the girl. - -[292] Lepiciè Vies des P. R. P. II. p. 17, 18. - -[293] Recueil d’Estamp. de la Gall. de Dresd. fol. 48. - -[294] Pompa & Introitus Ferdinandi Hisp. Inf. p. 15. Antv. 1641. fol. - -[295] Vasari vite. P. III. Vol. I. p. 76. - -[296] Chambray Idée de la P. p. 107, 108. Bellori Descriz. delle Imagini -dip. da Raffaello, &c. - -[297] Heraclid. Pontic. de Allegoria Homeri, p. 443. - -[298] Josephi Antiq. L. XIV. c. 8. Edit. Haverc. - -[299] Dati vite de’ Pittori. p. 73. - -[300] Thesaur. Idea Arg. Dict. C. III. p. 84. - -[301] Blondel Maisons de Plaisance, T. II. p. 26. - -[302] Passerii Lucernæ fict. Tab. 51. - -[303] Quellinus Maison de la Ville d’Amst. 1655. fol. - -[304] Arnob., adv. Gentes L. V. p. 157. Edit. Lugd. 1651. 4. - -[305] An ox-head on the reverse of an Attick gold coin, stamped with the -head of Hercules and his club, is supposed to allude to his labours, -(Haym. Tesoro Britt. l. 182.) and to be, in general, a symbol of -strength, industry, or patience, (Hypnerotomachia Polyphili. Venet. Ald. -fol.) - -[306] Vitruv. L. I. c. 2. - -[307] Diodor. Sic. L. XIII. p. 375. al. 507. - -[308] Blondel Maisons de Plaisance. - -[309] Vide Spectator, No. 51. - -[310] Pausan. L. I. c. 43. l. 22. - -[311] Plin. Hist. N. L. XXXVI. c. 5. - -[312] Paus. L. II. c. 2. P. 115. l. 11. - -[313] Idem. L. IX. c. 40. P. 795. l. 11. - -[314] Aldrovand. de Quadrup. bisulc. p. 141. - -[315] Bellori Lucern. Sepulcr. P. I. fig. 17. - -[316] Spon. Misc. Sect. II. Art. I. P. 25. - -[317] Vide Buonarotti Osserv. sopra alcuni Medagli. Proem. p. XXVI. Roma. -1693. 4. - -[318] Plutarch. de Garrulit. p. 502. - -[319] Tristan Comment. Hist. des Emper. T. I. p. 632. - -[320] Plutarch. Marcell. p. 277. - -[321] Vulpii Latium, T. II. L. II. c. 20. p. 175. - -[322] Banier Mythol. T. II. L. I. ch. 11. p. 181. - -[323] Dioscorid. de Re Med. L. V. c. 179. - -[324] Fred. Oeser, one of the most extensive geniuses which the present -age can boast of, is a German, and now lives at Dresden; where, to -the honour of his country, and the emolument of the art, he gets his -livelihood by teaching young blockheads, of the Saxon-race, the elements -of drawing; and by etching after the Flemish painters. N. of Transl. - -[325] Hymn. in Apoll. - -[326] Alexander, in his S. John, in _St. Andrea della Valle_ at Rome; -Niobe, in a picture belonging to the _Tesoro di S. Gennaro_, at Naples. - -[327] So are the goddesses of the Theopægnia at Blenheim, in Oxfordshire; -and hence it is clear, that another Venus, analogous to that in the -Tribuna, among the pictures of a gentleman in London, cannot be the -production of that genius-in-flesh only. This daughter of the Idalian -graces seems to thrill with inward pleasure, and to recollect a night of -bliss—— - - There is language in her eye, her cheek, her lip: - Nay, her foot speaks—— - - SHAKESPEAR. - -[328] Veron. illustr. P. III. c. 7. p. 269. - -[329] “Et toi, rival des Praxiteles & des Phidias; toi dont les anciens -auroient employé le ciseau à leur faire des dieux capables d’excuser à -nos yeux leur idolatrie; inimitable Pigal, ta main se résoudra a vendre -des magots, ou il faudra qu’elle demeure oisive.” J. J. Rousseau Disc. -sur le Retabl. d. A. S. &c. - -This, my dear countryman! is the only passage of thine, where posterity -will find the orator forgot the philosopher. N. of Tr. - - -THE END. - - - - -ERRATA. - - - Page 20. Line 13. _for_ comma _after_ says, _place_ semi-colon. - - P. 61. L. 7. _for_ Morte _read_ Morto. - - P. 83. Note, _for_ Bernoue _read_ Bernoull. - - P. 94. L. 3. _after_ Nature _add a_ colon—_after_ flat _add_ it. - - P. 105. L. 10. _dele_ Lucian, Ep. I. - - P. 166. Note f. _instead of_ ὈΔ. Τ. v. 230. _read_ Ψ. v. 163. - - P. 181. L. 13. _for_ on _read_ in. - - P. 189. L. 20. _for_ or _read_ on. - - P. 197. Note d. _for_ adv. _read_ ad v. - - P. 227. L. 12. _for_ the _read_ her. - - -Transcriber’s Note - -The errata have been corrected. The notes referenced above are, with the -new numbering in this e-text, notes 26, 160 and 206. - -List of other changes made to the text: - - Page 5, repeated “a” removed (Take a Spartan youth) - - Page 48, “hindred” changed to “hindered” (as much water as - hindered) - - Page 62, “barenness” changed to “barrenness” (’Tis an - abhorrence of barrenness) - - Page 89, “celelebrated” changed to “celebrated” (his celebrated - Carton of the Pisan war) - - Page 174, “Parrhabasius” changed to “Parrhasius” (Parrhasius, - compared with himself) - - Page 187, “Rembrant” changed to “Rembrandt” (some pieces of - Rembrandt and Vandyke) - - Page 229, “born” changed to “borne” (Spain is borne down by the - current) - - Page 259, repeated “a” removed (though a few only find it) - - Page 270, repeated “the” removed (in the temple of art and - genius) - - Footnote 7, “Barnini” changed to “Bernini” (Vita del Cav. - Bernini) - - Footnote 329, “si” changed to “sur” (Rousseau Disc. sur le - Retabl. d. A. S. &c.) - -Archaic spellings remain as printed. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Reflections on the painting and sculpture of the Greeks: - with instructions for the connoisseur, and an essay on - grace in works of art - -Author: Johann Joachim Winckelmann - -Translator: Henry Fusseli - -Release Date: February 4, 2020 [EBook #61317] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAINTING, SCULPTURE OF THE GREEKS *** - - - - -Produced by Turgut Dincer and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[i]</a></span></p> - -<h1>REFLECTIONS<br /> -<span class="smaller">ON THE</span><br /> -PAINTING<br /> -<span class="smaller">AND</span><br /> -SCULPTURE<br /> -<span class="smaller">OF THE</span><br /> -<span class="gesperrt"><i>GREEKS</i></span>.</h1> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[ii]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> - -<p class="titlepage larger">REFLECTIONS<br /> -<span class="smaller">ON THE</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Painting</span> and <span class="smcap">Sculpture</span><br /> -<span class="smaller">OF</span><br /> -THE GREEKS:<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smaller">WITH</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">Instructions</span> for the <span class="smcap">Connoisseur</span>,<br /> -<span class="smaller">AND</span><br /> -An <span class="smcap">Essay</span> on <span class="smcap">Grace</span> in Works of Art.</span></p> - -<p class="titlepage">Translated from<br /> -The <i>German</i> Original of the Abbé <span class="smcap"><em class="gesperrt">Winkelmann</em></span>,<br /> -Librarian of the <span class="smcap"><em class="gesperrt">Vatican</em></span>, F. R. S. &c. &c.</p> - -<p class="titlepage">By <em class="gesperrt">HENRY FUSSELI</em>, A.M.</p> - -<div class="figcenter titlepage" style="width: 350px;"> -<img src="images/tp.jpg" width="350" height="275" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p class="titlepage">LONDON:<br /> -Printed for the <span class="smcap">Translator</span>, and Sold by <span class="smcap">A. Millar</span>,<br /> -in the Strand, 1765.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> - -<h2>TO<br /> -The Lord <span class="smcap"><em class="gesperrt">Scarsdale</em></span>.</h2> - -<p class="noindent"><span class="smcap">My Lord</span>,</p> - -<p class="dropcap">With becoming gratitude -for your Lordship’s condescension -in granting such a noble -Asylum to a Stranger, I humbly -presume to shelter this Translation -under your Lordship’s Patronage.</p> - -<p>If I have been able to do justice -to my Author, your Lordship’s -accurate Jugment, and fine Taste, -will naturally protect his Work: -But I must rely wholly on your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span> -known Candour and Goodness for -the pardon of many imperfections -in the language.</p> - -<p>I am, with the most profound -respect,</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">My Lord</span>,</p> - -<p class="center">Your <span class="smcap">Lordship’s</span></p> - -<p class="center">Most obliged, most obedient, and most humble Servant,</p> - -<p class="right">Henry Fusseli.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">London</span>,<br /> -10 April, 1765.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[1]</a></span></p> - -<div class="illustrated-border"> -<p class="graiis">GRAIIS INGENIUM<br />&c.</p> -</div> - -<h2><span class="smaller">ON THE</span><br /> -IMITATION<br /> -<span class="smaller">OF THE<br /> -<span class="smcap">Painting</span> and <span class="smcap">Sculpture</span> of the GREEKS.</span></h2> - -<h3>I. <span class="smcap">Nature.</span></h3> - -<p class="dropcap">To the Greek climate we owe the -production of <span class="smcap"><em class="gesperrt">Taste</em></span>, and from -thence it spread at length over all the politer -world. Every invention, communicated by -foreigners to that nation, was but the feed -of what it became afterwards, changing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[2]</a></span> -both its nature and size in a country, chosen, -as <i>Plato</i><a name="FNanchor_1" id="FNanchor_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> says, by Minerva, to be inhabited -by the Greeks, as productive of every kind -of genius.</p> - -<p>But this <span class="smcap"><em class="gesperrt">Taste</em></span> was not only original -among the Greeks, but seemed also quite -peculiar to their country: it seldom went -abroad without loss; and was long ere it -imparted its kind influences to more distant -climes. It was, doubtless, a stranger to the -northern zones, when Painting and Sculpture, -those offsprings of Greece, were despised -there to such a degree, that the most -valuable pieces of <i>Corregio</i> served only for -blinds to the windows of the royal stables -at Stockholm.</p> - -<p>There is but one way for the moderns to -become great, and perhaps unequalled; I -mean, by imitating the antients. And what -we are told of <i>Homer</i>, that whoever understands -him well, admires him, we find no -less true in matters concerning the antient, -especially the Greek arts. But then we must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[3]</a></span> -be as familiar with them as with a friend, -to find Laocoon as inimitable as <i>Homer</i>. By -such intimacy our judgment will be that of -<i>Nicomachus</i>: <i>Take these eyes</i>, replied he to -some paltry critick, censuring the Helen of -Zeuxis, <i>Take my eyes, and she will appear a -goddess</i>.</p> - -<p>With such eyes <i>Michael Angelo</i>, <i>Raphael</i>, -and <i>Poussin</i>, considered the performances of -the antients. They imbibed taste at its -source; and Raphael particularly in its native -country. We know, that he sent -young artists to Greece, to copy there, for -his use, the remains of antiquity.</p> - -<p>An antient Roman statue, compared to -a Greek one, will generally appear like -<i>Virgil</i>’s Diana amidst her Oreads, in comparison -of the Nausicaa of <i>Homer</i>, whom -he imitated.</p> - -<p>Laocoon was the standard of the Roman -artists, as well as ours; and the rules of -<i>Polycletus</i> became the rules of art.</p> - -<p>I need not put the reader in mind of the -negligences to be met with in the most celebrated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[4]</a></span> -antient performances: the Dolphin -at the feet of the Medicean Venus, with the -children, and the Parerga of the Diomedes -by <i>Dioscorides</i>, being commonly known. -The reverse of the best Egyptian and Syrian -coins seldom equals the head, in point of -workmanship. Great artists are wisely negligent, -and even their errors instruct. Behold -their works as <i>Lucian</i> bids you behold -the Zeus of <i>Phidias</i>; <i>Zeus himself, not his -footstool</i>.</p> - -<p>It is not only <i>Nature</i> which the votaries -of the Greeks find in their works, but still -more, something superior to nature; ideal -beauties, brain-born images, as <i>Proclus</i> says<a name="FNanchor_2" id="FNanchor_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>.</p> - -<p>The most beautiful body of ours would -perhaps be as much inferior to the most -beautiful Greek one, as Iphicles was to his -brother Hercules. The forms of the Greeks, -prepared to beauty, by the influence of the -mildest and purest sky, became perfectly -elegant by their early exercises. Take a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[5]</a></span> -Spartan youth, sprung from heroes, undistorted -by swaddling-cloths; whose bed, -from his seventh year, was the earth, familiar -with wrestling and swimming from his -infancy; and compare him with one of our -young Sybarits, and then decide which of -the two would be deemed worthy, by an -artist, to serve for the model of a Theseus, -an Achilles, or even a Bacchus. The latter -would produce a Theseus fed on roses, -the former a Theseus fed on flesh, to borrow -the expression of <i>Euphranor</i>.</p> - -<p>The grand games were always a very -strong incentive for every Greek youth to -exercise himself. Whoever aspired to the -honours of these was obliged, by the laws, to -submit to a trial of ten months at Elis, the -general rendezvous; and there the first rewards -were commonly won by youths, as -<i>Pindar</i> tells us.<a name="FNanchor_3" id="FNanchor_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a><i>To be like the God-like Diagoras</i>, -was the fondest wish of every youth.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[6]</a></span></p> - -<p>Behold the swift Indian outstripping in -pursuit the hart: how briskly his juices circulate! -how flexible, how elastic his nerves -and muscles! how easy his whole frame! -Thus <i>Homer</i> draws his heroes, and his -Achilles he eminently marks for “being -swift of foot.”</p> - -<p>By these exercises the bodies of the Greeks -got the great and manly Contour observed -in their statues, without any bloated corpulency. -The young Spartans were bound -to appear every tenth day naked before the -Ephori, who, when they perceived any inclinable -to fatness, ordered them a scantier -diet; nay, it was one of <i>Pythagoras</i>’s precepts, -to beware of growing too corpulent; -and, perhaps for the same reason, youths -aspiring to wrestling-games were, in the remoter -ages of Greece, during their trial, confined -to a milk diet.</p> - -<p>They were particularly cautious in avoiding -every deforming custom; and <i>Alcibiades</i>, -when a boy, refusing to learn to play on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span> -the flute, for fear of its discomposing his -features, was followed by all the youth of -Athens.</p> - -<p>In their dress they were professed followers -of nature. No modern stiffening habit, no -squeezing stays hindered Nature from forming -easy beauty; the fair knew no anxiety -about their attire, and from their loose and -short habits the Spartan girls got the epithet -of Phænomirides.</p> - -<p>We know what pains they took to have -handsome children, but want to be acquainted -with their methods: for certainly <i>Quillet</i>, in -his Callipædy, falls short of their numerous -expedients. They even attempted changing -blue eyes to black ones, and games of -beauty were exhibited at Elis, the rewards -consisting of arms consecrated to the temple -of Minerva. How could they miss of competent -and learned judges, when, as <i>Aristotle</i> -tells us, the Grecian youths were taught -drawing expressly for that purpose? From -their fine complexion, which, though mingled<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> -with a vast deal of foreign blood, is still -preserved in most of the Greek islands, and -from the still enticing beauty of the fair sex, -especially at Chios; we may easily form an -idea of the beauty of the former inhabitants, -who boasted of being Aborigines, nay, -more antient than the moon.</p> - -<p>And are not there several modern nations, -among whom beauty is too common to give -any title to pre-eminence? Such are unanimously -accounted the Georgians and the Kabardinski -in the Crim.</p> - -<p>Those diseases which are destructive of -beauty, were moreover unknown to the -Greeks. There is not the least hint of the -small-pox, in the writings of their physicians; -and <i>Homer</i>, whose portraits are always -so truly drawn, mentions not one pitted -face. Venereal plagues, and their daughter -the English malady, had not yet names.</p> - -<p>And must we not then, considering every -advantage which nature bestows, or art -teaches, for forming, preserving, and improving<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> -beauty, enjoyed and applied by -the Grecians; must we not then confess, -there is the strongest probability that the -beauty of their persons excelled all we can -have an idea of?</p> - -<p>Art claims liberty: in vain would nature -produce her noblest offsprings, in a country -where rigid laws would choak her progressive -growth, as in Egypt, that pretended -parent of sciences and arts: but in Greece, -where, from their earliest youth, the happy -inhabitants were devoted to mirth and pleasure, -where narrow-spirited formality never -restrained the liberty of manners, the artist -enjoyed nature without a veil.</p> - -<p>The Gymnasies, where, sheltered by public -modesty, the youths exercised themselves -naked, were the schools of art. These the -philosopher frequented, as well as the artist. -<i>Socrates</i> for the instruction of a Charmides, -Autolycus, Lysis; <i>Phidias</i> for the improvement -of his art by their beauty. Here he -studied the elasticity of the muscles, the ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> -varying motions of the frame, the outlines -of fair forms, or the Contour left by the -young wrestler on the sand. Here beautiful -nakedness appeared with such a liveliness of -expression, such truth and variety of situations, -such a noble air of the body, as it -would be ridiculous to look for in any hired -model of our academies.</p> - -<p>Truth springs from the feelings of the -heart. What shadow of it therefore can -the modern artist hope for, by relying upon -a vile model, whose soul is either too base -to feel, or too stupid to express the passions, -the sentiment his object claims? unhappy -he! if experience and fancy fail him.</p> - -<p>The beginning of many of <i>Plato</i>’s dialogues, -supposed to have been held in the -Gymnasies, cannot raise our admiration of -the generous souls of the Athenian youth, -without giving us, at the same time, a strong -presumption of a suitable nobleness in their -outward carriage and bodily exercises.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> - -<p>The fairest youths danced undressed on the -theatre; and <i>Sophocles</i>, the great <i>Sophocles</i>, -when young, was the first who dared to entertain -his fellow-citizens in this manner. -<i>Phryne</i> went to bathe at the Eleusinian -games, exposed to the eyes of all Greece, -and rising from the water became the model -of Venus Anadyomene. During certain solemnities -the young Spartan maidens danced -naked before the young men: strange this -may seem, but will appear more probable, -when we consider that the christians of the -primitive church, both men and women, -were dipped together in the same font.</p> - -<p>Then every solemnity, every festival, afforded -the artist opportunity to familiarize -himself with all the beauties of Nature.</p> - -<p>In the most happy times of their freedom, -the humanity of the Greeks abhorred -bloody games, which even in the Ionick -Asia had ceased long before, if, as some -guess, they had once been usual there. <i>Antiochus -Epiphanes</i>, by ordering shews of Roman<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> -gladiators, first presented them with -such unhappy victims; and custom and -time, weakening the pangs of sympathizing -humanity, changed even these games into -schools of art. There <i>Ctesias</i> studied his -dying gladiator, in whom you might descry -“how much life was still left in him<a name="FNanchor_4" id="FNanchor_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a>.”</p> - -<p>These frequent occasions of observing Nature, -taught the Greeks to go on still farther. -They began to form certain general ideas of -beauty, with regard to the proportions of -the inferiour parts, as well as of the whole -frame: these they raised above the reach of -mortality, according to the superiour model -of some ideal nature.</p> - -<p>Thus <i>Raphael</i> formed his Galatea, as we -learn by his letter to Count Baltazar Castiglione<a name="FNanchor_5" id="FNanchor_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a>, -where he says, “Beauty being so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> -seldom found among the fair, I avail myself -of a certain ideal image.”</p> - -<p>According to those ideas, exalted above -the pitch of material models, the Greeks -formed their gods and heroes: the profile of -the brow and nose of gods and goddesses is -almost a streight line. The same they gave -on their coins to queens, &c. but without -indulging their fancy too much. Perhaps -this profile was as peculiar to the antient -Greeks, as flat noses and little eyes to the -Calmucks and Chinese; a supposition which -receives some strength from the large eyes -of all the heads on Greek coins and gems.</p> - -<p>From the same ideas the Romans formed -their Empresses on their coins. Livia -and Agrippina have the profile of Artemisia -and Cleopatra.</p> - -<p>We observe, nevertheless, that the Greek -artists in general, submitted to the law prescribed -by the Thebans: “To do, under -a penalty, their best in imitating Nature.” -For, where they could not possibly apply<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> -their easy profile, without endangering the -resemblance, they followed Nature, as we -see instanced in the beauteous head of Julia, -the daughter of Titus, done by <i>Euodus</i><a name="FNanchor_6" id="FNanchor_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a>.</p> - -<p>But to form a “just resemblance, and, -at the same time, a handsomer one,” being -always the chief rule they observed, and -which <i>Polygnotus</i> constantly went by; they -must, of necessity, be supposed to have had -in view a more beauteous and more perfect -Nature. And when we are told, that some -artists imitated <i>Praxiteles</i>, who took his concubine -<i>Cratina</i> for the model of his Cnidian -Venus; or that others formed the graces -from <i>Lais</i>; it is to be understood that they -did so, without neglecting these great laws -of the art. Sensual beauty furnished the -painter with all that nature could give; ideal -beauty with the awful and sublime; from -that he took the <i>Humane</i>, from this the -<i>Divine</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> - -<p>Let any one, sagacious enough to pierce -into the depths of art, compare the whole -system of the Greek figures with that of the -moderns, by which, as they say, nature alone -is imitated; good heaven! what a number -of neglected beauties will he not discover!</p> - -<p>For instance, in most of the modern -figures, if the skin happens to be any where -pressed, you see there several little smart -wrinkles: when, on the contrary, the same -parts, pressed in the same manner on Greek -statues, by their soft undulations, form at -last but one noble pressure. These master-pieces -never shew us the skin forcibly stretched, -but softly embracing the firm flesh, which -fills it up without any tumid expansion, and -harmoniously follows its direction. There -the skin never, as on modern bodies, appears -in plaits distinct from the flesh.</p> - -<p>Modern works are likewise distinguished -from the antient by parts; a crowd of small -touches and dimples too sensibly drawn. In -antient works you find these distributed with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -sparing sagacity, and, as relative to a completer -and more perfect Nature, offered -but as hints, nay, often perceived only by -the learned.</p> - -<p>The probability still increases, that the -bodies of the Greeks, as well as the works -of their artists, were framed with more unity -of system, a nobler harmony of parts, and -a completeness of the whole, above our -lean tensions and hollow wrinkles.</p> - -<p>Probability, ’tis true, is all we can pretend -to: but it deserves the attention of our -artists and connoisseurs the rather, as the veneration -professed for the antient monuments -is commonly imputed to prejudice, and not -to their excellence; as if the numerous -ages, during which they have mouldered, -were the only motive for bestowing on them -exalted praises, and setting them up for the -standards of imitation.</p> - -<p>Such as would fain deny to the Greeks -the advantages both of a more perfect Nature -and of ideal Beauties, boast of the famous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> -<i>Bernini</i>, as their great champion. He -was of opinion, besides, that Nature was -possessed of every requisite beauty: the only -skill being to discover that. He boasted -of having got rid of a prejudice concerning -the Medicean Venus, whose charms he at -first thought peculiar ones; but, after many -careful researches, discovered them now and -then in Nature<a name="FNanchor_7" id="FNanchor_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a>.</p> - -<p>He was taught then, by the Venus, to -discover beauties in common Nature, which -he had formerly thought peculiar to that -statue, and but for it, never would have searched -for them. Follows it not from thence, that -the beauties of the Greek statues being discovered -with less difficulty than those of Nature, -are of course more affecting; not so -diffused, but more harmoniously united? -and if this be true, the pointing out of Nature -as chiefly imitable, is leading us into -a more tedious and bewildered road to the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -knowledge of perfect beauty, than setting up -the ancients for that purpose: consequently -<i>Bernini</i>, by adhering too strictly to Nature, -acted against his own principles, as well as -obstructed the progress of his disciples.</p> - -<p>The imitation of beauty is either reduced -to a single object, and is <i>individual</i>, or, gathering -observations from single ones, <i>composes -of these one whole</i>. The former we call -copying, drawing a portrait; ’tis the straight -way to Dutch forms and figures; whereas -the other leads to general beauty, and its -ideal images, and is the way the Greeks took. -But there is still this difference between them -and us: they enjoying daily occasions of -seeing beauty, (suppose even not superior -to ours,) acquired those ideal riches with -less toil than we, confined as we are to a -few and often fruitless opportunities, ever -can hope for. It would be no easy matter, -I fancy, for our nature, to produce a frame -equal in beauty to that of Antinous; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -surely no idea can soar above the more than -human proportions of a deity, in the Apollo -of the Vatican, which is a compound of the -united force of Nature, Genius, and Art.</p> - -<p>Their imitation discovering in the one -every beauty diffused through Nature, shewing -in the other the pitch to which the -most perfect Nature can elevate herself, -when soaring above the senses, will quicken -the genius of the artist, and shorten his -discipleship: he will learn to think and -draw with confidence, seeing here the fixed -limits of human and divine beauty.</p> - -<p>Building on this ground, his hand and -senses directed by the Greek rule of beauty, -the modern artist goes on the surest way to -the imitation of Nature. The ideas of -unity and perfection, which he acquired in -meditating on antiquity, will help him to -combine, and to ennoble the more scattered -and weaker beauties of our Nature. Thus -he will improve every beauty he discovers in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -it, and by comparing the beauties of nature -with the ideal, form rules for himself.</p> - -<p>Then, and not sooner, he, particularly -the painter, may be allowed to commit himself -to Nature, especially in cases where his -art is beyond the instruction of the old marbles, -to wit, in drapery; then, like <i>Poussin</i>, -he may proceed with more liberty; for “a -timid follower will never get the start of -his leaders, and he who is at a loss to -produce something of his own, will be -a bad manager of the productions of another,” -as <i>Michael Angelo</i> says; Minds -favoured by Nature,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent5"><i>Quibus Arte benigna,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Et meliore luto, finxit præcordia Titan,</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">have here a plain way to become originals.</p> - -<p>Thus the account <i>de Piles</i> gives, ought -to be understood, that <i>Raphael</i>, a short time -before he was carried off by death, intended -to forsake the marbles, in order to addict -himself wholly to Nature. True antient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -taste would most certainly have guided him -through every maze of common Nature; -and whatever observations, whatever new -ideas he might have reaped from that, they -would all, by a kind of chymical transmutation, -have been changed to his own essence -and soul.</p> - -<p>He, perhaps, might have indulged more -variety; enlarged his draperies; improved -his colours, his light and shadow: but none -of these improvements would have raised -his pictures to that high esteem they deserve, -for that noble Contour, and that sublimity -of thoughts, which he acquired from the -ancients.</p> - -<p>Nothing would more decisively prove the -advantages to be got by imitating the ancients, -preferably to Nature, than an essay -made with two youths of equal talents, by -devoting the one to antiquity, the other to -Nature: this would draw Nature as he -finds her; if Italian, perhaps he might paint -like <i>Caravaggio</i>; if Flemish, and lucky,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> -like <i>Jac. Jordans</i>; if French, like <i>Stella</i>: -the other would draw her as she directs, -and paint like <i>Raphael</i>.</p> - -<h3>II. <span class="smcap">Contour.</span></h3> - -<p class="dropcap">But even supposing that the imitation -of Nature could supply all the artist -wants, she never could bestow the precision -of Contour, that characteristic distinction of -the ancients.</p> - -<p>The noblest Contour unites or circumscribes -every part of the most perfect Nature, -and the ideal beauties in the figures of the -Greeks; or rather, contains them both. -<i>Euphranor</i>, famous after the epoch of <i>Zeuxis</i>, -is said to have first ennobled it.</p> - -<p>Many of the moderns have attempted to -imitate this Contour, but very few with success. -The great <i>Rubens</i> is far from having -attained either its precision or elegance, especially -in the performances which he finished<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> -before he went to Italy, and studied the antiques.</p> - -<p>The line by which Nature divides completeness -from superfluity is but a small one, -and, insensible as it often is, has been crossed -even by the best moderns; while these, in -shunning a meagre Contour, became corpulent, -those, in shunning that, grew lean.</p> - -<p>Among them all, only <i>Michael Angelo</i>, -perhaps, may be said to have attained the -antique; but only in strong muscular figures, -heroic frames; not in those of tender youth; -nor in female bodies, which, under his bold -hand, grew Amazons.</p> - -<p>The Greek artist, on the contrary, adjusted -his Contour, in every figure, to the -breadth of a single hair, even in the nicest -and most tiresome performances, as gems. -Consider the Diomedes and Perseus of <i>Dioscorides</i><a name="FNanchor_8" id="FNanchor_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>, -Hercules and Iole by <i>Teucer</i><a name="FNanchor_9" id="FNanchor_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a>, and -admire the inimitable Greeks.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>Parrhasius</i>, they say, was master of the -correctest Contour.</p> - -<p>This Contour reigns in Greek figures, -even when covered with drapery, as the -chief aim of the artist; the beautiful frame -pierces the marble like a transparent <i>Coan</i> -cloth.</p> - -<p>The high-stiled Agrippina, and the three -vestals in the royal cabinet at Dresden, deserve -to be mentioned as eminent proofs of -this. This Agrippina seems not the mother -of Nero, but an elder one, the spouse of -Germanicus. She much resembles another -pretended Agrippina, in the parlour of the -library of St. Marc, at Venice<a name="FNanchor_10" id="FNanchor_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a>. Ours is a -sitting figure, above the size of Nature, her -head inclined on her right hand; her fine -face speaks a soul “pining in thought,” absorbed -in pensive sorrow, and senseless to -every outward impression. The artist, I -suppose, intended to draw his heroine in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -mournful moment she received the news of -her banishment to Pandataria.</p> - -<p>The three vestals deserve our esteem from -a double title: as being the first important -discoveries of Herculaneum, and models of -the sublimest drapery. All three, but particularly -one above the natural size, would, -with regard to that, be worthy companions -of the Farnesian <i>Flora</i>, and all the other -boasts of antiquity. The two others seem, -by their resemblance to each other, productions -of the same hand, only distinguished -by their heads, which are not of equal goodness. -On the best the curled hairs, running -in furrows from the forehead, are tied on -the neck: on the other the hair being smooth -on the scalp, and curled on the front, is -gathered behind, and tied with a ribband: -this head seems of a modern hand, but a -good one.</p> - -<p>There is no veil on these heads; but that -makes not against their being vestals: for -the priestesses of Vesta (I speak on proof)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -were not always veiled; or rather, as the -drapery seems to betray, the veil, which -was of one piece with the garments, being -thrown backwards, mingles with the cloaths -on the neck.</p> - -<p>’Tis to these three inimitable pieces that -the world owes the first hints of the ensuing -discovery of the subterranean treasures of -Herculaneum.</p> - -<p>Their discovery happened when the -same ruins that overwhelmed the town had -nearly extinguished the unhappy remembrance -of it: when the tremendous fate that -spoke its doom was only known by the account -which Pliny gives of his uncle’s -death.</p> - -<p>These great master-pieces of the Greek -art were transplanted, and worshipped in Germany, -long before Naples could boast of one -single Herculanean monument.</p> - -<p>They were discovered in the year 1706 at -Portici near Naples, in a ruinous vault, on -occasion of digging the foundations of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -villa, for the Prince d’Elbeuf, and immediately, -with other new discovered marble -and metal statues, came into the possession -of Prince Eugene, and were transported to -Vienna.</p> - -<p>Eugene, who well knew their value, provided -a Sala Terrena to be built expressly for -them, and a few others: and so highly were -they esteemed, that even on the first rumour -of their sale, the academy and the artists -were in an uproar, and every body, when -they were transported to Dresden, followed -them with heavy eyes.</p> - -<p>The famous <i>Matielli</i>, to whom</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>His rule Polyclet, his chissel Phidias gave,</i></div> -<div class="attr">Algarotti.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">copied them in clay before their removal, -and following them some years after, filled -Dresden with everlasting monuments of his -art: but even there he studied the drapery -of his priestesses, (drapery his chief skill!) -till he laid down his chissel, and thus gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> -the most striking proof of their excellence.</p> - -<h3>III. <span class="smcap">Drapery.</span></h3> - -<p class="dropcap">By Drapery is to be understood all that the -art teaches of covering the nudities, and -folding the garments; and this is the third -prerogative of the ancients.</p> - -<p>The Drapery of the vestals above, is grand -and elegant. The smaller foldings spring gradually -from the larger ones, and in them are -lost again, with a noble freedom, and gentle -harmony of the whole, without hiding -the correct Contour. How few of the moderns -would stand the test here!</p> - -<p>Justice, however, shall not be refused to -some great modern artists, who, without impairing -nature or truth, have left, in certain -cases, the road which the ancients generally -pursued. The Greek Drapery, in order -to help the Contour, was, for the most part, -taken from thin and wet garments, which of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -course clasped the body, and discovered the -shape. The robe of the Greek ladies was extremely -thin; thence its epithet of Peplon.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless the reliefs, the pictures, and -particularly the busts of the ancients, are instances -that they did not always keep to this -undulating Drapery<a name="FNanchor_11" id="FNanchor_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a>.</p> - -<p>In modern times the artists were forced -to heap garments, and sometimes heavy -ones, on each other, which of course could -not fall into the flowing folds of the ancients. -Hence the large-folded Drapery, by -which the painter and sculptor may display -as much skill as by the ancient manner. -<i>Carlo Marat</i> and <i>Francis Solimena</i> may -be called the chief masters of it: but the -garments of the new Venetian school, by -passing the bounds of nature and propriety, -became stiff as brass.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> - -<h3>IV. <span class="smcap">Expression.</span></h3> - -<p class="dropcap">The last and most eminent characteristic -of the Greek works is a noble simplicity -and sedate grandeur in Gesture and Expression. -As the bottom of the sea lies -peaceful beneath a foaming surface, a great -soul lies sedate beneath the strife of passions -in Greek figures.</p> - -<p>’Tis in the face of Laocoon this soul -shines with full lustre, not confined however -to the face, amidst the most violent -sufferings. Pangs piercing every muscle, -every labouring nerve; pangs which we almost -feel ourselves, while we consider—not -the face, nor the most expressive parts—only -the belly contracted by excruciating -pains: these however, I say, exert not themselves -with violence, either in the face or -gesture. He pierces not heaven, like the -Laocoon of <i>Virgil</i>; his mouth is rather -opened to discharge an anxious overloaded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -groan, as <i>Sadolet</i> says; the struggling body -and the supporting mind exert themselves -with equal strength, nay balance all the -frame.</p> - -<p>Laocoon suffers, but suffers like the Philoctetes -of <i>Sophocles</i>: we weeping feel his -pains, but wish for the hero’s strength to -support his misery.</p> - -<p>The Expression of so great a soul is beyond -the force of mere nature. It was in -his own mind the artist was to search for -the strength of spirit with which he marked -his marble. Greece enjoyed artists and philosophers -in the same persons; and the -wisdom of more than one Metrodorus directed -art, and inspired its figures with more -than common souls.</p> - -<p>Had Laocoon been covered with a garb -becoming an antient sacrificer, his sufferings -would have lost one half of their Expression. -<i>Bernini</i> pretended to perceive the first -effects of the operating venom in the numbness -of one of the thighs.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> - -<p>Every action or gesture in Greek figures, -not stamped with this character of sage dignity, -but too violent, too passioniate, was -called “Parenthyrsos.”</p> - -<p>For, the more tranquillity reigns in a body, -the fitter it is to draw the true character of -the soul; which, in every excessive gesture, -seems to rush from her proper centre, and -being hurried away by extremes becomes -unnatural. Wound up to the highest pitch -of passion, she may force herself upon the -duller eye; but the true sphere of her action -is simplicity and calmness. In Laocoon -sufferings alone had been Parenthyrsos; the -artist therefore, in order to reconcile the significative -and ennobling qualities of his soul, -put him into a posture, allowing for the sufferings -that were necessary, the next to a -state of tranquillity: a tranquillity however -that is characteristical: the soul will be herself—this -individual—not the soul of mankind; -sedate, but active; calm, but not indifferent -or drowsy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> - -<p>What a contrast! how diametrically opposite -to this is the taste of our modern artists, -especially the young ones! on nothing -do they bestow their approbation, but contorsions -and strange postures, inspired with -boldness; this they pretend is done with spirit, -with <i>Franchezza</i>. Contrast is the darling of -their ideas; in it they fancy every perfection. -They fill their performances with comet-like -excentric souls, despising every thing -but an Ajax or a Capaneus.</p> - -<p>Arts have their infancy as well as men; -they begin, as well as the artist, with froth -and bombast: in such buskins the muse of -Æschilus stalks, and part of the diction in -his Agamemnon is more loaded with hyperboles -than all Heraclitus’s nonsense. Perhaps -the primitive Greek painters drew in -the same manner that their first good tragedian -thought in.</p> - -<p>In all human actions flutter and rashness -precede, sedateness and solidity follow: -but time only can discover, and the judicious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -will admire these only: they are the -characteristics of great masters; violent passions -run away with their disciples.</p> - -<p>The sages in the art know the difficulties -hid under that air of easiness:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent11"><i>ut sibi quivis</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Speret idem, sudet multum, frustraque laboret</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Ausus idem.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent"><i>La Fage</i>, though an eminent designer, was -not able to attain the purity of ancient taste. -Every thing is animated in his works; they -demand, and at the same time dissipate, your -attention, like a company striving to talk -all at once.</p> - -<p>This noble simplicity and sedate grandeur -is also the true characteristical mark of the -best and maturest Greek writings, of the -epoch and school of <i>Socrates</i>. Possessed of -these qualities <i>Raphael</i> became eminently -great, and he owed them to the ancients.</p> - -<p>That great soul of his, lodged in a -beauteous body, was requisite for the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -discovery of the true character of the ancients: -he first felt all their beauties, and (what he -was peculiarly happy in!) at an age when -vulgar, unfeeling, and half-moulded souls -overlook every higher beauty.</p> - -<p>Ye that approach his works, teach your -eyes to be sensible of those beauties, refine -your taste by the true antique, and then -that solemn tranquillity of the chief figures -in his <i>Attila</i>, deemed insipid by the vulgar, -will appear to you equally significant and -sublime. The Roman bishop, in order to -divert the Hun from his design of assailing -Rome, appears not with the air of a Rhetor, -but as a venerable man, whose very presence -softens uproar into peace; like him drawn -by Virgil:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Tum pietate gravem ac meritis, si forte virum quem</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Conspexere, silent, adrectisque auribus adstant:</i></div> -<div class="attr">Æn. I.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">full of confidence in God, he faces down the -barbarian: the two Apostles descend not -with the air of slaughtering angels, but (if -sacred may be compared with profane) like -Jove, whose very nod shakes Olympus.</p> - -<p><i>Algardi</i>, in his celebrated representation -of the same story, done in bas-relief on an -altar in St. Peter’s church at Rome, was -either too negligent, or too weak, to give -this active tranquillity of his great predecessor -to the figures of his Apostles. There -they appear like messengers of the Lord of -Hosts: here like human warriors with mortal -arms.</p> - -<p>How few of those we call connoisseurs -have ever been able to understand, and sincerely -to admire, the grandeur of expression -in the St. <i>Michael of Guido</i>, in the church -of the Capuchins at Rome! they prefer -commonly the Archangel of <i>Concha</i>, whose -face glows with indignation and revenge<a name="FNanchor_12" id="FNanchor_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a>;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -whereas <i>Guido</i>’s Angel, after having overthrown -the fiend of God and man, hovers -over him unruffled and undismayed.</p> - -<p>Thus, to heighten the hero of <i>The Campaign</i>, -victorious Marlborough, the British -poet paints the avenging Angel hovering -over Britannia with the like serenity and -awful calmness.</p> - -<p>The royal gallery at Dresden contains -now, among its treasures, one of <i>Raphael</i>’s -best pictures, witness Vasari, &c. a Madonna -with the Infant; St. Sixtus and St. -Barbara kneeling, one on each side, and two -Angels in the fore-part.</p> - -<p>It was the chief altar-piece in the cloister -of St. Sixtus at Piacenza, which was crouded -by connoisseurs, who came to see this -Raphael, in the same manner as Thespis -was in the days of old, for the sake of the -beautiful Cupid of <i>Praxiteles</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> - -<p>Behold the Madonna! her face brightens -with innocence; a form above the female -size, and the calmness of her mien, make -her appear as already beatified: she has that -silent awfulness which the ancients spread -over their deities. How grand, how noble -is her Contour!</p> - -<p>The child in her arms is elevated above -vulgar children, by a face darting the beams -of divinity through every smiling feature of -harmless childhood.</p> - -<p>St. Barbara kneels, with adoring stillness, -at her side: but being far beneath the -majesty of the chief figure, the great artist -compensated her humbler graces with soft -enticing charms.</p> - -<p>The Saint opposite to her is venerable -with age. His features seem to bear witness -of his sacred youth.</p> - -<p>The veneration which St. Barbara declares -for the Madonna, expressed in the most -sensible and pathetic manner, by her fine -hands clasped on her breast, helps to support<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> -the motion of one of St. Sixtus’s hands, -by which he utters his extasy, better becoming -(as the artist judiciously thought, -and chose for variety’s sake) manly strength, -than female modesty.</p> - -<p>Time, ’tis true, has withered the primitive -splendour of this picture, and partly blown -off its lively colours; but still the soul, with -which the painter inspired his godlike work, -breathes life through all its parts.</p> - -<p>Let those that approach this, and the rest -of <i>Raphael</i>’s works, in hopes of finding -there the trifling Dutch and Flemish beauties, -the laboured nicety of <i>Netscher</i>, or -<i>Douw</i>, flesh <i>ivorified</i> by <i>Van der Werf</i>, or -even the licked manner of some of <i>Raphael</i>’s -living countrymen; let those, I say, -be told, that <i>Raphael</i> was not a great master -for them.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> - -<h3>V. <span class="smcap">Workmanship in Sculpture.</span></h3> - -<p class="dropcap">After these remarks on the Nature, -the Contour, the Drapery, the simplicity -and grandeur of Expression in the performances -of the Greek artists, we shall -proceed to some inquiries into their method -of working.</p> - -<p>Their models were generally made of -wax; instead of which the moderns used -clay, or such like unctuous stuff, as seeming -fitter for expressing flesh, than the more -gluey and tenacious wax.</p> - -<p>A method however not new, though more -frequent in our times: for we know even -the name of that ancient who first attempted -modelling in wet clay; ’twas <i>Dibutades</i> of -Sicyon; and <i>Arcesilaus</i>, the friend of <i>Lucullus</i>, -grew more famous by his models of -clay than his other performances. He made -for <i>Lucullus</i> a figure of clay representing -<i>Happiness</i>, and received 60,000 sesterces:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -and <i>Octavius</i>, a Roman Knight, paid him -a talent for the model only of a large dish, -in plaister, which he designed to have finished -in gold.</p> - -<p>Of all materials, clay might be allowed -to be the fittest for shaping figures, could it -preserve its moistness; but losing that by -time or fire, its solider parts, contracting by degrees, -lessen the bulk of the mass; and that -which is formed, being of different diameters, -grows sooner dry in some parts than in others, -and the dry ones being shrunk to a smaller -size, there will be no proportion kept in the -whole.</p> - -<p>From this inconvenience wax is always -free: it loses nothing of its bulk; and there -are also means to give it the smoothness -of flesh, which is refused to modelling; -viz. you make your model of clay, mould -it with plaister, and cast the wax over it.</p> - -<p>But for transferring their models to the -marble, the Greeks seem to have possessed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -some peculiar advantages, which are now lost: -for you discover, every where in their works, -the traces of a confident hand; and even in -those of inferior rank, it would be no easy -matter to prove a wrong cut. Surely hands -so steady, so secure, must of necessity have -been guided by rules more determinate and -less arbitrary than we can boast of.</p> - -<p>The usual method of our sculptors is, to -quarter the well-prepared model with horizontals -and perpendiculars, and, as is -common in copying a picture, to draw a relative -number of squares on the marble.</p> - -<p>Thus, regular gradations of a scale being -supposed, every small square of the model -has its corresponding one on the marble. -But the contents of the relative masses not -being determinable by a measured surface, -the artist, though he gives to his stone the -resemblance of the model, yet, as he only -depends on the precarious aid of his eye, -he shall never cease wavering, as to his doing -right or wrong, cutting too flat or too deep.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span></p> - -<p>Nor can he find lines to determine precisely -the outlines, or the Contour of the -inward parts, and the centre of his model, -in so fixed and unchangeable a manner, as -to enable him, exactly, to transfer the same -Contours upon his stone.</p> - -<p>To all this add, that, if his work happens -to be too voluminous for one single -hand, he must trust to those of his journeymen -and disciples, who, too often, are neither -skilful nor cautious enough to follow -their master’s design; and if once the smallest -trifle be cut wrong, for it is impossible to -fix, by this method, the limits of the cuts, -all is lost.</p> - -<p>It is to be remarked in general, that -every sculptor, who carries on his chisselings -their whole length, on first fashioning his -marble, and does not prepare them by gradual -cuts for the last final strokes; it is to -be remarked, I say, that he never can keep -his work free from faults.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> - -<p>Another chief defect in that method is -this: the artist cannot help cutting off, every -moment, the lines on his block; and though -he restore them, cannot possibly be sure of -avoiding mistakes.</p> - -<p>On account of this unavoidable uncertainty, -the artists found themselves obliged -to contrive another method, and that which -the French academy at Rome first made use -of for copying antiques, was applied by -many even to modelled performances.</p> - -<p>Over the statue which you want to copy, -you fix a well-proportioned square, dividing -it into equally distant degrees, by -plummets: by these the outlines of the -figure are more distinctly marked than they -could possibly be by means of the former -method: they moreover afford the artist an -exact measure of the more prominent or -lower parts, by the degrees in which these -parts are near them, and in short, allow him -to go on with more confidence.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> - -<p>But the undulations of a curve being not -determinable by a single perpendicular, the -Contours of the figure are but indifferently -indicated to the artist; and among their -many declinations from a straight surface, -his tenour is every moment lost.</p> - -<p>The difficulty of discovering the real proportions -of the figures, may also be easily -imagined: they seek them by horizontals -placed across the plummets. But the rays -reflected from the figure through the squares, -will strike the eye in enlarged angles, and -consequently appear bigger, in proportion as -they are high or low to the point of view.</p> - -<p>Nevertheless, as the ancient monuments -must be most cautiously dealt with, plummets -are still of use in copying them, as no -surer or easier method has been discovered: -but for performances to be done from models -they are unfit for want of precision.</p> - -<p><i>Michael Angelo</i> went alone a way unknown -before him, and (strange to tell!)<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -untrod since the time of that genius of modern -sculpture.</p> - -<p>This Phidias of latter times, and next to -the Greeks, hath, in all probability, hit the -very mark of his great masters. We know -at least no method so eminently proper for -expressing on the block every, even the minutest, -beauty of the model.</p> - -<p><i>Vasari</i><a name="FNanchor_13" id="FNanchor_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a> seems to give but a defective -description of this method, viz. <i>Michael<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -Angelo</i> took a vessel filled with water, in -which he placed his model of wax, or some -such indissoluble matter: then, by degrees, -raised it to the surface of the water. In this -manner the prominent parts were unwet, -the lower covered, ’till the whole at length -appeared. Thus says <i>Vasari</i>, he cut his -marble, proceeding from the more prominent -parts to the lower ones.</p> - -<p><i>Vasari</i>, it seems, either mistook something -in the management of his friend, or by the -negligence of his account gives us room to -imagine it somewhat different from what he -relates.</p> - -<p>The form of the vessel is not determined; -to raise the figure from below would prove -too troublesome, and presupposes much more -than this historian had a mind to inform us -of.</p> - -<p><i>Michael Angelo</i>, no doubt, thoroughly examined -his invention, its conveniencies and -inconveniencies, and in all probability observed -the following method.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> - -<p>He took a vessel proportioned to his model; -for instance, an oblong square: he -marked the surface of its sides with certain -dimensions, and these he transferred afterwards, -with regular gradations, on the marble. -The inside of the vessel he marked -to the bottom with degrees. Then he laid, -or, if of wax, fastened his model in it; he -drew, perhaps, a bar over the vessel suitable -to its dimensions, according to whose number -he drew, first, lines on his marble, and -immediately after, the figure; he poured water -on the model till it reached its outmost -points, and after having fixed upon a prominent -part, he drew off as much water as -hindered him from seeing it, and then went -to work with his chissel, the degrees shewing -him how to go on; if, at the same time, -some other part of the model appeared, it -was copied too, as far as seen.</p> - -<p>Water was again carried off, in order to -let the lower parts appear; by the degrees -he saw to what pitch it was reduced, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -by its smoothness he discovered the exact -surfaces of the lower parts; nor could he go -wrong, having the same number of degrees -to guide him, upon his marble.</p> - -<p>The water not only pointed him out the -heights or depths, but also the Contour of -his model; and the space left free on the -insides to the surface of the water, whose -largeness was determined by the degrees of -the two other sides, was the exact measure -of what might safely be cut down from the -block.</p> - -<p>His work had now got the first form, and -a correct one: the levelness of the water -had drawn a line, of which every prominence -of the mass was a point; according -to the diminution of the water the line sunk -in a horizontal direction, and was followed by -the artist ’till he discovered the declinations -of the prominences, and their mingling with -the lower parts. Proceeding thus with every -degree, as it appeared, he finished the Contour, -and took his model out of the water.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> - -<p>His figure wanted beauty: he again poured -water to a proper height over his model, -and then numbering the degrees to the line -described by the water, he descried the exact -height of the protuberant parts; on these -he levelled his rule, and took the measure -of the distance, from its verge to the bottom; -and then comparing all he had done -with his marble, and finding the same number -of degrees, he was geometrically sure of -success.</p> - -<p>Repeating his task, he attempted to express -the motion and re-action of nerves and -muscles, the soft undulations of the smaller -parts, and every imitable beauty of his model. -The water insinuating itself, even into -the most inaccessible parts, traced their Contour -with the correctest sharpness and precision.</p> - -<p>This method admits of every possible -posture. In profile especially, it discovers -every inadvertency; shews the Contour of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -the prominent and lower parts, and the -whole diameter.</p> - -<p>All this, and the hope of success, presupposes -a model formed by skilful hands, -in the true taste of antiquity.</p> - -<p>This is the way by which <i>Michael Angelo</i> -arrived at immortality. Fame and rewards -conspired to procure him what leisure -he wanted, for performances which required -so much care.</p> - -<p>But the artist of our days, however endowed -by nature and industry with talents -to raise himself, and even though he perceive -precision and truth in this method, is -forced to exert his abilities for getting bread -rather than honour: he of course rests in -his usual sphere, and continues to trust in an -eye directed by years and practice.</p> - -<p>Now this eye, by the observations of which -he is chiefly ruled, being at last, though by -a great deal of uncertain practice, become -almost decisive: how refined, how exact<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -might it not have been, if, from early youth, -acquainted with never-changing rules!</p> - -<p>And were young artists, at their first beginning -to shape the clay or form the wax, -so happy as to be instructed in this sure method -of <i>Michael Angelo</i>, which was the fruit -of long researches, they might with reason -hope to come as near the Greeks as he did.</p> - -<h3>VI. <span class="smcap">Painting.</span></h3> - -<p class="dropcap">Greek Painting perhaps would share -all the praises bestowed on their Sculpture, -had time and the barbarity of mankind -allowed us to be decisive on that -point.</p> - -<p>All the Greek painters are allowed is -Contour and Expression. Perspective, Composition, -and Colouring, are denied them; a -judgment founded on some bas-reliefs, and -the new-discovered ancient (for we dare not -say Greek) pictures, at and near Rome, in -the subterranean vaults of the palaces of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -Mæcenas, Titus, Trajan, and the Antonini; -of which but about thirty are preserved entire, -some being only in Mosaic.</p> - -<p><i>Turnbull</i>, to his treatise on ancient painting, -has subjoined a collection of the most -known ancient pictures, drawn by <i>Camillo -Paderni</i>, and engraved by <i>Mynde</i>; and these -alone give some value to the magnificent -and abused paper of his work. Two of -them are copied from originals in the cabinet -of the late Dr. <i>Mead</i>.</p> - -<p>That <i>Poussin</i> much studied the pretended -<i>Aldrovandine</i> Nuptials; that drawings are -found done by <i>Annibal Carracci</i>, from the -presumed <i>Marcius Coriolanus</i>; and that there -is a most striking resemblance between the -heads of <i>Guido</i>, and those on the Mosaic representing -<i>Jupiter</i> carrying off <i>Europa</i>, are -remarks long since made.</p> - -<p>Indeed, if ancient Painting were to be -judged by these, and such like remains of -<i>Fresco</i> pictures, Contour and Expression might -be wrested from it in the same manner.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -For the pictures, with figures as big as life, -pulled off with the walls of the Herculanean -theatre, afford but a very poor idea of -the Contour and Expression of the ancient -painters. Theseus, the conqueror of the -Minotaur, worshipped by the Athenian -youths; Flora with Hercules and a Faunus; -the pretended judgment of the Decemvir -Appius Claudius, are on the testimony of an -artist who saw them, of a Contour as mean -as faulty; and the heads want not only Expression, -but those in the Claudius even -Character.</p> - -<p>But even this is an evident instance of the -meanness of the artists: for the science of -beautiful Proportions, of Contour, and Expression, -could not be the exclusive privilege -of Greek sculptors alone.</p> - -<p>However, though I am for doing justice -to the ancients, I have no intention to lessen -the merit of the moderns.</p> - -<p>In Perspective there is no comparison between -them and the ancients, whom no<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> -earned defence can intitle to any superiority -in that science. The laws of Composition -and Ordonnance seem to have been but imperfectly -known by the ancients: the reliefs -of the times when the Greek arts were -flourishing at Rome, are instances of this. -The accounts of the ancient writers, and the -remains of Painting are likewise, in point of -Colouring, decisive in favour of the moderns.</p> - -<p>There are several other objects of Paintings -which, in modern times, have attained -greater perfection: such are landscapes and -cattle pieces. The ancients seem not to -have been acquainted with the handsomer -varieties of different animals in different -climes, if we may conclude from the horse -of M. Aurelius; the two horses in Monte -Cavallo; the pretended Lysippean horses -above the portal of St. Mark’s church at -Venice; the Farnesian bull, and other animals -of that groupe.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> - -<p>I observe, by the bye, that the ancients -were careless of giving to their horses the -diametrical motion of their legs; as we see -in the horses at Venice, and the ancient -coins: and in that they have been followed, -nay even defended, by some ignorant moderns.</p> - -<p>’Tis chiefly to oil-painting that our landscapes, -and especially those of the Dutch, -owe their beauties: by that their colours acquired -more strength and liveliness; and even -nature herself seems to have given them a -thicker, moister atmosphere, as an advantage -to this branch of the art.</p> - -<p>These, and some other advantages over -the ancients, deserve to be set forth with -more solid arguments than we have hitherto -had.</p> - -<h3>VII. <span class="smcap">Allegory.</span></h3> - -<p class="dropcap">There is one other important step -left towards the atchievement of the -art: but the artist, who, boldly forsaking<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -the common path, dares to attempt it, finds -himself at once on the brink of a precipice, -and starts back dismayed.</p> - -<p>The stories of martyrs and saints, fables -and metamorphoses, are almost the only -objects of modern painters—repeated a thousand -times, and varied almost beyond the -limits of possibility, every tolerable judge -grows sick at them.</p> - -<p>The judicious artist falls asleep over a -Daphne and Apollo, a Proserpine carried -off by Pluto, an Europa, &c. he wishes for -occasions to shew himself a poet, to produce -significant images, to paint Allegory.</p> - -<p>Painting goes beyond the senses: <i>there</i> is -its most elevated pitch, to which the Greeks -strove to raise themselves, as their writings -evince. Parrhasius, like Aristides, a painter -of the soul, was able to express the character -even of a whole people: he painted -the Athenians as mild as cruel, as fickle as -steady, as brave as timid. Such a representation -owes its possibility only to the allegorical<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -method, whose images convey general -ideas.</p> - -<p>But here the artist is lost in a desart. -Tongues the most savage, which are entirely -destitute of abstracted ideas, containing no -word whose sense could express memory, -space, duration, &c. these tongues, I say, -are not more destitute of general signs, -than painting in our days. The painter -who thinks beyond his palette longs for -some learned apparatus, by whose stores he -might be enabled to invest abstracted ideas -with sensible and meaning images. Nothing -has yet been published of this kind, to -satisfy a rational being; the essays hitherto -made are not considerable, and far beneath -this great design. The artist himself knows -best in what degree he is satisfied with -Ripa’s Iconology, and the emblems of ancient -nations, by Van Hooghe.</p> - -<p>Hence the greatest artists have chosen but -vulgar objects. <i>Annibal Caracci</i>, instead of -representing in general symbols and sensible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -images the history of the Farnesian family, -as an allegorical poet, wasted all his skill in -fables known to the whole world.</p> - -<p>Go, visit the galleries of monarchs, and -the publick repositories of art, and see what -difference there is between the number of -allegorical, poetical, or even historical performances, -and that of fables, saints, or -madonnas.</p> - -<p>Among great artists, <i>Rubens</i> is the most -eminent, who first, like a sublime poet, -dared to attempt this untrodden path. His -most voluminous composition, the gallery of -Luxembourg, has been communicated to -the world by the hands of the best engravers.</p> - -<p>After him the sublimest performance undertaken -and finished, in that kind, is, no -doubt, the cupola of the imperial library at -Vienna, painted by <i>Daniel Gran</i>, and engraved -by <i>Sedelmayer</i>. The Apotheosis of -Hercules at Versailles, done by <i>Le Moine</i>, -and alluding to the Cardinal <i>Hercules de<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -Fleury</i>, though deemed in France the most -august of compositions, is, in comparison of -the learned and ingenious performance of -the German artist, but a very mean and short-sighted -Allegory, resembling a panegyric, the -most striking beauties of which are relative to -the almanack. The artist had it in his power -to indulge grandeur, and his flipping the -occasion is astonishing: but even allowing, -that the Apotheosis of a minister was all -that he ought to have decked the chief -cieling of a royal palace with, we nevertheless -see through his fig-leaf.</p> - -<p>The artist would require a work, containing -every image with which any abstracted idea -might be poetically inverted; a work collected -from all mythology, the best poets of all -ages, the mysterious philosophy of different -nations, the monuments of the ancients on -gems, coins, utensils, &c. This magazine -should be distributed into several classes, and, -with proper applications to peculiar possible -cases, adapted to the instruction of the artist.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> -This would, at the same time, open a vast -field for imitating the ancients, and participating -of their sublimer taste.</p> - -<p>The taste in our decorations, which, since -the complaints of <i>Vitruvius</i>, hath changed for -the worse, partly by the grotesques brought -in vogue by <i>Morto da Feltro</i>, partly by our -trifling house-painting, might also, from -more intimacy with the ancients, reap the -advantages of reality and common sense.</p> - -<p>The Caricatura-carvings, and favourite -shells, those chief supports of our ornaments, -are full as unnatural as the candle-sticks -of <i>Vitruvius</i>, with their little castles -and palaces: how easy would it be, by the -help of Allegory, to give some learned convenience -to the smallest ornament!</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Reddere personæ scit convenientia cuique.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Paintings of ceilings, doors, and chimney-pieces, -are commonly but the expletives of -these places, because they cannot be gilt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -all over. Not only they have not the least -relation to the rank and circumstances of the -proprietor, but often throw some ridicule or -reflection upon him.</p> - -<p>’Tis an abhorrence of barrenness that fills -walls and rooms; and pictures void of -thought must supply the vacuum.</p> - -<p>Hence the artist, abandoned to the dictates -of his own fancy, paints, for want of Allegory, -perhaps a satire on him to whom -he owes his industry; or, to shun this Charybdis, -finds himself reduced to paint figures -void of any meaning.</p> - -<p>Nay, he may often find it difficult to -meet even with those, ’till at last</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">——<i>velut ægri Somnia, vanæ Finguntur Species.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Thus Painting is degraded from its most -eminent prerogative, the representation of -invisible, past and future things.</p> - -<p>If pictures be sometimes met with, which -might be significant in some particular<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -place, they often lose that property by stupid -and wrong applications.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the master of some new building</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Dives agris, dives positis in fœnore nummis</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">may, without the least compunction for offending -the rules of perspective, place figures -of the smallest size above the vast doors of -his apartments and salloons. I speak here of -those ornaments which make part of the -furniture; not of figures which are often, -and for good reasons, set up promiscuously -in collections.</p> - -<p>The decorations of architecture are often -as ill-chosen. Arms and trophies deck a -hunting-house as nonsensically, as Ganymede -and the eagle, Jupiter and Leda, -figure it among the reliefs of the brazen -gates of St. Peter’s church at Rome.</p> - -<p>Arts have a double aim: to delight and -to instruct. Hence the greatest landscape-painters -think, they have fulfilled but half<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> -their task in drawing their pieces without -figures.</p> - -<p>Let the artist’s pencil, like the pen of -Aristotle, be impregnated with reason; that, -after having satiated the eye, he may nourish -the mind: and this he may obtain by -Allegory; investing, not hiding his ideas. -Then, whether he chuse some poetical -object himself, or follow the dictates of -others, he shall be inspired by his art, shall -be fired with the flame brought down from -heaven by Prometheus, shall entertain the -votary of art, and instruct the mere lover -of it.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span class="smaller">A</span><br /> -LETTER,<br /> -<span class="smaller">CONTAINING</span><br /> -OBJECTIONS<br /> -<span class="smaller">AGAINST<br /> -The foregoing <span class="smcap">Reflexions</span>.</span></h2> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">SIR,</p> - -<p class="dropcap">As you have written on the Greek arts -and artists, I wish you had made your -treatise as much the object of your caution -as the Greek artists made their works; -which, before dismissing them, they exhibited -to publick view, in order to be examined by -everybody, and especially by competent judges -of the art. The trial was held during the -grand, chiefly the Olympian, games; and all -Greece was interested on Ætion’s producing -his picture of the nuptials of Alexander and -Roxana. You, Sir, wanted a Proxenidas<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -to be judged by, as well as that artist; and -had it not been for your mysterious concealment, -I might have communicated your -treatise, before its publication, to some learned -men and connoisseurs of my acquaintance, -without mentioning the author’s name.</p> - -<p>One of them visited Italy twice, where -he devoted all his time to a most anxious -examination of painting, and particularly -several months to each eminent picture, at -the very place where it was painted; the -only method, you know, to form a connoisseur. -The judgment of a man able to -tell you which of Guido’s altar-pieces is -painted on taffeta, or linnen, what sort of -wood Raphael chose for his transfiguration, -&c. the judgment of such a man, I fancy, -must be allowed to be decisive.</p> - -<p>Another of my acquaintance has studied -antiquity: he knows it by the very smell;</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Callet & Artificem solo deprendere Odore.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Sectan. Sat.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">He can tell you the number of knots on -Hercules’s club; has reduced Nestor’s goblet -to the modern measure: nay, is suspected of -meditating solutions to all the questions proposed -by Tiberius to the grammarians.</p> - -<p>A third, for several years past, has neglected -every thing but hunting after ancient -coins. Many a new discovery we owe to -him; especially some concerning the history -of the ancient coiners; and, as I am told, he -is to rouse the attention of the world by a Prodromus -concerning the coiners of Cyzicum.</p> - -<p>What a number of reproaches might you -have escaped, had you submitted your Essay -to the judgment of these gentlemen! they were -pleased to acquaint me with their objections, -and I should be sorry, for your honour, to -see them published.</p> - -<p>Among other objections, the first is surprized -at your passing by the two Angels, in -your description of the Raphael in the royal -cabinet at Dresden; having been told, that a -Bolognese painter, in mentioning this piece,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -which he saw at St. Sixtus’s at Piacenza, -breaks into these terms of admiration: O! -what Angels of Paradise<a name="FNanchor_14" id="FNanchor_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a>! by which he -supposes those Angels to be the most beautiful -figures of the picture.</p> - -<p>The same person would reproach you for -having described that picture in the manner -of Raguenet<a name="FNanchor_15" id="FNanchor_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a>.</p> - -<p>The second concludes the beard of Laocoon -to be as worthy of your attention as -his contracted belly: for every admirer of -Greek works, says he, must pay the same -respect to the beard of Laocoon, which father -Labat paid to that of the Moses of Michael -Angelo.</p> - -<p>This learned Dominican,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Qui mores hominum multorum vidit & urbes</i>,</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">has, after so many centuries, drawn from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -this very statue an evident proof of the true -fashion in which Moses wore his own individual -beard, and whose imitation must, of -course, be the distinguishing mark of every -true Jew<a name="FNanchor_16" id="FNanchor_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a>.</p> - -<p>There is not the least spark of learning, -says he, in your remarks on the Peplon of -the three vestals: he might perhaps, on the -very inflection of the veil, have discovered -to you as many curiosities as Cuper himself -found on the edge of the veil of Tragedy -in the Apotheosis of Homer<a name="FNanchor_17" id="FNanchor_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a>.</p> - -<p>We also want proof of the vestals being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -really Greek performances: our reason fails -us too often in the most obvious things. If -unhappily the marble of these figures should -be proved to be no Lychnites, they are lost, -and your treatise too: had you but slightly -told us their marble was large-grained, that -would have been a sufficient proof of their -authenticity; for it would be somewhat difficult -to determine the bigness of the grains -with such exactness as to distinguish the -Greek marble from the Roman of Luna. -But the worst is, they are even denied the -title of vestals.</p> - -<p>The third mentioned some heads of Livia -and Agrippina, without that pretended profile -of yours. Here he thinks you had the -most lucky occasion to talk of that kind of -nose by the ancients called <i>Quadrata</i>, as an -ingredient of beauty. But you no doubt -know, that the noses of some of the most -famous Greek statues, viz. the Medicean -Venus, and the Picchinian Meleager, are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -much too thick for becoming the model of -beauty, in that kind, to our artists.</p> - -<p>I shall not, however, gall you with all -the doubts and objections raised against your -treatise, and repeated to nauseousness, upon -the arrival of an Academician, the Margites -of our days, who, being shewed your treatise, -gave it a slight glance, then laid it aside, -offended as it were at first sight. But it was -easy to perceive that he wanted his opinion -to be asked, which we accordingly all did. -“The author, said he very peremptorily, -seems not to have been at much pains with -this treatise: I cannot find above four or five -quotations, and those negligently inserted; -no chapter, no page, cited; he certainly collected -his remarks from books which he is -ashamed to produce.”</p> - -<p>Yet cannot I help introducing another -gentleman, sharp-sighted enough to pick -out something that had escaped all my attention; -viz. that the Greeks were the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -first inventors of Painting and Sculpture; an -assertion, as he was pleased to express himself, -entirely false, having been told it was -the Egyptians, or some people still more ancient, -and unknown to him.</p> - -<p>Even the most whimsical humour may be -turned to profit: nevertheless, I think it -manifest that you intended to talk only of -good Taste in those arts; and the first Elements -of an art have the same proportion to -good Taste in it, as the seed has to the -fruit. That the art was still in its infancy -among the Egyptians, when it had attained -the highest degree of perfection among the -Greeks, may be seen by examining one -single gem: you need only consider the head -of <i>Ptolomæus Philopator</i> by Aulus, and the -two figures adjoining to it done by an -Egyptian<a name="FNanchor_18" id="FNanchor_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a>, in order to be convinced of the -little merit this nation could pretend to in -point of art.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></p> - -<p>The form and taste of their Painting have -been ascertained by Middleton.<a name="FNanchor_19" id="FNanchor_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> The -pictures of persons as big as life, on two -mummies in the royal cabinet of antiquities -at Dresden, are evident instances of their incapacity. -But these relicks being curious, -in several other respects, I shall hereafter -subjoin a short account of them.</p> - -<p>I cannot, my friend, help allowing some -reason for several of these objections. Your -negligence in your quotations was, no doubt, -somewhat prejudicial to your authenticity: -the art of changing blue eyes to black ones, -certainly deserved an authority. You imitate -Democritus; who being asked, “What -is man?” every body knows what was his -reply. What reasonable creature will submit -to read all Greek scholiasts!</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Ibit eo, quo vis, qui Zonam perdidit</i>—</div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Considering, however, how easily the human<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -mind is biassed, either by friendship -or animosity, I took occasion from these objections -to examine your treatise with more -exactness; and shall now, by the most impartial -censure, strive to clear myself from -every imputation of prepossession in your -favour.</p> - -<p>I will pass by the first and second page, -though something might be said on your -comparison of the Diana with the Nausicaa, -and the application: nor would it have been -amiss, had you thrown some more light on the -remark concerning the misused pictures of -Corregio (very likely borrowed from Count -Tessin’s letters), by giving an account of the -other indignities which the pictures of the -best artists, at the same time, met with at -Stockholm.</p> - -<p>It is well known that, after the surrender -of Prague to Count Konigsmark, the 15th -of July 1648, the most precious pictures of -the Emperor Rodolph II. were carried off<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -to Sweden<a name="FNanchor_20" id="FNanchor_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a>. Among these were some pictures -of Corregio, which the Emperor had -been presented with by their first possessor, -Duke Frederick of Mantua; two of them being -the famous Leda, and a Cupid handling -his bow<a name="FNanchor_21" id="FNanchor_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a>. Christina, endowed at that time -rather with scholastic learning than taste, -treated these treasures as the Emperor Claudius -did an Alexander of Apelles; who ordered -the head to be cut off, and that of -Augustus to fill its place<a name="FNanchor_22" id="FNanchor_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a>. In the same -manner heads, hands, feet were here cut -off from the most beautiful pictures; a carpet -was plastered over with them, and the -mangled pieces fitted up with new heads, -&c. Those that fortunately escaped the -common havock, among which were the -pieces of Corregio, came afterwards, together -with several other pictures, bought by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -the Queen at Rome, into the possession of -the Duke of Orleans, who purchased 250 -of them, and among those eleven of Corregio, -for 9000 Roman crowns.</p> - -<p>But I am not contented with your charging -only the northern countries with barbarism, -on account of the little esteem they -paid to the arts. If good taste is to be judged -in this manner, I am afraid for our French -neighbours. For having taken Bonn, the -residence of the Elector of Cologne, after -the death of Max. Henry, they ordered the -largest pictures to be cut out of their frames, -without distinction, in order to serve for coverings -to the waggons, in which the most -valuable furniture of the electoral castle was -carried off for France. But, Sir, do not -presume on my continuing with mere historical -remarks: I shall proceed with my objections; -after making the two following general -observations.</p> - -<p>I. You have written in a style too concise -for being distinct. Were you afraid of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -being condemned to the penalty of a -Spartan, who could not restrain himself to -only three words, perhaps that of reading -Picciardin’s Pisan War? Distinctness is required -where universal instruction is the end. -Meats are to suit the taste of the guests, -rather than that of the cooks,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent3">——<i>Cœnæ fercula nostræ</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Malim convivis quam placuisse coquis.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>II. There appears, in almost every line of -yours, the most passionate attachment to -antiquity; which perhaps I shall convince -you of, by the following remarks.</p> - -<p>The first particular objection I have to -make is against your third page. Remember, -however, that my passing by two -pages is very generous dealing:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent5"><i>non temere a me</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Quivis ferret idem:</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">but let us now begin a formal trial.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span></p> - -<p>The author talks of certain negligences in -the Greek works, which ought to be considered -suitably to Lucian’s precepts concerning -the Zeus of Phidias: “Zeus himself, -not his footstool;”<a name="FNanchor_23" id="FNanchor_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> though perhaps he could -not be charged with any fault in the foot-stool, -but with a very grievous one in the statue.</p> - -<p>Is it no fault that Phidias made his Zeus -of so enormous a bulk, as almost to reach -the cieling of the temple, which must infallibly -have been thrown down, had the -god taken it in his head to rise?<a name="FNanchor_24" id="FNanchor_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> To have -left the temple without any cieling at all, -like that of the Olympian Jupiter at Athens, -had been an instance of more judgment<a name="FNanchor_25" id="FNanchor_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a>.</p> - -<p>’Tis but justice to claim an explication of -what the author means by “negligences”. -He perhaps might be pleased to get a passport, -even for the faults of the ancients, -by sheltering them under the authority of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> -such titles; nay, to change them into beauties, -as Alcæus did the spot on the finger of -his beloved boy. We too often view the -blemishes of the ancients, as a parent does -those of his children:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent9"><i>Strabonem</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Appellat pætum pater, & pullum, male parvus</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Si cui filius est.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">If these negligences were like those wished -for in the Jalysus of Protogenes, where the -chief figure was out-shone by a partridge, -they might be considered as the agreeable negligée -of a fine lady; but this is the question. -Besides, had the author consulted his interest, -he never would have ventured citing -the Diomedes of Dioscorides: but being too -well acquainted with that gem, one of the -most valued, most finished monuments of -Greek art; and being apprehensive of the -prejudice that might arise against the meaner -productions of the ancients, on discovering -many faults in one so eminent as Diomedes;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> -he endeavoured to keep matters from being -too nearly examined, and to soften every -fault into negligence.</p> - -<p>How! if by argument I shall attempt to -shew that Dioscorides understood neither -perspective, nor the most trivial rules of the -motion of a human body; nay, that he offended -even against possibility? I’ll venture -to do it, though</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent5"><i>incedo per ignes</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Suppositos cineri doloso.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">And perhaps I am not the first discoverer of -his faults: yet I do not remember to have -seen any thing relative to them.</p> - -<p>The Diomedes of Dioscorides is either a -sitting, or a rising figure; for the attitude is -ambiguous. It is plain he is not sitting; -and rising is inconsistent with his action.</p> - -<p>Our body endeavouring to raise itself from -a seat, moves always mechanically towards -its sought-for centre of gravity, drawing back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -the legs, which were advanced in sitting<a name="FNanchor_26" id="FNanchor_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a>; -instead of which the figure stretches out his -right leg. Every erection begins with elevated -heels, and in that moment all the -weight of the body is supported only by the -toes, which was observed by Felix<a name="FNanchor_27" id="FNanchor_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a>, in his -Diomedes: but here all rests on the sole.</p> - -<p>Nor can Diomedes, (if we suppose him -to be a sitting figure, as he touches with his -left leg the bottom of his thigh) find, in -raising himself, the centre of his gravity, -only by a retraction of his legs, and of -course cannot rise in that posture. His left -hand resting upon the bended leg, holds the -palladion, whilst his right touches negligently -the pedestal with the point of a short -sword; consequently he cannot rise, neither -moving his legs in the natural and easy -manner required in any erection, nor making<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> -use of his arms to deliver himself from that -uneasy situation.</p> - -<p>There is at the same time a fault committed -against the rules of perspective.</p> - -<p>The foot of the left bended leg, touching -the cornice of the pedestal, shews it -over-reaching that part of the floor, on which -the pedestal and the right foot are situated, -consequently the line described by the hinder-foot -is the fore on the gem, and <i>vice versa</i>.</p> - -<p>But allowing even a possibility to that -situation, it is contrary to the Greek character, -which is always distinguished by the -natural and easy. Attributes neither to be -met with in the contortions of Diomedes, -nor in an attitude, the impossibility of which -every one must be sensible of, in endeavouring -to put himself in it, without the help -of former sitting.</p> - -<p>Felix, supposed to have lived after Dioscorides, -though preserving the same attitude, -has endeavoured to make its violence more -natural, by opposing to him the figure of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -Ulysses, who, as we are told, in order to -bereave him of the honour of having seized -the Palladion, offered to rob him of it, but -being discovered, was repulsed by Diomedes; -which being his supposed action on the gem, -allows violence of attitude<a name="FNanchor_28" id="FNanchor_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a>.</p> - -<p>Diomedes cannot be a sitting figure, for -the Contour of his buttock and thigh is -free, and not in the least compressed: the -foot of the bent leg is visible, and the leg -itself not bent enough.</p> - -<p>The Diomedes represented by Mariette -is absurd; the left leg resembling a clasped -pocket-knife, and the foot being drawn up -so high as to make it impossible in nature -that it should reach the pedestal<a name="FNanchor_29" id="FNanchor_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a>.</p> - -<p>Faults of this kind cannot be called negligences, -and would not be forgiven in any -modern artist.</p> - -<p>Dioscorides, ’tis true, in this renowned -performance did but copy Polycletus, whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -Doryphorus (as is commonly agreed) was -the best rule of human proportions<a name="FNanchor_30" id="FNanchor_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a>. But, -though a copyist, Dioscorides escaped a fault -which his master fell into. For the pedestal, -over which the Diomedes of Polycletus -leans, is contrary to the most common -rules of perspective; its cornices, which -should be parallel, forming two different -lines.</p> - -<p>I wonder at Perrault’s omitting to make -objections against the ancient gems.</p> - -<p>I mean not to do any thing derogatory to -the author, when I trace some of his particular -observations to their source.</p> - -<p>The food prescribed to the young wrestlers, -in the remoter times of Greece, is mentioned -by Pausanias<a name="FNanchor_31" id="FNanchor_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a>. But if the author alluded -to the passage which I have in view, why -does he talk in general of milk-food, when -Pausanias particularly mentions soft cheese?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -Dromeus of Stymphilos, we learn there, first -introduced flesh meat.</p> - -<p>My researches, concerning their mysterious -art of changing blue eyes to black ones, -have not succeeded to my wish. I find it -mentioned but once, and that only by the -bye by Dioscorides<a name="FNanchor_32" id="FNanchor_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a>. The author, by clearing -up this art, might perhaps have thrown -a greater lustre over his treatise, than by -producing his new method of statuary. He -had it in his power to fix the eyes of the -Newtons and Algarotti’s, on a problem worth -their attention, and to engage the fair sex, -by a discovery so advantageous to their charms, -especially in Germany, where, contrary to -Greece, large, fine, blue eyes are more frequently -met with than black ones.</p> - -<p>There was a time when the fashion required -to be green eyed:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Et si bel oeil vert & riant & clair:</i></div> -<div class="attr">Le Sire de Coucy, chans.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">But I do not know whether art had any -share in their colouring. And as to the small-pox, -Hippocrates might be quoted, if grammatical -disquisitions suited my purpose.</p> - -<p>However, I think, no effects of the small-pox -on a face can be so much the reverse of -beauty, as that defect which the Athenians were -reproachfully charged with, viz. a buttock as -pitiful as their face was perfect<a name="FNanchor_33" id="FNanchor_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a>. Indeed -Nature, in so scantily supplying those parts, -seemed to derogate as much from the Athenian -beauty, as, by her lavishness, from that -of the Indian Enotocets, whose ears, we -are told, were large enough to serve them -for pillows.</p> - -<p>As for opportunities to study the nudities, -our times, I think, afford as advantageous -ones as the Gymnasies of the ancients. -’Tis the fault of our artists to make no -use of that<a name="FNanchor_34" id="FNanchor_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a> proposed to the Parisian artists,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> -viz. to walk, during the summer season, along -the Seine, in order to have a full view of -the naked parts, from the sixth to the -fiftieth year.</p> - -<p>’Tis perhaps to Michael Angelo’s frequenting -such opportunities that we owe his celebrated -Carton of the Pisan war<a name="FNanchor_35" id="FNanchor_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a>, where -the soldiers bathing in a river, at the sound -of a trumpet leap out of the water, and -make haste to huddle on their cloaths.</p> - -<p>One of the most offensive passages of the -treatise is, no doubt, the unjust debasement -of the modern sculptors beneath the ancients. -These latter times are possessed of -several Glycons in muscular heroic figures, -and, in tender youthful female bodies, of -more than one Praxiteles. Michael Angelo, -Algardi, and Sluter, whose genius embellished -Berlin, produced muscular bodies,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">——<i>Invicti membra Glyconis,</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">in a style rivalling that of Glycon himself; -and in delicacy the Greeks are perhaps even -outdone by <i>Bernini</i>, <i>Fiammingo</i>, <i>Le Gros</i>, -<i>Rauchmüller</i>, <i>Donner</i>.</p> - -<p>The unskilfulness of the ancients, in -shaping children, is agreed upon by our artists, -who, I suppose, would for imitation -choose a Cupid of Fiammingo rather than -of Praxiteles himself. The story of M. Angelo’s -placing a Cupid of his own by the side -of an antique one, in order to inform our -times of the superiority of the ancient art, is -of no weight here: for no work of Michael -Angelo can bring us so near perfection as -Nature herself.</p> - -<p>I think it no hyperbole to advance, that -Fiammingo, like a new Prometheus, produced -creatures which art had never seen -before him. For, if from almost all -the children on ancient gems<a name="FNanchor_36" id="FNanchor_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -reliefs<a name="FNanchor_37" id="FNanchor_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a>, we may form a conclusion of the art -itself, it wanted the true expression of childhood, -as looser forms, more milkiness, and -unknit bones. Faults which, from the epoch -of Raphael, all children laboured under, till -the appearance of <i>Francis Quesnoy</i>, called -Fiammingo, whose children having the advantages -of suitable innocence and nature, -became models to the following artists, as in -youthful bodies Apollo and Antinous are: -an honour which <i>Algardi</i>, his contemporary, -may be allowed to share.</p> - -<p>Their models in clay are, by our artists, -esteemed superior to all the antique marble -children; and an artist of genius and talents -assured me, that during a stay of seven -years at Vienna, he saw not one copy taken -from an ancient Cupid in that academy.</p> - -<p>Neither do I know on what singular idea -of beauty, the ancient artists founded their -custom, of hiding the foreheads of their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -children and youths with hair. Thus a -Cupid was represented by Praxiteles<a name="FNanchor_38" id="FNanchor_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a>; thus -a Patroclus, in a picture mentioned by Philostratus<a name="FNanchor_39" id="FNanchor_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a>: -and there is no statue nor bust, -no gem nor coin of Antinous, in which we -do not find him thus dressed. Hence, perhaps, -that gloom, that melancholy, with -which all the heads of this favourite of Hadrian -are marked.</p> - -<p>Is not there in a free open brow more -nobleness and sublimity? and does not -<i>Bernini</i> seem to have been better acquainted -with beauty than the ancients, when he removed -the over-shadowing locks from the -forehead of young Lewis XIV. whose bust -he was then executing? “Your Majesty, -said Bernini, is King, and may with confidence -shew your brow to all the world.” -From that time King and court dressed their -hair à la Bernini<a name="FNanchor_40" id="FNanchor_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span></p> - -<p>His judgment of the bas-reliefs on the -monument of Pope Alexander VI<a name="FNanchor_41" id="FNanchor_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a>. leads us -to some remarks on those of antiquity. -“The skill in bas-relief, said he, consists -in giving the air of relief to the flat: the -figures of that monument seem what they -are indeed, not what they are not.”</p> - -<p>The chief end of bas-relief is to deck -those places that want historical or allegorical -ornaments, but which have neither cornices -sufficiently spacious, nor proportions -regular enough to allow groupes of entire -statues: and as the cornice itself is chiefly -intended to shelter the subordinate parts from -being directly or indirectly hurt, no bas-relief -must exceed the projection thereof; -which would not only make the cornice of -no use, but endanger the figures themselves.</p> - -<p>The figures of ancient bas-reliefs shoot -commonly so much forward as to become -almost round. But bas-relief being founded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -on fiction, can only counterfeit reality; its -perfection is well to imitate; and a natural -mass is against its nature: if flat, it ought to -appear projected, and <i>vice versa</i>. If this be -true, it must of course be allowed that -figures wholly round are inconsistent with it, -and are to be considered as solid marble -pillars built upon the theatre, whose aim is -mere illusion; for art, as is said of tragedy, -wins truth from fiction, and that by truth. -To art we often owe charms superior to -those of nature: a real garden and vegetating -trees, on the stage, do not affect us so agreeably, -as when well expressed by the imitating -art. A rose of <i>Van Huisum</i>, mallows of -<i>Veerendal</i>, bewitch us more than all the -darlings of the most skilful gardener: the -most enticing landscape, nay, even the -charms of the Thessalian Tempe, would not, -perhaps, affect us with that irresistible delight -which, flowing from <i>Dietrick</i>’s pencil, -enchants our senses and imagination.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span></p> - -<p>By such instances we may safely form a -judgment of the ancient bas-reliefs: the -royal cabinet at Dresden is possessed of two -eminent ones: a Bacchanal on a tomb, and -a sacrifice to Priapus on a large marble -vase.</p> - -<p>The bas-relief claims a particular kind -of sculpture; a method that few have succeeded -in, of which <i>Matielli</i> may be an instance. -The Emperor Charles VI. having -ordered some models to be prepared by the -most renowned artists, in bas-relief, intended -for the spiral columns at the church of -S. Charles Borromæo; <i>Matielli</i>, already famous, -was principally thought of; but however -refused the honour of so considerable a -work, on account of the enormous bulk of -his model, which requiring too great cavities, -would have diminished the mass of the -stone, and of course weakened the pillars. -<i>Mader</i> was the artist, whose models were -universally applauded, and who by his admirable -execution proved that he deserved<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -that preference. These bas-reliefs represent -the story of the patron of this church.</p> - -<p>It is in general to be observed, first, that -this kind of sculpture admits not indifferently -of every attitude and action; as for instance, -of too strong projections of the legs. Secondly, -That, besides disposing of the several -modelled figures in well-ranged groupes, the -diameter of every one ought to be applied -to the bas-relief itself, by a lessened scale: -as for instance, the diameter of a figure in -the model being one foot, the profile of the -same, according to its size, will be three -inches, or less: the rounder a figure of that -diameter, the greater the skill. Commonly -the relief wants perspective, and thence arise -most of its faults.</p> - -<p>Though I proposed to make only a few -remarks on the ancient bas-relief, I find -myself, like a certain ancient Rhetor, almost -under a necessity of being new-tuned. I -have strayed beyond my limits; though at -the same time I remembered that there is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -law among commentators, to content themselves -with bare remarks on the contents of a -treatise: and also sensible that I am writing -a letter, not a book, I consider that I may -draw some instructions for my own use,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">——<i>ut vineta egomet cædam mea,</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">from some peoples impetuosity against the -author; who, because they are hired for it, -seem to think that writing is confined to -them alone.</p> - -<p>The Romans, though they worshipped -the deity Terminus (the guardian God of limits -and borders in general; and, if it please -these gentlemen, of the limits in arts and -sciences too), allowed nevertheless an universal -unrestrained criticism: and the decisions -of some Greeks and Romans, in -matters of an art, which they did not -practise, seem nevertheless authentick to our -artists.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span></p> - -<p>Nor can I find, that the keeper of the -temple of peace at Rome, though possessed -of the register of the pictures there, pretended -to monopolize remarks and criticisms -upon them; Pliny having described most of -them.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Publica materies privati juris sit</i>—</div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">’Tis to be wished, that, roused by a Pamphilus -and an Apelles, artists would take up -the pen themselves, in order to discover the -mysteries of the art to those that know how -to use them,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Ma di costor’, che à lavorar s’accingono,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Quattro quinti, per Dio, non sanno leggere.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Salvator Rosa, Sat. III.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Two or three of these are to be commended; -the rest contented themselves with giving -some historical accounts of the fraternity. -But what could appear more auspicious -to the improvement of the art, even<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -by the remotest posterity, than the work -attempted by the united forces of the celebrated -Pietro da Cortona<a name="FNanchor_42" id="FNanchor_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> and Padre Ottonelli? -Nevertheless this same treatise, except -only a few historical remarks, and these too -to be met with in an hundred books, seems -good for nothing, but</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Ne scombris tunicæ desint, piperique cuculli.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Sectan. Sat.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>How trivial, how mean are the great -<i>Poussin</i>’s reflexions on painting, published -by Bellori, and annexed to his life of that -artist<a name="FNanchor_43" id="FNanchor_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a>?</p> - -<p>Another digression!—let me now again -resume the character of your Aristarchus.</p> - -<p>You are bold enough to attack the authority -of <i>Bernini</i>, and to challenge a -man, the bare mention of whose name -would do honour to any treatise. It was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span> -<i>Bernini</i>, you ought to recollect, Sir, who -at the same age in which Michael Angelo -performed his <i>Studiolo</i><a name="FNanchor_44" id="FNanchor_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a>, viz. in his eighteenth -year, produced his Daphne, as a convincing -instance of his intimacy with the ancients, -at an age in which perhaps the genius of -Raphael was yet labouring under darkness -and ignorance!</p> - -<p><i>Bernini</i> was one of those favourites of -nature, who produce at the same time vernal -blossoms and autumnal fruits; and I -think it by no means probable, that his studying -nature in riper years misled either him -or his disciples. The smoothness of his flesh -was the result of that study, and imparted -to the marble the highest possible degree of -life and beauty. Indeed ’tis nature which -endows art with life, and “vivifies forms,” -as Socrates says<a name="FNanchor_45" id="FNanchor_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a>, and Clito the sculptor allows. -The great Lysippus, when asked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -which of his ancestors he had chosen for -his master, replied, “None; but nature -alone.” It is not to be denied, that the too -close imitation of antiquity is very often apt -to lead us to a certain barrenness, unknown -to those who imitate nature: various herself, -nature teaches variety, and no votary -of her’s can be charged with a sameness: -whereas Guido, Le Brun, and some other -votaries of antiquity, repeated the same face -in many of their works. A certain ideal -beauty was become so familiar to them, as -to slide into their figures even against their -will.</p> - -<p>But as for such an imitation of nature, -as is quite regardless of antiquity, I am -entirely of the author’s opinion; though I -should have chosen other artists as instances -of following nature in painting.</p> - -<p><i>Jordans</i> certainly has not met with the regard -due to his merit; let me appeal to an -authority universally allowed. “There is,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -says Mr. d’Argenville, more expression and -truth in Jordans, than even in Rubens.</p> - -<p>“Truth is the basis and origin of perfection -and beauty; nothing, of any kind -whatever, can be beautiful or perfect, -without being truly what it ought to be, -without having all it ought to have.”</p> - -<p>The solidity of this judgment presupposed, -<i>Jordans</i>, according to Rochefoucault’s -maxims, ought rather to be ranked among -the greatest originals, than among the mimicks -of common nature, where <i>Rembrandt</i> -may fill up his place, as <i>Raoux</i> or <i>Vatteau</i> -that of <i>Stella</i>; though all these painters do -nothing but what Euripides did before them; -they draw man <i>ad vivum</i>. There are no -trifles, no meannesses in the art, and if we -recollect of what use the <i>Caricatura</i> was to -Bernini, we should be cautious how we -pass judgment even on the Dutch forms. -That great genius, they say<a name="FNanchor_46" id="FNanchor_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a>, owed to this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -monster of the art, a distinction for which -he was so eminent, the “Franchezza del -Tocco.” When I reflect on this, I am forced -to alter my former opinion of the <i>Caricatura</i>, -so far as to believe that no artist ever -acquired a perfection therein without gaining -a farther improvement in the art itself. “It -is, says the author, a peculiar distinction of -the ancients to have gone beyond nature:” -our artists do the same in their <i>Caricaturas</i>: -but of what avail to them are the voluminous -works they have published on that branch -of the art?</p> - -<p>The author lays it down, in the peremptory -style of a legislator, that “Precision -of Contour can only be learned from -the Greeks:” but our academies unanimously -agree, that the ancients deviate from -a strict Contour in the clavicles, arms, knees, -&c. over which, in spite of apophyses and -bones, they drew their skin as smooth as -over mere flesh; whereas our academies -teach to draw the bony and cartilaginous<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -parts, more angularly, but the fat and fleshy -ones more smooth, and carefully to avoid -falling into the ancient style. Pray, Sir, can -there be any error in the advices of academies -<i>in corpore</i>?</p> - -<p><i>Parrhasius</i> himself, the father of Contour, -was not, by Pliny’s account<a name="FNanchor_47" id="FNanchor_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a>, master enough -to hit the line by which completeness is distinguished -from superfluity: shunning corpulency -he fell into leanness: and <i>Zeuxis</i>’s -Contour was perhaps like that of Rubens, if -it be true that, to augment the majesty of -his figures, he drew with more completeness. -His female figures he drew like those -of Homer<a name="FNanchor_48" id="FNanchor_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a>, of robust limbs: and does not -even the tenderest of poets, Theocritus, draw -his Helen as fleshy and tall<a name="FNanchor_49" id="FNanchor_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> as the Venus -of Raphael in the assembly of the gods in -the little Farnese? Rubens then, for painting -like Homer and Theocritus, needs no apology.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span></p> - -<p>The character of Raphael, in the treatise, -is drawn with truth and exactness: but well -may we ask the author, as Antalcidas the -Spartan asked a sophist, ready to burst forth -in a panegyrick on Hercules, “Who blames -him?” The beauties however of the Raphael -at Dresden, especially the pretended -ones of the Jesus, are still warmly disputed.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>What you admire, we laugh at.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Why did not he rather display his patriotism -against those Italian connoisseurs, whose -squeamish stomachs rise against every Flemish -production?</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Turpis Romano Belgicus ore color.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Propert. L. II. Eleg. 8.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">And indeed are not colours so essential, that -without them no picture can aspire to universal -applause? Do not their bewitching -charms cover the most grievous faults? They -are the harmonious melody of painting;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -whatever is offensive vanishes by their splendor, -and souls animated with their beauties -are absorbed in beholding, as the readers of -Homer are by his flowing harmony, so as -to find no faults. These, joined to that -important science of Chiaro-Oscuro, are the -characteristicks of Flemish painting.</p> - -<p>Agreeably to affect our eye is the first -thing in a picture<a name="FNanchor_50" id="FNanchor_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a>, which to obtain, obvious -charms are wanted; not such as spring only -from reflection. Colouring moreover belongs -peculiarly to pictures; whereas design -ought to be in every draught, print, &c. and -indeed seems easier to be attained than colouring.</p> - -<p>The best colourists, according to a celebrated -writer<a name="FNanchor_51" id="FNanchor_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a>, have always come <i>after</i> the -inventors and contourists; we all know the -vain attempts of the famous Poussin. In -short, all those</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Qui rem Romanam Latiumque augescere student,</i></div> -<div class="attr">Ennius.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">must here acknowledge the superiority of the -Flemish art; the painter being really but -nature’s mimick, is the more perfect the -better he mimicks her.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Ast heic, quem nunc tu tam turpiter increpuisti,</i></div> -<div class="attr">Ennius.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">the delicate <i>Van der Werf</i>, whose performances, -worth their weight in gold, are the -ornaments of royal cabinets only, has made -nature inimitable to every Italian pencil; he -allures the connoisseur’s eye as well as that -of the clown; and, as an English poet says, -“that no pleasing poet ever wrote ill,” -surely the Flemish painter obtained that applause -which was denied to Poussin.</p> - -<p>I should be glad to see many pictures as -happily fancied, as well composed, as enticingly -painted as some of <i>Gherard Lairesse</i>: -let me appeal to every unprepossessed artist<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> -at Paris, acquainted with the <i>Stratonice</i>, -the most eminent, and no doubt the first -ranked picture in the cabinet of Mr. de la -Boixieres<a name="FNanchor_52" id="FNanchor_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a>.</p> - -<p>The subject is of no trivial choice: King -Seleucus I.<a name="FNanchor_53" id="FNanchor_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a> resigned his wife Stratonice, a -daughter of Demetrius Poliorcetes, to his son -Antiochus, whom a violent passion for his -mother-in-law had thrown into a dangerous -sickness: after many unsuccessful inquiries, -the physician Erasistratus discovered the true -cause, and found that the only means of -restoring the prince’s health, was, the condescension -of the father to the love of his -son: the King resigned his Queen, and at -the same time declared Antiochus King of -the East.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span></p> - -<p>Stratonice, the chief person, is the noblest -figure, a figure worthy Raphael himself. -The charming Queen,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Colle sob idæo vincere digna deas,</i></div> -<div class="attr">Ovid. Art.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">with slow and hesitating steps, approaches -the bed of her new lover; but still with the -countenance of a mother, or rather of a sacred -vestal. In the profile of her face you -may read shame mingled with gentle resignation -to the will of her lord. She has the -softness of her sex, the majesty of a queen, -an awful submission to the sacred ceremony, -and all the sageness required in so extraordinary -and delicate a situation. Dressed -with a masterly skill, the artist, from the -colour of her cloaths, may learn how to -paint the purple of the ancients; for it is -not generally known that it resembled fadeing, -ruddy, vine-leaves<a name="FNanchor_54" id="FNanchor_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span></p> - -<p>Behind her stands the King, dressed in a -darker habit, in order to give the more relief -to the Queen, to spare confusion to her, -shame to the Prince, and not to interrupt -his joy. Expectation and acquiescence are -blended in his face, which is taken from the -profile of his best coins.</p> - -<p>The Prince, a beautiful half-naked youth, -sitting in his bed, has some resemblance of -his father; his pale face bears witness of the -fever, that lately had raged in his veins; but -fancy sees returning health, not shame, in -that soft-rising ruddiness diffused over his -cheeks.</p> - -<p>The physician and priest Erasistratus, venerable -like the Calchas of Homer, standing -before the bed, is the only speaker, authorised -by the King, whose will he declares -to the Prince; and whilst, with one hand, -he leads the Queen to the embraces of her -lover, with the other he presents him with -the diadem. Joy and astonishment flash<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -from the Prince’s face on the approach of -his Queen</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">——<i>darting all the soul in missive love</i>:</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">though nobly restrained by reverence, he -bends his head, and seems to comprise his -happiness in a single thought.</p> - -<p>The characters indeed are distributed with -so much ingenuity, that they seem to give a -lustre and energy to each other.</p> - -<p>The largest share of light is displayed -on Stratonice: she claims our first regard. -The priest, though in a weaker light, is -raised by his gesture: he is the speaker, and -around him reign solemn stillness and attention.</p> - -<p>The Prince, the second person, has a -larger share of light; and though the artist, -led by his skill, chose rather to make a -beautiful Queen the chief support of his -groupe than a sick Prince, He nevertheless -maintains his due rank, and becomes the -most eminent person of the whole, by his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -expression. His face contains the greatest -secrets of the art,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Quales nequeo monstrare & sentio tantum.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Juvenal. Sat. VII.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Even those motions of the soul, which -otherwise seem opposite to each other, -mingle here with peaceful harmony; a -timid red spreading over his sickly face, announces -health, like the faint glimmerings -of the morn, which, though veiled by night, -announce the day, and even a bright one.</p> - -<p>The genius and taste of the artist shines -forth in every part of his work: even the -vases are copied from the best antique ones; -the table before the bed, is, like Homer’s, of -ivory.</p> - -<p>The distances behind the figures represent -a magnificent Greek building, whose -decorations seem allegorical. The roof of -a portal is supported by Cariatides embracing -each other, as images of the tender friendship<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -between father and son, and alluding, -at the same time, to the nuptial ceremony.</p> - -<p>Though faithful to history, the painter was -nevertheless a poet: in order to represent -some circumstances, he filled even the furniture -with sentiments. The Sphinxes by -the Prince’s bed allude to his problematic -sickness, the enquiries of Erasistratus, and -his sagacity in discovering its true cause.</p> - -<p>I have been told that some young Italian -artists, when considering this picture, and -perceiving the Prince’s arm perhaps a trifle -too big, went off without enquiring into the -subject itself. Should even Minerva herself, -as she once did to Diomedes, attempt to deliver -some people from the mist they labour -under, by heaven! the attempt were vain!</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent6">——<i>pauci dignoscere possunt</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Vera bona, atque illis multum diversa, remota</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Erroris nebula.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Juv. X.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span></p> - -<p>I have run into this long digression, in -order to throw some light on one of the first -productions of the art, which is nevertheless -but little known.</p> - -<p>The idea of noble simplicity and sedate -grandeur in Raphael’s figures, might rather, -as two eminent authors express it<a name="FNanchor_55" id="FNanchor_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a>, be called -“still life.” It is indeed the standard of the -Greek art: however, indiscreetly commended -to young artists, it might beget as dangerous -consequences, as precepts of energetick conciseness -in the style; the direct method to -make it barren and unpleasing.</p> - -<p>“In youths, says Cicero<a name="FNanchor_56" id="FNanchor_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a>, there must -be some superfluity, something to be taken -off: prematurity spoils the juices, and it -is easier to lop the young rank branches of -a vine, than to restore its vigour to a -worn out trunk.” Not to mention, that -figures wanting gesture would, by the bulk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -of mankind, be received as a speech before -the Areopagites, where, by a severe law, the -speaker was forbid to raise any passions, -though ever so gentle<a name="FNanchor_57" id="FNanchor_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a>: nay, pictures of -this kind would be so many portraits of -young Spartans, who, with hands hid under -their coats, and down-cast eyes, stalk -forth in silent solemnity<a name="FNanchor_58" id="FNanchor_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a>.</p> - -<p>Neither am I quite of the author’s opinion -with regard to allegory; the applying -of which would too frequently do in painting, -what was done in geometry by introducing -algebra: the one would soon be as -difficult as the other, and painting would -degenerate into Hieroglyphicks.</p> - -<p>The author attempts, in vain, to persuade -us, that the majority of the Greeks thought -as the Egyptians. There was no more learning -in the painting of the platfond of the -temple of Juno at Samos, than in that of -the Farnese gallery. It represented the love-intrigues<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -of Jupiter and Juno<a name="FNanchor_59" id="FNanchor_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a>: and, in -the front of a temple of Ceres at Eleusis, -there was nothing but representations of a -ceremony at the rites of that goddess<a name="FNanchor_60" id="FNanchor_60"></a><a href="#Footnote_60" class="fnanchor">[60]</a>.</p> - -<p>How to represent abstract ideas I do not -yet distinctly conceive. There may be the -same difficulties which attend the endeavours -of representing to the senses a mathematical -point—perhaps nothing less than impossibility; -and Theodoretus<a name="FNanchor_61" id="FNanchor_61"></a><a href="#Footnote_61" class="fnanchor">[61]</a> has some reason in -confining painting to the senses. For those -Hieroglyphicks which hint at abstract ideas, -in such a manner as to express, for instance<a name="FNanchor_62" id="FNanchor_62"></a><a href="#Footnote_62" class="fnanchor">[62]</a>, -<i>youth</i> by the number XVI; <i>impossibility</i> by -two feet standing on water: those, I say, -are monograms, not images: to indulge -them in painting is fostering chimæras, is<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -adding to Chinese pictures Chinese explications.</p> - -<p>An adversary of allegory believes that Parrhasius, -without any help from it, could represent -the contradictions in the character of -the Athenians; that he did it perhaps in several -pictures. Supposing which</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Et sapit, & mecum facit, & Jove judicat æquo.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">The sentence of death pronounced against the -leaders of the Athenian navy, after their -victory over the Spartans near the Arginuses, -afforded the artist a very sensible and rich -image, to represent the Athenians, at the -same time, merciful and cruel.</p> - -<p>The famous Theramenes, one of the -leaders, accused his fellow-chieftains of having -neglected to gather and bury the bodies -of their slain countrymen: a charge sufficient -to rouse the rage of the mob against the -victors; only six of whom had returned to -Athens, the rest having declined the storm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> - -<p>Theramenes harangued the people in the -most pathetick manner; intermixing his -speech with frequent pauses, in order to -give vent to the loud plaints of those who, -in the battle, had lost their parents or relations. -He, at the same time, produced a -man, who protested he had heard the last -words of the drowned, imprecating the publick -revenge on their leaders. In vain did -Socrates, then a member of the council, -with a few others, oppose the accusation: -the brave chieftains, instead of the honours -they hoped for, were condemned to die. -One of them was the only son of <i>Pericles</i> -and <i>Aspasia</i>.</p> - -<p>Was it not in the power of Parrhasius, -who was then alive, to enlarge the meaning -of his picture beyond the extent of -bare history, only by drawing the true characters -of the authors of this scene, without -the least help from allegory? It would have -been in his power, had he lived in our days.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span></p> - -<p>Your pretensions concerning allegory seem -indeed as reasonable an imposition upon the -painter, as that of Columella upon his farmer; -who wished to find him a philosopher -like Democritus, Pythagoras, or Eudoxus<a name="FNanchor_63" id="FNanchor_63"></a><a href="#Footnote_63" class="fnanchor">[63]</a>.</p> - -<p>No better success, in my opinion, is to -be expected from applying allegory to decorations: -the author would, at least, meet -with as many difficulties as Virgil, when -hammering on the names of a Vibius Caudex, -Tanaquil Lucumo, or Decius Mus; to -fit them for his Hexameter.</p> - -<p>Custom has given its sanction to the use -of shells in decorations: and is not there as -much nature in them as in the Corinthian -capital? You know its origin: a basket set -upon the tomb of a young Corinthian girl, -filled with some of her play-things, and covered -with a large brick, being overgrown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -with the creeping branches of an acanthus, -which had taken root under it, was the -first occasion of forming that capital. <i>Callimachus</i><a name="FNanchor_64" id="FNanchor_64"></a><a href="#Footnote_64" class="fnanchor">[64]</a> -the sculptor, surprized at the elegant -simplicity of that composition, took -thence a hint for enriching architecture with -a new order.</p> - -<p>Thus this capital, destined to support all -the entablature of the column, is but a basket -of flowers; something so apparently inconsistent -with the ideas of architecture, that -there was no use made of it in the time of -Pericles: for Pocock<a name="FNanchor_65" id="FNanchor_65"></a><a href="#Footnote_65" class="fnanchor">[65]</a> thinks it strange that -the temple of Minerva at Athens had Doric, -instead of Corinthian pillars. But time soon -changed this seeming oddity into nature; -the basket lost, by custom, all its former -offensiveness, and</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Quod fuerat vitium desinit esse mora.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Ovid. Art.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">We acknowledge no Egyptian law to forbid -arbitrary ornaments; and so fond have -the artists of all ages been, both of the -growth and form of shells, as to change -even the chariot of Venus into an enormous -one. The ancile, that Palladium of the Romans, -was scooped into the form of a shell<a name="FNanchor_66" id="FNanchor_66"></a><a href="#Footnote_66" class="fnanchor">[66]</a>: -we find them on antique lamps<a name="FNanchor_67" id="FNanchor_67"></a><a href="#Footnote_67" class="fnanchor">[67]</a>. Nay, nature -herself seems to have produced their -immense variety, and marvellous sinuations, -for the benefit of the art.</p> - -<p>I have no mind to plead the bad cause -of our unskilful decorators: only let me -adduce the arguments used by a whole tribe, -(if the artists will forgive the term), in order -to prove the reasonableness of their art.</p> - -<p>The painters and sculptors of Paris, endeavouring -to deprive the decorators of the -title of artists, by alledging that they employed -neither their own intellectual faculties,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span> -nor those of the connoisseurs, upon -works not produced by nature, but rather -the offsprings of capricious art; the others -are said to have defended themselves in the -following manner: “We are the followers -of nature: like the bark of a tree, variously -carved, our decorations grow into -various forms: then art joins sportive nature, -and corrects her: we do what the -ancients did: consult their decorations.”</p> - -<p>Variety is the great and only rule to which -decorators submit. Perceiving that there is -no perfect resemblance between two things -in nature, they likewise forsake it in their -decorations; and careless of anxious twining, -leave it to the parts themselves to find their -like, as the atoms of Epicurus did. This -liberty we owe to the very nation, which, -after having nobly exceeded all the narrow -bounds of social formalities, bestows so much -pains upon communicating her improvements -to her neighbours. This style in decorations -got the epithet of <i>Barroque</i> taste,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -derived from a word signifying pearls and -teeth of unequal size<a name="FNanchor_68" id="FNanchor_68"></a><a href="#Footnote_68" class="fnanchor">[68]</a>.</p> - -<p>Shells have at least as good a claim for -being admitted among our decorations, as -the heads of sheep and oxen. You know -that the ancients placed those heads, stript of -the skin, on the frizes, especially of the -Doric order, between the Triglyphs, or on -the Metopes. We even meet with them on -the Corinthian frise of an old temple of Vesta, -at Tivoli<a name="FNanchor_69" id="FNanchor_69"></a><a href="#Footnote_69" class="fnanchor">[69]</a>; on tombs, as on one of the -Metellus-family near Rome, and another of -Munatius Plancus near Gaeta<a name="FNanchor_70" id="FNanchor_70"></a><a href="#Footnote_70" class="fnanchor">[70]</a>; on vases, -as on a pair in the royal cabinet at Dresden. -Some modern artists, finding them perhaps -unbecoming, changed them into thunderbolts, -like Vignola, or to roses, like Palladio -and Scamozzi<a name="FNanchor_71" id="FNanchor_71"></a><a href="#Footnote_71" class="fnanchor">[71]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span></p> - -<p>We conclude from all this, that learning -never had, nor indeed ought to have, any -share in an art so nearly related to what we -call <i>Lusus Naturæ</i>.</p> - -<p>Thus the ancients thought: for, pray, -what could be meant by a lizard on Mentor’s -cup?<a name="FNanchor_72" id="FNanchor_72"></a><a href="#Footnote_72" class="fnanchor">[72]</a> The</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Picti squallentia terga lacerti</i></div> -<div class="attr">Virg. G. IV.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">make, to be sure, a lovely image amidst the -flowers of a Rachel Ruysch, but a very -poor figure on a cup. Of what mysterious -meaning are birds picking grapes from vines, -on an urn?<a name="FNanchor_73" id="FNanchor_73"></a><a href="#Footnote_73" class="fnanchor">[73]</a> Images, perhaps, as void of -sense, and as arbitrary, as the fable of Ganymede -embroidered on the mantle, which -Æneas presented to Cloanthus, as a reward -of his victory in the naval games<a name="FNanchor_74" id="FNanchor_74"></a><a href="#Footnote_74" class="fnanchor">[74]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> - -<p>To conclude: is there any thing contradictory -between trophies and the hunting-house -of a Prince? Surely the author, -though so zealous a champion for the Greek -taste, cannot pretend to propose to us that -of King Philip and the Macedonians, who, -by the account of Pausanias<a name="FNanchor_75" id="FNanchor_75"></a><a href="#Footnote_75" class="fnanchor">[75]</a>, did not erect -their own trophies. Diana perhaps, amidst -her nymphs and hunting-equipages,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Qualis in Eurotæ ripis, aut per juga Cynthi,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Exercet Diana choros, quam mille secutæ,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Hinc atque hinc glomerantur, Oreades</i>—</div> -<div class="attr">Virg.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">might better suit the place; but we know -that the antient Romans hung up the arms -of their defeated enemies over the out-sides -of their doors, to be everlasting monitors of -bravery to every succeeding owner of the -house. Can trophies, having the same design,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> -ever be misplaced on any building of -the Great?</p> - -<p>I wish for a speedy answer to this letter. -You cannot be angry at seeing it published. -The tribe of authors now imitate the conduct -of the stage, where the lover, with his -soliloquy, entertains the pit. For the same -reason I shall receive, with all my heart, an -answer,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Quam legeret tereretque viritim publicus usus:</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">for</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Hanc veniam petimusque damusque vicissim.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Id.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span class="smaller">AN</span><br /> -ACCOUNT<br /> -<span class="smaller">OF A</span><br /> -MUMMY,<br /> -<span class="smaller">IN<br /> -The Royal Cabinet of Antiquities at <span class="smcap">Dresden</span>.</span></h2> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> - -<p class="dropcap">Among the Egyptian Mummies of -the royal cabinet, there are two preserved -perfectly entire, and not in the least -damaged, viz. the bodies of a man and -woman. The former, among all those -that were brought into, and publickly known -in Europe, is perhaps the only one of its -kind; on account of an inscription thereon, -which none of those who have written on -Mummies, except Della Valle alone, discovered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -on those bodies; and Kircher, among -all the drawings of Mummies communicated -to him, and published in his Oedipus, -has but one, (the same which Della Valle -had been possessed of,) with an inscription; -though his wooden cut<a name="FNanchor_76" id="FNanchor_76"></a><a href="#Footnote_76" class="fnanchor">[76]</a> is as faulty as all -the copies made afterwards<a name="FNanchor_77" id="FNanchor_77"></a><a href="#Footnote_77" class="fnanchor">[77]</a>. On that -Mummy there are these letters ΕΥ✠ΥΧΙ.</p> - -<p>This same inscription is on the royal -Mummy, of which I propose to give a brief -account, and in examining which I have -employed all my attention, that I might be -certain of its being genuine, and not drawn -by a modern hand from the inscription of -Della Valle: for ’tis well known, that those -bodies frequently pass through the hands of -Jews. But the letters are evidently drawn -with the same blackish colour with which -the face, hands, and feet are stained. The -first letter on our Mummy has the form of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -a large Greek ϵ, expressed by Della Valle -with an E angular, the other not being -usual in printing-presses.</p> - -<p>All the four Mummies of the royal cabinet -being bought at Rome, I proposed to -examine whether the Mummy with the inscription, -was that which Della Valle was -possessed of, and found that both the entire -royal Mummies were exact resemblances of -those described by him.</p> - -<p>Both, besides the linnen bandages, of a -Barracan-texture, rolled innumerable times -around the bodies, are wrapt up in several -(and, according to an observation made in -England<a name="FNanchor_78" id="FNanchor_78"></a><a href="#Footnote_78" class="fnanchor">[78]</a>, in three) kinds of coarser linnen; -which, by particular bandages of the girdle-kind, -is fastened in such a manner as to involve -even the smallest prominence of the -face. The first covering is a nice bit of -linnen, slightly tinged with a certain ground,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -much gilt, decked with various figures, and -with a painted one of the deceased.</p> - -<p>On the Mummy marked with the inscription, -this figure represents a man, who -died in the flower of life, with a thin curled -beard, not as represented by Kircher, like -an old man with a long pointed one. The -colour of the face and hands is brown: -the head encircled with gilt diadems, marked -with the sockets of jewels. From the gold -chain, painted around the neck, a sort of -medal hangs down, marked with various -characters, crescents, &c. and this over-reaches -the neck of a bird, that of a hawk perhaps, as -on the breasts of other Mummies<a name="FNanchor_79" id="FNanchor_79"></a><a href="#Footnote_79" class="fnanchor">[79]</a>. In the -right hand of the figure is a dish filled with -a red stuff, which being like that used by -the sacrificers<a name="FNanchor_80" id="FNanchor_80"></a><a href="#Footnote_80" class="fnanchor">[80]</a>, the deceased may be supposed -to have been a priest. The first and last -finger of the left hand have rings; and in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -the hand itself there is something round, of -a dark-brown colour; which, as Della Valle -pretends, is a well-known fruit. The feet -and legs are bare, with sandals; the strings -of which appearing between the great toes, -are, with a slip, fastened on the foot itself.</p> - -<p>The inscription, above-mentioned, is beneath -the breast.</p> - -<p>The second Mummy is the still more refined -figure of a young woman. Among -a great many medals, seemingly gilt, and -other figures, there are certain birds, and -quadrupeds something analogous to lions; -and towards the extremities of the body there -is an ox, perhaps an apis: Down from one -of the neck-chains hangs a gilt image of -the sun. She has ear-rings, and double -bracelets on both her arms: rings on each -hand, and on every finger of the left one, -but two on the first: whereas the right hand -has but two: with this hand she holds, -like Isis, a small gilt vessel, of the Greek -Spondeion-kind, which was a symbol of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -fertility of the Nile, when held by the goddess<a name="FNanchor_81" id="FNanchor_81"></a><a href="#Footnote_81" class="fnanchor">[81]</a>. -In the left hand there is a sort of -fruit, like an ear of corn, of a greenish cast. -The leaden seals, mentioned by Della Valle, -still remain on the first Mummy.</p> - -<p>Compare this description with that in his -travels<a name="FNanchor_82" id="FNanchor_82"></a><a href="#Footnote_82" class="fnanchor">[82]</a>, and you’ll find the Mummies of -the royal cabinet to be the same with those, -which were taken out of a deep well or -cave, covered with sand, and sold to this -celebrated traveller by an Egyptian; and I -believe they were purchased from his heirs at -Rome, though in the manuscript catalogue, -joined to that cabinet of antiquities, there is -not the least hint of any such purchase.</p> - -<p>I have no design to attempt an explication -of the ornaments and figures; some remarks -of that kind having already been -made by Della Valle. The following observations -concern only the inscription.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span></p> - -<p>The Egyptians, we know, employed a -double character in expressing themselves<a name="FNanchor_83" id="FNanchor_83"></a><a href="#Footnote_83" class="fnanchor">[83]</a>, -the <i>sacred</i> and the <i>vulgar</i>: the first was -what is called hieroglyphick; the other -contained the characters of their national -language, and this is commonly said to be -lost. All we know is confined to the twenty-five -letters of their alphabet.<a name="FNanchor_84" id="FNanchor_84"></a><a href="#Footnote_84" class="fnanchor">[84]</a> Della -Valle seems inclined to give an instance -of the contrary, in that inscription; which -Kircher, pushing his conjectures still farther, -endeavours to lay down as a foundation for -a new scheme of his; and to support it by -two other remains of the same kind. For, -he attempts to prove<a name="FNanchor_85" id="FNanchor_85"></a><a href="#Footnote_85" class="fnanchor">[85]</a>, that the dialect was -the only difference between the old Egyptian -and Greek tongue. According to his talent -of finding what no body looks for, he -makes free with some ancient historical accounts; -upon which he obtrudes a fictitious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -sense, in order to make them tally with -his scheme.</p> - -<p>Herodotus, according to him, tells us, that -King Psammetichus desired some Greeks, -who were perfect masters of their language, -to go over to Egypt, in order to instruct his -people in the purity of the tongue. Hence -he concludes, that there was but one language -in both countries. But that Greek -historian<a name="FNanchor_86" id="FNanchor_86"></a><a href="#Footnote_86" class="fnanchor">[86]</a> gives an account entirely opposite: -he tells us, that Psammetichus, having received -some services from the Carians and -Ionians, permitted them to settle in Egypt, -for the instruction of youth in the Greek -language, in order to bring up interpreters.</p> - -<p>There is no solidity in the rest of the Kircherian -arguments; such as those deduced -from the frequent voyages of the Greek -sages into Egypt, and the mutual commerce -between the two nations; which have not -even the strength of conjectures. For the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> -very skill of Democritus, in the sacred tongue -of the Babylonians and Egyptians<a name="FNanchor_87" id="FNanchor_87"></a><a href="#Footnote_87" class="fnanchor">[87]</a>, proves -only, that the travelling sages learned the languages -of the nations they conversed with.</p> - -<p>Nor does the testimony of Diodorus, -that Attica was originally an Egyptian colony<a name="FNanchor_88" id="FNanchor_88"></a><a href="#Footnote_88" class="fnanchor">[88]</a>, -seem to be here of any weight.</p> - -<p>The inscription of the Mummy might indeed -admit of Kircherian, or such like conjectures, -were the Mummy itself of the antiquity -pretended by Kircher. Cambyses, -the conqueror of Egypt, partly exiled, and -partly killed the priests; from which fact -Kircher confidently deduces as consequences, -the total abolition of the sacred rites, and -from that the ceasing to embalm bodies. -He again appeals to a passage of Herodotus<a name="FNanchor_89" id="FNanchor_89"></a><a href="#Footnote_89" class="fnanchor">[89]</a>, -which, upon his word alone, others have as -confidently quoted. Nay, a certain pedant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> -went so far as to pretend, that the Egyptian -custom of painting their dead, upon the -varnished linnen of the Mummies, ceased -with the epoch of Cyrus<a name="FNanchor_90" id="FNanchor_90"></a><a href="#Footnote_90" class="fnanchor">[90]</a>.</p> - -<p>But Herodotus says not a word, either of -the total abolition of the sacred rites, or of -the abolition of the custom of preserving -the dead from putrefaction, after the -time of Cambyses; nor does Diodorus Siculus -give any such hint: we may, on the -contrary, from his account of the funeral rites -of the Egyptians, rather conclude, that this -custom prevailed even in his time; that is -to say, when Egypt was changed into a Roman -province.</p> - -<p>Hence it cannot be demonstrated that -our Mummy was embalmed before the Persian -conquest.—But supposing it to be of -that date, is it a necessary consequence that -a body preserved in the Egyptian manner, -or even taken care of by their priests, should -be marked with Egyptian words?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span></p> - -<p>Perhaps it is the body of some naturalised -Ionian or Carian. We know that Pythagoras -entered into the Egyptian confession; -nay, even consented to be circumcised<a name="FNanchor_91" id="FNanchor_91"></a><a href="#Footnote_91" class="fnanchor">[91]</a>, in -order to shorten his way to the mysteries of -their priests. The Carians themselves observed -the sacred solemnities of Isis, and -even went so far in their superstition, as to -mangle their faces during the sacrifices offered -to that deity<a name="FNanchor_92" id="FNanchor_92"></a><a href="#Footnote_92" class="fnanchor">[92]</a>.</p> - -<p>Change the letter ι, in the inscription, into -the diphthong ει, and you have a Greek word: -such negligences are often to be met with in -Greek marbles<a name="FNanchor_93" id="FNanchor_93"></a><a href="#Footnote_93" class="fnanchor">[93]</a>, and still more in Greek manuscripts; -and with the same termination -it is to be found on a gem, and signifies, -“FAREWELL”<a name="FNanchor_94" id="FNanchor_94"></a><a href="#Footnote_94" class="fnanchor">[94]</a>, which was the usual -ejaculation addressed by the living to the deceased; -the same we meet with on ancient<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -epitaphs<a name="FNanchor_95" id="FNanchor_95"></a><a href="#Footnote_95" class="fnanchor">[95]</a>; public decrees<a name="FNanchor_96" id="FNanchor_96"></a><a href="#Footnote_96" class="fnanchor">[96]</a>; and of letters -it was the final conclusion<a name="FNanchor_97" id="FNanchor_97"></a><a href="#Footnote_97" class="fnanchor">[97]</a>.</p> - -<p>There is on an ancient epitaph the word -ΕΥΨΥΧΙ<a name="FNanchor_98" id="FNanchor_98"></a><a href="#Footnote_98" class="fnanchor">[98]</a>; the form of the Ψ on ancient -stones and manuscripts is exactly the same<a name="FNanchor_99" id="FNanchor_99"></a><a href="#Footnote_99" class="fnanchor">[99]</a> -with the third letter of ΕΥ✠ΥΧΙ, which -was perhaps confounded with it.</p> - -<p>But supposing the Mummy to be of later -times, the adoption of a Greek word becomes -yet easier. The round form of the ϵ -might be something suspicious, with regard to -its pretended antiquity; that form being never -found on the gems or coins before Augustus<a name="FNanchor_100" id="FNanchor_100"></a><a href="#Footnote_100" class="fnanchor">[100]</a>. -But this suspicion becomes of no -weight, by supposing that the Egyptians<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> -continued their embalming, even after the -time of that Emperor.</p> - -<p>However, the word cannot be an Egyptian -one, being inconsistent with the remains -of that ancient tongue in the modern Coptick, -as well as with their manner of writing; -which was from the right to the left, -as the Etrurians did<a name="FNanchor_101" id="FNanchor_101"></a><a href="#Footnote_101" class="fnanchor">[101]</a>; whereas the word in -question (like some Egyptian characters<a name="FNanchor_102" id="FNanchor_102"></a><a href="#Footnote_102" class="fnanchor">[102]</a>,) -is traced from the left to the right. As for -the inscription discovered by Maillet<a name="FNanchor_103" id="FNanchor_103"></a><a href="#Footnote_103" class="fnanchor">[103]</a>, no -interpreter has yet been found. The Grecians, -on the contrary, wrote in the occidental -manner, for six hundred years before -the christian æra, witness the Sigæan -inscription, which is said to be of that -date<a name="FNanchor_104" id="FNanchor_104"></a><a href="#Footnote_104" class="fnanchor">[104]</a>.</p> - -<p>What has been said relates also to an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> -inscription upon a piece of stone<a name="FNanchor_105" id="FNanchor_105"></a><a href="#Footnote_105" class="fnanchor">[105]</a>, with -Egyptian figures, communicated to Kircher -by Carolo Vintimiglia, a Palerman patrician. -The letters ΙΤΙΨΙΧΙ are two words, -and signify, “Let the soul come.” This stone -has met with the same fate as the gem engraved -with the head of Ptolomæus Philopator: -for here an Egyptian has joined two -random figures, and there the inscription -may be of a Greek hand. The litterati -know what little change it wants to be orthographical.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span class="smaller">AN</span><br /> -ANSWER<br /> -<span class="smaller">TO THE FOREGOING</span><br /> -LETTER,<br /> -<span class="smaller">AND<br /> -A further <span class="smcap">Explication</span> of the <span class="smcap">Subject</span>.</span></h2> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span></p> - -<p class="dropcap">I could not presume that so small a -treatise as mine would be thought of -consequence enough to be brought to a -publick trial. As it was written only for a -few <i>connoisseurs</i>, it seemed superfluous to give -it a learned air, by multiplying quotations. -Artists want but hints: their task, according -to an ancient Rhetor, is “to perform, -not to peruse;” consequently every author,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -who writes for them, ought to be brief. -Being besides convinced, that the beauties -of the art are founded rather on a quick -sense, and refined taste, than on profound -meditation, I cannot help thinking that the -principle of Neoptolemus<a name="FNanchor_106" id="FNanchor_106"></a><a href="#Footnote_106" class="fnanchor">[106]</a>, “to philosophize -only with the few,” ought to be the -chief consideration in every treatise of this -kind.</p> - -<p>Several passages of my Essay are susceptible -of explications, and, having been publickly -tried by an anonymous author, should -be explained and defended at the same time, -if my circumstances would permit me to enlarge<a name="FNanchor_107" id="FNanchor_107"></a><a href="#Footnote_107" class="fnanchor">[107]</a>. -As to his other remarks, the author, -I hope, will guess at my answer, -without my giving one explicitly.—Indeed -they do not require any.</p> - -<p>I am not in the least moved by the clamours -concerning those pieces of <i>Corregio</i>, -which, by undoubted accounts, were not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -only brought to <i>Sweden</i><a name="FNanchor_108" id="FNanchor_108"></a><a href="#Footnote_108" class="fnanchor">[108]</a>, but even hung up -in the stables at <i>Stockholm</i>. Reasoning is of -no use here: arguments of this kind admit -of no other evidence but that of <i>Æmilius -Scaurus</i> against <i>Valerius</i> of <i>Sucro</i>: “He denies; -I affirm: Romans! ’tis yours to -judge.”</p> - -<p>And why should there be any thing more -derogatory to the honour of the Swedes, in -my repeating Count <i>Tessin</i>’s relation, than in -his giving it? Perhaps, because the learned -author of the circumstantial life of Queen -<i>Christina</i> omits her indiscreet generosity towards -<i>Bourdon</i>, and that bad treatment -which the pictures of <i>Corregio</i> met with? -or was <i>Härleman</i><a name="FNanchor_109" id="FNanchor_109"></a><a href="#Footnote_109" class="fnanchor">[109]</a> himself charged with -indiscretion or malice, on his relating that, -at <i>Lincöping</i>, he found a college, and seven -professors, but not one physician or artificer?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was my design to explain myself more -particularly, concerning the negligences -of the Greeks, had I been allowed time. -The Greeks, as their criticism on the partridge -of Protogenes, and his blotting it<a name="FNanchor_110" id="FNanchor_110"></a><a href="#Footnote_110" class="fnanchor">[110]</a>, -evidently shews, were not ignorant in learned -negligence. But the Zeus of Phidias was -the standard of sublimity, the symbol of the -omnipresent Deity; like Homer’s Eris, he -stood upon the earth, and reached heaven; -he was, in the style of sacred poesy, “<i>What -encompasses him?</i> &c.” And the world has -been candid enough to excuse, nay, even to -justify on such reasons, the disproportions in -the Carton of Raphael, representing the -fishing of Peter<a name="FNanchor_111" id="FNanchor_111"></a><a href="#Footnote_111" class="fnanchor">[111]</a>. The criticism on the <i>Diomedes</i>, -though solid, is not against me: his -action, abstractedly considered, with his -noble and expressive contour, are standards -of the art; and that was all I advanced<a name="FNanchor_112" id="FNanchor_112"></a><a href="#Footnote_112" class="fnanchor">[112]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span></p> - -<p>The reflections on the Painting and Sculpture -of the Greeks may be reduced to four -heads, viz.</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>I. The perfect Nature of the Greeks;</p> - -<p>II. The Characteristicks of their works;</p> - -<p>III. The Imitation of these;</p> - -<p>IV. Their manner of Thinking upon the Art; and Allegory.</p> - -</div> - -<p>Probability was all I pretended to, with -regard to the first; which cannot be fully -demonstrated, notwithstanding all the assistance -of history. For, these advantages of -the Greeks were, perhaps, less founded on -their nature, and the influences of the climate, -than on their education.</p> - -<p>The happy situation of their country was, -however, the basis of all; and the want of -resemblance, which was observed between -the Athenians and their neighbours beyond<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -the mountains, was owing to the difference -of air and nourishment<a name="FNanchor_113" id="FNanchor_113"></a><a href="#Footnote_113" class="fnanchor">[113]</a>.</p> - -<p>The manners and persons of the new-settled -inhabitants, as well as the natives of -every country, have never failed of being -influenced by their different natures. The -ancient Gauls, and their successors the German -Franks, are but one nation: the blind -fury, by which the former were hurried -on in their first attacks, proved as unsuccessful -to them in the times of Cæsar<a name="FNanchor_114" id="FNanchor_114"></a><a href="#Footnote_114" class="fnanchor">[114]</a>, as it -did to the latter in our days. They possessed -certain other qualities, which are still -in vogue among the modern French; and -the Emperor Julian<a name="FNanchor_115" id="FNanchor_115"></a><a href="#Footnote_115" class="fnanchor">[115]</a> tells us, that in his -time there were more dancers than citizens -at Paris.</p> - -<p>Whereas the Spaniards, managing their -affairs cautiously, and with a certain frigidity, -kept the Romans longer than any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -other people from conquering the country<a name="FNanchor_116" id="FNanchor_116"></a><a href="#Footnote_116" class="fnanchor">[116]</a>.</p> - -<p>And is not this character of the old Iberians -re-assumed by the West-Goths, the -Mauritanians, and many other people, who -over-ran their country?<a name="FNanchor_117" id="FNanchor_117"></a><a href="#Footnote_117" class="fnanchor">[117]</a></p> - -<p>It is easy to be imagined what advantages -the Greeks, having been subject to the same -influences of climate and air, must have -reaped from the happy situation of their -country. The most temperate seasons reigned -through all the year, and the refreshing -sea-gales fanned the voluptuous islands of -the Ionick sea, and the shores of the continent. -Induced by these advantages, the -Peloponnesians built all their towns along -the coast; see Dicearchus, quoted by Cicero<a name="FNanchor_118" id="FNanchor_118"></a><a href="#Footnote_118" class="fnanchor">[118]</a>.</p> - -<p>Under a sky so temperate, nay balanced -between heat and cold, the inhabitants cannot<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> -fail of being influenced by both. Fruits -grow ripe and mellow, even such as are -wild improve their natures; animals thrive -well, and breed more abundantly. “Such -a sky, says Hippocrates<a name="FNanchor_119" id="FNanchor_119"></a><a href="#Footnote_119" class="fnanchor">[119]</a>, produces not only -the most beautiful of men, but harmony -between their inclinations and shape.” Of -which Georgia, that country of beauty, -where a pure and serene sky pours fertility, -is an instance<a name="FNanchor_120" id="FNanchor_120"></a><a href="#Footnote_120" class="fnanchor">[120]</a>. Among the elements, -beauty owes so much to water alone, that, -if we believe the Indians, it cannot thrive, in -a country that has it not in its purity<a name="FNanchor_121" id="FNanchor_121"></a><a href="#Footnote_121" class="fnanchor">[121]</a>. And -the Oracle itself attributes to the lymph -of Arethusa a power of forming beauty<a name="FNanchor_122" id="FNanchor_122"></a><a href="#Footnote_122" class="fnanchor">[122]</a>.</p> - -<p>The Greek tongue affords us also some -arguments in behalf of their frame. Nature<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> -moulds the organs of speech according -to the influences of the climate. There are -nations that rather whistle than speak, like -the Troglodytes<a name="FNanchor_123" id="FNanchor_123"></a><a href="#Footnote_123" class="fnanchor">[123]</a>; others that pronounce -without opening their lips<a name="FNanchor_124" id="FNanchor_124"></a><a href="#Footnote_124" class="fnanchor">[124]</a>; and the Phasians, -a Greek people, had, as has been -said of the English<a name="FNanchor_125" id="FNanchor_125"></a><a href="#Footnote_125" class="fnanchor">[125]</a>, a hoarse voice: an unkind -climate forms harsh sounds, and consequently -the organs of speech cannot be -very delicate.</p> - -<p>The superiority of the Greek tongue is -incontestible: I do not speak now of its richness, -but only of its harmony. For all the -northern tongues, being over-loaded with -consonants<a name="FNanchor_126" id="FNanchor_126"></a><a href="#Footnote_126" class="fnanchor">[126]</a>, are too often apt to offend with -an unpleasing austerity; whereas the Greek<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -tongue is continually changing the consonant -for the vowel, and two vowels, meeting -with but one consonant, generally grow -into a diphthong<a name="FNanchor_127" id="FNanchor_127"></a><a href="#Footnote_127" class="fnanchor">[127]</a>. The sweetness of the -tongue admits of no word ending with these -three harsh letters Θ, Φ, Χ, and for the -sake of Euphony, readily changes letters -for their kindred ones. Some seemingly -harsh words cannot be objected here; none -of us being acquainted with the true Greek -or Roman pronunciation. All these advantages -gave to the tongue a flowing softness, -brought variety into the sounds of its words, -and facilitated their inimitable composition. -And from these alone, not to mention the -measure which, even in common conversation, -every syllable enjoyed, a thing to be -despaired of in occidental tongues; from -these alone, I say, we may form the highest -idea of the organs by which that tongue -was pronounced, and may more than conjecture,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -that, by the language of the <i>Gods</i>, -Homer meant the Greek, by that of <i>Men</i>, -the Phrygian tongue.</p> - -<p>It was chiefly owing to that abundance of -vowels, that the Greek tongue was preferable -to all others, for expressing by the sound -and disposition of its words the forms and -substances of things. The discharge, the -rapidity, the diminution of strength in piercing, -the slowness in gliding, and the stopping -of an arrow, are better expressed by the sound -of these three verses of Homer, Iliad Δ.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">125. Λίγξε βιὸς, νευρὴ δε μέγ’ ἴαχεν, ἆλτο δ’ ὀϊστὸς<a name="FNanchor_128" id="FNanchor_128"></a><a href="#Footnote_128" class="fnanchor">[128]</a></div> -<div class="verse">135. Διὰ μέν ἂρ’ ζωστῆρος ἐλήλατο δαιδαλέοιο,</div> -<div class="verse">136. Καὶ διὰ θωρηκος πολυδαιδάλου ἠρήρειστο,</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">than even by the words themselves. You -see it discharged, flying through the air, and -piercing the belt of Menelaus.</p> - -<p>The description of the Myrmidons in battle-array, -Iliad Π. v. 215.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Ἀσπὶς ἄρ’ ἀσπίδ’ ἔρειδε, κόρυς κόρυν ἀνέρα δ’ ἀνήρ.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">is of the same kind, and has never been hit -by any imitation: what beauties in one -line!</p> - -<p>Plato’s periods were, from their harmony, -compared<a name="FNanchor_129" id="FNanchor_129"></a><a href="#Footnote_129" class="fnanchor">[129]</a> to a noiseless smooth-running -stream. But we should be mistaken in confining -the tongue to the softer harmonies -only: it became a roaring torrent, boisterous -as the winds by which Ulysses’ sails were -torn, split only in three or four places by -the words, but rent by the sound into a -thousand tatters<a name="FNanchor_130" id="FNanchor_130"></a><a href="#Footnote_130" class="fnanchor">[130]</a>. This was the “<i>vivida -expressio</i>,” the living sound; supremely beautiful, -when properly and sparingly used!</p> - -<p>How quick, how refined must the organs -have been, which were the depositaries of -such a tongue! The Roman itself could -not attain its excellence: nay, a Greek father, -of the second century of the christian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -æra<a name="FNanchor_131" id="FNanchor_131"></a><a href="#Footnote_131" class="fnanchor">[131]</a>, complains of the horrid sound of the -Roman laws.</p> - -<p>Nature keeps proportion; consequently -the frame of the Greeks was of a fine clay, -of nerves, and muscles most sensibly elastic, -and promoting the flexibility of the body: -hence that easiness, that pliant facility, accompanied -with mirth and vigour, which -animated all their actions. Imagine bodies -most nicely balanced between leanness and -corpulency: both extremes were ridiculed -by the Greeks, and their poets sneer at the -Philesiases<a name="FNanchor_132" id="FNanchor_132"></a><a href="#Footnote_132" class="fnanchor">[132]</a>, Philetases<a name="FNanchor_133" id="FNanchor_133"></a><a href="#Footnote_133" class="fnanchor">[133]</a>, and Agoracrituses<a name="FNanchor_134" id="FNanchor_134"></a><a href="#Footnote_134" class="fnanchor">[134]</a>.</p> - -<p>But though they were beautiful, and by -their law early initiated into pleasure, they -were not effeminate Sybarites. As an instance -of which we shall only repeat what -Pericles pleaded in favour of the Athenian -manners, against those of Sparta, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -were as different from those of the rest of -Greece, as their public oeconomy was: -“The Spartans, says Pericles, employ their -youth to get, by violent exercises, manly -strength: but we, though living indolently, -encounter every danger as well as -they; calmly, not anxiously, mindful of -its approaches, we meet it with voluntary -magnanimity, and without any compulsion -of the law. Not disconcerted by its -impending threats, we meet its most furious -attacks, with no less boldness than -they, whom perpetual practice has prepared -for its strokes. We are fond of -elegance, without loving finery; of genius, -without being emasculate. In short, -to be fit for every great enterprize, is the -characteristic of the Athenians<a name="FNanchor_135" id="FNanchor_135"></a><a href="#Footnote_135" class="fnanchor">[135]</a>.”</p> - -<p>I cannot, nor will I pretend to fix a rule -without allowing exceptions. There was -a Thersites in the army of the Greeks. But -it is worth observing, that the beauty of a -nation was always in proportion to their cultivation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> -of the arts. Thebes, wrapt up in -a misty sky, produced a sturdy uncouth -race<a name="FNanchor_136" id="FNanchor_136"></a><a href="#Footnote_136" class="fnanchor">[136]</a>,<a name="FNanchor_137" id="FNanchor_137"></a><a href="#Footnote_137" class="fnanchor">[137]</a>according to Hippocrates’s observation -on fenny, watry soils<a name="FNanchor_138" id="FNanchor_138"></a><a href="#Footnote_138" class="fnanchor">[138]</a>; and its sterility -in producing men of genius, Pindar only -excepted, is an old reproach. Sparta was -as defective in this respect as Thebes, having -only Alcman to boast of; but the reasons -were different: whereas Attica enjoyed -a pure and serene sky, which refined the -senses<a name="FNanchor_139" id="FNanchor_139"></a><a href="#Footnote_139" class="fnanchor">[139]</a>, and of course shaped their bodies in -proportion to that refinement; and Athens -was the seat of arts. The same remark -may be made with regard to Sicyon, Corinth, -Rhodes, Ephesus, &c. all which -having been schools of the arts, could not -want convenient models. The passage of -Aristophanes, insisted on in the letter<a name="FNanchor_140" id="FNanchor_140"></a><a href="#Footnote_140" class="fnanchor">[140]</a>, I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -take for a joke, as it really is—and thereby -hangs a tale: to have the parts, whereon</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Sedet æternumque sedebit</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Infelix Theseus,</i></div> -<div class="attr">Virg.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">moderately complete, were Attick beauties. -Theseus<a name="FNanchor_141" id="FNanchor_141"></a><a href="#Footnote_141" class="fnanchor">[141]</a>, made prisoner by the Thesprotians, -was delivered from his captivity by -Hercules, but not without some loss of the -parts in question; a loss bequeathed to all -his race. This was the true mark of the -Thesean pedigree; as a natural mark, representing -a spear<a name="FNanchor_142" id="FNanchor_142"></a><a href="#Footnote_142" class="fnanchor">[142]</a>, signified a Spartan extraction; -and we find the Greek artists imitating -in those places the sparing hand of nature.</p> - -<p>But this liberality of nature was confined -to Greece, in a narrower sense. Its colonies -underwent the same fate, which its eloquence -met with when going abroad. “As soon, -says Cicero<a name="FNanchor_143" id="FNanchor_143"></a><a href="#Footnote_143" class="fnanchor">[143]</a>, as eloquence set out from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -the Athenian port, she plumed herself -with the manners of all the islands in -her way, adopted the Asiatick luxury, -and forsaking her sound Attick expression, -lost her health.” The Ionians, -transplanted by Nileus from Greece into -Asia, after the return of the Heraclides, -grew still more voluptuous beneath that -glowing sky. Heaps of vowels brought -wantonness into every word; the neighbouring -islands partook of their climate and -manners, which a single Lesbian coin may -convince us of<a name="FNanchor_144" id="FNanchor_144"></a><a href="#Footnote_144" class="fnanchor">[144]</a>. No wonder then, if their -bodies degenerated as much from those of -their ancestors, as their manners.</p> - -<p>The remoter the colonies the greater the -difference. Those Greeks, who had chosen -their abode in Africa, about <i>Pithicussa</i>, fell -in with the natives in adoring apes; nay, -even gave the names of those animals to -their children<a name="FNanchor_145" id="FNanchor_145"></a><a href="#Footnote_145" class="fnanchor">[145]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span></p> - -<p>The modern Greeks, though composed -of various mingled metals, still betray the -chief mass. Barbarism has destroyed the -very elements of science, and ignorance over-clouds -the whole country; education, courage, -manners are sunk beneath an iron sway, and -even the shadow of liberty is lost. Time, in -its course, dissipates the remains of antiquity: -pillars of Apollo’s temple at Delos<a name="FNanchor_146" id="FNanchor_146"></a><a href="#Footnote_146" class="fnanchor">[146]</a>, are -now the ornaments of English gardens: the -nature of the country itself is changed. In -days of yore the plants of Crete<a name="FNanchor_147" id="FNanchor_147"></a><a href="#Footnote_147" class="fnanchor">[147]</a> were famous -over all the world; but now the -streams and rivers, where you would go in -quest of them, are mantled with wild luxuriant -weeds, and trivial vegetables<a name="FNanchor_148" id="FNanchor_148"></a><a href="#Footnote_148" class="fnanchor">[148]</a>.</p> - -<p>Unhappy country! How could it avoid -being changed into a wilderness, when such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -populous tracts of land as Samos, once -mighty enough to balance the Athenian -power at sea, are reduced to hideous desarts<a name="FNanchor_149" id="FNanchor_149"></a><a href="#Footnote_149" class="fnanchor">[149]</a>!</p> - -<p>Notwithstanding all these devastations, -the forlorn prospect of the soil, the free passage -of the winds, stopped by the inextricable -windings of entangled shores, and -the want of almost all other commodities; -yet have the modern Greeks preserved many -of the prerogatives of their ancestors. The -inhabitants of several islands, (the Greek race -being chiefly preserved in the islands), near -the Natolian shore, especially the females, -are, by the unanimous account of travellers, -the most beautiful of the human race<a name="FNanchor_150" id="FNanchor_150"></a><a href="#Footnote_150" class="fnanchor">[150]</a>.</p> - -<p>Attica still preserves its air of philanthropy<a name="FNanchor_151" id="FNanchor_151"></a><a href="#Footnote_151" class="fnanchor">[151]</a>: -all the shepherds and clowns welcomed the -two travellers, Spon and Wheeler; nay, prevented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> -them with their salutations<a name="FNanchor_152" id="FNanchor_152"></a><a href="#Footnote_152" class="fnanchor">[152]</a>: neither -have they lost the Attick salt, or the enterprising -spirit of the former inhabitants<a name="FNanchor_153" id="FNanchor_153"></a><a href="#Footnote_153" class="fnanchor">[153]</a>.</p> - -<p>Objections have been made against their -early exercises, as rather derogating from, -than adding to, the beauteous form of the -Greek youths.</p> - -<p>Indeed, the continual efforts of the nerves -and muscles seem rather to give an angular -gladiatorial turn, than the soft Contour -of beauty, to youthful bodies. But this may -partly be answered by the character of the -nation itself: their fancy, their actions, were -easy and natural; their affairs, as Pericles -says, were managed with a certain carelessness, -and some of Plato’s dialogues<a name="FNanchor_154" id="FNanchor_154"></a><a href="#Footnote_154" class="fnanchor">[154]</a> may -give us an idea of that mirth and chearfulness -which prevailed in all the Gymnastick -exercises of their youth. Hence his desire -of having these places, in his commonwealth,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -frequented by old folks, in order -to remind them of the joys of their youth<a name="FNanchor_155" id="FNanchor_155"></a><a href="#Footnote_155" class="fnanchor">[155]</a>.</p> - -<p>Their games commonly began at sun -rise<a name="FNanchor_156" id="FNanchor_156"></a><a href="#Footnote_156" class="fnanchor">[156]</a>; and Socrates frequented them at that -time. They chose the morning-hours, in order -to avoid being incommoded by the heat: -as soon as their garments were laid down, -the body was anointed with the elegant Attick -oil, partly to defend it from the bleak -morning-air; as it was usual to practice, -even during the severest cold<a name="FNanchor_157" id="FNanchor_157"></a><a href="#Footnote_157" class="fnanchor">[157]</a>; and partly -to prevent a too copious perspiration, -where it was intended only to carry off -superfluous humours<a name="FNanchor_158" id="FNanchor_158"></a><a href="#Footnote_158" class="fnanchor">[158]</a>. To this oil they -ascribed also a strengthening quality<a name="FNanchor_159" id="FNanchor_159"></a><a href="#Footnote_159" class="fnanchor">[159]</a>. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> -exercises being over, they went to bathe, -and there submitted to a fresh unction; and -a person leaving the bath in this state “appears, -says Homer, taller, stronger, and -similar to the immortal Gods<a name="FNanchor_160" id="FNanchor_160"></a><a href="#Footnote_160" class="fnanchor">[160]</a>.”</p> - -<p>We may form a very distinct idea of the -different kinds and degrees of wrestling -among the ancients, from a vase once in -the possession of Charl. Patin, and, as he -guesses, the urn of a gladiator<a name="FNanchor_161" id="FNanchor_161"></a><a href="#Footnote_161" class="fnanchor">[161]</a>.</p> - -<p>Had it been a prevailing custom among -the Greeks to walk, either barefooted, like -the heroes in their performances<a name="FNanchor_162" id="FNanchor_162"></a><a href="#Footnote_162" class="fnanchor">[162]</a>, or with -a single sole, as we commonly believe, their -feet must have been bruised. But there are -many instances of their extreme nicety in -this respect; for, they had names for above -ten different sorts of shoes<a name="FNanchor_163" id="FNanchor_163"></a><a href="#Footnote_163" class="fnanchor">[163]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span></p> - -<p>The coverings of the thighs were thrown -off at the publick exercises, even before the -flourishing of the art<a name="FNanchor_164" id="FNanchor_164"></a><a href="#Footnote_164" class="fnanchor">[164]</a>; which was a great -advantage to the artists. As for the nourishment -of the wrestlers in remoter times, -I found it more proper to mention milk in -general, than soft cheese.</p> - -<p>If I remember right, you think it strange, -and even undemonstrable, that the primitive -church should have dipped their proselytes, -promiscuously: consult the note<a name="FNanchor_165" id="FNanchor_165"></a><a href="#Footnote_165" class="fnanchor">[165]</a>.</p> - -<p>As I am now entering upon the discussion -of my second point, I could wish that -these probabilities of a more perfect nature, -among the Greeks, might be allowed to -have some conclusive weight; and then I -should have but a few words to add.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span></p> - -<p><i>Charmoleos</i>, a Megarian youth, a single -kiss of whom was valued at two talents<a name="FNanchor_166" id="FNanchor_166"></a><a href="#Footnote_166" class="fnanchor">[166]</a>, -was, no doubt, beautiful enough to serve -for a model of <i>Apollo</i>: Him, <i>Alcibiades</i>, -<i>Charmides</i>, and <i>Adimanthus</i><a name="FNanchor_167" id="FNanchor_167"></a><a href="#Footnote_167" class="fnanchor">[167]</a>, the artists could -see and study to their wish for several hours -every day: and can you imagine those trifling -opportunities proposed to the Parisian artists, -equivalents for the loss of advantages like -these? But granting that, pray, what is -there to be seen more in a swimmer than in -any other person? The extremities of the -body you may see every where. As for that -author<a name="FNanchor_168" id="FNanchor_168"></a><a href="#Footnote_168" class="fnanchor">[168]</a>, who pretends to find in France -beauties superior to those of <i>Alcibiades</i>, I -cannot help doubting his ability to maintain -what he asserts.</p> - -<p>What has been said hitherto might also<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -answer the objection drawn from the judgment -of our academies, concerning those parts of the -body which ought to be drawn rather more -angular than we find them in the antiques. -The Greeks, and their artists, were happy -in the enjoyment of figures endowed with -youthful harmony; for, we have no reason -to doubt their exactness in copying nature, -if we only consider the angular smartness -with which they drew the wrist-bones. -<i>Agasias</i>’s celebrated <i>Gladiator</i>, in the <i>Borghese</i>, -has none of the modern angles, nor -the bony prominences authorised by our artists: -all his angular parts are those we meet -with in the other Greek statues. And this -statue, which was perhaps one of those that -were erected, in the very places where the -games were held, to the memory of the -several victors, may be supposed an exact -copy of nature. The artist was bound to -represent any victor in the very attitude, and -instantaneous motion, in which he overcame<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -his antagonist, and the <i>Amphictyones</i> were -the judges of his performance<a name="FNanchor_169" id="FNanchor_169"></a><a href="#Footnote_169" class="fnanchor">[169]</a>.</p> - -<p>Many authors having written on this, and -the following point of the treatise, I have -contented myself with giving a few remarks -of my own. Superficial arguments, in matters -of this kind, can neither suit the deeper -views of our times, nor lead to general conclusions. -Nevertheless we do not want authors -whose premature decisions often get -the better of their judgment, and that not -in matters concerning the art alone. Pray, -what decisions of an author may be depended -upon, who, when designing to write on the -arts in general, shews himself so ignorant -of their very elements, as to ascribe to <i>Thucydides</i>, -whose concise and energetick style -was not without difficulties, even for <i>Tully</i><a name="FNanchor_170" id="FNanchor_170"></a><a href="#Footnote_170" class="fnanchor">[170]</a>, -the character of simplicity?<a name="FNanchor_171" id="FNanchor_171"></a><a href="#Footnote_171" class="fnanchor">[171]</a> Another of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> -that tribe, seems as little acquainted with -<i>Diodorus Siculus</i>, when he describes him as -hunting after elegance<a name="FNanchor_172" id="FNanchor_172"></a><a href="#Footnote_172" class="fnanchor">[172]</a>. Nor want we -blockheads enough who admire, in the ancient -performances, such trifles as are below -any reasonable man’s attention. “The -rope, says a travelling scribler, which ties -together Dirce and the ox, is to connoisseurs -the most beautiful object of the -whole groupe of the Toro Farnese<a name="FNanchor_173" id="FNanchor_173"></a><a href="#Footnote_173" class="fnanchor">[173]</a>.”</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Ah miser ægrota putruit cui mente salillum!</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">I am no stranger to those merits of the modern -artists which you oppose to the ancients: -but at the same time I know, that -the imitation of these alone has elevated the -others to that pitch of merit; and it would -be easy to prove that, whenever they forsook<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -the ancients, they fell into the faults -of those, whom alone I intended to blame.</p> - -<p>Nature undoubtedly misled Bernini: a -<i>Carita</i> of his, on the monument of Pope -Urban the VIIIth, is said to be corpulent, -and another on that of Alexander the VIIth, -even ugly<a name="FNanchor_174" id="FNanchor_174"></a><a href="#Footnote_174" class="fnanchor">[174]</a>. Certain it is, that no use could -be made of the Equestrian statue of Lewis -XIV. on which he had bestowed fifteen -years, and the King immense sums. He -was represented as ascending, on horseback, -the mount of honour: but the action both -of the rider and of the horse was exaggerated, -and too violent; which was the cause -of baptizing it a Curtius plunging into the -gulph, and its having been placed only in the -Thuilleries: from which we may infer, that -the most anxious imitation of nature is as little -sufficient for attaining beauty, as the study -of anatomy alone for attaining the justest -proportions: these Lairesse, by his own account,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> -took from the skeletons of Bidloo; -but, though a professor in his art, committed -many faults, which the good Roman -school, especially Raphael, cannot be -charged with. However, it is not meant -that there is no heaviness in his Venus; nor -does it clear him from the faults imputed to -him in the Massacre of the Innocents, engraved -by Marc. Antonio, as has been attempted -in a very rare treatise on painting<a name="FNanchor_175" id="FNanchor_175"></a><a href="#Footnote_175" class="fnanchor">[175]</a>; for there -the female figures labour under an exuberance -of breasts; whereas the murderers look -ghastly with leanness: a contrast not to be -admired: the sun itself has spots.</p> - -<p>Let Raphael be imitated in his best manner, -and when in his prime; those works -want no apology: it was to no purpose to -produce Parrhasius and Zeuxis in order to -excuse Him, and the Dutch proportions! -’Tis true, the passage of Pliny<a name="FNanchor_176" id="FNanchor_176"></a><a href="#Footnote_176" class="fnanchor">[176]</a>, which you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -quote concerning Parrhasius, meets commonly -with the same interpretation, viz. -<i>that, shunning corpulency he fell into leanness</i><a name="FNanchor_177" id="FNanchor_177"></a><a href="#Footnote_177" class="fnanchor">[177]</a>. -But supposing Pliny to have understood -what he wrote, we must clear him of -contradicting himself. A little before he -allowed to Parrhasius a superiority in the -contour, or in his own words, <i>in the outlines</i>; -and in the passage before us, <i>Parrhasius, -compared with himself, seems, in <span class="smcap">Point -of the middle parts</span>, to fall short of -himself</i>. The question is, what he means -by middle parts? Perhaps the parts bordering -on the outlines: but is not the designer -obliged to know every possible attitude of -the frame, every change of its contour? If -so, it is ridiculous to give this explication -to our passage: for the middle parts of a -full face are the outlines of its profile, and -so on. Consequently, there is no such thing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> -as middle parts to be met with by a designer: -the idea of a painter, well-skilled in -the contour of the outlines, but ignorant of -their contents, is an absurd one. Parrhasius -perhaps either wanted skill in the Chiaroscuro, -or Keeping in the disposition of his -limbs, and this seems the only explication, -which the words of Pliny can reasonably -admit of. Unless we choose to make him -another La Fage, who, though a celebrated -designer, never failed spoiling his contours -with his colours. Or, perhaps, to indulge -another conjecture, Parrhasius smoothed the -outlines of his contour, where it bordered -on the grounds, in order to avoid being -rough; a fault committed, as it seems, by -his contemporaries, and by the artists who -flourished in the beginning of the sixteenth -century, who circumscribed their figures, as -it were with a knife; but those smooth contours -wanted the support of keeping, and of -masses gradually rising or sinking, in order -to become round, and to strike the eye: by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -failing in which, his figures got an air of -flatness; and thus Parrhasius fell short of -himself, without being either too corpulent -or too lean.</p> - -<p>We cannot conclude, from the Homeric -shape which Zeuxis gave his female -figures, that he raised them, like Rubens, -into flesh-hills. There is some reason to -believe, from the education of the Spartan -ladies, that they had something of a masculine -vigour, though they were the chief -beauties of Greece; and such a one is the -Helena of Theocritus.</p> - -<p>All this makes me doubt of finding among -the ancients any companion for Jacob Jordans, -though he is so zealously defended in -your letter. Nor am I afraid of maintaining -what I have said concerning him. Mr. -d’Argenville is indeed a very industrious -collector of criticisms upon the artists; but -as his design is not very extensive, so his decisions -are often too general, to afford us -characteristical ideas of his heroes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> - -<p>A good eye must be allowed to be a better -judge, in matters of this kind, than all -the ambiguous decisions of authors: and to -fix the character of Jordans, I might content -myself with appealing to his Diogenes, -and the Purification, in the royal cabinet -at Dresden. But, for the reader’s sake, let -me inquire into the meaning of what you -call <i>Truth</i> in painting. For if truth, in the -general sense, can by no means be excluded -from any branch of the arts, we -have, in the decision of Mr. d’Argenville, a -riddle to unfold, which, if it has any meaning -at all, must have the following:</p> - -<p>Rubens, enabled by the inexhaustible fertility -of his genius, to pour forth fictions -like Homer himself, displays his riches even -to prodigality: like him he loved the marvellous, -as well in thought and grandeur -of conception, as in composition, and chiar’-oscuro. -His figures are composed in a manner -unknown before him, and his lights, -jointly darting upon one great mass, diffuse<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -over all his works a bold harmony, and -amazing spirit. Jordans, a genius of a -lower class, cannot, in the ideal part of -painting, by any means be compared with -his great master. He had no wings to soar -above nature; for which reason he humbly -followed, and painted her as he found her: -and if this be <i>truth</i>, he, no doubt, had a -larger share of it than Rubens.</p> - -<p>If the modern artists, with regard to -forms and beauty, are not to be directed -by antiquity, there is no authority left to influence -them. Some, in painting Venus, -would give her a Frenchified air<a name="FNanchor_178" id="FNanchor_178"></a><a href="#Footnote_178" class="fnanchor">[178]</a>; another -would present her with an Aquiline nose, -the Medicean Venus, as they would say, -having such a one<a name="FNanchor_179" id="FNanchor_179"></a><a href="#Footnote_179" class="fnanchor">[179]</a>: her hands would be -provided with spindles instead of fingers;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -and she would ogle us with Chinese eyes, -like the beauties of a new Italian school. -Every artist, in short, would, by his performance, -betray his country: but, as Democritus -says<a name="FNanchor_180" id="FNanchor_180"></a><a href="#Footnote_180" class="fnanchor">[180]</a>, if the artists ought to pray -the gods to let them meet with none but -auspicious images, those of the ancients will -best suit their wishes.</p> - -<p>Let us, however, make some exception -in favour of Fiamingo’s children. For, -lustiness and full health being the common -burden of the praises of children, whose infant -forms are not strictly susceptible of that -beauty, which belongs to the steadiness of -riper years; the imitation of his children -has reasonably become a fashion among our -artists. But neither this, nor the indulgence -of the academy at Vienna, can be, -or indeed was meant to be decisive, in favour -of the modern children; it only leads -us to make a distinction. The ancients<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -went beyond nature, even in their children: -the moderns only follow her; and, provided -their infant forms, exuberant as they -are, do not influence their ideas of youthful -and riper bodies, they may be allowed -to be in the right, though, at the same time, -the ancients were not in the wrong.</p> - -<p>Our artists are, likewise, at full liberty -to dress the hair of their figures as they -please: but, being so fond of nature, they, -must needs know, that it is nature which -shades, with pendant locks, the forehead and -temples of all those, whose life is not spent -between the comb and the looking-glass: -and finding this manner carefully observed -in most statues of the ancients, they may -take it as a proof of their attachment to -simplicity and truth; a proof of the more -weight, as they did not want people, busier -in adorning their bodies than their minds, -and as nice in adjusting their hair, as the -most elegant of our European courtiers. But -it was commonly looked upon as a mark of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -an ingenuous and noble extraction, to dress -the hair in the manner of the statues<a name="FNanchor_181" id="FNanchor_181"></a><a href="#Footnote_181" class="fnanchor">[181]</a>.</p> - -<p>The imitation of the ancient contour has -indeed never been rejected, not even by those -whose chief want was that of correctness: -but we differ about imitating that “noble -simplicity and sedate grandeur” in their -works. An expression which hath seldom -met with general approbation, and never -pronounced without hazard of being misunderstood.</p> - -<p>In the Hercules of Bandinelli, the idea of -it was deemed a fault<a name="FNanchor_182" id="FNanchor_182"></a><a href="#Footnote_182" class="fnanchor">[182]</a>: an usurpation in -Raphael’s Massacre of the Innocents<a name="FNanchor_183" id="FNanchor_183"></a><a href="#Footnote_183" class="fnanchor">[183]</a>.</p> - -<p>The idea of “nature at rest,” I own, -might, perhaps, produce figures like the -young Spartans of Xenophon; nor would -the bulk of mankind be better pleased with -performances in the taste of my treatise, -(supposing even all its precepts authorised<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -by the judges of the art) than with a speech -made before the Areopagites. But it is not -on the bulk of mankind that we ought to -confer the legislative power in the art. -And though works of an extensive composition -ought certainly to have the support -of a vigour and spirit proportioned to their -extent, yet there are limits which must not -be overleapt: use not so much spirit as to -represent the everlasting Father like the cruel -God of war, or an ecstasied saint like a -priestess of Bacchus.</p> - -<p>Indeed, in the eyes of one unacquainted -with this characteristick of the sublime, a -Madonna of Trevisani will seem preferable -to that of Raphael in the royal cabinet at -Dresden. I know that even artists were of -opinion, that its being placed so near one of -the former, was not a little disadvantageous -to it. Hence it seemed not superfluous to -enquire into the true grandeur of that inestimable -picture, as it is the only production<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> -of this Apollo of painters, that -Germany is possessed of.</p> - -<p>No comparison, indeed, is to be made -of its composition with that of the transfiguration; -which, however, I think fully -compensated by its being genuine: whereas -Julio Romano might perhaps claim one half -of the other as his own. The difference of -the hands is visible: but in the Madonna, -the spirit of that epoch, in which Raphael -performed his Athenian school, shines with -so full a lustre, as to make even the authority -of Vasari superfluous.</p> - -<p>’Tis no easy matter to convince a critick, -conceited enough to blame the Jesus of the -Madonna, that he is mistaken. Pythagoras, -says an antient philosopher<a name="FNanchor_184" id="FNanchor_184"></a><a href="#Footnote_184" class="fnanchor">[184]</a>, and Anaxagoras -look at the sun with different eyes: -the former sees a God, the latter a stone. -We want but experience to discover truth -and beauty in the faces of Raphael, without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -enquiring into their dignity: beauty -pleases, but serious graces charm<a name="FNanchor_185" id="FNanchor_185"></a><a href="#Footnote_185" class="fnanchor">[185]</a>. Such -are the beauties of the ancients, which -gave that serious air to Antinous, which -we generally ascribe to his shading locks. -Sudden raptures, or the enticement of a -glance, are often momentary; let an attentive -eye dwell upon those confused beauties -which the transient look conveys, and the -paint will vanish. True charms owe their -durability to reflection, and hidden graces allure -our enquiries: reluctant and unsatisfied -we leave a coy beauty, in continual admiration -of some new-fancied charm: and -such are the beauties of Raphael and the -ancients; not agreeably trifling ones, but -regular and full of real graces<a name="FNanchor_186" id="FNanchor_186"></a><a href="#Footnote_186" class="fnanchor">[186]</a>. By that -Cleopatra became the beauty of all ensuing -ages: nobody<a name="FNanchor_187" id="FNanchor_187"></a><a href="#Footnote_187" class="fnanchor">[187]</a> was astonished at her face, -but her air engaged every eye, and subdued<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -the melted heart. A French Venus at her -toilet is much like Seneca’s wit: which, if -put to the test, disappears<a name="FNanchor_188" id="FNanchor_188"></a><a href="#Footnote_188" class="fnanchor">[188]</a>.</p> - -<p>The comparison of Raphael and some of -the most celebrated Dutch, and new Italian -painters, concerns only the management, -(<i>Trattamento</i>). The endeavours of the former -of these, to hide the laborious industry that -appears in all their works, gives an additional -sanction to my judgment; for, hiding -is labour. The most difficult part in performances -of the arts, is to spread an air -of easiness, the “<span class="smcap">ut sibi quivis</span>” over -them<a name="FNanchor_189" id="FNanchor_189"></a><a href="#Footnote_189" class="fnanchor">[189]</a>; of which, among the ancients, the -pictures of Nicomachus were entirely destitute<a name="FNanchor_190" id="FNanchor_190"></a><a href="#Footnote_190" class="fnanchor">[190]</a>.</p> - -<p>All this, however, is not meant to derogate -from Vanderwerf’s superior merit: his -works give a lustre even to the cabinets of -kings. He diffused over them an inconceivable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -polish; every trace of his pencil, one -would think, is molten; and, in the colliquation -of his tints, there reigns but -one predominant colour. He might be -said to have enamelled rather than painted.</p> - -<p>His works indeed please. But does the -character of painting consist in pleasing alone? -Denner’s bald pates please likewise. -But what, do you imagine, would the wise -ancients think of them? Plutarch, from -the mouth of some Aristides or Zeuxis, -would tell him, that beauty never dwells in -wrinkles<a name="FNanchor_191" id="FNanchor_191"></a><a href="#Footnote_191" class="fnanchor">[191]</a>.</p> - -<p>’Tis said, the Emperor Charles VI. when -he first saw one of Denner’s pictures, was -loud in its praise, and in admiration of his -industry. The painter was immediately desired -to make a fellow to the first, and was -magnificently rewarded: but the Emperor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -comparing each of them with some pieces -of Rembrandt and Vandyke, declared, “that -having now satisfied his curiosity, he would -on no account have any more from this artist.” -An English nobleman was of the -same opinion: for being shewn a picture of -Denner’s, “You are in the wrong, said he, -if you believe that our nation esteems performances, -which owe their merits to industry -rather than to genius.”</p> - -<p>I am far from applying these remarks to -Vanderwerf; the difference between him -and Denner is too great: I only joined them -in order to prove, that a picture which -only pleases can no more pretend to universal -approbation than a poem. No; their -charms must be durable; but here we meet -with causes of disgust in the very parts, -where the painter endeavoured to please -us.</p> - -<p>Those parts of nature that are beyond -observation, were the chief objects of these<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -painters: they were particularly cautious of -changing the situation even of the minutest -hair, in order to surprize the most sharp-sighted -eye with all the microcosm of nature. -They may be compared to those disciples -of Anaxagoras, who placed all human -wisdom in the palm of the hand—but -mark, as soon as they attempt to stretch -their art beyond these limits, to draw larger -proportions, or the nudities, the painter appears</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Infelix operis summâ, quia ponere totum nescit.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>Design is as certainly the painter’s first, second, -and third requisite, as action is that of -the orator.</p> - -<p>I readily allow the solidity of your remarks, -concerning the “reliefs” of the ancients. -In my treatise I myself charged -them with a want of sufficient skill in perspective;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -and hence the faults in their reliefs.</p> - -<p>The fourth point chiefly concerns <i>Allegory</i>.</p> - -<p>In painting we commonly call fiction allegory: -for, though imitation arises from -the very principles of painting as well as of -poetry, it constitutes, by itself, neither of -them<a name="FNanchor_192" id="FNanchor_192"></a><a href="#Footnote_192" class="fnanchor">[192]</a>. A picture, without allegory, is but -a vulgar image, and resembles Davenant’s -Gondibert, an epopée without fiction.</p> - -<p>Colouring and design are to painting -what metre and truth, or the fable, are to -poetry; a body without soul. Poetry, says -Aristotle, was first inspired with its soul, -with fiction, by Homer; and with that the -painter must animate his work. Design and -colouring are the fruits of attention and -practice: perspective and composition, in -the strictest sense, are established on fixed -rules; they are of course but mechanical;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -and, if I may be allowed the expression, only -mechanical souls are wanting to understand -and to admire them.</p> - -<p>Pleasures in general, save only those which -rob the bulk of mankind of their invaluable -treasure, time, become durable, and are free -from tediousness and disgust, in proportion -as they engage our intellectual faculties. -Mere sensual sentiments soon languish; they -do not influence our reason: such is the delight -we take in the common landscape, -flower, and fruit paintings: the artist, in -performing them, thinks but very little; -and the connoisseur, in considering them, -thinks no more.</p> - -<p>A mere history-piece differs from a landscape -only in the object: in the former you -draw facts and persons, in the latter, sky, -land, seas, &c. both, of course, being -founded on the same principle, imitation, are -essentially but of one kind.</p> - -<p>If it be not a contradiction to stretch the -limits of painting, as far as those of poetry,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> -and consequently, to allow the painter -the same ability of elevating himself to the -pitch of the poet as the musician enjoys; -it is clear that history, though the sublimest -branch of painting, cannot raise itself to the -heighths of tragick or epick poetry, by imitation -alone.</p> - -<p>Homer, as Cicero tells us<a name="FNanchor_193" id="FNanchor_193"></a><a href="#Footnote_193" class="fnanchor">[193]</a>, has transformed -man into God: which is to say; he -not only exceeded truth, but, to raise his -fiction, preferred even the impossible, if -probable, to the barely possible<a name="FNanchor_194" id="FNanchor_194"></a><a href="#Footnote_194" class="fnanchor">[194]</a>. In this -Aristotle fixes the very essence of poetry, and -tells us that the pictures of Zeuxis had that -characteristick. The possibility and truth, -which Longinus requires of the painter, as -opposites to absurdity in poetry, are not contradictory -to this rule.</p> - -<p>This heighth the history-painter cannot -reach, only by a contour above common nature, -or a noble expression of the passions:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -for these are requisite in a good portrait-painter, -who is able to execute them without -diminishing the likeness of his model. -They are but imitation, only prudently -managed. The heads of Vandyke are -charged with too exact an observation of nature; -an exactness that would be faulty in -a history-piece.</p> - -<p>Truth, lovely as it is in itself, charms -more, penetrates deeper, when invested with -fiction: fable, in its strictest sense, is the -delight of childhood; allegory that of riper -years. And the old opinion, that poetry was -of earlier date than prose, as unanimously -attested by the annals of different people, -makes it evident, that even in the most barbarous -times, truth was preferred, when appearing -in this dress.</p> - -<p>Our understanding, moreover, labours under -the fault of bestowing its attention chiefly -on things, whose beauties are not to be perceived -at first sight, and of inadvertently -slighting others, because clear as day: images<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -of this kind, like a ship on the waves, leave -but momentary traces in our memory. Hence -the ideas of our childhood are the most permanent, -because every common occurrence -then seems extraordinary. Thus, if nature -herself instructs us, that she is not to be -moved by common things, let art, as the -Orator, ad Herennium, advises us, follow -her dictates.</p> - -<p>Every idea increases in strength, if accompanied -by another or more ideas, as in -comparisons; and the more still as they -differ in kind: for ideas, too analogous to -each other, do not strike: as for instance, a -white skin compared to snow. Hence the -power of discovering a similarity, in the most -different things, is what we commonly -call wit; Aristotle, “unexpected ideas”: -and these he requires in an orator<a name="FNanchor_195" id="FNanchor_195"></a><a href="#Footnote_195" class="fnanchor">[195]</a>. The -more you are surprized by a picture, the -more you are affected; and both those effects<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -are to be obtained by allegory, like to -fruit hid beneath leaves and branches, which -when found surprizes the more agreeably, the -less it was thought of. The smallest composition -is susceptible of the sublimest powers -of art: all depends upon the idea.</p> - -<p>Necessity first taught the artists to use -allegory. No doubt, they began with the -representation of single objects of one class: -but as they improved, they attempted to express -what was common to many particulars; -<i>i. e.</i> general ideas. All the qualities -of single objects afford such ideas: but to -become general, and at the same time sensible, -they cannot preserve the particular -shape of such or such an object, but must -be submitted to another shape, essential to -that object, but a general one.</p> - -<p>The Egyptians were the first, who went -in search of images of that kind. Such -were their hieroglyphicks. All the deities of -antiquity, especially those of Greece, nay, -their very names, were originally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> -Egyptian<a name="FNanchor_196" id="FNanchor_196"></a><a href="#Footnote_196" class="fnanchor">[196]</a>. Their personal theology was quite -allegorical; and so is ours. But the symbols -of these inventors, partly preserved by the -Greeks, were often so mysteriously arbitrary, -as to make it altogether impossible to find -out their meaning, even by the help of those -authors that are still extant; and such a discovery -was looked upon as a nefarious profanation<a name="FNanchor_197" id="FNanchor_197"></a><a href="#Footnote_197" class="fnanchor">[197]</a>. -Thus sacredly mysterious was -the pomegranate<a name="FNanchor_198" id="FNanchor_198"></a><a href="#Footnote_198" class="fnanchor">[198]</a> in the hand of the Samian -Juno: and to divulge the Eleusinian rites, -was thought worse than the robbery of a -temple<a name="FNanchor_199" id="FNanchor_199"></a><a href="#Footnote_199" class="fnanchor">[199]</a>.</p> - -<p>The relation of the sign to the thing signified, -was in some measure founded on the -known or pretended qualities of the latter. -The Egyptian Horsemarten was of that kind; -an image of the sun, because his species was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -said to have no female, and to live six months -under and six above ground<a name="FNanchor_200" id="FNanchor_200"></a><a href="#Footnote_200" class="fnanchor">[200]</a>. In like -manner the cat, being supposed to bring -forth a number of kittens equal to that of -the days in a month, became the symbol of -Isis, or the moon<a name="FNanchor_201" id="FNanchor_201"></a><a href="#Footnote_201" class="fnanchor">[201]</a>.</p> - -<p>The Greeks, on the contrary, endowed -with more wit, and undoubtedly with more -sensibility, made use of no signs but such as -had a true relation to the thing signified, -or were most agreeable to the senses: all -their deities they invested with human -forms<a name="FNanchor_202" id="FNanchor_202"></a><a href="#Footnote_202" class="fnanchor">[202]</a>. Wings, among the Egyptians, -were the symbol of eager and effectual services; -a symbol conformable to their nature, -and continued by the Greeks: and if the -Attick <i>Victoria</i> had none, it was meant to -signify, that she had chosen Athens for her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -abode<a name="FNanchor_203" id="FNanchor_203"></a><a href="#Footnote_203" class="fnanchor">[203]</a>. A goose, among the Egyptians, -was the symbol of a cautious leader; in -consequence of which the prows of their -ships were formed like geese<a name="FNanchor_204" id="FNanchor_204"></a><a href="#Footnote_204" class="fnanchor">[204]</a>. This the -Greeks preserved also, and the ancient <i>Rostrum</i> -resembled the neck of a goose<a name="FNanchor_205" id="FNanchor_205"></a><a href="#Footnote_205" class="fnanchor">[205]</a>.</p> - -<p>Of all the figures, whose relation to their -intended meaning is somewhat obscure, the -Sphinx perhaps alone was continued by the -Greeks. Placed in the front of a temple, -it was, among the Greeks, almost as instructive, -as it was significant among the -Egyptians<a name="FNanchor_206" id="FNanchor_206"></a><a href="#Footnote_206" class="fnanchor">[206]</a>. The Greek Sphinx was winged<a name="FNanchor_207" id="FNanchor_207"></a><a href="#Footnote_207" class="fnanchor">[207]</a>, -its head bare, without that stole which -it wears on some Attick coins<a name="FNanchor_208" id="FNanchor_208"></a><a href="#Footnote_208" class="fnanchor">[208]</a>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> - -<p>It was in general a characteristic of the -Greeks, to mark their productions with a -certain chearfulness: the muses love not -hideous phantoms: and Homer himself, -when by the mouth of some god he cites an -Egyptian allegory, always cautiously begins -with “<span class="smcap">We are told</span>.” Nay, the elder -Pampho<a name="FNanchor_209" id="FNanchor_209"></a><a href="#Footnote_209" class="fnanchor">[209]</a>, though he exceeds the Egyptian -oddities, by his description of Jupiter wrapt -up in horse-dung, approaches nevertheless -the sublime idea of the English poet:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart;</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>As full, as perfect, in vile man that mourns,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>As the rapt seraph, that adores and burns.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Pope.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p>It will be no easy matter to find, among -the old Greek coins, an image like that of a -snake encircling an egg<a name="FNanchor_210" id="FNanchor_210"></a><a href="#Footnote_210" class="fnanchor">[210]</a>, on a Syrian coin -of the third century. None of their monuments<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -are marked with any thing ghastly: -of these they were, if possible, still more -cautious than of ill-omen’d words. The -image of death is not to be seen, perhaps, -but on one gem<a name="FNanchor_211" id="FNanchor_211"></a><a href="#Footnote_211" class="fnanchor">[211]</a>, and that in the shape commonly -exhibited at their feasts<a name="FNanchor_212" id="FNanchor_212"></a><a href="#Footnote_212" class="fnanchor">[212]</a>; <i>viz.</i> dancing -to a flute, with intent to make them -enjoy the present pleasures of life, by reminding -them of its shortness. On another -gem<a name="FNanchor_213" id="FNanchor_213"></a><a href="#Footnote_213" class="fnanchor">[213]</a>, with a Roman inscription, there is a -skeleton, with two butterflies as images of -the soul, one of which is caught by a bird; -a pretended symbol of the metempsychosis: -but the performance is of latter times.</p> - -<p>It has been likewise observed, that<a name="FNanchor_214" id="FNanchor_214"></a><a href="#Footnote_214" class="fnanchor">[214]</a> among -those myriads of altars, sacred even to the -most whimsical deities, there never was one -set apart to death; save only on the solitary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> -coasts, which were deemed the borders of -the world<a name="FNanchor_215" id="FNanchor_215"></a><a href="#Footnote_215" class="fnanchor">[215]</a>.</p> - -<p>The Romans, in their best times, thought -like the Greeks; and always, in adopting -the iconology of a foreign nation, traced the -footsteps of these their masters. An elephant, -one of the latter mysterious symbols of the -Egyptians<a name="FNanchor_216" id="FNanchor_216"></a><a href="#Footnote_216" class="fnanchor">[216]</a> (for there is on the most ancient -monuments neither elephant<a name="FNanchor_217" id="FNanchor_217"></a><a href="#Footnote_217" class="fnanchor">[217]</a> nor hart, ostrich -nor cock, to be found), was the image -of different things<a name="FNanchor_218" id="FNanchor_218"></a><a href="#Footnote_218" class="fnanchor">[218]</a>, and perhaps of eternity, -as on some Roman<a name="FNanchor_219" id="FNanchor_219"></a><a href="#Footnote_219" class="fnanchor">[219]</a> coins, because of -his longevity. But on a coin of the emperor -Antoninus, this animal, with the inscription, -<span class="smcapuc">MUNIFICENTIA</span>, cannot possibly hint at any -other thing but the grand games, the magnificence -of which was augmented by those -animals.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span></p> - -<p>But it is no more my design to attempt -an inquiry into the origin of every allegorical -symbol among the Greeks and Romans, -than to write a system of allegory. All I -propose is, to defend what I have advanced -concerning it, and at the same time to direct -the artist to the images of those ancients, in -preference to the iconologies and ill-judged -symbols of some moderns.</p> - -<p>We may, from a little specimen, form a -judgment of the turn of mind of those ancients, -and of the possibility of subjecting -abstracted ideas to the senses. The symbols -of many a gem, coin, and monument, enjoy -their fixed and universally received interpretation; -but some of the most memorable, -not yet brought to a proper standard, -deserve a nearer determination.</p> - -<p>Perhaps the allegory of the ancients might -be divided, like painting and poetry in general, -into two classes, <i>viz.</i> the <i>sublime</i>, -and the <i>more vulgar</i>. Symbols of the one -might be those by which some mythological<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -or philosophical allusion, or even some unknown -or mysterious rite, is expressed.</p> - -<p>Such as are more commonly understood, -<i>viz.</i> personified virtues, vices, <i>&c.</i> might be -referred to the other.</p> - -<p>The images of the former give to performances -of the art the true epick grandeur: -one single figure is sufficient to give it: the -more it contains, the sublimer it is: the -more it engages our attention, the deeper it -penetrates, and we of course feel it the -more.</p> - -<p>The ancients, in order to represent a child -dying in his bloom, painted him carried off -by Aurora<a name="FNanchor_220" id="FNanchor_220"></a><a href="#Footnote_220" class="fnanchor">[220]</a>: a striking image! taken, perhaps, -from the custom of burying youths at -day-break. The ideas of the bulk of our -artists, in this respect, are too trivial to be -mentioned here.</p> - -<p>The animation of the body, one of the -most abstracted ideas, was represented by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -the loveliest, most poetical images. An artist, -who should imagine he could express this -idea by the Mosaick creation, would be mistaken; -for his image would be merely historical, -and nothing but the creation of -Adam: a history altogether too sacred for -being either admitted as the allegory of a -mere philosophical idea, or into every place: -neither does it seem poetical enough for the -flights of the art. This idea appears on -coins and gems<a name="FNanchor_221" id="FNanchor_221"></a><a href="#Footnote_221" class="fnanchor">[221]</a>, as described by the most -ancient poets and philosophers: Prometheus -forming a man of that clay, of which large -petrified heaps were found in Phocis in the -time of Pausanias<a name="FNanchor_222" id="FNanchor_222"></a><a href="#Footnote_222" class="fnanchor">[222]</a>; and Minerva holding -a butterfly, as an image of the soul, over -his head. The snake encircling a tree behind -Minerva, on the above coin of Antoninus -Pius, is a supposed symbol of his prudence -and sagacity.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span></p> - -<p>It cannot be denied that the meaning of -many an ancient allegory is merely conjectural, -and therefore not to be applied on every -occasion. A child catching a butterfly on an -altar was pretended to signify <i>Amicitia ad -aras</i>, or, “which is not to exceed the borders -of justice<a name="FNanchor_223" id="FNanchor_223"></a><a href="#Footnote_223" class="fnanchor">[223]</a>.” On another gem, Love, -endeavouring to pull off the branch of an -old tree, where a nightingale is perching, is -said to allegorize love of wisdom<a name="FNanchor_224" id="FNanchor_224"></a><a href="#Footnote_224" class="fnanchor">[224]</a>. <i>Eros</i>, -<i>Himeros</i>, and <i>Pathos</i>, the symbols of Love, -Appetite, and Desire, are represented, they -say<a name="FNanchor_225" id="FNanchor_225"></a><a href="#Footnote_225" class="fnanchor">[225]</a>, on a gem, encompassing the sacred -fire on an altar; Love behind the fire, -his head only over-reaching the flames; -Appetite and Desire on both sides of the -altar; Appetite with one hand only in -the fire, with the other holding a garland; -Desire with both his hands in the -flames. A <i>Victoria</i> crowning an anchor, on -a coin of king Seleucus, was formerly regarded<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -as an image of peace and security procured -by victory, till by the help of history -we have been enabled to give it its true interpretation. -Seleucus is said to have been -born with a mark resembling an anchor<a name="FNanchor_226" id="FNanchor_226"></a><a href="#Footnote_226" class="fnanchor">[226]</a>, -which not only he himself, but all his descendants, -the Seleucidæ, have preserved on -their coins<a name="FNanchor_227" id="FNanchor_227"></a><a href="#Footnote_227" class="fnanchor">[227]</a>.</p> - -<p>There is another Victoria with butterfly’s -wings<a name="FNanchor_228" id="FNanchor_228"></a><a href="#Footnote_228" class="fnanchor">[228]</a>, fastened on a trophy. This, they -say, is the symbol of a hero, who, like -Epaminondas, died in the very act of conquering. -At Athens such a statue<a name="FNanchor_229" id="FNanchor_229"></a><a href="#Footnote_229" class="fnanchor">[229]</a>, and an -altar to an unwinged Victoria, was the -symbol of their perpetual success in battle: -ours may admit of the same explication as -Mars in chains at Sparta<a name="FNanchor_230" id="FNanchor_230"></a><a href="#Footnote_230" class="fnanchor">[230]</a>. Nor was she, as -I presume, provided at random with wings -usually given to Psyche, her own being<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -those of an eagle: they perhaps signify the -soul of the deceased: however, all these -conjectures might be tolerable, if a Victoria -fastened on trophies of conquered enemies -could reasonably correspond with their being -vanquished.</p> - -<p>Indeed the sublimer allegory of the ancients -has not been transmitted to us, without -the loss of its most valuable treasures: it is -poor, when compared with the second kind, -which is often provided with several symbols -for one idea. Two different ones, signifying -the happiness of the times, are expressed -on coins of the emperor Commodus: the -one a lady<a name="FNanchor_231" id="FNanchor_231"></a><a href="#Footnote_231" class="fnanchor">[231]</a>, sitting with an apple or ball in -her right, and a dial in her left hand, beneath -a leafy tree: three children are before -her, two in a vase or flower-pot, the usual -symbol of fertility: the other represents four -children, who, as is clear by the things they -bear, are the seasons. Both have the subscription -<span class="smcapuc">FELICITAS TEMPORVM</span>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> - -<p>But these, and all the symbols that want -inscriptions, are of a lower rank; and some -of them might as well be taken for signs of -different ideas. Hope<a name="FNanchor_232" id="FNanchor_232"></a><a href="#Footnote_232" class="fnanchor">[232]</a> and Fertility<a name="FNanchor_233" id="FNanchor_233"></a><a href="#Footnote_233" class="fnanchor">[233]</a>, for instance, -might be Ceres, Nobility<a name="FNanchor_234" id="FNanchor_234"></a><a href="#Footnote_234" class="fnanchor">[234]</a>, Minerva. -Patience<a name="FNanchor_235" id="FNanchor_235"></a><a href="#Footnote_235" class="fnanchor">[235]</a>, on a coin of Aurelian, wants her -true characteristick, as does Erato; and the -Parcæ<a name="FNanchor_236" id="FNanchor_236"></a><a href="#Footnote_236" class="fnanchor">[236]</a> are only by their garments distinguished -from the Graces. On the contrary, -ideas which are often confounded in morality, -as Justice and Equity, are extremely -well distinguished by the ancients. The -former is represented, as drawn by <i>Gellius</i><a name="FNanchor_237" id="FNanchor_237"></a><a href="#Footnote_237" class="fnanchor">[237]</a>, -with a stern look, a diadem, and dressed -hair<a name="FNanchor_238" id="FNanchor_238"></a><a href="#Footnote_238" class="fnanchor">[238]</a>; the latter with a mild countenance, -and waving ringlets; ears of corn arising -from her balance, as symbols of the advantages<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -of equity; and sometimes she holds in -her other hand<a name="FNanchor_239" id="FNanchor_239"></a><a href="#Footnote_239" class="fnanchor">[239]</a> a cornu-copia.</p> - -<p>Peace, on a coin of the emperor Titus, -is to be ranked among those of a more energetick -expression. The goddess of Peace -leans on a pillar with her left arm, in the -hand of which she holds the branch of an -olive-tree, whilst the other waves the caduceus -over the thigh of a victim on a little -altar, which hints at the bloodless sacrifices -of that goddess: the victims were slaughtered -out of the temple, and nothing but the -thighs were offered at the altar, which was -not to be stained with blood.</p> - -<p>Peace usually appears with the olive-branch -and the caduceus, as on another coin -of this emperor<a name="FNanchor_240" id="FNanchor_240"></a><a href="#Footnote_240" class="fnanchor">[240]</a>; or on a stool placed on a -heap of arms, as on a coin of Drusus<a name="FNanchor_241" id="FNanchor_241"></a><a href="#Footnote_241" class="fnanchor">[241]</a>. On -some of Tiberius’s and Vespasian’s coins<a name="FNanchor_242" id="FNanchor_242"></a><a href="#Footnote_242" class="fnanchor">[242]</a> -Peace appears in the act of burning arms.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> - -<p>On a coin of the Emperor Philip there is -a noble image; a sleeping Victory: which, -with better reason, may be taken for the -symbol of confidence in conquest, than for -that in the security of the world as the inscription -pretends. Of an analogous idea was -the picture, by which the Athenian General -Timotheus was ridiculed, for the blind luck -with which he obtained his victories: he -was represented asleep, with Fortune catching -Towns in her Net<a name="FNanchor_243" id="FNanchor_243"></a><a href="#Footnote_243" class="fnanchor">[243]</a>.</p> - -<p>The Nile, with his sixteen children, is of -this same class<a name="FNanchor_244" id="FNanchor_244"></a><a href="#Footnote_244" class="fnanchor">[244]</a>. The child that reaches -the ears of corn, and the fruits, in his -Cornu, is the symbol of the highest fertility; -but those that over-reach them are -signs of miscarrying seasons. Pliny explains -the whole<a name="FNanchor_245" id="FNanchor_245"></a><a href="#Footnote_245" class="fnanchor">[245]</a>. Egypt is at the height of its -fertility, when the Nile rises sixteen feet: -but if it either falls short of, or exceeds that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -measure, it equally blasts the land with unfruitfulness. -Rossi, in his collection, neglected -the children.</p> - -<p>Satyrical pictures belong also to this class: -the Ass of Gabrias, for instance<a name="FNanchor_246" id="FNanchor_246"></a><a href="#Footnote_246" class="fnanchor">[246]</a>, which -imagines itself worshipped by the people, -as they bow to the statue of Isis on its -back. It is impossible to give a livelier -image of the pride of the Vulgar-Great.</p> - -<p>The sublimer allegory might be supplied -by the lower class, had it not met with the -same fate. We are, for instance, not acquainted -with the figure of Eloquence, or -<i>Peitho</i>; or that of the Goddess of Comfort, -<i>Parergon</i>, represented by Praxiteles, as Pausanias -tells us<a name="FNanchor_247" id="FNanchor_247"></a><a href="#Footnote_247" class="fnanchor">[247]</a>. Oblivion had an altar among -the Romans<a name="FNanchor_248" id="FNanchor_248"></a><a href="#Footnote_248" class="fnanchor">[248]</a>, and perhaps a figure: -as may also be supposed of Chastity, whose<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> -altar is to be found on coins<a name="FNanchor_249" id="FNanchor_249"></a><a href="#Footnote_249" class="fnanchor">[249]</a>; and of -Fear, to which Theseus offered sacrifices<a name="FNanchor_250" id="FNanchor_250"></a><a href="#Footnote_250" class="fnanchor">[250]</a>.</p> - -<p>However, the remains of ancient allegory -are not yet worn out: there are still many -secret stores: the poets, and other monuments -of antiquity, afford numbers of beautiful -images. Those, who in our time, and -that of our fathers, were busy in improving -allegory, and in facilitating the endeavours -of the artists; those, I say, should reasonably -have had recourse to so rich and pure -a fountain. But there was an epoch to appear, -in which a shocking croud of pedants -should, with downright madness, conspire -in an universal uproar against every the -lead glimpse of good taste. Nature, in their -eyes, was puerile, and ought to be fashioned: -blockheads, both young and old, vied in -painting devices and emblems, for the benefit -of artists, philosophers, and divines; and -woe to him who made a compliment, without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -dressing it up in an emblem! Symbols -void of sense were illustrated with inscriptions, -giving an account of what they -meant, and meant not: these are the treasures -which are dug for, even in our times, -and which, being then in high fashion, out-shone -all antiquity had left.</p> - -<p>The ancients, for instance, represented -Munificence by a woman holding a Cornucopia -in one hand, and the table of the Roman -Congiarium in the other<a name="FNanchor_251" id="FNanchor_251"></a><a href="#Footnote_251" class="fnanchor">[251]</a>: an image -which looked too parsimonious for modern -liberality; another therefore was contrived<a name="FNanchor_252" id="FNanchor_252"></a><a href="#Footnote_252" class="fnanchor">[252]</a>, -with two horns; one of them inverted, -the better to pour out its contents; an eagle, -the meaning of which is too hard for me -to guess at, was set upon her head; others -painted her with a pot in each hand<a name="FNanchor_253" id="FNanchor_253"></a><a href="#Footnote_253" class="fnanchor">[253]</a>. -Eternity was, by the ancients, drawn either<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -sitting on a Globe, or rather Sphere<a name="FNanchor_254" id="FNanchor_254"></a><a href="#Footnote_254" class="fnanchor">[254]</a>, with a -Hasta in her hand; or standing<a name="FNanchor_255" id="FNanchor_255"></a><a href="#Footnote_255" class="fnanchor">[255]</a>, with the -Sphere in one hand, and the Hasta in the -other; or with the Sphere in her hand, and -no Hasta; or else covered with a floating -Veil<a name="FNanchor_256" id="FNanchor_256"></a><a href="#Footnote_256" class="fnanchor">[256]</a>. These are the images of Eternity on -the coins of the Empress Faustina: but there -was not gravity enough in them for the modern -artists. Eternity, so frightful to many, -required a frightful image<a name="FNanchor_257" id="FNanchor_257"></a><a href="#Footnote_257" class="fnanchor">[257]</a>; a form female -down to the breast, with Globes in each -hand; the rest of the Body a circling star-marked -Snake turning into itself.</p> - -<p>Providence very often has a Globe at her -feet, and a Hasta in her left hand<a name="FNanchor_258" id="FNanchor_258"></a><a href="#Footnote_258" class="fnanchor">[258]</a>. On a -coin of the Emperor Pertinax<a name="FNanchor_259" id="FNanchor_259"></a><a href="#Footnote_259" class="fnanchor">[259]</a>, she stretches -out both her hands, towards a Globe falling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -from the clouds. A female figure, with -two heads, seemed more expressive to the -moderns<a name="FNanchor_260" id="FNanchor_260"></a><a href="#Footnote_260" class="fnanchor">[260]</a>.</p> - -<p>Constancy, on some of Claudius’s coins<a name="FNanchor_261" id="FNanchor_261"></a><a href="#Footnote_261" class="fnanchor">[261]</a>, -is either fitting or standing, with a Helmet -on her head, and a Hasta in her left hand; -or without Helmet and Hasta, but always -with a finger pointing to her face, as if -closely debating some point. For distinction -sake the moderns joined a couple of pillars<a name="FNanchor_262" id="FNanchor_262"></a><a href="#Footnote_262" class="fnanchor">[262]</a>.</p> - -<p>It is very probable, that Ripa was often -at a loss with his own figures. Chastity, in -his Iconology, holds in one hand a Whip<a name="FNanchor_263" id="FNanchor_263"></a><a href="#Footnote_263" class="fnanchor">[263]</a>, -(a strange incitement to virtue) in the other -a Sieve: The first inventor, perhaps, hinted -at Tuccia the vestal; which Ripa not remembring, -indulges the most absurd whims, -not worth repeating.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span></p> - -<p>By thus contrasting ancient and modern -allegory, I mean not to divert our times of -their right of settling new allegories: but -from the different manners of thinking, I -shall draw some rules, for those that are to -tread these paths.</p> - -<p>The character of noble simplicity was the -chief aim of the Greeks and Romans: of -which Romeyn de Hooghe has given the -very contrast. His book, in general, may -very fitly be compared to the elm in Virgil’s -hell:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse indent3"><i>Hanc sedem somnia vulgo</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Vana tenere ferunt, foliisque sub omnibus hærent.</i></div> -<div class="attr">Æn. VI.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">The distinctness of the ancient allegory was -owing to the individuation of its images. -Their rule, (if we except only a few of those -above-mentioned), was to avoid every ambiguity; -a rule slightly observed by the moderns: -the Hart, for instance, symbolizing<a name="FNanchor_264" id="FNanchor_264"></a><a href="#Footnote_264" class="fnanchor">[264]</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -baptism, revenge, remorse, and flattery; -the Cedar, a preacher, worldly vanities, a -scholar, and a woman dying in the pangs of -child-birth.</p> - -<p>That simplicity and distinctness were always -accompanied by a certain decency. -A hog signifying, among the Egyptians, a -scrutator of mysteries<a name="FNanchor_265" id="FNanchor_265"></a><a href="#Footnote_265" class="fnanchor">[265]</a>, together with all the -swine of Cæsar Ripa and some of the moderns, -would have been thought, by the -Greeks, too indecent a symbol of any thing -whatever: save only where that animal -made part of the arms of a place, as it appears -to be on the Eleusinian coins<a name="FNanchor_266" id="FNanchor_266"></a><a href="#Footnote_266" class="fnanchor">[266]</a>.</p> - -<p>The last rule of the ancients was to beware -of signs too near a-kin to the thing -signified. Let the young allegorist observe -these rules, and study them, jointly with -mythology, and the remotest history.</p> - -<p>Indeed some modern allegories, (if those -ought to be called modern that are entirely<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -in the taste of antiquity), may perhaps be -compared with the sublimer class of the ancient.</p> - -<p>Two brothers of the Barbarigo-family, -immediately succeeding each other<a name="FNanchor_267" id="FNanchor_267"></a><a href="#Footnote_267" class="fnanchor">[267]</a>, in the -dignity of Doge of Venice, are allegorized -by Castor and Pollux<a name="FNanchor_268" id="FNanchor_268"></a><a href="#Footnote_268" class="fnanchor">[268]</a>; one of whom, as -the fable tells us, gave the other part of -that immortality which Jupiter had conferred -on him alone. Pollux, in the allegory, -presents his brother, represented by -a skull, with a circling snake, as the symbol -of eternity; on the reverie of a fictitious -coin, beneath the described figures, -there drops a broken branch from a tree, -with the Virgilian inscription,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Primo avulso non deficit alter.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Another idea on one of Lewis XIVth’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -coins, is as worthy of notice; being struck<a name="FNanchor_269" id="FNanchor_269"></a><a href="#Footnote_269" class="fnanchor">[269]</a> -on occasion of the Duke of Lorrain’s quiting -his dominions, after the surrender of -Marsal, for having betrayed both the French -and Austrian courts. The Duke is Proteus -overcome by the arts of Menelaus, and -bound, after having, in vain, tried all his -different forms. At a distance the conquered -citadel is to be seen, and the year -of its surrender marked in the inscription. -There was no occasion for the superfluous -epigraph: <i>Protei Artes delusæ</i>.</p> - -<p>Patience, or rather a longing earnest desire<a name="FNanchor_270" id="FNanchor_270"></a><a href="#Footnote_270" class="fnanchor">[270]</a>, -represented by a female figure, with -folded hands, gazing on a watch, is a very -good image of the lower class. It must indeed -be owned, that the inventors of the -most picturesque allegories have contented -themselves with the remains of antiquity; -none having been authorised to establish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -images of their own fancy, for the general -imitation of the artists. Neither has any -attempt of latter times deferred the honour: -for in the whole Iconology of Ripa, of two -or three that are tolerable ones,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Nantes in gurgite vasto</i>;</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">an Ethiopian washing himself, as an allusion -to labour lost<a name="FNanchor_271" id="FNanchor_271"></a><a href="#Footnote_271" class="fnanchor">[271]</a>, is perhaps the best. There -are indeed images, and useful hints, dispersed -in some books of greater note, (as for instance, -The Temple of Stupidity in the Spectator<a name="FNanchor_272" id="FNanchor_272"></a><a href="#Footnote_272" class="fnanchor">[272]</a>,) -which ought to be collected, and -made more general. Thus, were the treasures -of science joined to those of art, the -time might come, when a painter would be -able to represent an ode, as well as a tragedy.</p> - -<p>I shall myself submit to the publick some -images: for rules instruct, but examples -still more. Friendship, I find every where<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -pitifully represented, and its emblems are -not worth mentioning: their flying scribbled -labels shew us the depth of their inventors.</p> - -<p>This noblest of human virtues I would -paint in the figures of those two immortal -friends of heroic times, Theseus and Pirithous. -The head of the former is said to -be on gems<a name="FNanchor_273" id="FNanchor_273"></a><a href="#Footnote_273" class="fnanchor">[273]</a>: he likewise appears with the -club<a name="FNanchor_274" id="FNanchor_274"></a><a href="#Footnote_274" class="fnanchor">[274]</a> won from Periphetes, a son of Vulcan, -on a gem of Philemon. Theseus consequently -might be drawn with some resemblance. -Friendship, at the brink of -danger, might be taken from the idea of an -old picture at Delphos, as described by Pausanias<a name="FNanchor_275" id="FNanchor_275"></a><a href="#Footnote_275" class="fnanchor">[275]</a>. -Theseus was painted in the action -of defending himself and his friend against -the Thesprotians, with his own sword in -one hand, and another drawn from the side -of his friend, in the other. The beginning -of their friendship, as described by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> -Plutarch<a name="FNanchor_276" id="FNanchor_276"></a><a href="#Footnote_276" class="fnanchor">[276]</a>, might also be an image of that idea. -I am astonished not to have met, among -the emblems of the great men of the Barbarigo-family, -with an image of a good -man and eternal friend. Such was Nicolas -Barbarigo, who contracted with Marco Trivisano -a friendship worthy of immortality;</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Monumentum ære perennius</i>:</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">a little rare treatise alone has preserved their -memory<a name="FNanchor_277" id="FNanchor_277"></a><a href="#Footnote_277" class="fnanchor">[277]</a>.</p> - -<p>A little hint of Plutarch’s might furnish -an image of Ambition: he mentions<a name="FNanchor_278" id="FNanchor_278"></a><a href="#Footnote_278" class="fnanchor">[278]</a> the -sacrifices of Honour, as being performed -bareheaded, whereas all other sacrifices, save -only those of Saturn<a name="FNanchor_279" id="FNanchor_279"></a><a href="#Footnote_279" class="fnanchor">[279]</a>, were offered with covered -heads. This custom he believes to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -have taken its rise from the usual salutation -in society; though it may as well be <i>vice -versa</i>: perhaps it sprung from the Pelasgian -rites<a name="FNanchor_280" id="FNanchor_280"></a><a href="#Footnote_280" class="fnanchor">[280]</a>, which were performed bareheaded. -Honour is likewise represented by a female -figure, crowned with laurels, a <i>Cornucopia</i> -and <i>Hasta</i> in her hands<a name="FNanchor_281" id="FNanchor_281"></a><a href="#Footnote_281" class="fnanchor">[281]</a>. Accompanied by -Virtue, a male figure with a helmet, she is -to be found on a coin of Vitellius<a name="FNanchor_282" id="FNanchor_282"></a><a href="#Footnote_282" class="fnanchor">[282]</a>: and the -heads of both on those of Gordian and -Galien<a name="FNanchor_283" id="FNanchor_283"></a><a href="#Footnote_283" class="fnanchor">[283]</a>.</p> - -<p>Prayers might be personified from an idea -of Homer. Phœnix, the tutor of Achilles, -endeavouring to reconcile him to the Greeks, -makes use of an allegory. “Know Achilles, -says he, that prayers are the daughters -of Zeus<a name="FNanchor_284" id="FNanchor_284"></a><a href="#Footnote_284" class="fnanchor">[284]</a>; they are bent with kneeling; -their faces sorrowful and wrinkled, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -eyes lifted up to heaven. They follow -Ate; who, with a bold and haughty -mien marches on, and, light of foot as -she is, runs over all the world, to seize -and torment mankind; for ever endeavouring -to escape the Prayers, who incessantly -press upon her footsteps, in order -to heal those whom she hath hurt. Whoever -honours these daughters of Zeus, on -their approach, may obtain much good -from them; but meeting with repulse, -they pray their fire to punish by Ate the -hard-hearted wretch.”</p> - -<p>The following well-known old fable might -also furnish a new image. Salmacis, and -the youth beloved by her, were changed to -a fountain, unmanning to such a degree, -that</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Quisquis in hos fontes vir venerit, exeat inde</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Semivir: & tactis subito mollescat in undis,</i></div> -<div class="attr">Ovid. Metam. L. IV.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">The fountain was near Halicarnassus in Caria. -Vitruvius<a name="FNanchor_285" id="FNanchor_285"></a><a href="#Footnote_285" class="fnanchor">[285]</a> thought he had discovered -the truth of that fiction: some inhabitants -of Argos and Trœzene, says he, going thither -with a mind to settle, dispossessed the Carians -and Leleges; who, sheltering themselves -among the mountains, began to harass -the Greeks with their excursions: but -one of the inhabitants having discovered -some particular qualities in that fountain, -erected a building near it, for the convenience -of those who had a mind to make -use of its water. Greeks and Barbarians -mingled there; and these at length, accustomed -to the Greek civility, lost their -savageness, and were insensibly moulded -into another nature. The fable itself is -well known to the artists: but the narrative -of Vitruvius might instruct them how to -draw the allegory of a people taught humanity -and civilised, like the Russians by Peter<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -the First. The fable of Orpheus might -serve the same purpose. Expression only -must decide the choice.</p> - -<p>Supposing the above general observations -upon allegory insufficient to evince its necessity -in painting, the examples will at least -demonstrate, that painting reaches beyond -the senses.</p> - -<p>The two chief performances in allegorical -painting, mentioned in my treatise, viz. -the Luxemburg gallery, and the cupola of -the Imperial Library at Vienna, may shew -how poetical, how happy an use their authors -made of allegory.</p> - -<p>Rubens proposing to paint Henry IV. -as a humane victor, with lenity and goodness -prevailing, even in the punishment of -unnatural rebels, and treacherous banditti, -represents him as Jupiter ordering the gods -to overthrow and punish the vices: Apollo -and Minerva let fly their darts upon them, -and the vices, hideous monsters, in a tumultuous -uproar tumble over each other:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -Mars, entering in a fury, threatens total -destruction; but Venus, image of celestial -love, gently lays hold of his arm:—you -fancy you hear her blandishing petition to -the <i>mailed</i> god: “rage not with cruel revenge -against the vices—they are punished.”</p> - -<p>The whole performance of Daniel Gran<a name="FNanchor_286" id="FNanchor_286"></a><a href="#Footnote_286" class="fnanchor">[286]</a> -is an allegory, relative to the Imperial Library, -and all its figures are as the branches -of one single tree. ’Tis a painted Epopee, -not beginning from the eggs of Leda; but, -as Homer chiefly rehearses the anger of -Achilles, this immortalizes only the Emperor’s -care of the sciences. The preparations -for the building of the library are represented -in the following manner:</p> - -<p>Imperial majesty appears as a lady fitting, -her head sumptuously dressed, and on her -breast a golden heart, as a symbol of the -Emperor’s generosity. With her sceptre the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -gives the summons to the builders; at her -feet sits a genius with an angle, palette, and -chissel; another hovers over her with the -figures of the Graces, as symbols of that -good taste which prevailed in the whole. -Next to the chief figure sits general Liberality, -with a purse in her hand; below -her a genius, with the table of the Roman -Congiarius, and behind her the Austrian -Liberality, her mantle embroidered with -larks. Several Genii gather the treasures -that flow from her Cornucopia, in order to -distribute them among the votaries of the -arts and sciences, chiefly those, whose good -offices to the library had entitled them to -regard. The execution of the Imperial orders -personified, directs her face to the commanding -figure, and three children present -the model of the house. Next her an old -man, the image of Experience, measures -on a table the plan of the building, a genius -standing beneath him with a plummet, -as ready to begin. Next the old man sits<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -Invention, with a statue of Isis in her right, -and a book in her left hand, signifying, that -Nature and Science are the fathers of Invention, -the puzzling schemes of which are represented -by a Sphinx lying before her.</p> - -<p>This performance was compared to the -great platfond of Le Moine at Versailles, -with an eye to the newest productions of -France and Germany alone: for the great -gallery of the same palace, painted by -Charles le Brun, is, without doubt, the -sublimest performance of poetick painting, -since the time of Rubens; and being possessed -of this, as well as of the gallery of -Luxemburg, France may boast of the two -most learned allegorical performances.</p> - -<p>The gallery of Le Brun contains the history -of Louis XIV. from the Pyrenæan -peace, to that of Nimeguen, in nine large, -and eighteen smaller pieces: that in which -the King determines war against Holland, -contains, in itself alone, an ingenious and -sublime application of almost the whole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -mythology<a name="FNanchor_287" id="FNanchor_287"></a><a href="#Footnote_287" class="fnanchor">[287]</a>: its beauties are too exuberant -for this treatise; let the artist’s ideas be -judged only by two of the smaller compositions. -He represents the famous passage -over the Rhine: his hero sits in a chariot, -a thunderbolt in his hand, and Hercules, -the image of heroism, drives him through -the midst of tempestuous waves. The figure -representing Spain is borne down by the current: -the river god, aghast, lets fall his -oar: the victories, approaching on rapid -wings, present shields, marked with the -names of the towns conquered after the -passage. Europa astonished beholds the -scene.</p> - -<p>Another represents the conclusion of the -peace. Holland, though with-held by the -Imperial Eagle, snatching her robe, runs to -meet peace, descending from heaven, surrounded -by the Genii of gaiety and pleasure, -scattering flowers all around her. Vanity,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -crowned with peacocks feathers; endeavours -to with-hold Spain and Germany from following -their associate: but perceiving the -cavern where arms are forged for France -and Holland, and hearing same threatening -in the skies, they likewise follow her example. -Is not the former of these two performances -comparable, in sublimity, to the -Neptune of Homer, and the strides of his -immortal horses?</p> - -<p>But let examples be never so striking, -allegory will still have adversaries: they -rose in times of old, against that of Homer -himself. There are people of too delicate -a conscience, to bear truth and fiction in -one piece: they are scandalized at a poor -river-god in some sacred story. Poussin -met with their reproaches, for personifying -the Nile in his Moses<a name="FNanchor_288" id="FNanchor_288"></a><a href="#Footnote_288" class="fnanchor">[288]</a>. A still stronger<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -party has declared against the obscurity of -allegory; for which they censured, and still -continue to censure, Le Brun. But who is -there so little experienced as not to know, -that perspicuity and obscurity depend often -upon time and circumstances? When Phidias -first added a tortoise<a name="FNanchor_289" id="FNanchor_289"></a><a href="#Footnote_289" class="fnanchor">[289]</a> to his Venus, ’tis -likely that few were acquainted with his -design in it, and bold was the artist who -first dared to fetter her: time, however, -made the meaning as clear as the figures -themselves. Allegory, as Plato says<a name="FNanchor_290" id="FNanchor_290"></a><a href="#Footnote_290" class="fnanchor">[290]</a> of -poetry in general, has something enigmatick -in itself, and is not calculated for the bulk -of mankind. And should the painter, from -the fear of being obscure, adapt his performance -to the capacity of those, who look -upon a picture as upon a tumultuous mob, -he might as well check every new and extraordinary -idea. The design of the famous -Fred. Barocci, in his Martyrdom of St. Vitalis,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> -by drawing a little girl alluring a -magpye with a cherry, must have been very -mysterious to many; the cherry<a name="FNanchor_291" id="FNanchor_291"></a><a href="#Footnote_291" class="fnanchor">[291]</a> alluding -to the season, in which that saint suffered.</p> - -<p>The painting of the greater machines, -and of the larger parts of publick buildings, -palaces, &c. ought to be allegorical. Grandeur -is relative to grandeur; and heroick -actions are not to be sung in elegiack strains. -But is every fiction allegorical in every place? -The Venetian Doge might as well pretend -to enjoy his superiority in <i>Terra firma</i>. I -am mistaken if the Farnesian gallery is to -be ranked among the allegorical performances. -Nevertheless Annibal, perhaps not -having it in his power to choose his subject, -may have been too roughly used in my treatise: -it is known that the Duke of Orleans<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> -desired Coypel to paint in his gallery the -history of Æneas<a name="FNanchor_292" id="FNanchor_292"></a><a href="#Footnote_292" class="fnanchor">[292]</a>.</p> - -<p>The Neptune of Rubens<a name="FNanchor_293" id="FNanchor_293"></a><a href="#Footnote_293" class="fnanchor">[293]</a>, in the gallery -at Dresden, painted on purpose to adorn the -magnificent entry of the Infant Ferdinand -of Spain into Antwerp, as governor of the -Netherlands, was there, on a triumphal -arch, allegorical<a name="FNanchor_294" id="FNanchor_294"></a><a href="#Footnote_294" class="fnanchor">[294]</a>. The god of the ocean -frowning his waves into peace, was a poetick -image of the Princes escaping the -storm, and arriving safe at Genoa. But -now he is nothing more than the Neptune -of Virgil.</p> - -<p>Vasari, when pretending to find allegory -in the Athenian school of Raphael<a name="FNanchor_295" id="FNanchor_295"></a><a href="#Footnote_295" class="fnanchor">[295]</a>, <i>viz.</i> -a companion of philosophy and astronomy -with theology, seems to have required, and, -by the common opinion of his time, to -have been authorised to require something<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> -grand and above the vulgar, in the decorations -of a grand apartment: though indeed -there be nothing but what is obvious at first -look, and that is, a representation of the -Athenian academy<a name="FNanchor_296" id="FNanchor_296"></a><a href="#Footnote_296" class="fnanchor">[296]</a>.</p> - -<p>But in ancient times, there was no story -in a temple, that was not, at the same time, -allegorical; allegory being closely interwoven -with mythology: the gods of Homer, -says an ancient, are the most lively images -of the different powers of the universe; shadows -of elevated ideas: and the gallantries of -Jupiter and Juno, in the platfond of a temple -of that goddess at Samos, were looked -on as such; air being represented by Jupiter, -and earth by Juno<a name="FNanchor_297" id="FNanchor_297"></a><a href="#Footnote_297" class="fnanchor">[297]</a>.</p> - -<p>Here I think it incumbent upon me to -clear up what I have said concerning the -contradictions in the character of the Athenians, -as represented by Parrhasius. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> -you think an easy matter; the painter having -done it either in the historical way, or -in several pictures: which latter is absurd. -Has not there been even a statue of that -people, done by Leochares, as well as a -temple<a name="FNanchor_298" id="FNanchor_298"></a><a href="#Footnote_298" class="fnanchor">[298]</a>? The composition of the picture -in question, has still eluded all probable conjectures<a name="FNanchor_299" id="FNanchor_299"></a><a href="#Footnote_299" class="fnanchor">[299]</a>; -and the help of allegory having -been called in, has produced nothing but -Tesoro’s<a name="FNanchor_300" id="FNanchor_300"></a><a href="#Footnote_300" class="fnanchor">[300]</a> ghastly phantoms. This fatal -picture of Parrhasius, I am afraid, will of -itself be a perpetual instance of the superior -skill of the ancients in allegory.</p> - -<p>What has been said already of allegory, -in general, contains likewise what remarks -may be made upon its being applied to decorations; -nevertheless as you insist upon -that point particularly, I shall lightly mention -it too.</p> - -<p>There are two chief laws in decoration,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -viz. to adorn suitably to the nature of things -and places, and with truth; and not to follow -an arbitrary fancy.</p> - -<p>The first, as it concerns the artists in general, -and dictates to them the adjusting of -things in such a manner, as to make them -relative to each other, claims especially a -strict propriety in decorations:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">——<i>Non ut placidis coeant immitia</i>—</div> -<div class="attr">Hor.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">The sacred shall not be mixed with the -profane, nor the terrible with the sublime: -this was the reason for rejecting the sheeps-heads<a name="FNanchor_301" id="FNanchor_301"></a><a href="#Footnote_301" class="fnanchor">[301]</a>, -in the Doric Metopes, at the chapel -of the palace of Luxemburg at Paris.</p> - -<p>The second law excludes licentiousness; -nay circumscribes the architect and decorator -within much narrower limits than the -painter; who sometimes must, in spite of -reason, subject his own fancy, and Greece, to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -fashion, even in history-pieces: but publick -buildings, and such works as are made -for futurity, claim decorations that will outlast -the whims of fashion; like those that, -by their dignity and superior excellence, bore -down the attacks of many a century: otherwise -they fade away, grow insipid and out -of fashion, perhaps before the finishing of -the very work to which they are added.</p> - -<p>The former law directs the artist to allegory: -the latter to the imitation of antiquity; -and this concerns chiefly the smaller -decorations.</p> - -<p>Such I call those that make not up of -themselves a whole, or those that are additional -to the larger ones. The ancients never -applied shells, when not required by the -fable; as in the case of Venus and the Tritons; -or by the place, as in the temples of -Neptune: and lamps decked with shells<a name="FNanchor_302" id="FNanchor_302"></a><a href="#Footnote_302" class="fnanchor">[302]</a> -are supposed to have made part of the implements -of those temples. For the same reason<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -they may give lustre; and be very significant, -in proper places; as in the festoons -of the Stadthouse at Amsterdam<a name="FNanchor_303" id="FNanchor_303"></a><a href="#Footnote_303" class="fnanchor">[303]</a>.</p> - -<p>Sheep and ox-heads stripped of their skin, -so far from justifying a promiscuous use of -shells, as the author seems inclined to think, -are plain arguments to the contrary: for they -not only were relative to the ancient sacrifices, -but were thought to be endowed with -a power of averting lightning<a name="FNanchor_304" id="FNanchor_304"></a><a href="#Footnote_304" class="fnanchor">[304]</a>; and Numa -pretended to have been secretly instructed -about them by Jupiter<a name="FNanchor_305" id="FNanchor_305"></a><a href="#Footnote_305" class="fnanchor">[305]</a>. Nor can the Corinthian -capital serve for an instance of a -seemingly absurd ornament, authorised and -rendered fashionable by time alone: for it -seems of an origin more natural and reasonable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> -than Vitruvius makes it; which is, -however, an enquiry more adapted to a -treatise on architecture. Pocock believed -that the Corinthian order had not much -reputation in the time of Pericles, who -built a temple to Minerva: but he should -have been reminded, that the Doric order -belonged to the temples of that goddess, as -Vitruvius informs us<a name="FNanchor_306" id="FNanchor_306"></a><a href="#Footnote_306" class="fnanchor">[306]</a>.</p> - -<p>These decorations ought to be treated like -architecture in general, which owes its grandeur -to simplicity, to a system of few parts, -which being not complex themselves, branch -out into grace and splendour. Remember -here the channelled pillars of the temple of -Jupiter, at Agrigentum, (Girgenti now) which -were large enough to contain, in one single -gutter, a man at full length<a name="FNanchor_307" id="FNanchor_307"></a><a href="#Footnote_307" class="fnanchor">[307]</a>. In the same -manner these decorations must not only be -few, but those must likewise consist of few<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -parts, which are to appear with an air of -grandeur and ease.</p> - -<p>The first law (to return to allegory) -might be lengthened out into many a subaltern -rule: but the nature of things and -circumstances is, and ever must be, the artist’s -first aim; as for examples, refutation -promises rather more instruction than authority.</p> - -<p>Arion riding on his dolphin, as unmeaningly -represented upon a Sopra-porta, in a -new treatise on architecture<a name="FNanchor_308" id="FNanchor_308"></a><a href="#Footnote_308" class="fnanchor">[308]</a>, though a significant -image in the apartments of a French -Dauphin, would be a very poor one in any -place where Philanthropy, or the protection -of artists like him, could not immediately -be hinted at. On the contrary, he would -even to this day, though without his lyre, -be an ornament to any publick building at -Tarentum, because the ancient Tarentines, -stamped on their coins the image of Taras,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -one of the sons of Neptune, riding on a -dolphin, on a supposition of his being their -first founder.</p> - -<p>The allegorical decorations of a building, -raised by the contributions of a whole -nation, I mean the Duke of Marlborough’s -palace at Blenheim, are absurd: enormous -lions of massy stone, above two portals, -tearing to pieces a little cock<a name="FNanchor_309" id="FNanchor_309"></a><a href="#Footnote_309" class="fnanchor">[309]</a>. The hint -sprung from a poor pun.</p> - -<p>Nor can it be denied that antiquity furnishes -some ideas seemingly analogous to -this: as for instance, the lioness on the -tomb of Leæna, the mistress of Aristogiton, -raised in honour of her constancy amidst the -torments applied by the tyrant, in order to -extort from her a confession of the conspirators -against him. But from this, I am -afraid, nothing can arise in behalf of the -above pitiful decoration: that mistress of -the martyr of liberty having been a notorious -woman, and whose name could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -not decently stand a publick trial. Of the -same nature are the lizards and frogs on a -temple<a name="FNanchor_310" id="FNanchor_310"></a><a href="#Footnote_310" class="fnanchor">[310]</a>, alluding to the names of the two -architects, Saurus and Batrachus<a name="FNanchor_311" id="FNanchor_311"></a><a href="#Footnote_311" class="fnanchor">[311]</a>: the above-mentioned -lioness having no tongue, -made the allegory still more expressive. The -lioness on the tomb of the famous Lais<a name="FNanchor_312" id="FNanchor_312"></a><a href="#Footnote_312" class="fnanchor">[312]</a>, -holding with her fore-paws a ram, as a -symbol of her manners<a name="FNanchor_313" id="FNanchor_313"></a><a href="#Footnote_313" class="fnanchor">[313]</a>, was perhaps an -imitation of the former. The lion was, in -general, set upon the tombs of the brave.</p> - -<p>It is not indeed to be pretended that every -ornament and image of the ancient vases, -tools, &c. should be allegorical; and to explain -many of them, in that way, would be -equally difficult and conjectural. I am not -bold enough to maintain, that an earthen -lamp<a name="FNanchor_314" id="FNanchor_314"></a><a href="#Footnote_314" class="fnanchor">[314]</a>, in the shape of an ox’s-head, means a -perpetual remembrance of useful labours, on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -account of the perpetuity of the fire; nor to -decypher here a mysterious sacrifice to Pluto -and Proserpine<a name="FNanchor_315" id="FNanchor_315"></a><a href="#Footnote_315" class="fnanchor">[315]</a>. But the image of a Trojan -Prince, carried off by Jupiter, to be his -favourite, was of great and honourable signification -in the mantle of a Trojan. Birds -pecking grapes seem as suitable to an urn, -as the young Bacchus brought by Mercury -to be nursed by Leucothea, on a large marble -vase of the Athenian Salpion<a name="FNanchor_316" id="FNanchor_316"></a><a href="#Footnote_316" class="fnanchor">[316]</a>. The -grapes may be a symbol of the pleasures the -deceased enjoy in Elysium: the pleasures -of hereafter being commonly supposed to be -such; as the deceased chiefly delighted in -when alive. A bird, I need not say, was -the image of the soul. A Sphinx, on a -cup sacred to Bacchus, is supposed to be an -allusion to the adventures of Oedipus at -Thebes, Bacchus’s birth place<a name="FNanchor_317" id="FNanchor_317"></a><a href="#Footnote_317" class="fnanchor">[317]</a>; as a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -Lizard on a cup of Mentor, may hint -at the possessor, whose name perhaps was -Saurus.</p> - -<p>There is some reason to search for allegory, -in most of the ancient performances, -when we consider, that they even built allegorically. -Such an allusive building was -a gallery at Olympia<a name="FNanchor_318" id="FNanchor_318"></a><a href="#Footnote_318" class="fnanchor">[318]</a>, sacred to the seven -liberal arts, and re-echoing seven times a -poem read aloud there. A temple of Mercury, -supported, instead of pillars, by -Herms, or, as we now spell, Terms, on -a coin of Aurelian<a name="FNanchor_319" id="FNanchor_319"></a><a href="#Footnote_319" class="fnanchor">[319]</a>, is of the same kind: -there is on its front a dog, a cock, and a -tongue; figures that want no explication.</p> - -<p>Yet the temple of Virtue and Honour, -built by Marcellus, was still more learnedly -executed: having consecrated his Sicilian -spoils to that purpose, he was disappointed -by the priests, whom he first consulted on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -that design; who told him, that no single -temple could admit of two divinities. Marcellus -therefore ordered two temples to be -built, adjoining to each other, in such a -manner that whoever would be admitted to -that of Honour must pass through that of -Virtue<a name="FNanchor_320" id="FNanchor_320"></a><a href="#Footnote_320" class="fnanchor">[320]</a>; thus publickly indicating, that virtue -alone leads to true honour: this temple -was near the Porta Capena<a name="FNanchor_321" id="FNanchor_321"></a><a href="#Footnote_321" class="fnanchor">[321]</a>. And here -I cannot help remembering those hollow -statues of ugly satyrs<a name="FNanchor_322" id="FNanchor_322"></a><a href="#Footnote_322" class="fnanchor">[322]</a>, which, when opened, -were found replete with little figures of the -graces, to teach, that no judgment is to be -formed from outward appearances, and that -a fair mind makes amends for a homely -body.</p> - -<p>Perhaps, Sir, some of your objections may -have been omitted: if so, it was against my -will——and at this instant, I remember one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -concerning the Greek art of changing blue -eyes to black ones. Dioscorides is the only -writer that mentions it<a name="FNanchor_323" id="FNanchor_323"></a><a href="#Footnote_323" class="fnanchor">[323]</a>. Attempts of this -kind have been made in our days: a certain -Silesian countess was the favourite beauty -of the age, and universally acknowledged -to be perfect, had it not been for her blue -eyes, which some of her admirers wished -were black. The lady, informed of the -wishes of her adorers, by repeated endeavours -overcame nature; her eyes became -black,—and she blind.</p> - -<p>I am not satisfied with myself, nor perhaps -have given you satisfaction: but the -art is inexhaustible, and all cannot be written. -I only wanted to amuse myself agreeably -at my leisure hours; and the conversation -of my friend <span class="smcap">Frederic Oeser</span>, a true -imitator of Aristides, the painter of the soul, -was not a little favourable to my purpose: -the name of which worthy friend and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> -artist<a name="FNanchor_324" id="FNanchor_324"></a><a href="#Footnote_324" class="fnanchor">[324]</a> shall spread a lustre over the end of -my treatise.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span></p> - -<h2>INSTRUCTIONS<br /> -<span class="smaller">FOR THE</span><br /> -CONNOISSEUR.</h2> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">——<i>Non, si quid turbida <span class="smcap">Roma</span></i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Elevet, accedas: examenve improbum in illa</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Castiges trutina: nec te quæsiveris extra.</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Nam Romæ est Quis non?</i>——</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">You call yourself a <i>Connoisseur</i>, and the -first thing you gaze at, in considering -works of art, is the workmanship, the delicacy -of the pencilling, or the polish given -by the chissel.——It was the idea however, -its grandeur or meanness, its dignity, -fitness, or unfitness, that ought first -to have been examined: for industry and -talents are independent of each other. A -piece of painting or sculpture cannot, merely -on account of its having been laboured,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> -claim more merit than a book of the same -sort. To work curiously, and with unnecessary -refinements, is as little the mark of -a great artist, as to write learnedly is that -of a great author. An image anxiously -finished, in every minute trifle, may be fitly -compared to a treatise crammed with quotations -of books, that perhaps were never -read. Remember this, and you will not -be amazed at the laurel leaves of <i>Bernini</i>’s -Apollo and Daphne, nor at the net held -by <i>Adams</i>’s statue of water at Potzdam: you -will only be convinced that workmanship is -not the standard which distinguishes the antique -from the modern.</p> - -<p>Be attentive to discover whether an artist -had ideas of his own, or only copied those -of others; whether he knew the chief aim -of all art, Beauty, or blundered through the -dirt of vulgar forms; whether he performed -like a man, or played only like a child.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> - -<p>Books may be written, and works of art -executed, at a very small expence of ideas. -A painter may mechanically paint a Madonna, -and please; and a professor, in the -same manner, may write Metaphysics to the -admiration of a thousand students. But -would you know whether an artist deserves -his name, let him invent, let him do the same -thing repeatedly: for as one feature, may -modify a mien, so, by changing the attitude -of one limb, the artist may give a new -hint towards a characteristic distinction of two -figures, in other respects exactly the same, -and prove himself a man. Plato, in <i>Raphael</i>’s -Athenian school, but slightly moves -his finger: yet he means enough, and infinitely -more than all <i>Zucchari</i>’s meteors. -For as it requires more ability to say much -in a few words, than to do the contrary; and -as good sense delights rather in things than -shews, it follows, that one single figure may -be the theatre of all an artist’s skill: though, -by all that is stale and trivial! the bulk of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -painters would think it as tyrannical to be -sometimes confined to two or three figures, -in great only, as the ephemeral writers of -this age would grin at the proposal of beginning -the world with their own private -stock, all public hobby-horses laid aside: -for fine cloaths make the beau. ’Tis hence -that most young artists,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Enfranchis’d from their tutor’s care</i>,</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">choose rather to make their entrance with -some perplexed composition, than with one -figure strongly fancied and masterly executed. -But let him, who, content to please -the few, wants not to earn either bread or -applause from a gaping mob, let him remember -that the management of a “<i>little</i>” -more or less really distinguishes artist from -artist; that the truly sensible produces a -multiplicity, as well as quickness and delicacy -of feelings, whilst the dashing quack tickles -only feeble senses and callous organs; that -he may consequently be great in single<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -figures, in, the smallest compositions, and -new and various in repeating things the most -trite. Here I speak out of the mouth of -the ancients: this, their works teach: and -both our writers and painters would come -nearer them, did not the one busy themselves -with their words only, the other with -their proportions.</p> - -<p>In the face of Apollo pride exerts itself -chiefly in the chin and nether lip; anger -in the nostrils; and contempt in the opening -mouth; the graces inhabit the rest of -his divine, head, and unruffled beauty, like -the sun, streams athwart the passions. In -Laocoon you see bodily pains, and indignation -at undeserved sufferings, twist the nose, -and paternal sympathy dim the eye-balls. -Strokes like these are, as in Homer, a whole -idea in one word; he only finds them who -is able to understand them. Take it for -certain, that the ancients aimed at expressing -much in little,</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Their ore was rich, and seven times purg’d of lead</i>:</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">whereas most moderns, like tradesmen in -distress, hang out all their wares at once. -Homer, by raising all the gods from their -seats, on Apollo’s appearing amongst them<a name="FNanchor_325" id="FNanchor_325"></a><a href="#Footnote_325" class="fnanchor">[325]</a>, -gives a sublimer idea than all the learning of -Callimachus could furnish. If ever a prejudice -may be of use, ’tis here; hope largely -from the ancient works in approaching them, -nor fear disappointments; but examine, peruse, -with cool sedateness and silenced passions, -lest your disturbed brain find Xenophon -flat and Niobe insipid.</p> - -<p>To original ideas, we oppose copied, not -imitated ones. Copying we call the slavish -crawling of the hand and eyes, after a certain -model: whereas reasonable imitation -just takes the hint, in order to work by itself. -<i>Domenichino</i>, the painter of Tenderness, -imitated the heads of the pretended<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> -Alexander at Florence, and of the Niobe at -Rome<a name="FNanchor_326" id="FNanchor_326"></a><a href="#Footnote_326" class="fnanchor">[326]</a>; but altered them like a master. -On gems and coins you may find many a -figure of <i>Poussin</i>’s: his Salomon is the Macedonian -Jupiter: but whatever his imitation -produced, differs from the first idea, as -the blossoms of a transplanted tree differ -from those that sprung in its native soil.</p> - -<p>Another method of copying is, to compile -a Madonna from <i>Maratta</i>; a S. Joseph -from <i>Barocci</i>; other figures from other masters, -and lump them together in order to -make a whole. Many such altar-pieces -you may find, even at Rome; and such a -painter was the late celebrated <i>Masucci</i> of -that city.——Copying I call, moreover, the -following a certain form, without the least -consciousness of one’s being a blockhead. -Such was he who, by the command of -a certain Prince, painted the nuptials of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -Psyche, or, if you will, the Queen of Sheba:—’twas -a pity there was no other Psyche to be -found, but that dangerous one of <i>Raphael</i>. -Most of the late great statues of the saints, -in St. Peter’s at Rome, are of the same stuff—the -block at 500 Roman crowns from -the quarry.</p> - -<p>The second characteristic of works of art -is Beauty. The highest object of meditation -for man is man, and for the artist -there is none above his own frame. ’Tis by -moving your senses that he reaches your -soul: and hence the analysis of the bodily -system has no less difficulties for him, than -that of the human mind for the philosopher. -I do not mean the anatomy of the -muscles, vessels, bones, and their different -forms and situations; nor the relative measure -of the whole to its parts, and <i>vice -versa</i>: for the knife, exercise, and patience, -may teach you all these. I mean the analysis -of an attribute, essential to man, but -fluctuating with his frame, allowed by all,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> -misconstrued by many, known by few:—the -analysis of beauty, which no definition -can explain, to him whom heaven hath denied -a soul for it. Beauty consists in the -harmony of the various parts of an individual. -This is the philosopher’s stone, -which all artists must search for, though a -few only find it: ’tis nonsense to him, -who could not have formed the idea out -of himself. The line which beauty describes -is elliptical, both uniform and various: ’tis not -to be described by a circle, and from every -point changes its direction. All this is easily -said; but to apply it—<i>there is the rub</i>. -’Tis not in the power of Algebra to determine -which line, more or less elliptic, forms the -divers parts of the system into beauty—but -the ancients knew it; I attest their works, -from the gods down to their vases. The human -form allows of no circle, nor has any -antique vase its profile semicircular.</p> - -<p>After this, should any one desire me to -assist him more sensibly in his inquiries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -concerning beauty, by setting down some -rules (a hard task), I would take them from -the antique models, and in want of these, -from the most beautiful people I could meet -with at the place where I lived. But to instruct, -I would do it in the negative way; -of which I shall give some instances, confining -myself however to the face.</p> - -<p>The form of real beauty has no abrupt -or broken parts. The ancients made this -principle the basis of their youthful profile; -which is neither linear nor whimsical, -though seldom to be met with in nature: -the growth, at least, of climates more indulgent -than ours. It consists in the soft -coalescence of the brow with the nose. -This uniting line so indispensably accompanies -beauty, that a person wanting it may -appear handsome full-faced; but mean, nay -even ugly, when taken in profile. <i>Bernini</i>, -that destroyer of art, despised this line, -when legislator of taste, as not finding it<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> -in common nature, his only model; and -therein was followed by all his school. -From this same principle it necessarily follows, -that neither chin nor cheeks, deep-marked -with dimples, can be consistent with -true beauty. Hence the face of the Medicean -Venus is to be degraded from the first -rank. Her face, I dare say, was taken -from some celebrated fair one, contemporary -with the artist. Two other Venuses, -in the garden behind the Farnese, are manifestly -portraits.</p> - -<p>The form of real beauty has neither the -projected parts obtuse, nor the vaulted ones -sharp. The eye-bone is magnificently raised, -the chin thoroughly vaulted. Thus -the best ancients drew: though, when taste -declined amongst them, and the arts were -trampled on in modern times, these parts -changed too: then the eye-bone became -roundish and obtusely dull, and the chin -mincingly pretty. Hence we may safely -affirm, that what they call Antinous, in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> -Belvedere, whose eye-bone is rather obtuse, -cannot be a work of the highest antiquity, -any more than the Venus.</p> - -<p>As these remarks are general, they likewise -concern the features of the face, the -form only. There is another charm, that -gives expression and life to forms, which -we call Grace; and we shall give some loose -reflexions on it separately, leaving it to -others to give us systems.</p> - -<p>The figure of a man is as susceptible of -beauty as that of a youth: but as a various -one, not the various alone, is the -Gordian knot, it follows, that a youthful -figure, drawn at large, and in the highest -possible degree of beauty, is, of all problems -that can be proposed to the designer, -the most difficult. Every one may convince -himself of this: take the most beautiful -face in modern painting, and it will go -hard, but you shall know a still more -beautiful one in nature.——I speak thus, after<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -having considered the treasures of Rome -and Florence.</p> - -<p>If ever an artist was endowed with beauty, -and deep innate feelings for it; if ever -one was versed in the taste and spirit of the -ancients, ’twas certainly <i>Raphael</i>: yet are -his beauties inferior to the most beautiful -nature. I know persons more beautiful than -his unequalled Madonna, in the <i>Palazzo -Petti</i> at Florence, or the Alcibiades in his -academy. The Madonna in the Christmas-night -of <i>Corregio</i>, (a piece justly celebrated -for its chiar’-oscuro) is no sublime idea; -still less so is that of <i>Maratta</i> at Dresden: -<i>Titian</i>’s celebrated Venus<a name="FNanchor_327" id="FNanchor_327"></a><a href="#Footnote_327" class="fnanchor">[327]</a> in the Tribuna<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -at Florence is common nature. The little -heads of <i>Albano</i> have an air of beauty; but -it is a different thing to express beauty in -little, and in great. To have the theory of -navigation, and to guide a ship through the -ocean, are two things. <i>Poussin</i>, who had -studied antiquity more than his predecessors, -knew perfectly well what his shoulders -could bear, and never ventured into the -great.</p> - -<p>The Greeks alone seem to have thrown -forth beauty, as a potter makes his pot. -The heads on all the coins of their Free-states -have forms above nature, which they -owe to the line that forms their profile. -Would it not be easy to hit that line? Yet -have all the numismatic compilers deviated -from it. Might not <i>Raphael</i>, who complained -of the scarcity of beauty, might not -he have recurred to the coins of Syracuse, as -the best statues, Laocoon alone excepted, -were not yet discovered?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span></p> - -<p>Farther than those coins no mortal idea <i>can</i> -go. I wish my reader an opportunity of -seeing the beautiful head of a genius in the -Villa Borghese, and those images of unparalleled -beauty, Niobe and her daughters. -On the western side of the Alps he must be -contented with gems and pastes. Two of -the most beautiful youthful heads are a Minerva -of Aspasius, now at Vienna, and a -young Hercules in the Museum of the late -Baron Stosch, at Florence.</p> - -<p>But let no man, who has not formed his -taste upon antiquity, take it into his head -to act the connoisseur of beauty: his ideas -must be a parcel of whims. Of modern -beauties I know none that could vie with -the Greek female dancer of Mr. <i>Mengs</i>, -big as life, painted in <i>Crayons</i> on wood, for -the Marquis Croimare at Paris, or with his -Apollo amidst the muses, in the Villa Albano, -to whom that of <i>Guido</i> in the Aurora, -compared, is but a mortal.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span></p> - -<p>All the modern copies of ancient gems -give us another proof of the decisive authority -of beauty in criticisms on works of art. -<i>Natter</i> has dared to copy that head of Minerva -mentioned above, in the same size and -smaller, but fell short. The nose is a hair -too big, the chin too flat, and the mouth -mean. And this is the case of modern -imitators in general. What can we hope -then of self-fancied beauties? Conclude not, -however, from this, against the possibility -of a perfect imitation of antique heads: -’tis enough to say, that it has not yet existed: -’twas probably the fault of the imitators -themselves. <i>Natter</i>’s treatise on ancient -gems is rather shallow; and what he -wrought and wrote, even on that single -branch of engraving, for which he was -chiefly celebrated, has neither the strength -nor the ease of genius.</p> - -<p>To this consciousness of inferiority we owe -the scarcity of modern supposititious gems<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> -and coins. Any man of taste may, upon -comparison, distinguish even the best modern -coin from the antique original.—I speak -of the best antiques: for as to the lower -Imperial coins, where the cheat was easier, -the artists have been liberal enough. <i>Padoano</i>’s -stamps, for copying antique coins, -are in the Barberini Collection at Rome, and -those of one <i>Michel</i>, a Frenchman, and false -coiner in taste, at Florence, in that of the -late Baron Stosch.</p> - -<p>The third characteristic of works of art is -Execution; or, the sketch being made, the -method of finishing. And even here we -commend good sense above industry. As -in judging of styles, we distinguish the -good writer by the clearness, fluency, and -nervousness of his diction; so in works of -art, we discover the master by the manly -strength, freedom, and steadiness of his -hand. The august contour, and easiness -of mien, in the figures of Christ, St. Peter, -and the other apostles, on the right side of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -the Transfiguration, speak the classic hand -of <i>Raphael</i>, as strongly as the smooth, anxious -nicety of some of <i>Julio Romano</i>’s figures, -on the left, the more wavering one of the -disciple.</p> - -<p>Never admire either the marble’s radiant -polish, or the picture’s glossy surface. For -that the journeyman sweated; for this the -painter vegetated only. <i>Bernini</i>’s Apollo -is as polished as HE in the Belvedere; and -there is much more labour hid in one of -<i>Trevisani</i>’s Madonnas, than in that of <i>Corregio</i>. -Whenever trusty arms and laborious -industry prevail, we defy all the ancients. -We are not their inferiors even in managing -porphyry, though a mob of scriblers, with -<i>Clarencas</i> in their rear-guard, deny it.</p> - -<p>Nor (whatever <i>Maffei</i> thinks<a name="FNanchor_328" id="FNanchor_328"></a><a href="#Footnote_328" class="fnanchor">[328]</a>,) did the -ancients know a peculiar method of giving -a nicer polish to the figures of their concave -gems (<i>Intagli</i>.) Our artists polish as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> -nicely: but statues and gems may be detestable, -for all their polish, as a face may be -ugly, with the softest skin.</p> - -<p>This however is not meant to blame a -statue for its polish, as it is conducive to -beauty: though Laocoon informs us, that -the ancients knew the secret of finishing -statues, merely with the chissel. Nor does -the cleanness of the pencil, on a picture, -want its merit: yet it ought to be distinguished -from enamelled tints. A barked -statue, and a bristly picture are alike absurd. -Sketch with fire, and execute with phlegm. -We blame workmanship only as it claims -the first rank; as in the marbles <i>à la Bernini</i>, -and the linnen of <i>Scybold</i> and <i>Denner</i>.</p> - -<p>Friend, these instructions may be of use. -For as the bulk of mankind amuse themselves -with the shells of things only, your -eye may be captivated by polish and glare, -as they are the most obvious; to put you -on your guard against which, is leading you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -the first step to true knowledge. For daily -observation, during several years, in Italy, has -taught me how lamentably most young travellers -are duped by a set of blind leaders. -To see them skip about in the temple -of art and genius, all quite sober and cool, -puts me in mind of a swarm of new-fledged -grashoppers wantoning in the spring.</p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span></p> - -<h2><span class="smaller">ON</span><br /> -GRACE.</h2> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">——Χαριτων ἱμερο φωνων ἱερον φυτον.</div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="dropcap">Grace is the harmony of agent and -action. It is a general idea: for whatever -reasonably pleases in things and actions is -gracious. Grace is a gift of heaven; though -not like beauty, which must be born with -the possessor: whereas nature gives only the -dawn, the capability of this. Education -and reflection form it by degrees, and custom -may give it the sanction of nature. As water,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>That least of foreign principles partakes,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Is best:</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">So Grace is perfect when most simple, when -freest from finery, constraint, and affected -wit. Yet always to trace nature through -the vast realms of pleasure, or through all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -the windings of characters, and circumstances -infinitely various, seems to require -too pure and candid a taste for this age, -cloyed with pleasure, in its judgments either -partial, local, capricious, or incompetent. -Then let it suffice to say, that Grace can -never live where the passions rave; that -beauty and tranquillity of soul are the centre -of its powers. By this Cleopatra subdued -Cæsar; Anthony slighted Octavia and the -world for this; it breathes through every -line of Xenophon; Thucydides, it seems, -disdained its charms; to Grace Apelles and -Corregio owe immortality; but Michael -Angelo was blind to it; though all the remains -of ancient art, even those of but middling -merit, might have satisfied him, that -Grace alone places them above the reach of -modern skill.</p> - -<p>The criticisms on Grace in nature, and -on its imitation by art, seem to differ: for -many are not shocked at those faults in the -latter, that certainly would incur their displeasure<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> -in the former. This diversity of -feelings lies either in imitation itself, which -perhaps affects the more the less it is akin to -the thing imitated; or in the senses being -little exercised, and in the want of attention, -and of clear ideas of the objects in question. -But let us not from hence infer that Grace -is wholly fictitious: the human mind advances -by degrees; nor are youth, the prejudices -of education, boiling passions, and -their train of phantoms, the standard of its -real delight—remove some of these, and -it admires what it loathed, and spurns what -it doted on. Myriads, you say, the bulk of -mankind, have not even the least notion of -Grace—but what do they know of beauty, -taste, generosity, or all the higher luxuries -of the soul? These flowers of the human -mind were not intended for universal growth, -though their seeds lie in every breast.</p> - -<p>Grace, in works of art, concerns the -human figure only; it modifies the <i>attitude</i> -and <i>countenance</i>, <i>dress</i> and <i>drapery</i>. And<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> -here I must observe, that the following remarks -do not extend to the comic part of -art.</p> - -<p>The attitude and gestures of antique -figures are such as those have, who, conscious -of merit, claim attention as their due, -when appearing among men of sense. Their -motions always shew the motive; clear, pure -blood, and settled spirits; nor does it signify -whether they stand, sit, or lie; the attitudes -of Bacchanals only are violent, and -ought to be so.</p> - -<p>In quiet situations, when one leg alone -supports the other which is free, this recedes -only as far as nature requires for putting -the figure out of its perpendicular. Nay, -in the <i>Fauni</i>, the foot has been observed to -have an inflected direction, as a token of savage, -regardless nature. To the modern artists -a quiet attitude seemed insipid and spiritless, -and therefore they drag the leg at rest forwards, -and, to make the attitude ideal, remove -part of the body’s weight from the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -supporting leg, wring the trunk out of its -centre, and turn the head, like that of a -person suddenly dazzled with lightning. -Those to whom this is not clear, may please -to recollect some stage-knight, or a conceited -young Frenchman. Where room -allowed not of such an attitude, they, lest -unhappily the leg that has nothing to do -might be unemployed, put something elevated -under its foot, as if it were like that -of a man who could not speak without -setting his foot on a stool, or stand without -having a stone purposely put under it. The -ancients took such care of appearances, that -you will hardly find a figure with crossed -legs, if not a Bacchus, Paris, or Nireus; -and in these they mean to express effeminate -indolence.</p> - -<p>In the countenances of antique figures, -joy bursts not into laughter; ’tis only the -representation of inward pleasure. Through -the face of a Bacchanal peeps only the dawn -of luxury. In sorrow and anguish they resemble<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> -the sea, whose bottom is calm, -whilst the surface raves. Even in the utmost -pangs of nature, Niobe continues still -the heroine, who disdained yielding to Latona. -The ancients seem to have taken advantage -of that situation of the soul, in -which, struck dumb by an immensity of -pains, she borders upon insensibility; to express, -as it were, characters, independent of -particular actions; and to avoid scenes too -terrifying, too passionate, sometimes to paint -the dignity of minds subduing grief.</p> - -<p>Those of the moderns, that either were -ignorant of antiquity, or neglected to enquire -into Grace in nature, have expressed, -not only what nature feels, but likewise -what she feels not. A Venus at Potzdam, -by <i>Pigal</i><a name="FNanchor_329" id="FNanchor_329"></a><a href="#Footnote_329" class="fnanchor">[329]</a>, is represented in a sentiment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -which forces the liquor to flow out at both -sides of her mouth; seemingly gasping for -breath; for she was intended to pant with -lust: yet, by all that’s desperate! was this -very Pigal several years entertained at Rome -to study the antique. A <i>Carita</i> of <i>Bernini</i>, -on one of the papal monuments in St. Peter’s, -ought, you’ll think, to look upon her -children with benevolence and maternal -fondness; but her face is all a contradiction -to this: for the artist, instead of real graces, -applied to her his nostrum, dimples, by -which her fondness becomes a perfect sneer. -As for the expression of modern sorrow, -every one knows it, who has seen cuts, hair -torn, garments rent, quite the reverse of the -antique, which, like Hamlet’s,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">——<i>hath that within, which passeth shew:</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>These, but the trappings, and the suits of woe.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span></p> - -<p class="noindent">The gestures of the hands of antique figures, -and their attitudes in general, are those of -people that think themselves alone and unobserved: -and though the hands of but very -few statues have escaped destruction, yet may -you, from the direction of the arm, guess -at the easy and natural motion of the hand. -Some moderns, indeed, that have supplied -statues with hands or fingers, have too often -given them their own favourite attitudes—that -of a Venus at her toilet, displaying to -her levee the graces of a hand,</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">——<i>far lovelier when beheld.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">The action of modern hands is commonly -like the gesticulation of a young preacher, -piping-hot from the college. Holds a figure -her cloths? You would think them cobweb. -Nemesis, who, on antique gems, -lifts her peplum softly from her bosom, -would be thought too griping for any new -performance—how can you be so unpolite -to think any thing may be held, without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> -the three last fingers genteely stretched -forth?</p> - -<p>Grace, in the accidental parts of antiques, -consists, like that of the essential ones, in -what becomes nature. The drapery of the -most ancient works is easy and slight: hence -it was natural to give the folds beneath the -girdle an almost perpendicular direction.—Variety -indeed was sought, in proportion -to the increase of art; but drapery still remained -a thin floating texture, with folds -gathered up, not lumped together, or -indiscreetly scattered. That these were the -chief principles of ancient drapery, you -may convince yourself from the beautiful -Flora in the Campidoglio, a work of Hadrian’s -times. Bacchanals and dancing figures -had, indeed, even if statues, more -waving garments, such as played upon the -air; such a one is in the Palazzo Riccardi at -Florence; but even then the artists did not -neglect appearances, nor exceed the nature -of the materials. Gods and heroes are represented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -as the inhabitants of sacred places; -the dwellings of silent awe, not like a sport -for the winds, or as wafting the colours: -floating, airy garments are chiefly to be met -with on gems—where Atalanta flies</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>As meditation swift, swift as the thoughts of love.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">Grace extends to garments, as such were given -to the Graces by the ancients. How would -you wish to see the Graces dressed? Certainly -not in birth-day robes; but rather like a -beauty you loved, still warm from the bed, -in an easy negligée.</p> - -<p>The moderns, since the epoch of <i>Raphael</i> -and his school, seem to have forgot that -drapery participates of Grace, by their giving -the preference to heavy garments, which -might not improperly be called the wrappers -of ignorance in beauty: for a thick -large-folded drapery may spare the artists the -pains of tracing the Contour under it, as -the ancients did. Some of the modern<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> -figures seem to be made only for lasting. -<i>Bernini</i> and <i>Peter</i> of <i>Cortona</i> introduced -this drapery. For ourselves, we choose light -easy dresses; why do we grudge our figures -the same advantage?</p> - -<p>He that would give a History of Grace, -after the revolution of the arts, would perhaps -find himself almost reduced to negatives, -especially in sculpture.</p> - -<p>In sculpture, the imitation of one great -man, of <i>Michael Angelo</i>, has debauched the -artists from Grace. He, who valued himself -upon his being “a pure intelligence” -despised all that could please humanity; his -exalted learning disdained to stoop to tender -feelings and lovely grace.</p> - -<p>There are poems of his published, and -in manuscript, that abound in meditations -on sublime beauty: but you look in vain -for it in his works.—Beauty, even the beauty -of a God, wants Grace, and Moses, -without it, from awful as he was, becomes -only terrible. Immoderately fond of all that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> -was extraordinary and difficult, he soon -broke through the bounds of antiquity, -grace, and nature; and as he panted for -occasions of displaying skill only, he grew -extravagant. His lying statues, on the -ducal tombs of St. Lorenzo at Florence, -have attitudes, which life, undistorted, cannot -imitate: so careless was he, provided -he might dazzle you with his mazy learning, -of that decency, which nature and -the place required, that to him we might -apply, what a poet says of St. Lewis in -hell:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"><i>Laissant le vray pour prendre la grimace,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Il fut toujours au delà de la Grace,</i></div> -<div class="verse"><i>Et bien plus loin que les commandements.</i></div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="noindent">He was blindly imitated by his disciples, -and in them the want of Grace shocks -you still more: for as they were far his -inferiors in science, you have no equivalent -at all. How little <i>Guilielmo della<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> -Porta</i>, the best of them all, understood -grace and the antique, you may see in that -marble groupe, called the Farnese-bull; -where Dirce is his to the girdle. <i>John di -Bologna</i>, <i>Algardi</i>, <i>Fiammingo</i>, are great -names, but likewise inferior to the ancients, -in Grace.</p> - -<p>At last <i>Lorenzo Bernini</i> appeared, a man -of spirit and superior talents, but whom -Grace had never visited even in dreams. -He aimed at encyclopædy in art; painter, -architect, statuary, he struggled, chiefly as -such, to become original. In his eighteenth -year he produced his Apollo and Daphne; -a work miraculous for those years, and promising -that sculpture by him should attain -perfection. Soon after he made his David, -which fell short of Apollo. Proud of -general applause, and sensible of his impotency, -either to equal or to offuscate the -antiques; he seems, encouraged by the -dastardly taste of that age, to have formed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -the project of becoming a legislator in art, -for all ensuing ages, and he carried his -point. From that time the Graces entirely -forsook him: how could they abide with -a man who begun his career from the -end opposite to the ancients? His forms -he compiled from common nature, and -his ideas from the inhabitants of climates -unknown to him; for in Italy’s happiest -parts nature differs from his figures. He -was worshipped as the genius of art, and -universally imitated; for, in our days, statues -being erected to piety only, none to -wisdom, a statue <i>à la Bernini</i> is likelier -to make the kitchen prosper than a Laocoon.</p> - -<p>From Italy, reader, I leave you to -guess at other countries. A celebrated -<i>Puget</i>, <i>Girardon</i>, with all his brethren in -<i>On</i>, are worse. Judge of the connoisseurs -of France by <i>Watelet</i>, and of its designers, -by <i>Mariette</i>’s gems.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span></p> - -<p>At Athens the Graces stood eastward, -in a sacred place. Our artists should place -them over their work-houses; wear them -in their rings; seal with them; sacrifice -to them; and, court their sovereign charms -to their last breath.</p> - -<hr /> - -<div class="footnotes"> - -<h2>FOOTNOTES</h2> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1" id="Footnote_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> Plato in Timæo. Edit. Francof. p. 1044.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2" id="Footnote_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> In Timæum Platonis.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3" id="Footnote_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Vide Pindar. Olymp. Od. VII. Arg. & Schol.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4" id="Footnote_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> Some are of opinion, that the celebrated Ludovisian -gladiator, now in the great sallon of the capitol, -is this same whom Pliny mentions.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5" id="Footnote_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Vide Bellori Descriz delle Imagini dipinte da -Raffaelle d’Vrbino, &c. Roma. 1695 fol.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6" id="Footnote_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> Vide Stosch Pierres grav. pl. XXXIII.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7" id="Footnote_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> Baldinucci Vita del Cav. Bernini.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8" id="Footnote_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> Vide Stosch Pierres Grav. pl. XXIX. XXX.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9" id="Footnote_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> Vide Mus. Flor. T. II. t. V.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10" id="Footnote_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> Vide Zanetti Statue nell’ Antisala della libraria -di S. Marco. Venez. 1740. fol.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11" id="Footnote_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> Among the busts remarkable for that coarser -Drapery, we may reckon the beauteous Caracalla -in the royal cabinet at Dresden.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12" id="Footnote_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> Vide Wright’s Travels.</p> - -<p>The victorious St. Michael of Guido, treads on -the body of his antagonist, with all the precision of a -dancing-master. Webb’s Inquiry, &c.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13" id="Footnote_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> Vasari vite de Pittori, Scult. et Arch. edit. 1568. -Part III. p. 776.——“Quattro prigioni bozzati, -che possano insegnare à cavare de’ Marmi le figure -con un modo sicuro da non istorpiare i sassi, che -il modo è questo, che s’ e’ si pigliassi una figura di -cera ò d’ altra materia dura, e si metessi à giacere -in una conca d’ acqua, la quale acqua essendo per -la sua natura nella sua sommità piana et pari, alzando -la detta figura à poco del pari, cosi vengono -à scoprirsi prima le parti piu relevate e à -nascondersi i fondi, cioè le parti piu basse della -figura, tanto che nel fine ella cosi viene scoperta -tutta. Nel medesimo modo si debbono cavare con -lo scarpello le figure de’ Marmi, prima scoprendo -le parti piu rilevate, e di mano in mano le piu basse, -il quale modo si vede osservato da Michael Angelo -ne’ sopra detti prigioni, i quali sua Eccellenza -vuole, che servino per esempio de suoi Academici.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14" id="Footnote_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> Lettere d’alcuni Bolognesi, Vol. I. p. 159.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15" id="Footnote_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> Compare a description of a St. Sebastian of Beccafumi, -another of a Hercules and Antæus of Lanfranc, -&c. in Raguenet’s Monumens de Rome, -Paris, 12mo.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16" id="Footnote_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> Labat voyage en Espagne & en Ital. T. III. p. 213.——“Michel -Ange étoit aussi savant dans l’antiquité -que dans l’anatomie, la sculpture, la peinture, et -l’architecture; et puisqu’ il nous a representé Moyse -avec une si belle et si longue barbe, il est sûr, et -doit passer pour constant, que le prophete la portoit -ainsi; et par une consequence necessaire les -Juifs, qui pretendent le copier avec exactitude, et -qui font la plus grande partie de leur religion de -l’observance des usages qu’ il a laissé, doivent avoir -de la barbe comme lui, ou renoncer à la qualité -de Juifs.”</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17" id="Footnote_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> Apotheos. Homeri, p. 81, 82.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18" id="Footnote_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> Stosch Pierr. Grav. pl. XIX.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19" id="Footnote_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> Monum. Antiquit. p. 255.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20" id="Footnote_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> Puffendorf Rer. Suec. L. XX. §. 50. p. 796.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21" id="Footnote_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> Sandrart Acad. P. II. L. 2. c. 6. p. 118. Conf. -St. Gelais descr. des Tabl. du Palais Royal, p. 12. & seq.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22" id="Footnote_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> Plin. Hist. Nat. L. 35. c. 10.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23" id="Footnote_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> Lucian de Hist. Scrib.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24" id="Footnote_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> Strabo Geogr. L. VIII. p. 542.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25" id="Footnote_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> Vitruv. L. III. c. 1.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26" id="Footnote_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> Borell. de motu animal. P. I. c. 18. prop. 142. -p. 142. edit. Bernoull.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27" id="Footnote_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> Stosch. Pierr. Grav. pl. XXXV.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_28" id="Footnote_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> Stosch Pierr. Grav. pl. XXXV.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_29" id="Footnote_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> Mariette Pierr. Grav. T. II. n. 94.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_30" id="Footnote_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> Stosch Pierr. Grav. pl. LIV.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31" id="Footnote_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> Pausanias, L. VI. c. 7. p. 470.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32" id="Footnote_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> Dioscorid. de Re Medica, L. V. c. 179. Conf. -Salmas. Exercit. Plin. c. 15. p. 134. b.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33" id="Footnote_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> Aristoph. Nub. v. 1178. ibid. v. 1363. Et Scholiast.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34" id="Footnote_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> Observat. sur les arts, sur quelques morceaux de -peint. & sculpt. exposés au Louvre en 1748, p. 18.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35" id="Footnote_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> Riposo di Raffaello Borghini, L. I. p. 46.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_36" id="Footnote_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> See the Cupid by <span class="smcap">Solon</span>, Stosch. 64. the Cupid -leading the Lioness, by <span class="smcap">Sostratus</span>, Stosch. 66. and -a Child and Faun, by <span class="smcap">Axeochus</span>, Stosch 20.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_37" id="Footnote_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> Vide Bartoli Admiranda Rom. fol. 50, 51, 61. -Zanetti Stat. Antich. P. II. fol. 33.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_38" id="Footnote_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> Vide Callistrat. p. 903.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_39" id="Footnote_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> Vide Philostrati Heroic.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_40" id="Footnote_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> Vide Baldinucci vita del Caval. Bernin. p. 47.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_41" id="Footnote_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> Vide Baldinucci vita del Caval. Bernin. p. 72.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_42" id="Footnote_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> Trattato della pittura e scultura, uso et abuso -loro, composto da un theologo e da un pittore. Fiorenza, -1652. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_43" id="Footnote_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> Bellori vite de’ pittori, &c. p. 300.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_44" id="Footnote_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> Richardson, Tom. III. p. 94.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_45" id="Footnote_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> Xenophon Memorab. L. III. c. 6, 7.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_46" id="Footnote_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> Vide Baldinucci vita del Cav. Bernini, p. 66.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_47" id="Footnote_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> Plin. Hist. Nat. L. 35. c. 10.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_48" id="Footnote_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> Quintilian. Instit. Or. L. 12. c. 19.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_49" id="Footnote_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> Idyll. 18. v. 29.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_50" id="Footnote_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> De Pile’s Conversat. sur la peint.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_51" id="Footnote_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> Du Bos Refl. sur la poesie & sur la peint.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_52" id="Footnote_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> The Stratonice was twice painted by Lairesse. -The picture we talk of is the smallest of the two: the -figure is about one foot and a half, and differs from -the other in the disposition of the Parerga.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_53" id="Footnote_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> See Plutarch. in Demetr. & Lucian. de Dea -Syria.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_54" id="Footnote_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> Vide Lettre de Mr. Huet sur la Pourpre: dans les -Dissertat. de Tilladet. Tom. II. p. 169.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_55" id="Footnote_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> St. Real Cæsarion, T. II. Le Blanc Lettre sur -l’Expos. des Ouvrages de Peint, &c. 1747.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_56" id="Footnote_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> De Oratore, L. II. c. 21.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_57" id="Footnote_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> Aristot. Rhet. L. I. c. 1. §. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_58" id="Footnote_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> Xenophon Resp. Laced. c. 3. §. 5.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_59" id="Footnote_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> Origines Contra Cels. L. IV. p. 196. Edit. -Cantabr.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_60" id="Footnote_60"></a><a href="#FNanchor_60"><span class="label">[60]</span></a> Perrault sur Vitruve Explic. de la Planche IX. -p. 62.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_61" id="Footnote_61"></a><a href="#FNanchor_61"><span class="label">[61]</span></a> Dialog. Inconfus. p. 76.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_62" id="Footnote_62"></a><a href="#FNanchor_62"><span class="label">[62]</span></a> Horapoll. Hierogl. c. 33. Conf. Blackwell’s -Enq. into Hom. p. 170.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_63" id="Footnote_63"></a><a href="#FNanchor_63"><span class="label">[63]</span></a> De Re rust. præf. ad L. I. §. 32. p. 392. Edit. -Gesn.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_64" id="Footnote_64"></a><a href="#FNanchor_64"><span class="label">[64]</span></a> Vitruv. L. IV. c. 1.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_65" id="Footnote_65"></a><a href="#FNanchor_65"><span class="label">[65]</span></a> Travels, T. II.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_66" id="Footnote_66"></a><a href="#FNanchor_66"><span class="label">[66]</span></a> Plutarch. Numa. p. 149. L. 14. Edit. Bryani.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_67" id="Footnote_67"></a><a href="#FNanchor_67"><span class="label">[67]</span></a> Passerii Lucern.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_68" id="Footnote_68"></a><a href="#FNanchor_68"><span class="label">[68]</span></a> Menage Diction. Etymol. v. Barroque.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_69" id="Footnote_69"></a><a href="#FNanchor_69"><span class="label">[69]</span></a> Vide Desgodez Edifices antiq. de Rome, p. 91.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_70" id="Footnote_70"></a><a href="#FNanchor_70"><span class="label">[70]</span></a> Bartoli Sepolcri Antichi, p. 67. ibid. fig. 91.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_71" id="Footnote_71"></a><a href="#FNanchor_71"><span class="label">[71]</span></a> Perrault notes sur Vitruv. L. IV. ch. 2. n. 21. -p. 118.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_72" id="Footnote_72"></a><a href="#FNanchor_72"><span class="label">[72]</span></a> Martial, L. III. Ep. 41. 1.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_73" id="Footnote_73"></a><a href="#FNanchor_73"><span class="label">[73]</span></a> Bellori Sepolchri ant. f. 99.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_74" id="Footnote_74"></a><a href="#FNanchor_74"><span class="label">[74]</span></a> Virgil, Æn. V. v. 250. & seq.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_75" id="Footnote_75"></a><a href="#FNanchor_75"><span class="label">[75]</span></a> Pausanias, L. IX. c. 40. p. 794. Conf. Spanhem. -Not. sur les Cæesars de l’Emp. Julien. p. 240.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_76" id="Footnote_76"></a><a href="#FNanchor_76"><span class="label">[76]</span></a> Kircheri Oedip. Ægypt. T. III. p. 405, & 433.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_77" id="Footnote_77"></a><a href="#FNanchor_77"><span class="label">[77]</span></a> Bianchini Istor. Univ. p. 412.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_78" id="Footnote_78"></a><a href="#FNanchor_78"><span class="label">[78]</span></a> Nehem. Grew Musæum Societ. Reg. Lond. -1681. fol. p. 1.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_79" id="Footnote_79"></a><a href="#FNanchor_79"><span class="label">[79]</span></a> Vide Gabr. Bremond Viaggi nell’Egitto. Roma. -1579. 4. L. I. c. 15. p. 77.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_80" id="Footnote_80"></a><a href="#FNanchor_80"><span class="label">[80]</span></a> Clemens Alex. Strom. L. VI. p. 456.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_81" id="Footnote_81"></a><a href="#FNanchor_81"><span class="label">[81]</span></a> Shaw, Voyage, T. II. p. 123.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_82" id="Footnote_82"></a><a href="#FNanchor_82"><span class="label">[82]</span></a> Della Valle Viaggi. Lettr. 11. §. 9. p. 325. & -seq.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_83" id="Footnote_83"></a><a href="#FNanchor_83"><span class="label">[83]</span></a> Herodot. L. II. c. 36. Diod. Sic.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_84" id="Footnote_84"></a><a href="#FNanchor_84"><span class="label">[84]</span></a> Plutarch. de Isid. & Osirid. p. 374.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_85" id="Footnote_85"></a><a href="#FNanchor_85"><span class="label">[85]</span></a> Kircher Oed. I. c. ej. Prodrom. Copt. c. 7.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_86" id="Footnote_86"></a><a href="#FNanchor_86"><span class="label">[86]</span></a> Herodot. L. II. c. 153.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_87" id="Footnote_87"></a><a href="#FNanchor_87"><span class="label">[87]</span></a> Diogen. Laert. v. Democr.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_88" id="Footnote_88"></a><a href="#FNanchor_88"><span class="label">[88]</span></a> Diodor. Sic. L. I. c. 29. Edit. Wessel.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_89" id="Footnote_89"></a><a href="#FNanchor_89"><span class="label">[89]</span></a> Kircher Oedip. I. c.—it. ejusd. China illustrata. -III. c. 4. p. 151.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_90" id="Footnote_90"></a><a href="#FNanchor_90"><span class="label">[90]</span></a> Alberti Englische Briefe, B——.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_91" id="Footnote_91"></a><a href="#FNanchor_91"><span class="label">[91]</span></a> Clem. Alex. Strom. L. I. p. 354. Edit. Pott.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_92" id="Footnote_92"></a><a href="#FNanchor_92"><span class="label">[92]</span></a> Herodot. L. II. c. 61.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_93" id="Footnote_93"></a><a href="#FNanchor_93"><span class="label">[93]</span></a> Montfaucon Palæogr. Græc. L. III. c. 5. p. 230. -Kuhn. Not. ad Pausan. L. II. p. 128.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_94" id="Footnote_94"></a><a href="#FNanchor_94"><span class="label">[94]</span></a> Augustin. Gem. P. II. l. 32.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_95" id="Footnote_95"></a><a href="#FNanchor_95"><span class="label">[95]</span></a> Gruter. Corp. Inscr. p. DCCCLXI. ἐυτυχειτε, -χαιρετε, &c.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_96" id="Footnote_96"></a><a href="#FNanchor_96"><span class="label">[96]</span></a> Prideaux Marm. Oxon. 4. & 179.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_97" id="Footnote_97"></a><a href="#FNanchor_97"><span class="label">[97]</span></a> Demosth. Orat. pro Corona, p. 485, 499. Edit. -Frc. 1604.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_98" id="Footnote_98"></a><a href="#FNanchor_98"><span class="label">[98]</span></a> Gruter, Corp. Inscript. p. DCXLI. 8.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_99" id="Footnote_99"></a><a href="#FNanchor_99"><span class="label">[99]</span></a> Montfaucon Palæogr. L. IV. c. 10. p. 336, -338.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_100" id="Footnote_100"></a><a href="#FNanchor_100"><span class="label">[100]</span></a> Montf. L. I. c. 4. II. c. 6. p. 152.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_101" id="Footnote_101"></a><a href="#FNanchor_101"><span class="label">[101]</span></a> Herod. L. II.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_102" id="Footnote_102"></a><a href="#FNanchor_102"><span class="label">[102]</span></a> Descript. de l’Egypte, par Mascriere, Lettr. VII. -23.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_103" id="Footnote_103"></a><a href="#FNanchor_103"><span class="label">[103]</span></a> Descript. de l’Eg. L. c.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_104" id="Footnote_104"></a><a href="#FNanchor_104"><span class="label">[104]</span></a> Chishul. Inscr. Sig. p. 12.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_105" id="Footnote_105"></a><a href="#FNanchor_105"><span class="label">[105]</span></a> Kircher. Obelisc. Pamph. c. 8. p. 147.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_106" id="Footnote_106"></a><a href="#FNanchor_106"><span class="label">[106]</span></a> Cicero de Oratore, L. II. c. 37.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_107" id="Footnote_107"></a><a href="#FNanchor_107"><span class="label">[107]</span></a> The author was then preparing for a journey to -Rome.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_108" id="Footnote_108"></a><a href="#FNanchor_108"><span class="label">[108]</span></a> Argenville abregé de la V. d. P. T. II. p. 287.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_109" id="Footnote_109"></a><a href="#FNanchor_109"><span class="label">[109]</span></a> Reise, p. 21.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_110" id="Footnote_110"></a><a href="#FNanchor_110"><span class="label">[110]</span></a> Strabo, L. XIV. p. 652. al. 965. l. 11.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_111" id="Footnote_111"></a><a href="#FNanchor_111"><span class="label">[111]</span></a> Richardson Essay, &c. p. 38, 39.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_112" id="Footnote_112"></a><a href="#FNanchor_112"><span class="label">[112]</span></a> Diomedes, for ought I can see, is neither a -sitting nor a standing figure, in both which cases the -critick must be allowed to be just. He descends. -<i>Remark of the T. L.</i></p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_113" id="Footnote_113"></a><a href="#FNanchor_113"><span class="label">[113]</span></a> Cicero de Fato, c. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_114" id="Footnote_114"></a><a href="#FNanchor_114"><span class="label">[114]</span></a> Strabo, L. IV. p. 196. al. 299. l. 22.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_115" id="Footnote_115"></a><a href="#FNanchor_115"><span class="label">[115]</span></a> Misopog. p. 342. l. 13.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_116" id="Footnote_116"></a><a href="#FNanchor_116"><span class="label">[116]</span></a> Strabo, L. III. p. 158. al. 238.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_117" id="Footnote_117"></a><a href="#FNanchor_117"><span class="label">[117]</span></a> Du Bos Reflex. sur la Poesie et s. l. P. II. 144.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_118" id="Footnote_118"></a><a href="#FNanchor_118"><span class="label">[118]</span></a> Herodot. L. III. c. 106. Cicero ad Attic. L. VI. -cp. 2.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_119" id="Footnote_119"></a><a href="#FNanchor_119"><span class="label">[119]</span></a> Περὶ τοπων. p. 288. edit. Foesii. Galenus ὁτι -τα τῆς Ψυχῆς Ἠθη τοις του Σωματος κρασεσι ἑπεται. -fol. 171. B. I. 43. edit. Ald. T. I.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_120" id="Footnote_120"></a><a href="#FNanchor_120"><span class="label">[120]</span></a> Chardin voyage en Perse, T. II. p. 127. & seq.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_121" id="Footnote_121"></a><a href="#FNanchor_121"><span class="label">[121]</span></a> Journal des Sçavans l’An. 1684. Aur. p. 153.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_122" id="Footnote_122"></a><a href="#FNanchor_122"><span class="label">[122]</span></a> Apud Euseb. Præpar. Evang. L. V. c. 29. p. -226. edit. Colon.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_123" id="Footnote_123"></a><a href="#FNanchor_123"><span class="label">[123]</span></a> Plin. Hist. Nat. L. V. c. 8.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_124" id="Footnote_124"></a><a href="#FNanchor_124"><span class="label">[124]</span></a> Lahontan Memoir. T. II. p. 217. Cons. Wöldike -de ling. Grönland, p. 144, & seq. Act. Hafn. -T. II.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_125" id="Footnote_125"></a><a href="#FNanchor_125"><span class="label">[125]</span></a> Clarmont de Ære, Locis, & aquis Angliæ. Lond. -1672. 12.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_126" id="Footnote_126"></a><a href="#FNanchor_126"><span class="label">[126]</span></a> Wotton’s Reflex, upon ancient and modern -Learning, p. 4. Pope’s Letter to Mr. Walsh, -T. I. 74.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_127" id="Footnote_127"></a><a href="#FNanchor_127"><span class="label">[127]</span></a> Lakemacher Observ. Philolog. P. III. Observ. -IV. p. 250, &c.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_128" id="Footnote_128"></a><a href="#FNanchor_128"><span class="label">[128]</span></a></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">Th’ impatient weapon whizzes on the wing;</div> -<div class="verse">Sounds the tough horn, and twangs the quiv’ring string, &c.</div> -<div class="attr"><span class="smcap">Pope.</span></div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_129" id="Footnote_129"></a><a href="#FNanchor_129"><span class="label">[129]</span></a> Longin. Περι ὑψ. Sect. 13. §. 1.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_130" id="Footnote_130"></a><a href="#FNanchor_130"><span class="label">[130]</span></a> Odyss. λ. v. 71. Conf. Iliad, Γ. v. 363. & Eustath. -ad h. l. p. 424. L. 10. edit. Rom.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_131" id="Footnote_131"></a><a href="#FNanchor_131"><span class="label">[131]</span></a> Gregor. Thaumat. Orat. Paneg. ad Origen. 49.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_132" id="Footnote_132"></a><a href="#FNanchor_132"><span class="label">[132]</span></a> Aristoph. Ran. v. 1485.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_133" id="Footnote_133"></a><a href="#FNanchor_133"><span class="label">[133]</span></a> Athen. Deipnos. L. XII. c. 13. Ælian, V. H. -I. ix. 14.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_134" id="Footnote_134"></a><a href="#FNanchor_134"><span class="label">[134]</span></a> Aristoph. Equit.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_135" id="Footnote_135"></a><a href="#FNanchor_135"><span class="label">[135]</span></a> Thucyd. L. II. c. 39.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_136" id="Footnote_136"></a><a href="#FNanchor_136"><span class="label">[136]</span></a> Horat. L. II. Ep. I. v. 244.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_137" id="Footnote_137"></a><a href="#FNanchor_137"><span class="label">[137]</span></a> Cicero de fato. c. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_138" id="Footnote_138"></a><a href="#FNanchor_138"><span class="label">[138]</span></a> Περι τοπων. p. 204.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_139" id="Footnote_139"></a><a href="#FNanchor_139"><span class="label">[139]</span></a> Cicero Orat. c. 8. Conf. Dicæarch, Geogr. edit. -H. Steph. c. 2. p. 16.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_140" id="Footnote_140"></a><a href="#FNanchor_140"><span class="label">[140]</span></a> Nubes, v. 1365.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_141" id="Footnote_141"></a><a href="#FNanchor_141"><span class="label">[141]</span></a> Schol. ad Aristoph. Nub. v. 1010.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_142" id="Footnote_142"></a><a href="#FNanchor_142"><span class="label">[142]</span></a> Plutarch, de Sera Numin. Vindicta, p. 563. 9.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_143" id="Footnote_143"></a><a href="#FNanchor_143"><span class="label">[143]</span></a> Cicero de Orat.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_144" id="Footnote_144"></a><a href="#FNanchor_144"><span class="label">[144]</span></a> Golzius, Tab. XIV. T. II.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_145" id="Footnote_145"></a><a href="#FNanchor_145"><span class="label">[145]</span></a> Diodorus Sic. L. XX. p. 763. al. 449.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_146" id="Footnote_146"></a><a href="#FNanchor_146"><span class="label">[146]</span></a> Stukely’s Itinerar. III. p. 32.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_147" id="Footnote_147"></a><a href="#FNanchor_147"><span class="label">[147]</span></a> Theophrast. Hist. Pl. L. IX. c. 16. p. 1131. -l. 7. ed. Amst. 1644. fol. Galen de Antidot. I. fol. -63. B. I. 28. Idem de Theriac. ad Pison. fol. 85. -A. I. 20.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_148" id="Footnote_148"></a><a href="#FNanchor_148"><span class="label">[148]</span></a> Tournefort Voyage, Lett. I. p. 10. edit. Amst.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_149" id="Footnote_149"></a><a href="#FNanchor_149"><span class="label">[149]</span></a> Belon. Observ. L. II. ch. 9. p. 151. a.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_150" id="Footnote_150"></a><a href="#FNanchor_150"><span class="label">[150]</span></a> Idem. L. III. ch. 34. p. 350. b. Corn. le Brun. -V. fol. p. 169.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_151" id="Footnote_151"></a><a href="#FNanchor_151"><span class="label">[151]</span></a> Dicæarch. Geogr. c. 1. p. 1.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_152" id="Footnote_152"></a><a href="#FNanchor_152"><span class="label">[152]</span></a> Voyage de Spon et Wheeler, T. II. p. 75, 76.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_153" id="Footnote_153"></a><a href="#FNanchor_153"><span class="label">[153]</span></a> Wheeler’s Journey into Greece, p. 347.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_154" id="Footnote_154"></a><a href="#FNanchor_154"><span class="label">[154]</span></a> Conf. Lysis, p. 499. Edit. Fref. 1602.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_155" id="Footnote_155"></a><a href="#FNanchor_155"><span class="label">[155]</span></a> De Republ.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_156" id="Footnote_156"></a><a href="#FNanchor_156"><span class="label">[156]</span></a> De Leg. L. VII. p. 892, l. 30-6. Conf. Petiti -Leg. att. p. 296. Maittaire Marm. Arund. p. 483. -Gronov. ad Plaut. Bacchid. v. Ante Solem Exorientem.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_157" id="Footnote_157"></a><a href="#FNanchor_157"><span class="label">[157]</span></a> Galen, de Simpl. Medic. Facult. L. II. c. 5. -fol. 9. A. Opp. Tom. II. Frontin. Stratag. L. I. c. 7.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_158" id="Footnote_158"></a><a href="#FNanchor_158"><span class="label">[158]</span></a> Lucian Gymn. p. 907. Opp. T. II. Edit. Reitz.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_159" id="Footnote_159"></a><a href="#FNanchor_159"><span class="label">[159]</span></a> Dion. Halic. A. R. c. 1. §. 6. de vi dicendi in -Demost. c. 29. Edit. Oxon.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_160" id="Footnote_160"></a><a href="#FNanchor_160"><span class="label">[160]</span></a> Ψ. v. 163.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_161" id="Footnote_161"></a><a href="#FNanchor_161"><span class="label">[161]</span></a> Numism. Imp. p. 160.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_162" id="Footnote_162"></a><a href="#FNanchor_162"><span class="label">[162]</span></a> Philostrat. Epist. 22. p. 922. Conf. Macrob. Sat. -L. V. c. 18. p. 357. Edit. Lond. 1694. 8. Hygin. -Sat. 12.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_163" id="Footnote_163"></a><a href="#FNanchor_163"><span class="label">[163]</span></a> Conf. Arbuthnot’s Tabl. of Anc. Coins, ch. 6. -p. 116.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_164" id="Footnote_164"></a><a href="#FNanchor_164"><span class="label">[164]</span></a> Thucyd. L. I. c. 6. Eustath. ad Iliad. Ψ. p. 1324. -l. 16.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_165" id="Footnote_165"></a><a href="#FNanchor_165"><span class="label">[165]</span></a> Cyrilli Hieros. Catech. Mystag. II. c. 2, 3, 4. -p. 284. ed. Thom. Miles, Oxon. 1703. fol. 305. -Vice Comitis Observ. de Antiq. Baptismi rit. L. IV. -c. 10. p. 286-89. Binghami Orig. Eccles. T. IV. -L. XI. c. 11. Godeau Hist. de l’Eglise, T. I. L. III. -p. 623.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_166" id="Footnote_166"></a><a href="#FNanchor_166"><span class="label">[166]</span></a> Lucian. Dial. Mort. X. §. 3.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_167" id="Footnote_167"></a><a href="#FNanchor_167"><span class="label">[167]</span></a> Idem. Navig. E. 2. p. 248.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_168" id="Footnote_168"></a><a href="#FNanchor_168"><span class="label">[168]</span></a> De la Chambre Discours; où il est prouvé que -les François font les plus capables de tous les peuples -de la perfection de l’éloquence, p. 15.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_169" id="Footnote_169"></a><a href="#FNanchor_169"><span class="label">[169]</span></a> Lucian, pro Imagin. p. 490. Edit. Reitz. T. II.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_170" id="Footnote_170"></a><a href="#FNanchor_170"><span class="label">[170]</span></a> Cic. Brut. c. 7. & 83.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_171" id="Footnote_171"></a><a href="#FNanchor_171"><span class="label">[171]</span></a> Considerations sur les Revolutions des Arts. -Paris, 1755, p. 33.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_172" id="Footnote_172"></a><a href="#FNanchor_172"><span class="label">[172]</span></a> Pagi. Discours sur l’Histoire Grecque, p. 45.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_173" id="Footnote_173"></a><a href="#FNanchor_173"><span class="label">[173]</span></a> Nouveau Voyage d’Hollande, de l’Allem., de -Suisse & d’Italie, par M. de Blainville.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_174" id="Footnote_174"></a><a href="#FNanchor_174"><span class="label">[174]</span></a> Richardson’s Account, &c. 294, 295.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_175" id="Footnote_175"></a><a href="#FNanchor_175"><span class="label">[175]</span></a> Chambray Idée de la Peint. p. 46. au Mans, -1662. 4to.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_176" id="Footnote_176"></a><a href="#FNanchor_176"><span class="label">[176]</span></a> Plin. Hist. Nat. L. XXXV. c. 10.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_177" id="Footnote_177"></a><a href="#FNanchor_177"><span class="label">[177]</span></a> (Durand) Extrait de l’Histoire de la Peint. de -Pline. p. 56.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_178" id="Footnote_178"></a><a href="#FNanchor_178"><span class="label">[178]</span></a> Observat. sur les Arts & sur quelques morceaux -de Peint. & de Sculpt. exposés au Louvre, 1748. -p. 65.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_179" id="Footnote_179"></a><a href="#FNanchor_179"><span class="label">[179]</span></a> Nouvelle Division de la Terre par les différentes -Espèces d’Hommes, &c. dans le Journ. des Sçav. -1704. Avr. 152.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_180" id="Footnote_180"></a><a href="#FNanchor_180"><span class="label">[180]</span></a> Plutarch. Vit. Æmil. p. 147. ed. Bryani. T. II.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_181" id="Footnote_181"></a><a href="#FNanchor_181"><span class="label">[181]</span></a> Lucian. Navig. S. Votum. c. 2. p. 249.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_182" id="Footnote_182"></a><a href="#FNanchor_182"><span class="label">[182]</span></a> Borghini Riposo, L. II. p. 129.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_183" id="Footnote_183"></a><a href="#FNanchor_183"><span class="label">[183]</span></a> Chambray Idée de la Peint. p. 47.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_184" id="Footnote_184"></a><a href="#FNanchor_184"><span class="label">[184]</span></a> Maxim. Tyr. Diss. 25. p. 303. Edit. Markl.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_185" id="Footnote_185"></a><a href="#FNanchor_185"><span class="label">[185]</span></a> Vide Spectator, N. 418.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_186" id="Footnote_186"></a><a href="#FNanchor_186"><span class="label">[186]</span></a> Philostrat. Icon. Anton. p. 91.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_187" id="Footnote_187"></a><a href="#FNanchor_187"><span class="label">[187]</span></a> Plutarch. Ant.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_188" id="Footnote_188"></a><a href="#FNanchor_188"><span class="label">[188]</span></a> Observat. sur les Arts, &c., p. 65.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_189" id="Footnote_189"></a><a href="#FNanchor_189"><span class="label">[189]</span></a> Quintil. L. IX. c. 14.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_190" id="Footnote_190"></a><a href="#FNanchor_190"><span class="label">[190]</span></a> Plutarch, Timoleon. P. 142.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_191" id="Footnote_191"></a><a href="#FNanchor_191"><span class="label">[191]</span></a> Plutarch. Adul. & Amici discrim. p. 53. D.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_192" id="Footnote_192"></a><a href="#FNanchor_192"><span class="label">[192]</span></a> Aristot. Rhet. L. I. c. 11. p. 61. Edit. Lond. -1619. 4to. Plato Phæd. p. 46. I. 44.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_193" id="Footnote_193"></a><a href="#FNanchor_193"><span class="label">[193]</span></a> Cicero Tusc. L. I. c. 28.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_194" id="Footnote_194"></a><a href="#FNanchor_194"><span class="label">[194]</span></a> Aristot. Poet. c. 28.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_195" id="Footnote_195"></a><a href="#FNanchor_195"><span class="label">[195]</span></a> Aristot. Rhet. III. c. 2. §. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_196" id="Footnote_196"></a><a href="#FNanchor_196"><span class="label">[196]</span></a> Herodot. L. II. c. 50.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_197" id="Footnote_197"></a><a href="#FNanchor_197"><span class="label">[197]</span></a> Herodot. L. II. c. 3. c. 47. Conf. L. II. c. 61. -Pausan. L. II. p. 71. l. 45. p. 114. l. 57. L. V. -p. 317. l. 6.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_198" id="Footnote_198"></a><a href="#FNanchor_198"><span class="label">[198]</span></a> Pausan. L. II. c. 17. p. 149. l. 24.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_199" id="Footnote_199"></a><a href="#FNanchor_199"><span class="label">[199]</span></a> Arrian. Epict. L. III. c. 21. p. 439. Edit. Upton.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_200" id="Footnote_200"></a><a href="#FNanchor_200"><span class="label">[200]</span></a> Plutarch, de Isid. & Osir. p. 355. Clem. Alex. -Strom. L. V. p. 657, 58. Edit. Potteri. Ælian. Hist. -Anim. L. 10. c. 15.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_201" id="Footnote_201"></a><a href="#FNanchor_201"><span class="label">[201]</span></a> Plut. L. C. p. 376. Androvand. de Quadr. -digit. Vivipar. L. III. p. 574.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_202" id="Footnote_202"></a><a href="#FNanchor_202"><span class="label">[202]</span></a> Strabo, L. XVI. p. 760. al. 1104.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_203" id="Footnote_203"></a><a href="#FNanchor_203"><span class="label">[203]</span></a> Pausan. L. III. p. 245. l. 21.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_204" id="Footnote_204"></a><a href="#FNanchor_204"><span class="label">[204]</span></a> Kircher Oedip. Æg. T. III. p. 64. Lucian. -Nav. 3 Vol. c. 1. Bayf. de re Nav. p. 130. edit. -Bas. 1537. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_205" id="Footnote_205"></a><a href="#FNanchor_205"><span class="label">[205]</span></a> Schaffer de re Nav. L. III. c. 3. p. 196. Passerii -Luc. T. II. tab. 93.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_206" id="Footnote_206"></a><a href="#FNanchor_206"><span class="label">[206]</span></a> Lactant. ad v. 253. L. VII. Thebaid.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_207" id="Footnote_207"></a><a href="#FNanchor_207"><span class="label">[207]</span></a> Beger. Thes. Palat. p. 234. Numism. Musell. -Reg. et Pop. T. 8.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_208" id="Footnote_208"></a><a href="#FNanchor_208"><span class="label">[208]</span></a> Haym. Tesoro Britt. T. I. p. 168.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_209" id="Footnote_209"></a><a href="#FNanchor_209"><span class="label">[209]</span></a> Ap. Philostr. Heroic. p. 693.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_210" id="Footnote_210"></a><a href="#FNanchor_210"><span class="label">[210]</span></a> Vaillant Num. Colon. Rom. T. II. p. 136. -Conf. Bianchini Istor. Unic. p. 74.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_211" id="Footnote_211"></a><a href="#FNanchor_211"><span class="label">[211]</span></a> Mus. Flor. T. I. Tab. 91. p. 175.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_212" id="Footnote_212"></a><a href="#FNanchor_212"><span class="label">[212]</span></a> Petron. Sat. c. 34.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_213" id="Footnote_213"></a><a href="#FNanchor_213"><span class="label">[213]</span></a> Spon. Miscell. Sect. I. Tab. 5.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_214" id="Footnote_214"></a><a href="#FNanchor_214"><span class="label">[214]</span></a> Kircher Oedip. T. III. p. 555. Cuper de Elephant. -Exercit. c. 3. p. 32.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_215" id="Footnote_215"></a><a href="#FNanchor_215"><span class="label">[215]</span></a> In Extremis Gadibus. v. Eustath. ad II. A. p. -744. l. 4. ad. Rom. Id. ad Dionys. Περιηγ. ad v. 453. -p. 84. Ed. Oxon. 1712.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_216" id="Footnote_216"></a><a href="#FNanchor_216"><span class="label">[216]</span></a> Kircher Oed. Æg. T. III. p. 555.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_217" id="Footnote_217"></a><a href="#FNanchor_217"><span class="label">[217]</span></a> Horapoll. Hierogl. L. II. c. 84.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_218" id="Footnote_218"></a><a href="#FNanchor_218"><span class="label">[218]</span></a> Cuper. l. c. Spanh. Diss. T. I, p. 169.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_219" id="Footnote_219"></a><a href="#FNanchor_219"><span class="label">[219]</span></a> Agost, Dialog. II. p. 68.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_220" id="Footnote_220"></a><a href="#FNanchor_220"><span class="label">[220]</span></a> Homer. ΟΔ. Ε., v. 121. Conf. Heraclid. Pontic. -de Allegoria Homeri. p. 492. Meurs. de funere. c. 7.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_221" id="Footnote_221"></a><a href="#FNanchor_221"><span class="label">[221]</span></a> Venuti Num. max. moduli. T. 25. Rom. 1739. -fol. Bellori Admir. fol. 30.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_222" id="Footnote_222"></a><a href="#FNanchor_222"><span class="label">[222]</span></a> Pausan. L. X. p. 806. l. 16.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_223" id="Footnote_223"></a><a href="#FNanchor_223"><span class="label">[223]</span></a> Licet. Gem. Anul. c. 48.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_224" id="Footnote_224"></a><a href="#FNanchor_224"><span class="label">[224]</span></a> Beger. Theo. Brand. T. 1. p. 182.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_225" id="Footnote_225"></a><a href="#FNanchor_225"><span class="label">[225]</span></a> Ibid. p. 281.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_226" id="Footnote_226"></a><a href="#FNanchor_226"><span class="label">[226]</span></a> Justin. L. XV. c. 4. p. 412. edit. Gronov.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_227" id="Footnote_227"></a><a href="#FNanchor_227"><span class="label">[227]</span></a> Spanh. Diss. T. I. p. 407.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_228" id="Footnote_228"></a><a href="#FNanchor_228"><span class="label">[228]</span></a> Ap. D. C. de Moezinsky.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_229" id="Footnote_229"></a><a href="#FNanchor_229"><span class="label">[229]</span></a> Paus. L. V. p. 447. l. 22.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_230" id="Footnote_230"></a><a href="#FNanchor_230"><span class="label">[230]</span></a> Ibid. L. 1. p. 52. l. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_231" id="Footnote_231"></a><a href="#FNanchor_231"><span class="label">[231]</span></a> Pausan. L. III. p. 245. l. 20. Morel Specim. -Rei. N. XII.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_232" id="Footnote_232"></a><a href="#FNanchor_232"><span class="label">[232]</span></a> Spanhem. Diss. T. I. p. 154.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_233" id="Footnote_233"></a><a href="#FNanchor_233"><span class="label">[233]</span></a> Spanhem. Obs. ad Juliani Imp. Orat. I. p. 282.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_234" id="Footnote_234"></a><a href="#FNanchor_234"><span class="label">[234]</span></a> Montfaucon Ant. expl. T. III.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_235" id="Footnote_235"></a><a href="#FNanchor_235"><span class="label">[235]</span></a> Morell. Specim. Rei Num. T. VIII. p. 92.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_236" id="Footnote_236"></a><a href="#FNanchor_236"><span class="label">[236]</span></a> Artemidor. Oneirocr. L. II. c. 49.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_237" id="Footnote_237"></a><a href="#FNanchor_237"><span class="label">[237]</span></a> Noct. Attic. L. XIV. c. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_238" id="Footnote_238"></a><a href="#FNanchor_238"><span class="label">[238]</span></a> Agost. Dialog. II. p. 45. Rom. 1650. fol.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_239" id="Footnote_239"></a><a href="#FNanchor_239"><span class="label">[239]</span></a> Tristan. Comm. hist. de l’Emp. T. I. p. 297.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_240" id="Footnote_240"></a><a href="#FNanchor_240"><span class="label">[240]</span></a> Numism. Musell. Imp. R. tab. 38.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_241" id="Footnote_241"></a><a href="#FNanchor_241"><span class="label">[241]</span></a> Ibid. Tab. II.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_242" id="Footnote_242"></a><a href="#FNanchor_242"><span class="label">[242]</span></a> Ibid. Tab. XXIX. Erisso Dichiaraz. di Medagl. -ant. P. II. p. 130.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_243" id="Footnote_243"></a><a href="#FNanchor_243"><span class="label">[243]</span></a> Plutarch Syll. p. 50, 51.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_244" id="Footnote_244"></a><a href="#FNanchor_244"><span class="label">[244]</span></a> Conf. Philostrat. Imag. p. 737.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_245" id="Footnote_245"></a><a href="#FNanchor_245"><span class="label">[245]</span></a> Plin. Hist. N. L. XVIII. c. 47. Agost. Dial. III. -p. 104.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_246" id="Footnote_246"></a><a href="#FNanchor_246"><span class="label">[246]</span></a> Gabriæ Fab. p. 169. in Æsop. Fab. Venet. -1709. 8.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_247" id="Footnote_247"></a><a href="#FNanchor_247"><span class="label">[247]</span></a> Pausan. L. I. c. 43. p. 105. L. 7.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_248" id="Footnote_248"></a><a href="#FNanchor_248"><span class="label">[248]</span></a> Plutarch. Sympos. L. IX. qu. 6.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_249" id="Footnote_249"></a><a href="#FNanchor_249"><span class="label">[249]</span></a> Vaillant Numism. Imp. T. II. p. 133.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_250" id="Footnote_250"></a><a href="#FNanchor_250"><span class="label">[250]</span></a> Plutarch. Vit. Thes. p. 26.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_251" id="Footnote_251"></a><a href="#FNanchor_251"><span class="label">[251]</span></a> Agost. Dial. II. p. 66, 67. Numism. Musell. -Imp. Rom. Tab. 115.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_252" id="Footnote_252"></a><a href="#FNanchor_252"><span class="label">[252]</span></a> Ripa Iconol. n. 87.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_253" id="Footnote_253"></a><a href="#FNanchor_253"><span class="label">[253]</span></a> Thesaur. de Arguta Dict.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_254" id="Footnote_254"></a><a href="#FNanchor_254"><span class="label">[254]</span></a> Numism. Musell. Imp. R. Tab. 107.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_255" id="Footnote_255"></a><a href="#FNanchor_255"><span class="label">[255]</span></a> Ibid. Tab. 106.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_256" id="Footnote_256"></a><a href="#FNanchor_256"><span class="label">[256]</span></a> Ibid. Tab. 105.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_257" id="Footnote_257"></a><a href="#FNanchor_257"><span class="label">[257]</span></a> Ripa Iconol. P. I. n. 53.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_258" id="Footnote_258"></a><a href="#FNanchor_258"><span class="label">[258]</span></a> Agost. Dial. II. p. 57. Numism. Musell. l. c. -Tab. 68.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_259" id="Footnote_259"></a><a href="#FNanchor_259"><span class="label">[259]</span></a> Agost. l. c.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_260" id="Footnote_260"></a><a href="#FNanchor_260"><span class="label">[260]</span></a> Ripa Ic. P. I. n. 135.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_261" id="Footnote_261"></a><a href="#FNanchor_261"><span class="label">[261]</span></a> Agost. Dial. II. p. 47.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_262" id="Footnote_262"></a><a href="#FNanchor_262"><span class="label">[262]</span></a> Ripa Iconol. P. I. n. 31.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_263" id="Footnote_263"></a><a href="#FNanchor_263"><span class="label">[263]</span></a> Ibid. P. I. n. 25.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_264" id="Footnote_264"></a><a href="#FNanchor_264"><span class="label">[264]</span></a> Vide Picinelli Mund. Symb.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_265" id="Footnote_265"></a><a href="#FNanchor_265"><span class="label">[265]</span></a> Shaw Voyag. T. I.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_266" id="Footnote_266"></a><a href="#FNanchor_266"><span class="label">[266]</span></a> Hayman Tesoro Brit. T. I. p. 219.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_267" id="Footnote_267"></a><a href="#FNanchor_267"><span class="label">[267]</span></a> Egnatius de exempl. illustr. Vir. Venet. L. V. -p. 133.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_268" id="Footnote_268"></a><a href="#FNanchor_268"><span class="label">[268]</span></a> Numism. Barbar. Gent. n. 37. Padova. 1732. -fol.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_269" id="Footnote_269"></a><a href="#FNanchor_269"><span class="label">[269]</span></a> Medailles de Louis le Grand, a. 1663. Paris 1702. -fol.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_270" id="Footnote_270"></a><a href="#FNanchor_270"><span class="label">[270]</span></a> Thesaur. de Argut. Dict.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_271" id="Footnote_271"></a><a href="#FNanchor_271"><span class="label">[271]</span></a> Ripa Iconol. P. II. p. 166.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_272" id="Footnote_272"></a><a href="#FNanchor_272"><span class="label">[272]</span></a> Spectator, Edit. 1724. Vol. II. p. 201.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_273" id="Footnote_273"></a><a href="#FNanchor_273"><span class="label">[273]</span></a> Canini Imag. des Heros. N. I.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_274" id="Footnote_274"></a><a href="#FNanchor_274"><span class="label">[274]</span></a> Stoch Pier. Grav. Pl. LI.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_275" id="Footnote_275"></a><a href="#FNanchor_275"><span class="label">[275]</span></a> Pausan. L. X. p. 870. 871.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_276" id="Footnote_276"></a><a href="#FNanchor_276"><span class="label">[276]</span></a> Vit. Thesei. p. 29.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_277" id="Footnote_277"></a><a href="#FNanchor_277"><span class="label">[277]</span></a> De Monstrosa Amicitia respectu perfectionis inter -Nic. Barbar. & Marc. Trivisan. Venet. apud Franc. -Baba. 1628. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_278" id="Footnote_278"></a><a href="#FNanchor_278"><span class="label">[278]</span></a> Vita Marcelli. Ortelii Capita Deor. L. II. -fig. 41.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_279" id="Footnote_279"></a><a href="#FNanchor_279"><span class="label">[279]</span></a> Thomasin. Donar. Vet. c. 5.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_280" id="Footnote_280"></a><a href="#FNanchor_280"><span class="label">[280]</span></a> Plutarch. Quæst. Rom. P. 266. F.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_281" id="Footnote_281"></a><a href="#FNanchor_281"><span class="label">[281]</span></a> Vulp. Latium. T. I. L. I. c. 27. p. 406.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_282" id="Footnote_282"></a><a href="#FNanchor_282"><span class="label">[282]</span></a> Agostin. Dialog. II. p. 81.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_283" id="Footnote_283"></a><a href="#FNanchor_283"><span class="label">[283]</span></a> Ibid. & Beger Obs. in Num. p. 56.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_284" id="Footnote_284"></a><a href="#FNanchor_284"><span class="label">[284]</span></a> Iliad, i. v. 498. Conf. Heraclides Pontic. de -Allegoria Homeri, p. 457, 58.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_285" id="Footnote_285"></a><a href="#FNanchor_285"><span class="label">[285]</span></a> Architect. L. II. c. 8.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_286" id="Footnote_286"></a><a href="#FNanchor_286"><span class="label">[286]</span></a> Vide Representatio Bibliothecæ Cesareæ Viennæ -1737. fol. obt.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_287" id="Footnote_287"></a><a href="#FNanchor_287"><span class="label">[287]</span></a> This piece is engraved by Simmoneau Senior -Cons. Lepicié Vies des p. P. de R. T. I. p. 64.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_288" id="Footnote_288"></a><a href="#FNanchor_288"><span class="label">[288]</span></a> Another representation of that story, and one of -Poussin’s best originals, is in the gallery of Dresden, -in which the river god is extremely advantageous to -the composition of the whole.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_289" id="Footnote_289"></a><a href="#FNanchor_289"><span class="label">[289]</span></a> Plin.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_290" id="Footnote_290"></a><a href="#FNanchor_290"><span class="label">[290]</span></a> Plato Alcibiad. II. P. 457. l. 30.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_291" id="Footnote_291"></a><a href="#FNanchor_291"><span class="label">[291]</span></a> Baldinucci, Notiz. de’ P. d. D. P. 118. Argenville -seems not to have understood the word, <i>Ciliegia</i>: -he saw that it should be a symbol of spring, -and changed the cherry to a butterfly; the chief -object of the picture he omits, and talks only of the -girl.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_292" id="Footnote_292"></a><a href="#FNanchor_292"><span class="label">[292]</span></a> Lepiciè Vies des P. R. P. II. p. 17, 18.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_293" id="Footnote_293"></a><a href="#FNanchor_293"><span class="label">[293]</span></a> Recueil d’Estamp. de la Gall. de Dresd. fol. 48.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_294" id="Footnote_294"></a><a href="#FNanchor_294"><span class="label">[294]</span></a> Pompa & Introitus Ferdinandi Hisp. Inf. p. 15. -Antv. 1641. fol.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_295" id="Footnote_295"></a><a href="#FNanchor_295"><span class="label">[295]</span></a> Vasari vite. P. III. Vol. I. p. 76.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_296" id="Footnote_296"></a><a href="#FNanchor_296"><span class="label">[296]</span></a> Chambray Idée de la P. p. 107, 108. Bellori -Descriz. delle Imagini dip. da Raffaello, &c.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_297" id="Footnote_297"></a><a href="#FNanchor_297"><span class="label">[297]</span></a> Heraclid. Pontic. de Allegoria Homeri, p. 443.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_298" id="Footnote_298"></a><a href="#FNanchor_298"><span class="label">[298]</span></a> Josephi Antiq. L. XIV. c. 8. Edit. Haverc.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_299" id="Footnote_299"></a><a href="#FNanchor_299"><span class="label">[299]</span></a> Dati vite de’ Pittori. p. 73.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_300" id="Footnote_300"></a><a href="#FNanchor_300"><span class="label">[300]</span></a> Thesaur. Idea Arg. Dict. C. III. p. 84.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_301" id="Footnote_301"></a><a href="#FNanchor_301"><span class="label">[301]</span></a> Blondel Maisons de Plaisance, T. II. p. 26.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_302" id="Footnote_302"></a><a href="#FNanchor_302"><span class="label">[302]</span></a> Passerii Lucernæ fict. Tab. 51.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_303" id="Footnote_303"></a><a href="#FNanchor_303"><span class="label">[303]</span></a> Quellinus Maison de la Ville d’Amst. 1655. fol.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_304" id="Footnote_304"></a><a href="#FNanchor_304"><span class="label">[304]</span></a> Arnob., adv. Gentes L. V. p. 157. Edit. Lugd. -1651. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_305" id="Footnote_305"></a><a href="#FNanchor_305"><span class="label">[305]</span></a> An ox-head on the reverse of an Attick gold -coin, stamped with the head of Hercules and his club, -is supposed to allude to his labours, (Haym. Tesoro -Britt. l. 182.) and to be, in general, a symbol of -strength, industry, or patience, (Hypnerotomachia -Polyphili. Venet. Ald. fol.)</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_306" id="Footnote_306"></a><a href="#FNanchor_306"><span class="label">[306]</span></a> Vitruv. L. I. c. 2.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_307" id="Footnote_307"></a><a href="#FNanchor_307"><span class="label">[307]</span></a> Diodor. Sic. L. XIII. p. 375. al. 507.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_308" id="Footnote_308"></a><a href="#FNanchor_308"><span class="label">[308]</span></a> Blondel Maisons de Plaisance.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_309" id="Footnote_309"></a><a href="#FNanchor_309"><span class="label">[309]</span></a> Vide Spectator, No. 51.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_310" id="Footnote_310"></a><a href="#FNanchor_310"><span class="label">[310]</span></a> Pausan. L. I. c. 43. l. 22.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_311" id="Footnote_311"></a><a href="#FNanchor_311"><span class="label">[311]</span></a> Plin. Hist. N. L. XXXVI. c. 5.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_312" id="Footnote_312"></a><a href="#FNanchor_312"><span class="label">[312]</span></a> Paus. L. II. c. 2. P. 115. l. 11.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_313" id="Footnote_313"></a><a href="#FNanchor_313"><span class="label">[313]</span></a> Idem. L. IX. c. 40. P. 795. l. 11.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_314" id="Footnote_314"></a><a href="#FNanchor_314"><span class="label">[314]</span></a> Aldrovand. de Quadrup. bisulc. p. 141.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_315" id="Footnote_315"></a><a href="#FNanchor_315"><span class="label">[315]</span></a> Bellori Lucern. Sepulcr. P. I. fig. 17.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_316" id="Footnote_316"></a><a href="#FNanchor_316"><span class="label">[316]</span></a> Spon. Misc. Sect. II. Art. I. P. 25.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_317" id="Footnote_317"></a><a href="#FNanchor_317"><span class="label">[317]</span></a> Vide Buonarotti Osserv. sopra alcuni Medagli. -Proem. p. XXVI. Roma. 1693. 4.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_318" id="Footnote_318"></a><a href="#FNanchor_318"><span class="label">[318]</span></a> Plutarch. de Garrulit. p. 502.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_319" id="Footnote_319"></a><a href="#FNanchor_319"><span class="label">[319]</span></a> Tristan Comment. Hist. des Emper. T. I. -p. 632.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_320" id="Footnote_320"></a><a href="#FNanchor_320"><span class="label">[320]</span></a> Plutarch. Marcell. p. 277.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_321" id="Footnote_321"></a><a href="#FNanchor_321"><span class="label">[321]</span></a> Vulpii Latium, T. II. L. II. c. 20. p. 175.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_322" id="Footnote_322"></a><a href="#FNanchor_322"><span class="label">[322]</span></a> Banier Mythol. T. II. L. I. ch. 11. p. 181.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_323" id="Footnote_323"></a><a href="#FNanchor_323"><span class="label">[323]</span></a> Dioscorid. de Re Med. L. V. c. 179.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_324" id="Footnote_324"></a><a href="#FNanchor_324"><span class="label">[324]</span></a> Fred. Oeser, one of the most extensive geniuses -which the present age can boast of, is a German, -and now lives at Dresden; where, to the honour -of his country, and the emolument of the art, he -gets his livelihood by teaching young blockheads, -of the Saxon-race, the elements of drawing; and by -etching after the Flemish painters. N. of Transl.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_325" id="Footnote_325"></a><a href="#FNanchor_325"><span class="label">[325]</span></a> Hymn. in Apoll.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_326" id="Footnote_326"></a><a href="#FNanchor_326"><span class="label">[326]</span></a> Alexander, in his S. John, in <i>St. Andrea della -Valle</i> at Rome; Niobe, in a picture belonging to the -<i>Tesoro di S. Gennaro</i>, at Naples.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_327" id="Footnote_327"></a><a href="#FNanchor_327"><span class="label">[327]</span></a> So are the goddesses of the Theopægnia at Blenheim, -in Oxfordshire; and hence it is clear, that -another Venus, analogous to that in the Tribuna, -among the pictures of a gentleman in London, cannot -be the production of that genius-in-flesh only. -This daughter of the Idalian graces seems to thrill -with inward pleasure, and to recollect a night of -bliss——</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse">There is language in her eye, her cheek, her lip:</div> -<div class="verse">Nay, her foot speaks——</div> -<div class="attr"><span class="smcap">Shakespear.</span></div> -</div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_328" id="Footnote_328"></a><a href="#FNanchor_328"><span class="label">[328]</span></a> Veron. illustr. P. III. c. 7. p. 269.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_329" id="Footnote_329"></a><a href="#FNanchor_329"><span class="label">[329]</span></a> “Et toi, rival des Praxiteles & des Phidias; toi -dont les anciens auroient employé le ciseau à leur -faire des dieux capables d’excuser à nos yeux leur -idolatrie; inimitable Pigal, ta main se résoudra a -vendre des magots, ou il faudra qu’elle demeure -oisive.” J. J. Rousseau Disc. sur le Retabl. -d. A. S. &c.</p> - -<p>This, my dear countryman! is the only passage of -thine, where posterity will find the orator forgot the -philosopher. N. of Tr.</p> - -</div> - -</div> - -<p class="titlepage">THE END.</p> - -<hr /> - -<h2>ERRATA.</h2> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p><a href="#Page_20">Page 20.</a> Line 13. <i>for</i> comma <i>after</i> says, <i>place</i> semi-colon.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_61">P. 61.</a> L. 7. <i>for</i> Morte <i>read</i> Morto.</p> - -<p><a href="#Footnote_26">P. 83. Note</a>, <i>for</i> Bernoue <i>read</i> Bernoull.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_94">P. 94.</a> L. 3. <i>after</i> Nature <i>add a</i> colon—<i>after</i> flat <i>add</i> it.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_105">P. 105.</a> L. 10. <i>dele</i> Lucian, Ep. I.</p> - -<p><a href="#Footnote_160">P. 166. Note f.</a> <i>instead of</i> ὈΔ. Τ. v. 230. <i>read</i> Ψ. v. 163.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_181">P. 181.</a> L. 13. <i>for</i> on <i>read</i> in.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_189">P. 189.</a> L. 20. <i>for</i> or <i>read</i> on.</p> - -<p><a href="#Footnote_206">P. 197. Note d.</a> <i>for</i> adv. <i>read</i> ad v.</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_227">P. 227.</a> L. 12. <i>for</i> the <i>read</i> her.</p> - -</div> - -<div class="transnote"> - -<h3>Transcriber’s Note</h3> - -<p>The errata have been corrected. The notes referenced above are, with the -new numbering in this e-text, notes <a href="#Footnote_26">26</a>, -<a href="#Footnote_160">160</a> and <a href="#Footnote_206">206</a>.</p> - -<p>List of other changes made to the text:</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p><a href="#Page_5">Page 5</a>, repeated “a” removed (Take a Spartan youth)</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_48">Page 48</a>, “hindred” changed to “hindered” (as much water as hindered)</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_62">Page 62</a>, “barenness” changed to “barrenness” (’Tis an abhorrence of -barrenness)</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_89">Page 89</a>, “celelebrated” changed to “celebrated” (his celebrated Carton of -the Pisan war)</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_174">Page 174</a>, “Parrhabasius” changed to “Parrhasius” (Parrhasius, compared -with himself)</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_187">Page 187</a>, “Rembrant” changed to “Rembrandt” (some pieces of Rembrandt and -Vandyke)</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_229">Page 229</a>, “born” changed to “borne” (Spain is borne down by the current)</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_259">Page 259</a>, repeated “a” removed (though a few only find it)</p> - -<p><a href="#Page_270">Page 270</a>, repeated “the” removed (in the temple of art and genius)</p> - -<p><a href="#Footnote_7">Footnote 7</a>, “Barnini” changed to “Bernini” (Vita del Cav. Bernini)</p> - -<p><a href="#Footnote_329">Footnote 329</a>, “si” changed to “sur” (Rousseau Disc. sur le Retabl. d. A. -S. &c.)</p> - -</div> - -<p>Archaic spellings remain as printed. Amendments to punctuation are -not otherwise noted.</p> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Reflections on the painting and -sculpture of the Greeks:, by Johann Joachim Winckelmann - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PAINTING, SCULPTURE OF THE GREEKS *** - -***** This file should be named 61317-h.htm or 61317-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/6/1/3/1/61317/ - -Produced by Turgut Dincer and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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