ANECDOTES OF PAINTERS, ENGRAVERS Sculptors and Architects, AND CURIOSITIES OF ART. 

 BY S. SPOONER, M. D. , AUTHOR OF "A BIOGRAPHICAL HISTORY OF THE FINE ARTS. "

 IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. II. 

 NEW YORK: R. WORTHINGTON, PUBLISHER, 770 Broadway. 

 COPYRIGHT, S. SPOONER, 1853. 

 Reëntered, G. B. , 1880. 

 CONTENTS. 

 Titian--Sketch of his Life, 1 Titian's Manners, 5 Titian's Works, 6 Titian's Imitators, 7 Titian's Venus and Adonis, 8 Titian and the Emperor Charles V. , 10 Titian and Philip II. , 13 Titian's Last Supper and El Mudo, 14 Titian's Old Age, 15 Monument to Titian, 15 Horace Vernet, 16 The Colosseum, 29 Nineveh and its Remains, 34 Description of a Palace Exhumed at Nimroud, 37 Origin and Antiquity of the Arch, 41 Antiquities of Herculaneum, Pompeii, and Stabiæ, 43 Ancient Fresco and Mosaic Painting, 55 Mosaic of the Battle of Platæa, 55 The Aldobrandini Wedding, 56 The Portland Vase, 56 Ancient Pictures on Glass, 58 Henry Fuseli; his Birth, 59 Fuseli's early Love of Art, 59 Fuseli's Literary and Poetical Taste, 60 Fuseli, Lavater, and the Unjust Magistrate, 61 Fuseli's Travels and his Literary Distinction, 62 Fuseli's Arrival in London, 63 Fuseli's change from Literature to Painting, 63 Fuseli's Sojourn in Italy, 65 Fuseli's Nightmare, 66 Fuseli's OEdipus and his Daughters, 66 Fuseli and the Shakspeare Gallery, 67 Fuseli's "Hamlet's Ghost, " 68 Fuseli's Titania, 69 Fuseli's Election as a Royal Academician, 70 Fuseli and Horace Walpole, 71 Fuseli and the Banker Coutts, 72 Fuseli and Professor Porson, 73 Fuseli's method of giving vent to his Passion, 73 Fuseli's Love for Terrific Subjects, 73 Fuseli's and Lawrence's Pictures from the "Tempest, " 74 Fuseli's estimate of Reynolds' Abilities in Historical Painting, 75 Fuseli and Lawrence, 75 Fuseli as Keeper of the Royal Academy, 76 Fuseli's Jests and Oddities with the Students of the Academy, 77 Fuseli's Sarcasms on Northcote, 78 Fuseli's Sarcasms on various rival Artists, 79 Fuseli's Retorts, 80 Fuseli's Suggestion of an Emblem of Eternity, 82 Fuseli's Retort in Mr. Coutts' Banking House, 82 Fuseli's Sarcasms on Landscape and Portrait Painters, 83 Fuseli's Opinion of his own Attainment of Happiness, 84 Fuseli's Private Habits, 84 Fuseli's Wife's method of Curing his fits of Despondency, 85 Fuseli's Personal Appearance, his Sarcastic Disposition, and Quick Temper, 86 Fuseli's near Sight, 87 Fuseli's Popularity, 88 Fuseli's Artistic Merits, 88 Fuseli's Milton Gallery, the Character of his Works, and the Permanency of his Fame, 89 Salvator Rosa, 91 Salvator Rosa and Cav. Lanfranco, 91 Salvator Rosa at Rome and Florence, 92 Salvator Rosa's Return to Rome, 93 Salvator Rosa's Subjects, 93 Flagellation of Salvator Rosa, 95 Salvator Rosa and the Higgling Prince, 96 Salvator Rosa's Opinion of his own Works, 98 Salvator Rosa's Banditti, 98 Salvator Rosa and Massaniello, 100 Salvator Rosa and Cardinal Sforza, 100 Salvator Rosa's Manifesto Concerning his Satirical Picture, La Fortuna, 101 Salvator Rosa's Banishment from Rome, 102 Salvator Rosa's Wit, 103 Salvator Rosa's Reception at Florence, 103 Histrionic Powers of Salvator Rosa, 104 Salvator Rosa's Reception at the Palazzo Pitti, 105 Satires of Salvator Rosa, 105 Salvator Rosa's Harpsichord, 106 Rare Portrait by Salvator Rosa, 106 Salvator Rosa's Return to Rome, 109 Salvator Rosa's Love of Magnificence, 109 Salvator Rosa's Last Works, 111 Salvator Rosa's Desire to be Considered an Historical Painter, 112 Don Mario Ghigi, his Physician, and Salvator Rosa, 113 Death of Salvator Rosa, 115 Domenichino, 121 The Dulness of Domenichino in Youth, 121 Domenichino's Scourging of St. Andrew, 123 The Communion of St. Jerome, 124 Domenichino's Enemies at Rome, 125 Decision of Posterity on the Merits of Domenichino, 126 Proof of the Merits of Domenichino, 127 Domenichino's Caricatures, 127 Intrigues of the Neapolitan Triumvirate of Painters, 128 Giuseppe Ribera, called Il Spagnoletto--his early Poverty and Industry, 133 Ribera's Marriage, 134 Ribera's Rise to Eminence, 135 Ribera's Discovery of the Philosopher's Stone, 135 Ribera's Subjects, 136 Ribera's Disposition, 137 Singular Pictorial Illusions, 137 Raffaelle's Skill in Portraits, 138 Jacopo da Ponte, 139 Giovanni Rosa, 139 Cav. Giovanni Centarini, 139 Guercino's Power of Relief, 140 Bernazzano, 140 Invention of Oil Painting, 141 Foreshortening, 145 Method of Transferring Paintings from Walls and Panels to Canvass, 146 Works in Scagliola, 147 The Golden Age of Painting, 149 Golden Age of the Fine Arts in Ancient Rome, 152 Nero's Golden Palace, 155 Names of Ancient Architects Designated by Reptiles, 156 Triumphal Arches, 157 Statue of Pompey the Great, 159 Antique Sculptures in Rome, 159 Ancient Map of Rome, 160 Julian the Apostate, 160 The Tomb of Mausolus, 161 Mandrocles' Bridge Across the Bosphorus, 162 The Colossus of the Sun at Rhodes, 162 Statues and Paintings at Rhodes, 164 Sostratus' Light-House on the Isle of Pharos, 164 Dinocrates' Plan for Cutting Mount Athos into a Statue of Alexander the Great, 165 Pope's idea of Forming Mount Athos into a Statue of Alexander the Great, 166 Temple with an Iron Statue Suspended in the Air by Loadstone, 168 The Temple of Jupiter Olympius at Athens, 168 The Parthenon at Athens, 170 The Elgin Marbles, 171 The first Odeon at Athens, 182 Perpetual Lamps, 182 The Skull of Raffaelle, 183 The Four Finest Pictures in Rome, 183 The Four Carlos of the 17th Century, 184 Pietro Galletti and the Bolognese Students, 184 Ætion's Picture of the Nuptials of Alexander and Roxana, 184 Ageladas, 185 The Porticos of Agaptos, 185 The Group of Niobe and her Children, 185 Statue of the Fighting Gladiator, 187 The Group of Laocoön in the Vatican, 187 Michael Angelo's Opinion of the Laocoön, 190 Discovery of the Laocoön, 190 Sir John Soane, 191 Soane's Liberality and Public Munificence, 192 The Belzoni Sarcophagus, 194 Tasso's "Gerusalemme Liberata, " 195 George Morland, 197 Morland's Early Talent 198 Morland's Early Fame, 199 Morland's Mental and Moral Education under an Unnatural Parent, 200 Morland's Escape from the Thraldom of his Father, 201 Morland's Marriage and Temporary Reform, 202 Morland's Social Position, 203 An Unpleasant Dilemma, 204 Morland at the Isle of Wight, 205 A Novel Mode of Fulfilling Commissions, 206 Hassel's First Interview with Morland, 206 Morland's Drawings in the Isle of Wight, 207 Morland's Freaks, 208 A Joke on Morland, 208 Morland's Apprehension as a Spy, 209 Morland's "Sign of the Black Bull, " 210 Morland and the Pawnbroker, 211 Morland's idea of a Baronetcy, 212 Morland's Artistic Merits, . 212 Charles Jervas, 213 Jervas the Instructor of Pope, 214 Jervas and Dr. Arbuthnot, 215 Jervas' Vanity, 215 Holbein and the Fly, 216 Holbein's Visit to England, 216 Henry VIII. 's Opinion of Holbein, 217 Holbein's Portrait of the Duchess Dowager of Milan, 218 Holbein's Flattery in Portraits--a Warning to Painters, 219 Holbein's Portrait of Cratzer, 219 Holbein's Portrait of Sir Thomas More and Family, 220 Sir John Vanbrugh and his Critics, 221 Anecdote of the English Painter, James Seymour, 223 Precocity of Luca Giordano, 224 Giordano's Enthusiasm, 225 Luca Fa Presto, 226 Giordano's Skill in Copying, 226 Giordano's Success at Naples, 227 Giordano, the Viceroy, and the Duke of Diano, 228 Giordano Invited to Florence, 229 Giordano and Carlo Dolci, 229 Giordano's Visit to Spain, 230 Giordano's Works in Spain, 231 Giordano at the Escurial, 232 Giordano's Habits in Spain, 233 Giordano's First Picture Painted in Spain, 233 Giordano a Favorite at Court, 234 Giordano's Return to Naples, 236 Giordano's Personal Appearance and Character, 237 Giordano's Riches, 238 Giordano's Wonderful Facility of Hand, 239 Giordano's Powers of Imitation, 240 Giordano's Fame and Reputation, 240 Remarkable Instance of Giordano's Rapidity of Execution, 242 Revival of Painting in Italy, 244 Giovanni Cimabue, 251 Cimabue's Passion for Art, 252 Cimabue's Famous Picture of the Virgin, 253 The Works of Cimabue, 255 Death of Cimabue, 256 Giotto, 257 Giotto's St. Francis Stigmata, 259 Giotto's Invitation to Rome, 260 Giotto's Living Model, 262 Giotto and the King of Naples, 264 Giotto and Dante, 266 Death of Giotto, 266 Buonamico Buffalmacco, 267 Buffalmacco and his Master, 267 Buffalmacco and the Nuns of the Convent of Faenza, 270 Buffalmacco and the Nun's Wine, 272 Buffalmacco, Bishop Guido and his Monkey, 273 Buffalmacco's Trick on the Bishop of Arezzo, 277 Origin of Label Painting, 278 Utility of Ancient Works, 280 Buffalmacco and the Countryman, 282 Buffalmacco and the People of Perugia, 283 Buffalmacco's Novel Method of Enforcing Payment, 285 Stefano Fiorentino, 286 Giottino, 286 Paolo Uccello, 287 Ucello's Enthusiasm, 288 Uccello and the Monks of San Miniato, 289 Uccello's Five Portraits, 290 Uccello's Incredulity of St. Thomas, 291 The Italian Schools of Painting, 292 Claude Joseph Vernet, 295 Vernet's Precocity, 295 Vernet's Enthusiasm, 296 Vernet at Rome 298 Vernet's "Alphabet of Tones, " 299 Vernet and the Connoisseur, 301 Vernet's Works, 301 Vernet's Passion for Music, 306 Vernet's Opinion of his own Merits, 307 Curious Letter of Vernet, 308 Charles Vernet, 310 Anecdote of Charles Vernet, 311 M. De Lasson's Caricature, 311 Frank Hals and Vandyke, 312

ANECDOTES

OF

PAINTERS, ENGRAVERS, SCULPTORS, AND ARCHITECTS. 

TITIAN, --SKETCH OF HIS LIFE. 

The name of this illustrious painter was Tiziano Vecellio or Vecelli, and he is called by the Italians, Tiziano Vecellio da Cadore. He wasdescended of a noble family; born at the castle of Cadore in the Friuliin 1477, and died in 1576, according to Ridolfi; though Vasari andSandrart place his birth in 1480. Lanzi says he died in 1576, aged 99years. He early showed a passion for the art, which was carefullycultivated by his parents. --Lanzi says in a note, that it is prettyclearly ascertained that he received his first instruction from AntonioRossi, a painter of Cadore; if so, it was at a very tender age, forwhen he was ten years old he was sent to Trevigi, and placed underSebastiano Zuccati. He subsequently went to Venice, and studiedsuccessively under Gentile and Giovanni Bellini. Giorgione was hisfellow-student under the last named master, with whom Titian madeextraordinary progress, and attained such an exact imitation of hisstyle that their works could scarcely be distinguished, which greatlyexcited the jealousy of Bellini. 

On the death of Giorgione, Titian rose rapidly into favor. He was soonafterwards invited to the court of Alphonso, Duke of Ferrara, for whomhe painted his celebrated picture of Bacchus and Ariadne, and two otherfabulous subjects, which still retain somewhat of the style ofGiorgione. It was there that he became acquainted with Ariosto, whoseportrait he painted, and in return the poet spread abroad his fame inthe Orlando Furioso. In 1523, the Senate of Venice employed him todecorate the Hall of the Council Chamber, where he represented thefamous Battle of Cadore, between the Venetians and the Imperialists--agrand performance, that greatly increased his reputation. This work wasafterwards destroyed by fire, but the composition has been preserved bythe burin of Fontana. His next performance was his celebrated picture ofSt. Pietro Martire, in the church of SS. Giovanni e Paolo, at Venice, which is generally regarded as his master-piece in historical painting. This picture was carried to Paris by the French, and subsequentlyrestored by the Allies. Notwithstanding the importance of these andother commissions, and the great reputation he had acquired, it is said, though with little probability of truth, that he received such a smallremuneration for his works, that he was in actual indigence in 1530, when the praises bestowed upon him in the writings of his friend PietroAretino, recommended him to the notice of the Emperor Charles V. , whohad come to Bologna to be crowned by Pope Clement VII. Titian wasinvited thither, and painted the portrait of that monarch, and hisprincipal attendants, for which he was liberally rewarded. --About thistime, he was invited to the court of the Duke of Mantua, whose portraithe painted, and decorated a saloon in the palace with a series of theTwelve Cæsars, beneath which Giulio Romano afterwards painted a subjectfrom the history of each. In 1543, Paul III. Visited Ferrara, whereTitian was then engaged, sat for his portrait and invited him to Rome, but previous engagements with the Duke of Urbino, obliged him to declineor defer the invitation. Having completed his undertakings for thatprince, he went to Rome at the invitation of the Cardinal Farnese in1548, where he was received with marks of great distinction. He wasaccommodated with apartments in the palace of the Belvidere, and paintedthe Pope, Paul III. , a second time, whom he represented seated betweenthe Cardinal Farnese and Prince Ottavio. He also painted his famouspicture of Danaë, which caused Michael Angelo to lament that Titian hadnot studied the antique as accurately as he had nature, in which casehis works would have been inimitable, by uniting the perfection ofcoloring with correctness of design. It is said that the Pope was socaptivated with his works that he endeavored to retain him at Rome, andoffered him as an inducement the lucrative office of the Leaden Seal, then vacant by the death of Frà Sebastiano del Piombo, but he declinedon account of conscientious scruples. Titian had no sooner returned fromRome to Venice, than he received so pressing an invitation from hisfirst protector, Charles V. , to visit the court of Spain, that he couldno longer refuse; and he accordingly set out for Madrid, where hearrived at the beginning of 1550, and was received with extraordinaryhonors. After a residence of three years at Madrid, he returned toVenice, whence he was shortly afterwards invited to Inspruck, where hepainted the portrait of Ferdinand, king of the Romans, his queen andchildren, in one picture. --Though now advanced in years, his powerscontinued unabated, and this group was accounted one of his bestproductions. He afterwards returned to Venice, where he continued toexercise his pencil to the last year of his long life. 

TITIAN'S MANNERS. 

Most writers observe that Titian had four different manners, at as manydifferent periods of his life: first that of Bellini, somewhat stiff andhard, in which he imitated nature, according to Lanzi, with a greaterprecision than even Albert Durer, so that "the hairs might be numbered, the skin of the hands, the very pores of the flesh, and the reflectionof objects in the pupils seen:" second, an imitation of Giorgione, morebold and full of force; Lanzi says that some of his portraits executedat this time, cannot be distinguished from those of Giorgione: third, his own inimitable style, which he practiced from about his thirtiethyear, and which was the result of experience, knowledge, and judgment, beautifully natural, and finished with exquisite care: and fourth, thepictures which he painted in his old age. Sandrart says that, "at firsthe labored his pictures highly, and gave them a polished beauty andlustre, so as to produce their effect full as well when they wereexamined closely, as when viewed at a distance; but afterwards, he somanaged his penciling that their greatest force and beauty appeared at amore remote view, and they pleased less when they were beheld morenearly; so that many of those artists who studied to imitate him, beingmisled by appearances which they did not sufficiently consider, imaginedthat Titian executed his works with readiness and masterly rapidity;and concluded that they should imitate his manner most effectually by afreedom of hand and a bold pencil; whereas Titian in reality tookabundance of pains to work up his pictures to so high a degree ofperfection, and the freedom that appears in the handling was entirelyeffected by a skillful combination of labor and judgment, and a fewbold, artful strokes of the pencil to conceal his labor. "

TITIAN'S WORKS. 

The works of Titian, though many of his greatest productions have beendestroyed by terrible conflagrations at Venice and Madrid, are numerous, scattered throughout Europe, in all the royal collections, and the mostcelebrated public galleries, particularly at Venice, Rome, Bologna, Milan, Florence, Vienna, Dresden, Paris, London, and Madrid. The mostnumerous are portraits, Madonnas, Magdalens, Bacchanals, Venuses, andother mythological subjects, some of which are extremely voluptuous. Twoof his grandest and most celebrated works are the Last Supper in theEscurial, and Christ crowned with Thorns at Milan. It is said that theworks of Titian, to be appreciated, should be seen at Venice or Madrid, as many claimed to be genuine elsewhere are of very doubtfulauthenticity. He painted many of his best works for the Spanish court, first for the Emperor Charles V. , and next for his successor, PhilipII. , who is known to have given him numerous commissions to decoratethe Escurial and the royal palaces at Madrid. There are numerousduplicates of some of his works, considered genuine, some of which he issupposed to have made himself, and others to have been carefully copiedby his pupils and retouched by himself; he frequently made some slightalterations in the backgrounds, to give them more of the look oforiginals; thus the original of his Christ and the Pharisees, or theTribute Money, is now in the Dresden Gallery, yet Lanzi says there arenumerous copies in Italy, one of which he saw at St. Saverio di Rimini, inscribed with his name, which is believed to be a duplicate rather thana copy. There are more than six hundred engravings from his pictures, including both copper-plates and wooden cuts. He is said to haveengraved both on wood and copper himself, but Bartsch considers all theprints attributed to him as spurious, though a few of them are signedwith his name, only eight of which he describes. 

TITIAN'S IMITATORS. 

Titian, the great head of the Venetian school, like Raffaelle, the headof the Roman, had a host of imitators and copyists, some of whomapproached him so closely as to deceive the best judges; and many worksattributed to him, even in the public galleries of Europe, weredoubtless executed by them. 

TITIAN'S VENUS AND ADONIS. 

This chef-d'oeuvre of Titian, so celebrated in the history of art, represents Venus endeavoring to detain Adonis from the fatal chase. Titian is known to have made several repetitions of this charmingcomposition, some of them slightly varied, and the copies are almostinnumerable. The original is supposed to have been painted at Rome as acompanion to the Danaë, for the Farnese family, about 1548, and is nowin the royal gallery at Naples. The most famous of the originalrepetitions is that at Madrid, painted for King Philip II. , when princeof Spain, and about the period of his marriage with Queen Mary ofEngland. There is a fine duplicate of this picture in the EnglishNational Gallery, another in the Dulwich gallery, and two or three morein the private collections of England. Ottley thus describes thispicture:--

 "The figure of Venus, which is seen in a back view, receives the principal light, and is without drapery, save that a white veil, which hangs from her shoulder, spreads itself over the right knee. The chief parts of this figure are scarcely less excellent in respect of form than of coloring. The head possesses great beauty, and is replete with natural expression. The fair hair of the goddess, collected into a braid rolled up at the back of her head, is entwined by a string of pearls, which, from their whiteness, give value to the delicate carnation of her figure. She throws her arms, impassioned, around her lover, who, resting with his right hand upon his javelin, and holding with the left the traces which confine his dogs, looks upon her unmoved by her solicitations, and impatient to repair to the chase. Cupid, meantime, is seen sleeping at some distance off, under the shadow of a group of lofty trees, from one of which are suspended his bow and quiver; a truly poetic thought, by which, it is scarcely necessary to add, the painter intended to signify that the blandishments and caresses of beauty, unaided by love, may be exerted in vain. In the coloring, this picture unites the greatest possible richness and depth of tone, with that simplicity and sobriety of character which Sir Joshua Reynolds so strongly recommends in his lectures, as being the best adapted to the higher kinds of painting. The habit of the goddess, on which she sits, is of crimson velvet, a little inclining to purple, and ornamented with an edging of gold lace, which is, however, so subdued in tone as not to look gaudy, its lining being of a delicate straw color, touched here and there with a slight glazing of lake. The dress of Adonis, also, is crimson, but of a somewhat warmer hue. There is little or no blue in the sky, which is covered with clouds, and but a small proportion of it on the distant hills; the effect altogether appearing, to be the result of a very simple principle of arrangement in the coloring, namely, that of excluding almost all cold tints from the illuminated parts of the picture. "

TITIAN AND THE EMPEROR CHARLES V. 

One of the most pleasant things recorded in the life of Titian, is thelong and intimate friendship that subsisted between him and the greatand good Emperor Charles V. , whose name is known in history as one ofthe wisest and best sovereigns of Europe. According to Vasari, Titian, when he was first recommended to the notice of the Emperor by PietroAretino, was in deep poverty, though his name was then known all overItaly. Charles, who appreciated, and knew how to assist genius withoutwounding its delicacy, employed Titian to paint his portrait, for whichhe munificently rewarded him. He afterwards invited him to Madrid in themost pressing and flattering terms, where he was received withextraordinary honors. He was appointed gentleman of the Emperor'sbed-chamber, that he might be near his person; Charles also conferredupon him the order of St. Jago, and made him a Count Palatine of theempire. He did not grace the great artist with splendid titles anddecorations only, but showed him more solid marks of his favor, by bestowing upon him life-rents in Naples and Milan of two hundred ducatseach, besides a munificent compensation for each picture. These honorsand favors were, doubtless, doubly gratifying to Titian, as coming froma prince who was not only a lover of the fine arts, but an excellentconnoisseur. "The Emperor, " says Palomino, "having learned drawing inhis youth, examined pictures and prints with all the keenness of anartist; and he much astonished Æneas Vicus of Parma, by the searchingscrutiny that he bestowed on a print of his own portrait, which thatfamous engraver had submitted to his eye. " Stirling, in his Annals ofSpanish Artists, says, that of no prince are recorded more sayings whichshow a refined taste and a quick eye. He told the Burghers of Antwerpthat, "the light and soaring spire of their cathedral deserved to be putunder a glass case. " He called Florence "the Queen of the Arno, deckedfor a perpetual holiday. " He regretted that he had given his consent forthe conversion of the famous mosque of Abderahman at Cordova into acathedral, when he saw what havoc had been made of the forest of fairycolumns by the erection of the Christian choir. "Had I known, " said heto the abashed improvers, "of what you were doing, you should have laidno finger on this ancient pile. You have built _a something_, such as isto be found anywhere, and you have destroyed a wonder of the world. "

The Emperor delighted to frequent the studio of Titian, on whichoccasions he treated him with extraordinary familiarity andcondescension. The fine speeches which he lavished upon him, are as wellknown as his more substantial rewards. The painter one day happening tolet fall his brush, the monarch picked it up, and presented it to theastonished artist, saying, "It becomes Cæsar to serve Titian. " Onanother occasion, Cæsar requested Titian to retouch a picture which hungover the door of the chamber, and with the assistance of his courtiersmoved up a table for the artist to stand upon, but finding the heightinsufficient, without more ado, he took hold of one corner, and callingon those gentlemen to assist, he hoisted Titian aloft with his ownimperial hands, saying, "We must all of us bear up this great man toshow that his art is empress of all others. " The envy and displeasurewith which men of pomp and ceremonies viewed these familiarities, thatappeared to them as so many breaches in the divinity that hedged theirking and themselves, only gave their master opportunities to do freshhonors to his favorite in these celebrated and cutting rebukes: "Thereare many princes, but there is only one Titian;" and again, when heplaced Titian on his right hand, as he rode out on horseback, "I havemany nobles, but I have only one Titian. " Not less valued, perhaps, bythe great painter, than his titles, orders, and pensions, was thedelicate compliment the Emperor paid him when he declared that "no otherhand should draw his portrait, since he had thrice received immortalityfrom the pencil of Titian. " Palomino, perhaps carried away by anartist's enthusiasm, asserts that "Charles regarded the acquisition of apicture by Titian with as much satisfaction as he did the conquest of aprovince. " At all events, when the Emperor parted with all his provincesby abdicating his throne, he retained some of Titian's pictures. When hebetook himself to gardening, watchmaking, and manifold masses at SanYuste, the sole luxury to be found in his simple apartments, with theirhangings of sombre brown, was that master's St. Jerome, meditating in acavern scooped in the cliffs of a green and pleasant valley--a fittingemblem of his own retreat. Before this appropriate picture, or the"Glory, " which hung in the church of the convent, and which was removedin obedience to his will, with his body to the Escurial, he paid hisorisons and schooled his mind to forgetfulness of the pomps and vanitiesof life. 

TITIAN AND PHILIP II. 

Titian was not less esteemed by Philip II. , than by his father, CharlesV. When Philip married Mary, Queen of England, he presented him hisfamous picture of Venus and Adonis, with the following letter ofcongratulation, which may be found in Ticozzi's Life of Titian:

 "_To Philip, King of England, greeting_:

 "Most sacred Majesty! I congratulate your Majesty on the kingdom which God has granted to you; and I accompany my congratulations with the picture of Venus and Adonis, which I hope will be looked upon by you with the favorable eye you are accustomed to cast upon the works of your servant

 "TITIAN. "

According to Palomino, Philip was sitting on his throne, in council, when the news arrived of the disastrous conflagration of the palace ofthe Prado, in which so many works by the greatest masters weredestroyed. He earnestly demanded if the Titian Venus was among thosesaved, and on being informed it was, he exclaimed, "Then every otherloss may be supported!"

TITIAN'S LAST SUPPER AND EL MUDO. 

Palomino says that when Titian's famous painting of the Last Supperarrived at the Escurial, it was found too large to fit the panel in therefectory, where it was designed to hang. The king, Philip II. , proposedto cut it to the proper size. El Mudo (the dumb painter), who waspresent, to prevent the mutilation of so capital a work, made earnestsigns of intercession with the king, to be permitted to copy it, offering to do it in the space of six months. The king expressed somehesitation, on account of the length of time required for the work, andwas proceeding to put his design in execution, when El Mudo repeated hissupplications in behalf of his favorite master with more fervency thanever, offering to complete the copy in less time than he at firstdemanded, tendering at the same time his head as the punishment if hefailed. The offer was not accepted, and execution was performed onTitian, accompanied with the most distressing attitudes and distortionsof El Mudo. 

TITIAN'S OLD AGE. 

Titian continued to paint to the last year of his long life, and manywriters, fond of the marvellous, assert that his faculties and hispowers continued to the last. Vasari, who saw him in 1566 for the lasttime, said he "could no longer recognize Titian in Titian. " Lanzi says, "There remains in the church of S. Salvatore, one of these pictures(executed towards the close of his life), of the Annunciation, whichattracts the attention only from the name of the master. Yet when he wastold by some one that it was not, or at least did not appear to havebeen executed by his hand, he was so much irritated that, in a fit ofsenile indignation, he seized his pencil and inscribed upon it, 'Tizianus fecit, fecit. ' Still the most experienced judges are agreedthat much may be learned, even from his latest works, in the same manneras the poets pronounce judgment upon the Odyssey, the product of oldage, but still by Homer. "

MONUMENT TO TITIAN. 

A monument to Titian, from the studio of the brothers Zandomenghi, waserected in Venice in 1852; and the civil, ecclesiastical, and militaryauthorities were present at the ceremony of inauguration. It representsTitian, surrounded by figures impersonating the Fine Arts; below areimpersonations of the fifteenth and nineteenth centuries. The basementis adorned with five bas-reliefs, representing as many celebratedpaintings by the great artist. 

HORACE VERNET. 

Among all the artists of our day, is one standing almost alone, andsingularly characterized in many respects. He is entirely wanting inthat lofty religious character which fills with pureness and beauty theworks of the early masters; he has not the great and impressivehistorical qualities of the school of Raffaelle, nor the daringsublimity of Michael Angelo; he has not the rich luxury of color thatrenders the works of the great Venetians so gorgeous, nor even that sortof striking reality which makes the subjects rendered by the Flemishmasters incomparably life-like. Yet he is rich in qualities deeplyattractive and interesting to the people, especially the French people, of our own day. He displays an astonishing capacity and rapidity ofexecution, an almost unparalleled accuracy of memory, a rare life andmotion on the canvass, a vigorous comprehension of the military tacticsof the time, a wonderful aptitude at rendering the camp and field potentsubjects for the pencil, notwithstanding the regularity of movement, and the unpicturesque uniformity of costume demanded by the militaryscience of our day. Before a battle-piece, of Horace Vernet (and onlyhis battle-pieces are his masterpieces), the crowd stands breathless andhorrified at the terrible and bloody aspect of war; while the militaryconnoisseur admires the ability and skill of the feats of arms, sofaithfully rendered that he forgets he is not looking at real soldiersin action. In the landscapes and objects of the foreground orbackground, there are not that charm of color and aërial depth andtransparency in which the eye revels, yet there is a hard vigorousactuality which adds to the force and energy of the actors, andstrengthens the idea of presence at the battle, without attracting orcharming away the mind from the terrible inhumanities principallyrepresented. No poetry, no romance, no graceful and gentle beauty; butthe stern dark reality as it might be written in an official bulletin, or related in a vigorous, but cold and accurate, page of history. Suchis the distinguishing talent of Horace Vernet--talent sufficient, however, to make his pictures the attractive centres of crowds at theLouvre Exhibitions, and to make himself the favorite of courts and oneof the _illustrissimi_ of Europe. 

The Vernets have been a family of painters during four generations. Thegreat-grandfather of Horace was a well-known artist at Avignon, ahundred and fifty years ago. His son and pupil, Claude Joseph Vernet, was the first marine painter of his time; and occupies, with his worksalone, an entire apartment of the French Gallery at the Louvre, besidesgreat numbers of sea-pieces and landscapes belonging to privategalleries. He died in 1789, but his son and pupil, Antoine CharlesHorace Vernet, who had already during two years sat by his side in theRoyal Academy, continued the reputation of the family during theConsulate and Empire. He was particularly distinguished forcavalry-battles, hunting scenes, and other incidents in which the horsefigured largely as actor. In some of these pictures the hand of the sonalready joined itself to that of the father, the figures being from thepencil of Horace; and before the death of the father, which took placein 1836, he had already seen the artistic reputation of the familyincreased and heightened by the fame of his son. 

Horace Vernet was born at the Louvre on the 30th June, 1789, the year ofthe death of his grandfather, who, as painter to the king, had occupiedrooms at the Louvre, where his father also resided; so that Horace notonly inherited his art from a race of artist-ancestors, but was bornamid the _chef d' oeuvres_ of the entire race of painters. Of course, his whole childhood and youth were surrounded with objects of Art; andit was scarcely possible for him not to be impressed in the most livelymanner by the unbroken artist-life in which he was necessarily broughtup. It would appear that from his childhood he employed himself indaubing on walls, and drawing on scraps of paper all sorts of littlesoldiers. 

Like his father and grandfather, his principal lessons as a student weredrawn from the paternal experience, and certainly no professor couldmore willingly and faithfully save him all the loss of time and patienceoccasioned by the long and often fruitless groping of the almostsolitary Art-student. He was also thus saved from falling into theerrors of the school of David. Certainly no great _penchant_ towards theantique is discoverable in his father's works; nor in his own do we findpainted casts of Greek statues dressed in the uniforms of the nineteenthcentury. At twenty, it is true, he tried, but without success, theclassic subject offered to competition at the Academy for the prize ofvisiting Rome. The study of the antique did not much delight him. On thecontrary, he rather joined with the innovators, whose example was thenundermining the over-classic influence of David's school, the mostformidable and influential of whom, a youth about his own age, and afellow-student in his father's atelier, was then painting a greatpicture, sadly decried at the time, but now considered one of themasterpieces of the French school in the Louvre--the "Raft of theMedusa. " Gericault was his companion in the studio and in the field, atthe easel and on horseback; and we might trace here one of the manyinstances of the influence which this powerful and original geniusexercised on the young artists of his time, and which, had it not beenarrested by his premature death in January, 1824, would have madeGericault more strikingly distinguished as one of the master-spirits inFrench Art, and the head of a school entirely the opposite to that ofDavid. 

Horace's youth, however, did not pass entirely under the smiles offortune. He had to struggle with those difficulties of narrow means withwhich a very large number of young artists are tolerably intimate. Hehad to weather the gales of poverty by stooping to all sorts ofillustrative work, whose execution we fancy must have been often asevere trial to him. Any youth aiming at "high art, " and feeling, thoughpoor, too proud to bend in order to feed the taste, (grotesque andunrefined enough, it must be allowed, ) of the good public, which artistssomewhat naturally estimate rather contemptuously, might get a lesson ofpatience by looking over an endless series of the most variedly hideouscostumes or caricatures of costume which Horace was glad to draw, foralmost any pecuniary consideration. A series of amusingly _naive_colored prints, illustrating the adventures of poor La Vallière withLouis XIV. , would strengthen the lesson. These were succeeded bylithographs of an endless variety of subjects--the soldier's life in allits phases, the "horse and its rider" in all their costumes, snatches ofromances, fables, caricatures, humorous pieces, men, beasts, and things. In short, young Horace tried his hand at any thing and every thing inthe drawing line, at once earning a somewhat toughly-woven livelihood, and perfecting his talent with the pencil. In later years, the force andfreedom of this talent were witnessed to by illustrations of a moreimportant character in a magnificent edition of Voltaire's _Henriade_, published in 1825, and of the well known _Life of Napoleon_ by Laurent. 

Failing, as we have said, and perhaps fortunately for him, in theachievement of the great Prize of Rome, he turned to the line of Art forwhich he felt himself naturally endowed, the incidents of the camp andfield. The "Taking of a Redoubt;" the "Dog of the Regiment;" the "Horseof the Trumpeter;" "Halt of French Soldiers;" the "Battle of Tolosa;"the "Barrier of Clichy, or Defense of Paris in 1814" (both of whichlast, exhibited in 1817, now hang in the gallery of the Luxembourg), the"Soldier-Laborer;" the "Soldier of Waterloo;" the "Last Cartridge;" the"Death of Poniatowski;" the "Defense of Saragossa, " and many more, quickly followed each other, and kept up continually and increasinglythe public admiration. The critics of the painted bas-relief schoolfound much to say against, and little in favor of, the new talent thatseemed to look them inimically in the face, or rather did not seem toregard them at all. But people in general, of simple enough taste inmatter of folds of drapery or classic laws of composition or antiquelines of beauty, saw before them with all the varied sentiments ofadmiration, terror, or dismay, the soldier mounting the breach at thecannon's mouth, or the general, covered with orders, cut short in themidst of his fame. Little of the romantic, little of poeticalidealization, little of far-fetched _style_ was there on thesecanvasses, but the crowd recognized the soldier as they saw him daily, in the midst of the scenes which the bulletin of the army or the page ofthe historian had just narrated to them. They were content, they werefull of admiration, they admired the pictures, they admired the artist;and, the spleen of critics notwithstanding, Horace Vernet was known asone of the favorite painters of the time. 

In 1819 appeared the "Massacre of the Mamelukes at Cairo, " now in theLuxembourg. We do not know how the public accepted this production. Wehave no doubt, however, that they were charmed at the gaudy _éclat_ ofthe bloodthirsty tyrant, with his hookah and lion in the foreground, anddismayed at the base assassinations multiplied in the background. Nor dowe doubt that the critics gave unfavorable judgments thereupon, and thatmost of those who loved Art seriously, said little about the picture. Wewould at all events express our own regret that the authorities do notfind some better works than this and the "Battle of Tolosa, " torepresent in a public gallery the talent of the most famousbattle-painter of France. The Battles of Jemmapes, Valmy, Hanau, andMontmirail, executed at this time, and hung till lately in the galleryof the Palais Royal (now, we fear, much, if not entirely, destroyed bythe mob on the 24th February), were much more worthy of such a place. Whether it was by a considerate discernment that the mob attacked these, as the property of the ex-king, or by a mere goth-and-vandalism ofrevolution, we do not know; but certainly we would rather have deliveredup to their wrath these others, the "property of the nation. " The samehand would hardly seem to have executed both sets of paintings. It isnot only the difference in size of the figures on the canvass, those ofthe Luxembourg being life-sized, and those of the Palais Royal only afew inches in length, but the whole style of the works is different. Thefirst seem painted as if they had been designed merely to be reproducedin gay silks and worsteds at the Gobelins, where we have seen a copy ofthe "Massacre of the Mamelukes, " in tapestry, which we would, foritself, have preferred to the original. But the latter four battles, notwithstanding the disadvantage of costume and arrangement necessarilyimposed by the difference of time and country, produce far moresatisfactory works of Art, and come much nearer to historical painting. They are painted without pretension, without exaggeration. The detailsare faithfully and carefully, though evidently rapidly, executed. Thegenerals and personages in the front are speaking portraits; and thewhole scene is full of that sort of life and action which impresses oneat once as the very sort of action that must have taken place. Now it isa battery of artillery backed against a wood, --now it is a plain overwhich dense ranks of infantry march in succession to the front of thefire. Here it is a scene where in the full sunlight shows the wholedetails of the action; there it is night--and a night of cloud andstorm, draws her sombre veil over the dead and wounded covering thefield. A historian might find on these canvasses, far better than instores of manuscript, wherewith to fill many a page of history withaccurate and vivid details of these bloody days; or rather, many a pageof history would not present so accurate and vivid a conception of whatis a field of battle. 

In 1822, entry to the exhibition at the Louvre being refused to hisworks, Horace Vernet made an exhibition-room of his atelier, had acatalogue made out (for what with battles, hunts, landscapes, portraits, he had a numerous collection), and the public were admitted. In 1826 hewas admitted a Member of the Institute, and in 1830 was appointedDirector of the Academy at Rome, so that the young man who could not sofar decline his antiques as to treat the classic subject of the RoyalAcademy, and thus gain the Academy at Rome, now went there as chief ofthe school, and as one of the most distinguished artists of his time. This residence for five years among the best works of the great mastersof Italy naturally inspired him with ideas and desires which it had notbeen hitherto in his circumstances to gratify. And once installed in theVilla Medici, which he made to resound with the voices of joy andrevelry, splendid fêtes and balls, he set himself to study the Italianschool. 

A series of pictures somewhat new in subject and manner of treatment wasthe result of this change of circumstances and ideas. To the ParisExhibition of 1831 he sent a "Judith and Holofernes, " which is one ofthe least successful of his pictures in the Luxembourg, where it hangsstill, with another sent two years after, "Raffaelle and Michael Angeloin the Vatican. " This is perhaps the best of his works at theLuxembourg, all being inferior; but it has a certain dry gaudiness ofcolor, and a want of seriousness of design, which render it unfit to beconsidered a master-work. One unquestionably preferable, the "Arrestingof the Princes at the Palais Royal by order of Anne of Austria, " foundits way to the Palais Royal, so that in this, as in the other we haveremarked, the king seemed to know how to choose better than theArt-authorities of the "Gallery of Living Painters. " A number of otherpictures testified to the activity of the artist's pencil atRome:--"Combat of Brigands against the Pope's Riflemen, " "Confession ofthe Dying Brigand, " also at the Palais Royal, but also we fear destroyedby the popular vandalism of the 24th February; a "Chase in the PontineMarshes, " "Pope Leo XII. Carried into St. Peter's. " The favor of thepublic, however, still turned to the usual subject of Horace Vernet--theFrench soldier's life; finding which, on his return from Rome, herecurred to his original study. In 1836 he exhibited four newbattle-pieces, "Friedland, " "Wagram, " "Jena, " and "Fontenoy, " in whichwere apparent all his usual excellencies. 

The occupation of the Algerine territory by the French troops affordedthe artist an opportunity of exhibiting his powers in that departmentmost suited to them. A whole gallery at Versailles was set apart for thebattle-painter, called the _Constantine Gallery_, after the mostimportant feat of arms yet performed by the French troops in Africa, theTaking of the town of Constantine. Some of the solitary andextraordinary, we might say accidental, military exploits in Europe ofLouis Philippe's reign, are also commemorated there. The "Occupation ofAncona, " the "Entry of the Army into Belgium, " the "Attack of theCitadel of Antwerp, " the "Fleet forcing the Tagus, " show that nothing isforgotten of the Continental doings. The African feats are almost toomany to enumerate. In a "Sortie of the Arab Garrison of Constantine, "the Duke de Nemours is made to figure in person. Then we have theTroops of Assault receiving the Signal to leave the Trenches, and "TheScaling of the Breach. " There are the "Occupation of the Defile ofTeniah, " "Combat of the Habrah, of the Sickak, of Samah, of Afzoum. " Infine, there is the largest canvass in existence, it is said, the"Taking of the Smalah, " that renowned occasion when the army was so_very near_ taking Abd-el-Kader; and the "Battle of Isly, " which gainedthat splendid trophy, the parasol of command. Besides these greatsubjects there are decorations of military trophies and allegoricalfigures, which seem to have been painted by some pupil of Vernet. Thesebattles were first of all exhibited to the admiration of Paris in thevarious salons after their execution, and were then sent off to decorateVersailles. There are also, in the _Gallery of French History_, atVersailles, several others of his, such as the "Battle of Bouvines;""Charles X. Reviewing the National Guard;" the "Marshal St. Cyr, " andsome others among those we have already named. In them the qualities ofthe artist are manifested more fully, we think, than in any others ofhis works. They are full of that energy, vivacity, and daguerreotypicverity which he so eminently displays. There is none of that pretensionafter "high Art" which has injured the effect of some of his pictures. The rapidity of their execution too in general was such, that the publichad hardly finished reading the last news of the combats, when theartist, returned in many cases from witnessing the scenes, had placedthem on the canvass, and offered them to popular gaze. Yet the canvassesare in many cases of great extent, and often, the figures of life-size. But the artist rarely employs the model, painting mostly from memory, afaculty most astonishingly developed in him. He generally also saveshimself the trouble of preparing a smaller sketch to paint after, working out his subject at once in the definitive size. Of course withmore serious and elevated subjects, worked out in a more serious andelevated spirit, such a system would not do. But for the style ofsubject and execution required by Horace Vernet's artistic organization, these careful preparations would not answer. They would only tend todiminish the sweeping passion of the fiery _melée_, and freeze the swiftimpulsive rush of the attack or flight. 

Vernet has several times attempted Biblical subjects, but they havenever succeeded so well as to add anything to his fame as abattle-painter. "Judah and Tamar, " "Agar dismissed by Abraham, " "Rebeccaat the Fountain, " "Judith with the head of Holofernes, " "The GoodSamaritan, " have rather served to illustrate Arab costume and manners, (which he makes out to be the same as, or very similar to, those of oldBiblical times, ) than to illustrate his own power in the higher range ofArt. 

In the midst of painting all these, Horace Vernet has found time, whichfor him is the smallest requisite in painting, to produce an innumerablemass of pictures for private galleries, or at the command of variouscrowned heads; which, with many of those already mentioned, are wellknown all over Europe by engravings. "The Post of the Desert, " "ThePrayer in the Desert, " "The Lion Hunt in the Desert, " "Council ofArabs, " "Episode of the Pest of Barcelona, " "The Breach of Constantine, ""Mazeppa, " and a host of others, together with landscapes, portraits, &c. , have served both to multiply his works in the galleries of everycountry in Europe, and to make him one of the most popular of livingartists. 

THE COLOSSEUM. 

The Colosseum, or Coliseum, was commenced by Vespasian, and completed byTitus, (A. D. 79. ) This enormous building occupied only three years inits erection. Cassiodorus affirms that this magnificent monument offolly cost as much as would have been required to build a capital city. We have the means of distinctly ascertaining its dimensions and itsaccommodations from the great mass of wall that still remains entire;and although the very clamps of iron and brass that held together theponderous stones of this wonderful edifice were removed by Gothicplunderers, and succeeding generations have resorted to it as to aquarry for their temples and their palaces--yet the "enormous skeleton"still stands to show what prodigious works may be raised by the skilland perseverance of man, and how vain are the mightiest displays of hisphysical power when compared with those intellectual efforts which haveextended the empire of virtue and of science. 

The Colosseum, which is of an oval form, occupies the space of nearlysix acres. It may justly be said to have been the most imposingbuilding, from its apparent magnitude, in the world; the Pyramids ofEgypt can only be compared with it in the extent of their plan, as theyeach cover nearly the same surface. The greatest length, or major axis, is 620 feet; the greatest breadth, or minor axis, is 513 feet. The outerwall is 157 feet high in its whole extent. The exterior wall is dividedinto four stories, each ornamented with one of the orders ofarchitecture. The cornice of the upper story is perforated for thepurpose of inserting wooden masts, which passed also through thearchitrave and frieze, and descended to a row of corbels immediatelyabove the upper range of windows, on which are holes to receive themasts. These masts were for the purpose of attaching cords to, forsustaining the awning which defended the spectators from the sun orrain. Two corridors ran all round the building, leading to staircaseswhich ascended to the several stories; and the seats which descendedtowards the arena, supported throughout upon eighty arches, occupied somuch of the space that the clear opening of the present inner wall nextthe arena is only 287 feet by 180 feet. Immediately above and around thearena was the podium, elevated about twelve or fifteen feet, on whichwere seated the emperor, senators, ambassadors of foreign nations, andother distinguished personages in that city of distinctions. From thepodium to the top of the second story were seats of marble for theequestrian order; above the second story the seats appear to have beenconstructed of wood. In these various seats eighty thousand spectatorsmight be arranged according to their respective ranks; and indeed itappears from inscriptions, as well as from expressions in Roman writers, that many of the places in this immense theatre were assigned toparticular individuals, and that each might find his seat withoutconfusion. On extraordinary occasions, 110, 000 persons could crowd intoit. 

Gibbon has given a splendid description, in his twelfth book, of theexhibitions in the Colosseum; but he acknowledges his obligations toMontaigne, who, says the historian, "gives a very just and lively viewof Roman magnificence in these spectacles. " Our readers will, we doubtnot, be gratified by the quaint but most appropriate sketch of the oldphilosopher of France:--

"It was doubtless a fine thing to bring and plant within the theatre agreat number of vast trees, with all their branches in their fullverdure, representing a great shady forest, disposed in excellent order, and the first day to throw into it a thousand ostriches, a thousandstags, a thousand boars, and a thousand fallow deer, to be killed anddisposed of by the people: the next day to cause an hundred great lions, an hundred leopards and three hundred bears to be killed in hispresence: and for the third day, to make three hundred pair of fencersto fight it out to the last, --as the Emperor Probus did. It was alsovery fine to see those vast amphitheatres, all faced with marblewithout, curiously wrought with figures and statues, and the insidesparkling with rare decorations and enrichments; all the sides of thisvast space filled and environed from the bottom to the top, with threeor four score ranks of seats, all of marble also, and covered withcushions, where an hundred thousand men might sit placed at their ease;and the place below, where the plays were played, to make it by artfirst open and cleave into chinks, representing caves that vomited outthe beasts designed for the spectacle; and then secondly, to beoverflowed with a profound sea, full of sea-monsters, and loaded withships of war, to represent a naval battle: and thirdly, to make it dryand even again for the combats of the gladiators; and for the fourthscene, to have it strewed with vermilion and storax, instead of sand, there to make a solemn feast for all that infinite number of people--thelast act of only one day. 

"Sometimes they have made a high mountain advance itself, full offruit-trees and other flourishing sorts of woods, sending down rivuletsof water from the top, as from the mouth of a fountain: other whiles, agreat ship was seen to come rolling in, which opened and divided itself;and after having disgorged from the hold four or five hundred beasts forfight, closed again, and vanished without help. At other times, from thefloor of this place, they made spouts of perfumed water dart theirstreams upward, and so high as to besprinkle all that infinitemultitude. To defend themselves from the injuries of the weather, theyhad that vast place one while covered over with purple curtains ofneedle-work, and by-and-by with silk of another color, which they coulddraw off or on in a moment, as they had a mind. The net-work also thatwas set before the people to defend them from the violence of theseturned-out beasts, was also woven of gold. "

"If there be anything excusable in such excesses as these, " continuesMontaigne, "it is where the novelty and invention creates more wonderthan expense. " Fortunately for the real enjoyments of mankind, evenunder the sway of a Roman despot, "the novelty and invention" had verynarrow limits when applied to matters so utterly unworthy andunintellectual as the cruel sports of the amphitheatre. Probus indeed, transplanted trees to the arena, so that it had the appearance of averdant grove; and Severus introduced four hundred ferocious animals inone ship sailing in the little lake which the arena formed. But onordinary occasions, profusion, --tasteless, haughty, and uninventiveprofusion, --the gorgeousness of brute power, the pomp of satiatedluxury--these constituted the only claim to the popular admiration. IfTitus exhibited five thousand wild beasts at the dedication of theamphitheatre, Trajan bestowed ten thousand on the people at theconclusion of the Dacian war. If the younger Gordian collected togetherbears, elks, zebras, ostriches, boars, and wild horses, he was animitator only of the spectacles of Carus, in which the rarity of theanimals was as much considered as their fierceness. 

NINEVEH AND ITS REMAINS. 

"For very many centuries, the hoary monuments of Egypt--its temples, itsobelisks, and its tombs--have presented to the eye of the beholderstrange forms of sculpture and of language; the import of which nonecould tell. The wild valleys of Sinai, too, exhibited upon their rockysides the unknown writings of a former people; whose name and existencenone could trace. Among the ruined halls of Persepolis, and on therock-hewn tablets of the surrounding regions, long inscriptions inforgotten characters seemed to enrol the deeds and conquests of mightysovereigns; but none could read the record. Thanks to the skill andpersevering zeal of scholars of the 19th century, the key of theselocked up treasures has been found; and the records have mostly beenread. The monuments of Egypt, her paintings and her hieroglyphics, mutefor so many ages, have at length spoken out; and now our knowledge ofthis ancient people is scarcely less accurate and extensive than ouracquaintance with the classic lands of Greece and Rome. The unknowncharacters upon the rocks of Sinai have been deciphered, but the meagrecontents still leave us in darkness as to their origin and purpose. Thecuneiform or arrow-headed inscriptions of the Persian monuments andtablets, have yielded up their mysteries, unfolding historical data ofhigh importance; thus illustrating and confirming the few and sometimesisolated facts preserved to us in the Scriptures and other ancientwritings. Of all the works, in which the progress and results of thesediscoveries have been made known, not one has been reproduced or madegenerally accessible in this country. The scholar who would becomeacquainted with them, and make them his own, must still have recourse tothe Old World. 

"The work of Mr. Layard brings before us still another step of progress. Here we have not to do, with the hoary ruins that have borne the bruntof centuries in the presence of the world, but with a resurrection ofthe monuments themselves. It is the disentombing of temple-palaces fromthe sepulchre of ages; the recovery of the metropolis of a powerfulnation from the long night of oblivion. Nineveh, the great city 'ofthree days' journey, ' that was 'laid waste, and there was none to bemoanher, ' whose greatness sank when that of Rome had just begun to rise, nowstands forth again to testify to her own splendor, and to thecivilization, and power, and magnificence of the Assyrian Empire. Thismay be said, thus far, to be the crowning historical discovery of thenineteenth century. But the century as yet, is only half elapsed. 

"Nineveh was destroyed in the year 606 before Christ; less than 150years after Rome was founded. Her latest monuments, therefore, date backnot less than five-and-twenty centuries; while the foundation of herearliest is lost in an unknown antiquity. When the ten thousand Greeksmarched over this plain in their celebrated retreat, (404 B. C. ) theyfound in one part, a ruined city called Larissa; and in connection withit, Xenophon, their leader and historian, describes what is now thepyramid of Nimroud. But he heard not the name of Nineveh; it was alreadyforgotten in its site; though it appears again in the later Greek andRoman writers. Even at that time, the widely extended walls and rampartsof Nineveh had perished, and mounds, covering magnificent palaces, aloneremained at the extremities of the ancient city, or in its vicinity, much as at the present day. 

"Of the site of Nineveh, there is scarcely a further mention, beyond thebrief notices by Benjamin of Tudela and Abulfeda, until Niebuhr saw itand described its mounds nearly a century ago. In 1820, Mr. Rich visitedthe spot; he obtained a few square sun-dried bricks with inscriptions, and some other slight remains; and we can all remember the profoundimpression made upon the public mind, even by these cursory memorials ofNineveh and Babylon. "

DESCRIPTION OF A PALACE EXHUMED AT NIMROUD. 

"During the winter, Mr. Longworth, and two other English travelers, visited me at Nimroud. As they were the only Europeans, (except Mr. Ross) who saw the palace when uncovered, it may be interesting to thereader to learn the impression which the ruins were calculated to makeupon those who beheld them for the first time, and to whom the scene wasconsequently new. Mr. Longworth, in a letter, thus graphically describeshis visit:--

 "'I took the opportunity, whilst at Mosul, of visiting the excavations of Nimroud. But before I attempt to give a short account of them, I may as well say a few words as to the general impression which these wonderful remains made upon me, on my first visit to them. I should begin by stating, that they are all under ground. To get at them, Mr. Layard has excavated the earth to the depth of twelve to fifteen feet, where he has come to a building composed of slabs of marble. In this place, which forms the northwest angle of the mound, he has fallen upon the interior of a large palace, consisting of a labyrinth of halls, chambers, and galleries, the walls of which are covered with bas-reliefs and inscriptions in the cuneiform character, all in excellent preservation. The upper part of the walls, which was of brick, painted with flowers, &c, in the brightest colors, and the roofs, which were of wood, have fallen; but fragments of them are strewed about in every direction. The time of day when I first descended into these chambers happened to be towards evening; the shades of which, no doubt, added to the awe and mystery of the surrounding objects. It was of course with no little excitement that I suddenly found myself in the magnificent abode of the old Assyrian Kings; where, moreover, it needed not the slightest effort of imagination to conjure up visions of their long departed power and greatness. The walls themselves were covered with phantoms of the past; in the words of Byron, 'Three thousand years their cloudy wings expand, ' unfolding to view a vivid representation of those who conquered and possessed so large a portion of the earth we now inhabit. There they were, in the Oriental pomp of richly embroidered robes, and quaintly-artificial coiffure. There also were portrayed their deeds in peace and war, their audiences, battles, sieges, lion-hunts, &c. My mind was overpowered by the contemplation of so many strange objects; and some of them, the portly forms of kings and vizirs, were so life-like, and carved in such fine relief, that they might almost be imagined to be stepping from the walls to question the rash intruder on their privacy. Then mingled with them were other monstrous shapes--the old Assyrian deities, with human bodies, long drooping wings, and the heads and beaks of eagles; or, still faithfully guarding the portals of the deserted halls, the colossal forms of winged lions and bulls, with gigantic human faces. All these figures, the idols of a religion long since dead and buried like themselves, seemed in the twilight to be actually raising their desecrated heads from the sleep of centuries; certainly the feeling of awe which they inspired me with, must have been something akin to that experienced by their heathen votaries of old. '--_Layard's Nineveh and its Remains_, vol. I. P. 298. 

"The interior of the Assyrian palace must have been as magnificent asimposing. I have led the reader through its ruins, and he may judge ofthe impression its halls were calculated to make upon the stranger who, in the days of old, entered for the first time into the abode of theAssyrian Kings. He was ushered in through the portal guarded by thecolossal lions or bulls of white alabaster. In the first hall he foundhimself surrounded by the sculptured records of the empire. Battles, sieges, triumphs, the exploits of the chase, the ceremonies of religion, were portrayed on the walls, sculptured in alabaster, and painted ingorgeous colors. Under each picture were engraved, in characters filledup with bright copper, inscriptions describing the scenes represented. Above the sculptures were painted other events--the king attended by hiseunuchs and warriors, receiving his prisoners, entering into allianceswith other monarchs, or performing some sacred duty. Theserepresentations were enclosed in colored borders, of elaborate andelegant design. The emblematic tree, winged bulls, and monstrousanimals were conspicuous among the ornaments. 

"At the upper end of the hall was the colossal figure of the king inadoration before the supreme deity, or receiving from his eunuch theholy cup. He was attended by warriors bearing his arms, and by thepriests or presiding divinities. His robes, and those of his followers, were adorned with groups of figures, animals, and flowers, all paintedwith brilliant colors. The stranger trod upon the alabaster slabs, eachbearing an inscription, recording the titles, genealogy, andachievements of the great King. --Several door-ways, formed by giganticwinged lions or bulls, or by the figures of guardian deities, led intoother apartments, which again opened into more distant halls. In eachwere new sculptures. On the walls of some were processions of colossalfigures--armed men and eunuchs following the king, warriors laden withspoil, leading prisoners, or bearing presents and offerings to the gods. On the walls of others were portrayed the winged priests, or presidingdivinities, standing before the sacred trees. 

"The ceilings above him were divided into square compartments, paintedwith flowers, or with the figures of animals. Some were inlaid withivory, each compartment being surrounded by elegant borders andmouldings. The beams as well as the sides of the chambers, may have beengilded, or even plated, with gold and silver; and the rarest woods, inwhich the cedar was conspicuous, were used for the wood work. Squareopenings in the ceilings of the chambers admitted the light of day. Apleasing shadow was thrown over the sculptured walls, and gave amajestic expression to the human features of the colossal figures whichguarded the entrances. Through these apertures was seen the bright blueof an eastern sky, enclosed in a frame on which were painted, in variedcolors, the winged circle, in the midst of elegant ornaments, and thegraceful forms of ideal animals. 

"These edifices, as it has been shown, were great national monuments, upon the walls of which were represented in sculpture, or inscribed inalphabetic characters, the chronicles of the empire. He who entered themmight thus read the history, and learn the glory and triumphs of thenation. They served at the same time to bring continually to theremembrance of those who assembled within them on festive occasions, orfor the celebration of religious ceremonies, the deeds of theirancestors, and the power and majesty of their gods. "--_Layard's Ninevehand its Remains_, vol. II. P 262. 

ORIGIN AND ANTIQUITY OF THE ARCH. 

The origin of the Arch is very uncertain. It was unknown to theEgyptians, for their chambers were roofed with long flat stones, andsometimes the upper layers of stones form projections, so as to diminishthe roof surface. It is also supposed that it was unknown to theGreeks, when they constructed their most beautiful temples, in the 5th, 4th, and 3d centuries B. C. , as no structure answering to the truecharacter of the Arch has been found in any of these works. Minutoli hasgiven specimens of arches at Thebes; circular, and formed of fourcourses of bricks, and it is maintained that these belonged to a veryancient period, long before the Greek occupancy of that country. TheMacedonians were a civilized people long before the rest of the Greeks, and were, in fact, their instructors; but the Greeks afterwards so farexcelled them that they regarded them as barbarians. Some say thatEtruria was the true birth-place of the Arch; it was doubtless from themthat the Romans learned its use. Tarquinius Priscus conquered theEtrurians, and he it was who first introduced and employed the Arch inthe construction of the cloacæ, or sewers of Rome. The _cloaca maxima_, or principal branch, received numerous other branches between theCapitoline, Palatine, and Quirinal hills. It is formed of threeconsecutive rows of large stones piled above each other without cement, and has stood nearly 2, 500 years, surviving without injury theearthquakes and other convulsions that have thrown down temples, palaces, and churches of the superincumbent city. From the time ofTarquin, the Arch was in general use among the Romans in theconstruction of aqueducts, public edifices, bridges, &c. The Chineseunderstood the use of the Arch in the most remote times, and in suchperfection as to enable them to bridge large streams with a single span. Mr. Layard has shown that the Ninevites knew its use at least 3000 yearsago; he not only discovered a vaulted chamber, but that "archedgate-ways are continually represented in the bas-reliefs. " DiodorusSiculus relates that the tunnel from the Euphrates at Babylon, ascribedto Semiramis, was vaulted. There are vaults under the site of the templeat Jerusalem, which are generally considered as ancient as that edifice, but some think them to have been of more recent construction, as theysuppose the Jews were ignorant of the Arch; but it is evident that itwas well known in the neighboring countries before the Jewish exile, andat least seven or eight centuries before the time of Herod. It seemshighly probable, that the Arch was discovered by several nations in veryremote times. 

ANTIQUITIES OF HERCULANEUM, POMPEII, AND STABIÆ. 

The city of Herculaneum, distant about 11, 000 paces from Naples, was socompletely buried by a stream of lava and a shower of ashes from thefirst known eruption of Vesuvius, during the reign of Titus, A. D. 79, that its site was unknown for many ages. The neighboring city ofPompeii, on the river Sarno, one of the most populous and flourishingtowns on the coast, as well as Stabiæ, Oplontia, and Teglanum, experienced the same fate. Earlier excavations had already beenforgotten, when three female figures, (now in the Dresden Gallery) werediscovered while some workmen were digging a well for Prince Elbeuf atPortici, a village situated on the site of ancient Herculaneum. In 1738the well was dug deeper, and the theatre of Herculaneum was firstdiscovered. In 1750, Pompeii and Stabiæ were explored; the former placebeing covered with ashes rather than lava, was more easily examined. Here was discovered the extensive remains of an amphitheatre. In thecellar of a villa twenty-seven female skeletons were found withornaments for the neck and arms; lying around, near the lower door ofanother villa, two skeletons were found, one of which held a key in onehand, and in the other a bag of coins and some cameos, and near themwere several beautiful silver and bronze vessels. It is probable, however, that most of the inhabitants of this city had time to savethemselves by flight, as comparatively few bodies have been found. Theexcavations since the discovery, have been continued by the government, up to the present time, with more or less interruptions. For theantiquary and the archæologist, antiquity seems here to revive andawaken the sensations which Schiller has so beautifully described in hispoem of Pompeii and Herculaneum. The ancient streets and buildings areagain thrown open, and in them we see, as it were, the domestic life ofthe ancient Romans. We had never before such an opportunity of becomingacquainted with the disposition of their houses, and of their utensils. Whole streets, with magnificent temples, theatres, and private mansions, have been disentombed. Multitudes of statues, bas-reliefs, and othersculptures have been found in these buried cities; also many frescopaintings, the most remarkable of which are Andromeda and Perseus, Dianaand Endymion, the Education of Bacchus, the Battle of Platea, &c. In onesplendid mansion were discovered several pictures, representingPolyphemus and Galatea, Hercules and the three Hesperdies, Cupid and aBacchante, Mercury and Io, Perseus killing Medusa, and other subjects. There were also in the store rooms of the same house, evidentlybelonging to a very rich family, an abundance of provisions, laid in forthe winter, consisting of dates, figs, prunes, various kinds of nuts, hams, pies, corn, oil, peas, lentils, &c. There were also in the samehouse, vases, articles of glass, bronze, and terra-cotta, severalmedallions in silver, on one of which was represented in relief, Apolloand Diana. A great treasure of ancient books or manuscripts, consistingof papyrus rolls, has also been discovered, which has excited thegreatest curiosity of the learned, in the hope of regaining some of thelost works of ancient writers; but though some valuable literary remainsof Grecian and Roman antiquity have been more or less completelyrestored, the greater part remain yet untouched, no effectual meanshaving been discovered by which the manuscripts could be unrolled anddeciphered, owing to their charred and decomposed state. 

The following vivid sketch of the present appearance of these devotedcities, is from the pen of an American traveler:--

"In the grounds of the Royal Palace at Portici, which are extensive, there is a small fortress, with its angles, its bastions, counter-scarps, and all the geometrical technicalities of Vauban, inminiature. It was erected by Charles III. , for the instruction, orperhaps more correctly speaking, the amusement of his sons. The gardenon the front of the palace next to the bay, is enchanting. Here, amidststatues, refreshing fountains, and the most luxurious foliage, the vine, the orange, the fig, in short, surrounded by all the poetry of life, onemay while 'the sultry hours away, ' till the senses, yielding to thevoluptuous charm, unfit one for the sober realities of a busy world. 

"The towns of Portici and Resinia, which are in fact united, are verypopulous. The shops, at the season of my visit, Christmas, particularlythose where eatables were sold, exhibited a very gay appearance; andgilt hams, gilt cheese, festoons of gilt sausages, intermixed withevergreens, and fringes of maccaroni, illuminated Virgin Marys, andgingerbread Holy Families, divided the attention of the stranger, withthe motley crowds in all the gay variety of Neapolitan costume. At thedepth of seventy or eighty feet beneath these crowded haunts of busymen, lies buried, in a solid mass of hard volcanic matter, the oncesplendid city of Herculaneum, which was overthrown in the first centuryof the Christian era, by a terrible eruption of Vesuvius. It wasdiscovered about the commencement of the last century, by the digging ofa well immediately over the theatre. For many years the excavations werecarried on with spirit; and the forum, theatres, porticos, and splendidmansions, were successively exposed, and a great number of the finestbronzes, marble statues, busts, &c. , which now delight the visitor tothe Museum at Naples, were among the fruits of these labors. Unfortunately, the parts excavated, upon the removal of the objects ofart discovered, were immediately filled up in lieu of pillars, orsupports to the superincumbent mass being erected. As the work ofdisentombment had long since ceased, nothing remained to be seen butpart of the theatre, the descent to which is by a staircase made for thepurpose. By the light of a torch, carried by the _custode_, I saw theorchestra, proscenium, consular seats, as well as part of the corridors, all stripped, however, of the marbles and paintings which once adornedthem. I was shewn the spot where the celebrated manuscripts were found. The reflection that this theatre had held its ten thousand spectators, and that it then lay, with the city of which it was an ornament, sohorribly engulphed, gave rise to feelings in awful contrast to thoseexcited by the elysium of Portici almost immediately above. About sevenmiles further along the base of the mountain, lies the long lost city ofPompeii. The road passes through, or rather over Torre del Greco, a townalmost totally destroyed by the eruption in 1794. The whole surface ofthe country for some distance is laid waste by the river of lava, whichflowed in a stream or body, of twenty feet in depth, destroyed in itscourse vineyards, cottages, and everything combustible, consumed andnearly overwhelmed the town, and at last poured into the sea, where asit cooled, it formed a rugged termination or promontory of considerableheight. The surface of this mass presented a rocky and sterile aspect, strongly opposed to the exuberance of vegetation in the more fortunateneighborhood. Passing through Torre del Annunziata, a populous village, the street of which was literally lined with maccaroni hanging to dry, Isoon reached Pompeii. Between these last mentioned places, I noticed atthe corner of a road a few dwellings, upon the principal of which, anInn, was inscribed in formidable looking letters, GIOACHINOPOLI. Puzzledat the moment, I inquired what this great word related to, when lo, Iwas told that I was now in the city of Gioachinopoli, so called incompliment to the reigning sovereign, Gioachino Murat, the terminationbeing added in imitation of the emperor Constantine, who gave his nameto the ancient Byzantium!

"Although suffering a similar fate with the sister city Herculaneum, themanner of the destruction of Pompeii was essentially different, forwhile the former lies imbedded at a great depth in solid matter, likemortar or cement, the latter is merely covered with a stratum ofvolcanic ashes, the surface of which being partly decomposed by theatmosphere, affords a rich soil for the extensive vineyards which arespread over its surface. No scene on earth can vie in melancholyinterest with that presented to the spectator on entering the streets ofthe disinterred city of Pompeii. On passing through a wooden enclosure, I suddenly found myself in a long and handsome street, bordered by rowsof tombs, of various dimensions and designs, from the simple cippus oraltar, bearing the touching appeal of _siste viator_, stop traveler, tothe Patrician mausoleum with its long inscription. Many of these latteryet contain the urns in which the ashes of the dead were deposited. Several large semicircular stone seats mark where the ancient Pompeianshad their evening chat, and no doubt debated upon the politics of theday. Approaching the massive walls, which are about thirty feet high andvery thick, and entering by a handsome stone arch, called theHerculaneum gate, from the road leading to that city, I beheld a vistaof houses or shops, and except that they were roofless, just as if theyhad been occupied but yesterday, although near eighteen centuries havepassed away since the awful calamity which sealed the fate of theirinhabitants. The facilities for excavation being great, both on accountof the lightness of the material and the little depth of the mass, muchof the city has been exposed to view. Street succeeds street in variousdirections, and porticos, theatres, temples, magazines, shops, andprivate mansions, all remain to attest the mixture of elegance andmeanness of Pompeii; and we can, from an inspection, not only form amost correct idea of the customs and tastes of the ancient inhabitants, but are thereby the better enabled to judge of those of contemporarycities, and learn to qualify the accounts of many of the ancient writersthemselves. 

"Pompeii is so perfectly unique in its kind, that I flatter myself arather minute description of the state in which I saw it, will not beuninteresting. The streets, with the exception of the principal one, which is about thirty-three feet wide, are very narrow. They are pavedwith blocks of lava, and have raised side-walks for pedestrians, thingsvery rare in modern Europe. At the corners of the streets are fountains, and also stepping-stones for crossing. The furrows worn by the carriagewheels are strongly marked, and are not more than forty-four inchesapart, thus giving us the width of their vehicles. 

"The houses in general are built with small red bricks, or with volcanicmatter from Vesuvius, and are only one or two stories high. The marblecounters remain in many of the stores, and the numbers, names of theoccupiers, and their occupations, still appear in red letters on theoutside. The names of Julius, Marius, Lucius, and many others, onlyfamiliar to us through the medium of our classic studies, and fraughtwith heroic ideas, we here see associated with the retailing of oil, olives, bread, apothecaries' wares, and nearly all the various articlesusually found in the trading part of Italian cities even at the presentday. All the trades, followed in these various edifices, were likewisedistinctly marked by the utensils found in them; but the greater part ofthese, as discovered, were removed for their better preservation to thegreat Museum at Naples; a measure perhaps indispensable, but whichdetracts in some degree from the local interest. We see, however, in themagazine of the oil merchant, his jars in perfect order, in thebakehouse are the hand mills in their original places, and of adescription which exactly tallies with those alluded to in holy writ;the ovens scarcely want repairs; where a sculptor worked, there we findhis marbles and his productions, in various states of forwardness, justas he left them. 

"The mansions of the higher classes are planned to suit the deliciousclimate in which they are situated, and are finished with great taste. They generally have an open court in the centre, in which is a fountain. The floors are of mosaic. The walls and ceilings are beautifullypainted or stuccoed and statues, tripods, and other works of art, embellished the galleries and apartments. The kitchens do not appear tohave been neglected by the artists who decorated the buildings, andalthough the painting is of a coarser description than in other parts ofthe edifices, the designs are in perfect keeping with the plan. Trussedfowls, hams, festoons of sausages, together with the representations ofsome of the more common culinary utensils, among which I noticed thegridiron, still adorn the walls. In some of the cellars skeletons werefound, supposed to be those of the inmates who had taken refuge from theshower of ashes, and had there found their graves, while the bulk oftheir fellow citizens escaped. In one vault, the remains of sixteenhuman beings were discovered, and from the circumstance of some valuablerings and a quantity of money being found with the bones, it isconcluded that the master of the house was among the sufferers. In thisvault or cellar I saw a number of earthen jars, called Amphoræ, placedagainst the wall. These, which once held the purple juice, perhaps theproduce of favorite vintages, were now filled to the brim with ashes. Many of the public edifices are large, and have been magnificent. Theamphitheatre, which is oval, upon the plan of that at Verona, wouldcontain above ten thousand spectators. This majestic edifice wasdisentombed by the French, to whose taste and activity, during theirrule in Italy, particularly in the district of Naples, every lover ofthe arts stands indebted. I had the good fortune to be present at theclearing of a part of the arena of this colossal erection, and witnessedthe disclosure of paintings which had not seen the light for aboveseventeen hundred years. They were executed in what is termed _fresco_, a process of coloring on wet plaster, but which, after it becomes hard, almost defies the effects of time. The subjects of those I allude towere nymphs, and the coloring of the draperies, in some instances, wasas fresh as if just applied. 

"Not far distant from the amphitheatre are two semicircular theatres, one of which is supposed to have been appropriated to tragedy and theother to comedy. The first mentioned is large, and built of stone, or asubstance called _tufo_, covered with marble. It had no roof. TheProscenium and Orchestra remain. The stage, or rather the place where itwas, is of considerable width, but so very shallow that stage effect, asregards scenery, could not have been much studied, nor indeed did thedramas of the ancients require it. The comic theatre is small, andnearly perfect. It appears to have had a roof or covering. These twotheatres are close together. Of the public edifices discovered, theTemple of Isis is one of the most interesting. It is of brick, butcoated with a hard and polished stucco. The altars for sacrifice remainunmolested. A hollow pedestal or altar yet exists, from which oracleswere once delivered to the credulous multitude, and we behold thesecret stairs by which the priests descended to perform the office. Inthe chamber of this Temple, which may have been a refectory, were foundsome of the remains of eatables, which are now in the museum. Irecollect noticing egg-shells, bread, with the maker's name or initialsstamped thereon, bones, corn, and other articles, all burnt black, butperfect in form. The Temple of Hercules, as it is denominated, is aruin, not one of its massive fragments being left upon another. It wasof the Doric order of architecture, and is known to have sufferedseverely by an earthquake some years before the fatal eruption. Not farfrom this temple is an extensive court or forum, where the soldiersappear to have had their quarters. In what has evidently been a prison, is an iron frame, like the modern implements of punishment, the stocks, and in this frame the skeletons of some unfortunate culprits were found. On the walls of what are called the soldiers' quarters, from thehelmets, shields, and pieces of armor which have been found there, arescrawled names and rude devices, just as we find on the walls of thebuildings appropriated to the same purpose in the present day. At thispoint of the city, travelers who have entered at the other, usually maketheir exit. The scene possessed far too great an interest, however, inmy eyes, to be hastily passed over, and on more than one visit, Ilingered among the deserted thresholds, until the moon had thrown herchaste light upon this city of the dead. The feelings excited by aperambulation of Pompeii, especially at such an hour, are beyond thepower of my pen to describe. To behold her streets once thronged withthe busy crowd, to tread the forum where sages met and discoursed, toenter the theatres once filled with delighted thousands, and the templeswhence incense arose, to visit the mansions of the opulent which hadresounded with the shouts of revelry, and the humbler dwellings of theartisan, where he had plied his noisy trade, in the language of anelegant writer and philosopher, to behold all these, now tenantless, andsilent as the grave, elevates the heart with a series of sublimemeditations. "

ANCIENT FRESCO AND MOSAIC PAINTING. 

The ancients well understood the arts of painting both in fresco andmosaic, as is evinced by the discoveries made at Rome, but moreespecially at Pompeii. The most remarkable pictures discovered atPompeii have been sawed from the walls, and deposited in the RoyalMuseums at Naples and Portici, for their preservation. Not only mosaicfloors and pavements are numerous in the mansions of the wealthy atPompeii, but some walls are decorated with pictures in mosaic. 

MOSAIC OF THE BATTLE OF PLATÆA. 

A grand mosaic, representing as some say the Battle of Platæa, andothers, with more probability one of the victories of Alexander, is nowin the Academy at Naples. It was discovered at Pompeii, and covered thewhole side of the apartment where it was found. This great work is theadmiration of connoisseurs and the learned, not only for its antiquity, but for the beauty of its execution. The most probable supposition is, that it is a copy of the celebrated Victory of Arbela, painted byPhiloxenes, and described by Pliny as one of the most remarkable worksof antiquity, with whose description the mosaic accords. 

THE ALDOBRANDINI WEDDING. 

This famous antique fresco was discovered in the time of Clement VIII. , not far from the church of S. Maria Maggiore, in the place where werethe gardens of Mæcenas. It was carried from thence into the villa of theprincely house of the Aldobrandini; hence its name. It is verybeautifully executed, and evidently intended to represent or celebrate awedding. Winckelmann supposes it to be the wedding of Peleus and Thetis;the Count Bondi, that of Manlius and Julia. 

THE PORTLAND VASE. 

The most celebrated antique vase is that which, during more than twocenturies, was the principal ornament of the Barberini Palace, and whichis now known as the Portland Vase. It was found about the middle of the16th century, enclosed in a marble sarcophagus within a sepulchralchamber under Monte del Grano, two miles and a half from Rome, supposedto have been the tomb of Alexander Severus, who died in the year 235. Itis ornamented with white opaque figures in bas-relief, upon a dark bluetransparent ground; the subject of which has not hitherto received asatisfactory elucidation, though it is supposed to represent theEleusinian Mysteries; but the design, and more particularly theexecution, are truly admirable. The whole of the blue ground, or atleast the part below the handles, must have been originally covered withwhite enamel, out of which the figures have been sculptured in the styleof a cameo, with most astonishing skill and labor. This beautiful Vaseis sufficient to prove that the manufacture of glass was carried to astate of high perfection by the ancients. It was purchased by theDuchess of Portland for 1000 guineas, and presented to the BritishMuseum in 1810. 

The subterranean ruins of Herculaneum afforded many specimens of theglass manufacture of the ancients: a great variety of phials and bottleswere found, and these were chiefly of an elongate shape, composed ofglass of unequal thickness, of a green color, and much heavier thancommon glass; of these the four large cinerary urns in the BritishMuseum are very fine specimens. They are of an elegant round figure, with covers, and two double handles, the formation of which mustconvince persons capable of appreciating the difficulties which eventhe modern glass-maker would have in executing similar handles, that theancients were well acquainted with the art of making round glassvessels; although their knowledge appears to have been extremely limitedas respects the manufacture of square vessels, and more particularly ofoval, octagonal, or pentagonal forms. Among a great number oflachrymatories and various other vessels in the British Museum, there isa small square bottle with a handle, the rudeness of which sufficientlybears out this opinion. 

ANCIENT PICTURES OF GLASS. 

A most singular art of forming pictures with colored glass seems to havebeen practiced by the ancients, which consisted in laying togetherfibres of glass of various colors, fitted to each other with the utmostexactness, so that a section across the fibres represented the object tobe painted, and then cementing them into a homogeneous mass. In somespecimens of this art which were discovered about the middle of the 18thcentury, the painting has on both sides a granular appearance, and seemsto have been formed in the manner of mosaic work; but the pieces are soaccurately united, that not even with the aid of a powerful magnifyingglass can the junctures be discovered. One plate, described byWinckelmann, exhibits a Duck of various colors, the outlines of whichare sharp and well-defined, the colors pure and vivid, and a brillianteffect is obtained by the artist having employed in some parts anopaque, and in others a transparent glass. The picture seems to becontinued throughout the whole thickness of the specimen, as the reversecorresponds in the minutest points to the face; so that, were it to becut transversely, the same picture of the Duck would be exhibited inevery section. It is conjectured that this curious process was the firstattempt of the ancients to preserve colors by fusing them into theinternal part of glass, which was, however, but partially done, as thesurfaces have not been preserved from the action of the atmosphere. 

HENRY FUSELI--HIS BIRTH. 

This eminent historical painter, and very extraordinary man, was born atZurich, in Switzerland, in 1741, according to all accounts save his own;but he himself placed it in 1745, without adding the day or month. Healways spoke of his age with reluctance. Once, when pressed about it, hepeevishly exclaimed, "How should I know? I was born in February orMarch--it was some cursed cold month, as you may guess from mydiminutive stature and crabbed disposition. " He was the son of thepainter, John Caspar Fuseli, and the second of eighteen children. 

FUSELI'S EARLY LOVE OF ART. 

During his school-boy days, as soon as released from his class, he wasaccustomed to withdraw to a secret place to enjoy unmolested the worksof Michael Angelo, of whose prints his father had a fine collection. Heloved when he grew old to talk of those days of his youth, of theenthusiasm with which he surveyed the works of his favorite masters, andthe secret pleasure which he took in acquiring forbidden knowledge. Withcandles which he stole from the kitchen, and pencils which hispocket-money was hoarded to procure, he pursued his studies till late atnight, and made many copies from Michael Angelo and Raffaelle, by whichhe became familiar thus early with the style and ruling character of thetwo greatest masters of the art. 

FUSELI'S LITERARY AND POETICAL TASTE. 

He early manifested strong powers of mind, and with a two-fold taste forliterature and art, he was placed in Humanity College at Zurich, ofwhich two distinguished men, Bodmer and Breitenger, were professors. Here he became the bosom companion of that amiable enthusiast, Lavater, studied English, and conceived such a love for the works of Shakspeare, that he translated Macbeth into German. The writings of Wieland andKlopstock influenced his youthful fancy, and from Shakspeare he extendedhis affection to the chief masters in English literature. His love ofpoetry was natural, not affected--he practiced at an early age the artwhich he admired through life, and some of his first attempts atcomposition were pieces in his native language, which made his nameknown in Zurich. 

FUSELI, LAVATER, AND THE UNJUST MAGISTRATE. 

In conjunction with his friend Lavater, Fuseli composed a pamphletagainst a ruler in one of the bailiwicks, who had abused his powers, andperhaps personally insulted the two friends. The peasantry, it seems, conceiving themselves oppressed by their superior, complained andpetitioned; the petitions were read by young Fuseli and his companion, who, stung with indignation at the tale of tyranny disclosed, expressedtheir feelings in a satire, which made a great stir in the city. Threatswere publicly used against the authors, who were guessed at, but notknown; upon which they distributed placards in every direction, offeringto prove before a tribunal the accusations they had made. Nay, Fuseliactually appeared before the magistrates--named the offenderboldly--arraigned him with great vehemence and eloquence, and wasapplauded by all and answered by none. Pamphlets and accusations wereprobably uncommon things in Zurich; in some other countries they wouldhave dropped from the author's hands harmless or unheeded; but theunited labors of Fuseli and Lavater drove the unjust magistrate intoexile, and procured remuneration to those who had suffered. 

FUSELI'S TRAVELS, AND HIS LITERARY DISTINCTION. 

Fuseli early gained a reputation for scholarship, poetry, and painting. He possessed such extraordinary powers of memory, that when he read abook once, he thoroughly comprehended its contents; and he not onlywrote in Latin and Greek, but spoke them with the fluency of his nativetongue. He acquired such a perfect knowledge of the several modernlanguages of Europe, especially of the English, French, and Italian, that it was indifferent to him which he spoke or wrote, except that whenhe wished to express himself with most power, he said he preferred theGerman. After having obtained the degree of Master of Arts from thecollege at Zurich, Fuseli bade farewell to his father's house, andtraveled in company with Lavater to Berlin, where he placed himselfunder the care of Sulzer, author of the "Lexicon of the Fine Arts. " Histalents and learning obtained him the friendship of severaldistinguished men, and his acquaintance with English poetry inducedProfessor Sulzer to select him as one well qualified for opening acommunication between the literature of Germany and that of England. SirAndrew Mitchell, British ambassador at the Prussian court, wasconsulted; and pleased with his lively genius, and his translations anddrawings from Macbeth and Lear, he received Fuseli with much kindness, and advised him to visit Britain. Lavater, who till now had continuedhis companion, presented him at parting with a card, on which he hadinscribed in German. "Do but the tenth part of what you can do. " "Hangthat up in your bed-head, " said the physiognomist, "obey it--and fameand fortune will be the result. "

FUSELI'S ARRIVAL IN LONDON. 

Fuseli arrived in the capital of the British Empire early one morning, before the people were stirring. "When I stood in London, " said he, "andconsidered that I did not know one soul in all this vast metropolis, Ibecame suddenly impressed with a sense of forlornness, and burst into aflood of tears. An incident restored me. I had written a long letter tomy father, giving him an account of my voyage, and expressing my filialaffection--now not weakened by distance--and with this letter in myhand, I inquired of a rude fellow whom I met, the way to the PostOffice. My foreign accent provoked him to laughter, and as I stoodcursing him in good Shaksperian English, a gentleman kindly directed meto the object of my inquiry. "

FUSELI'S CHANGE FROM LITERATURE TO PAINTING. 

Fuseli's wit, learning, and talents gained him early admission to thecompany of wealthy and distinguished men. He devoted himself for aconsiderable time after his arrival in London to the daily toils ofliterature--translations, essays, and critiques. Among other works, hetranslated Winckelmann's book on Painting and Sculpture. One dayBonnycastle said to him, after dinner, "Fuseli, you can write well, --why don't you write something?"

"Something!" exclaimed the other; "you always cry write--Fuseliwrite!--blastation! what shall I write?"

"Write, " said Armstrong, who was present, "write on the Voltaire andRousseau _Row_--_there_ is a subject!"

He said nothing, but went home and began to write. His enthusiastictemper spurred him on, so that he composed his essay with uncommonrapidity. He printed it forthwith; but the whole edition caught fire andwas consumed! "It had, " says one of his friends, "a short life and abright ending. "

While busied with his translations and other literary labors, he had notforgotten his early attachment to Art. He found his way to the studio ofSir Joshua Reynolds, and submitted several of his drawings to thePresident's examination, who looked at them for some time, and thensaid, "How long have you studied in Italy?" "I never studied in Italy--Istudied at Zurich--I am a native of Switzerland--do you think I shouldstudy in Italy?--and, above all, is it worth while?" "Young man, " saidReynolds, "were I the author of these drawings, and were offered tenthousand a year _not_ to practice as an artist, I would reject theproposal with contempt. " This very favorable opinion from one whoconsidered all he said, and was so remarkable for accuracy of judgment, decided the destiny of Fuseli; he forsook for ever the hard andthankless _trade_ of literature--refused a living in the church fromsome patron who had been struck with his talents--and addressed himselfto painting with heart and hand. 

FUSELI'S SOJOURN IN ITALY. 

No sooner had Fuseli formed the resolution of devoting his talents topainting, in 1770, than he determined to visit Rome. He resided in Italyeight years, and studied with great assiduity the pictures in thenumerous galleries, particularly the productions of Michael Angelo, whose fine and bold imagination, and the lofty grandeur of his works, were most congenial to his taste. It was a story which he loved to tellin after life, how he lay on his back day after day, and week afterweek, with upturned and wondering eyes, musing on the splendid ceilingof the Sistine chapel--on the unattainable grandeur of the greatFlorentine. During his residence abroad, he made notes and criticisms oneverything he met with that was excellent, much of which he subsequentlyembodied in his lectures before the Royal Academy. His talents, acquirements, and his great conversational powers made his societycourted; and he formed some valuable acquaintances at Rome, particularly among the English nobility and gentry, who flocked therefor amusement, and who heralded his fame at home. He also sent some ofhis choice drawings, illustrating Shakspeare and Milton, to the annualexhibitions of the Royal Academy. In 1778, he left Italy and returned toEngland, passing through Switzerland and his native city. 

FUSELI'S "NIGHTMARE. "

Soon after his return to England, Fuseli painted his "Nightmare, " whichwas exhibited in 1782. It was unquestionably the work of an originalmind. "The extraordinary and peculiar genius which it displayed, " saysone of his biographers, "was universally felt, and perhaps no singlepicture ever made a greater impression in this country. A very finemezzotinto engraving of it was scraped by Raphael Smith, and so populardid the print become, that, although Mr. Fuseli received only twentyguineas for the picture, the publisher made five hundred by hisspeculation. " This was a subject suitable to the unbridled fancy of thepainter, and perhaps to no other imagination has the Fiend which murdersour sleep ever appeared in a more poetical shape. 

FUSELI'S "OEDIPUS AND HIS DAUGHTERS. "

This picture was a work of far higher order than his "Nightmare, "although the latter caught the public fancy most. It is distinguishedby singular power, full of feeling and terror. The desolate old man isseated on the ground, and his whole frame seems inspired with apresentiment of the coming vengeance of heaven. His daughters areclasping him wildly, and the sky seems mustering the thunder and fire inwhich the tragic bard has made him disappear. "Pray, sir, what is thatold man afraid of?" said some one to Fuseli, when the picture wasexhibited. "Afraid, sir, " exclaimed the painter, "why, afraid of goingto hell!"

FUSELI AND THE SHAKSPEARE GALLERY. 

His rising fame, his poetic feeling, his great knowledge, and hisgreater confidence, now induced Fuseli to commence an undertaking worthyof the highest genius--the Shakspeare Gallery. An accidentalconversation at the table of the nephew of Alderman Boydell, started, asit is said, the idea; and West, Romney, and Hayley shared with Fuseli inthe honor. But to the mind of the latter, such a scheme had been longpresent; it dawned on his fancy in Rome, even as he lay on his backmarveling in the Sistine, and he saw in imagination a long and shadowysuccession of pictures. He figured to himself a magnificent temple, andfilled it, as the illustrious artists of Italy did the Sistine, withpictures from his favorite poet. All was arranged according tocharacter. In the panels and accessories were the figures of the chiefheroes and heroines--on the extensive walls were delineated the changesof many-colored life, the ludicrous and the sad--the pathetic and thehumorous--domestic happiness and heroic aspirations--while the domewhich crowned the whole exhibited scenes of higher emotion--the joys ofheaven--the agonies of hell--all that was supernatural and all that wasterrible. This splendid piece of imagination was cut down to workingdimensions by the practiced hands of Boydell, who supported the schemeanxiously and effectually. On receiving £500 Reynolds entered, thoughwith reluctance, into an undertaking which consumed time and requiredmuch thought; but Fuseli had no rich commissions in the way--his heartwas with the subject--in his own fancy he had already commenced thework, and the enthusiastic alderman found a more enthusiastic painter, who made no preliminary stipulations, but prepared his palette andbegan. 

FUSELI'S "HAMLET'S GHOST. "

This wonderful work, engraved for Boydell's Shakspeare Gallery, isesteemed among the best of Fuseli's works. It is, indeed, strangely wildand superhuman--if ever a Spirit visited earth, it must have appeared toFuseli. The "majesty of buried Denmark" is no vulgar ghost such asscares the belated rustic, but a sad and majestic shape with the port ofa god; to imagine this, required poetry, and in that our artist wasnever deficient. He had fine taste in matters of high import; he drewthe boundary line between the terrible and the horrible, and he neverpassed it; the former he knew was allied to grandeur, the latter todeformity and disgust. An eminent metaphysician visited the gallerybefore the public exhibition; he saw the Hamlet's Ghost of Fuseli, andexclaimed, like Burns' rustic in Halloween, "Lord, preserve me!" Hedeclared that it haunted him round the room. 

FUSELI'S "TITANIA. "

His Titania (also engraved in the Shakspeare Gallery), overflows withelvish fun and imaginative drollery. It professes to embody that portionof the first scene in the fourth act where the spell-blinded queencaresses Bottom the weaver, on whose shoulders Oberon's transformingwand has placed an ass' head. Titania, a gay and alluring being, attended by her troop of fairies, is endeavoring to seem as lovely aspossible in the sight of her lover, who holds down his head and assumesthe air of the most stupid of all creatures. One almost imagines thather ripe round lips are uttering the well-known words, --

 "Come sit thee down upon this flowery bed, While I thy amiable cheeks do coy, And stick musk roses in thy sleek smooth head, And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy. "

The rout and revelry which the fancy of the painter has poured aroundthis spell-bound pair, baffles all description. All is mirthful, tricksy, and fantastic. Sprites of all looks and all hues--of all"dimensions, shapes, and mettles, "--the dwarfish elf and the elegantfay--Cobweb commissioned to kill a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of athistle, that Bottom might have the honey-bag--Pease-Blossom, who hadthe less agreeable employment of scratching the weaver's head--and thatindividual fairy who could find the hoard of the squirrel and carry awayhis nuts--with a score of equally merry companions are swarmingeverywhere and in full employment. Mustard-Seed, a fairy of dwarfishstature, stands on tiptoe in the hollow of Bottom's hand, endeavoring toreach his nose--his fingers almost touch, he is within a quarter of aninch of scratching, but it is evident he can do no more, and his newmaster is too much of an ass to raise him up. 

FUSELI'S ELECTION AS A ROYAL ACADEMICIAN. 

Fuseli was elected an Associate of the Royal Academy in 1788, and earlyin 1790 became an Academician--honors won by talent without theslightest coöperation of intrigue. His election was neverthelessunpleasant to Reynolds, who desired to introduce Bonomi the architect. Fuseli, to soothe the President, waited on him beforehand, and said, "Iwish to be elected an academician. I have been disappointed hitherto bythe deceit of pretended friends--shall I offend you if I offer myselfnext election?" "Oh, no, " said Sir Joshua with a kindly air, "no offenceto me; but you cannot be elected this time--we must have an architectin. " "Well, well, " said Fuseli, who could not conceive how an architectcould be a greater acquisition to the Academy than himself--"Well, well, you say that I shall not offend you by offering myself, so I must make atrial. " The trial was successful. 

FUSELI AND HORACE WALPOLE. 

Concerning his picture of Theodore and Honorio, Fuseli used to say, "Look at it--it is connected with the first patron I ever had. " He thenproceeded to relate how Cipriani had undertaken to paint for HoraceWalpole a scene from Boccaccio's Theodore and Honorio, familiar to allin the splendid translation of Dryden, and, after several attempts, finding the subject too heavy for his handling, he said to Walpole, "Icannot please myself with a sketch from this most imaginative of Gothicfictions; but I know one who can do the story justice--a man of greatpowers, of the name of Fuseli. " "Let me see this painter of yours, " saidthe other. Fuseli was sent for, and soon satisfied Walpole that hisimagination was equal to the task, by painting a splendid picture. 

FUSELI AND THE BANKER COUTTS. 

While Fuseli was laboring on his celebrated "Milton Gallery, " he wasfrequently embarrassed by pecuniary difficulties. From these he wasrelieved by a steadfast friend--Mr. Coutts--who aided him while in Rome, and forsook him not in any of his after difficulties. The gratefulpainter once waited on the banker, and said, "I have finished the bestof all my works--the Lazar House--when shall I send it home?" "Myfriend, " said Mr. Coutts, "for me to take this picture would be a fraudupon you and upon the world. I have no place in which it could be fitlyseen. Sell it to some one who has a gallery--your kind offer of it issufficient for me, and makes all matters straight between us. " For aperiod of sixty years that worthy man was the unchangeable friend of thepainter. The apprehensions which the latter entertained of poverty werefrequently without cause, and Coutts has been known on such occasions toassume a serious look, and talk of scarcity of cash and of sufficientsecurities. Away flew Fuseli, muttering oaths and cursing allparsimonious men, and having found a friend, returned with himbreathless, saying, "There! I stop your mouth with a security. " Thecheque for the sum required was given, the security refused, and thepainter pulled his hat over his eyes, "To hide the tear that fain would fall"--

and went on his way. 

FUSELI AND PROF. PORSON. 

Fuseli once repeated half-a-dozen sonorous and well sounding lines inGreek, to Prof. Porson, and said, --

"With all your learning now, you cannot tell me who wrote that. "

The Professor, "much renowned in Greek, " confessed his ignorance, andsaid, "I don't know him. "

"How the devil should you know him?" chuckled Fuseli, "I made them thismoment. "

FUSELI'S METHOD OF GIVING VENT TO HIS PASSION. 

When thwarted in the Academy (which happened not unfrequently), hiswrath aired itself in a polyglott. "It is a pleasant thing, and anadvantageous, " said the painter, on one of these occasions, "to belearned. I can speak Greek, Latin, French, English, German, Danish, Dutch, and Spanish, and so let my folly or my fury get vent througheight different avenues. "

FUSELI'S LOVE FOR TERRIFIC SUBJECTS. 

Fuseli knew not well how to begin with quiet beauty and serene grace:the hurrying measures, the crowding epithets, and startling imagery ofthe northern poetry suited his intoxicated fancy. His "Thor batteringthe Serpent" was such a favorite that he presented it to the Academy ashis admission gift. Such was his love of terrific subjects, that he wasknown among his brethren by the name of _Painter in ordinary to theDevil_, and he smiled when some one officiously told him this, and said, "Aye! he has sat to me many times. " Once, at Johnson the bookseller'stable, one of the guests said, "Mr. Fuseli, I have purchased a pictureof yours. " "Have you, sir; what is the subject?" "Subject? really Idon't know. " "That's odd; you must be a strange fellow to buy a picturewithout knowing the subject. " "I bought it, sir, that's enough--I don'tknow what the _devil_ it is. " "Perhaps it is the devil, " replied Fuseli, "I have often painted him. " Upon this, one of the company, to arrest aconversation which was growing warm, said, "Fuseli, there is a member ofyour Academy who has strange looks--and he chooses as strange subjectsas you do. " "Sir, " exclaimed the Professor, "he paints nothing butthieves and murderers, and when he wants a model, he looks in theglass. "

FUSELI'S AND LAWRENCE'S PICTURES FROM THE "TEMPEST. "

Cunningham says, "Fuseli had sketched a picture of Miranda and Prosperofrom the Tempest, and was considering of what dimensions he should makethe finished painting, when he was told that Lawrence had sent in forexhibition a picture on the same subject, and with the same figures. His wrath knew no bounds. 'This comes, ' he cried, 'of my blastedsimplicity in showing my sketches--never mind--I'll teach theface-painter to meddle with my Prospero and Miranda. ' He had no canvasprepared--he took a finished picture, and over the old performancedashed in hastily, in one laborious day, a wondrous scene from theTempest--hung it in the exhibition right opposite that of Lawrence, andcalled it 'a sketch for a large picture. ' Sir Thomas said little, butthought much--he never afterwards, I have heard, exhibited a poeticsubject. "

FUSELI'S ESTIMATE OF REYNOLDS' ABILITIES IN HISTORICAL PAINTING. 

Fuseli mentions Reynolds in his Lectures, as a great portrait painter, and no more. One evening in company, Sir Thomas Lawrence was discoursingon what he called the "historic grandeur" of Sir Joshua, and contrastinghim with Titian and Raffaelle. Fuseli kindled up--"Blastation! you willdrive me mad--Reynolds and Raffaelle!--a dwarf and a giant!--why willyou waste all your fine words?" He rose and left the room, mutteringsomething about a tempest in a pint pot. Lawrence followed, soothed him, and brought him back. 

FUSELI AND LAWRENCE. 

"These two eminent men, " says Cunningham, "loved one another. The Keeperhad no wish to give permanent offence, and the President had as littledesire to be on ill terms with one so bitter and so satirical. They wereoften together; and I have heard Sir Thomas say, that he never had adispute with Fuseli save once--and that was concerning their pictures ofSatan. Indeed, the Keeper, both with tongue and pen, took pleasure inpointing out the excellencies of his friend, nor was he blind to hisdefects. 'This young man, ' thus he wrote in one of his early criticisms, 'would do well to look at nature again; his flesh is too glassy. 'Lawrence showed his sense of his monitor's accuracy by following theadvice. "

FUSELI AS KEEPER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY. 

Fuseli, on the whole, was liked as Keeper. It is true that he was oftensatirical and severe on the students--that he defaced their drawings bycorrections which, compared to their weak and trembling lines, seemedtraced with a tar-mop, and that he called them tailors and bakers, vowing that there was more genius in the _claw_ of one of MichaelAngelo's eagles, than in all the _heads_ with which the Academy wasswarming. The youths on whom fell this tempest of invective, smiled; andthe Keeper pleased by submission, walked up to each easel, whispered aword of advice confidentially, and retired in peace to enjoy the companyof his Homer, Michael Angelo, Dante, and Milton. The students wereunquestionably his friends; those of the year 1807 presented him with asilver vase, designed by one whom he loved--Flaxman the sculptor; and hereceived it very graciously. Ten years after, he was presented with thediploma of the first class in the Academy of St. Luke at Rome. 

FUSELI'S JESTS AND ODDITIES WITH THE STUDENTS OF THE ACADEMY. 

The students found constant amusement from Fuseli's witty andcharacteristic retorts, and they were fond of repeating his jokes. Heheard a violent altercation in the studio one day, and inquired thecause. "It is only those fellows, the students, sir, " said one of theporters. "Fellows!" exclaimed Fuseli, "I would have you to know, sir, that those _fellows_ may one day become academicians. " The noiseincreased--he opened the door, and burst in upon them, exclaiming, "Youare a den of damned wild beasts. " One of the offenders, Munro by name, bowed and said, "and Fuseli is our Keeper. " He retired smiling, andmuttering "the fellows are growing witty. " Another time he saw a figurefrom which the students were making drawings lying broken to pieces. "Now who the devil has done this?" "Mr. Medland, " said an officiousprobationer, "he jumped over the rail and broke it. " He walked up to theoffender--all listened for the storm. He calmly said, "Mr. Medland, youare fond of jumping--go to Sadler's Wells--it is the best academy inthe world for improving agility. " A student as he passed held up hisdrawing, and said confidently, "Here, sir--I finished it without using acrumb of bread. " "All the worse for your drawing, " replied Fuseli, "buya two-penny loaf and rub it out. " "What do you see, sir?" he said oneday to a student, who, with his pencil in his hand and his drawingbefore him, was gazing into vacancy. "Nothing, sir, " was the answer. "Nothing, young man, " said the Keeper emphatically, "then I tell youthat you ought to see _something_--you ought to see distinctly the trueimage of what you are trying to draw. I see the vision of all Ipaint--and I wish to heaven I could paint up to what I see. "

FUSELI'S SARCASMS ON NORTHCOTE. 

He loved especially to exercise his wit upon Northcote. He looked on hisfriend's painting of the Angel meeting Balaam and his Ass. "How do youlike it?" said the painter. "Vastly, Northcote, " returned Fuseli, "youare an angel at an ass--but an ass at an angel!"

When Northcote exhibited his Judgment of Solomon, Fuseli looked at itwith a sarcastic smirk on his face. "How do you like my picture?"inquired Northcote. "Much" was the answer--"the action suits theword--Solomon holds out his fingers like a pair of open scissors at thechild, and says, 'Cut it. '--I like it much!" Northcote remembered thiswhen Fuseli exhibited a picture representing Hercules drawing his arrowat Pluto. "How do you like my picture?" inquired Fuseli. "Much!" saidNorthcote--"it is clever, very clever, but he'll never hit him. " "Heshall hit him, " exclaimed the other, "and that speedily. " Away ranFuseli with his brush, and as he labored to give the arrow the truedirection, was heard to mutter "Hit him!--by Jupiter, but he shall hithim!"

FUSELI'S' SARCASMS ON VARIOUS RIVAL ARTISTS. 

He rarely spared any one, and on Nollekens he was frequently merciless;he disliked him for his close and parsimonious nature, and rarely failedto hit him under the fifth rib. Once, at the table of Mr. Coutts thebanker, Mrs. Coutts, dressed like Morgiana, came dancing in, presentingher dagger at every breast. As she confronted the sculptor, Fuselicalled out, "Strike--strike--there's no fear; Nolly was never known tobleed!" When Blake, a man infinitely more wild in conception than Fuselihimself, showed him one of his strange productions, he said, "Now someone has told you this is very fine. " "Yes, " said Blake, "the Virgin Maryappeared to me and told me it was very fine; what can you say to that?""Say!" exclaimed Fuseli, "why nothing--only her ladyship has not animmaculate taste. "

Fuseli had aided Northcote and Opie in obtaining admission to theAcademy, and when he desired some station for himself, he naturallyexpected their assistance--they voted against him, and next morning wenttogether to his house to offer an explanation. He saw them coming--heopened the door as they were scraping their shoes, and said, "Comein--come in--for the love of heaven come in, else you will ruin meentirely. " "How so?" cried Opie "Marry, thus, " replied the other, "myneighbors over the way will see you, and say, 'Fuseli's _done_, --forthere's a bum bailiff, '" he looked at Opie, "'going to seize his person;and a little Jew broker, '" he looked at Northcote, "'going to take hisfurniture, --so come in I tell you--come in!'"

FUSELI'S RETORTS. 

One day, during varnishing time in the exhibition, an eminent portraitpainter was at work on the hand of one of his pictures; he turned to theKeeper, who was near him, and said, "Fuseli, Michael Angelo neverpainted such a hand. " "No, by Pluto, " retorted the other, "but you have, _many_!"

He had an inherent dislike to Opie; and some one, to please Fuseli, said, in allusion to the low characters in the historical pictures ofthe Death of James I. Of Scotland, and the Murder of David Rizzio, thatOpie could paint nothing but vulgarity and dirt. "If he paints nothingbut _dirt_, " said Fuseli, "he paints it like an angel. "

One day, a painter who had been a student during the keepership ofWilton, called and said, "The students, sir, don't draw so well now asthey did under Joe Wilton. " "Very true, " replied Fuseli, "anybody maydraw here, let them draw ever so bad--_you_ may draw here, if youplease!"

During the exhibition of his Milton Gallery, a visitor accosted him, mistaking him for the keeper--"Those paintings, sir, are from ParadiseLost I hear, and Paradise Lost was written by Milton. I have never readthe poem, but I shall do it now. " "I would not advise you, sir, " saidthe sarcastic artist, "you will find it an exceedingly tough job!"

A person who desired to speak with the Keeper of the Academy, followedso close upon the porter whose business it was to introduce him, that heannounced himself with, "I hope I don't intrude. " "You do intrude, " saidFuseli, in a surly tone. "Do I?" said the visitor; "then, sir, I willcome to-morrow, if you please. " "No, sir, " replied he, "don't cometo-morrow, for then you will intrude a second time: tell me yourbusiness now!"

A man of some station in society, and who considered himself a powerfulpatron in art, said at a public dinner, where he was charmed withFuseli's conversation, "If you ever come my way, Fuseli, I shall behappy to see you. " The painter instantly caught the patronizing, self-important spirit of the invitation. "I thank you, " retorted he, "but I never go your way--I never even go down your street, although Ioften pass by the end of it!"

FUSELI'S SUGGESTION OF AN EMBLEM OF ETERNITY

Looking upon a serpent with its tail in its mouth, carved upon anexhibited monument as an emblem of Eternity, and a very commonplace one, he said to the sculptor, "It won't do, I tell you; you must havesomething new. " The _something new_ startled a man whose imagination wasnone of the brightest, and he said, "How shall I find something new?""O, nothing so easy, " said Fuseli, "I'll help you to it. When I wentaway to Rome I left two fat men cutting fat bacon in St. Martin's Lane;in ten years' time I returned, and found the two fat men cutting fatbacon still; twenty years more have passed, and there the two fatfellows cut the fat flitches the same as ever. Carve them! if they looknot like an image of eternity, I wot not what does. "

FUSELI'S REPORT IN MR. COUTTS' BANKING HOUSE. 

During the exhibition of his Milton pictures, he called at the bankinghouse of Mr. Coutts, saying he was going out of town for a few days, andwished to have some money in his pocket. "How much?" said one of thefirm. "How much!" said Fuseli, "why, as much as twenty pounds; and as itis a large sum, and I don't wish to take your establishment by surprise, I have called to give you a day's notice of it!" "I thank you, sir, "said the cashier, imitating Fuseli's own tone of irony, "we shall beready for you--but as the town is thin and money scarce with us, youwill oblige me greatly by giving us a few orders to see your MiltonGallery--it will keep cash in our drawers, and hinder your exhibitionfrom being empty. " Fuseli shook him heartily by the hand, and cried, "Blastation! you shall have the tickets with all my heart; I have hadthe opinion of the virtuosi, the dilettanti, the cognoscenti, and thenobles and gentry on my pictures, and I want now the opinion of theblackguards. I shall send you and your friends a score of tickets, andthank you too for taking them. "

FUSELI'S GENERAL SARCASMS ON LANDSCAPE AND PORTRAIT PAINTERS. 

During the delivery of one of his lectures, in which he calls landscapepainters the topographers of art, Beechey admonished Turner with hiselbow of the severity of the sarcasm; presently, when Fuseli describedthe patrons of portrait painting as men who would give a few guineas tohave their own senseless heads painted, and then assume the air and usethe language of patrons, Turner administered a similar hint to Beechey. When the lecture was over, Beechey walked up to Fuseli, and said, "Howsharply you have been cutting up us poor laborers in portraiture!" "Notyou, Sir William, " exclaimed the professor, "I only spoke of the blastedfools who employ you!"

FUSELI'S OPINION OF HIS OWN ATTAINMENT OF HAPPINESS. 

His life was not without disappointment, but for upwards of eighty yearshe was free from sickness. Up to this period, and even beyond it, hisspirits seemed inexhaustible; he had enjoyed the world, and obtained nolittle distinction; nor was he insensible to the advantages which he hadenjoyed. "I have been a happy man, " he said, "for I have always beenwell, and always employed in doing what I liked"--a boast which few menof genius can make. When work with the pencil failed, he lifted the pen;and as he was ready and talented with both, he was never obliged to fillup time with jobs that he disliked. 

FUSELI'S PRIVATE HABITS. 

He was an early riser, and generally sat down to breakfast with a bookon entomology in his hand. He ate and read, and read and ate--regardingno one, and speaking to no one. He was delicate and abstemious, and ongross feeders he often exercised the severity of his wit. Two meals aday were all he ventured on--he always avoided supper--the story of hishaving supped on raw pork-chops that he might dream his picture of theNightmare, has no foundation. Indeed, the dreams he delighted to relatewere of the noblest kind, and consisted of galleries of the fairestpictures and statues, in which were walking the poets and painters ofold. Having finished breakfast and noted down some remarks onentomology, he went into his studio--painted till dinner time--dinedhastily, if at home, and then resumed his labors, or else forgot himselfover Homer, or Dante, or Shakspeare, or Milton, till midnight. 

FUSELI'S WIFE'S METHOD OF CURING HIS FITS OF DESPONDENCY. 

He was subject to fits of despondency, and during the continuance ofsuch moods he sat with his beloved book on entomology upon hisknee--touched now and then the breakfast cup with his lips, and seemedresolutely bent on being unhappy. In periods such as these it wasdifficult to rouse him, and even dangerous. Mrs. Fuseli on suchoccasions ventured to become his monitress. "I know him well, " she saidone morning to a friend who found him in one of his dark moods, "he willnot come to himself till he is put into a passion--the storm then clearsoff, and the man looks out serene. " "Oh no, " said her visitor, "let himalone for a while--he will soon think rightly. " He was spared till nextmorning--he came to the breakfast table in the same mood of mind. "Now Imust try what I can do, " said his wife to the same friend whom she hadconsulted the day before; she now began to reason with her husband, andsoothe and persuade him; he answered only by a forbidding look and ashrug of the shoulder. She then boldly snatched away his book, anddauntlessly abode the storm. The storm was not long in coming--his ownfiend rises up not more furiously from the side of Eve than did thepainter. He glared on his friend and on his wife--uttered a deepimprecation--rushed up stairs and strode about his room in greatagitation. In a little while his steps grew more regular--he soon openedthe door, and descended to his labors all smiles and good humor. 

Fuseli's method of curing his wife's anger was not less original andcharacteristic. She was a spirited woman, and one day, when she hadwrought herself into a towering passion, her sarcastic husband said, "Sophia, my love, why don't you swear? You don't know how much it wouldease your mind. "

FUSELI'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE, HIS SARCASTIC DISPOSITION, AND QUICKTEMPER. 

Fuseli was of low stature--his frame slim, his forehead high, and hiseyes piercing and brilliant. His look was proud, wrapt up insarcastic--his movements were quick, and by an eager activity of mannerhe seemed desirous of occupying as much space as belonged to men ofgreater stature. His voice was loud and commanding--nor had he learnedmuch of the art of winning his way by gentleness and persuasion--he wasmore anxious as to say pointed and stinging things, than solicitousabout their accuracy; and he had much pleasure in mortifying hisbrethren of the easel with his wit, and over whelming them with hisknowledge. He was too often morose and unamiable--habitually despisingthose who were not his friends, and not unapt to dislike even his bestfriends, if they retorted his wit, or defended themselves successfullyagainst his satire. In dispute he was eager, fierce, unsparing, andoften precipitated himself into angry discussions with the Council, which, however, always ended in peace and good humor--for he was asplacable as passionate. On one occasion he flew into his own room in astorm of passion, and having cooled and come to himself, was desirous toreturn; the door was locked and the key gone; his fury overflowed allbounds. "Sam!" he shouted to the porter, "Sam Strowager, they havelocked me in like a blasted wild beast--bring crowbars and break openthe door. " The porter--a sagacious old man, who knew the trim of theKeeper--whispered through the keyhole, "Feel in your pocket, sir, forthe key!" He did so, and unlocking the door with a loud laugh exclaimed, "What a fool!--never mind--I'll to the Council, and soon show them theyare greater asses than myself. "

FUSELI'S NEAR SIGHT. 

Fuseli was so near-sighted that he was obliged to retire from his easelto a distance and examine his labors by means of an opera-glass, thenreturn and retouch, and retire again to look. His weakness of sight waswell known, and one of the students, in revenge for some satiricalstrictures, placed a bench in his way, over which he nearly fell. "Blessmy soul, " said the Keeper, "I must put spectacles on my shins!"

FUSELI'S POPULARITY. 

Notwithstanding his sarcastic temper, and various peculiarities, Fuseliwas generally liked, and by none more than by the students who were sooften made the objects of his satire. They were sensible that he wasassiduous in instruction, that he was very learned and very skilful, andthat he allowed no one else to take liberties with their conduct ortheir pursuits. He had a wonderful tact in singling out the mostintellectual of the pupils; he was the first to notice Lawrence, and atthe very outset of Wilkie, he predicted his future eminence. 

FUSELI'S ARTISTIC MERITS. 

The following critique from the pen of Allan Cunningham, gives a goodidea of Fuseli's abilities as an artist. "His main wish was to startleand astonish. It was his ambition to be called Fuseli the daring and theimaginative, the illustrator of Milton and Shakspeare, the rival ofMichael Angelo. His merits are of no common order. He was no timid orcreeping adventurer in the region of art, but a man peculiarly bold anddaring--who rejoiced only in the vast, the wild, and the wonderful, andloved to measure himself with any subject, whether in the heaven above, the earth beneath, or the waters under the earth. The domestic andhumble realities of life he considered unworthy of his pencil, andemployed it only on those high or terrible themes where imagination mayput forth all her strength, and fancy scatter all her colors. Heassociated only with the demi-gods of verse, and roamed through Homer, and Dante, and Shakspeare, and Milton, in search of subjects worthy ofhis hand; he loved to grapple with whatever he thought too weighty forothers; and assembling round him the dim shapes which imaginationreadily called forth, he sat brooding over the chaos, and tried to bringthe whole into order and beauty. His coloring is like his design;original; it has a kind of supernatural hue, which harmonizes with manyof his subjects--the spirits of the other world and the hags of hell aresteeped in a kind of kindred color, which becomes their naturalcharacters. His notion of color suited the wildest of his subjects; andthe hue of Satan and the lustre of Hamlet's Ghost are part of theimagination of those supernatural shapes. "

FUSELI'S MILTON GALLERY, THE CHARACTER OF HIS WORKS, AND THE PERMANENCYOF HIS FAME. 

The magnificent plan of the "Milton Gallery" originated with Fuseli, wascountenanced by Johnson the bookseller, and supported by the genius ofCowper, who undertook to prepare an edition of Milton, with translationsof his Latin and Italian poems. The pictures were to have been engraved, and introduced as embellishments to the work. --The Gallery was commencedin 1791, and completed in 1800, containing forty-seven pictures. "Out ofthe seventy exhibited paintings, " says Cunningham, on which he reposedhis hopes of fame, not one can be called commonplace--they are allpoetical in their nature, and as poetically treated. "Some twenty ofthese alarm, startle, and displease; twenty more may come within thelimits of common comprehension; the third twenty are such as few mencould produce, and deserve a place in the noblest collections; while theremaining ten are equal in conception to anything that genius hashitherto produced, and second only in their execution to the true andrecognised masterpieces of art. It cannot be denied, however, that acertain air of extravagance and a desire to stretch and strain, arevisible in most of his works. A common mind, having no sympathy with hissoaring, perceives his defects at once, and ranks him with the wild andunsober--a poetic mind will not allow the want of serenity and composureto extinguish the splendor of the conception; but whilst it notes theblemish, will feel the grandeur of the work. The approbation of highminds fixes the degree of fame to which genius of all degrees isentitled, and the name of Fuseli is safe. "

SALVATOR ROSA. 

This celebrated painter was born at Renella, a small village nearNaples, in 1615. There is so much fiction mingled with his earlyhistory, that it is impossible to arrive at the truth. It is certain, however, that he commenced the study of painting under hisbrother-in-law, Francesco Fracanzani, that he passed his early days inpoverty, that he was compelled to support himself by his pencil, andthat he exposed his juvenile performances for sale in the publicmarkets, and often sold them to the dealers for the most paltry prices. 

SALVATOR ROSA AND CAV. LANFRANCO. 

To the honor of Cav. Lanfranco, it is related that while riding in hiscarriage one day along the streets of Naples, he observed one ofSalvator's pictures exposed for sale in a shop window, and surprised atthe uncommon genius which it displayed, he purchased the picture, andinquired the name of the young artist. The picture dealer, who hadprobably found Salvator's necessities quite profitable to himself, refused to communicate the desired information, whereupon Lanfrancodirected his scholars to watch for his pictures, and seek him out. Whenhe had found him, he generously relieved his wants, and encouraged himin the pursuit of his studies. After receiving some instructions fromAniello Falcone, an eminent painter of battle-pieces, he was admitted, through the influence of Lanfranco, into the academy of GiuseppeRibera, called Il Spagnoletto, and remained there until the age oftwenty, when he accompanied that master to Rome. 

SALVATOR ROSA AT ROME AND FLORENCE. 

The Cardinal Brancacci, having become acquainted with the merits ofSalvator Rosa at Naples, took him under his protection, and conductedhim to his bishopric of Viterbo, where he painted several historicalworks, and an altar-piece for the cathedral, representing theIncredulity of St. Thomas. On his return to Rome, the prince Gio. Carlode' Medici employed him to execute several important works, andafterwards invited him to Florence. During a residence of nine years inthat city, he greatly distinguished himself as a painter, and also as asatirical and dramatic poet; his Satires, composed in Florence, havepassed through several editions. His wit, lively disposition, andunusual conversational powers, drew around him many choice spirits, andhis house was the great centre of attraction for the connoisseurs andliterati of Florence. He fitted up a private theatre, and was accustomedto perform the principal parts in his comedies, in which he displayedextraordinary talents. He painted many of his choicest pictures for theGrand Duke, who nobly rewarded him; also for the noble family of theMaffei, for their palace at Volterra. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S RETURN TO ROME. 

After Salvator Rosa's return to Rome from Florence, he demandedexorbitant prices for his works, and though his greatest talent lay inlandscape painting, he affected to despise that branch, being ambitiousof shining as an historical painter. He painted some altar-pieces andother subjects for the churches, the chief of which are four pictures inS. Maria di Monte Santo, representing Daniel in the Lions' Den, Tobitand the Angel, the Resurrection of Christ, and the Raising of Lazarus;the Martyrdom of St. Cosimo and St. Damiano, in the church of S. Giovanni. 

The brightest era of landscape painting is said with truth to have beenin the time of Pope Urban VIII. , when flourished Claude Lorraine, GasparPoussin, and Salvator Rosa. Of these, Salvator was the mostdistinguished, though certainly not the best; each was the head of aperfectly original school, which had many followers, and each observednature on the side in which he felt impelled to imitate her. The firstadmired and represented nature in her sweetest appearance; the second, in her most gorgeous array; and the third in her most convulsed andterrific aspects. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S SUBJECTS. 

Salvator Rosa painted history, landscape, battle-pieces, and sea-ports;and of these he was most eminent in landscape. The scholar ofSpagnoletto, he attached himself to the strong natural style and darkcoloring of that master, which well accords with his subjects. In hislandscapes, instead of selecting the cultured amenity which captivatesin the views of Claude or Poussin, he made choice of the lonely hauntsof wolves and robbers; instead of the delightful vistas of Tivoli andthe Campagna, he adopted the savage scenery of the Alps, rockyprecipices, caves with wild thickets and desert plains; his trees areshattered, or torn up by the roots, and in the atmosphere itself heseldom introduced a cheerful hue, except occasionally a solitarysunbeam. These gloomy regions are peopled with congenial inhabitants, ferocious banditti, assassins, and outlaws. In his marines, he followedthe same taste; they represent the desolate and shelvy shores ofCalabria, whose dreary aspect is sometimes heightened by terrifictempests, with all the horrors of shipwreck. His battles and attacks ofcavalry also partake of the same principle of wild beauty; the fury ofthe combatants, and the fiery animation of the horses are depicted witha truth and effect that strikes the mind with horror. Notwithstandingthe singularity and fierceness of his style, he captivates by theunbounded wildness of his fancy, and the picturesque solemnity of hisscenes. 

Salvator Rosa wrought with wonderful facility, and could paint a wellfinished landscape and insert all the figures in one day; it isimpossible to inspect one of his bold, rapid sketches, without beingstruck with the fertility of his invention, and the skill of hand thatrivalled in execution the activity of his mind. He was also an excellentportrait painter. A portrait of himself is in the church degli Angeli, where his remains were interred, and he introduced his own portrait intoseveral of his pictures, one of which is in the Chigi gallery, representing a wild scene with a poet in a sitting attitude, (with thefeatures of Salvator); before him stands a satyr, allusive to hissatiric style of poetry. During his life-time, his works were muchsought after by princes and nobles, and they are now to be found in thechoicest collections of Italy and of Europe. There is a landscape in theEnglish National Gallery which cost 1800 guineas; a picture in thecollection of Sir Mark Sykes brought the enormous sum of 2100 guineas. 

FLAGELLATION OF SALVATOR ROSA. 

It happened one day that Salvator Rosa, in his youth, on his way tomass, brought with him by mistake, his bundle of burned sticks, withwhich he used to draw, instead of his mother's brazen clasped missal;and in passing along the magnificent cloisters of the great church ofthe Certosa at Naples, sacred alike to religion and the arts, he appliedthem between the interstices of its Doric columns to the only unoccupiedspace on the pictured walls. History has not detailed what was thesubject which occupied his attention on this occasion, but he wasworking away with all the ardor which his enthusiastic genius inspired, when unfortunately the Prior, issuing with his train from the choir, caught the hapless painter in the very act of scrawling on those sacredwalls which required all the influence of the greatest masters to getleave to ornament. The sacrilegious temerity of the boy artist, calledfor instant and exemplary punishment. Unluckily too, for the littleoffender, this happened in Lent, the season in which the rules of therigid Chartreuse oblige the prior and procurator to flagellate all thefrati, or lay brothers of the convent. They were, therefore, armed fortheir wonted pious discipline, when the miserable Salvatoriello fell intheir way; whether he was honored by the consecrated hand of the prior, or writhed under the scourge of the procurator, does not appear; butthat he was chastised with great severity more than proportioned to hiscrime, is attested by one of the most scrupulous of his biographers, Pascoli, who, though he dwells lightly on the fact, as he does on othersof more importance, confesses that he suffered severely from the monks'flagellation. 

SALVATOR ROSA AND THE HIGGLING PRINCE. 

A Roman prince, more notorious for his pretensions to _virtu_ than forhis liberality to artists, sauntering one day in Salvator's gallery, inthe Via Babbuina, paused before one of his landscapes, and after a longcontemplation of its merits, exclaimed, "Salvator mio! I am stronglytempted to purchase this picture: tell me at once the lowestprice. "--"Two hundred scudi, " replied Salvator, carelessly. "Two hundredscudi! Ohime! that is a price! but we'll talk of that another time. " Theillustrissimo took his leave; but bent upon having the picture, heshortly returned, and again inquired the lowest price. "Three hundredscudi!" was the sullen reply. "Carpo di bacco!" cried the astonishedprince; "mi burla, vostra signoria; you are joking! I see I must e'enwait upon your better humor; and so addio, Signor Rosa. "

The next day brought back the prince to the painter's gallery; who, onentering, saluted Salvator with a jocose air, and added, "Well, SignorAmico, how goes the market to-day? Have prices risen or fallen?"

"Four hundred scudi is the price to-day!" replied Salvator, withaffected calmness; when suddenly giving way to his natural impetuosity, and no longer stifling his indignation, he burst forth: "The fact is, your excellency shall not now obtain this picture from me at any price;and yet so little do I value its merits, that I deem it worthy no betterfate than this;" and snatching the panel on which it was painted fromthe wall, he flung it to the ground, and with his foot broke it into ahundred pieces. His excellency made an unceremonious retreat, andreturned no more to the enraged painter's studio. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S OPINION OF HIS OWN WORKS. 

While a Roman nobleman was one day endeavoring to drive a hard bargainwith Salvator Rosa, he coolly interrupted him, saying that, till thepicture was finished, he himself did not know its value; "I neverbargain, sir, with my pencil; for it knows not the value of its ownlabor before the work is finished. When the picture is done, I will letyou know what it costs, and you may then take it or not as you please. "

SALVATOR ROSA'S BANDITTI. 

There is an etching by Salvator Rosa, which seems so plainly to tell thestory of the wandering artist's captivity, that it merits a particulardescription. In the midst of wild, rocky scenery, appears a group ofbanditti, armed at all points, and with all sorts of arms; they arelying in careless attitudes, but with fierce countenances, around ayouthful prisoner, who forms the foreground figure, and is seated on arock, with his languid limbs hanging over the precipice, which may besupposed to yawn beneath. It is impossible to describe the despairdepicted in this figure: it is marked in his position, in the droopingof his head, which his nerveless arms seem with difficulty to support, and the little that may be seen of his face, over which, from hisrecumbent attitude, his hair falls in luxuriant profusion. All is alikedestitute of energy and of hope, which the beings grouped around thecaptive seem to have banished forever by some sentence recentlypronounced; yet there is one who watches over the fate of the youngvictim: a woman stands immediately behind him, with her hand stretchedout, while her fore finger, resting on his head, marks him as thesubject of discourse which she addresses to the listening bandits. Herfigure, which is erect is composed of those bold, straight lines, whichin art and nature, constitute the grand. Even the fantastic cap orturban, from which her long dishevelled hair has escaped, has no curveof grace; and her drapery partakes of the same rigid forms. Hercountenance is full of stern melancholy--the natural character of onewhose feelings and habits are at variance; whose strong passions mayhave flung her out of the pale of society, but whose womanly sympathiesstill remain unchanged. She is artfully pleading for the life of theyouth, by contemptuously noting his insignificance; but she commandswhile she soothes. She is evidently the mistress or the wife of thechief, in whoso absence an act of vulgar violence may be meditated. Theyouth's life is saved: for that cause rarely fails, to which a womanbrings the omnipotence of her feelings. 

SALVATOR ROSA AND MASSANIELLO. 

It was during the residence of Salvator Rosa in Naples, that thememorable popular tumult under Massaniello took place; and our painterwas persuaded by his former master, Aniello Falcone, to become one of anadventurous set of young men, principally painters, who had formedthemselves into a band for the purpose of taking revenge on theSpaniards, and were called "La Compagna della Morte. " The tragical fateof Massaniello, however, soon dispersed these heroes; and Rosa, fearinghe might be compelled to take a similar part in that fatal scene, soughtsafety by flight, and took refuge in Rome. 

SALVATOR ROSA AND CARDINAL SFORZA. 

Salvator Rosa is said never to have suffered the rank or office of hisauditors to interfere with the freedom of his expressions in his poeticrecitations. Cardinal Sforza Pullavicini, one of the most generouspatrons of the fine arts, and a rigid critic of his day, was curious tohear the improvisatore of the Via Babbuina, and sent an invitationrequesting Salvator's company at his palace. Salvator frankly declaredthat two conditions were annexed to his accepting the honor of hisEminence's acquaintance; first, that the Cardinal should come to hishouse, as he never recited in any other; and second, that he should notobject to any passage, the omission of which would detract from theoriginal character of his work, or compromise his own sincerity. TheCardinal accepted the conditions. The next day all the literary coxcombsof Rome crowded to the levee of the hypercritical prelate to learn hisopinion of the poet, whose style was without precedent. The Cardinaldeclared, with a justice which posterity has sanctioned, that"Salvator's poetry was full of splendid passages, but that, as a whole, it was unequal. "

SALVATOR ROSA'S MANIFESTO CONCERNING HIS SATIRICAL PICTURE LA FORTUNA. 

In Salvator Rosa's celebrated picture of La Fortuna, the nose of onepowerful ecclesiastic, and the eye of another were detected in thebrutish physiognomy of the swine treading upon pearls, and in an ass, scattering with his hoofs the laurel and myrtle which lay in his path;and in an old goat, reposing on roses, some there were, who even fanciedthey discovered the Infallible Lover of Donna Olympia, the Sultana, queen of the Quirinal!

The cry of atheism and sedition--of contempt of establishedauthorities--was thus raised under the influence of private pique andlong-cherished envy: it soon found an echo in the painted walls wherethe conclave sat "in close divan, " and it was handed about from mouth tomouth, till it reached the ears of the Inquisitor, within the darkrecesses of his house of terror. A cloud was now gathering over the headof the devoted Salvator which it seemed no human power could avert. Butere the bolt fell, his fast and tried friend Don Maria Ghigi threwhimself between his protégé and the horrible fate which awaited him, byforcing the sullen satirist to draw up an apology, or rather anexplanation of his offensive picture. 

This explanation, bearing title of a "Manifesto, " he obtained permissionto present to those powerful and indignant persons in whose hands thefate of Salvator now lay; Rosa explained away all that was supposed tobe personal in his picture, and proved that his hogs were not churchmen, his mules pretending pedants, his asses Roman nobles, and his birds andbeasts of prey the reigning despots of Italy. His imprudence however, subsequently raised such a storm that he was obliged to quit Rome, whenhe fled to Florence. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S BANISHMENT FROM ROME. 

Salvator Rosa secretly deplored his banishment from Rome; and hisimpatience at being separated from Carlo Rossi and some other of hisfriends, was so great that he narrowly escaped losing his liberty toobtain an interview with them. About three years after his arrival inFlorence, he took post-horses, and at midnight set off for Rome. Havingreached the gardens of the "Vigna Navicella, " and bribed the custode tolend them for a few hours, and otherwise to assist him, he dispatched acircular billet to eighteen of his friends, supplicating them to givehim a rendezvous at the Navicella. Each believed that Salvator hadfallen into some new difficulty, which had obliged him to fly fromFlorence, and all attended his summons. He received them at the head ofa well furnished table, embraced them with tenderness, feasted themsumptuously, and then mounting his horse, returned to Florence beforehis Roman persecutors or Tuscan friends were aware of his adventure. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S WIT. 

Salvator Rosa exhibited a clever picture, the work of an amateur byprofession a surgeon, which had been rejected by the academicians of St. Luke. The artists came in crowds to see it; and by those who wereignorant of the painter, it was highly praised. On being asked who hadpainted it by some one, Salvator replied, "It was performed by a personwhom the great academicians of St. Luke thought fit to scorn, becausehis ordinary profession was that of a surgeon. But (continued he), Ithink they have not acted wisely; for if they had admitted him intotheir academy, they would have had the advantage of his services insetting the broken and distorted limbs that so frequently occur in theirexhibitions. "

SALVATOR ROSA'S RECEPTION AT FLORENCE. 

The departure of Salvator Rosa from Rome was an escape: his arrival inFlorence was a triumph. The Grand Duke and the princes of his housereceived him, not as an hireling, but as one whose genius placed himbeyond the possibility of dependence. An annual income was assigned tohim during his residence in Florence, in the service of the court, besides a stipulated price for each of his pictures: and he was leftperfectly unconstrained and at liberty to paint for whom he pleased. 

HISTRIONIC POWERS OF SALVATOR ROSA. 

In 1647, Salvator Rosa received an invitation to repair to the court ofTuscany, of which he availed himself the more willingly, as by themachinations of his enemies, he was in great danger of being thrown intoprison. At Florence he met with the most flattering reception, not onlyat the court and among the nobility, but among the literary men andeminent painters with which that city abounded. His residence soonbecame the rendezvous of all who were distinguished for their talents, and who afterwards formed themselves into an academy, to which they gavethe title of "I. Percossi. " Salvator, during the carnivals, frequentlydisplayed his abilities as a comic actor, and with such success, thatwhen he and a friend of his (a Bolognese merchant, who, though sixtyyears old, regularly left his business three months in the year, for thesole pleasure of performing with Rosa) played the parts of DottoreGraziano and Pascariello, the laughter and applause of their audiencewere so excessive as often to interrupt their performance for a lengthof time. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S RECEPTION AT THE PALAZZO PITTI. 

The character, in fact the manners and the talents of Salvator Rosa cameout in strong relief, as opposed to the servile deportment and mereprofessional acquirements of the herd of artists of all nations thenunder the protection of the Medici. He was received at the Palazzo Pittinot only as a distinguished artist, but as a guest; and the Medici, atwhose board Pulci (in the time of their Magnifico) had sung his MorganteMaggiore with the fervor of a rhapsodist, now received at their tableanother improvisatore, with equal courtesy and graciousness. The Tuscannobility, in imitation of the court, and in the desire to possessSalvator's pictures, treated him with singular honor. 

SATIRES OF SALVATOR ROSA. 

The boldness and rapidity of Salvator Rosa's pencil, aided by thefertility of his highly poetical imagination, enabled him to paint animmense number of pictures while he was at Florence; but not findingsufficient leisure to follow his other pursuits, he retired to Volterra, after having resided at Florence nine years, respected and beloved byall who knew him. The three succeeding years were passed in the familyof the Maffei, alternately at Volterra and their villa at Monte Ruffoli, in which time he completed his Satires, except the Sixth, "L'Invidia;"which was written after the publication of the others. He also paintedseveral portraits for the Maffei, and among others one of himself, whichwas afterwards presented to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and placed in theRoyal Gallery at Florence. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S HARPSICHORD. 

Salvator Rosa's confidence in his own powers was as frankly confessed asit was justified by success. Happening one day to be found by a friendin Florence, in the act of modulating on a very indifferent oldharpsichord, he was asked how he could keep such an instrument in hishouse. "Why, " said his friend, "it is not worth a scudo. " "I will wagerwhat you please, " said Salvator, "that it shall be worth a thousandbefore you see it again. " A bet was made, and Rosa immediately painted alandscape with figures on the lid, which was not only sold for athousand scudi, but was esteemed a capital performance. On one end ofthe harpsichord he also painted a skull and music-books. Both thesepictures were exhibited in the year 1823 at the British Institution. 

RARE PORTRAIT BY SALVATOR ROSA. 

While Salvator Rosa was on a visit to Florence, and refused allapplications for his pictures he was accidentally taken in to paint whathe so rarely condescended to do a portrait. 

There lived in Florence a good old dame of the name of Anna Gaetano, ofsome celebrity for keeping a notable inn, over the door of which wasinscribed in large letters, "Al buon vino non bisogna fruscia" (goodwine needs no bush). But it was not the good wines alone of Madonna Annathat drew to her house some of the most distinguished men of Florence, and made it particularly the resort of the Cavaliere Oltramontani--herhumor was as racy as her wine; and many of the men of wit and pleasureabout town were in the habit of lounging in the Sala Commune of DameGaetano, merely for the pleasure of drawing her out. Among these wereLorenzo Lippi and Salvator Rosa; and, although this Tuscan Dame Quicklywas in her seventieth year, hideously ugly, and grotesquely dressed, yetshe was so far from esteeming her age an "antidote to the tenderpassion, " that she distinguished Salvator Rosa by a preference, whichdeemed itself not altogether hopeless of return. Emboldened by hisfamiliarity and condescension, she had the vanity to solicit him topaint her portrait, "that she might, " she said, "reach posterity by thehand of the greatest master of the age. "

Salvator at first received her proposition as a joke; but perpetuallyteased by her reiterated importunities, and provoked by her pertinacity, he at last exclaimed, "Well, Madonna, I have resolved to comply withyour desire; but with this agreement, that, not to distract my mindduring my work, I desire you will not move from your seat until I havefinished the picture. " Madonna, willing to submit to any penalty inorder to obtain an honor which was to immortalize her charms, joyfullyagreed to the proposition; and Salvator, sending for an easel andpainting materials, drew her as she sat before him, to the life. Theportrait was dashed off with the usual rapidity and spirit of themaster, and was a chef d'oeuvre. But when at last the vain andimpatient hostess was permitted to look upon it, she perceived that to astrong and inveterate likeness the painter had added a long beard; andthat she figured on the canvas as an ancient male pilgrim--a characteradmirably suited to her furrowed face, weather-beaten complexion, stronglineaments, and grey hairs. Her mortified vanity vented itself in themost violent abuse of the ungallant painter, in rich TuscanBillingsgate. Salvator, probably less annoyed by her animosity thandisgusted by her preference, called upon some of her guests to judgebetween them. The artists saw only the merits of the picture, thelaughers looked only to the joke. The value affixed to the exquisiteportrait soon reconciled the vanity of the original through herinterest. After the death of Madonna Anna, her portrait was sold by herheirs at an enormous price, and is said to be still in existence. --_LadyMorgan. _

SALVATOR ROSA'S RETURN TO ROME. 

At the time of Salvator Rosa's return to Rome says Pascoli, he figuredaway as the _great painter_, opening his house to all his friends, whocame from all parts to visit him, and among others, Antonio Abbati, whohad resided for many years in Germany. This old acquaintance of the poorSalvatoriello of the Chiesa della Morte at Viterbo, was not a littleamazed to find his patient and humble auditor of former times one of themost distinguished geniuses and hospitable Amphitryons of the day. Pascoli gives a curious picture of the prevailing pedantry of the times, by describing a discourse of Antonio Abbati's at Salvator'sdinner-table, on the superior merits of the ancient painters over themoderns, in which he "bestowed all the tediousness" of his erudition onthe company. Salvator answered him in his own style, and havingoverturned all his arguments in favor of antiquity with more learningthan they had been supported, ended with an impromptu epigram, in hisusual way, which brought the laugher's on his side. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S LOVE OF MAGNIFICENCE. 

Salvator Rosa was fond of splendor and ostentatious display. He courtedadmiration from whatever source it could be obtained, and even sought itby means to which the frivolous and the vain are supposed alone toresort. He is described, therefore, as returning to Rome, from which hehad made so perilous and furtive an escape, in a showy and pompousequipage, with "servants in rich liveries, armed with silver haftedswords, and otherwise well accoutred. " The beautiful Lucrezia, as "suaGovernante, " accompanied him, and the little Rosalvo gave no scandal ina society where the instructions of religion substitute license forlegitimate indulgence. Immediately on his arrival in Rome, Salvatorfixed upon one of the loveliest of her hills for his residence, andpurchased a handsome house upon the Monte Pincio, on the Piazza dellaTrinità del Monte--"which, " says Pascoli, "he furnished with noble andrich furniture, establishing himself on the great scale, and in a lordlymanner. " A site more favorable than the Pincio, for a man of Salvator'staste and genius, could scarcely be imagined, commanding at once withinthe scope of its vast prospect, picturesque views, and splendidmonuments of the most important events in the history of man--theCapitol and the Campus Martius, the groves of the Quirinal and thecupola of St. Peter's, the ruined palaces of the Cæsars, and sumptuousvillas of the sons of the reigning church. Such was then, as now, therange of unrivalled objects which the Pincio commanded; but the nobleterrace smoothed over its acclivities, which recalled the memory ofAurelian and the feast of Belisarius, presented at that period a fardifferent aspect from that which it now offers. Everything in thisenchanting sight was then fresh and splendid; the halls of the VillaMedici, which at present only echo to the steps of a few French studentsor English travelers, were then the bustling and splendid residence ofthe old intriguing Cardinal Carlo de Medici, called the Cardinal ofTuscany, whose followers and faction were perpetually going to and fro, mingling their showy uniforms and liveries with the sober vestments ofthe neighboring monks of the convent della Trinità! The delicious grovesand gardens of the Villa de Medici then covered more than two Englishmiles, and amidst cypress shades and shrubberies, watered by clearsprings, and reflected in translucent fountains, stood exposed to publicgaze all that now form the most precious treasures of the FlorentineGallery--the Niobe, the Wrestlers, the Apollo, the Vase, and above all, the Venus of Venuses, which has derived its distinguishing appellationfrom these gardens, of which it was long the boast and ornament. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S LAST WORKS. 

The last performances of Salvator's pencil were a collection ofportraits of obnoxious persons in Rome--in other words, a series ofcaricatures, by which he would have an opportunity of giving vent to hissatirical genius; but whilst he was engaged on his own portrait, intending it as the concluding one of the series he was attacked with adropsy, which in the course of a few months brought him to the grave. 

SALVATOR ROSA'S DESIRE TO BE CONSIDERED AN HISTORICAL PAINTER. 

Salvator Rosa's greatest talent lay in landscape painting, a branchwhich he affected to despise, as he was ambitious of being called anhistorical painter. Hence he called his wild scenes, with small figuresmerely accessory, historical paintings, and was offended if otherscalled them landscapes. Pascoli relates that Prince Francisco Ximenes, soon after his arrival at Rome, in the midst of the honors paid him, found time to visit the studio of Salvator Rosa, who showed him into hisgallery. The Prince frankly said, "I have come, Signor Rosa, for thepurpose of seeing and purchasing some of those beautiful landscapes, whose subjects and manner have delighted me in many foreigncollections. "--"Be it known then, to your excellency, " interruptedSalvator impetuously, "that I know nothing of _landscape_ painting. Something indeed I do know of painting figures and historical subjects, which I strive to exhibit to such eminent judges as yourself, in orderthat, _once for all_, I may banish from the public mind that _fantastichumor_ of supposing I am a landscape and not an historical painter. " Atanother time, a very rich (_ricchissimo_) Cardinal called on Salvator topurchase some of his pictures As he walked up and down the gallery, hepaused before the landscapes, but only glanced at the historicalsubjects, while Salvator muttered from time to time, "_sempre, sempre, paesi piccoli_, " (always, always, some little landscape. ) When, atlength, the Cardinal carelessly glanced his eye over one of Salvator'sgreat historical pictures, and asked the price, as a sort ofintroduction, the painter bellowed out, _un milione_; his Eminence, justly offended, made an unceremonious retreat without making hisintended purchases, and returned no more. 

DON MARIO GHIGI, HIS PHYSICIAN, AND SALVATOR ROSA. 

(_From Lady Morgan's Life of Salvator Rosa. _)

The princes of the family of Ghigi had been among the first of thearistocratic virtuosi of Rome to acknowledge the merits of SalvatorRosa, as their ancestors had been to appreciate the genius of Raffaelle. Between the Prince Don Mario Ghigi, (whose brother Fabio was raised tothe pontifical throne by the name of Alexander VII. ) and Salvator, thereseems to have existed a personal intimacy; and the prince's fondness forthe painter's conversation was such, that during a long illness heinduced Salvator to bring his easel to his bedside, and to work in hischamber at a small picture he was then painting for the prince. Ithappened, that while Rosa was sketching and chatting by the prince'scouch, one of the most fashionable physicians in Rome entered theapartment. He appears to have been one of those professional coxcombs, whose pretensions, founded on unmerited vogue, throws ridicule on thegravest calling. 

After some trite remarks upon the art, the doctor, either to flatterSalvator, or in imitation of the physician of the Cardinal Colonna, whoasked for one of Raffaelle's finest pictures as a fee for saving theCardinal's life, requested Don Mario to give him a picture by Salvatoras a remuneration for his attendance. The prince willingly agreed to theproposal; and the doctor, debating on the subject he should choose, turned to Salvator and begged that he would not lay pencil to canvas, until _he_, the Signor Dottore, should find leisure to dictate to him_il pensiero e concetto della sua pittura_, the idea and conceit of hispicture! Salvator bowed a modest acquiescence, and went on with hissketch. The doctor having gone the round of professional questions withhis wonted pomposity, rose to write his prescription; when, as he satbefore the table with eyes upturned, and pen suspended over the paper, Salvator approached him on tiptoe, and drawing the pen gently throughhis fingers, with one of his old _Coviello_ gesticulations in hischaracter of the mountebank, he said, "_fermati dottor mio!_ stopdoctor, you must not lay pen to paper till I have leisure to dictate theidea and conceit of the prescription I may think proper for the maladyof his Excellency. "

"_Diavalo!_" cried the amazed physician, "you dictate a prescription!why, _I_ am the prince's physician, and not _you!_"

"And _I, Caro_, " said Salvator, "am a painter, and not _you_. I leave itto the prince whether I could not prove myself a better physician thanyou a painter; and write a better prescription than you paint apicture. "

The prince, much amused, decided in favor of the painter; Salvatorcoolly resumed his pencil, and the medical _cognoscente_ permitted theidea of the picture to die away, _sul proprio letto_. 

DEATH OF SALVATOR ROSA. 

Salvator Rosa, in his last illness, demanded of the priests and othersthat surrounded him, what they required of him. They replied, "in thefirst instance to receive the sacrament as it is administered in Rome tothe dying. " "To receive the sacrament, " says his confessor, Baldovini, "he showed no repugnance, but he vehemently and positively refused toallow the host, with all the solemn pomp of its procession, to bebrought to his house, which he deemed unworthy of the divine presence. "He objected to the ostentation of the ceremony, to its _éclat_, to thenoise and bustle, smoke and heat it would create in the close sickchamber. He appears to have objected to more than it was discreet toobject to in Rome: and all that his family and his confessor couldextort from him on the subject was, that he would permit himself to becarried from his bed to the parish church, and there, with the humilityof a contrite heart, would consent to receive the sacrament at the footof the altar. 

As immediate death might have been the consequence of this act ofindiscretion, his family, who were scarcely less interested for a lifeso precious, than for the soul which was the object of their piousapprehensions, gave up the point altogether; and on account of thevehemence with which Salvator spoke on the subject, and the agitation ithad occasioned, they carefully avoided renewing a proposition which hadrallied all his force of character and volition to their long abandonedpost. 

The rejection of a ceremony which was deemed in Rome indispensablynecessary to salvation, by one who was already stamped with the church'sreprobation, soon spread; report exaggerated the circumstance into apositive expression of infidelity; and the gossip of the Romanante-rooms was supplied for the time with a subject of discussion, inperfect harmony with their love for slander, bigotry, and idleness. 

"As I went forth from Salvator's door, " relates the worthy Baldovini, "Imet the _Canonico Scornio_, a man who has taken out a license to speakof all men as he pleases. 'And how goes it with Salvator?' demands thisCanonico of me. 'Bad enough, I fear. '--Well, a few nights back, happening to be in the anteroom of a certain great prelate, I foundmyself in the centre of a circle of disputants, who were busilydiscussing whether the aforesaid Salvator would die a Schismatic, aHuguenot, a Calvinist, or a Lutheran?--'He will die, Signor Canonico, ' Ireplied, 'when it pleases God, a better Catholic than any of those whonow speak so slightingly of him!'--and so pursued my way. "

This _Canonico_, whose sneer at the undecided faith of Salvator rousedall the bile of the tolerant and charitable Baldovini, was the nearneighbor of Salvator, a frequenter of his hospitable house, and one ofwhom the credulous Salvator speaks in one of his letters as being "hisneighbor, and an excellent gentleman. "

On the following day, as the Padre sat by the pillow of the sufferingRosa, he had the simplicity, in the garrulity of his heart, to repeatall these idle reports and malicious insinuations to the invalid: "But, "says Baldovini, "as I spoke, Rosa only shrugged his shoulders. "

Early on the morning of the fifteenth of March, that month so delightfulin Rome, the anxious and affectionate confessor, who seems to have beenalways at his post, ascended the Monte della Trinità, for the purpose oftaking up his usual station by the bed's head of the fast decliningSalvator. The young Agosto flew to meet him at the door, and with acountenance radiant with joy, informed him of the good news, that "hisdear father had given evident symptoms of recovery, in consequence ofthe bursting of an inward ulcer. "

Baldovini followed the sanguine boy to Iris father's chamber; but, toall appearance Salvator was suffering great agony. "How goes it withthee, Rosa?" asked Baldovini kindly, as he approached him. 

"Bad, bad!" was the emphatic reply. While writhing with pain, thesufferer added after a moment:--"To judge by what I now endure, the handof death grasps me sharply. "

In the restlessness of pain he then threw himself on the edge of thebed, and placed his head on the bosom of Lucrezia, who sat supportingand weeping over him. His afflicted son and friend took their station atthe other side of the couch, and stood in mournful silence watching theissue of these sudden and frightful spasms. At that moment a celebratedRoman physician, the Doctor Catanni, entered the apartment. He felt thepulse of Salvator, and perceived that he was fast sinking. Hecommunicated his approaching dissolution to those most interested in themelancholy intelligence, and it struck all present with unutterablegrief. Baldovini, however, true to his sacred calling, even in the depthof his human affliction, instantly despatched the young Agosto to theneighboring Convent della Trinità, for the holy Viaticum. While life wasstill fluttering at the heart of Salvator, the officiating priest ofthe day arrived, bearing with him the holy apparatus of the lastmysterious ceremony of the church. The shoulders of Salvator were laidbare, and anointed with the consecrated oil; some prayed fervently, others wept, and all even still hoped; but the taper which the DoctorCatanni held to the lips of Salvator while the Viaticum wasadministered, burned brightly and steadily! Life's last sigh hadtranspired, as religion performed her last rite. 

Between that luminous and soul-breathing form of genius, and the clod ofthe valley, there was now no difference; and the "end and object" of aman's brief existence was now accomplished in him who, while yet allyoung and ardent, had viewed the bitter perspective of humanity with aphilosophic eye and pronounced even on the bosom of pleasure, "Nasci poena--Vita labor--Necesse mori. "

On the evening of the fifteenth of March, 1673, all that remained of theauthor of Regulus, of Catiline, and the Satires--the gay Formica, thewitty Coviello--of the elegant composer, and greatest painter of histime and country--of Salvator Rosa! was conveyed to the tomb, in thechurch of Santa Maria degli Angioli alle Terme--that magnificent temple, unrivalled even at Rome in interest and grandeur, which now stands as itstood when it formed the Pinacotheca of the Thermæ of Dioclesian. There, accompanied by much funeral pomp, the body of Salvator lay in state;the head and face, according to the Italian custom, being exposed toview. All Rome poured into the vast circumference of the church, to takea last view of the painter of the Roman people--the "Nostro SignorSalvatore" of the Pantheon; and the popular feelings of regret andadmiration were expressed with the usual bursts of audible emotions inwhich Italian sensibility on such occasions loves to indulge. Some fewthere were, who gathered closely and in silence round the bier of thegreat master of the Neapolitan school; and who, weeping the loss of theman, forgot for a moment even that genius which had already secured itsown meed of immortality. These were Carlo Rossi, Francesco Baldovini, and Paolo Oliva, each of whom returned from the grave of the friend heloved, to record the high endowments and powerful talents of the painterhe admired, and the poet he revered. Baldovini retired to his cell towrite the Life of Salvator Rosa, and then to resign his own; Oliva tohis monastery, to compose the epitaph which is still read on the tomb ofhis friend; and Carlo Rossi to select from his gallery such works of hisbeloved painter, as might best adorn the walls of that chapel, nowexclusively consecrated to his memory. 

On the following night, the remains of Salvator Rosa were deposited, with all the awful forms of the Roman church, in a grave openedexpressly in the beautiful vestibule of Santa Maria degli Angioli alleTerme. Never did the ashes of departed genius find a more appropriateresting place;--the Pinacotheca of the Thermæ of Dioclesian had oncebeen the repository of all that the genius of antiquity had perfected inthe arts; and in the vast interval of time which had since elapsed, ithad suffered no change, save that impressed upon it by the mighty mindof Michael Angelo. --_Lady Morgan. _

DOMENICHINO. 

This great artist is now universally esteemed the most distinguisheddisciple of the school of the Caracci, and the learned Count Algarottiprefers him even to the Caracci themselves. Poussin ranked him nextafter Raffaelle, and Passeri has expressed nearly the same opinion. Hewas born at Bologna in 1581, and received his first instruction fromDenis Calvart, but having been treated with severity by that master, whohad discovered him making a drawing after Annibale Caracci, contrary tohis injunction, Domenichino prevailed upon his father to remove him fromthe school of Calvart, and place him in the Academy of the Caracci, where Guido and Albano were then students. 

THE DULLNESS OF DOMENICHINO IN YOUTH. 

The great talents of Domenichino did not develop themselves so early asin many other great painters. He was assiduous, thoughtful andcircumspect; which his companions attributed to dullness, and theycalled him the Ox; but the intelligent Annibale Caracci, who observedhis faculties with more attention, testified of his abilities by sayingto his pupils, "this Ox will in time surpass you all, and be an honor tothe art of painting. " It was the practice in this celebrated school tooffer prizes to the pupils for the best drawings, to excite them toemulation, and every pupil was obliged to hand in his drawing at certainperiods. It was not long after Domenichino entered this school beforeone of these occasions took place, and while his fellow-students broughtin their works with confidence, he timidly approached and presented his, which he would gladly have withheld. Lodovico Caracci, after havingexamined the whole, adjudged the prize to Domenichino. This triumph, instead of rendering him confident and presumptuous, only stimulated himto greater assiduity, and he pursued his studies with such patient andconstant application, that he made such progress as to win theadmiration of some of his cotemporaries, and to beget the hatred ofothers. He contracted a friendship with Albano, and on leaving theschool of the Caracci, they visited together, Parma, Modena, and Reggio, to contemplate the works of Correggio and Parmiggiano. On their returnto Bologna, Albano went to Rome, whither Domenichino soon followed him, and commenced his bright career. 

The student may learn a useful lesson from the untiring industry, patience, and humility of this great artist. Passeri attributes hisgrand achievements more to his amazing study than to his genius; andsome have not hesitated to deny that he possessed any genius at all--anopinion which his works abundantly refute. Lanzi says, "From his actingas a continual censor of his own productions, he became among his fellowpupils the most exact and expressive designer, his colors most true tonature, and of the best _impasto_, the most universal master in thetheory of his art, the sole painter amongst them all in whom Mengs foundnothing to desire except a little more elegance. That he might devotehis whole being to the art, he shunned all society, or if heoccasionally sought it in the public theatres and markets, it was inorder better to observe the play of nature's passions in the features ofthe people--those of joy, anger, grief, terror, and every affection ofthe mind, and commit it living to his tablets. Thus it was, exclaimsBellori, that he succeeded in delineating the soul, in coloring life, and raising those emotions in our breasts at which his works all aim; asif he waved the same wand which belonged to the poetical enchanters, Tasso and Ariosto. "

DOMENICHINO'S SCOURGING OF ST. ANDREW. 

Domenichino was employed by the Cardinal Borghese, to paint incompetition with Guido, the celebrated frescos in the church of S. Gregorio at Rome. Both artists painted the same subject, but the formerrepresented the _Scourging of St. Andrew_, and the latter _St. Andrewled away to the Gibbet_. Lanzi says it is commonly reported that an agedwoman, accompanied by a little boy, was seen long wistfully engaged inviewing Domenichino's picture, showing it part by part to the boy, andnext, turning to that of Guido, painted directly opposite, she gave it acursory glance and passed on. Some assert that Annibale Caracci tookoccasion, from this circumstance, to give his preference to the formerpicture. It is also related that while Domenichino was painting one ofthe executioners, he actually threw himself into a passion, using highthreatening words and actions, and that Annibale, surprising him at thatmoment, embraced him, exclaiming, "To-day, my Domenichino, thou artteaching me"--so novel, and at the same time so natural did it appear tohim, that the artist, like the orator, should feel within himself allthat he would represent to others. 

THE COMMUNION OF ST. JEROME. 

The chef-d'oeuvre of Domenichino is the dying St. Jerome receiving thelast rites of his church, commonly called the Communion of St. Jerome, painted for the principal altar of St. Girolamo della Carita. This workhas immortalized his name, and is universally allowed to be the finestpicture Rome can boast after the Transfiguration of Raffaelle. It wastaken to Paris by Napoleon, restored in 1815 by the Allies, and hassince been copied in mosaic, to preserve so grand a work, the originalhaving suffered greatly from the effects of time. Lanzi says, "One greatattraction in the church paintings of Domenichino, consists in the gloryof the angels, exquisitely beautiful in feature, full of lively action, and so introduced as to perform the most gracious offices in the piece, as the crowning of martyrs, the bearing of palms, the scattering ofroses, weaving the mazy dance, and making sweet melodies. "

DOMENICHINO'S ENEMIES AT ROME. 

The reputation which Domenichino had justly acquired at Rome had excitedthe jealousy of some of his cotemporaries, and the applause bestowedupon his Communion of St. Jerome, only served to increase it. The Cav. Lanfranco in particular, one of his most inveterate enemies, assertedthat the Communion of St. Jerome was little more than a copy of the samesubject by Agostino Caracci, at the Certosa at Bologna, and he employedPerrier, one of his pupils, to make an etching from the picture byAgostino. But this stratagem, instead of confirming the plagiarism, discovered the calumny, as it proved that there was no more resemblancebetween the two works than must necessarily result in two artiststreating the same subject, and that every essential part, and all thatwas admired was entirely his own. If it had been possible for modestmerit to have repelled the shafts of slander, the work which he executedimmediately afterwards in the church of S. Lodovico, representing thelife of St. Cecilia, would have silenced the attacks of envy andmalevolence; but they only tended to increase the alarm of hiscompetitors, and excite them to redoubled injustice and malignity. Disgusted with these continued cabals, Domenichino quitted Rome, andreturned to Bologna, where he resided several years in the quietpractice of his profession, and executed some of his most admired works, particularly the Martyrdom of St. Agnes for the church of that Saint, and the Madonna del Rosario, both of which were engraved by GerardAudran, and taken to Paris and placed in the Louvre by order ofNapoleon. The fame of Domenichino was now so well established thatintrigue and malice could not suppress it, and Pope Gregory XV. Invitedhim back to Rome, and appointed him principal painter, and architect tothe pontifical palace. 

DECISION OF POSTERITY ON THE MERITS OF DOMENICHINO. 

"The public, " says Lanzi, "is an equitable judge; but a good cause isnot always sufficient without the advantage of many voices to sustainit. Domenichino, timid, retiring, and master of few pupils, wasdestitute of a party equal to his cause. He was constrained to yield tothe crowd that trampled upon him, thus verifying the prediction ofMonsignore Agucchi, that his merits would never be rightly appreciatedduring his life-time. The spirit of party having passed away, impartialposterity has rendered him justice; nor is there a royal gallery butconfesses an ambition to possess his works. His figure pieces are in thehighest esteem, and command enormous prices. "

PROOF OF THE MERITS OF DOMENICHINO. 

No better proof of the exalted merits of Domenichino can be desired, than the fact that upwards of fifty of his works have been engraved bythe most renowned engravers, as Gerard Audran, Raffaelle Morghen, SirRobert Strange, C. F. Von Muller, and other illustrious artists; many ofthese also have been frequently repeated. 

DOMENICHINO'S CARICATURES. 

While Domenichino was in Naples, he was visited by his biographerPasseri, then a young man, who was engaged to assist in repairing thepictures in the Cardinal's chapel. "When he arrived at Frescati, " saysPasseri, "Domenichino received me with much courtesy, and hearing that Itook a singular delight in the belles-lettres, it increased his kindnessto me. I remember that I gazed on this man as though he were an angel. Iremained there to the end of September, occupied in restoring thechapel of St. Sebastian, which had been ruined by the damp. SometimesDomenichino would join us, singing delightfully to recreate himself. When night set in, we returned to our apartment; while he mostfrequently remained in his room, occupied in drawing, and permittingnone to see him. Sometimes, however, to pass the time, he drewcaricatures of us all, and of the inhabitants of the villa. When hesucceeded to his perfect satisfaction, he was wont to indulge inimmoderate fits of laughter; and we, who were in the adjoining room, would run in to know his reason, when he showed us his spiritedsketches. He drew a caricature of me with a guitar, one of Carmini (thepainter), and one of the Guarda Roba, who was lame of the gout; and ofthe Sub-guarda Roba, a most ridiculous figure--to prevent our beingoffended, he caricatured himself. These portraits are now preserved bySignor Giovanni Pietro Bellori. "

INTRIGUES OF THE NEAPOLITAN TRIUMVIRATE OF PAINTERS. 

The conspiracy of Bellisario Corenzio, Giuseppe Ribera, and Gio. Battista Caracciolo, called the Neapolitan Triumvirate of Painters, tomonopolize to themselves all valuable commissions, and particularly thehonor of decorating the chapel of St. Januarius, is one of the mostcurious passages in the history of art. The following is Lanzi's accountof this disgraceful cabal:

"The three masters whom I have just noticed in successive order, (Corenzio, Ribera, and Caracciolo) were the authors of the unceasingpersecutions which many of the artists who had come to, or were invitedto Naples, were for several years subjected to. Bellisario hadestablished a supreme dominion, or rather a tyranny, over the Neapolitanpainters, by calumny and insolence, as well as by his station. Hemonopolized all lucrative commissions to himself, and recommended, forthe fulfilment of others, one or other of the numerous and inferiorartists that were dependent on him. The Cav. Massimo Stanziozi, Santafede, and other artists of talent, if they did not defer to him, were careful not to offend him, as they knew him to be a man of avindictive temper, treacherous, and capable of every violence, and whowas known, through jealousy, to have administered poison to LuigiRoderigo, the most promising and the most amiable of his scholars. 

"Bellisario, in order to maintain himself in his assumed authority, endeavored to exclude all strangers who painted in fresco rather than inoil. Annibale Caracci arrived there in 1609, and was engaged to ornamentthe churches of Spirito Santo and Gesu Nuovo, for which, as a specimenof his style, he painted a small picture. The Greek and his adherentsbeing required to give their opinion on this exquisite production, declared it to be tasteless, and decided that the painter of it did notpossess talent for large compositions. This divine artist inconsequence took his departure under a burning sun, for Rome, where hesoon afterwards died. But the work in which strangers were the mostopposed was the chapel of S. Gennaro, which a committee had assigned tothe Cav. D'Arpino, as soon as he should finish painting the choir of theCertosa. Bellisorio, leaguing with Spagnoletto (like himself a fierceand ungovernable man) and with Caracciolo, who aspired to thiscommission, persecuted Cesari in such a manner, that before he hadfinished the choir he fled to Monte Cassino, and from thence returned toRome. The work was then given to Guido, but after a short time twounknown persons assaulted the servant of that artist, and at the sametime desired him to inform his master that he must prepare himself fordeath, or instantly quit Naples, with which latter mandate Guidoimmediately complied. Gessi, the scholar of Guido, was not howeverintimidated by this event, but applied for, and obtained the honorablecommission, and came to Naples with two assistants, Gio. BatistaRuggieri and Lorenzo Menini. But these artists were scarcely arrived, when they were treacherously invited on board a galley, whichimmediately weighed anchor and carried them off, to the great dismay oftheir master, who although he made the most diligent inquiries both atRome and Naples, could never procure any tidings of them. 

"Gessi in consequence also taking his departure, the committee lost allhope of succeeding in their task, and were in the act of yielding tothe reigning cabal, assigning the fresco work to Corenzio andCaracciolo, and promising the pictures to Spagnoletto, when suddenlyrepenting of their resolution, they effaced all that was painted of thetwo frescos, and intrusted the decoration of the chapel entirely toDomenichino. It ought to be mentioned to the honor of these munificentpersons, that they engaged to pay for every entire figure, 100 ducats, for each half-figure 50 ducats, and for each head 25 ducats. They tookprecautions also against any interruption to the artist, threatening theViceroy's high displeasure if he were in any way molested. But this wasonly matter of derision to the junta. They began immediately to cry himdown as a cold and insipid painter, and to discredit him with those, themost numerous class in every place, who see only with the eyes ofothers. They harassed him by calumnies, by anonymous letters, bydisplacing his pictures, by mixing injurious ingredients with hiscolors, and by the most insidious malice they procured some of hispictures to be sent by the viceroy to the court of Madrid; and these, when little more than sketched, were taken from his studio and carriedto the court, where Spagnoletto ordered them to be retouched, and, without giving him time to finish them, hurried them to theirdestination. This malicious fraud of his rival, the complaints of thecommittee, who always met with some fresh obstacle to the completion ofthe work, and the suspicion of some evil design, at last determinedDomenichino to depart secretly to Rome. As soon however as the news ofhis flight transpired, he was recalled, and fresh measures taken for hisprotection; when he resumed his labors, and decorated the walls and baseof the cupola, and made considerable progress in the painting of hispictures. 

"But before he could finish his task he was interrupted by death, hastened either by poison, or by the many severe vexations he hadexperienced both from his relatives and his adversaries, and the weightof which was augmented by the arrival of his former enemy Lanfranco. This artist superceded Zampieri in the painting of the basin of thechapel; Spagnoletto, in one of his oil pictures; Stanzioni in another;and each of these artists, excited by emulation, rivaled, if he did notexcel, Domenichino. Caracciolo was dead. Bellisario, from his great age, took no share in it, and was soon afterwards killed by a fall from astage, which he had erected for the purpose of retouching some of hisfrescos. Nor did Spagnoletto experience a better fate; for, havingseduced a young girl, and become insupportable even to himself from thegeneral odium which he experienced, he embarked on board a ship; nor isit known whither he fled, or how he ended his life, if we may credit theNeapolitan writers. Palomino, however, states him to have died in Naplesin 1656, aged sixty-seven, though he does not contradict the first partof our statement. Thus these ambitious men, who by violence or fraudhad influenced and abused the generosity and taste of so many noblepatrons, and to whose treachery and sanguinary vengeance so manyprofessors of the art had fallen victims, ultimately reaped the meritedfruit of their conduct in a violent death; and an impartial posterity, in assigning the palm of merit to Domenichino, inculcates the maxim, that it is a delusive hope to attempt to establish fame and fortune onthe destruction of another's reputation. "

GIUSEPPE RIBERA, CALLED IL SPAGNOLETTO--HIS EARLY POVERTY AND INDUSTRY. 

José Ribera, a native of Valencia in Spain, studied for some time underFrancisco Ribalta, and afterwards found his way to Italy. At the age ofsixteen, he was living in Rome, in a very destitute condition;subsisting on crusts, clothed in rags, yet endeavoring with unswervingdiligence to improve himself in art by copying the frescos on thefaçades of palaces, or at the shrines on the corners of the streets. Hispoverty and industry attracted the notice of a compassionate Cardinal, who happened to see him at work from his coach-window; and he providedthe poor boy with clothes, and food, and lodging in his own palace. Ribera soon found, however, that to be clad in good raiment, and to fareplentifully every day, weakened his powers of application; he neededthe spur of want to arouse him to exertion; and therefore, after a shorttrial of a life in clover, beneath the shelter of the purple, hereturned to his poverty and his studies in the streets. The Cardinal wasat first highly incensed at his departure, and when he next saw him, rated him soundly as an ungrateful little Spaniard; but being informedof his motives, and observing his diligence, his anger was turned toadmiration. He renewed his offers of protection, which, however, Riberathankfully declined. 

RIBERA'S MARRIAGE. 

Ribera's adventure with the Cardinal, and his abilities, soondistinguished him among the crowd of young artists in Rome. He becameknown by the name which still belongs to him, Il Spagnoletto, (thelittle Spaniard, ) and as an imitator of Michael Angelo Caravaggio, thebold handling of whose works, and their powerful effects of light andshade, pleased his vigorous mind. Finding Rome overstocked with artists, he went to Naples, where he made the acquaintance of a richpicture-dealer. The latter was so much pleased with Ribera's genius, that be offered him his beautiful and well-dowered daughter in marriage. The Valencian, not less proud than poor, at first resented this proposalas an unseasonable pleasantry upon his forlorn condition; but at lastfinding that it was made in good faith, he took "the good the godsprovided, " and at once stepped from solitary indigence into thepossession of a handsome wife, a comfortable home, a present field ofprofitable labor, and a prospect of future opulence. 

RIBERA'S RISE TO EMINENCE. 

Ease and prosperity now rather stimulated than relaxed his exertions. Choosing for his subject the Flaying of St. Bartholomew, he painted thathorrible martyrdom with figures of life-size, so fearfully truthful tonature that when exposed to the public in the street, it immediatelyattracted a crowd of shuddering gazers. The place of exhibition beingwithin view of the royal palace, the eccentric Viceroy, Don Pedro deGiron, Duke of Ossuna, who chanced to be taking the air on his balcony, inquired the cause of the unusual concourse, and ordered the picture andthe artist to be brought into his presence. Being well pleased withboth, he purchased the one for his own gallery, and appointed the otherhis court painter, with a monthly salary of sixty doubloons, and thesuperintendence of all decorations in the palace. 

RIBERA'S DISCOVERY OF THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE. 

Ribera seems to have been a man of considerable social talent, lively inconversation, and dealing in playful wit and amusing sarcasm. Dominicirelates that two Spanish officers, visiting at his house one day, entered upon a serious discussion on the subject of alchemy. The host, finding their talk some what tedious, gravely informed them that he himself happened to be in possession of the philosopher's stone, and thatthey might, if they pleased, see his way of using it, the next morningat his studio. The military adepts were punctual to their appointment, and found their friend at work, not in a mysterious laboratory, but athis easel, on a half-length picture of St. Jerome. Entreating them torestrain their eagerness, he painted steadily on, finished his picture, sent it out by his servant, and received a small rouleau in return. Thishe broke open in the presence of his visitors, and throwing ten golddoubloons on the table, said, "Learn of me how gold is to be made; I doit by painting, you by serving his majesty--diligence in business is theonly true alchemy. " The officers departed somewhat crest-fallen, neitherrelishing the jest, nor likely to reap any benefit from it. 

RIBERA'S SUBJECTS. 

His subjects are generally austere, representing anchorets, prophets, apostles, &c. , and frequently of the most revolting character, such assanguinary executions, martyrdoms, horrid punishments, and lingeringtorments, which he represented with a startling fidelity thatintimidates and shocks the beholder. His paintings are very numerous, and his drawings and etchings are highly esteemed by connoisseurs. 

RIBERA'S DISPOSITION. 

The talents of this great painter, seem to have been obscured by a crueland revengeful disposition, partaking of the character of his works. Hewas one of the triumvirate of painters, who assassinated, persecuted, ordrove every talented foreign painter from Naples, that they mightmonopolize the business. He was also a reckless libertine, and, according to Dominici, having seduced a beautiful girl, he was seizedwith such remorse for his many crimes, as to become insupportable tohimself; and to escape the general odium which was heaped upon him, hefled from Naples on board a ship, and was never heard of more. Thisstory however is doubtless colored, for, according to Palomino andseveral other writers, Ribera died at Naples in 1656. See page 132 ofthis volume. 

SINGULAR PICTORIAL ILLUSIONS. 

Over a certain fountain in Rome, there was a cornice so skilfullypainted, that the birds were deceived, and trying to alight on it, frequently fell into the water beneath. Annibale Caracci painted someornaments on a ceiling of the Farnese palace, which the Duke of Sessa, Spanish ambassador to the Pope, took for sculptures, and would notbelieve they were painted on a flat ground, until he had touched themwith a lance. Agostino Caracci painted a horse, which deceived theliving animal--a triumph so celebrated in Apelles. Juan Sanchez Cotan, painted at Granada a "Crucifixion, " on the cross of which Palomino saysbirds often attempted to perch, and which at first sight the keen-eyedCean Bermudez mistook for a piece of sculpture. The reputation of thispainter stood so high, that Vincenzio Carducci traveled from Madrid toGranada on purpose to see him; and he is said to have recognized himamong the white-robed fraternity of which he was a member, by observingin the expression of his countenance, a certain affinity to the spiritof his works. 

It is related of Murillo's picture of St. Anthony of Padua, that thebirds, wandering up and down the aisles of the cathedral at Seville, have often attempted to perch upon a vase of white lilies painted on atable in the picture, and to peck at the flowers. The preëminent modernZeuxis, however, was Pierre Mignard, whose portrait of the Marquise deGouvernet was accosted by that lady's pet parrot, with an affectionate"_Baise moi, ma maitresse!_"

RAFFAELLE'S SKILL IN PORTRAITS. 

Raffaelle was transcendant not only in history, but in portrait. Hisportraits have deceived even persons most intimately acquainted with theoriginals. Lanzi says he painted a picture of Leo X. So full of life, that the Cardinal Datary approached it with a bull and pen and ink, forthe Pope's signature. A similar story is related of Titian. 

JACOPO DA PONTE. 

Count Algarotti relates, that Annibale Caracci was so deceived by a bookpainted upon a table by Jacopo da Ponte, that he stretched out his handto take it up. Bassano was highly honored by Paul Veronese, who placedhis son Carletto under him as a pupil, to receive his generalinstructions, "and more particularly in regard to that just dispositionof lights reflected from one object to another, and in those happycounterpositions, owing to which the depicted objects seemed clothedwith a profusion of light. "

GIOVANNI ROSA. 

Giovanni Rosa, a Fleming who flourished at Rome in the first part of theseventeenth century, was famous for his pictures of animals. "He paintedhares so naturally as to deceive the dogs, which would rush at themfuriously, thus renewing the wonderful story of Zeuxis and his Grapes, so much boasted of by Pliny. "

CAV. GIOVANNI CONTARINI. 

This artist was a close imitator of Titian. He was extremely accurate inhis portraits, which he painted with force, sweetness, and stronglikeness. He painted a portrait of Marco Dolce, and when the picture wassent home, his dogs began to fawn upon it, mistaking it for theirmaster. 

GUERCINO'S POWER OF RELIEF. 

The style of Guercino displays a strong contrast of light and shadow, both exceedingly bold, yet mingled with great sweetness and harmony, anda powerful effect in relief, a branch of art so much admired byprofessors. "Hence, " says Lanzi, "some foreigners bestowed upon him thetitle of the Magician of Italian painting, for in him were renewed thosecelebrated illusions of antiquity. He painted a basket of grapes sonaturally that a ragged urchin stretched out his hand to steal some ofthe fruit. Often, in comparing the figures of Guido with those ofGuercino, one would say that the former had been fed with roses, and thelatter with flesh, as observed by one of the ancients. "

BERNAZZANO. 

Lanzi says, "In painting landscape, fruit, and flowers, Bernazzanosucceeded so admirably as to produce the same wonderful effects that aretold of Zeuxis and Apelles in Greece. These indeed Italian artists havefrequently renewed, though with a less degree of applause. Havingpainted a strawberry-bed in a court yard, the pea-fowls were sodeceived by the resemblance, that they pecked at the wall till they haddestroyed the painting. He painted the landscape part of a picture ofthe Baptism of Christ, and on the ground drew some birds in the act offeeding. On its being placed in the open air, the birds were seen to flytowards the picture, to join their companions. This beautiful picture isone of the chief ornaments in the gallery of the distinguished family ofthe Trotti at Milan. "

INVENTION OF OIL PAINTING. 

There has been a world of discussion on this subject, but there can beno doubt that John van Eyck, called John of Bruges, and by the Italians, Giovanni da Bruggia, and Gio. Abeyk or Eyck, is entitled to the honor ofthe invention of Oil Painting as applied to pictures, though Mr. Raspe, the celebrated antiquary, in his treatise on the invention of OilPainting, has satisfactorily proved that Oil Painting was practised inItaly as early as the 11th century, but only as a means of protectingmetalic substances from rust. 

According to van Mander, the method of painting in Flanders previous tothe time of the van Eycks, was with gums, or a preparation calledegg-water, to which a kind of varnish was afterwards applied infinishing, which required a certain degree of heat to dry. John van Eyckhaving worked a long time on a picture and finished it with great care, placed it in the sun-shine to dry, when the board on which it waspainted split and spoiled the work. His disappointment at seeing so muchlabor lost, urged him to attempt the discovery, by his knowledge ofchemistry, of some process which would not in future expose him to suchan unfortunate accident. In his researches, he discovered the use oflinseed and nut oil, which he found most siccative. This is generallybelieved to have happened about 1410. There is however, a great deal ofcontradiction among writers as to the van Eycks, no two writers beingfound to agree. Some assert that John van Eyck introduced his inventionboth into Italy and Spain, while others declare that he never left hisown country, which would seem to be true. Vasari, the first writer onItalian art, awards the invention to Giovanni da Bruggia, and gives anaccount of its first introduction into Italy by Antonello da Messina, aswe shall presently see. But Dominici asserts that oil painting was knownand practised at Naples by artists whose names had been forgotten longbefore the time of van Eyck. Many other Italian writers have engaged inthe controversy, and cited many instances of pictures which theysupposed to have been painted in oil at Milan, Pisa, Naples, andelsewhere, as early as the 13th, 12th, and even the 9th centuries. Butto proceed with the brothers van Eyck, John and Hubert--they generallypainted in concert till the death of Hubert, and executed many works inoil, which were held in the highest estimation at the time when theyflourished. Their most important work was an altar-piece, with foldingdoors, painted for Jodocus Vyts, who placed it in the church of St. Bavon at Ghent. The principal picture in this curious productionrepresents the Adoration of the Lamb as described by St. John in theRevelations. On one of the folding doors is represented Adam and Eve, and on the other, St. Cecilia. This extraordinary work contains overthree hundred figures, and is finished with the greatest care andexactness. It was formerly in the Louvre, but it is now unfortunatelydivided into two parts, one of which is at Berlin, and the other atGhent. Philip I. Of Spain desired to purchase it, but finding thatimpracticable, he employed Michael Coxis to copy it, who spent two yearsin doing: it, for which he received 4, 000 florins. The king placed thiscopy in the Escurial, and this probably gave rise to the story that Johnvan Eyck visited Spain and introduced his discovery into that country. In the sacristy of the cathedral at Bruges is preserved with greatveneration, a picture painted by John van Eyck, after the death ofHubert, representing the Virgin and Infant, with St. George, St. Donatius, and other saints. It is dated 1436. John died in 1441. 

According to Vasari, the fame of Masaccio drew Antonello da Messina toRome; from thence he proceeded to Naples, where he saw some oilpaintings by John van Eyck, which had been brought to Naples fromFlanders, by some Neapolitan merchants, and presented or sold toAlphonso I. , King of Naples. The novelty of the invention, and thebeauty of the coloring inspired Antonello with so strong a desire tobecome possessed of the secret, that he went to Bruges, and so faringratiated himself into the favor of van Eyck, then advanced in years, that he instructed him in the art. Antonello afterwards returned toVenice, where he secretly practised the art for some time, communicatingit only to Domenico Veneziano, his favorite scholar. Veneziano settledat Florence, where his works were greatly admired both on account oftheir excellence and the novelty of the process. Here he unfortunatelyformed a connexion with Andrea del Castagno, an eminent Tuscan painter, who treacherously murdered Domenico, that he might become, as hesupposed, the sole possessor of the secret. Castagno artfully concealedthe atrocious deed till on his death-bed, when struck with remorse, heconfessed the crime for which innocent persons had suffered. Vasari alsosays that Giovanni Bellini obtained the art surreptitiously fromMessina, by disguising himself and sitting for his portrait, thusgaining an opportunity to observe his method of operating; but Lanzi hasshown that Messina made the method public on receiving a pension fromthe Venetian Senate. Many writers have appeared, who deny the abovestatement of Vasari; but Lanzi, who carefully investigated the wholesubject, finds no just reason to claim for his countrymen priority ofthe invention, or to doubt the correctness of Vasari's statement in themain. Those old paintings at Milan, Pisa, Naples, Vienna, and elsewhere, have been carefully examined and proved to have been painted inencaustic or distemper. This subject will be found fully discussed inSpooner's Dictionary of Painters, Engravers, Sculptors, and Architects, under the articles John and Hubert van Eyck, Antonello da Messina, Domenico Veneziano, Andrea del Castagno, and Roger of Bruges. 

FORESHORTENING. 

Foreshortening is the art of representing figures and objects as theyappear to the eye, viewed in positions varying from the perpendicular. The meaning of the term is exemplified in the celebrated Ascension, inthe Pietá dé Tárchini, at Naples, by Luca Giordano, in which the body ofChrist is so much foreshortened, that the toes appear to touch theknees, and the knees the chin. This art is one of the most difficult inpainting, and though absurdly claimed as a modern invention, was wellknown to the ancients. Pliny speaks expressly of its having beenpractised by Parrhasius and Pausias. Many writers erroneously attributethe invention to Correggio; but Lanzi says, "it was discovered andenlarged by Melozzo da Forli, improved by Andrea Mantegna and hisschool, and perfected by Correggio and others. " About the year 1472, Melozzo painted his famous fresco of the Ascension in the great chapelof the Santi Apostoli at Rome. Vasari says of this work, "the figure ofChrist is so admirably foreshortened, as to appear to pierce the vault;and in the same manner, the Angels are seen sweeping through the fieldsof air in different directions. " This work was so highly esteemed thatwhen the chapel was rebuilt in 1711, the painting was cut out of theceiling with the greatest care, and placed in the Quirinal palace, whereit is still preserved. 

METHOD OF TRANSFERRING PAINTINGS FROM WALLS AND PANELS TO CANVASS. 

According to Lanzi, Antonio Contri discovered a valuable process, bymeans of which he was enabled to transfer fresco paintings from walls tocanvass, without the least injury to the work, and thus preserved manyvaluable paintings by the great masters, which obtained him widecelebrity and profitable employment. For this purpose, he spread upon apiece of canvass of the size of the painting to be transferred, acomposition of glue or bitumen, and placed it upon the picture. Whenthis was sufficiently dry, he beat the wall carefully with a mallet, cutthe plaster around it, and applied to the canvass a wooden frame, wellpropped, to sustain it, and then, after a few days, cautiously removedthe canvass, which brought the painting with it; and having extended itupon a smooth table he applied to the back of it another canvassprepared with a more adhesive composition than the former. After a fewdays, he examined the two pieces of canvass, detached the first by meansof warm water, which left the whole painting upon the second as it wasoriginally upon the wall. 

Contri was born at Ferrara about 1660, and died in 1732. Palmaroli, anItalian painter of the present century, rendered his name famous, andconferred a great benefit on art by his skill in transferring to canvasssome of the frescos and other works of the great masters. In 1811 hetransferred the famous fresco of the Descent from the Cross by Danielloda Volterra (erroneously said, as related above, to have been the firsteffort of the kind), which gained him immense reputation. He wasemployed to restore a great number of works at Rome, and in otherplaces. He was invited to Germany, where, among other works, hetransferred the Madonna di San Sisto, by Raffaelle, from the originalpanel, which was worm-eaten and decayed, and thus preserved one of themost famous works of that prince of painters. At the present time, thisart is practised with success in various European cities, particularlyin London and Paris. 

WORKS IN SCAGLIOLA. 

Guido Fassi, called del Conte, a native of Carpi, born in 1584, was theinventor of a valuable kind of work in imitation of marble, called bythe Italians _Scagliola_ or _Mischia_, which was subsequently carried togreat perfection, and is now largely employed in the imitation of worksin marble. The stone called _selenite_ forms the principal ingredient. This is pulverized, mixed with colors and certain adhesive substanceswhich gradually become as hard as stone, capable of receiving a highpolish. Fassi made his first trials on cornices, and gave them theappearance of fine marble, and there remain two altar-pieces by him inthe churches of Carpi. From him, the method rapidly spread over Italy, and many artists engaged in this then new art. Annibale Griffoni, apupil of Fassi, applied the art to monuments. Giovanni Cavignani, also apupil of Fassi, far surpassed his master, and executed an altar of St. Antonio, for the church of S. Niccolo, at Carpi, which is still pointedout as something extraordinary. It consists of two columns of porphyryadorned with a pallium, covered with lace, which last is an exactimitation of the covering of an altar, while it is ornamented in themargin with medals, bearing beautiful figures. In the Cathedral atCarpi, is a monument by one Ferrari, which so perfectly imitates marblethat it cannot be distinguished from it, except by fracture. It has thelook and touch of marble. Lanzi, from whom these facts are obtained, says that these artists ventured upon the composition of pictures, intended to represent engravings as well as oil paintings, and thatthere are several such works, representing even historical subjects, inthe collections of Carpi. Lanzi considers this art of so muchimportance, that he thus concludes his article upon it: "After thepractice of modeling had been brought to vie with sculpture, and afterengraving upon wood had so well counterfeited works of design, we haveto record this third invention, belonging to a State of no greatdimensions. Such a fact is calculated to bring into higher estimationthe geniuses who adorned it. There is nothing of which man is moreambitious, than of being called an inventor of new arts; nothing is moreflattering to his intellect, or draws a broader line between him and theanimals. Nothing was held in higher reverence by the ancients, and henceit is that Virgil, in his Elysian Fields, represented the band ofinventors with their brows bound with white chaplets, equally distinctin merit as in rank, from the more vulgar shades around them. "

THE GOLDEN AGE OF PAINTING. 

"We have now arrived, " says Lanzi, "at the most brilliant period of theRoman school, and of modern painting itself. We have seen the artcarried to a high degree of perfection by Da Vinci and Buonarotti, atthe beginning of the sixteenth century, and it is remarkable that thesame period embraces not only Rafaelle, but also Correggio, Giorgione, Titian, and the most celebrated Venetian painters; so that a manenjoying the common term of life might have seen the works of all theseillustrious masters. The art in a few years thus reached a height towhich it had never before attained, and which has never been rivalled, except in the attempt to imitate these early masters, or to unite in onestyle their various and divided excellencies. It seems an ordinary lawof providence that individuals of consummate genius should be born andflourish at the same period, or at least at short intervals from eachother, a circumstance of which Velleius Paterculus protested he couldnever discover the real cause. 'I observe, ' he says, 'men of the samecommanding genius making their appearance together, in the smallestpossible space of time; as it happens in the case of animals ofdifferent kinds, which, confined in a close place, nevertheless, eachselects its own class, and those of a kindred race separate themselvesfrom the rest. A single age sufficed to illustrate Tragedy, in thepersons of Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides: ancient comedy underCratinus, Aristophanes, and Eumolpides, and in like manner the newcomedy under Menander, Diphilus, and Philemon. There appeared fewphilosophers of note after the days of Plato and Aristotle, and whoeverhas made himself acquainted with Isocrates and his school, is acquaintedwith the summit of Grecian eloquence. ' The same remark applies to othercountries. The great Roman writers are included under the single age ofOctavius: Leo X. Was the Augustus of modern Italy; the reign of LouisXIV. Was the brilliant period of French letters; that of Charles II. Ofthe English. "

This rule applies equally to the fine arts. _Hoc idem_, proceedsVelleius, _evenisse plastis, pictoribus, sculptoribus, quisquis temporuminstiterit notis reperiet, et eminentiam cujusque operis artissimistemporum claustris circumdatum_. Of this union of men of genius in thesame age, _Causus_, he says, _quum sempre requiro, numquam invenio quasveras confidam_. It seems to him probable that when a man finds thefirst station in art occupied by another, he considers it as a post thathas been rightfully seized on, and no longer aspires to the possessionof it, but is humiliated, and contented to follow at a distance. Butthis solution does not satisfy my mind. It may indeed account to us whyno other Michael Angelo, or Raffaelle, has ever appeared; but it doesnot satisfy me why these two, and the others before mentioned, shouldall have appeared in the same age. I am of opinion that the age isalways influenced by certain principles, universally adopted both byprofessors of the art, and by amateurs; which principles happening at aparticular period to be the most just and accurate of their kind, produce in that age some preëminent professors, and a number of goodones. These principles change through the instability of all humanaffairs, and the age partakes in the change. I may add that these happyperiods never occur without the circumstance of a number of princes andinfluential individuals rivalling each other in the encouragement ofworks of taste; and amidst these there always arise persons ofcommanding genius, who give a bias and tone to art. The history ofsculpture in Athens, where munificence and taste went hand in hand, favors my opinion, and it is confirmed by this golden period of Italianart. Nevertheless, I do not pretend to give a verdict on this importantquestion, but leave the decision of it to a more competent tribunal. 

GOLDEN AGE OF THE FINE ARTS IN ANCIENT ROME. 

"The reign of Augustus was the golden age of science and the fine arts. Grecian architecture at that period was so encouraged at Rome, thatAugustus could with reason boast of having left a city of marble wherehe had found one of brick. In the time of the Cæsars, fourteenmagnificent aqueducts, supported by immense arches, conducted wholerivers to Rome, from a distance of many miles, and supplied 150 publicfountains, 118 large public baths, besides the water necessary for thoseartificial seas in which naval combats were represented: 100, 000 statuesornamented the public squares, the temples, the streets, and the houses;90 colossal statues raised on pedestals; 48 obelisks of Egyptiangranite, besides, adorned various parts of the city; nor was thisstupendous magnificence confined to Rome, or even to Italy. All theprovinces of the vast empire were embellished by Augustus and hissuccessors, by the opulent nobles, by the tributary kings and theallies, with temples, circuses, theatres, palaces, aqueducts, amphitheatres, bridges, baths, and new cities. We have, unfortunately, but scanty memorials of the architects of those times; and, amidst theabundance of magnificent edifices, we search in vain for the names ofthose who erected them. However much the age of Augustus may be exalted, we cannot think it superior, or even equal to that of Alexander: theRomans were late in becoming acquainted with the arts; they cultivatedthem more from pride and ostentation than from feeling. Expensivecollections were frequently made, without the possessors understandingtheir value; they knew only that such things were in reputation, and, torender themselves of consequence, purchased on the opinion of others. Ofthis, the Roman history gives frequent proofs. Domitian squandered sevenmillions in gilding the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus only, bringingfrom Athens a number of columns of Pentelic marble, extremely beautiful, and of good proportion, but which were recut and repolished, and thusdeprived of their symmetry and grace. If the Romans did possess anytaste for the fine arts, they left the exercise of it to theconquered--to Greece, who had no longer her Solon, Lycurgus, Themistocles, and Epaminondas, but was unarmed, depressed, and hadbecome the slave of Rome. 'Græcia capta ferum victorem cepit. ' How poorare such triumphs to those gained by the fine arts! The means by whichGreece acquired and maintained such excellence, is worthy of an inquiry. It is generally allowed that climate and government have a powerfulinfluence on the intellect. Greece was peculiarly favored in these twopoints; her atmosphere was serene and temperate, and being divided intoa number of small, but independent states, a spirit of emulation wasexcited, which continually called forth some improvement in the liberalarts. The study of these formed a principal branch of education in theacademies and schools, to which none but the free youth were admitted. To learning alone was the tribute of applause offered. At those solemnfestivals to which all Greece resorted, whoever had the plurality ofvotes was crowned in the presence of the whole assembly, and his effortsafterwards rewarded with an immense sum of money; sometimes a million ofcrowns. Statues, with inscriptions, were also raised to those who hadthus distinguished themselves, and their works, or whatever resembledthem, for ever after bore their names; distinctions far more flatteringthan any pecuniary reward. Meticus gave his to a square which he builtat Athens, and the appellation of Agaptos was applied to the porticos ofthe stadium. Zeuxis, when he painted Helen, collected a number ofbeautiful women, as studies for his subject: when completed, theAgrigentines, who had ordered it, were so delighted with thisperformance, that they requested him to accept of five of the ladies. Thebes, and other cities, fined those that presented a bad work, andlooked on them ever afterwards with derision. The applause bestowed onthe best efforts, was repeated by the orators, the poets, thephilosophers, and historians; the Cow of Miron, the Venus of Apelles, and the Cupid of Praxiteles, have exercised every pen. By these meansGreece brought the fine arts to perfection; by neglecting them, Romefailed to equal her; and, by pursuing the same course, every country maybecome as refined as Greece. "--_Milizia. _

NERO'S GOLDEN PALACE. 

According to Tacitus, Nero's famous golden palace was one of the mostmagnificent edifices ever built, and far surpassed all that wasstupendous and beautiful in Italy. It was erected on the site of thegreat conflagration at Rome, which was attributed by many to thewickedness of the tyrant. His statue, 120 feet high, stood in the midstof a court, ornamented with porticos of three files of lofty columns, each full a mile long; the gardens were of vast extent, with vineyards, meadows, and woods, filled with every sort of domestic and wild animals;a pond was converted into a sea, surrounded by a sufficient number ofedifices to form a city; pearls, gems, and the most precious materialswere used everywhere, and especially gold, the profusion of which, within and without, and ever on the roofs, caused it to be called theGolden House; the essences and costly perfumes continually shed around, showed the extreme extravagance of the inhuman monster who seized on thewealth of the people to gratify his own desires. Among other curiositieswas a dining-room, in which was represented the firmament, constantlyrevolving, imitative of the motion of the heavenly bodies; from it wasshowered down every sort of odoriferous waters. This great palace wascompleted by Otho, but did not long remain entire, as Vespasian restoredto the people the lands of which Nero had unjustly deprived them, anderected in its place the mighty Colosseum, and the magnificent Temple ofPeace. 

NAMES OF ANCIENT ARCHITECTS DESIGNATED BY REPTILES. 

According to Pliny, Saurus and Batrarchus, two Lacedemonian architects, erected conjointly at their own expense, certain temples at Rome, whichwere afterwards enclosed by Octavius. Not being allowed to inscribetheir names, they carved on the pedestals of the columns a lizard and afrog, which indicated them--_Saurus_ signifying a lizard, and_Batrarchus_ a frog. Milizia says that in the church of S. Lorenzo thereare two antique Ionic capitals with a lizard and a frog carved in theeyes of the volutes, which are probably those alluded to by Pliny, although the latter says _pedestal_. Modern painters and engravers havefrequently adopted similar devices as a _rebus_, or enigmaticalrepresentation of their names. See Spooner's Dictionary of Painters, Engravers, Sculptors, and Architects; Key to Monograms and Ciphers, andthe twenty-four plates. 

TRIUMPHAL ARCHES. 

Triumphal arches are monuments consisting of a grand portico or archway, erected at the entrance of a town, upon a bridge, or upon a public road, to the glory of some celebrated general, or in memory of some importantevent. The invention of these structures is attributed to the Romans. The earliest specimens are destitute of any magnificence. For a longtime, they consisted merely of a plain arch, at the top of which wasplaced the trophies and statue of the triumpher. Subsequently the spanwas enlarged, the style enriched, and a profusion of all kinds ofsculptures and ornaments heaped upon them. The triumphal arches variedgreatly in point of construction, form, and decoration. The arch ofConstantine at Rome is the best preserved of all the great antiquearches; the Arch of Septimus Severus at the foot of the Capitoline hill, greatly resembles that of Constantine. The Arch of Titus is the mostconsiderable at Rome. The Arch of Benvenuto, erected in honor of Trajan, is one of the most remarkable relics of antiquity, as well on accountof its sculptures as its architecture. The Arch of Trajan at Ancona isalso one of the most elegant works of the kind. The Arch of Rimini, erected in honor of Augustus, on the occasion of his repairing theFlaminian Way from that town to Rome, is the most ancient of all theantique arches, and from its size, one of the noblest existing. Manybeautiful structures of this kind have been erected in modern times, butprincipally on the plan, and in imitation of some of the abovementioned. Ancient medals often bear signs of this species ofarchitecture, and some of them represent arches that have ceased toexist for centuries. Triumphal arches seem to have been in use among theChinese in very ancient times. Milizia says, "There is no country in theworld in which those arches are so numerous as in China. They are foundnot only in the cities but on the mountains; and are erected in thepublic streets in honor of princes, generals, philosophers, andmandarins, who have benefitted the public, or signalized themselves byany great action; there are more than 1100 of these latter, 200 of whichare of extraordinary size and beauty; there are also some in honor offemales. The Chinese annals record 3636 men who have merited triumphalarches. " Milizia also says, the friezes of the Chinese arches are ofgreat height, and ornamented with sculpture. The highest arches aretwenty-five feet, embellished with human figures, animals, flowers, andgrotesque forms, in various attitudes, and in full relief. 

STATUE OF POMPEY THE GREAT. 

The large Statue of Pompey, formerly in the collection of the CardinalSpada, is supposed to be the same as that, at the base of which "GreatCæsar fell. " It was found on the very spot where the Senate was held onthe fatal ides of March, while some workmen were engaged in makingexcavations, to erect a private house. The Statue is not onlyinteresting from its antiquity and historical associations, but for acurious episode that followed its discovery. The trunk lay in the groundof the discoverer, but the head projected into that of his neighbor;this occasioned a dispute as to the right of possession. The matter wasat length referred to the decision of Cardinal Spada, who, like the wiseman of old, ordered the Statue to be decapitated, and division madeaccording to _position_--the trunk to one claimant, and the head to theother. The object of the wily Cardinal was not so much justice, as toget possession of the Statue himself, which he afterwards did, at atithe of what it would otherwise have cost him. The whole cost him only500 crowns. 

OF ANTIQUE SCULPTURES IN ROME. 

In 1824, there were more than 10, 600 pieces of ancient sculpture inRome; (statues, busts, and relievos, ) and upwards of 6300 ancientcolumns of marble. What multitudes of the latter have been sawed up fortables, and for wainscotting chapels, or mixed up with walls, andotherwise destroyed! And what multitudes may yet lie undiscoveredunderneath the many feet of earth and rubbish which buries ancient Rome!When we reflect on this, it may give us some faint idea of the vastmagnificence of Rome in all its pristine splendor!

ANCIENT MAP OF ROME. 

The Ichnography of Rome, in the fine collection of antiquities in thePalazzo Farnese, was found in the temple of Romulus and Remus, which isnow dedicated to Sts. Cosmo and Damiano, who were also twin brothers. Though incomplete, it is one of the most useful remains of antiquity. The names of the particular buildings and palaces are marked upon it, aswell as the outlines of the buildings themselves; and it is so large, that the Horrea Lolliana are a foot and a half long; and may serve as ascale to measure any other building or palace in it. It is published inGroevius's Thesaurus. 

JULIAN THE APOSTATE. 

The Emperor Julian commanded Alypius, a learned architect of Antioch, who held many important offices under that monarch, to rebuild theTemple of Jerusalem, A. D. 363, with the avowed object of falsifying theprophecy of our Saviour with regard to that structure. While theworkmen were engaged in making excavations for the foundation, balls offire issued from the earth and destroyed them. This indication of divinewrath against the reprobate Jews and the Apostate Julian, compelled himto abandon his project. The story is affirmed by many Christian andclassic authors. 

THE TOMB OF MAUSOLUS. 

When Mausolus, king of Caria, died about B. C. 353, his wife Artemisia, was so disconsolate, that she drank up his ashes, and resolved to erectin the city of Halicarnassus, one of the grandest and noblest monumentsof antiquity, to celebrate the memory of a husband whom she tenderlyloved. She therefore employed Bryaxis, Scopas, Timotheus, and Leocarus, four of the most renowned sculptors and architects of the golden age ofGrecian art, to erect that famous mausoleum which was accounted one ofthe seven wonders of the world, and gave its name to all similarstructures in succeeding ages. Its dimensions on the north and southsides were sixty-three feet, the east and west sides were a littleshorter, and its extreme height was one hundred and forty feet. It wassurrounded with thirty-six splendid marble columns. Byaxis executed thenorth side, Scopas the east, Timotheus the south, and Leocarus the west. Artemisia died before the work was completed; but the artists continuedtheir work with unabated zeal, and they endeavored to rival each otherin the beauty and magnificence with which they decorated this admirablework. A fifth sculptor, named Pythis, was added to them, who executed anoble four horse chariot of marble, which was placed on a pyramidcrowning the summit of the mausoleum. 

MANDROCLES' BRIDGE ACROSS THE BOSPHORUS. 

Mandrocles, probably a Greek architect in the service of Darius, King ofPersia, who flourished about B. C. 500, acquired a great name for thebridge which he constructed across the Thracian Bosphorus, or Straits ofConstantinople, by order of that monarch. This bridge was formed ofboats so ingeniously and firmly united that the innumerable army ofPersia passed over it from Asia to Europe. To preserve the memory of sosingular a work, Mandrocles represented in a picture, the Bosphorus, thebridge, the king of Persia seated on a throne, and the army that passedover it. This picture was preserved in the Temple of Juno at Samos, where Herodotus saw it, with this inscription:--"Mandrocles, afterhaving constructed a bridge of boats over the Bosphorus, by order of theking Darius of Persia, dedicated this monument to Juno, which does honorto Samos, his country, and confers glory on the artificer. "

THE COLOSSUS OF THE SUN AT RHODES. 

This prodigious Statue, which, was accounted one of the seven wonders ofthe world, was planned, and probably executed by Chares, an ancientsculptor of Lindus, and a disciple of Lysippus. According to Strabo, thestatue was of brass, and was seventy cubits, or one hundred feet high;and Chares was employed upon it twelve years. It was said to have beenplaced at the entrance of the harbor of Rhodes, with the feet upon tworocks, in such a manner, that the ships then used in commerce could passin full sail between them. This colossus, after standing fifty-sixyears, was overthrown by an earthquake. An oracle had forbidden theinhabitants to restore it to its former position, and its fragmentsremained in the same position until A. D. 667, when Moaviah, a calif ofthe Saracens, who invaded Rhodes in that year, sold them to a Jewishmerchant, who is said to have loaded nine hundred camels with them. 

Pliny says that Chares executed the statue in three years, and herelates several interesting particulars, as that few persons couldembrace its thumb, and that the fingers were as long as an ordinarystatue. Muratori reckons this one of the fables of antiquity. Though theaccounts in ancient authors concerning this colossal statue of Apolloare somewhat contradictory, they all agree that there was such a statue, seventy or eighty cubits high, and so monstrous a fable could not havebeen imposed upon the world in that enlightened age. Some antiquarianshave thought, with great justice, that the fine head of Apollo which isstamped upon the Rhodian medals, is a representation of that of theColossus. 

STATUES AND PAINTINGS AT RHODES. 

Pliny says, (lib. Xxxiv. Cap. 7. ) that Rhodes, in his time, "possessedmore than 3000 statues, the greater part finely executed; also paintingsand other works of art, of more value than those contained in the citiesof Greece. There was the wonderful Colossus, executed by Chares ofLindus, the disciple of Lysippus. "

SOSTRATUS' LIGHT-HOUSE ON THE ISLE OF PHAROS. 

This celebrated work of antiquity was built by Sostratus, by order ofPtolemy Philadelphus. It was a species of tower, erected on a highpromontory or rock, on the above mentioned island, then situated about amile from Alexandria. It was 450 ft. High, divided into several stories, each decreasing in size; the ground story was hexagonal, the sidesalternately concave and convex, each an eighth of a mile in length; thesecond and third stories were of the same form; the fourth was a square, flanked by four round towers; the fifth was circular. The whole edificewas of wrought stone; a magnificent staircase led to the top, wherefires were lighted every night, visible from the distance of a hundredmiles, to guide the coasting vessels. Sostratus is said to have engravedan inscription on stone, and covered it with a species of cement, uponwhich he sculptured the name of Ptolemy, calculating that the cementwould decay, and bring to light his original inscription. Strabo saysit read, _Sostratus, the friend of kings, made me_. Lucian reportsdifferently, and more probably, thus, _Sostratus of Cnidus, the son ofDexiphanes, to the Gods the Saviors, for the safety of Mariners_. It isalso said that Ptolemy left the inscription to the inclination of thearchitect; and that by the _Gods the Saviors_ were meant the reigningking and queen, with their successors, who were ambitious of the titleof Soteros or Savior. 

DINOCRATES' PLAN FOR CUTTING MOUNT ATHOS INTO A STATUE OF ALEXANDER THEGREAT. 

According to Vitruvius, this famous architect, having provided himselfwith recommendatory letters to the principal personages of Alexander'scourt, set out from his native country with the hope of gaining, throughtheir means, the favor of the monarch. The courtiers made him promiseswhich they neglected to perform, and framed various excuses to preventhis access to the sovereign; he therefore determined upon the followingexpedient:--Being of a gigantic and well proportioned stature, hestripped himself, anointed his body with oil, bound his head with poplarleaves, and throwing a lion's skin across his shoulders, with a club inhis hand, presented himself to Alexander, in the place where he held hispublic audience. Alexander, astonished at his Herculean figure, desiredhim to approach, demanding, at the same time, his name:--"I am, " saidhe, "a Macedonian architect, and am come to submit to you designs worthyof the fame you have acquired. I have modelled Mount Athos in the formof a giant, holding in his right hand a city, and his left a shell, fromwhich are discharged into the sea all the rivers collected from themountain. " It was impossible to imagine a scheme more agreeable toAlexander, who asked seriously whether there would be sufficient countryround this city to maintain its inhabitants. Dinocrates answered in thenegative, and that it would be necessary to supply it by sea. Athosconsequently remained a mountain; but Alexander was so pleased with thenovelty of the idea, and the genius of Dinocrates, that he at once tookhim into his service. The design of Dinocrates may be found in Fischer'sHistory of Architecture. According to Pliny, Dinocrates planned andbuilt the city of Alexandria. 

POPE'S IDEA OF FORMING MOUNT ATHOS INTO A STATUE OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT. 

"I cannot conceive, " said Spence, the author of Polymetis, to Pope, "howDinocrates could ever have carried his proposal of forming Mount Athosinto a statue of Alexander the Great, into execution. "--"For my part, "replied Pope, "I have long since had an idea how that might be done; andif any body would make me a present of a Welch mountain, and pay theworkmen, I would undertake to see it executed. I have quite formed itsometimes in my imagination: the figure must be on a reclining posture, because of the hollowing that would be necessary, and for the city'sbeing in one hand. It should be a rude unequal hill, and might be helpedwith groves of trees for the eye brows, and a wood for the hair. Thenatural green turf should be left wherever it would be necessary torepresent the ground he reclines on. It should be so contrived, that thetrue point of view should be at a considerable distance. When you werenear it, it should still have the appearance of a rough mountain, but atthe proper distance such a rising should be the leg, and such another anarm. It would be best if there were a river, or rather a lake, at thebottom of it, for the rivulet that came through his other hand, totumble down the hill, and discharge itself into it. "

Diodorus Siculus, says that Semiramis had the mountain Bajitanus, inMedia, cut into a statue of herself, seventeen stadii high, (about twomiles) surrounded by one hundred others, probably representing thevarious members of her court. China, among other wonders, is said tohave many mountains cut into the figures of men, animals, and birds. Itis probable, however, that all these stories have originated in theimagination, from the real or fanciful resemblance of mountains, tovarious objects, which are found in every country, as "The Old Man ofthe Mountain, " Mt. Washington, N. H. , "St. Anthony's Nose, " in theHighlands, "Camel's Rump, " Green Mountains, "Giant of the Valley, " onlake Champlain, &c. It is easy to imagine a mountain as a cloud, "almostin shape of a camel, " "backed like a weasel, " or "very like a whale. "

TEMPLE WITH AN IRON STATUE SUSPENDED IN THE AIR BY LOADSTONE. 

According to Pliny, Dinocrates built a temple at Alexandria, in honor ofArsinoe, sister and wife of Ptolemy Philadelphus. The whole interior wasto have been incrusted with loadstone, in order that the statue of theprincess, composed of iron, should be suspended in the centre, solely bymagnetic influence. On the death of Ptolemy and of the architect, theidea was abandoned, and has never been executed elsewhere, thoughbelieved to be practicable. A similar fable was invented of the tomb ofMahomet. 

THE TEMPLE OF JUPITER OLYMPIUS AT ATHENS. 

According to Vitruvius, Pisistratus, who flourished about B. C. 555, employed the four Grecian architects, Antistates, Antimachides, Calleschros, and Porinus, to erect this famous temple in the place ofone built in the time of Deucalion, which the storms of a thousand yearshad destroyed. They proceeded so far with it that Pisistratus wasenabled to dedicate it, but after his death the work ceased; and thecompletion of the temple, so magnificent and grand in its design thatit impressed the beholder with wonder and awe, became the work of afterages. Perseus, king of Macedonia, and Antiochus Epiphanes, nearly fourhundred years after Pisistratus, finished the grand nave, and placed thecolumns of the portico, Cossutius, a Roman, being the architect. It wasconsidered, and with good reason, one of the four celebrated marbletemples of Greece: the other three were that of Diana, at Ephesus;Apollo, at Miletus; and Ceres, at Eleusis. The Corinthian orderprevailed in its design. In the siege that Sylla laid to Athens, thistemple was greatly injured, but the allied kings afterwards restored itat their common expense, intending to dedicate it to the genius ofAugustus. Livy says that among so many temples, this was the only oneworthy of a god. Pausanias says the Emperor Adrian enclosed it with awall, as was usual with the Grecian temples, of half a mile incircumference, which the cities of Greece adorned with statues erectedto that monarch. The Athenians distinguished themselves by the elevationof a colossal statue behind the temple. This enclosure was alsoornamented with a peristyle, one hundred rods in length, supported bysuperb marble Corinthian columns, and to this façade were three grandvestibules which led to the temple. Adrian dedicated it a second time. In the temple was placed a splendid statue of Jupiter Olympius, of goldand ivory; and the courtiers added four statues of the Emperor. Thiswonderful structure, which is said to have cost five millions of_scudi_, is now in ruins. Sixteen Corinthian columns are still standing, six feet four inches and some six feet six inches, in diameter. Thelength of the temple, according to Stuart, upon the upper step, wasthree hundred and fifty-four feet, and its breadth one hundred andseventy-one feet; the entire length of the walls of the peribolous issix hundred and eighty-eight feet, and the width four hundred andsixty-three feet. 

THE PARTHENON AT ATHENS. 

This celebrated temple was built by Ictinus and Callicrates, two Greekarchitects who flourished about B. C. 430. Ictinus was celebrated forthe magnificent temples which he erected to the heathen gods. Amongthese were the famous Doric temple of Ceres and Proserpine at Eleusis, of which he built the outer cell, capable of accommodating thirtythousand persons; also the temple of Apollo, near Mount Cotylion, inArcadia, which was considered one of the finest of antiquity, and wasvaulted with stone. But his most important work was the famous Parthenonat Athens, erected within the citadel, by Ictinus and Callicrates, byorder of Pericles. According to Vitruvius, the two artists exerted alltheir powers to make this temple worthy the goddess who presided overthe arts. The plan was a rectangle, like most of the Greek and Roman;its length from east to west, was 227 feet 7 inches, and its width 101feet 2 inches, as measured on the top step. It was peripteral, octastyle; that is, surrounded with a portico of columns, with eight toeach façade. The height of the columns was 34 feet, and their diameter 6feet. Within the outer portico was a second, also formed of isolatedcolumns, but elevated two steps higher than the first; from thence theinterior of the temple was entered, which contained the famous statue ofMinerva in gold and ivory, by Phidias. This famous temple was builtentirely of white marble, and from its elevated position, could be seenfrom an immense distance. On a nearer approach, it was admired for theelegance of its proportions, and the beauty of the bas-reliefs withwhich its exterior was decorated. It was preserved entire until 1677, when it was nearly destroyed by an explosion during the siege of Athensby Morosini. It was further dilapidated by the Turks, and afterwards byLord Elgin, who removed all the bas-reliefs and other ornamentspracticable, and transported them to London, where they now adorn theBritish Museum. King Otho has adopted measures to preserve the edificefrom further mischief. 

THE ELGIN MARBLES. 

The following exceedingly interesting account of the removal of thesculptures from the Parthenon, is extracted from Hamilton's "Memorandumon the Subject of the Earl of Elgin's Pursuits in Greece. "

"In the year 1799, when Lord Elgin was appointed his majesty'sambassador extraordinary to the Ottoman Porte, he was in habits offrequent intercourse with Mr. Harrison, an architect of great eminencein the west of England, whom his lordship consulted on the benefits thatmight possibly be derived to the arts in this country, in case anopportunity could be found for studying minutely the architecture andsculpture of ancient Greece; whose opinion was, that although we mightpossess exact admeasurements of the public buildings in Athens, yet ayoung artist could never form to himself an adequate conception of theirminute details, combinations, and general effects, without having beforehim some such sensible representation of them as might be conveyed bycasts. "

On this suggestion Lord Elgin proposed to his majesty's government, thatthey should send out English artists of known eminence, capable ofcollecting this information in the most perfect manner; but the prospectappeared of too doubtful an issue for ministers to engage in the expenseattending it. Lord Elgin then endeavored to engage some of these artistsat his own charge; but the value of their time was far beyond his means. When, however, he reached Sicily, on the recommendation of Sir WilliamHamilton, he was so fortunate as to prevail on Don Tita Lusieri, one ofthe best general painters in Europe, of great knowledge in the arts, and of infinite taste, to undertake the execution of this plan; and Mr. Hamilton, who was then accompanying Lord Elgin to Constantinople, immediately went with Signor Lusieri to Rome, where, in consequence ofthe disturbed state of Italy, they were enabled to engage two of themost eminent _formatori_ or moulders, to make the _madreformi_ for thecasts; Signor Balestra, a distinguished architect there, along withIttar, a young man of promising talents, to undertake the architecturalpart of the plan; and one Theodore, a Calmouk, who during several yearsat Rome, had shown himself equal to the first masters in the design ofthe human figure. 

After much difficulty, Lord Elgin obtained permission from the Turkishgovernment to establish these six artists at Athens, where theysystematically prosecuted the business of their several departmentsduring three years, under the general superintendence of Lusieri. 

Accordingly every monument, of which there are any remains in Athens, has been thus most carefully and minutely measured, and from the roughdraughts of the architects (all of which are preserved), finisheddrawings have been made by them of the plans, elevations, and details ofthe most remarkable objects; in which the Calmouk has restored andinserted all the sculpture with exquisite taste and ability. He hasbesides made accurate drawings of all the bas-reliefs on the severaltemples, in the precise state of decay and mutilation in which they atpresent exist. 

Most of the bassi rilievi, and nearly all the characteristic features ofarchitecture in the various monuments at Athens, have been moulded, andthe moulds of them brought to London. 

Besides the architecture and sculpture at Athens, all similar remainswhich could be traced through several parts of Greece have been measuredand delineated with the most scrupulous exactness, by the secondarchitect Ittar. 

In the prosecution of this undertaking, the artists had themortification of witnessing the very _willful devastation to which allthe sculpture, and even the architecture, were daily exposed on the partof the Turks and travelers_: the former equally influenced by mischiefand by avarice, the latter from an anxiety to become possessed, eachaccording to his means, of some relic, however small, of buildings orstatues which had formed the pride of Greece. The Ionic temple on theIlyssus which, in Stuart's time, about the year 1759, was in tolerablepreservation, had so entirely disappeared, that its foundation was nolonger to be ascertained. Another temple near Olympia had shared asimilar fate within the recollection of many. The temple of Minerva hadbeen converted into a powder magazine, and was in great part shatteredfrom a shell falling upon it during the bombardment of Athens by theVenetians, towards the end of the seventeenth century; and even thisaccident has not deterred the Turks from applying the beautiful templeof Neptune and Erectheus to the same use, whereby it is still constantlyexposed to a similar fate. Many of the statues over the entrance of thetemple of Minerva, which had been thrown down by the explosion, had beenpowdered to mortar, because they offered the whitest marble withinreach; and parts of the modern fortification, and the miserable houseswhere this mortar had been so applied, are easily traced. In addition tothese causes of degradation, the Turks will frequently climb up theruined walls and amuse themselves in defacing any sculpture they canreach; or in breaking columns, statues, or other remains of antiquity, in the fond expectation of finding within them some hidden treasures. 

Under these circumstances, Lord Elgin felt himself irresistibly impelledto endeavor to preserve, by removal from Athens, any specimens ofsculpture he could, without injury, rescue from such impending ruin. Hehad, besides, another inducement, and an example before him, in theconduct of the last French embassy sent to Turkey before the Revolution. French artists did then attempt to remove several of the sculpturedornaments from several edifices in the Acropolis, and particularly fromthe Parthenon. In lowering one of the Metopes the tackle failed, and itwas dashed to pieces; one other object was conveyed to France, where itis held in the highest estimation, and where it occupies a conspicuousplace in the gallery of the Louvre, and constituted national propertyduring the French Revolution. The same agents were remaining at Athensduring Lord Elgin's embassy, waiting only the return of French influenceat the Porte to renew their operations. Actuated by these inducements, Lord Elgin made every exertion; and the sacrifices he has made have beenattended with such entire success, that he has brought to England fromthe ruined temples at Athens, from the modern walls and fortifications, in which many fragments had been used as blocks for building, and fromexcavations from amongst the ruins, made on purpose, such a mass ofAthenian sculpture, in statues, alti and bassi rilievi, capitals, cornices, friezes, and columns as, with the aid of a few of the casts, to present all the sculpture and architecture of any value to the artistor man of taste which can be traced at Athens. 

In proportion as Lord Elgin's plan advanced, and the means accumulatedin his hands towards affording an accurate knowledge of the works ofarchitecture and sculpture in Athens and in Greece, it became a subjectof anxious inquiry with him, in what way the greatest degree of benefitcould be derived to the arts from what he had been so fortunate as toprocure. 

In regard to the works of the architects employed by him, he hadnaturally, from the beginning, looked forward to their being engraved;and accordingly all such plans, elevations, and details as to thosepersons appeared desirable for that object, were by them, and on thespot, extended with the greatest possible care for the purpose ofpublication. Besides these, all the working sketches and measurementsoffer ample materials for further drawings, if they should be required. It was Lord Elgin's wish that the whole of the drawings might beexecuted in the highest perfection of the art of engraving; and for thispurpose a fund should be raised by subscription, exhibition, orotherwise; by aid of which these engravings might still bedistributable, for the benefit of artists, at a rate of expense withinthe means of professional men. 

Great difficulty occurred in forming a plan for deriving the utmostadvantage from the marbles and casts. Lord Elgin's first attempt was tohave the statues and bassi rilievi restored; and in that view he went toRome to consult and to employ Canova. The decision of that most eminentartist was conclusive. On examining the specimens produced to him, andmaking himself acquainted with the whole collection, and particularlywith what came from the Parthenon, by means of the persons who had beencarrying on Lord Elgin's operations at Athens, and who had returned withhim to Rome, Canova declared, "That however greatly it was to belamented that these statues should have suffered so much from time andbarbarism, yet it was undeniable that they never had been retouched;that they were the work of the ablest artists the world had ever seen;executed under the most enlightened patron of the arts, and at a periodwhen genius enjoyed the most liberal encouragement, and had attained thehighest degree of perfection; and that they had been found worthy offorming the decoration of the most admired edifice ever erected inGreece. That he should have had the greatest delight, and derived thegreatest benefit from the opportunity Lord Elgin offered him of havingin his possession and contemplating these inestimable marbles. " But(_his expression was_) "it would be sacrilege in him or any man topresume to touch them with his chisel. " Since their arrival in thiscountry they have been laid open to the inspection of the public; andthe opinions and impressions, not only of artists, but of men of tastein general, have thus been formed and collected. 

From these the judgment pronounced by Canova has been universallysanctioned; and all idea of restoring the marbles deprecated. Meanwhilethe most distinguished painters and sculptors have assiduously attendedthe Museum, and evinced the most enthusiastic admiration of theperfection to which these marbles now prove to them that Phidias hadbrought the art of sculpture, and which had hitherto only been knownthrough the medium of ancient authors. They have attentively examinedthem, and they have ascertained that they were executed with the mostscrupulous anatomical truth, not only in the human figure, but in thevarious animals to be found in this collection. They have been struckwith the wonderful accuracy, and at the same time, the great effect ofminute detail; and with the life and expression so distinctly producedin every variety of attitude and action. Those more advanced in yearshave testified great concern at not having had the advantage of studyingthese models; and many who have had the opportunity of forming acomparison (among these are the most eminent sculptors and painters inthis metropolis), have publicly and unequivocally declared, that in theview of professional men, this collection is far more valuable than anyother collection in existence. 

With such advantages as the possession of these unrivalled works of artafford, and with an enlightened and encouraging protection bestowed ongenius and the arts, it may not be too sanguine to indulge a hope, that, prodigal as nature is in the perfections of the human figure in thiscountry, animating as are the instances of patriotism, heroic actions, and private virtues deserving commemoration, sculpture may soon beraised in England to rival these, the ablest productions of the besttimes of Greece. The reader is referred to the synopsis of the BritishMuseum, and to the Chevalier Visconti's Memoirs, before quoted, forcomplete and authentic catalogues of these marbles, but the followingbrief abstract is necessary to give a view of what they consist, toreaders who may reside at a distance from the metropolis, or have notthose works at hand. 

In that part of the collection which came from the eastern pediment ofthe Parthenon are several statues and fragments, consisting of twohorses' heads in one block, and the head of one of the horses of Night, a statue of Hercules or Theseus, a group of two female figures, a femalefigure in quick motion, supposed to be Iris, and a group of twogoddesses, one represented sitting, and the other half reclining on arock. Among the statues and fragments from the western pediment are partof the chest and shoulders of the colossal figure in the centre, supposed to be Neptune, a fragment of the colossal figure of Minerva, afragment of a head, supposed to belong to the preceding, a fragment of astatue of Victory, and a statue of a river god called Ilissus, andseveral fragments of statues from the pediments, the names or places ofwhich are not positively ascertained, among which is one supposed tohave been Latona, holding Apollo and Diana in her arms; another of theneck and arms of a figure rising out of the sea, called Hyperion, or therising Sun; and a torso of a male figure with drapery thrown over oneshoulder. The metopes represent the battles between the Centaurs andLapithæ, at the nuptials of Pirithous. Each metope contains two figures, grouped in various attitudes; sometimes the Lapithæ, sometimes theCentaurs victorious. The figure of one of the Lapithæ, who is lyingdead and trampled on by a Centaur, is one of the finest productions ofthe art, as well as the group adjoining to it of Hippodamia, the bride, carried off by the Centaur Eurytion; the furious style of whosegalloping in order to secure his prize, and his shrinking from the spearthat has been hurled after him, are expressed with prodigious animation. They are all in such high relief as to seem groups of statues; and theyare in general finished with as much attention behind as before. 

They were originally continued round the entablature of the Parthenon, and formed ninety-two groups. The frieze which was carried along theouter walls of the cell offered a continuation of sculptures in lowrelief, and of the most exquisite beauty. It represented the whole ofthe solemn procession to the temple of Minerva during the Panathenaicfestival; many of the figures are on horseback, others are about tomount, some are in chariots, others on foot, oxen and other victims areled to sacrifice, the nymphs called Canephoræ, Skiophoræ, &c. , arecarrying the sacred offering in baskets and vases; there are priests, magistrates, warriors, deities, &c. , forming altogether a series of mostinteresting figures in great variety of costume, armor, and attitude. 

From the Opisthodomus of the Parthenon, Lord Elgin also procured somevaluable inscriptions, written in the manner called Kionedon orcolumnar. The subjects of these monuments are public decrees of thepeople, accounts of the riches contained in the treasury, and deliveredby the administrators to their successors in office, enumerations of thestatues, the silver, gold, and precious stones, deposited in the temple, estimates for public works, &c. 

ODEON, OR ODEUM. 

The first Odeon, ([Greek: ôdeion], from [Greek: ôdê], a song), was builtby Pericles at Athens. It was constructed on different principles fromthe theatre, being of an eliptical form, and roofed to preserve theharmony and increase the force of musical sounds. The building wasdevoted to poetical and musical contests and exhibitions. It was injuredin the siege of Sylla, but was subsequently repaired by AriobarzanesPhilopator, king of Cappadocia. At a later period, two others were builtat Athens by Pausanias and Herodes Atticus, and other Greek citiesfollowed their example. The first Odeon at Rome was built in the time ofthe emperors; Domitian erected one, and Trajan another. The Romanslikewise constructed them in several provincial cities, the ruins of oneof which are still seen at Catanea, in Sicily. 

PERPETUAL LAMPS. 

According to Pausanias, Callimachus made a golden lamp for the Temple ofMinerva at Athens, with a wick composed of asbestos, which burned dayand night for a year without trimming or replenishing with oil. If thiswas true, the font of the lamp must have been large enough to havecontained a year's supply of oil; for, though some profess that theeconomical inventions of the ancients have been forgotten, the leastknowledge in chemistry proves that oil in burning must be consumed. Theperpetual lamps, so much celebrated among the learned of former times, said to have been found burning after many centuries, on opening tombs, are nothing more than fables, arising perhaps from phosphorescentappearances, caused by decomposition in confined places, which vanishedas soon as fresh air was admitted. Such phenomena have frequently beenobserved in opening sepulchres. 

THE SKULL OF RAFFAELLE. 

Is preserved as an object of great veneration in the Academy of St. Luke, which the students visit as if in the hope of being inspired withsimilar talents; and it is wonderful that, admiring him so much, modernpainters should so little resemble him. Either they do not wish toimitate him, or do not know how to do so. Those who duly appreciate hismerits have attempted it, and been successful. Mengs is an example ofthis observation. 

THE FOUR FINEST PICTURES IN ROME. 

The four most celebrated pictures in Rome, are _The Transfiguration_ byRaffaelle, _St. Jerome_ by Domenichino, _The Descent from the Cross_ byDaniele da Volterra, and _The Romualdo_ by Andrea Sacchi. 

THE FOUR CARLOS OF THE 17TH CENTURY. 

It is a singular fact that the four most distinguished painters of the17th century were named Charles, viz. : le Brun, Cignani, Maratta, andLoti, or Loth. Hence they are frequently called by writers, especiallythe Italian, "The four Carlos of the 17th century. "

PIETRO GALLETTI AND THE BOLOGNESE STUDENTS. 

Crespi relates that Pietro Galletti, misled by a pleasing self-delusionthat he was born a painter, made himself the butt and ridicule of allthe artists of Bologna. When they extolled his works and called him thegreatest painter in the world, he took their irony for truth, andstrutted with greater self-complacency. On one occasion, the studentsassembled with great pomp and ceremony, and solemnly invested him withthe degree of _Doctor of Painting_. 

ÆTION'S PICTURE OF THE NUPTIALS OF ALEXANDER AND ROXANA. 

Ætion gained so much applause by his picture, representing the nuptialsof Alexander and Roxana, which he publicly exhibited at the OlympicGames, that Proxenidas, the president, rewarded him, by giving him hisdaughter in marriage. This picture was taken to Rome after the conquestof Greece, where it was seen by Lucian, who gives an accuratedescription of it, from which, it is said, Raffaelle sketched one of hisfinest compositions. 

AGELADAS. 

This famous sculptor was a native of Argos, and flourished about B. C. 500. He was celebrated for his works in bronze, the chief of which werea statue of Jupiter, in the citadel of Ithone, and one of Hercules, placed in the Temple at Melite, in Attica, after the great plague. Pausanias mentions several other works by him, which were highlyesteemed. He was also celebrated as the instructor of Myron, Phidias, and Polycletus. 

THE PORTICOS OF AGAPTOS. 

According to Pausanias, Agaptos, a Grecian architect, invented theporticos around the square attached to the Greek stadii, or race coursesof the Gymnasiums, which gained him so much reputation, that they werecalled the porticos of Agaptos, and were adopted in every stadium. 

THE GROUP OF NIOBE AND HER CHILDREN. 

Pliny says there was a doubt in his time, whether some statuesrepresenting the dying children of Niobe (_Niobæ liberos morientes_), inthe Temple of Apollo Sosianus at Rome, were by Scopas or Praxiteles. The well known group of this subject in the Florentine gallery, isgenerally believed to be the identical work mentioned by Pliny. Whetherit be an original production of one of these great artists, or as somecritics have supposed, only a copy, it will ever be considered worthy oftheir genius, as one of the sweetest manifestations of that deep andintense feeling of beauty which the Grecian artists delighted topreserve in the midst of suffering. The admirable criticism of Schlegel(Lectures on the Drama, III), developes the internal harmony of thework. "In the group of Niobe, there is the most perfect expression ofterror and pity. The upturned looks of the mother, and the mouth halfopen in supplication, seem to accuse the invisible wrath of Heaven. Thedaughter, clinging in the agonies of death to the bosom of her mother, in her infantile innocence, can have no other fear than for herself; theinnate impulse of self-preservation was never represented in a mannermore tender and affecting. Can there, on the other hand, be exhibited tothe senses, a more beautiful image of self-devoting, heroic magnanimitythan Niobe, as she bends her body forward, that, if possible, she mayalone receive the destructive bolt? Pride and repugnance are melted downin the most ardent maternal love. The more than earthly dignity of thefeatures are the less disfigured by pain, as from the quick repetitionof the shocks, she appears, as in the fable, to have become insensibleand motionless. Before this figure, twice transformed into stone, andyet so inimitably animated--before this line of demarkation of all humansuffering, the most callous beholder is dissolved in tears. "

STATUE OF THE FIGHTING GLADIATOR. 

The famous antique statue of the Fighting Gladiator, which now adornsthe Louvre, was executed by Agasias, a Greek sculptor of Ephesus, whoflourished about B. C. 450. It was found among the ruins of a palace ofthe Roman Emperors at Capo d'Anzo, the ancient Antium, where also theApollo Belvidere was discovered. 

THE GROUP OF LAOCOÖN IN THE VATICAN. 

As Laocoön, a priest of Neptune, (or according to some, of Apollo) wassacrificing a bull to Neptune, on the shore at Troy, after the pretendedretreat of the Greeks, two enormous serpents appeared swimming from theisland of Tenedos, and advanced towards the altar. The people fled; butLaocoön and his two sons fell victims to the monsters. The sons werefirst attacked, and then the father, who attempted to defend them, theserpents coiling themselves about him and his sons, while in his agonyhe endeavored to extricate them. They then hastened to the temple ofPallas, where, placing themselves at the foot of the goddess, they hidthemselves under her shield. The people saw in this omen, Laocoön'spunishment for his impiety in having pierced with his spear, the woodenhorse which was consecrated to Minerva. Thus Virgil relates the story inthe Æneid; others, as Hyginus, give different accounts, though agreeingin the main points. The fable is chiefly interesting to us, as havinggiven rise to one of the finest and most celebrated works of antiquesculpture, namely, the Laocoön, now in the Vatican. It was discovered in1506 by some workmen, while employed in making excavations in a vineyardon the site of the Baths of Titus. Pope Julius II. Bought it for anannual pension, and placed it in the Belvidere in the Vatican. It wastaken to Paris by Napoleon, but was restored to its place in 1815. It isperfect in preservation, except that the right arm of Laocoön waswanting, which was restored by Baccio Bandinelli. This group is soperfect a work, so grand and so instructive for the student of the finearts, that many writers of all nations have written on it. It representsthree persons in agony, but in different attitudes of struggling orfear, according to their ages, and the mental anguish of the father. Allconnoisseurs declare the group perfect, the product of the most thoroughknowledge of anatomy, of character, and of ideal perfection. Accordingto Pliny, it was the common opinion in his time, that the group was madeof one stone by three sculptors, Agesander, Polydorus, and Athenadorus, all three natives of Rhodes, and the two last probably sons of theformer. He says, "The Laocoön, which is in the palace of the EmperorTitus, is a work to be preferred to all others, either in painting orsculpture. Those great artists, Agesander, Polydorus, and Athenadorus, Rhodians, executed the principal figure, the sons, and the wonderfulfolds of the serpents, out of one piece of marble. " Doubts existrespecting the era of this work. Maffei places it in the 88th Olympiad, or the first year of the Peloponnesian War; Winckelmann, in the time ofLysippus and Alexander; and Lessing, in the time of the first Emperors. Some doubt whether this is the work mentioned by Pliny, because it hasbeen discovered that the group was not executed out of one block ofmarble, as asserted by him. In the opinion of many judicious critics, however, it is considered an original group, and not a copy, for no copywould possess its perfections; and that it is certainly the onedescribed by Pliny, because, after his time, no known sculptor wascapable of executing such a perfect work; and had there been one, hisfame would certainly have reached us. It was found in the placementioned by Pliny, and the joinings are so accurate and artfullyconcealed, that they might easily escape his notice. There are severalcopies of this matchless production by modern sculptors, the mostremarkable of which, are one in bronze by Sansovino, and another inmarble by Baccio Bandinelli, which last is in the Medici gallery atFlorence. It has also been frequently engraved; the best is the famousplate by Bervic, engraved for the Musée Francais, pronounced byconnoisseurs, the finest representation of a marble group ever executed, proof impressions of which have been sold for 30 guineas each. 

MICHAEL ANGELO'S OPINION OF THE LAOCOÖN. 

It is said that Julius II. Desired Angelo to restore the missing armbehind the Laocoön. He commenced it, but left it unfinished, "because, "said he, "I found I could do nothing worthy of being joined to soadmirable a work. " What a testimony of the superiority of the bestancient sculptors over the moderns, for of all modern sculptors, MichaelAngelo is universally allowed to be the best!

DISCOVERY OF THE LAOCOÖN. 

There is a curious letter not generally known, but published by theAbate Fea, from Francesco da Sangallo, the sculptor, to MonsignoreSpedalengo, in which the circumstances of the discovery of the Laocoönare thus alluded to. The letter is dated 1509. He says, "It being toldto the Pope that some fine statues had been discovered in a vineyardnear S. Maria Maggiore, he sent to desire my father, (Giuliano daSangallo) to go and examine them. Michael Angelo Buonarotti being oftenat our house, father got him to go also; and so, " continues Francesco, "I mounted behind my father, and we went. We descended to where thestatues were. My father immediately exclaimed, 'This is the Laocoönspoken of by Pliny!' They made the workmen enlarge the aperture orexcavation, so as to be able to draw them out, and then, having seenthem, we returned to dinner. "

SIR JOHN SOANE. 

This eminent English architect, and munificent public benefactor, wasthe son of a poor bricklayer, and was born at Reading in 1753. He showedearly indications of talent and a predilection for architecture; and, atthe age of fifteen, his father placed him with Mr. George Dance (thenconsidered one of the most accomplished of the English architects), probably in the capacity of a servant. At all events he was notregularly articled, but he soon attracted notice by his industry, activity, and talents. Mr. Donaldson says, "his sister was a servant inMr. Dance's family, which proves that the strength of Soane's characterenabled him to rise to so distinguished a rank merely by his ownexertions. " He afterwards studied under Holland, and in the RoyalAcademy, where he first attracted public notice by a design for atriumphal bridge, which drew the gold medal of that institution, andentitled him to go to Italy for three years on the pension of theAcademy. During a residence of six years in Italy, he studied theremains of antiquity and the finest modern edifices with greatassiduity, and made several original designs, which attractedconsiderable attention; among them were one for a British Senate House, and another for a Royal Palace. In 1780 he returned to England, and soondistinguished himself by several elegant palaces, which he wascommissioned to erect for the nobility in different parts of thekingdom, the plans and elevations of which he published in a foliovolume in 1788. In the same year, in a competition with nineteen otherarchitects, he obtained the lucrative office of Surveyor and Architectto the Bank of England, which laid the foundation of the splendidfortune he afterwards acquired. Other advantageous appointmentsfollowed; that of Clerk of the Woods of St. James' Palace, in 1791;Architect of the Woods and Forests, in 1795; Professor of Architecturein the Royal Academy in 1806; and Surveyor of Chelsea Hospital in 1807. In addition to his public employments, he received many commissions forprivate buildings. He led a life of indefatigable industry in thepractice of his profession till 1833, when he reached his eightiethyear. He died in 1837. 

SOANE'S LIBERALITY AND PUBLIC MUNIFICENCE. 

Sir John Soane was a munificent patron of various public charities, andwas even more liberal in his contributions for the advancement of art;he subscribed £1000 to the Duke of York's monument; a similar sum tothe Royal British Institution; £750 to the Institute of BritishArchitects; £250 to the Architectural Society, &c. He made a splendidcollection of works of art, valued at upwards of £50, 000 before hisdeath, converted his house into a Museum, and left the whole to hiscountry, which is now known as _Sir John Soane's Museum_--one of themost attractive institutions in London. He devoted the last four yearsof his life in classifying and arranging his Museum, which isdistributed in twenty-four rooms, and consists of architectural modelsof ancient and modern edifices; a large collection of architecturaldrawings, designs, plans, and measurements, by many great architects; alibrary of the best works on art, particularly on Architecture; antiquefragments of buildings, as columns, capitals, ornaments, and friezes inmarble; also, models, casts, and copies of similar objects in othercollections; fragments and relics of architecture in the middle ages;modern sculptures, especially by the best British sculptors; Greek andRoman antiquities, consisting of fragments of Greek and Roman sculptureantique busts, bronzes, and cinerary urns; Etruscan vases; Egyptianantiquities; busts of remarkable persons; a collection of 138 antiquegems, cameos and intaglios, originally in the collection of M. CapeceLatro, Archbishop of Tarentum, and 136 antique gems, principally fromthe Braschi collection; a complete set of Napoleon medals, selected bythe Baron Denon for the Empress Josephine, and formerly in herpossession, curiosities; rare books and illuminated manuscripts; acollection of about fifty oil paintings, many of them of great value, among which are the Rake's Progress, a series of eight pictures byHogarth, and the Election, a series of four, by the same artist; andmany articles of virtu too numerous to mention here, forming altogethera most rare, unique, and valuable collection. What a glorious monumentdid the poor bricklayer's son erect to his memory, which, while itblesses, will cause his countrymen to bless and venerate the donor, andmake his name bright on the page of history! Some there are who regardposthumous fame a bubble, and present pomp substantial; but the one isgodlike, the other sensual and vain. 

THE BELZONI SARCOPHAGUS. 

One of the most interesting and valuable relics in Sir John Soane'sMuseum, is the Belzoni Sarcophagus. It was discovered by Belzoni, thefamous French traveler, in 1816, in a tomb in the valley of Beban elMalouk, near Gournon. He found it in the centre of a sepulchral chamberof extraordinary magnificence, and records the event with characteristicenthusiasm: "I may call this a fortunate day, one of the best, perhaps, of my life. I do not mean to say that fortune has made me rich, for I donot consider all rich men fortunate; but she has given me thatsatisfaction, that extreme pleasure which wealth cannot purchase--thepleasure of discovering what has long been sought in vain. " It isconstructed of one single piece of alabaster, so translucent that a lampplaced within it shines through, although it is more than two inches inthickness. It is nine feet four inches in length, three feet eightinches in width, and two feet eight inches in depth, and is covered withhieroglyphics outside and inside, which have not yet been satisfactorilyinterpreted, though they are supposed by some to refer to Osirei, thefather of Rameses the Great. It was transported from Egypt to England atgreat expense, and offered to the Trustees of the British Museum for£2, 000, which being refused, Sir John Soane immediately purchased it andexhibited it free, with just pride, to crowds of admiring visitors. WhenBelzoni discovered this remarkable relic of Egyptian royalty, the lidhad been thrown off and broken into pieces, and its contents rifled; thesarcophagus itself is in perfect preservation. 

TASSO'S "GERUSALEMME LIBERATA. "

The original copy of "Gerusalemme Liberata, " in the handwriting ofTasso, is in the Soane Museum. It was purchased by Sir John Soane, atthe sale of the Earl of Guilford's Library, in 1829. This literarytreasure, which cannot be contemplated without emotion, once belonged toBaruffaldi, one of the most eminent literary characters of modernItaly. Serassi describes it, and refers to the emendations made by thepoet in the margin (Serassi's edit. Florence, 1724;) but expresses his_fear_ that it had been taken out of Italy. In allusion to thisexpression of Serassi, Lord Guilford has written on the fly-leaf of theMS. , "I would not wish to hurt the honest pride of any Italian; but theworks of a great genius are the property of all ages and all countries:and I hope it will be recorded to future ages, that England possessesthe original MS. Of one of the four greatest epic poems the world hasproduced, and, beyond all doubt, the only one of the four now existing. "There is no date to this MS. The first printed edition of theGerusalemme is dated 1580. 

There are other rare and valuable MSS. In this Museum, the mostremarkable of which are a Commentary in Latin on the epistle of St. Paulto the Romans, by Cardinal Grimani. It is adorned with exquisiteminiature illustrations, painted by Don Giulio Clovio, called theMichael Angelo of miniature painters. "The figures are about an inch inheight, " says Mrs. Jameson, "equaling in vigor, grandeur, andoriginality, the conceptions of Michael Angelo and of Raffaelle, whowere his cotemporaries and admirers. " Also, a missal of the fifteenthcentury, containing ninety-two miniatures by Lucas van Leyden and hisscholars, executed in a truly Dutch style, just the reverse of those ofClovio, except in point of elaborate finishing. 

GEORGE MORLAND. 

The life of this extraordinary genius is full of interest, and hismelancholy fall full of warning and instruction. He was the son of anindifferent painter, whose principal business was in cleaning andrepairing, and dealing in ancient pictures. Morland showed anextraordinary talent for painting almost in his infancy, and before hewas sixteen years old, his name was known far and wide by engravingsfrom his pictures. His father, who seems to have been a man of a low andsordid disposition, had his son indented to him as an apprentice, forseven years, in order to secure his services as long as possible, and heconstantly employed him in painting pictures and making drawings forsale; and these were frequently of a broad character, as such commandedthe best prices, and found the most ready sale. Hence he acquired awonderful facility of pencil, but wholly neglected academic study. Hisassociates were the lowest of the low. On the expiration of hisindenture, he left his father's house, and the remainder of his life isthe history of genius degraded by intemperance and immorality, whichalternately excites our admiration at his great talents, our regrets atthe profligacy of his conduct, and our pity for his misfortunes. According to his biographer, Mr. George Dawe, who wrote an impartial andexcellent life of Morland, he reached the full maturity of his powers, about 1790 when he was twenty-six years old; and from that time, theybegan and continued to decline till his death in 1804. Poor Morland wasconstantly surrounded by a set of harpies, who contrived to get him intheir debt, and then compelled him to paint a picture for a guinea, which they readily sold for thirty or forty, and which now bring almostany sum asked for them. Many of his best works were painted in sponginghouses to clear him from arrest. 

MORLAND'S EARLY TALENT. 

Morland's father having embarked in the business of picture dealing, hadbecome bankrupt, and it is said that he endeavored to repair his brokenfortunes by the talents of his son George, who, almost as soon as heescaped from the cradle, took to the pencil and crayon. Very manyartists are recorded to have manifested an "early inclination for art, "but the indications of early talent in others are nothing when comparedwith Morland's. "_At four, five, and six years of age_, " saysCunningham, "_he made drawings worthy of ranking him among the commonrace of students_; the praise bestowed on these by the Society ofArtists, to whom they were exhibited, and the money which collectorswere willing to pay for the works of this new wonder, induced his fatherto urge him onward in his studies, and he made rapid progress. "

MORLAND'S EARLY FAME. 

The danger of overtasking either the mind or body in childhood, is wellknown; and there is every reason to believe that young Morland sufferedboth of these evils. His father stimulated him by praise and byindulgence at the table, and to ensure his continuance at his allottedtasks, shut him up in a garret, and excluded him from free air, whichstrengthens the body, and from education--that free air which nourishesthe mind. His stated work for a time was making drawings from picturesand from plaster casts, which his father carried out and sold; but as heincreased in skill, he chose his subjects from popular songs andballads, such as "Young Roger came tapping at Dolly's window, " "My nameis Jack Hall, " "I am a bold shoemaker, from Belfast Town I came, " andother productions of the mendicant muse. The copies of pictures andcasts were commonly sold for three half-crowns each; the originalsketches--some of them a little free in posture, and not over delicatelyhandled, were framed and disposed of for any sum from two to fiveguineas, according to the cleverness of the piece, or the generosity ofthe purchaser. Though far inferior to the productions of his manhood, they were much admired; engravers found it profitable to copy them, andbefore he was sixteen years old, his name had flown far and wide. 

MORLAND'S MENTAL AND MORAL EDUCATION, UNDER AN UNNATURAL PARENT. 

From ten years of age, young Morland appears to have led the life of aprisoner and a slave under the roof of his father, hearing in hisseclusion the merry din of the schoolboys in the street, without hope ofpartaking in their sports. By-and-by he managed to obtain an hour'srelaxation at the twilight, and then associated with such idle andprofligate boys as chance threw in his way, and learned from them a lovefor coarse enjoyment, and the knowledge that it could not well beobtained without money. Oppression keeps the school of Cunning; youngMorland resolved not only to share in the profits of his own talents, but also to snatch an hour or so of amusement, without consulting hisfather. When he made three drawings for his father, he made one secretlyfor himself, and giving a signal from his window, lowered it by a stringto two or three knowing boys, who found a purchaser at a reduced price, and spent the money with the young artist. A common tap-room was anindifferent school of manners, whatever it might be for painting, andthere this gifted lad was now often to be found late in the evening, carousing with hostlers and potboys, handing round the quart pot, andsinging his song or cracking his joke. 

His father, having found out the contrivance by which he raised moneyfor this kind of revelry adopted, in his own imagination, a wisercourse. He resolved to make his studies as pleasant to him as he could;and as George was daily increasing in fame and his works in price, thiscould be done without any loss. He indulged his son, now some sixteenyears old, with wine, pampered his appetite with richer food, andmoreover allowed him a little pocket-money to spend among hiscompanions, and purchase acquaintance with what the vulgar call life. Hedressed him, too, in a style of ultra-dandyism, and exhibited him at hiseasel to his customers, attired in a green coat with very long skirts, and immense yellow buttons, buckskin breeches, and top boots with spurs. He permitted him too to sing wild songs, swear grossly, and talk aboutanything he liked with such freedom as makes anxious parents tremble. With all these indulgences the boy was not happy; he aspired but themore eagerly after full liberty and the unrestrained enjoyment of theprofits of his pencil. 

MORLAND'S ESCAPE FROM THE THRALDOM OF HIS FATHER. 

Hassell and Smith give contradictory accounts of this important step inyoung Morland's life, which occurred when he was seventeen years old. The former, who knew him well, says that, "he was determined to make hisescape from the rigid confinement which paternal authority had imposedupon him; and, wild as a young quadruped that had broken loose from hisden, at length, though late, effectually accomplished his purpose. ""Young George was of so unsettled a disposition, " says Smith, "that hisfather, being fully aware of his extraordinary talents, was determinedto force him to get his own living, and gave him a guinea, withsomething like the following observation: 'I am _determined_ toencourage your idleness no longer; there--take that guinea, and apply toyour art and support yourself. ' This Morland told me, and added, thatfrom that moment he commenced and continued wholly on his own account. "It would appear by Smith's relation, that our youth, instead ofsupporting his father, had all along been depending on his help; this, however, contradicts not only Hassell, but Fuseli also, who, in hisedition of Pilkington's Dictionary, accuses the elder Morland ofavariciously pocketing the whole profits of his son's productions. 

MORLAND'S MARRIAGE, AND TEMPORARY REFORM. 

After leaving his father, Morland plunged into a career of wildness anddissipation, amidst which, however, his extraordinary talents kept hisname still rising. While residing at Kensall Green, he was frequentlythrown in the company of Ward, the painter, whose example of moralsteadiness was exhibited to him in vain. At length, however, he fell inlove with Miss Ward, a young lady of beauty and modesty, and the sisterof his friend. Succeeding in gaining her affections, he soon afterwardsmarried her; and to make the family union stronger, Ward sued for thehand of Maria Morland, and in about a month after his sister's marriage, obtained it. In the joy of this double union, the brother artists tookjoint possession of a good house in High Street, Marylebone. Morlandsuspended for a time his habit of insobriety, discarded the socialcomrades of his laxer hours, and imagined himself reformed. But discordbroke out between the sisters concerning the proper division of rule andauthority in the house; and Morland, whose partner's claim perhaps wasthe weaker, took refuge in lodgings in Great Portland Street. Hispassion for late hours and low company, restrained through courtship andthe honey-moon, now broke out with the violence of a stream which hadbeen dammed, rather than dried up. It was in vain that his wifeentreated and remonstrated--his old propensities prevailed, and thepost-boy, the pawnbroker, and the pugilist, were summoned again to hisside, no more to be separated. 

MORLAND'S SOCIAL POSITION. 

Morland's dissipated habits and worthless companions, produced theeffect that might have been expected; and this talented painter, whomight have mingled freely among nobles and princes, came strength tohold a position in society that is best illustrated by the followinganecdote. Raphael Smith, the engraver, had employed him for years onworks _from_ which he engraved, and _by_ which he made large sums ofmoney. He called one day with Bannister the comedian to look at apicture which was upon the easel. Smith was satisfied with the artist'sprogress, and said, "I shall now proceed on my morning ride. " "Stay amoment, " said Morland, laying down his brush, "and I will go with you. ""Morland, " answered the other, in an emphatic tone, which could not bemistaken, "I have an appointment with a _gentleman_, who is waiting forme. " Such a sarcasm might have cured any man who was not incurable; itmade but a momentary impression upon the mind of our painter, who cursedthe engraver, and returned to his palette. 

AN UNPLEASANT DILEMMA. 

Morland once received an invitation to Barnet, and was hastening thitherwith Hassell and another friend, when he was stopped at Whetstoneturnpike by a lumber or jockey cart, driven by two persons, one of thema chimney-sweep, who were disputing with the toll-gatherer. Morlandendeavored to pass, when one of the wayfarers cried, "What! Mr. Morland, won't you speak to a body!" The artist endeavored to elude furthergreeting, but this was not to be; the other bawled out so lustily, thatMorland was obliged to recognize at last his companion and croney, Hooper, a tinman and pugilist. After a hearty shake of the hand, theboxer turned to his neighbor the chimney-sweep and said, "Why, Dick, don't you know this here gentleman? 'tis my friend Mr. Morland. " Thesooty charioteer smiling a recognition, forced his unwelcome hand uponhis brother of the brush; they then both whipt their horses anddeparted. This rencontre mortified Morland very sensibly; he declaredthat he knew nothing of the chimney-sweep, and that he was forced uponhim by the impertinence of Hooper: but the artist's habits made thestory generally believed, and "Sweeps, your honor, " was a joke which hewas often obliged to hear. 

MORLAND AT THE ISLE OF WIGHT. 

Morland loved to visit this isle in his better days, and some of hisbest pictures are copied from scenes on that coast. A friend once foundhim at Freshwater-Gate, in a low public-house called The Cabin. Sailors, rustics, and fishermen, were seated round him in a kind of ring, therooftree rung with laughter and song; and Morland, with manifestreluctance, left their company for the conversation of his friend. "George, " sad his monitor, "you must have reasons for keeping suchcompany. " "Reasons, and good ones, " said the artist, laughing;"see--where could I find such a picture of life as that, unless amongthe originals of The Cabin?" He held up his sketch-book and showed acorrect delineation of the very scene in which he had so lately been thepresiding spirit. One of his best pictures contains this fac-simile ofthe tap-room, with its guests and furniture. 

A NOVEL MODE OF FULFILLING COMMISSIONS. 

"It frequently happened, " says one of Morland's biographers, "when apicture had been bespoke by one of his friends, who advanced some of themoney to induce him to work, if the purchaser did not stand by to see itfinished and carry it away with him, some other person, who was lurkingwithin sight for that purpose, and knew the state of Morland's pocket, by the temptation of a few guineas laid upon the table, carried off thepicture. Thus all were served in their turn; and though each exulted inthe success of the trick when he was so lucky as to get a picture inthis easy way, they all joined in exclaiming against Morland's want ofhonesty in not keeping his promises to them. "

HASSELL'S FIRST INTERVIEW WITH MORLAND. 

Hassell's introduction to Morland was decidedly in character. "As I waswalking, " he says, "towards Paddington on a summer morning, to inquireabout the health of a relation, I saw a man posting on before me with asucking-pig, which he carried in his arms like a child. The piteoussqueaks of the little animal, and the singular mode of conveyance, drewspectators to door and window; the person however who carried it mindedno one, but to every dog that barked--and there were not a few--he satdown the pig, and pitted him against the dog, and then followed thechase which was sure to ensue. In this manner he went through severalstreets in Mary-le-bone, and at last, stopping at the door of one of myfriends, was instantly admitted. I also knocked and entered, but mysurprise was great on finding this original sitting with the pig stillunder his arm, and still greater when I was introduced to Morland thepainter. "

MORLAND'S DRAWINGS IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT. 

A person at whose house Morland resided when in the Isle of Wight, having set out for London, left an order with an acquaintance at Cowesto give the painter his own price for whatever works he might please tosend. The pictures were accompanied by a regular solicitation for cashin proportion, or according to the nature of the subject. At length asmall but very highly finished drawing arrived, and as the sum demandedseemed out of all proportion with the size of the work, theconscientious agent transmitted the piece to London and stated theprice. The answer by post was, "Pay what is asked, and get as manyothers as you can at the same price. " There is not one sketch in thecollection thus made but what would now produce thrice its originalcost. 

MORLAND'S FREAKS. 

One evening Hassell and his friends were returning to town fromHempstead, when Morland accosted them in the character of a mountedpatrole, wearing the parish great-coat, girded with a broad black belt, and a pair of pistols depending. He hailed them with "horse patrole!" inhis natural voice; they recognised him and laughed heartily, upon whichhe entreated them to stop at the Mother Red Cap, a well knownpublic-house, till he joined them. He soon made his appearance in hisproper dress, and gave way to mirth and good fellowship. On anotheroccasion he paid a _parishioner_, who was drawn for constable, to bepermitted to serve in his place, he billeted soldiers during the day, and presided in the constable's chair at night. 

A JOKE ON MORLAND. 

At another time, having promised to paint a picture for M. De Calonne, Morland seemed unwilling to begin, but was stimulated by the followingstratagem. Opposite to his house in Paddington was the White Lion. Hassell directed two of his friends to breakfast there, and instructedthem to look anxiously towards the artist's window, and occasionallywalk up and down before the house. He then waited on Morland, who onlybrandished his brush at the canvas and refused to work. After waitingsome time, Hassell went to the window and effected surprise at seeingtwo strangers gazing intently at the artist's house. Morland looked atthem earnestly--declared they were bailiffs, who certainly wantedhim--and ordered the door to be bolted. Hassell having secured him athome, showed him the money for his work, and so dealt with him that thepicture, a landscape with six figures, one of his best productions, wascompleted in six hours. He then paid him, and relieved his apprehensionsrespecting the imaginary bailiffs--Morland laughed heartily. 

MORLAND'S APPREHENSION AS A SPY. 

While spending some time at Yarmouth, Morland was looked upon as asuspicious character, and was apprehended as a spy. After a sharpexamination, the drawings he had made on the shores of the Isle of Wightwere considered as confirmation of his guilt; he was therefore honoredwith an escort of soldiers and constables to Newport, and thereconfronted by a bench of justices. At his explanation, they shook theirheads, laid a strict injunction upon him to paint and draw no more inthat neighborhood, and dismissed him. This adventure he considered akind of pleasant interruption; and indeed it seems ridiculous enough inthe officials who apprehended him. 

MORLAND'S "SIGN OF THE BLACK BULL. "

On one occasion, Morland was on his way from Deal, and Williams, theengraver, was his companion. The extravagance of the preceding eveninghad fairly emptied their pockets; weary, hungry and thirsty, theyarrived at a small ale-house by the way-side; they hesitated to enter. Morland wistfully reconnoitered the house, and at length accosted thelandlord--"Upon my life, I scarcely knew it: is this the Black Bull?""To be sure it is, master, " said the landlord, "there's the sign. "--"Ay!the board is there, I grant, " replied our wayfarer, "but the Black Bullis vanished and gone. I will paint you a capital new one for a crown. "The landlord consented, and placed a dinner and drink before thisrestorer of signs, to which the travelers did immediate justice. "Now, landlord, " said Morland, "take your horse, and ride to Canterbury--it isbut a little way--and buy me proper paint and a good brush. " He went onhis errand with a grudge, and returned with the speed of thought, forfear that his guests should depart in his absence. By the time thatMorland had painted the Black Bull, the reckoning had risen to tenshillings, and the landlord reluctantly allowed them to go on their way;but not, it is said, without exacting a promise that the remainder ofthe money should be paid with the first opportunity. The painter, on hisarrival it town, related this adventure in the Hole-in-the-Wall, FleetStreet. A person who overheard him, mounted his horse, rode into Kent, and succeeded in purchasing the Black Bull from the Kentish Boniface forten guineas. 

MORLAND AND THE PAWNBROKER. 

Even when Morland had sunk to misery and recklessness, the spirit ofindustry did not forsake him, nor did his taste or his skill descendwith his fortunes. One day's work would have purchased him a week'ssustenance, yet he labored every day, and as skilfully and beautifullyas ever. A water man was at one time his favorite companion, whom, byway of distinction, Morland called "My Dicky. " Dicky once carried apicture to the pawnbroker's, wet from the easel, with the request forthe advance of three guineas upon it. The pawnbroker paid the money; butin carrying it into the room his foot slipped, and the head andforeparts of a hog were obliterated. The money-changer returned thepicture with a polite note, requesting the artist to restore the damagedpart. "My Dicky!" exclaimed Morland, "an that's a good one! but nevermind!" He reproduced the hog in a few minutes, and said, "There! go backand tell the pawnbroker to advance me five guineas more upon it; and ifhe won't, say I shall proceed against him; the price of the picture isthirty guineas. " The demand was complied with. 

MORLAND'S IDEA OF A BARONETCY. 

Morland was well descended. In his earlier and better days, a solicitorinformed him that he was heir to a baronet's title, and advised him toassert his claim. "Sir George Morland!" said the painter--"It _sounds_well, but it won't do. Plain George Morland will always sell mypictures, and there is more honor in being a fine painter than in beinga fine gentleman. "

MORLAND'S ARTISTIC MERIT. 

As an artist, Morland's claims are high and undisputed. He is originaland alone; his style and conceptions are his own; his thoughts are everat home, and always natural; he extracts pleasing subjects out of themost coarse and trivial scenes, and finds enough to charm the eye in thecommonest occurrences. His subjects are usually from low life, such ashog-sties, farm-yards, landscapes with cattle and sheep, or fishermenwith smugglers on the sea-coast. He seldom or ever produced a pictureperfect in all its parts, but those parts adapted to his knowledge andtaste were exquisitely beautiful. Knowing well his faults, he usuallyselected those subjects best suited to his talents. His knowledge ofanatomy was extremely limited; he was totally unfitted for representingthe human figure elegantly or correctly, and incapable of largecompositions. He never paints above the most ordinary capacity, andgives an air of truth and reality to whatever he touches. He has taken astrong and lasting hold of the popular fancy: not by ministering to ourvanity, but by telling plain and striking truths. He is the rusticpainter for the people; his scenes are familiar to every eye, and hisname is on every lip. Painting seemed as natural to him as language isto others, and by it he expressed his sentiments and his feelings, andopened his heart to the multitude. His gradual descent in society may betraced in the productions of his pencil; he could only paint well whathe saw or remembered; and when he left the wild sea-shore and the greenwood-side for the hedge ale-house and the Rules of the Bench, thecharacter of his pictures shifted with the scene. Yet even then hiswonderful skill of hand and sense of the picturesque never forsook him. His intimacy with low life only dictated his theme--the coarseness ofthe man and the folly of his company never touched the execution of hispieces. All is indeed homely--nay, mean--but native taste and eleganceredeemed every detail. To a full command over every implement of hisart, he united a facility of composition and a free readiness of handperhaps quite unrivalled. 

CHARLES JERVAS. 

This artist was a pupil of Sir Godfrey Kneller, and met with plentifulemployment in portrait painting. His abilities were very inferior, but, says Walpole, "Such was the badness of the age's taste, and the dearthof good masters, that Jervas sat at the head of his profession, althoughhe was defective in drawing, coloring, composition, and likeness. Ingeneral, his pictures are a light flimsy kind of fan-painting as largeas life. Yet I have seen a few of his works highly colored, and it iscertain that his copies of Carlo Maratti, whom he most studied andimitated, were extremely just, and scarcely inferior to the originals. "

JERVAS THE INSTRUCTOR OF POPE. 

What will recommend the name of Jervas to inquisitive posterity, was hisintimacy with Pope, whom he instructed to draw and paint. The poet hasenshrined the feeble talents of the painter in "the lucid amber of hisflowing lines. " Spence informs us, that Pope was "the pupil of Jervasfor the space of a year said a half, " meaning that he was constantly so, for that period. Tillemans was engaged in painting a landscape for LordRadnor, into which Pope by stealth inserted some strokes, which theprudent painter did not appear to observe; and of this circumstance Popewas not a little vain. In proof of his proficiency in the art ofpainting, Pope presented his friend Mr. Murray, with a head of Bettertonthe celebrated tragedian, which was afterwards at Caen Wood. During along visit at Holm Lacy in Herefordshire, he amused his leisure bycopying from Vandyck, in crayons, a head of Wentworth, Earl ofStrafford, which was still preserved there many years afterwards, and issaid to have possessed considerable merit. For an account of Pope'sskill in painting fans, see vol. I. Page 201 of this work. 

JERVAS AND DR. ARBUTHNOT. 

Jervas, who affected to be a Free-thinker, was one day talking veryirreverently of the Bible. Dr. Arbuthnot maintained to him that he wasnot only a speculative, but a practical believer. Jervas denied it. Arbuthnot said that he would prove it: "You strictly observe the secondcommandment;" said the Doctor, "for in your pictures you 'make not thelikeness of anything that is in the heavens above, or in the earthbeneath, or in the waters under the earth'"!

JERVAS' VANITY. 

His vanity and conceit knew no bounds. He copied a picture by Titian inthe Royal collection, which he thought so vastly superior to theoriginal, that on its completion he exclaimed with great complacency, "Poor little Tit, how he would stare!" Walpole says, "Jervas hadventured to look upon the fair Lady Bridgewater with more than apainter's eye; so entirely did that lovely form possess his imagination, that many a homely dame was delighted to find her picture resemble LadyBridgewater. Yet neither his presumption nor his passion couldextinguish his self-love. " One day, as she was sitting to him, he ranover the beauties of her face with rapture--'but, ' said he, "I cannothelp telling your ladyship that you have not a handsome ear. " "No!"returned the lady, "pray, Mr. Jervas, what is a handsome ear?" He turnedhis cap, and showed her his own. When Kneller heard that Jervas had sentup a carriage and four horses, he exclaimed, "Ah, mine Got! if hishorses do not draw better than he does, he will never get to hisjourney's end!"

HOLBEIN AND THE FLY. 

Before Holbein quitted Basile for England, he intimated that he shouldleave a specimen of the power of his abilities. Having a portrait in hishouse which he had just finished for one of his patrons, he painted afly on the forehead, and sent it to the person for whom it was painted. The gentleman was struck with the beauty of the piece, and went eagerlyto brush off the fly, when he found out the deceit. The story soonspread, and orders were immediately given to prevent the city beingdeprived of Holbein's talents; but he had already departed. 

HOLBEIN'S VISIT TO ENGLAND. 

Furnished with recommendatory letters from his friend Sir Thomas More, Holbein went to England, and was received into More's house, where hewrought for nearly three years, drawing the portraits of Sir Thomas, hisrelations and friends. The King, (Henry VIII. ) visiting the Chancellor, saw some of these pictures, and expressed his satisfaction. Sir Thomasbegged him to accept which ever he liked; but his Majesty inquired forthe painter, who was accordingly introduced to him. Henry immediatelytook him into his own service and told the Chancellor that now he hadgot the artist, he did not want the pictures. An apartment in the palacewas allotted to Holbein, with a salary of 200 florins besides the priceof his pictures. 

HENRY VIII. 'S OPINION OF HOLBEIN. 

The King retained Holbein in his service many years, during which timehe painted the portrait of his Majesty many times, and probably those ofall his queens, though no portrait of Catharine Parr is certainly knownto be from his hand. An amusing and characteristic anecdote is related, showing the opinion the King entertained of this artist. One day, asHolbein was privately drawing some lady's picture for Henry, a greatlord forced himself into the chamber, when the artist flew into aterrible passion, and forgetting everything else in his rage, ran at thepeer and threw him down stairs! Upon a sober second thought, however, seeing the rashness of this act, Holbein bolted the door, escaped overthe top of the house, and running directly to the King, besoughtpardon, without telling his offence. His majesty promised he wouldforgive him if he would tell the truth; but on finding out the offence, began to repent of his promise, and said he should not easily overlooksuch insults, and bade him wait in the apartment till he learned more ofthe matter. Immediately after, the lord arrived with his complaint, butdiminishing the provocation. At first the monarch heard the story withtemper, but soon broke out, reproaching the nobleman with his want oftruth, and adding, "You have not to do with Holbein, but with me; I tellyou, of seven peasants I can make seven lords; but of seven lords Icannot make one Holbein! Begone, and remember that if you ever attemptto revenge yourself, I shall look on any injury offered to the painteras done to myself. "

HOLBEIN'S PORTRAIT OF THE DUCHESS DOWAGER OF MILAN. 

After the death of Jane Seymour, Holbein was sent to Flanders by theKing, to paint the portrait of the Duchess Dowager of Milan, widow ofFrancesco Sforza, whom Charles V. Had recommended to Henry for a fourthwife, although the German Emperor subsequently changed his mind, andprevented the marriage. There is a letter among the Holbein MSS. FromSir Thomas Wyatt, congratulating his Majesty on his escape, as theDuchess' chastity was somewhat equivocal, but says Walpole, "If it was, I am apt to think, considering Henry's temper, that the Duchess had thegreater escape!"--About the same time it is said that the Duchessherself, sent the King word, "That she had but one head; if she had two, one of them should be at his Majesty's service. "

HOLBEIN'S FLATTERY IN PORTRAITS--A WARNING TO PAINTERS. 

Holbein was dispatched by Cromwell, Henry's Minister, to paint the LadyAnne of Cleves, and by practising the common flattery of his profession, "he was, " says Walpole, "the immediate cause of the destruction of thatgreat subject, and of the disgrace which fell upon the princess herself. He drew so favorable a likeness that Henry was content to wed her; butwhen he found her so inferior to the miniature, the storm which shouldhave really been directed at the painter, burst on the minister; andCromwell lost his head, because Anne was _a Flanders mare_, and not aVenus, as Holbein had represented her. "

HOLBEIN'S PORTRAIT OF CRATZER. 

He painted the portrait of Nicholas Cratzer, astronomer to Henry VIII. , which Walpole mentions as being in the Royal collection in France. Thisastronomer erected the dial at Corpus Christi, Oxford College, in 1550. After thirty years' residence in England, he had scarce learned tospeak the language, and his Majesty asking him how that happened, hereplied, "I beseech your highness to pardon me; what can a man learn inonly thirty years?" The latter half of this memorable sentence mayremind the reader of Sir Isaac Newton; and perhaps the study ofastronomy does naturally produce such a feeling in the reflective mind. 

HOLBEIN'S PORTRAITS OF SIR THOMAS MORE AND FAMILY. 

Holbein painted the portraits of the Chancellor and family; and no lessthan six different pictures of this subject are attributed to his hand;but of these Walpole thinks only two to possess good evidences oforiginality. One of these was in Deloo's collection, and after his deathwas purchased by Mr. Roper, More's grandson. Another was in the PalazzoDelfino at Venice, where it was long on sale, the price first set being£1500; but the King of Poland purchased it about 1750, for near £400. The coloring of this work is beautiful beyond description, and thecarnations have that bloom so peculiar to Holbein, who touched his worksuntil not a touch remained discernible. Walpole says, "It was evidentlydesigned for a small altar-piece to a chapel; in the middle on a thronesits the Virgin and child; on one side kneels an elderly gentleman withtwo sons, one of them a naked infant opposite kneeling are his wife anddaughters. "

There is recorded a bon-mot of Sir Thomas on the birth of his son. Hehad three daughters, but his wife was impatient for a son: at last theyhad one, but not much above an idiot--"you have prayed so long for aboy, " said the Chancellor, "that now we have got one who I believe willbe a boy as long as he lives!"

SIR JOHN VANBRUGH AND HIS CRITICS. 

This eminent English architect, who flourished about the commencement ofthe 18th century, had to contend with the wits of the age. They waged nowar against him as a wit, for he was not inferior; but as an architect, he was the object of their keenest derision, particularly for hiscelebrated work of the stupendous palace of Blenheim, erected for theDuke of Marlborough in accordance with the vote of a grateful nation. Swift was a satirist, therefore no true critic; and his disparagement ofBlenheim arose from party-feeling. Pope was more decisive, and by theharmony of his numbers contributed to lead and bias the public opinion, until a new light emanated from the criticism of Sir Joshua Reynolds;and this national palace is now to be considered, not on itsarchitectural, but its picturesque merits. A criticism which caused somemorable a revolution in public taste, must be worthy of an extract. "Ipretend to no skill in architecture--I judge now of the art merely as apainter. To speak then of Vanbrugh in the language of a painter, he hadoriginality of invention, he understood light and shadow, and had greatskill in composition. To support his principal object he produced hissecond and third groups of masses; he perfectly understood in _his_ artwhat is most difficult in _ours_, the conduct of the background, bywhich the design and invention is set off to the greatest advantage. What the background is in painting, is the real ground upon which thebuilding is erected; and no architect took greater care that his worksshould not appear crude and hard; that is, it did not start abruptly outof the ground, without speculation or preparation. This is the tributewhich a painter owes to an architect who composed like a painter. "

Besides this, the testimony of Knight, Price, and Gilpin, havecontributed to remove the prejudices against Vanbrugh. Knight says inhis "Principles of Taste, " Sir John Vanbrugh is the only architect Iknow of, who has either planned or placed his houses according to theprinciples recommended; and in his two chief works, Blenheim and CastleHoward, it appears to have been strictly adhered to, at least in theplacing of them, and both are certainly worthy of the best situations, which not only the respective places, but the island of Great Britaincould afford. 

Vanbrugh also evinced great talent as a dramatic writer, and hismasterly powers in comedy are so well evinced in the Relapse, theProvoked Wife, and other plays, that were it not for their stronglibertine tendency which have properly banished them from the stage, andalmost from the closet, he would have been regarded as a standardclassic author in English dramatic literature. His private characterseems to have been amiable, and his conduct tolerably correct. He diedat his own house in Whitehall, in 1726. In his character of architect, Dr. Evans bestowed on him the following witty epitaph:

 "Lie heavy on him, earth, for he Laid many a heavy load on thee"!

ANECDOTE OF THE ENGLISH PAINTER JAMES SEYMOUR. 

He was employed by the Duke of Somerset, commonly called "the ProudDuke, " to paint the portraits of his horses at Petworth, whocondescended to sit with Seymour (his namesake) at table. One day atdinner, the Duke filled his glass, and saying with a sneer, "_Cousin_Seymour, your health, " drank it off. "My Lord, " said the artist, "Ibelieve I _have_ the honor of being related to your grace. " The proudpeer rose from the table, and ordered his steward to dismiss thepresumptuous painter, and employ an humbler brother of the brush. Thiswas accordingly done; but when the new painter saw the spirited works ofhis predecessor, he shook his head, and retiring said, "No man inEngland can compete with James Seymour. " The Duke now condescended torecall his discarded cousin. "My Lord, " was the answer of Seymour, "Iwill now prove to the world that I am of your blood--_I won't come. _"Upon receiving this laconic reply, the Duke sent his steward to demand aformer loan of £100. Seymour briefly replied that "he would write to hisGrace. " He did so, but directed his letter, "Northumberland House, opposite the Trunkmaker's, Charing Cross. " Enraged at this additionalinsult, the Duke threw the letter into the fire without opening it, andimmediately ordered his steward to have him arrested. But Seymour, struck with an opportunity of evasion, carelessly observed that "it washasty in his Grace to burn his letter, because it contained a bank notefor £100, and that _therefore_, they were now quits. "

PRECOCITY OF LUCA GIORDANO. 

At the age of five years, the natural taste of Lucia Giordano forpainting, led him to adopt the pencil as a plaything; at six he coulddraw the human figure with surprising correctness. The Cav. Stanzioni, passing by his father's shop, and seeing the child at work, stopped tosee his performances, and is said to have predicted that "he would oneday become the first painter of the age. " Before he was eight years oldhe painted, unknown to his father, two cherubs in a fresco, entrusted tothat artist, in an obscure part of the church of S. MariaNuova--figures so graceful as to attract considerable attention. Thisfact coming to the knowledge of the Duke de Medina de las Torres, theViceroy of Naples, he rewarded the precocious painter with some goldducats, and recommended him to the instruction of Spagnoletto, then themost celebrated painter in Naples, who accordingly received him into hisstudio. There, says Palomino, he spent nine years in close applicationto study, and there, he probably enjoyed the advantage of seeingVelasquez, during that great artist's second visit to Naples. 

GIORDANO'S ENTHUSIASM. 

When Giordano was about seventeen years old, having learned from Riberaall he could teach him, he conceived a strong desire to prosecute hisstudies at Rome. To this step, his father, who was poor, and couldperhaps ill afford to lose his earnings, refused to give his consent. Luca therefore embraced the earliest opportunity to abscond, and ranaway on foot to the metropolis of art, where he applied himself with thegreatest assiduity. He copied all the great frescos of Raffaelle in theVatican several times; he next turned his rapid pencil against the worksof Annibale Caracci in the Farnese palace. Meantime, his father diviningthe direction which the truant had taken, followed him to Rome, where, after a long search, he discovered him sketching in St. Peter's church. 

LUCA FA PRESTO. 

Giordano resided at Rome about three years with his father, who seems tohave been a helpless creature, subsisting by the sale of his son'sdrawings; but Luca cared for nothing but his studies, satisfied with apiece of bread or a few maccaroni. When their purse was low, the old manwould accompany him to the scene of his labors, and constantly urge himon, by repeating _Luca, fa presto_, (hurry Luca) which became a bywordamong the painters, and was fixed upon the young artist as a nickname, singularly appropriate to his wonderful celerity of execution. Heafterwards traveled through Lombardy to Venice, still accompanied by hisfather, and having studied the works of Correggio, Titian, and othergreat masters, returned by way of Florence and Leghorn to Naples, wherehe soon after married the Donna Margarita Ardi, a woman of exquisitebeauty, who served him as a model for his Virgins, Madonnas, Lucretias, and Venuses. 

GIORDANO'S SKILL IN COPYING. 

Luca Giordano could copy any master so accurately as to deceive the bestjudges. Among his patrons in his youth was one Gasparo Romero, who wasin the habit of inflicting upon him a great deal of tedious andimpertinent advice. For this he had his revenge by causing his father tosend to that connoisseur as originals, some of his imitations ofTitian, Tintoretto, and Bassano, and afterwards avowing the deception;but he managed the joke so pleasantly that Romero was rather pleasedthan offended at his skill and wit. 

GIORDANO'S SUCCESS AT NAPLES. 

In 1655, Giordano painted in competition with Giacomo Forelli, a largepicture of St. Nicholas borne away by angels, for the church of S. Brigida, a work of such power and splendor, that it completely eclipsedhis rival, and established his reputation at the early age oftwenty-three. Two years after, he was employed by the Viceroy to paintseveral pictures for the church of S. Maria del Pianto, in competitionwith Andrea Vaccaro. The principal subjects which fell to Giordano, werethe Crucifixion, and the Virgin and St. Januarius pleading with theSaviour for Naples, afflicted with pestilence; these he executed withgreat ability. He and Vaccaro having a dispute about placing thepictures, the matter was referred to the Viceroy, who gave the choice toVaccaro as the senior artist; Giordano immediately yielded with so muchgrace and discretion, that he made a firm friend of his successfulrival. His master, Ribera, being now dead, he soon stepped into thevacant place of that popular artist. The religious bodies of thekingdom, the dignitaries of the church, and princes and nobles, eagerlysought after his works. 

GIORDANO, THE VICEROY, AND THE DUKE OF DIANO. 

The honors heaped upon Giordano by the Marquess of Heliche, compelledhim to neglect and offend other patrons. One of these personages, theDuke of Diano, being very anxious for the completion of his orders, atlast, lost all patience, and collaring the artist, he threatened himwith personal chastisement if he did not immediately fulfil hisengagements. The Viceroy being informed of the insult, took up thepainter's quarrel in right royal style. He invited the Duke, whoaffected connoisseurship, to pass judgment on a picture lately paintedby Luca for the palace, in imitation of the style of Rubens. The unluckynoble fell into the trap, and pronounced it an undoubted work by thegreat Fleming. Seeming to assent to this criticism, the Viceroy repliedthat Giordano was painting a companion to the picture, a piece ofinformation which Diano received with a sneer and a remark on theartist's uncivil treatment to persons of honor. Here Heliche hastilyinterposed, telling him that the work which he had praised was painted, not by Rubens, but by Giordano, and repeating the sentiment expressed byseveral crowned heads on like occasions, admonished him of the respectdue to a man so highly endowed by his Maker. "And how dare you, " criedhe, in a loud tone, and seizing the Duke by the collar, as the latterhad done to Giordano, "thus insult a man, who is besides, retained inmy service? Know, for the future, that none shall play the brave here, so long as I bear rule in Naples!" "This scene, " says Dominici, "passingin the presence of many of the courtiers, and some of these, witnessesof the insult offered to the painter, so mortified the pride of theprovincial grandee, that he retired, covered with confusion, and fallinginto despondency, died soon after of a fever. "

GIORDANO INVITED TO FLORENCE. 

In 1679, Giordano was invited to Florence by the Grand Duke, Cosmo III. , to decorate the chapel of S. Andrea Corsini in the Carmine. His worksgave so much satisfaction to that prince, that he not only liberallyrewarded him, but overwhelmed him with civilities, and presented himwith a gold medal and chain, which he did him the honor to place abouthis neck with his own royal hands. 

GIORDANO AND CARLO DOLCI. 

While sojourning in that city, he became acquainted with Carlo Dolci, then advanced in years, who is said to have been so affected at seeingthe rapid Neapolitan execute in a few hours what would have required himmonths to perform, in his own slow and laborious manner, that he fellinto a profound melancholy, of which he soon after died: Thiscircumstance Dominici assures us, Giordano long afterwards rememberedwith tears, on being shown at Naples "a picture painted by poorCarlino. "

GIORDANO'S VISIT TO SPAIN. 

The fame of Giordano had already reached Madrid, when Don Cristobal deOntañon, a favorite courtier of Charles II. , returning from Italy, fullof admiration for Giordano and his works, so sounded his praises in theroyal ear, that the King invited him to his court, paying the expense ofhis journey, and giving him a gratuity of 1500 ducats, and appointinghim his principal painter, with a salary of 200 crowns a month. 

The painter embarked from Naples on board one of the royal galleys, accompanied by his son Nicolo, a nephew named Baldassare Valente, andtwo scholars, Aniello Rossi and Matteo Pacelli, attended by threeservants. Landing at Barcelona, and resting there a few days, heproceeded to Madrid, where he arrived in May 1692. Six of the royalcoaches were sent to meet him on the road, and conduct him to the houseof his friend Ontañon. On the day of his arrival, by the desire of theKing, he was carried to the Alcaza and presented to his Majesty. Charlesreceived him with great kindness, inquired how he had borne the fatiguesof his journey, and expressed his joy at finding him much younger inappearance than he had been taught to expect. The painter, with hisusual courtly tact, replied, that the journey he had undertaken toenter the service of so great a monarch, had revived his youth, andthat in the presence of his Majesty, he felt as if he were twenty again. "Then, " said Charles smiling, "you are not too weary to pay a visit tomy gallery, " and led him through the noble halls of Philip II. , richwith the finest pictures of Italy and Spain. It was probably on thisoccasion, that Giordano, passing before Velasquez's celebrated pictureof the Infanta and her meniñas, bestowed on it the well known name ofthe _Theology of Painting_. The King, who paid the painter theextraordinary honor to embrace him when first presented, gave him astill greater mark of his favor at parting, by kissing him on theforehead, and presenting him with the golden key as gentleman of theroyal bed-chamber. 

GIORDANO'S WORKS IN SPAIN. 

Luca Giordano resided in Spain ten years, and in that time he executedan incredible number of grand frescos, and other works for the royalpalaces, churches, and convents, as well as many more for individuals, enough to have occupied an ordinary man a long life. In the short spaceof two years, he painted in fresco, the stupendous ceiling of thechurch, and the grand staircase of the Escurial; the latter, representing the Battle of St. Quintin, and the Capture of Montmorenci, is considered one of his finest works. His next productions were thegreat saloon in the Bueno Retiro; the sacristy of the great church atToledo; the ceiling of the Royal Chapel at Madrid, and other importantworks. After the death of Charles II. , he was employed in the samecapacity by his successor, Philip V. These labors raised his reputationto the highest pitch; he was loaded with riches and favors, and Charlesconferred upon him the honor of knighthood. 

GIORDANO AT THE ESCURIAL. 

Whilst Giordano was employed at the Escurial two Doctors of Theologywere ordered to attend upon him, to answer his questions, and resolveany doubts that might arise as to the orthodox manner of treating hissubjects. A courier was despatched every evening to Madrid, with aletter from the prior to the King, rendering an account of the artist'sday's work; and within the present century, some of these letters werepreserved at the Escurial. On one occasion he wrote thus, "Sire, yourGiordano has painted this day about twelve figures, thrice as large aslife. To these he has added the powers and dominations, with properangels, cherubs, and seraphs, and clouds to support the same. The twoDoctors of Divinity have not answers ready for all his questions, andtheir tongues are too slow too keep pace with the speed of his pencil. "

GIORDANO'S HABITS IN SPAIN. 

Giordano was temperate and frugal. He wrought incessantly, and to thescandal of the more devout, was found at his easel, even on days ofreligious festivals. His daily habit was to paint from eight in themorning, till noon, when he dined and rested two hours. At two heresumed his pencil, and wrought till five or six o'clock. He then tookan airing in one of the royal carriages which was placed at hisdisposal. "If I am idle a single day, " he used to say, "my pencils getthe better of me; I must keep them in subjection by constant practice. "The Spanish writers accuse him of avarice, and attribute his intenseapplication to his ambition to acquire a large fortune; that he receivedlarge prices for his works, and never spent a maravedi except in thepurchase of jewelry, of which he was very fond, and considered a goodinvestment; thus he astonished Palomino by showing him a magnificentpearl necklace; but it should be recollected he was in the service ofthe King, and had a fixed salary, by no means large, which he wasentitled to receive whether he wrought or played. He was doubtlessbetter paid for his private commissions, which he could quicklydespatch, than for his royal labors. 

GIORDANO'S FIRST PICTURES PAINTED AT MADRID. 

The first work Giordano executed in Spain was a fine imitation of apicture by Bassano, which happened under the following circumstances. The King, during his first interview with the painter, had remarked withregret, that a certain picture in the Alcaza, by that master, wanted acompanion, Giordano secretly procured a frame and a piece of oldVenetian canvas of the size of the other, and speedily produced apicture, having all the appearance of age and a fine match to theoriginal, and hung it by its side. The King, in his next walk throughthe gallery, instantly noticed the change with surprise andsatisfaction, and learning the story from his courtiers, he approachedthe artist, and laying his hand on his shoulder, saluted him with "Longlife to Giordano. "

GIORDANO A FAVORITE AT COURT. 

No painter, not even Titian himself, was more caressed at court, thanGiordano. Not only Charles II. , but Philip V. , delighted to do himhonor, and treated him with extraordinary favor and familiarity. Hisbrilliant success is said to have shortened the life of Claudio Coello, the ablest of his Castilian rivals. According to Dominici, that painter, jealous of Giordano, and desirous of impairing his credit at the courtof Spain, challenged him to paint in competition with him in thepresence of the King, a large composition fifteen palms high, representing the Archangel Michael vanquishing Satan. Giordano at onceaccepted the challenge, and in little more than three hours, produced awork which not only amazed and delighted the royal judge, but confoundedpoor Coello. "Look you, man, " said the King to the discomfited Spaniard, and pointing to Luca Fa-presto, "there stands the best painter inNaples, Spain, and the whole world; verily, _he_ is a painter for aKing. "

Both Charles and Queen Mariana of Neuberg, sat several times to Giordanofor their portraits. They were never weary of visiting his studio, andtook great pleasure in his lively conversation, and exhibitions ofartistic skill. One day, the Queen questioned him curiously about thepersonal appearance of his wife, who she had learned was very beautiful. Giordano dashed off the portrait of his _Cara Sposa_, and cut short herinterrogation by saying, "Here, Madame, is your Majesty's most humbleservant herself, " an effort of skill and memory, which struck the Queenas something so wonderful as to require a particular mark of herapprobation, --she accordingly "sent to the Donna Margarita a string ofpearls from the neck of her most gracious sovereign. " Giordano wouldsometimes amuse the royal pair, by laying on his colors with his fingersand thumb, instead of brushes. In this manner, says Palomino, heexecuted a tolerable portrait of Don Francisco Filipin, a feat overwhich the monarch rejoiced with almost boyish transport. "It seemed tohim as if he was carried back to that delightful night when he first sawhis beautiful Maria Louisa dance a saraband at the ball of Don Pedro ofAragon. His satisfaction found vent in a mark of favor which not alittle disconcerted the recipient. Removing the sculpel which the artisthad permission to wear in the royal presence, he kissed him on the crownof the head, pronounced him a prodigy, and desired him to execute in thesame digital style, a picture of St. Francis of Assisi for the Queen. "Charles, on another occasion, complimented the artist, by saying, "If, as a King I am greater than Luca, Luca as a man wonderfully gifted byGod, is greater than myself, " a sentiment altogether novel for apowerful monarch of the 17th century. The Queen mother, Mariana ofAustria, was equally an admirer of the fortunate artist. On occasion ofhis painting for her apartment a picture of the Nativity of our Lord, she presented him with a rich jewel and a diamond ring of great value, from her own imperial finger. It was thus, doubtless, that he obtainedthe rich jewels which astonished Palomino, and not by purchase. CharlesII. , dying in 1700, Giordano continued for a time in the service of hissuccessor Philip V. , who treated him with the same marked favor, andcommissioned him to paint a series of pictures as a present to hisgrandfather, Louis XIV. , of France. 

GIORDANO'S RETURN TO NAPLES. 

The war of succession, however, breaking out, Giordano was glad to seizethe opportunity of re-returning to his family, on the occasion of theKing's visit to Naples. He accompanied the court to Barcelona, inFebruary, 1702, but as Philip delayed his embarkation, he asked andreceived permission to proceed by land. Parting through Genoa andFlorence to Rome, he was received everywhere with distinction, and leftsome pictures in those cities. At Rome he had the honor to kiss the feetof Clement XI. , and was permitted by special favor to enter the Papalapartments with his sword at his side, and his spectacles upon his nose. These condescensions he repaid with two large pictures, highly praised, representing the passage of the Red Sea, and Moses striking the Rock. Onhis arrival at Naples, he met with the most enthusiastic reception fromhis fellow-citizens, his renown in Spain having made him still morefamous at home. Commissions poured into him, more than he could execute, and though rich, he does not seem to have relaxed his efforts or hishabits of industry, but he did not long survive; he died of a putridfever in January, 1705, in the 73d year of his age. 

GIORDANO'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE AND CHARACTER. 

In person, Luca Giordano was of the middle height, andwell-proportioned. His complexion was dark, his countenance spare, andchiefly remarkable for the size of its nose, and an expression rathermelancholy than joyous. He was, however, a man of ready wit and jovialhumor; he was an accomplished courtier, understood the weak points ofmen that might be touched to advantage, and possessed manners soengaging, that he passed through life a social favorite. His school wasalways filled with scholars, and as a master he was kind and popular, although, according to Palomino, on one occasion he was so provoked thathe broke a silver-mounted maul-stick over the head of one of hisassistants. Greediness of gain seems to have been his besetting sin. Herefused no commission that was offered to him, and he despatched themaccording to the prices he received, saying that "he had three sorts ofpencils, made of gold, of silver, and of wood. " Yet he frequentlypainted works gratuitously, as pious offerings to the altars of poorchurches and convents. 

GIORDANO'S RICHES. 

Giordano died very rich, leaving 150, 000 ducats invested in variousways; 20, 000 ducats worth of jewels; many thousands in ready money, 1, 300 pounds weight of gold and silver plate, and a fine house full ofrich furniture. Out of this he founded an entailed estate for his eldestson, Lorenzo, and made liberal provisions for his widow, two youngersons and six daughters. His sons and sons-in-law enjoyed several postsconferred on them in the kingdom of Naples by the favor of Charles II. 

GIORDANO'S WONDERFUL FACILITY OF HAND. 

Giordano may be said to have been born with a pencil in his hand, and byconstant practice, added to a natural quickness, he acquired thatextraordinary facility of hand which, while in his subsequent career, ittended to corrupt art, materially aided his fame and success. He wasalso indefatigable in his application. Bellori says, "he made twelvedifferent designs of the Loggia and paintings by Raffaelle in theVatican; and twenty after the Battle of Constantine by Giulio Romano, besides many after Michael Angelo, Polidoro da Caravaggio, and others. The demand for his drawings and sketches was so great, that Luca, whenobliged to take refreshments, did not retire from his work, but gapinglike a young bird, gave notice to his father of the calls of nature, who, always on the watch, instantly supplied him with food, at the sametime repeating, _Luca, fa presto_. The only principle which his fatherinstilled into his mind was despatch. " Probably no artist, not evenTintoretto, produced so many pictures as Giordano. Lanzi says, "hisfacility was not derived wholly from a rapidity of pencil, but was aidedby the quickness of his imagination, which enabled him clearly toperceive, from the commencement of the work, the result he intended, without hesitating to consider the component parts, or doubling, proving, and selecting, like other painters. " Hence Giordano was alsocalled, _Il proteo della pittura_, and _Il Falmine della pittura_--theProteus, and the Lightning of painting. As an instance of the latter, itis recorded that he painted a picture while his guests were waiting fordinner. 

GIORDANO'S POWERS OF IMITATION. 

Giordano had the rare talent of being able to imitate the manner ofevery master so successfully as frequently to deceive the best judges;he could do this also without looking at the originals, the result of awonderful memory, which retained everything once seen. There arenumerous instances of pictures painted by him in the style of AlbertDurer, Bassano, Titian, and Rubens, which are valued in commerce at twoor three times the price of pictures in his own style. In the church ofS. Teresa at Naples, are two pictures by him in the style of Guido, andthere is a Holy Family at Madrid, which Mengs says may be easilymistaken for a production of Raffaelle. Giordano also had severalscholars, who imitated his own style with great precision. 

GIORDANO'S FAME AND REPUTATION. 

Perhaps no artist ever enjoyed a greater share of contemporary fame thanLuca Giordano. Possessed of inexhaustible invention, and marvellousfacility of hand, which enabled him to multiply his works to anyrequired amount he had the good fortune to hit upon a style whichpleased, though it still farther corrupted the declining taste of theage. He despatched a large picture in the presence of Cosmo III. , GrandDuke of Florence, in so short a space of time as caused him to exclaimin wonder, "You are fit to be the painter of a sovereign prince. " Thesame eulogium, under similar circumstances, was passed upon him byCharles II. A similar feat at Naples, had previously won the admirationand approbation of the Viceroy, the Marquess de Heliche, and laid thefoundation of his fortune. It became _the fashion_, to admire everythingthat came from his prolific pencil, at Madrid, as well as at Naples. Everywhere, his works, good or bad, were received with applause. When itwas related as a wonder that Giordano painted with his fingers, noAngelo was found to observe, "Why does not the blockhead use his brush. "That Giordano was a man of genius, there can be no doubt, but had heexecuted only a tenth part of the multitude he did, his fame would havebeen handed down to posterity with much greater lustre. Cean Bermudezsays of his works in Spain, "He left nothing that is absolutely bad, andnothing that is perfectly good. " His compositions generally bear themarks of furious haste, and they are disfigured in many cases byincongruous associations of pagan mythology with sacred history, and ofallegory with history, a blemish on the literature as well as the art ofthe age. Bermudez also accuses him of having corrupted and degradedSpanish art, by introducing a new and false style, which his greatreputation and royal favoritism, brought into vogue. Still, he deservespraise for the great facility of his invention, the force and richnessof his coloring, and a certain grandeur of conception and freedom ofexecution which belong only to a great master. The royal gallery atMadrid possesses no less than fifty-five of his pictures, selected fromthe multitude he left in the various royal palaces. There are also manyin the churches. Lanzi says, "Naples abounds with the works of Giordano, both public and private. There is scarcely a church in this great citywhich does not boast some of his works. "

REMARKABLE INSTANCE OF GIORDANO'S RAPIDITY OF EXECUTION. 

Giordano, on his return to Naples from Florence, established himself inRibera's fine house, opposite the Jesuit's church of S. FrancescoXavier. In 1685 he was commissioned by the Fathers to paint a largepicture for one of the principal altars, and agreed that it should becompleted by the approaching festival of the patron saint. Giordano, having other engagements on hand, put off the execution of thealtar-piece so long, that the Jesuits began to be clamorous, and atlength appealed to the Viceroy to exercise his authority. Determined tosee for himself how matters stood, that great man paid an unexpectedvisit to Giordano's studio. The painter had barely time to escape by aback door to avoid his wrath, when the Marquess de Heliche entered, whoperceiving that he had not touched the vast canvas with his brush, assuddenly retired, muttering imprecations and menaces. Luca's dashingpencil now stood him in good stead. He immediately sketched the outlinesof his composition, and setting his disciples to prepare his palettes, he painted all that day and night with so much diligence that by thefollowing afternoon, he was able to announce to the impatient Fathersthe completion of the picture. The subject was the patron of the church, St. Francis Xavier, the great Jesuit missionary, baptizing the people ofJapan. He is represented standing on a lofty flight of steps; behindhim, in the distance, is a party of zealous converts pulling down theimages of their gods, and beneath in the foreground, kneels St. FrancisBorgia in the attitude of prayer. The picture was executed with suchboldness and freedom, and excellence of coloring, that at the properdistance it produced a grand and magnificent effect. It was immediatelycarried to the church, and placed over the destined altar, the daybefore the appointed festival, and the Viceroy whose anger had hardlycooled, invited to inspect it. Charmed with the beauty of the work, andamazed by the celerity of its execution, he exclaimed, "the painter ofthis picture must be either an angel or a demon. " Giordano received hiscompliments, and made his own excuses with so much address, that theMarquess, forgetting all past offences engaged him to paint in thepalace, and passed much of his time by his side, observing his progress, and enjoying his lively conversation. 

REVIVAL OF PAINTING IN ITALY. 

"Poetry, Painting, and Sculpture, " says Cunningham, "are of the samehigh order of genius; but, as words provide at once shape and color toour thoughts, Poetry has ever led the way in the march of intellect: asmaterial forms are ready made, and require but to be skillfully copied, Sculpture succeeded; and as lights and shadows demand science andexperience to work them into shape, and endow them with sentiment, Painting was the last to rise into elegance and sublimity. In this orderthese high Arts rose in ancient Greece; and in the like order they rosein modern Italy; but none of them reached true excellence, till thelight of knowledge dawned on the human mind, nor before civilization, following in the steps of barbarism, prepared the world for thereception of works of polished grace and tranquil grandeur. 

"From the swoon into which the Fine Arts were cast by the overthrow ofthe Roman Empire, they were long in waking: all that was learned orlofty was extinguished: of Painting, there remained but the memory, andof Sculpture, some broken stones, yet smothered in the ruins of templesand cities the rules which gave art its science were lost; theknowledge of colors was passed away, and that high spirit which filledItaly and Greece with shapes and sentiments allied to heaven, hadexpired. In their own good time, Painting and Sculpture arose from theruins in which they had been overwhelmed, but their looks were altered;their air was saddened; their voice was low, though it was, as it hadbeen in Greece, holy, and it called men to the contemplation of works ofa rude grace, and a but dawning beauty. These 'sisters-twin' came atfirst with pale looks and trembling steps, and with none of theconfidence which a certainty of pleasing bestows: they came too with fewof the charms of the heathen about them: of the scientific unity ofproportion, of the modest ease, the graceful simplicity, or the almostsevere and always divine composure of Greece, they had little or none. But they came, nevertheless, with an original air and character alltheir own; they spoke of the presence of a loveliness and sentimentderived from a nobler source than pagan inspiration; they spoke of JesusChrist and his sublime lessons of peace, and charity, and belief, withwhich he had preached down the altars and temples of the heathen, andrebuked their lying gods into eternal silence. 

"Though Sculpture and Painting arose early in Italy, and arose with themantle of the Christian religion about them, it was centuries beforethey were able to put on their full lustre and beauty. For this, various causes may be assigned. 1. The nations, or rather wild hordes, who ruled where consuls and emperors once reigned, ruled but for alittle while, or were continually employed in expeditions of bloodshedand war. 2. The armed feet of the barbarians had trodden into dust allof art that was elegant or beautiful:--they lighted their camp-fireswith the verses of Euripides or Virgil; they covered their tents withthe paintings of Protogenes and Apelles, and they repaired the breachesin the walls of a besieged city, with the statues of Phidias andPraxiteles;--the desires of these barbarians were all barbarous. 3. Painting and Sculpture had to begin their labors anew; all rules werelost; all examples, particularly of the former, destroyed: men unable, therefore, to drink at the fountains of Greece, did not think, forcenturies, of striking the rock for themselves. 4. The Christianreligion, for which Art first wrought, demanded sentiment rather thanshape: it was a matter of mind which was wanted: the personal beauty ofJesus Christ is nowhere insisted upon in all the New Testament: theearliest artists, when they had impressed an air of holiness or serenityon their works, thought they had done enough; and it was only when thefears of looking like the heathen were overcome, and a sense of theexquisite beauty of Grecian sculpture prevailed, that the geometricalloveliness of the human form found its way into art. It may be added, that no modern people, save the Italians alone, seem to share fully inthe high sense of the ideal and the poetic, visible in the works ofGreece. 

"The first fruits of this new impulse were representations of Christ onthe Cross; of his forerunner, St. John; of his Virgin Mother; and of hiscompanions, the Apostles. Our Saviour had a meek and melancholy look;the hands of the Virgin are held up in prayer; something of the wildnessof the wilderness was in the air of St. John, and the twelve Apostleswere kneeling or preaching. They were all clothed from head to heel; thefaces, the hands, and the feet, alone were bare; the sentiment ofsuffering or rejoicing holiness, alone was aimed at. The artists of theheathen religion wrought in a far different spirit; the forms which theycalled to their canvas, and endowed with life and beauty, were all, ormostly naked; they saw and felt the symmetry and exquisite harmony ofthe human body, and they represented it in such elegance, such truesimplicity and sweetness, as to render their nude figures the rivals inmodesty and innocence of the most carefully dressed. A sense of thisexcellence of form is expressed by many writers. 'If, ' says Plato, 'youtake a man as he is made by nature, and compare him with another who isthe effect of art, the work of nature will always appear the lessbeautiful, because art is more accurate than nature. ' Maximus Tyrus alsosays, that 'the image which is taken by a painter from several bodies, produces a beauty which it is impossible to find in any single naturalbody, approaching to the perfection of the fairest statues. ' And Ciceroinforms us, that Zeuxis drew his wondrous picture of Helen from variousmodels, all the most beautiful that could be found; for he could notfind in one body all those perfections, which his idea of that princessrequired. 

"So far did the heathens carry their notions of ideal beauty, that theytaxed Demetrius with being too natural, and Dionysius they reproached asbut a painter of men. Lysippus himself upbraided the ordinary sculptorsof his day, for making men such as they were in nature, and boasted ofhimself, that he made men as they ought to be. Phidias copied hisstatues of Jupiter and Pallas from forms in his own soul, or those whichthe muse of Homer supplied. Seneca seems to wonder, that, the sculptorhaving never beheld either Jove or Pallas, yet could conceive theirdivine images in his mind; and another eminent ancient says, that 'thefancy more instructs the painter than the imitation; for the last makesonly the things which it sees, but the first makes also the things whichit never sees. ' Such were also, in the fulness of time and study, theideas of the most distinguished moderns. Alberti tells us, that 'weought not so much to love the likeness as the beauty, and to choose fromthe fairest bodies, severally, the fairest parts. ' Da Vinci uses almostthe same words, and desires the painter to form the idea for himself;and the incomparable Raphael thus writes to Castiglione concerning hisGalatea: 'To paint a fair one, it is necessary for me to see many fairones; but because there is so great a scarcity of lovely women, I amconstrained to make use of one certain idea, which I have formed in myown fancy. ' Guido Reni approaches still closer to the pure ideal of thegreat Christian School of Painting, when he wishes for the wings of anangel, to ascend to Paradise, and see, with his own eyes, the forms andfaces of the blessed spirits, that he might put more of heaven into hispictures. 

"Of the heaven which the great artist wished to infuse into his works, there was but little in painting, when it rose to aid religion in Italy. The shape was uncooth, the coloring ungraceful, and there was but thefaint dawn of that divine sentiment, which in time elevated Roman art tothe same eminence as the Grecian. Yet all that Christianity demandedfrom Art, at first, was readily accomplished: fine forms, and delicatehues, were not required for centuries, by the successors of theApostles; a Christ on the Cross; the Virgin lulling her divine Babe inher bosom; the Miracle of Lazarus; the Preaching on the Mount; theConversion of St. Paul; and the Ascension--roughly sculptured orcoarsely painted, perhaps by the unskilful hands of the Christianpreachers themselves--were found sufficient to explain to a barbarouspeople some of the great ruling truths of Christianity. These, and suchas these, were placed in churches, or borne about by gospelmissionaries and were appealed to, when words failed to express thedoctrines and mysteries which were required to be taught. Such appealswere no doubt frequent, in times when Greek and Latin ceased to becommonly spoken, and the present languages of Europe were shapingthemselves, like fruit in the leaf, out of the barbarous dissonance ofthe wild tongues which then prevailed. These Christian preachers, withtheir emblems and their relics, were listened to by the Gothicsubverters of the empire of art and elegance, with the more patience andcomplacency, since they desired not to share in their plunder or theirconquests, and opened to them the way to a far nobler kingdom--a kingdomnot of this earth. 

"Though abundance of figures of saints were carved, and innumerableMadonnas painted throughout Italy, in the earlier days of the Christianchurch, they were either literal transcripts of common life, ormechanical copies or imitations of works furnished from the great storelooms of the Asiatic Greeks. There were thousands--nay, tens ofthousands of men, who wrote themselves artists, while not one of themhad enough of imagination and skill to lift art above the low estate inwhich the rule and square of mechanical imitation had placed it. NiccoloPisano appears to have been the first who, at Pisa, took the right wayin sculpture: his groups, still in existence, are sometimes too crowded;his figures badly designed, and the whole defective in sentiment; buthe gave an impulse--communicated through the antique--to composition, not unperceived by his scholars, who saw with his eyes and wrought withhis spirit. The school which he founded produced, soon after, thecelebrated Ghiberti, whose gates of bronze, embellished with figures, for the church of San Giovanni, were pronounced by Michael Angelo worthyto be the gates of Paradise. While the sister art took these largestrides towards fame, Painting lagged ruefully behind; she had no truemodels, and she had no true rules; but 'the time and the man' came atlast, and this man was Giovanni Cimabue. "

GIOVANNI CIMABUE. 

This great painter is universally considered the restorer of modernpainting. The Italians call him "the Father of modern Painting;" andother nations, "the Creator of the Italian or Epic style of Painting. "He was born at Florence in 1240, of a noble family, and was skilled bothin architecture and sculpture. The legends of his own land make him thepupil of Giunta; for the men of Florence are reluctant to believe thathe was instructed in painting by those Greek artists who were called into embellish their city with miracles and Madonnas. He soon conquered aneducation which consisted in reproducing, in exact shape and color, theworks of other men: he desired to advance: he went to nature for hisforms; he grouped them with a new skill; he bestowed ease on hisdraperies, and a higher expression on his heads. His talent did notreside in the neat, the graceful, and the lovely; his Madonnas havelittle beauty, and his angels are all of one make: he succeeded best inthe heads of the old and the holy, and impressed on them, in spite ofthe barbarism of his times, a bold sublimity, which few have sincesurpassed. Critics object to the fierceness of his eyes, the want ofdelicacy in the noses of his figures, and the absence of perspective inhis compositions; but they admit that his coloring is bright andvigorous, his conceptions grand and vast, and that he loved the daringand the splendid. Nevertheless, a touch of the mechanical Greek School, and a rudeness all his own, have been observed in the works of thisgreat painter. His compositions were all of a scriptural or religiouskind, such as the church required: kings were his visitors, and thepeople of Florence paid him honors almost divine. 

CIMABUE'S PASSION FOR ART. 

Cimabue gave early proof of an accurate judgment and a clearunderstanding, and his father designed to give him a liberal education, but instead of devoting himself to letters, says Vasari, "he consumedthe whole day in drawing men, horses, houses, and other various fancieson his books and different papers--an occupation to which he felthimself impelled by nature; and this natural inclination was favored byfortune, for the governors of the city, had invited certain Greekpainters to Florence, for the purpose of restoring the art of painting, which had not merely degenerated, but was altogether lost; thoseartists, among other works, began to paint the chapel of Gondi, situatednext to the principal chapel in S. Maria Novella, where Giovanni wasbeing educated, who often escaping from school, and having already madea commencement in the art he was so fond of, would stand watching thesemasters at their work the day through. " Vasari goes on to say, that thispassion at length induced his father, already persuaded that he had thegenius to become a great painter, to place Giovanni under theinstruction of these Greek artists. From this time, he laboredincessantly day and night, and aided by his great natural powers, hesoon surpassed his teachers. 

CIMABUE'S FAMOUS PICTURE OF THE VIRGIN. 

Cimabue had already distinguished himself by many works, executed infresco and distemper for the churches at Florence, Pisa, and Assisi, when he painted his famous picture of the Holy Virgin for the church ofS. Maria Novella in the former city. This picture was accounted such awonderful performance by his fellow citizens, that they carried it fromthe house of Cimabue to the church in solemn procession, with sound oftrumpets and every demonstration of joy. "It is further reported, " saysVasari, "that whilst Cimabue was painting this picture in a garden nearthe gate of San Pietro, King Charles the elder, of Anjou, passed throughFlorence, and the authorities of the city, among other marks of respect, conducted him to see the picture of Cimabue. " This picture, representingthe Virgin and Infant Jesus surrounded by angels, larger than life, thenso novel, was regarded as such a wonderful performance, that all thepeople of Florence flocked in crowds to admire it, making all possibledemonstrations of delight. It still adorns the chapel of the Rucellaifamily in the church of S. Maria Novella for which it was painted. Theheads of the Virgin, of the infant Jesus, and the angels, are all fine, but the hands are badly drawn; this defect, however, is common with theQuattrocentisti, or artists of the 14th century. The editors of theFlorentine edition of Vasari, commenced in 1846, by an association oflearned Italians, observe, "This picture, still in fair preservation, isin the chapel of the Rucellai family; and whoever will examine itcarefully, comparing it, not only with works before the time of Cimabue, but also with those painted after him, by the Florentine masters, particularly Giotto, will perceive that the praises of Vasari arejustified in every particular. "

THE WORKS OF CIMABUE. 

Some writers assert that the works of Cimabue possessed little meritwhen compared with those of later times; and that the extraordinaryapplause which he received flowed from an age ignorant of art. It shouldbe recollected, however, that it is much easier to copy or follow, whenthe path has been marked out, than to invent or discover; and hence thatthe glorious productions of the "Prince of modern Painters, " form nocriterion by which to judge of the merits of those of the "Father ofmodern Painters. " The former had "the accumulated wisdom of ages" beforehim, of which he availed himself freely; the latter had nothing worthyof note, but his own talents and the wild field of nature, from which hewas the first of the moderns who drew in the spirit of inspiration. "Giotto, " says Vasari, "did obscure the fame of Cimabue, as a greatlight diminishes the splendor of a lesser one; so that, although Cimabuemay be considered the cause of the restoration of the art of painting, yet Giotto, his disciple, impelled by a laudable ambition, and wellaided by heaven and nature, was the man, who, attaining to superiorelevation of thought, threw open the gate of the true way, to those whoafterwards exalted the art to that perfection and greatness which itdisplays in our own age; when accustomed, as men are, daily to see theprodigies and miracles, nay the _impossibilities_, now performed byartists, they have arrived at such a point, that they no longer marvelat anything accomplished by man, even though it be more divine thanhuman. Fortunate, indeed, are artists who now labor, howevermeritoriously, if they do not incur censure instead of praise; nay, ifthey can even escape disgrace. " It should be recollected that Vasariheld this language in the days of Michael Angelo. 

All the great frescos of Cimabue, and most of his easel pictures, haveperished. Besides the picture of the Virgin before mentioned, there is aSt. Francis in the church of S. Croce, an excellent picture of St. Cecilia, in that of S. Stefano, and a Madonna in the convent of S. Paolino at Florence. There are also two paintings by Cimabue in theLouvre--the Virgin with angels, and the Virgin with the infant Jesus. Others are attributed to him, but their authenticity is very doubtful. 

DEATH OF CIMABUE. 

According to Vasari, Cimabue died in 1300, and was entombed in thechurch of S. Maria del Fiore at Florence. The following epitaph, composed by one of the Nini, was inscribed on his monument:

 "Credidit ut Cimabos picturæ castra tenere Sic tenuit, vivens, nunc tenet astra poli. "

It appears, however, from an authentic document, cited by Campi, thatCimabue was employed in 1302 in executing a mosaic picture of St. John, for the cathedral of Pisa; and as he left this figure unfinished, it isprobable that he did not long survive that year. 

GIOTTO. 

This great artist, one of the fathers of modern painting, was born atVespignano, a small town near Florence, in 1276. He was the son of ashepherd named Bondone, and while watching his father's flocks in thefield, he showed a natural genius for art by constantly delineating theobjects around him. A sheep which he had drawn upon a flat stone, afternature, attracted the attention of Cimabue, who persuaded his father, Bondone, to allow him to go to Florence, confident that he would be anornament to the art. Giotto commenced by imitating his master, but hequickly surpassed him. A picture of the Annunciation, in the possessionof the Fathers of Badia at Florence, is one of his earliest works, andmanifests a grace and beauty superior to Cimabue, though the style issomewhat dry. In his works, symmetry became more chaste, design morepleasing, and coloring softer than before. Lanzi says that if Cimabuewas the Michael Angelo of that age, Giotto was the Raffaelle. He washighly honored, and his works were in great demand. He was invited toRome by Boniface VIII. , and afterwards to Avignon by Clement V. Thenoble families of Verona, Milan, Ravenna, Urbino, and Bologna, wereeager to possess his works. In 1316, according to Vasari, he returnedfrom Avignon, and was employed at Padua, where he painted the chapel ofthe Nunziata all' Arena, divided all around into compartments, each ofwhich represents some scriptural event. Lanzi says it is trulysurprising to behold, not less on account of its high state ofpreservation beyond any other of his frescos, than for its gracefulexpression, and that air of grandeur which Giotto so well understood. About 1325 he was invited to Naples by King Robert, to paint the churchof S. Chiara, which he decorated with subjects from the New Testament, and the Mysteries of the Apocalypse. These, like many of his works, havebeen destroyed; but there remains a Madonna, and several other pictures, in this church. Giotto's portraits were greatly admired, particularlyfor their air of truth and correct resemblance. Among other illustriouspersons whom he painted, were the poet Dante, and Clement VIII. Theportrait of the former was discovered in the chapel of the Podesta, nowthe Bargello, at Florence, which had for two centuries been covered withwhitewash, and divided into cells for prisoners. The whitewash wasremoved by the painter Marini, at the instance of Signor Bezzi andothers, and the portrait discovered in the "Gloria" described by Vasari. Giotto was also distinguished in the art of mosaic, particularly for thefamous Death of the Virgin at Florence, greatly admired by MichaelAngelo; also the celebrated Navicella, or Boat of St. Peter, in theportico of the Basilica of St. Peter's at Rome, which is now somutilated and altered as to leave little of the original design. 

As an architect, Giotto attained considerable eminence, according toMilizia, and erected many important edifices, among which is thebell-tower of S. Maria del Fiore. The thickness of the walls is aboutten feet; the height is two hundred and eighty feet. The cornice whichsupports the parapet is very bold and striking; the whole exterior is ofGothic design, inlaid with marble and mosaic, and the work may beconsidered one of the finest specimens of campanile in Italy. 

GIOTTO'S ST. FRANCIS STIGMATA

In the church of S. Francesco at Pisa, is a picture by Giotto, representing St. Francis receiving the Stigmata, [A] which is in goodpreservation, and held in great veneration, not only for the sake of themaster, but for the excellence of the work. Vasari says, "It representsSt. Francis, standing on the frightful rocks of La Verna; and isfinished with extraordinary care. It exhibits a landscape with manytrees and precipices, which was a new thing in those times. In theattitude and expression of St. Francis, who is on his knees receivingthe Stigmata, the most eager desire to obtain them is clearly manifest, as well as infinite love towards Jesus Christ, who, from heaven above, where he is seen surrounded by the seraphim, grants those stigmata tohis servant, with looks of such lively affection, that it is notpossible to conceive anything more perfect. Beneath this picture arethree others, also from the life of St. Francis, and very beautiful. "

[Footnote A: Stigmata, signifies the five wounds of the Saviourimpressed by himself on the persons of certain saints, male and female, in reward for their sanctity and devotion to the service. ]

GIOTTO'S INVITATION TO ROME. 

Boniface VIII. , desirous of decorating St. Peter's church with somepaintings, having heard of the extraordinary talents of Giotto, despatched one of his courtiers to Tuscany, to ascertain the truth, asto his merits, and to procure designs from other artists for hisapprobation and selection. Vasari says, "The messenger, when on his wayto visit Giotto, and to enquire what other good masters there were inFlorence, spoke first with many artists in Siena--then, having receiveddesigns from them, he proceeded to Florence, and repaired one morning tothe workshop where Giotto was occupied with his labors. He declared thepurpose of the Pope, and the manner in which that pontiff desired toavail himself of his assistance, and finally requested to have a drawingthat he might send it to his holiness. Giotto, who was very courteous, took a sheet of paper and a pencil dipped in a red color; then restinghis elbow on his side to form a sort of compass, with one turn of thehand, he drew a circle so perfect and exact that it was a marvel tobehold. This done, he turned smiling to the courtier, saying, 'There isyour drawing. ' 'Am I to have nothing more than this?' enquired thelatter, conceiving himself to be jested with. 'That is enough and tospare, ' replied Giotto, 'send it with the rest, and you will see if itwill not be recognized. ' The messenger, unable to obtain anything more, went away very ill satisfied, and fearing that he had been fooled. Nevertheless, having despatched the other drawings to the Pope, with thenames of those who had done them, he sent that of Giotto also, relatingthe mode in which he had made his circle, without moving his arm andwithout compass; from which the Pope, and such of the courtiers as werewell versed in the subject, perceived how far Giotto surpassed all theother painters of his time. This incident becoming known, gave rise tothe proverb still used in relation to people of dull wits, 'In sei piùtondo che l'O di Giotto, ' (round as Giotto's O, ) the significance ofwhich consists in the double meaning of the word _tondo_, which is usedin the Tuscan for slowness of intellect, and slowness of comprehension, as well as for an exact circle. The proverb besides has an interest fromthe circumstance which gave it birth. "

Giotto was immediately invited to Rome by the Pope, who received himwith distinction, and commissioned him to paint a large picture in thesacristy of St. Peter's, with five others in the church, representingsubjects from the life of Christ, which gave so much satisfaction to thepontiff, that he commanded 600 gold ducats to be paid to the artist, "besides conferring on him so many favors, " says Vasari, "that there wastalk of them throughout Italy. "

GIOTTO'S LIVING MODEL. 

Giotto, about to paint a picture of the Crucifixion, induced a poor manto suffer himself to be bound to a cross, under the promise of being setat liberty in an hour, and handsomely rewarded for his pains. Instead ofthis, as soon as Giotto had made his victim secure, he seized a dagger, and, shocking to tell, stabbed him to the heart! He then set aboutpainting the dying agonies of the victim to his foul treachery. When hehad finished his picture, he carried it to the Pope; who was so wellpleased with it, that he resolved to place it above the altar of his ownchapel. Giotto observed, that, as his holiness liked the copy so well, he might perhaps like to see the original. The Pope, shocked at theimpiety of the idea, uttered an exclamation of surprise. "I mean, " addedGiotto, "I will show you the person whom I employed as my model in thispicture, but it must be on condition that your holiness will absolve mefrom all punishment for the use which I have made of him. " The Popepromised Giotto the absolution for which he stipulated, and accompaniedthe artist to his workshop. On entering, Giotto drew aside a curtainwhich hung before the dead man, still stretched on the cross, andcovered with blood. 

The barbarous exhibition struck the pontiff with horror; he told Giottohe could never give him absolution for so cruel a deed, and that he mustexpect to suffer the most exemplary punishment. Giotto, with seemingresignation, said that he had only one favor to ask, that his holinesswould give him leave to finish the piece before he died. The request hadtoo important an object to be denied; the Pope readily granted it; and, in the meantime, a guard was set over Giotto to prevent his escape. 

On the painting being replaced in the artist's hands, the first thing hedid was to take a brush, and, dipping it into a thick varnish, he daubedthe picture all over with it, and then announced that he had finishedhis task. His holiness was greatly incensed at this abuse of theindulgence he had given, and threatened Giotto that he should be put tothe most cruel death, unless he painted another picture equal to the onewhich he had destroyed. "Of what avail is your threat, " replied Giotto, "to a man whom you have doomed to death at any rate?" "But, " replied hisholiness, "I can revoke that doom. " "Yes, " continued Giotto, "but youcannot prevail on me to trust to your verbal promise a second time. ""You shall have a pardon under my signet before you begin. " On that, aconditional pardon was accordingly made out and given to Giotto, who, taking a wet sponge, in a few minutes wiped off the coating with whichhe had bedaubed the picture, and instead of a copy, restored theoriginal in all its beauty to his holiness. Although this story isrelated by many writers, it is doubtless a gross libel on the fair fameof this great artist, originating with some witless wag, who thoughtnothing too horrible to impose upon the credulity of mankind. It isdiscredited by the best authors. A similar fable is related ofParrhasius. See the Olynthian Captive, vol. I. Page 151 of this work. 

GIOTTO AND THE KING OF NAPLES. 

After Giotto's return to Florence, about 1325, Robert, King of Naples, wrote to his son Charles, King of Calabria, who was then in Florence, desiring that he would by all means send Giotto to him at Naples, todecorate the church and convent of Santa Clara, which he had justcompleted, and desired to have adorned with noble paintings. Giottoreadily accepted this flattering invitation from so great and renowned amonarch, and immediately set out to do him service. He was received atNaples with every mark of distinction, and executed many subjects fromthe old and New Testaments in the different chapels of the building. Itis said that the pictures from the Apocalypse, which he painted in oneof the chapels, were the inventions of Dante; but Dante was then dead, and if Giotto derived any advantage from him, it must have been fromprevious discussions on the subject. These works gave the greatestsatisfaction to the King, who munificently rewarded the artist, andtreated him with great kindness and extraordinary familiarity. Vasarisays that Giotto was greatly beloved by King Robert, who delighted tovisit him in his painting room, to watch the progress of his work, tohear his remarks, and to hold conversation with him; for Giotto had aready wit, and was always as ready to amuse the monarch with his livelyconversation and witty replies as with his pencil. One day the King saidto him, "Giotto, I will make you the first man in Naples, " to whichGiotto promptly replied, "I am already the first man in Naples; for thisreason it is that I dwell at the Porta Reale. " At another time the King, fearing that he would injure himself by overworking in the hot season, said to him, "Giotto, if I were in your place, now that it is so hot, Iwould give up painting for a time, and take my rest. " "And so would Ido, certainly, " replied Giotto, "were I the King of Naples. " One day theKing to amuse himself, desired Giotto to _paint his kingdom_. Thepainter drew an ass carrying a packsaddle loaded with a crown andsceptre, while a similar saddle, also bearing the ensigns of royalty, lay at his feet; these last were all new, and the ass scented them, with an eager desire to change them for those he bore. "What does thissignify, Giotto?" enquired the King. "Such is thy kingdom, " repliedGiotto, "and such thy subjects, who are every day desiring a new lord. "

GIOTTO AND DANTE. 

The children of Giotto were remarkably ill-favored. Dante, one day, quizzed him by asking, "Giotto, how is it that you, who make thechildren of others so beautiful, make your own so ugly?" "Ah, my dearfriend, " replied the painter, "mine were made in the dark. "

DEATH OF GIOTTO. 

"Giotto, " says Vasari, "having passed his life in the production of somany admirable works, and proved himself a good Christian, as well as anexcellent painter, resigned his soul to God in the year 1336, not onlyto the great regret of his fellow citizens, but of all who had knownhim, or even heard his name. He was honorably entombed, as his highdeserts had well merited, having been beloved all his life, but moreespecially by the learned men of all professions. " Dante and Petrarchwere his warm admirers, and immortalized him in their verse. Thecommentator of Dante, who was cotemporary with Giotto, says, "Giottowas, and is, the most eminent of all the painters of Florence, and tothis his works bear testimony in Rome, Naples, Avignon, Florence, Padua, and many other parts of the world. "

BUONAMICO BUFFALMACCO. 

The first worthy successor of Giotto in the Florentine school, wasBuffalmacco, whose name has been immortalized by Boccaccio in his_Decameron_, as a man of most facetious character. He executed manyworks in fresco and distemper, but they have mostly perished. He chieflyexcelled in Crucifixions and Ascensions. He was born, according toVasari, in 1262, and died in 1340, aged 78; but Baldinucci says that helived later than 1358. His name is mentioned in the old Book of theCompany of Painters, under the date of 1351, (_Editors of the Florentineedition of Vasari_, 1846. ). Buffalmacco was a merry wag, and a carelessspendthrift, and died in the public hospital. 

BUFFALMACCO AND HIS MASTER. 

"Among the Three Hundred Stories of Franco Saccheti, " says Vasari, "wefind it related to begin with, what our artist did in his youth--thatwhen Buffalmacco was studying with Andrea Tafi, his master had the habitof rising before daylight when the nights were long, compelling hisscholars also to awake and proceed to their work. This provokedBuonamico, who did not approve of being aroused from his sweetestsleep. He accordingly bethought himself of finding some means by whichAndrea might be prevented from rising so early, and soon found what hesought. " Now it happened that Tafi was a very superstitious man, believing that demons and hobgoblins walked the earth at their pleasure. Buffalmacco, having caught about thirty large beetles, he fastened tothe back of each, by means of small needles, a minute taper, which helighted, and sent them one by one into his master's room, through acrack in the door, about the time he was accustomed to rise and summonhim to his labors. Tafi seeing these strange lights wandering about hisroom, began to tremble with fright, and repeated his prayers andexorcisms, but finding they produced no effect on the apparitions, hecovered his head with the bed clothes, and lay almost petrified withterror till daylight. When he rose he enquired of Buonamico, if "he hadseen more than a thousand demons wandering about his room, as he hadhimself in the night?" Buonamico replied that he had seen nothing, andwondered he had not been called to work. "Call thee to work!" exclaimedthe master, "I had other things to think of besides painting, and amresolved to stay in this house no longer;" and away he ran to consultthe parish priest, who seems to have been as superstitious as the poorpainter himself. When Tafi discoursed of this strange affair withBuonamico, the latter told him that he had been taught to believe thatthe demons were the greatest enemies of God, consequently they must bethe most deadly adversaries of painters. "For, " said he, "besides thatwe always make them most hideous, we think of nothing but paintingsaints, both men and women, on walls and pictures, which is much worse, since we thereby render men better and more devout to the great despiteof the demons; and for all this, the devils being angry with us, andhaving more power by night than by day, they play these tricks upon us. I verily believe too, that they will get worse and worse, if thispractice of rising to work in the night be not discontinued altogether. "Buffalmacco then advised his master to make the experiment, and seewhether the devils would disturb him if he did not work at night. Tafifollowed this advice for a short time, and the demons ceased to disturbhim; but forgetting his fright, he began to rise betimes, as before, andto call Buffalmacco to his work. The beetles then recommenced theirwanderings, till Tafi was compelled by his fears and the earnest adviceof the priest to desist altogether from that practice. "Nay, " saysVasari, "the story becoming known through the city, produced such aneffect that neither Tafi, nor any other painter dared for a long time towork at night. "

Another laughable story is related of Buffalmacco's ingenuity to ridhimself of annoyance. Soon after he left Tafi, he took apartmentsadjoining those occupied by a man who was a penurious old simpleton, and compelled his wife to rise long before daylight to commence work ather spinning wheel. The old woman was often at her wheel, when Buonamicoretired to bed from his revels. The buzz of the instrument put all sleepout of the question; so the painter resolved to put a stop to thisannoyance. Having provided himself with a long tube, and removed a bricknext to the chimney, he watched his opportunity, and blew salt intotheir soup till it was spoiled. He then succeeded in making them believethat it was the work of demons, and to desist from such early rising. Whenever the old woman touched her wheel before daylight, the soup wassure to be spoiled, but when she was allowed reasonable rest, it wasfresh and savory. 

BUFFALMACCO AND THE NUNS OF THE CONVENT OF FAENZA. 

Soon after Buffalmacco left his master, he was employed by the nuns ofFaenza to execute a picture for their convent. The subject was theslaughter of the Innocents. While the work was in progress, those ladiessome times took a peep at the picture through the screen he had raisedfor its protection. "Now Buffalmacco, " says Vasari, "was very eccentricand peculiar in his dress, as well as manner of living, and as he didnot always wear the head-dress and mantle usual at the time, the nunsremarked to their intendant, that it did not please them to see himappear thus in his doublet; but the steward found means to pacify them, and they remained silent on the subject for some time. At length, however, seeing the painter always accoutred in like manner, andfancying that he must be some apprentice, who ought to be merelygrinding colors, they sent a messenger to Buonamico from the abbess, tothe effect, that they would like to see the master sometimes at thework, and not always himself. To this Buffalmacco, who was very pleasantin manner, replied, that as soon as the master came to the work he wouldlet them know of his arrival; for he perceived clearly how the matterstood. Thereupon, he placed two stools, one on the other, with awater-jar on the top; on the neck of the jar he set a cap, which wassupported by the handle; he then arranged a long mantle carefully aroundthe whole, and securing a pencil within the mouth, on that side of thejar whence the water is poured, he departed. The nuns, returning toexamine the work through the hole which they had made in the screen, sawthe supposed master in full robes, when, believing him to be workingwith all his might, and that he would produce a very different kind ofthing from any that his predecessor in the jacket could accomplish, theywent away contented, and thought no more of the matter for some days. Atlength, they were desirous of seeing what fine things the master haddone, and at the end of a fortnight (during which Buffalmacco had neverset foot within the place), they went by night, when they concluded thathe would not be there, to see his work. But they were all confused andashamed, when one, bolder than the rest, approached near enough todiscover the truth respecting this solemn master, who for fifteen dayshad been so busy doing nothing. They acknowledged, nevertheless, thatthey had got but what they merited--the work executed by the painter inthe jacket being all that could be desired. The intendant was thereforecommanded to recall Buonamico, who returned in great glee and with manya laugh, to his labor, having taught these good ladies the differencebetween a man and a water-jug, and shown them that they should notalways judge the works of men by their vestments. "

BUFFALMACCO AND THE NUNS' WINE. 

Buffalmacco executed an historical painting for the nuns, which greatlypleased them, every part being excellent in their estimation, except thefaces, which they thought too pale and wan. Buonamico, knowing that theykept the very best Vernaccia (a kind of delicious Tuscan wine, kept forthe uses of the mass) to be found in Florence, told his fair patrons, that this defect could only be remedied by mixing the colors with goodVernaccia, but that when the cheeks were touched with colors thustempered, they would become rosy and life-like enough. "The goodladies, " says Vasari, "believing all he said, kept him supplied withthe very best Vernaccia during all the time that his labors lasted, andhe joyously swallowing this delicious nectar, found color enough on hispalette to give his faces the fresh rosiness they so much desired. "Bottari says, that Buonamico, on one occasion, was surprised by thenuns, while drinking the Vernaccia, when he instantly spirted what hehad in his mouth on the picture, whereby they were fully satisfied; ifthey cut short his supply, his pictures looked pale and lifeless, butthe Vernaccia always restored them to warmth and beauty. The nuns wereso much pleased with his performances that they employed him a longtime, and he decorated their whole church with his own hand, representing subjects from the life of Christ, all extremely wellexecuted. 

BUFFALMACCO, BISHOP GUIDO, AND HIS MONKEY. 

"In the year 1302, " says Vasari, "Buffalmacco was invited to Assisi, where, in the church of San Francesco, he painted in fresco the chapelof Santa Caterina, with stories taken from her life. These paintings arestill preserved, and many figures in them are well worthy of praise. Having finished this chapel, Buonamico was passing through Arezzo, whenhe was detained by the Bishop Guido, who had heard that he was acheerful companion, as well as a good painter, and who wished him toremain for a time in that city, to paint the chapel of the episcopalchurch, where the baptistery now is. Buonamico began the work, and hadalready completed the greater part of it, when a very curiouscircumstance occurred; and this, according to Franco Sacchetti, whorelates it among his Three Hundred Stories, was as follows. The bishophad a large ape, of extraordinary cunning, the most sportive andmischievous creature in the world. This animal sometimes stood on thescaffold, watching Buonamico at his work, and giving a grave attentionto every action: with his eyes constantly fixed on the painter, heobserved him mingle his colors, handle the various flasks and tools, beat the eggs for his paintings in distemper--all that he did, in short;for nothing escaped the creature's observation. One Saturday evening, Buffalmacco left his work; and on the Sunday morning, the ape, althoughfastened to a great log of wood, which the bishop had commanded hisservants to fix to his foot, that he might not leap about at hispleasure, contrived, in despite of the weight, which was considerable, to get on the scaffold where Buonamico was accustomed to work. Here hefell at once upon the vases which held the colors, mingled them alltogether, beat up whatever eggs he could find, and, plunging the pencilsinto this mixture, he daubed over every figure, and did not cease tillhe had repainted the whole work with his own hand. Having done that, hemixed all the remaining colors together, and getting down from thescaffold, he went his way. When Monday morning came, Buffalmaccoreturned to his work; and, finding his figures ruined, his vessels allheaped together, and every thing turned topsy-turvy, he stood amazed insore confusion. Finally, having considered the matter within himself, hearrived at the conclusion that some Aretine, moved by jealousy, or othercause, had worked the mischief he beheld. Proceeding to the bishop, herelated what had happened, and declared his suspicions, by all whichthat prelate was greatly disturbed; but, consoling Buonamico as best hecould, he persuaded him to return to his labors, and repair themischief. Bishop Guido, thinking him nevertheless likely to be right, his opinion being a very probable one, gave him six soldiers, who wereordered to remain concealed on the watch, with drawn weapons, during themaster's absence, and were commanded to cut down any one, who might becaught in the act, without mercy. The figures were again completed in acertain time; and one day as the soldiers were on guard, they heard astrange kind of rolling sound in the church, and immediately after sawthe ape clamber up to the scaffold and seize the pencils. In thetwinkling of an eye, the new master had mingled his colors; and thesoldiers saw him set to work on the saints of Buonamico. They thensummoned the artist, and showing him the malefactor, they all stoodwatching the animal at his operations, being in danger of fainting withlaughter, Buonamico more than all; for, though exceedingly disturbed bywhat had happened, he could not help laughing till the tears ran downhis cheeks. At length he betook himself to the bishop, and said: 'Mylord, you desire to have your chapel painted in one fashion, but yourape chooses to have it done in another. ' Then, relating the story, headded: 'There was no need whatever for your lordship to send to foreignparts for a painter, since you had the master in your house; but perhapshe did not know exactly how to mix the colors; however, as he is nowacquainted with the method, he can proceed without further help; I am nolonger required here, since we have discovered his talents, and will askno other reward for my labors, but your permission to return toFlorence. ' Hearing all this, the bishop, although heartily vexed, couldnot restrain his laughter; and the rather, as he remembered that he whowas thus tricked by an ape, was himself the most incorrigible tricksterin the world. However, when they had talked and laughed over this newoccurrence to their hearts' content, the bishop persuaded Buonamico toremain; and the painter agreed to set himself to work for the thirdtime, when the chapel was happily completed. But the ape, for hispunishment, and in expiation of the crimes he had committed, was shut upin a strong wooden cage, and fastened on the platform where Buonamicoworked; there he was kept till the whole was finished; and noimagination could conceive the leaps and flings of the creature thusenclosed in his cage, nor the contortions he made with his feet, hands, muzzle, and whole body, at the sight of others working, while he was notpermitted to do anything. "

BUFFALMACCO'S TRICK ON THE BISHOP OF AREZZO. 

"When the works of the chapel before mentioned, were completed, thebishop ordered Buonamico--either for a jest, or for some other cause--topaint, on one of the walls of his palace, an eagle on the back of alion, which the bird had killed. The crafty painter, having promised todo all that the bishop desired, caused a stout scaffolding and screen ofwood-work to be made before the building, saying that he could not beseen to paint such a thing. Thus prepared, and shut up alone within hisscreen, Buonamico painted the direct contrary of what the bishop hadrequired--a lion, namely, tearing an eagle to pieces; and, havingpainted the picture, he requested permission from the bishop to repairto Florence, for the purpose of seeking certain colors needful to hiswork. He then locked up the scaffold, and departed to Florence, resolving to return no more to the bishop. But the latter, after waitingsome time, and finding that the painter did not reappear, caused thescaffolding to be taken down, and discovered that Buonamico had beenmaking a jest of him. Furious at this affront, Guido condemned theartist to banishment for life from his dominions; which, when Buonamicolearnt, he sent word to the bishop that he might do his worst, whereupon the bishop threatened him with fearful consequences. Yetconsidering afterwards that he had been tricked, only because he hadintended to put an affront upon the painter, Bishop Guido forgave him, and even rewarded him liberally for his labors. Nay, Buffalmacco wasagain invited to Arezzo, no long time after, by the same prelate, whoalways treated him as a valued servant and familiar friend, confidingmany works in the old cathedral to his care, all of which, unhappily, are now destroyed. Buonamico also painted the apsis of the principalchapel in the church of San Giustino in Arezzo. "

In the notes of the Roman and other earlier editions of Vasari, we aretold that the lion being the insignia of Florence, and the eagle, thatof Arezzo, the bishop designed to assert his own superiority over theformer city, he being lord of Arezzo; but later commentators affirm, that Guido, being a furious Ghibelline, intended rather to offer anaffront to the Guelfs, by exalting the eagle, which was the emblem ofhis party, over the lion, that of the Guelfs. 

ORIGIN OF LABEL PAINTING. 

Buffalmacco is generally considered the inventor of label painting, orthe use of a label drawn from the mouth to represent it speaking; but itwas practiced by Cimabue, and probably long before his time, in Italy. Pliny tells us that it was practiced by the early Greek painters. Vasari says that Buffalmacco was invited to Pisa, where he painted manypictures in the Abbey of St. Paul, on the banks of the Arno, which thenbelonged to the monks of Vallambrosa. He covered the entire surface ofthe church, from the roof to the floor, with histories from the OldTestament, beginning with the creation of man and continuing to thebuilding of the Tower of Babel. In the church of St. Anastasia, he alsopainted certain stories from the life of that saint, "in which, " saysVasari, "are very many beautiful costumes and head-dresses of women, painted with a charming grace of manner. " Bruno de Giovanni, the friendand pupil of Buonamico, was associated with him in this work. He too, iscelebrated by Boccaccio, as a man of joyous memory. When the stories onthe façade were finished, Bruno painted in the same church, analtar-piece of St. Ursula, with her company of virgins. In one hand ofthe saint, he placed a standard bearing the arms of Pisa--a white crosson a field of red; the other is extended towards a woman, who, climbingbetween two rocks, has one foot in the sea, and stretches out both handstowards the saint, in the act of supplication. This female formrepresents Pisa. She bears a golden horn upon her head, and wears amantle sprinkled over with circlets and eagles. Being hard pressed bythe waves, she earnestly implores succor of the saint. 

While employed on this work, Bruno complained that his faces had notthe life and expression which distinguished those of Buonamico, when thelatter, in his playful manner, advised him to paint words proceedingfrom the mouth of the woman supplicating the saint, and in like mannerthose proceeding from the saint in reply. "This, " said the wag, "willmake your figures not only life-like, but even eloquently expressive. "Bruno followed this advice; "And this method, " says Vasari, "as itpleased Bruno and other dull people of that day, so does it equallysatisfy certain simpletons of our own, who are well served by artists ascommonplace as themselves. It must, in truth, be allowed to be anextraordinary thing that a practice thus originating in jest, and in noother way, should have passed into general use; insomuch that even agreat part of the Campo Santo, decorated by much esteemed masters, isfull of this absurdity. " This picture is now in the Academy of the FineArts at Pisa. 

UTILITY OF ANCIENT WORKS. 

The works of Buffalmacco greatly pleased the good people of Pisa, whogave him abundant employment; yet he and his boon companion Bruno, merrily squandered all they had earned, and returned to Florence, aspoor as when they left that city. Here they also found plenty of work. They decorated the church of S. Maria Novella with several productionswhich were much applauded, particularly the Martyrdom of St. Mauriceand his companions, who were decapitated for their adherence to thefaith of Christ. The picture was designed by Buonamico, and painted byBruno, who had no great power of invention or design. It was painted forGuido Campere, then constable of Florence, whose portrait was introducedas St. Maurice. --The martyrs are led to execution by a troop ofsoldiers, armed in the ancient manner, and presenting a very finespectacle. "This picture, " says Vasari, "can scarcely be called a veryfine one, but it is nevertheless worthy of consideration as well for thedesign and invention of Buffalmacco, as for the variety of vestments, helmets, and other armor used in those times; and from which I havemyself derived great assistance in certain historical paintings, executed for our lord, the Duke Cosmo, wherein it was necessary torepresent men armed in the ancient manner, with other accessoriesbelonging to that period; and his illustrious excellency, as well as allelse who have seen these works, have been greatly pleased with them;whence we may infer the valuable assistance to be obtained from theinventions and performances of the old master, and the mode in whichgreat advantages may be derived from them, even though they may not bealtogether perfect; for it is these artists who have opened the path tous, and led the way to all the wonders performed down to the presenttime, and still being performed even in these of our days. "

BUFFALMACCO AND THE COUNTRYMAN. 

While Buonamico was employed at Florence, a countryman came and engagedhim to paint a picture of St. Christopher for his parish church; thecontract was, that the figure should be twelve braccia in length, [B] andthe price eight florins. But when the painter proceeded to look at thechurch for which the picture was ordered, he found it but nine bracciahigh, and the same in length; therefore, as he was unable to paint thesaint in an upright position he represented him reclining, bent the legsat the knees, and turned them up against the opposite wall. When thework was completed, the countryman declared that he had been cheated, and refused to pay for it. The matter was then referred to theauthorities, who decided that Buffalmacco had performed his contract, and ordered the stipulated payment to be made. 

[Footnote B: The braccio, (arm, cubit) is an Italian measure whichvaries in length, not only in different parts of Italy, but alsoaccording to the thing measured. In Parma, for example, the braccio formeasuring silk is 23 inches, for woolens and cottons 25 and a fraction, while that for roads and buildings is 21 only. In Siena, the braccio forcloth is 14 inches, while in Florence it is 23, and in Milan it is 39inches, English measure. ]

The writer of these pages, in his intercourse with artists, has met withincidents as comical as that just related of Buonamico. Some artistsproceed to paint without having previously designed, or even sketchedout their subject on the canvass. We know an artist, who painted a fancyportrait of a child, in a landscape, reclining on a bank beside astream; but when he had executed the landscape, and the greater part ofthe figure, he found he had not room in his canvass to get the feet in;so he turned the legs up in such a manner, as to give the child theappearance of being in great danger of sliding into the water. Wegreatly offended the painter by advising him to drive a couple of stakesinto the bank to prevent such a catastrophe. Another artist, engaged inpainting a full-length portrait, found, when he had got his picturenearly finished, that his canvass was at least four inches too short. "What shall I do, " said the painter to a friend, "I have not room forthe feet. " "Cover them up with green grass, " was the reply. "But mybackground represents an interior. " "Well, hay will do as well. ""Confound your jokes; a barn is a fine place to be sure for finecarpets, fine furniture, and a fine gentleman. I'll tell you what I'lldo; I'll place one foot on this stool, and hide the other beneath thischair. " He did so, but the figure looked all body and no legs, and thesitter refused to take the portrait. 

BUFFALMACCO AND THE PEOPLE OF PERUGIA. 

The Perugians engaged Buonamico to decorate their market-place with apicture of the patron saint of the city. Having erected an enclosure ofplanks and matting, that he might not be disturbed in his labors, thepainter commenced his operations. Ten days had scarcely elapsed beforeevery one who passed by enquired with eager curiosity, "when the picturewould be finished?" as though they thought such works could be cast in amould. Buffalmacco, wearied and disgusted at their impatient outcries, resolved on a bit of revenge. Therefore, keeping the work stillenclosed, he admitted the Perugians to examine it, and when theydeclared themselves satisfied and delighted with the performance, andwished to remove the planks and matting, Buonamico requested that theywould permit them to remain two days longer as he wished to retouchcertain parts when the painting was fully dry. This was agreed to; andBuonamico instantly mounting his scaffold, removed the great gilt diademfrom the head of the saint, and replaced it with a coronet of gudgeons. This accomplished, he paid his host, and set off to Florence. 

Two days having past, and the Perugians not seeing the painter goingabout as they were accustomed to do, inquired of his host what hadbecome of him, and learning that he had left the city, they hastened toremove the screen that concealed the picture, when they discovered theirsaint solemnly crowned with gudgeons. Their rage now knew no bounds, andthey instantly despatched horsemen in pursuit of Buonamico, --but invain--the painter having found shelter in Florence. They then set anartist of their own to remove the crown of fishes and replace the gildeddiadem, consoling themselves for the affront, by hurling maledictions atthe head of Buonamico and every other Florentine. 

BUFFALMACCO'S NOVEL METHOD OF ENFORCING PAYMENT. 

Buffalmacco painted a fresco at Calcinaia, representing the Virgin withthe Child in her arms. But the man for whom it was executed, only madefair promises in place of payment. Buonamico was not a man to be trifledwith or made a tool of; therefore, he repaired early one morning toCalcinaia, and turned the child in the arms of the Holy Virgin into ayoung bear. The change being soon discovered, caused the greatestscandal, and the poor countryman for whom it was painted, hastened tothe painter, and implored him to remove the cub and replace the child asbefore, declaring himself ready to pay all demands. This Buonamicoagreed to do on being paid for the first and second painting, which lastwas only in water colors, when with a wet sponge, he immediatelyrestored the picture to its peristine beauty. The Editors of theFlorentine edition of Vasari, (1846) say that "in a room of the prioryof Calcinaia, are still to be seen the remains of a picture on thewalls, representing the Madonna with the Child in her arms, and othersaints, evidently a work of the 14th century; and a tradition preservedto this day, declares that painting to be the one alluded to by ourauthor. "

STEFANO FIORENTINO. 

This old Florentine painter was born in 1301. He was the grandson anddisciple of Giotto, whom, according to Vasari, he greatly excelled inevery department of art. From his close imitations of nature, he wascalled by his fellow citizens, "Stefano the Ape, " (ape of nature. ) Hewas the first artist who attempted to show the naked under hisdraperies, which were loose, easy, and delicate. He established therules of perspective, little known at that early period, on morescientific principles. He was the first who attempted the difficult taskof foreshortening. He also succeeded better than any of hiscotemporaries in giving expression to his heads, and a less Gothic turnto his figures. He acquired a high reputation, and executed many works, in fresco and distemper, for the churches and public edifices ofFlorence, Rome, and other cities, all of which have perished, accordingto Lanzi, except a picture of the Virgin and Infant Christ in the CampoSanto at Pisa. He died in 1350. 

GIOTTINO. 

Tommaso Stefano, called II Giottino, the son and scholar of StefanoFiorentino, was born at Florence in 1324. According to Vasari, headhered so closely to the style of Giotto, that the good people ofFlorence called him Giottino, and averred that the soul of his greatancestor had transmigrated and animated him. There are some frescoes byhim, still preserved at Assissi, and a Dead Christ with the Virgin andSt. John, in the church of S. Remigio at Florence, which so stronglypartake of the manner of Giotto as to justify the name bestowed upon himby his fellow citizens. He died in the flower of his life at Florence in1356. 

PAOLO UCCELLO. 

This old painter was born at Florence in 1349, and was a disciple ofAntonio Veneziano. His name was Mazzocchi, but being very celebrated asa painter of animals, and especially so of birds, of which last heformed a large collection of the most curious, he was called Uccello(bird). He was one of the first painters who cultivated perspective. Before his time buildings had not a true point of perspective, andfigures appeared sometimes as if falling or slipping off the canvass. Hemade this branch so much his hobby, that he neglected other essentialparts of the art. To improve himself he studied geometry with GiovanniManetti, a celebrated mathematician. He acquired great distinction inhis time and some of his works still remain in the churches and conventsof Florence. In the church of S. Maria Novella are several frescohistories from the Old Testament, which he selected for the purpose ofintroducing a multitude of his favorite objects, beasts and birds; amongthem, are Adam and Eve in Paradise, Noah entering the Ark, the Deluge, &c. He painted battles of lions, tigers, serpents, &c, with peasantsflying in terror from the scene of combat. He also painted landscapeswith figures, cattle and ruins, possessing so much truth and nature, that Lanzi says "he may be justly called the Bassano of his age. " He wasliving in 1436. Vasari places his birth in 1396-7, and his death in1479, but later writers have proved his dates to be altogethererroneous. 

UCCELLO'S ENTHUSIASM. 

"Paolo Uccello employed himself perpetually and without anyintermission, " says Vasari, "in the consideration of the most difficultquestions connected with art, insomuch that he brought the method ofpreparing the plans and elevations of buildings, by the study of linearperspective, to perfection. From the ground plan to the cornice, andsummit of the roof, he reduced all to strict rules, by the convergenceof intersecting lines, which he diminished towards the centre, afterhaving fixed the point of view higher or lower, as seemed good to him;he labored, in short, so earnestly in these difficult matters that hefound means, and fixed rules, for making his figures really to seemstanding on the plane whereon they were placed; not only showing how inorder manifestly to draw back or retire, they must gradually bediminished, but also giving the precise manner and degree required forthis, which had previously been done by chance, or effected at thediscretion of the artist, as he best could. He also discovered themethod of turning the arches and cross-vaulting of ceilings, taught howfloors are to be foreshortened by the convergence of the beams; showedhow the artist must proceed to represent the columns bending round thesharp corners of a building, so that when drawn in perspective, theyefface the angle and cause it to seem level. To pore over all thesematters, Paolo would remain alone, almost like a hermit, shut up in hishouse for weeks and months without suffering himself to be approached. "

UCCELLO AND THE MONKS OF SAN MINIATO. 

Uccello was employed to decorate one of the cloisters of the monasteryof San Miniato, situated without the city of Florence, with subjectsfrom the lives of the Holy Fathers. While he was engaged on these works, the monks gave him scarcely anything to eat but cheese, of which thepainter soon became tired, and being shy and timid, he resolved to go nomore to work in the cloister. The prior sent to enquire the cause of hisabsence, but when Paolo heard the monks asking for him, he would neverbe at home, and if he chanced to meet any of the brothers of that orderin the street, he gave them a wide berth. This extraordinary conductexcited the curiosity of the monks to such a degree that one day, two ofthe brothers, more swift of foot than the rest, gave chase to Paolo, andhaving, cornered him, demanded why he did not come to finish the workaccording to his agreement, and wherefore he fled at the sight of one oftheir body. "Faith, " replied the painter, "you have so murdered me, thatI not only run away from you, but dare not stop near the house of anyjoiner, or even pass by one; and all this owing to the bad management ofyour abbot; for, what with his cheese-pies, and cheese-soup, he has mademe swallow such a mountain of cheese, that I am all turned into cheesemyself, and tremble lest the carpenters should seize me, to make theirglue of me; of a certainty had I stayed any longer with you, I should beno more Paolo, but a huge lump of cheese. " The monks, bursting withlaughter, went their way, and told the story to their abbot, who atlength prevailed on Uccello to return to his work on condition that hewould order him no more dishes made of cheese. 

UCCELLO'S FIVE PORTRAITS. 

Uccello was a man of very eccentric character and peculiar habits; buthe was a great lover of art, and applauded those who excelled in any ofits branches. He painted the portraits of five distinguished men, inone oblong picture, that he might preserve their memory and features toposterity. He kept it in his own house, as a memorial of them, as longas he lived. In the time of Vasari, it was in the possession of Giulianoda Sangallo. At the present day, (Editor's Florentine edition of Vasari, 1846) all trace of this remarkable picture is lost. The first of theseportraits was that of the painter Giotto, as one who had given new lightand life to art; the second, Fillippo Brunelleschi, distinguished forarchitecture; the third, Donatello, eminent for sculpture; the fourth, Uccello himself, for perspective and animals; and the fifth was hisfriend Giovanni Manetti, for the mathematics. 

UCCELLO'S INCREDULITY OF ST. THOMAS. 

It is related, says Vasari, of this master, that being commissioned topaint a picture of St. Thomas seeking the wound in the side of Christ, above the door of the church dedicated to that saint, in the MercatoVecchio, he declared that he would make known in that work, the extentof what he had acquired and was capable of producing. He accordinglybestowed upon it the utmost care and consideration, and erected anenclosure around the place that he might not be disturbed until itshould be completed. One day, his friend Donatello met him, and askedhim, "What kind of work is this of thine, that thou art shutting up soclosely?" Paolo replied, "Thou shalt see it some day; let that sufficethee. " Donatello would not press him, thinking that when the time came, he should, as usual, behold a miracle of art. It happened one morning, as he was in the Mercato Vecchio, buying fruit, he saw Paolo uncoveringhis picture, and saluting him courteously, the latter anxiously demandedwhat he thought of his work. Donatello having examined the painting veryclosely, turned to the painter with a disappointed look, and said, "Why, Paolo, thou art uncovering thy picture at the very moment when thoushouldst be shutting it up from the sight of all!" These words sogrievously afflicted the painter, who at once perceived that he would bemore likely to incur derision from his boasted master-piece, than thehonor he had hoped for, that he hastened home and shut himself up, devoting himself to the study of perspective, which, says Vasari, kepthim in poverty and depression till the day of his death. If this storybe true, Uccello must have painted the picture referred to in his oldage. 

THE ITALIAN SCHOOLS OF PAINTING. 

The fame and success of Cimabue and Giotto, brought forth painters inabundance, and created schools all over Italy. The church increasing inpower and riches, called on the arts of painting and sculpture, to addto the beauty and magnificence of her sanctuaries; riches and honorswere showered on men whose genius added a new ray of grace to theMadonna, or conferred a diviner air on St. Peter or St. Paul; and asmuch of the wealth of Christendom found its way to Rome, the successorsof the apostles were enabled to distribute their patronage over all theschools of Italy. Lanzi reckons fourteen schools of painting in Italy, each of which is distinguished by some peculiar characteristics, asfollows: 1, the Florentine school; 2, the Sienese school; 3, the Romanschool; 4, the Neapolitan school; 5, the Venetian school; 6, the Mantuanschool; 7, the Modenese school; 8, the school of Parma; 9, the school ofCremona; 10, the school of Milan; 11, the school of Bologna; 12, theschool of Ferrara; 13, the school of Genoa; 14, the school of Piedmont. Of these, the Florentine, the Roman, and the Bolognese are celebratedfor their epic grandeur of composition; that of Siena for its poetictaste; that of Naples for its fire; and that of Venice for the splendorof its coloring. 

Other writers make different divisions, according to style or country;thus, Correggio, being by birth a Lombard, and the originator of a newstyle, the name of the Lombard school has been conferred by many uponthe followers of his maxims, the characteristics of which are contoursdrawn round and full, the countenances warm and smiling, the union ofthe colors clear and strong, and the foreshortenings frequent, with aparticular attention to the chiaro-scuro. Others again, rank the artistsof Milan, Mantua Parma, Modena, and Cremona, under the one head of theLombard school; but Lanzi justly makes the distinctions beforementioned, because their manners are very different. Writers of othernations rank all these subdivisions under one head--the Italian school. Lanzi again divides these schools into epochs, as they rose from theirinfancy, to their greatest perfection, and again declined intomannerism, or servile imitation, or as eminent artists rose who formedan era in art. Thus writers speak of the schools of Lionardo da Vinci, of Michael Angelo, of Raffaelle, of Correggio, of Titian, of theCaracci, and of every artist who acquired a distinguished reputation, and had many followers. Several great artists formed such a marked erain their schools, that their names and those of their schools are oftenused synonymously by many writers; thus, when they speak of the Romanschool, they mean that of Raffaelle; of the Florentine, that of MichaelAngelo; of Parma or Lombardy, that of Correggio; of Bologna, that of theCaracci; but not so of the Venetian and Neapolitan schools, because theVenetian school produced several splendid colorists, and that of Naplesas many, distinguished by other peculiarities. These distinctions shouldbe borne in mind in order rightly to understand writers, especiallyforeigners, on Italian art. 

CLAUDE JOSEPH VERNET. 

Claude Joseph Vernet, the father of Carl Vernet, and the grandfather ofHorace, was born at Avignon in 1714. He was the son of Antoine Vernet, an obscure painter, who foretold that he would one day render his familyillustrious in art, and gave him every advantage that his limited meanswould permit. Such were the extraordinary talents he exhibited almost inhis infancy, that his father regarded him as a prodigy, and dreaming ofnothing but seeing him become the greatest historical painter of theage, he resolved to send him to Rome; and having, by great economy, saved a few louis d'or, he put them into Joseph's pocket, when he wasabout eighteen years of age, and sent him off with a wagoner, whoundertook to conduct him to Marseilles. 

VERNET'S PRECOCITY. 

The wonderful stories told about the early exhibitions of genius in manycelebrated painters are really true with respect to Joseph Vernet. Inhis infancy, he exhibited the most extraordinary passion for painting. He himself has related, that on his return from Italy, his mother gavehim some drawings which he had executed at the age of five years, whenhe was rewarded by being allowed to use the pencils he had tried topurloin. Before he was fifteen, he painted frieze-panels, fire-screens, coach-panels, sedan chair-panels, and the like, whenever he could get acommission; he also gave proof of that facility of conceiving andexecuting, which was one of the characteristics of his genius. 

VERNET'S ENTHUSIASM. 

It has been before stated that Vernet's father intended him for anhistorical painter, but nature formed his genius to imitate hersweetest, as well as most terrible aspect. When he was on his way toMarseilles, he met with so many charming prospects, that he induced hiscompanion to halt so often while he sketched them, that it took them amuch longer time to reach that port than it would otherwise have done. 

When he first saw the sea from the high hill, called La Viste, nearMarseilles, he stood wrapt in admiration. Before him stretched the bluewaters of the Mediterranean as far as the eye could reach, while threeislands, a few leagues from the shore, seemed to have been placed thereon purpose to break the uniformity of the immense expanse of waters, andto gratify the eye; on his right rose a sloping town of country houses, intersected with trees, rising above one another on successive terraces;on his left was the little harbor of Mastigues; in front, innumerablevessels rocked to and fro in the harbor of Marseilles, while the horizonwas terminated by the picturesque tower of Bouc, nearly lost, however, in the distance. This scene made a lasting impression on Vernet. Natureseemed not only to invite, but to woo him to paint marine subjects, andfrom that moment his vocation was decided on. Thus nature frequentlyinstructs men of genius, and leads them on in the true path toexcellence and renown. Like the Æolian harp, which waits for a breath ofair to produce a sound, so they frequently wait or strive in vain, tillnature strikes a sympathetic chord, that vibrates to the soul. ThusJoseph Vernet never thought of his forte till he first stood on LaViste; and after that, he was nothing but a painter of ships andharbors, and tranquil seas, till the day when lashed to the mast, hefirst beheld the wild sea in such rude commotion, as threatened toengulf the noble ship and all on board at every moment. Then his mindwas elevated to the grandeur of the scene; and he recollected foreverthe minutest incident of the occasion. 

"It was on going from Marseilles to Rome, " says one of his biographers, M. Pitra, "that Joseph Vernet, on seeing a tempest gathering, when theywere off the Island of Sardinia, was seized, not with terror, but withadmiration; in the midst of the general alarm, the painter seemed reallyto relish the peril; his only desire was to face the tempest, and to be, so to say, mixed up with it, in order that, some day or other, he mightastonish and frighten others by the terrible effects he would learn toproduce; his only fear was that he might lose the sight of a spectacleso new to him. He had himself lashed to the main mast, and while he wastossed about in every direction, saturated with seawater, and excited bythis hand-to-hand struggle with his model, he painted the tempest, noton his canvass, but in his memory, which never forgot anything. He sawand remembered all--clouds, waves, and rock, hues and colors, with themotion of the boats and the rocking of the ship, and the accidentallight which intersected a slate-colored sky that served as a ground tothe whiteness of the sea-foam. " But, according to D'Argenville andothers, this event occurred in 1752, when he was on his way to Paris, atthe invitation of Louis XV. Embarking at Leghorn in a small felucca, hesailed to Marseilles. A violent storm happened on the voyage, whichgreatly terrified some of the passengers, but Vernet, undaunted, andstruck with the grandeur of the scene, requested the sailors to lash himto the mast head, and there he remained, absorbed in admiration, andendeavoring to transfer to his sketch-book, a correct picture of thesublime scene with which he was surrounded. His grandson, Horace Vernet, painted an excellent picture of this scene, which was exhibited in theLouvre in 1816, and attracted a great deal of attention. 

VERNET AT ROME. 

Vernet arrived at Rome in 1732, and became the scholar of BernardinoFergioni, then a celebrated marine painter, but Lanzi says, "he wassoon eclipsed by Joseph Vernet, who had taken up his abode at Rome. "Entirely unknown in that metropolis of art, always swarming withartists, Vernet lived for several years in the greatest poverty, subsisting by the occasional sale of a drawing or picture at any pricehe could get. He even painted panels for coach builders, which weresubsequently sawed out and sold as works of great value. Fiorillorelates that he painted a superb marine for a suit of coarse clothes, which brought 5000 francs at the sale of M. De Julienne. Finding largepictures less saleable, he painted small ones, which he sold for twosequins a-piece, till a Cardinal, one day gave him four louis d'or for amarine. Yet his ardor and enthusiasm were unabated; on the contrary, hestudied with the greatest assiduity, striving to perfect himself in hisart, and feeling confident that his talents would ultimately command ajust reward. 

VERNET'S "ALPHABET OF TONES. "

It was the custom of Vernet to rise with the lark, and he often walkedforth before dawn and spent the whole day in wandering about thesurrounding country, to study the ever changing face of nature. Hewatched the various hues presented by the horizon at different hours ofthe day. He soon found that with all his powers of observation andpencil, great and impassioned as they were, he could not keep pace withthe rapidly changing and evanescent hues of the morning and evening sky. He began to despair of ever being able to represent on canvass themoving harmony of those pictures which nature required so little time toexecute in such perfection, and which so quickly passed away. At length, after long contemplating how he could best succeed in catching andtransferring these furtive tints to his canvass, bethought himself of acontrivance which he called his Alphabet of tones, and which isdescribed by Renou in his "Art de Peindre. "

The various characters of this alphabet are joined together, andcorrespond to an equal number of different tints; if Vernet saw the sunrise silvery and fresh, or set in the colors of crimson; or if he saw astorm approaching or disappearing, he opened his table and set down thegradations of the tones he admired, as quickly as he could write ten ortwelve letters on a piece of paper. After having thus noted down inshort hand, the beauties of the sky and the accidental effects ofnature, he returned to his studio, and endeavored to make stationary oncanvass the moving picture he had just been contemplating. Effects whichhad long disappeared were thus recomposed in all their charming harmonyto delight the eye of every lover of painting. 

VERNET AND THE CONNOISSEUR. 

Vernet relates, that he was once employed to paint a landscape, with acave, and St. Jerome in it; he accordingly painted the landscape, withSt. Jerome at the entrance of the cave. When he delivered the picture, the purchaser, who understood nothing of perspective, said, "thelandscape and the cave are well made, but St. Jerome is not _in_ thecave. " "I understand you, Sir, " replied Vernet, "I will alter it. " Hetherefore took the painting, and made the shade darker, so that thesaint seemed to sit farther in. The gentleman took the painting; but itagain appeared to him that the saint was not in the cave. Vernet thenwiped out the figure, and gave it to the gentleman, who seemed perfectlysatisfied. Whenever he saw strangers to whom he shewed the picture, hesaid, "Here you see a picture by Vernet, with St. Jerome in the cave. ""But we cannot see the saint, " replied the visitors. "Excuse me, gentlemen, " answered the possessor, "he is there; for _I_ have seen himstanding at the entrance, and afterwards farther back; and am thereforequite sure that he is in it. "

VERNET'S WORKS. 

Far from confining himself within the narrow limits of one branch of hisprofession, Vernet determined to take as wide a range as possible. AtRome, he made the acquaintance of Lucatelli, Pannini, and Solimene. Likethem, he studied the splendid ruins of the architecture of ancient Rome, and the noble landscapes of its environs, together with everyinteresting scene and object, especially the celebrated cascades ofTivoli. He paid particular attention to the proportions and attitudes ofhis figures, which were mostly those of fishermen and lazzaroni, as wellas to the picturesque appearance of their costume. Such love of natureand of art, such assiduous study of nature at different hours of theday, of the phenomena of light, and such profound study of the numerousaccessories essential to beauty and effect, made an excellent landscapepainter of Vernet, though his fame rests chiefly on the unrivalledexcellence of his marine subjects. Diderot remarks, that "though he wasundoubtedly inferior to Claude Lorraine in producing bold and luminouseffects, he was quite equal to that great painter in rendering theeffects of vapor, and superior to him in the invention of scenes, indesigning figures, and in the variety of his incidents. "

At a later period, Diderot compared his favorite painter to the Jupiterof Lucian, who, tired of listening to the lamentable cries of mankind, rose from table and exclaimed: 'Let it hail in Thrace!' and the treeswere immediately stripped of their leaves, the heaviest cut to pieces, and the thatch of the houses scattered before the wind: then he said, "Let the plague fall on Asia!" and the doors of the houses wereimmediately closed, the streets were deserted, and men shunned oneanother; and again he exclaimed: 'Let a volcano appear here!' and theearth immediately shook, the buildings were thrown down, the animalswere terrified, and the inhabitants fled into the surrounding country;and on his crying out: 'Let this place be visited with a death!' the oldhusbandman died of want at his door. Jupiter calls that governing theworld, but he was wrong. Vernet calls it painting pictures, and he isright. 

It was with reference to the twenty-five paintings exhibited by Vernet, in 1765, that Diderot penned the foregoing lines, which formed theperoration to an eloquent and lengthy eulogium, such as it rarely fallsto a painter to be the subject of. Among other things, the great criticthere says: "There is hardly a single one of his compositions which anypainter would have taken not less than two years to execute, howeverwell he might have employed his time. What incredible effects of lightdo we not behold in them! What magnificent skies! what water! whatordonnance! what prodigious variety in the scenes! Here, we see a childborne off on the shoulders of his father, after having been saved from awatery grave; while there, lies a woman dead upon the beach, with herforlorn and widowed husband weeping at her side. The sea roars, the windbowls, the thunder fills the air with its peals, and the pale andsombre glimmers of the lightning that shoots incessantly through thesky, illuminate and hide the scene in turn. It appears as if you heardthe sides of the ship crack, so natural does it look with its brokenmasts and lacerated sails; the persons on deck are stretching theirhands toward heaven, while others have thrown themselves into the sea. The latter are swept by the waves against the neighboring rocks, wheretheir blood mingles with the white foam of the raging billows. Some, too, are floating on the surface of the sea, some are about to sink, andsome are endeavoring to reach the shore, against which they will beinevitably dashed to pieces. The same variety of character, action, andexpression is observable among the spectators, some of whom are turningaside with a shudder, some are doing their utmost to assist the drowningpersons, while others remain motionless and are merely looking on. A fewpersons have made a fire beneath a rock, and are endeavoring to revive awoman, who is apparently expiring. But now turn your eyes, reader, towards another picture, and you will there see a calm, with all itscharms. The waters, which are tranquil, smooth, and cheerful-looking, insensibly lose their transparency as they extend further from thesight, while their surface gradually assumes a lighter tint, as theyroll from the shore to the horizon. The ships are motionless, and thesailors and passengers are whiling away the time in various amusements. If it is morning, what light vapors are seen rising all around! and howthey have refreshed and vivified every object they have fallen on! If itis evening, what a golden tint do the tops of the mountains assume! Howvarious, too, are the hues of the sky! And how gently do the clouds movealong, as they cast the reflection of their different colors into thesea! Go, reader, into the country, lift your eyes up towards the azurevault of heaven, observe well the phenomena you then see there, and youwill think that a large piece of the canvass lighted by the sun himselfhas been cut out and placed upon the easel of the artist: or form yourhand into a tube, so that, by looking through it, you will only be ableto see a limited space of the canvass painted by nature, and you will atonce fancy that you are gazing on one of Vernet's pictures which hasbeen taken from off his easel and placed in the sky. His nights, too, are as touching as his days are fine; while his ports are as fine as hisimaginative pieces are piquant. He is equally wonderful, whether heemploys his pencil to depict a subject of everyday life, or he abandonshimself completely to his imagination; and he is equallyincomprehensible, whether he employs the orb of day or the orb of night, natural or artificial lights, to light his pictures with: he is alwaysbold, harmonious, and staid, like those great poets whose judgmentbalances all things so well, that they are never either exaggerated orcold. His fabrics, edifices, costumes, actions, men and animals are alltrue. When near, he astonishes you, and, at a distance, he astonishesyou still more. "

VERNET'S PASSION FOR MUSIC

Vernet, notwithstanding he loved to depict the sea in its most convulsedand terrible aspects, was a perfect gentleman of the French school, whose manners were most amiable and engaging. What he most loved afterpainting was music. He had formed at Rome, an intimate friendship withPergolesi, the composer, who afterwards became so celebrated, and theylived almost continually together. Vernet placed a harpsichord in hisstudio for the express use of his friend, and while the painter, carriedaway by his imagination, put the waters of the mighty main intocommotion, or suspended persons on the towering waves, the gravecomposer sought, with the tips of his fingers, for the rudiments of hisimmortal melodies. It was thus that the melancholy stanzas of that _chefd'oeuvre_ of sadness and sorrow, the _Stabat-Mater_, were composed fora little convent in which one of Pergolesi's sisters resided. It seemsto one that while listening to this plaintive music, Vernet must havegiven a more mellow tint to his painting; and it was, perhaps, whileunder its influence, that he worked at his calms and moonlights, or, making a truce with the roaring billows of the sea, painted it tranquiland smooth, and represented on the shore nothing but motionlessfishermen, sailors seated between the carriages of two cannons, andwhiling away the time by relating their travels to one another, or elsestretched on the grass in so quiescent a state, that the spectatorhimself becomes motionless while gazing on them. 

Pergolesi died in the arms of Joseph Vernet, who could never after hearthe name of his friend pronounced, without being moved to tears. Hereligiously preserved the scraps of paper, on which he had seen themusic of the _Stabat-Mater_ dotted down before his eyes, and broughtthem with him to France in 1752, at which period he was sent for by theMarquis de Marigny, after an absence of twenty years. Vernet's love formusic procured Grétry a hearty welcome, when the young composer came toParis. Vernet discovered his talent, and predicted his success. Some ofGrétry's features, his delicate constitution, and, above all, several ofhis simple and expressive airs, reminded the painter of the immortal manto whom music owes so large a portion of its present importance; for itwas Pergolesi who first introduced in Italy the custom of paying suchstrict attention to the sense of the words and to the choice of theaccompaniments. 

VERNET'S OPINION OF HIS OWN MERITS. 

Though Vernet rose to great distinction, he was never fully appreciatedtill long after his decease. At the present day, he is placed in thefirst rank of marine painters, not only by his own countrymen, but byevery other nation. He himself pronounced judgment on his own merits, the justness of which, posterity has sanctioned. The sentence deservesto be preserved, for it is great. Comparing himself to the greatpainters, his rivals, he says, "If you ask me whether I painted skiesbetter than such and such an artist, I should answer 'no!' or figuresbetter than any one else, I should also say 'no!' or trees andlandscapes better than others, still I should answer 'no!' or fogs, water, and vapors better than others, my answer would ever be the samebut though _inferior to each of them in one branch of the art, I surpassthem in all the others_. "

CURIOUS LETTER OF VERNET. 

The Marquis de Marigny, like his sister, Madame de Pompadour, loved andprotected the arts. It was mainly through his influence that Vernet wasinvited to Paris in 1752, and commissioned to paint the sea-ports ofFrance. No one could have been found better fitted for the ungratefultask, which, though offering so few resources, required so muchknowledge. Thus imprisoned in official programme, Vernet must have feltill at ease, if we may judge from a letter which he wrote to the Marquisat a subsequent period, with respect to another order. Indeed, the truthof his remarks were verified in the very series just mentioned, whichare not considered among his happiest productions. The following is themain part of the letter referred to, dated May 6th, 1765:

 "I am not accustomed to make sketches for my pictures. My general practice is to compose on the canvass of the picture I am about to execute, and to paint it immediately, while my imagination is still warm with conception; the size, too, of my canvas tells me at once what I have to do, and makes me compose accordingly. I am sure, if I made a sketch beforehand, that I should not only not put in it what might be in the picture, but that I should also throw into it all the fire I possess, and the larger picture would, in consequence, become cold. This would also be making a sort of copy, which it would annoy me to do. Thus, sir, after thoroughly weighing and examining everything, I think it best _that I should be left free to act as I like_. This is what I require from all those for whom I wish to do my best; and this is also what I beg your friend towards whom I am desirous of acting conscientiously, to let me do. He can tell me what size he wishes the picture to be, with the general subject of it, such as calm, tempest, sun-rise, sun-set, moon-light, landscape, marine-piece, etc. , but nothing more. Experience has taught me that, when I am constrained by the least thing, I always succeed worse than generally. 

 "If you wish to know the usual prices of my pictures, they are as follows:--For every one four feet wide, and two and a half, or three high, £60, for every one three feet wide, and of a proportionate height, £48; for every one two feet and a half wide £40; for every one two feet wide, £32; and for every one eighteen inches wide, £24, with larger or smaller ones as required; but it is as well to mention that I succeed much better with the large ones. "

CHARLES VERNET. 

Antoine Charles Horace Vernet was the son of Claude Joseph Vernet, andborn at Bordeaux in 1758. He acquired distinction as a painter, and wasmade a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, and of the order of St Michael. He chiefly excelled in battle and parade pieces of large dimensions; andhe thus commemorated the battles of Rivoli, Marengo, Austerlitz, Wagram, the Departure of the Marshals, and other events of French history whichoccurred during his artistical career. More pleasing to many are hissmaller pictures, mostly referring to battles and camps. He wasuncommonly successful in depicting the horse, and there are numerousequestrian portraits by him, which are greatly admired. His studies fromnature, and his hunting pieces, for vivacity, spirit, and boldness ofconception, are only rivaled by those of his son Horace. Many of hisworks have been lithographed; the twenty-eight plates in folio, illustrating the Campaign of Bonaparte in Italy, are esteemed among hismost successful efforts. He died in 1836. 

ANECDOTE OF CHARLES VERNET. 

A short time before his death, Charles Vernet, having some business totransact with one of the public functionaries, called at his office andsent in his card. The minister left him waiting two whole hours in theanteroom before he admitted him to his presence, when the business wasquickly dispatched. Meeting Vernet at a soiree soon afterwards, theminister apologized for his _apparent_ neglect, which not appearing verysatisfactory to the veteran painter, he mildly rebuked him by observing, "It is of no consequence, sir, but permit me to say that I think alittle more respect should have been shown to the son of Joseph and thefather of Horace Vernet. "

M. DE LASSON'S CARICATURE. 

A Norman priest, who lived in the middle of the seventeenth century, named the Abbé Malotru, was remarkably deformed in his figure, andridiculous in his dress. One day, while he was performing mass, heobserved a smile of contempt on the face of M. De Lasson, whichirritated him so much that the moment the service was over, heinstituted a process against him. Lasson possessed the talent ofcaricature drawing: he sketched a figure of the ill-made priest, accoutred, as he used to be, in half a dozen black caps over oneanother, nine waistcoats, and as many pair of breeches. When the courtbefore whom he was cited urged him to produce his defense, he suddenlyexhibited his Abbé Malotru, and the irresistible laughter which itoccasioned insured his acquittal. 

FRANK HALS AND VANDYKE. 

In the early part of Frank Hals' life, to accommodate his countrymen, who were sparing both of their time and money, he painted portraits fora low price at one sitting in a single hour. Vandyke on his way to Rome, passing through the place, sat his hour as a stranger to the rapidportrait painter. Hals had seen some of the works of Vandyke, but wasunacquainted with his person. When the picture was finished, Vandyke, assuming a silly manner, said it appeared to be easy work, and that hethought he could do it. Hals, thinking to have some fun, consented tosit an hour precisely by the clock, and not to rise or look at what hefully expected to find a laughable daub. Vandyke began his work; Halslooked like a sitter. At the close, the wag rose with all his risiblemuscles prepared for a hearty laugh; but when he saw the splendidsketch, he started, looked, and exclaimed, "You must be either Vandykeor the Devil!"