upon the notion which prevails of the coloring hoving faded and perished in the majority of Sir Joshua Reynolds's works. This is not correct far the greater part of his pictures preserve their original hue, and are in perfect preservation. Those which have failed have been mentioned again and again, and thus have been multiplied in the imaginations of connoisseurs.-Nor should it be forgotten, that the pictures of other considerable painters have not been more durable than his. As many perished pictures of Gainsborough are, it has been affirmed, to be found in cabinets as of Sir Joshua Reynolds. Even the great colorists of the continent were not wholly free from this defect. Several pictures of Titian and Vandyck, and more particularly of the exquisite French painter Watteau, have entirely lost that brilliancy which, without doubt, they once possessed.

What Reynolds did for portrait-painting, his distinguished contemporary, Wilson, did for landscape. He also had studied at Rome, and brought home thence a refined taste, and a power of execution at once chaste, glowing, and brilliant while, in the historical department, Sir Joshua's successor, the late lamented Mr. West, without rivalling either of the three great names just mentioned, yet displayed sufficient ability to throw completely into the background what had been previously produced by the successors of Sir James Thornhill, Hayman, Pine, and Whale. Besides West, we cannot forbear to make honorable mention of the names of Romney, Opie, and Barry.

The present state of painting in this country is very encouraging to the lover of art. In portrait, besides the highly-gifted president of the academy, Sir Thomas Lawrence, we have several other eminent professors: in landscape and marine subjects, Turner and Callcott are at the head of a numerous body of followers. The pencil of Wilkie throws a brilliant lustre over both the humorous and pathetic departments of art; and in the arduous walk of history (a walk of art which, although it is entitled, when successfully pursued, to the highest honors, is too often followed without either profit or distinction,) there are several names which we might select, whose bearers appear to us qualified to elevate the national reputation far higher than it has ever hitherto been raised. For the truth of these observations, we need only appeal to the annual exhibitions both at Somerset House and at the British Institution.

It would lead us beyond the limits of this work to go much at large into the theory and practice of painting. This article would be, however, incomplete did we not subjoin a few observations on these subjects.

PART II.

THEORY AND PRINCIPLES OF THE
ARTIST'S STUDIES.

SECT. I.-GENERAL PRINCIPLES. And first, of anatomy. It would be unnecessary to cite what the greatest authorities have declared with respect to the requisiteness of this

point of knowledge. It must be obvious that a man unacquainted with the construction and form of the several bones that govern and support the human frame, or who does not understand the way in which the muscles moving these bones are fixed to them, can make nothing of what appears to them through the integuments with which they are covered; which appearance, however, is one of the noblest objects of the pencil. It seldom happens that the painter's business is limited to the mere exact copying of an object before him. For instance, if he has to depict gestures any way sudden, or motions any way violent, a living model would scarcely answer his purpose, since it holds but two or three instants, soon growing languid, and settling into a fixed attitude, which is produced by an instantaneous concourse of the animal spirits. Here then the painter's acquaintance with anatomy should come into play, his knowledge not only of the skeleton, but of the origin, progress, and shape of the muscles which cover the bones, and also the different degrees in which nature has clothed these muscles with fat.

It was the intention of Michael Angelo to give the public a complete treatise on this subject, and it is much to be regretted that he never should have accomplished so desirable a purpose. This sublime painter having observed (as appears in Condivi's life of him) that Albert Durer was deficient with respect to anatomy, resolved to compose a theory founded on his long practice: and surely no one could be better qualified to furnish anatomical precepts than he who, as competitor of Leonardo da Vinci, formed that famous cartoon of naked bodies which was studied by Raffaelle himself, and subsequently obtained the approbation of the Vatican. The want of Michael Angelo's precepts may be in some measure compensated by books written on the same subject by Moro, Cesio, and Tortelat; and more recently by Boucherdon, one of the most famous statuaries of France. Nothing, however, can be of equal service with the lessons of some able dissector, besides which a good deal of improvement may be acquired by the study of anatomical casts.

It was the particular happiness of the Greeks to be capable of characterising and expressing the various parts of the human body much better than we can pretend to do; towards this end their earnest study of the naked figure mainly contributed, as did also the constant exercise taken by the Grecian youth in gymnastic games, which, by development and display of the muscular system, afforded the painter and statuary far more perfect models than those at present employed. It has been well suggested, that the student might make himself more thoroughly master of the science of anatomy by taking one part of any well-known figure, the thighs of the Laocoon, for instance, and adding to them legs suitable to that state in which the muscles of the thighs are represented. To the simple contour of an anatome, or statue, he might add the parts included by it, and give it a system of muscles conformable to the quality of that particular contour. Exercises of this nature would soon establish him in the most fundamental principles

of painting, especially if he had an opportunity of comparing his drawings with the statue or cast from which the parts given him to work upon were taken. See ANATOMY.

It cannot fail to appear obvious that the study of symmetry should immediately succeed that of anatomy; since it would not much avail us to be acquainted with the different parts of the human body, and their several offices, were we, on the other hand, ignorant of the relative order and proportion of those parts to one another. The Greek sculptors were as eminent for the just symmetry of members as for anatomical skill. Polygnotus executed a statue which he denominated the Rule, from which other artists might take measures for every part of the human body. These measures, not to speak of those books which professedly treat of them, may now be derived from the Apollo Belvedere, the Laocoon, the Venus de Medici, and particularly the Antinous, which was the rule adopted by Nicholas Poussin. See SYMMETRY.

Perspective, according to Leonardo da Vinci (an authority from which there can be no appeal) is to be considered as the reins and rudder of painting. It teaches the proportion in which the parts fly from, and lessen on, the eye; how figures should be marshalled upon a plane surface, and foreshortened. It contains, in a word, the whole rationale of design.

As the demonstration of the rules of perspective depends on the doctrine of proportions, on the properties of similar triangles, and on the intersection of planes, it is desirable that an abridgment of Euclid should be put into the hands of the young painter, in order that he may understand these rules fundamentally, and not stand confined to a blind practice of them: at the same time, there is nothing in this author relative to the art of painting which might not easily be acquired in a few months. See PER

SPECTIVE.

The study of optics, so far as it is requisite to determine the proportion in which objects are to be illuminated or shaded, should proceed hand in hand with that of perspective and this in order that the shades cast by figures upon the planes on which they stand may fall properly, and be neither too strong nor too light:in a word, that those most beautiful effects of the chiaro-scuro may run no risk of ever deviating from truth, which, sooner or later, is sure to render itself visible. See OPTICS.

'Coloring,' says Sir Joshua Reynolds, though it may at first sight appear a part of painting merely mechanical, yet it still has its rules, and those grounded upon that presiding principle which regulates both the great and the little in the study of a painter. By this, the first effect of the picture is produced; and, as this is performed, the spectator, as he walks the gallery, will stop, or pass along. To give a general air of grandeur at first view, all trifling, or artful play of little lights, or attention to a variety of tints, is to be avoided; a quietness and simplicity must reign over the whole work; to which a breadth of uniform and simple color will very much contribute. Grandeur of effect is produced by two different ways, which seem

entirely opposed . each other. One is, by reducing the colors to little more than chiaro-scuro, which was often the practice of the Bolognian school; and the other, by making the colors very distinct and forcible, such as we see in those of Rome and Florence; but still the presiding principle of both these manners is simplicity. Certainly, nothing can be more simple than monotony; and the distinct blue, red, and yellow colors which are seen in the draperies of the Roman and Florentine schools, though they have not that kind of harmony which is produced by a variety of broken and transparent colors, have that effect of grandeur which was intended. Perhaps these distinct colors strike the mind more forcibly, from there not being any great union between them; as martial mus c, which is intended to rouse the nobler passions, has its effect from the sudden and strongly marked transitions from one note to another, which that style of music requires; whilst, in that which is intended to move the softer passions, the notes imperceptibly melt into one another.

Drapery, being also a most important branch of the art, accordingly requires the greatest study and attention. It but seldom occurs that a painter has only naked figures to represent; and it may be observed, that the flowing of the folds in every garment depends principally on the relief of the parts which lie under it. A certain author, whose name we do not recollect, remarks, that as the inequalities of a surface are discoverable by the inequalities in the water that runs over it, so the shape and posture of the members must be discernible by the folds of the vestment which covers them.

Of landscape and architecture.-The most eminent landscape painters are Claude Lorraine, Poussin, and Titian. The former of these celebrated men, although he reigns triumphantly in every department of landscape, and in marine subjects also, yet might be said to have applied himself principally to express the various phenomena of light, particularly those observable in the heavens; and thanks to the delicious climate of Italy, where he studied and practised, he has bequeathed us the brightest skies, and the most splendid horizons, that can be imagined. Poussin was distinguished, and deserved to be so, for his uncommon application. His compositions are fraught with imagery of a classical as well as delightful character, being set off with learned episodes, such as poets reciting their verses in the woods, Grecian youths exercising gymnastic games, &c. Titian may be styled the Homer of landscape painting. One of the finest landscapes that perhaps ever issued from mortal hands is the background of his Martyrdom of St. Peter; which has so much truth, so much variety, so much bloom, that it is almost impossible to behold without desiring to make an excursion into it. Paolo Veronese is, in architecture, what Titian is in landscape. To excel in landscape, we must, above all things, study nature; to excel in architecture we must regard principally the finest among the works of art: such, for instance, as the elevations of ancient edifices, together with the fabrics of those moderns who have best studied and best copied antiquity.

'Invention in painting does not,' according to Sir Joshua Reynolds, imply the invention of the subject; for that is commonly supplied by the poet or historian. With respect to the choice, no subject can be proper that is not generally interesting. It ought to be either some eminent instance of heroic action or heroic suffering. There must be something either in the action, or in the object, in which men are universally concerned, and which powerfully strikes upon the public sympathy. As it is required that the subject selected should be a general one, it is no less necessary that it should be kept unembarrassed with whatever may any way serve to divide the attention of the spectator. Whenever a story is related, every man forms a picture in his mind of the action and expression of the persons employed. The power of representing this mental picture on canvas is what in a painter we call invention. And as, in the conception of this ideal picture, the mind does not enter into the minute peculiarities of the dress, furniture, or scene of action; so, when the painter comes to represent it, he contrives those little necessary concomitant circumstances in such a manner, that they shall strike the spectator no more than they did himself in his first conception of the story. The great end of the art is to strike the imagination. The painter therefore is to make no ostentation of the means by which this is done; the spectator is only to feel the result in his bosom. An inferior artist is unwilling that any part of his industry should be lost upon the spectator. He takes as much pains to discover, as the greater artist does to conceal, the marks of his subordinate assiduity. In works of the lower kind, every thing appears studied and encumbered; it is all boastful art, and open affectation. The ignorant often part from such pictures with wonder in their mouths, and indifference in their hearts. But it is not enough in invention that the artist should restrain and keep under all the inferior parts of his subject; he must sometimes deviate from vulgar and strict historical truth, in pursuing the grandeur of his design. How much the great style exacts from its professors to conceive and represent their subjects in a poetical manner, not confined to mere matter of fact, may be seen in the cartoons of Raffaelle. In all the pictures in which the painter has represented the apostles, he has drawn them with great nobleness; he has given them as much dignity as the human figure is capable of receiving; yet we are expressly told in Scripture they had no such respectable appearance; and of St. Paul, in particular, we are told by himself that his bodily presence was mean. Alexander is said to have been of a low stature: a painter ought not so to represent him. Agesilaus was low, lame, and of a mean appearance: none of these defects ought to appear in a piece of which he is the hero. In conformity to custom, I call this part of the art history painting; it ought to be called poetical, as in reality it is.

As in invention, so likewise in expression, care must be taken not to run into particularities. Those expressions alone should be given to the figures which their respective situations generally produce. Nor is this enough; each

This

person should also have that expression which men of his rank generally exhibit. The joy or the grief of a character of dignity is not to be expressed in the same manner as a similar passion in a vulgar face. Upon this principle Bernini, perhaps, may be subject to censure. sculptor, in many respects admirable, has given a very mean expression to his statue of David, who is represented as just going to throw the stone from the sling; and, in order to give it the expression of energy, he has made him biting his under lip. This expression is far from being general, and still farther from being dignified. He might have seen it in an instance or two; and he mistook accident for generality.'

Of Portraiture.-There are four things necessary to make a portrait perfect; viz. air, coloring, dress, and attitude.

1. The air respects the lines of the face, the head attire, and the size. The lines of the face depend upon exactness of draught, and agreement of the parts; for it is not exactness of design in portraits that gives spirit and true air, so much as the agreement of the parts at the very moment when the disposition and temperament of the sitter are to be caught. We see several portraits, which, though correctly designed, have a cold, languishing, and stupid air; whilst others, less correct in design, strike us, however, at first sight, as a resemblance.

Few painters are careful enough to put the parts well together: Sometimes the mouth is smiling, and the eyes are sad; at other times the eyes are cheerful, and the cheeks lank; by which means their work has a false air, and looks unnatural. Of all the parts of the face, that which contributes most to likeness is the nose; it is therefore of great moment to set and draw it well. Though the hair of the head seems to be part of the dress which is capable of various forms without altering the air of the face; yet the head attire which one has been most accustomed to, creates such a likeness, that we scarce know a familiar acquaintance on his putting on a wig, or any other head attire, different from that which he used to wear. It is necessary, therefore, as far as possible, to take the air of the head ornament, and make it accompany and set off that of the face.

As to the stature, it contributes so much to likeness, that we very often know people without seeing their face: it is, therefore, extremely proper to draw the size of a full length portrait, after the sitter himself, and in such an attitude as he usually appears in. In sitting, the person appears to be of a less free make, through the heaving of his shoulders: wherefore, to adjust his size, it is proper to make him stand for a short time in the posture we would give him, and then make our observations. All deformities, when the air and temper may be discovered without them, ought to be either corrected or omitted in portraits. But in some faces we cannot be too exact, whether the parts be beautiful or not; as every thing in an important picture is precious that is faithful. But, after whatever manner the painter acquits himself in this point, let him never forget good air and grace; and that there are moments particularly advantageous for hitting them off.

2. Coloring, in portraiture, is an effusion of nature, often connected with the true tempers of persons; and, the temper being essential to likeness, it ought to be handled as exactly as the de

This part is the more valuable, as it is rare and difficult to hit. Many painters have come to a likeness by strokes and outlines; but few have shown in colors the tempers of persons. Two points are necessary in coloring; exactness of tins, and the art of setting them off. The former is acquired by practice, in examining and comparing the colors we see in life with those by which we would imitate it; and the art of those tin's consists in knowing what one color will produce when set by another, and in making good what either distance or time may abate on the glow and freshness of the colors. A painter who does nothing more than what he sees, will never arrive at a perfect imitation; for, though his work may seem on the easel to be good to him, it may not appear so to others, nor perhaps even to himself at a distance. A tint, which, near, appears disjoined, and of one color, may look of another at a distance, and be confounded in the mass it belongs to. If you would have your work, therefore, to produce a good effect in the place where it is to hang, both the colors and lights must be a little loaded, but with discretion. In this point consult Titian, Rubens, Vandyck, and Rembrandt's methods: for indeed their art is wonderful. The tints usually require three times of observation. The first is at the person's first sitting down, when he has more spirit and color than ordinary. The second is when, being composed, his look is as usual. And the third is when, through tiresomeness by sitting in one posture, his color alters to what weariness usually creates. On which account, it is best to keep to the sitter's usual tint, a little improved.

3. In the dress and draperies of men's portraits, we need only observe great truth and force; but in women's there must also be charms; whatever beauty they possess must appear in a fine light, and their blemishes must be softened. For this reason a white, lively, and bright tint, ought never to be set off by a fine yellow, which would make it look like plaster; but rather by colors inclining to green, blue, or gray, or such others as, by their opposition, may make the tint appear more fleshy than usual in fair women. Vandyck often made a fillemot-colored curtain for his ground; but that color is soft and brown. Brown women, on the other hand, who have yellow enough to support the character of fleshiness, may very well have yellowish draperies, to bring down the yellow of their tints, and make them look the fresher; and, near very high-colored and lively carnations, linen does

wonders.

In grounds, two things are observable; the tone and the color. The color is to be considered in the same manner as those of draperies, with respect to the head. The tone must be always different from the mass it supports, and of which it is the ground, that the objects coming upon it may not seem transparent, but solid and raised. The color of the hair of the head usually determines the tone of the ground; and, when

the former is a bright chestnut, we are often embarassed, unless helped by means of a curtain, or some accident of the claro-obscuro, supposed to be behind, or unless the ground is a sky. Where a ground is neither curtain nor landscape, but is plain like a wall, it ought to be very much party-colored, with almost imperceptible patches or stains; for, besides its being so in nature, the picture will look the more grand.

4. Attitudes ought to suit the ages and qualities of persons and their tempers. In old men and women they should be grave, majestic, and sometimes bold; and generally, in women, they ought to have a noble simplicity and modest cheerfulness: a charm infinitely beyond coquetry and indeed coquettes themselves care not to be painted such. Attitudes are of two kinds: one in motion, the other at rest. Those at rest may suit every person: but those in motion are proper for young people only, and are hard to be expressed; because a great part of the hair and drapery must be moved by the air; motion, in painting, being never better expressed than by such agitations. The attitudes at rest must not appear so much so as to seem to represent an inactive person, and one who sits for no other purpose but to be a copy. And, though the figure that is represented be at rest, yet the painter, if he think fit, may give it a flying drapery, provided the scene or ground be not a chamber or close place.

It is above all things necessary that the figures which are not employed should appear to satisfy the spectator's curiosity; and for this purpose show themselves in such an action as suits their tempers and conditions, as if they would inform him what they really were. In a word, attitude is the language of portraits; and the skilful painter ought to give great attention to it. The best attitudes are such as induce the spectator to think that the sitter took a favorable opportunity of being seen to advantage, but yet without affectation. With regard to women's portraits, in whatever attitude they are placed, they should sway in such a manner as to give their face but little shade; and we should carefully examine whether the face appear more beautiful in a smiling or in a serious air.

According to De Piles, portraiture requires three different sittings and operations: viz. dead coloring, second-coloring, and retouching or finishing. Before the painter dead-color, he must attentively consider what aspect will best suit the sitter, by putting him in different posi tions, if he have not any settled design; when this is determined, it is of the utmost consequence to put the parts well together, by comparing always one part with another; for not only the portrait acquires a greater likeness when well designed, but it is troublesome to make alterations at the second sitting, when the artist should only think of painting, that is, of disposing and uniting his colors.

i. The dead-coloring ought to be clean, because of the slope and transparency of the colors, especially in the shades; and when the parts are well put together, and become clammy, they must be judiciously sweetened and melted in

each other; yet without taking away the air of the picture, that the painter may finish it, in proportion as he draws. But if fiery geniuses do not like this method of scumbling, let them only mark the parts slightly, and so far as is necessary for giving an air. In dead-coloring it is proper to put in rather too little than too much hair about the forehead; that, in finishing, we may be at liberty to place it where we please, and to paint it with all possible softness and delicacy. If, on the contrary, you sketch upon the forehead a lock which may appear to be of a good taste, and becoming the work, you may be puzzled in finishing it, and not find the life exactly in the same position as you would paint it.

ii. The business of the second sitting is to put the colors well in their places, and to paint them in a manner that is suitable to the sitter and to the effect we propose; but, before they are made clammy, we ought to examine afresh whether the parts are rightly placed, and here and there to give some touches towards likeness, that, when we are assured of it, the work may go on with greater satisfaction. If the portrait be justly designed, the painter ought, as much as possible, to work quick, as the work will thus have the more spirit and life. But this readiness is only the effect of long study and experience.

If we

nii. Before we retouch or finish, it is proper to terminate the hair, that, on finishing the carnations, we may be able to judge of the effect of the whole head. If, at the second sitting, we cannot do all we intended, which often happens, the third makes up the loss, and gives both spirit, physiognomy, and character. would paint a portrait at once, we must load the coloring; but neither sweeten nor drive, nor very much oil it; and, if we dip the pencil in varnish as the work advances, this will readily enable us to put color on color, and to mix them without driving. There is nothing so rare as fine hands, either in the design or coloring. It is, therefore, convenient to cultivate a friendship with some women, who will take pleasure in serving for a copy. But if an opportunity occurs of copying hands after Vandyck, it must not be let slip; for he drew them with a surprising delicacy and an admirable coloring. It is of great service to copy after the manners which come nearest to nature; as are those of Titian and Vandyck.

Before we begin coloring, we must catch the very first moments, which are commonly the most agreeable and most advantageous, and to keep them in our memory for use when we are finishing; for the sitter, growing tired with being long in the same place, loses those spirits which, at his first sitting down, gave beauty to the parts, and conveyed to the tint more lively blood, and a fresher color. In short, we must join to truth a probable and advantageous possibility, which, far from abating likeness, serves rather to set it off. For this end, we ought to begin with observing the ground of a tint, as well what it is in lights as in shades; for the shades are only beautiful as they are proportioned to the light. We must observe, if the tint be very lively, whether it partake of yellowness, and where that yellowness is placed; because usually, towards the

end of the sitting, fatigue diffuses a general yellowness, which makes us forget what parts were of this color, and what were not, unless we had taken due notice of it before. For this reason, at the second sitting, the colors must be every where readily clapped in, and such as appear at the first sitting down; for these are always the finest. The surest way to judge of colors, is by comparison; and, to know a tint, nothing is better than to compare it with linen placed next it, or else placed next to the natural object if there is occasion. The portrait being now finished, nothing remains, but, at some distance of time, to view both the picture and sitter together, to determine with certainty, whether there is any thing still wanting to the work.

Of theatrical decorations, &c.-Theatrical decorations require a particular art which unites several of the general parts of painting with the knowledge of architecture, perspective, &c. They who apply themselves to it would do well to design their decorations by day, and to color them by candle light, as they will be much better able to judge of the effect of a painting intended to be viewed by that light.

The designs for furniture, carriages, porcelain, and other branches of manufacture, form also a very important article of painting in general, and of academy painting in particular. This is a distinct branch of the art; and without doubt not the least useful, as it contributes so essentially to the success of manufactures, and consequently to the prosperity of a state; and it is an art to which it were much to be wished that youth of ability and invention would apply themselves. See JAPANNING and PORCELAIN.

These may be deemed the chief principles of the art of painting, which it behoves the student indispensably to acquire not only the knowledge but likewise the practice of. There are also others, which must not by any means be overlooked, and among these are to be enumerated -disposition, costume, and illusion. This latter quality cannot, perhaps, in its strictest sense, be attained by painting: there is, however, a species of it (although probably the name is not fairly applied) which demands the greatest attention, and forms one of the chief fascinations of the art. It is this: that the painting shall resemble truth to such an extent, by the justness of its forms, the combination of its colors, and all its general effects, that the image thereby presented shall afford all the gratification resulting from the imitation of reality. This, it is admitted, is not illusion in the stricter sense of the word; for it exists as well in pictures on a small scale as in those of equal dimensions with the thing represented: but it is that exactness of imitation of which painting is susceptible, even in pictures which comprise any number of figures at a reasonable distance from each other.

We shall now proceed to illustrate the theoretical part of our subject by a few practical observations.

And, first:-Let us warn the young artist against being led astray by the ambition of composing facilely, or acquiring that which is termed a masterly handling of the chalk or pencil. To this mistaken aim, however, young men are incited in various ways. There is something dash