Martyr," in which I observed that the colours were placed contrary to their disposition in the rainbow; the largest quantity of blue, namely, in the sky, being on the side on which the light enters. I noticed this to him, and he said, "Titian had so fine an eye that he could produce harmony by any arrangement "—a reply which places all theories that make harmony dependent on any one system of composition, in the category of mere forms or modes, and not of laws.

Fifty years ago amateur and drawing-school practice was beset with rules, at many of which a painter of the present day would smile, and some of these were even countenanced by Reynolds. In what was considered the higher and more poetic style of landscape, accidents (as they were called), for instance partial gleams of sunshine, were forbidden; and Sir Joshua considered that Claude omitted such effects on principle. But I believe that where Claude has not availed himself of such beauties of effect, he was guided by no other principle than his feeling, that the sentiment of the picture did not require, and would be disturbed by them; for it is not conceivable that he considered any of the accidental appearances of Nature unworthy of the highest class of Art, if judiciously introduced.

Then there were Sir George Beaumont's rules, that in every landscape there should be at least one brown tree; and that every picture should have a first, second, and third light. "I see," he said, looking at a picture by Constable, "your first and your second lights, but I can't make out which is your third." Constable told this to Turner, who said, "You should have asked him how many lights Rubens introduced."

E

SECTION IV.

On Classification.

CHARLES LAMB, in his "Essay on Hogarth,"* notices "that rage for classification, by which," as he says, “in matters of taste at least, we are perpetually perplexing instead of arranging our ideas." For my own part, I have long since been accustomed to disregard classification in Art, according to subject; and, as in Sancho Panza's story, wherever the great man sat was the head of the table, so-when I stand before that which impresses me as the work of a truly great painter, it belongs for the time being (in my mind) to the highest class of Art, let the subject be what it will. I say for the time being,-for I always recur to Michael Angelo and Raphael as the greatest of painters; not because they painted the most sublime subjects,-for hundreds who are now as nothing have done the same, -but because they brought the loftiest minds to whatever subject they treated.

The Art of every painter is modified by his feelings as much as by his intellect. Michael Angelo and Raphael lived in the most splendid, and at the same time the most corrupt, age of modern Rome. The temperament of Michael Angelo disposed him to soli

* The best ever written; though it is to be regretted that, in praising Hogarth, he thought fit to disparage Reynolds.

tude; he knew and

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despised the world about him, and lived apart from it. But there was nothing cynical or morose in the character of this great man. He was warm-hearted, steady in his friendships, and sincerely religious in an age, as Roscoe well calls it, practical atheism." His attachment to his servant, Urbino, whom he waited on and nursed in his last illness, though he was then 82 years of age, is one among many proofs of the goodness and warmth of his heart; and the sincerity of his religion is not only seen in his sonnets, but confirmed by the fact, that, for the last seventeen years of his life, he devoted himself to the building of St. Peter's, entirely as a work of piety, refusing to receive any payment for his services.

Raphael, raised also above the world by every generous and noble feeling, yet lived in the midst of it, respected and beloved by all whose respect and love were worth the having. "He had always," says Lanzi, “possessed the power of engaging the affections of all with whom he was acquainted. Respectful to his master, he obtained from the Pope an assurance that his works on the ceiling of the Vatican should remain unmolested;—just towards his rivals, he expressed his gratitude to God that he had been born in the days of Michael Angelo ;-gracious towards his pupils, he loved them, and entrusted them as his sons; —courteous to strangers, he cheerfully lent his aid to all who asked his advice;-and in order to make designs for others, or to direct them in their studies, he sometimes even neglected his own work-being alike incapable of refusing or delaying his inestimable aid."

Such were these wonderful men, alike in their greatness, yet with so much of difference in temperament, that they could not but affect us differently by their works. "We stand with awe before Michael Angelo," says Fuseli, "and tremble at the height to which he elevates us, we embrace Raphael, and follow him whithersoever he chooses to lead us." But I shall reserve, for the present, what I have further to say of them. I have merely noticed the resemblance and difference of their natures, as accounting for the resemblance and difference of their Art.

When Sterne's critic speaks of the "Correggeisity of Correggio," the absurdity is in the sound and by no means in the sense; for such words as Raphaelesque, Titianesque, and Michael Angelesque are naturalised and indispensable to the language of criticism;—nor do I hesitate to say that every painter,-good-bad -and indifferent,-equally expresses his own nature in his Art; for the most exact, the most servile imitator, in the endeavour to appropriate to himself the mind of another, displays the poverty of his own.

This influence is what the Germans call the subjective element, an element that leads to all that is most valuable in the imitation of Nature, or to all that is the reverse.

It may be said that among painters, and great ones, the minds of some are often not easily distinguishable, as in the cases of Giorgione and Titian. I am not sufficiently acquainted with the works of Giorgione or the early style of Titian to pronounce with certainty what I believe to be true, that an intimate knowledge would enable a competent judge

It must

to distinguish between them in every case. be remembered that Giorgione died young, and there are instances of artists, contemporaries, who, up to the time of life at which he and Titian were separated, as closely resembled each other, but who afterwards displayed a marked difference of character. There are pictures by Rubens and by Vandyke, which may readily be mistaken for the work of either, yet how diverse do the powers of their minds appear when the products of the life of each are compared. Paul Veronese painted a "Nativity," in evident close imitation of the Bassans,-of whose style he was so great an admirer, that he placed his son as a pupil with Giacomo; yet the gentility of Paulo is apparent through the disguise; and I have seen skilful imitations by David Teniers of different masters, but in which he is always discoverable.

A resemblance in the styles of painters of very different minds is the result of another influence, that of the country and the age to which they belong. But the Art is a tell-tale, and no painter can effectually conceal himself in it from those who understand its language; and of all the qualities of the mind, there is nothing more sure to be betrayed by the pencil than innate vulgarity,—no matter with how high an aim, or with how much of learning or of technical power it endeavours to pass for what is lofty. On the other hand, a mind is sometimes discovered by the Art, alone, to be superior to any prejudgment that might be formed from our knowledge of the education or personal habits of the individual.

Of this, I know not a more remarkable instance