Chapter XXVIII: Appendix

The following article upon the character of Fuseli, as an artist, is from the pen of William Young Ottley, Esq. F.S.A.

"A very slight comparison of the works of Sir Joshua Reynolds with
the portraits habitually produced by the painters of this country
during the first half of the last century, and whose merits, for
the most part, as pictures, now fit them only for the housekeeper's
room or the garret, will suffice to establish his claim as a
restorer of art and a reformer of public taste. Somewhat later, Mr.
West produced his 'Death of Wolfe,' and some other pictures
representing subjects of our national history, which much surpassed
what had before been done among us in that way; and in landscape,
we had the now justly admired Wilson.

"In the highest department of painting however, which not
improperly may be termed poetic or epic painting, we had still no
artist of any eminence; when in the year 1779, Mr. Fuseli, after a
stay of eight years in Italy, came and settled among us. Of
Mortimer, who had shortly before died young, great expectations, it
is true, had been formed; and we had then also Cipriani, a
Florentine, who, in his way an excellent draughtsman, long
continued uninterruptedly to furnish our portfolios with pretty
designs of sporting Nymphs, Cupids, and Graces. But the former,
although conversant with the human figure, was too easily led to
imitate the deformed and squalid in nature, and was deficient in
greatness of style; and the genius of the latter wanted the nerve
requisite to fit him for subjects requiring force and expression.

"The genius of Mr. Fuseli was of a very different class. An
intimate acquaintance with the learned languages had early enabled
him to fill his mind from the rich storehouses of ancient poesy; he
was all energy and imagination. But in his youth, not then
intending to practise painting professionally, he had not subjected
himself, as an artist, to the restraints of an academic education.
To curb his genius afterwards was impossible; and to this
circumstance we must attribute much of that fine wildness of
character which distinguishes his performances; not unmixed, it is
true, with a certain exaggeration of manner in the drawing and
action of the figures, but which still no person of fancy would
consent to exchange for the regulated but cold manner too often
learned in schools. Had it been the intention of Mr. Fuseli to
devote his pencil to the representation of subjects of real, sober
history, the every-day occurrences of life, this peculiarity in his
style, often amounting to extravagance, would have been
inapplicable. But it has ever been his aim, especially in his
larger works, to soar in the sublime regions of Poetry; and what,
it may be asked, is Poetry, if entirely divested of amplification?

"A style founded upon ordinary nature, such as we see every day, is
certainly ill-fitted to subjects of the above elevated description;
and should it be objected, as a consequence of this fact, that such
subjects are therefore not the proper subjects for painting at all,
may it not be asked, what is then to be said of many of the
greatest works of Michelangiolo, of several of those of Raffaelle,
of the admired performances of Giulio Romano at Mantua, and of many
of the most extensive compositions even of Rubens? Nor can it be
insisted that such cases are not in point, inasmuch as those
artists did not use the same exaggeration of style in their naked
figures as we see in those of Mr. Fuseli: for, although they did
not exaggerate in the same manner, yet they all did exaggerate;
Michelangiolo, by giving to his figures that immensity of
character, which has occasioned them to be appropriately styled 'a
race of giants;' Raffaelle and Giulio, amongst other things, by
encreasing in thickness the limbs of their figures beyond what
nature will commonly be found to justify; and Rubens, by a mixed
augmentation of muscle and obesity, which, were his figures alive,
might, perhaps, be found to have given them, in most cases, the
appearance of encreased strength, without the reality: to say
nothing of Parmigiano, whose works, though deservedly esteemed,
often display, in the outlines and proportions of the figures, a
far greater degree of extravagance than can generally be detected
in those of the respected Professor of Painting to our Royal
Academy.[74] But enough has been said to shew that the greatest
artists have not thought that a style of drawing strictly imitative
of common nature, was well adapted to subjects of an ideal
character. It may be proper that we should now add a few words upon
the style of Mr. Fuseli in particular.

"It is well known that the human figure, trained and disciplined by
gymnastic exercises, presents to the eye an appearance very
different from that which we perceive in the bodies of persons of
inert habits accidentally seen naked, or stripped for the purpose
of being drawn from. The frequent opportunities of viewing the
human figure naked, which were afforded to the ancient Greek
artists, by the public games and festivals used among them, could
not fail to render this familiar to them; and accordingly, besides
the correctness of proportion which we admire in their works, we
find in their statues the nicest distinctions of this kind, exactly
suited to the age, dignity, and habits of life of the different
personages they were intended to represent. To their figures of
Gods and Heroes, it is well known they were accustomed to give
proportions more or less differing from those which they commonly
adopted when representing the figures of ordinary men; and this
variation from any thing like a common standard is especially
observable in the celebrated colossal statue upon Monte Cavallo, of
the sublime excellence of which all men may now form a judgment
from the bronze cast of it lately erected in one of our parks:
for, besides that the arch formed under the breast by the ribs, and
the divisions of the abdominal muscles are more strongly marked in
that statue than in almost all others, the lower limbs bear to the
rest of the figure a greater proportionate length than we find in
perhaps any other example of ancient sculpture. A figure like this,
uniting in the fullest manner strength and activity with dignity,
was peculiarly adapted to subjects of an elevated and energetic
character, such as at all times pressed upon the imagination of Mr.
Fuseli; and accordingly he made its proportions the basis of his
style. If it be urged that he too constantly kept to the
proportions of the above model, it may be answered that few or none
of the painters of modern times have shewn a disposition to imitate
the ancients in that nice discrimination of character in their
naked figures, which has been noticed above; and it is well known
that it has been objected, even against Michelangiolo, the greatest
designer of all, that the numerous figures in his stupendous 'Last
Judgment,' however varied in attitude, are all of nearly the same
character of form. The fact is, that Mr. Fuseli's style of design
is of the most elevated kind, and consequently best suited to
subjects of a very elevated character.

"In respect of invention, composition, clair-obscure, the works of
Mr. Fuseli generally merit unmixed praise; and although in the more
technical parts of colouring, they have not equal pretensions,
still in this also they deserve commendation; being commonly
painted in that solemn tone of colouring which we admire in the
works of the greatest fresco-painters, and which Sir Joshua
Reynolds observes to be so well adapted to the higher kind of
pictorial representation. As an inventor, he equals the greatest
painters that have lived since the restoration of the art. No one
was ever more fully gifted with the rare faculty of at once
discovering, in the writer he is perusing, the point of the story,
and the moment of time, best calculated to produce a forcible
effect in painting. The loftier his subject, the more easily he
reaches it; and when he undertakes that at which another artist
would tremble, he is the most sure of success. The truth of this
was especially made manifest in the year 1799, when Mr. Fuseli
exhibited publicly a large collection of his works, under the title
of 'The Milton Gallery;' the subjects of by far the greater part of
the pictures having been taken by him from the 'Paradise Lost.' The
magnificent imagery of this poem, the beautiful, the sublime, or
the terrific character of the personages represented in it, and of
the actions described, all combined to fit it for the display of
the artist's surprising genius in its fullest force; besides which,
the style of Mr. Fuseli was here exactly suited to his subject. But
although the series, as a whole, was one of the greatest works of
painting ever produced, which (certainly in its kind the most
perfect,) elevating the painter to the same rank as the poet; it
failed, as the poem itself had originally done, to ensure to its
author that immediate share of public favour which was his due, and
which is sure to be attendant upon successful endeavours in those
inferior branches of the art which are more within the range of
public capacity.

"But the fashion or opinion of the day, in matters of taste, is
not always the judgment of posterity; and it cannot be too much
regretted that the principal pictures of the series, at least, have
not been kept together for the future advantage of our artists, and
the gratification of those whose studies might hereafter qualify
them to appreciate their excellence. For be it remembered, by such
persons as might otherwise be too readily induced to undervalue
that which they do not understand, that Sir Joshua Reynolds became,
in the latter part of his life, 'clearly of opinion that a relish
for the higher excellencies of the art is an acquired taste, which
no man ever possessed without long cultivation, great labour, and
attention.'"

VERSES

TO HENRY FUSELI, ESQ. R.A.

ON HIS SERIES OF PICTURES FROM THE POETICAL WORKS OF MILTON.

BY WM. ROSCOE, ESQ.

Spirit of him who wing'd his daring flight
Towards the pure confines of primæval light,
Say, whilst this nether world thy powers confin'd,
Weak child of dust, frail offspring of mankind,
Thy station'd barrier this terrestrial mound,
Th' incumbent vault of heaven thine upward bound,
Thy means the common energies of man,
Thy life a shadow, and thy years a span;
How couldst thou, struggling with opposing Fate,
Burst through the limits of this mortal state?
Thence, soaring high, pursue, with stedfast gaze,
The opening wonders of th' empyreal blaze,
Where countless Seraphs pour, in burning zone,
Concentric glories round th' eternal throne?
Or hear, and hearing live, the dread alarms
Of heavenly war, and Cherubim in arms;
See in th' abyss the proud apostate hurl'd,
And rising into light, the infant World?
Fav'rite of Heaven! 'twas thine, on mortal eyes
To pour these visions, rich with rainbow dyes,
Peopling the void of space with forms unseen,
Rising from being to what might have been!--
Nor he not breathes a portion of thy fire,
Who "bids the pencil answer to the lyre;"
Marks the bright phantoms at their proudest height,
And with determin'd hand arrests their flight;
Bids shadowy forms substantial shape assume,
And heaven's own hues in mortal labours bloom.
For toils like these, whate'er the meed divine,
That glorious meed, my Fuseli, is thine,
Who first to Truth's embodied fulness wrought
The glowing outline of the Poet's thought.
Artist sublime! whose pencil knows to trace
The early wonders of the kindred race!
Not thine to search th' historian's scanty page,
The brief memorial of a fleeting age;
Not thine to call, from Time's surrounding gloom,
High deeds of cultur'd Greece, or conqu'ring Rome;
Not thine, with temporary themes to move,
Of Hope, Aversion, Pity, Rage, or Love.--
Beyond whate'er the Drama's powers can tell,
Beyond the Epic's high, impetuous swell,
Alike by clime and ages unconfined,
Thou strik'st the chords that vibrate on mankind;
Op'st the dread scenes that Heaven suspensive eyed,
A world created, or a world destroy'd;
Recall'st the joys of Eden's happier prime,
Whilst life was yet unconscious of a crime,
Whilst Virtue's self could Passion's glow approve,
And Beauty slumber'd in the arms of Love;
Till, dread reverse! on man's devoted race
Th' insidious serpent work'd the dire disgrace.
Then first, whilst Nature shudder'd with affright,
Of Sin and Death was held th' incestuous rite;
Then first, o'er vanquish'd man, began their reign,
The fiends of Woe, the family of Pain:
Disease the poison'd cup of anguish fills,
And opes the Lazar-house of human ills--
See Frenzy rushes from his burning bed;
See pining Atrophy declines his head;
See mute Despair, that broods on woes unknown,
And Melancholy gaze herself to stone!
Then, pouring forth from Hell's detested bound,
Revenge, and Fraud, and Murder stalk around;
Till opening skies declare th' avenging God,
And Mercy sleeps, whilst Justice waves the rod.
Yet, whilst the bursting deluge from the earth
Sweeps the rebellious brood of giant birth,
One proud survivor rolls his vengeful eyes,
And with last look the living God defies.
But now the waves their silent station keep,
And Vengeance slumbers o'er the mighty deep;
Again, rejoicing o'er the firm fix'd land,
The favour'd Patriarch leads his household band;
With sacred incense bids his altars blaze,
And pours to God the living song of praise.
Thus, as th' immortal Bard his flight explores,
On kindred wing the daring artist soars;
Undazzled shares with him Heaven's brightest glow,
Or penetrates the boundless depths below;
Or on the sloping sun-beam joys to ride,
Or sails amidst the uncreated void;
Imbibes a portion of his sacred flame,
Reflects his genius, and partakes his fame.

ODE

ADDRESSED TO HENRY FUSELI, ESQ. R.A.
ON SEEING ENGRAVINGS FROM HIS DESIGNS,

BY HENRY KIRKE WHITE.

Mighty magician! who on Torneo's brow,
When sullen tempests wrap the throne of night,
Art wont to sit and catch the gleam of light,
That shoots athwart the gloom opaque below,
And listen to the distant death-shriek long,
From lonely mariner foundering in the deep,
Which rises slowly up the rocky steep,
While weird sisters weave the horrid song:
Or when along the liquid sky
Serenely chant the orbs on high,
Dost love to sit in musing trance,
And mark the northern meteor's dance;
(While far below the fitful oar
Flings its faint pauses on the steepy shore,)
And list the music of the breeze,
That sweeps by fits the bending seas;
And often bears with sudden swell
The shipwreck'd sailor's funeral knell,
By the spirits sung, who keep
Their night-watch on the treacherous deep,
And guide the wakeful helms-man's eye
To Helicé in northern sky,
And there, upon the rock inclined,
With mighty visions fill'st the mind,
Such as bound, in magic spell,
Him[75] who grasp'd the gates of Hell,
And bursting Pluto's dark domain,
Held to the day the terrors of his reign.

Genius of horror and romantic awe,
Whose eye explores the secrets of the deep,
Whose power can bid the rebel fluids creep,
Can force the inmost soul to own its law;
Who shall now, sublimest spirit,
Who shall now thy wand inherit,
From him,[76] thy darling child, who best
Thy shuddering images express'd?
Sullen of soul, and stern, and proud,
His gloomy spirit spurn'd the crowd;
And now he lays his aching head
In the dark mansion of the silent dead.

Mighty magician! long thy wand has lain
Buried beneath the unfathomable deep;
And, oh! for ever must its efforts sleep,
May none the mystic sceptre e'er regain?
Oh, yes, 'tis his!--thy other son;
He throws thy dark-wrought tunic on,
Fuesslin waves thy wand,--again they rise,
Again thy wildering forms salute our ravish'd eyes;
Him didst thou cradle on the dizzy steep,
Where round his head the volley'd lightnings flung,
And the loud winds that round his pillow rung,
Woo'd the stern infant to the arms of Sleep,
Or on the highest top of Teneriffe
Seated the fearless boy, and bade him look
Where far below the weather-beaten skiff
On the gulf-bottom of the ocean strook.
Thou mark'dst him drink with ruthless ear
The death-sob, and, disdaining rest,
Thou saw'st how danger fired his breast,
And in his young hand couch'd the visionary spear.
Then, Superstition, at thy call,
She bore the boy to Odin's Hall,
And set before his awe-struck sight
The savage feast and spectred fight;
And summon'd from the mountain tomb
The ghastly warrior son of gloom,
His fabled Runic rhymes to sing,
While fierce Hresvelger flapp'd his wing;
Thou show'dst the trains the shepherd sees,
Laid on the stormy Hebrides,
Which on the mists of evening gleam,
Or crowd the foaming desert stream;
Lastly, her storied hand she waves,
And lays him in Florentian caves;
There milder fables, lovelier themes
Enwrap his soul in heavenly dreams;
There Pity's lute arrests his ear,
And draws the half-reluctant tear;
And now at noon of night he roves
Along th' embowering moon-light groves,
And as from many a cavern'd dell
The hollow wind is heard to swell,
He thinks some troubled spirit sighs;
And as upon the turf he lies,
Where sleeps the silent beam of night,
He sees below the gliding sprite,
And hears in Fancy's organs sound
Aërial music warbling round.

Taste lastly comes, and smooths the whole,
And breathes her polish o'er his soul;
Glowing with wild, yet chasten'd heat,
The wonderous work is now complete.

The Poet dreams:--the shadow flies,
And fainting fast its image dies.
But lo! the Painter's magic force
Arrests the phantom's fleeting course;
It lives--it lives--the canvass glows,
And tenfold vigour o'er it flows.
The Bard beholds the work achieved,
And as he sees the shadow rise,
Sublime before his wondering eyes,
Starts at the image his own mind conceived.

H. K. White.

* * * * *

The following verses were sent to me anonymously, by the post; as they shew the author to be well acquainted with the works of Mr. Fuseli, I trust the reader will think with me, there needs no apology for inserting them in this place. It is conjectured that they are from the pen of a young lady, who is alike distinguished for personal attractions and amiability, as for her taste and knowledge; the daughter of a gentleman who has been frequently mentioned in this Memoir.

A VISION.

Last night I sunk to sleep's soft power resign'd,
When wizard Fancy's wand, before my mind,
Conjur'd in dreams a visionary shew,
That seem'd with vivid Truth's warm tints to glow.
By young Favonius' fragrant pinions fann'd, 5
Amidst Elysian groves I seem'd to stand;
Here, when th' immortal spirit quits its clay,
The sons of Genius dwell in endless day:
Not they who empires founded, or o'erthrew,
Who conquer'd worlds, or who discover'd new; 10
Not Philip's headlong son, not Scipio's foe,
Nor Julius, guilty of his country's woe;
In these fair fields the scourges of mankind
Reap'd not the meed to virtuous fame assign'd.
Here Music sweeps her lyre; her heav'nly lay 15
The Passions hear, enraptur'd, and obey:
Here dwells th' immortal Virgin Poesy,
A noble wildness flashing in her eye;
Inspired Bards around the Goddess throng,
And catch the accents flowing from her tongue. 20
Entranced, whilst gazing on the blissful scene,
I mark'd a Deity of matchless mien,
Her port majestic, in each motion grace,
Fairer she shone than nymphs of mortal race:
I recognis'd the Sov'reign of that art, 25
Which through the eye finds entrance to the heart;
Plac'd on an eminence, she sat alone,
Below her vot'ries press'd around her throne.
Great Vinci first, with greater Angelo,
Sublime expression frowning on his brow, 30
Led on the daring Tuscan band severe:
Next Raphael with calm dignity drew near,
Who join'd to grand conception just design,
Conducting the majestic Roman line;
Then Titian with a gay and brilliant throng, 35
Sprung from the sea-born city, mov'd along;
Corregio in succession next pass'd by,
Leading the graceful School of Lombardy.
A genius vast, original, and bold,
The numerous band of Holland's sons controll'd; 40
And with his Flemish train, of pomp profuse,
The gorgeous Rubens dazzled e'en the Muse.
In order due arranged on either hand,
Beside the silent Queen they take their stand;
Before whose throne Helvetia stood, to claim 45
For an aspiring votary of Fame
Admittance to these realms:--"O Muse," she cried,
"The Master's works contemplate, and decide."
While speaking thus, her wand on high she rear'd,
And lo! a train of pictur'd groups appear'd; 50
Heroic phantoms seem'd to start from night,
And forms of beauty floated 'fore my sight;
From ages past reflected scenes arose,
Of human passions, and eternal woes.
There I beheld pourtray'd the lofty story 55
Of Man's first fall, and Satan's tarnish'd glory.
There rose the spectre Prophet from the tomb,
To Saul announcing his impending doom.
Of Ilion's tale a vision seem'd to speak,
And the long wand'rings of the prudent Greek. 60
There Eriphyle bleeds upon the ground,
While Furies fly t' avenge the impious wound.
In horror plunged, deplor'd Jocasta's son
The fated crimes he strove in vain to shun.
Here stalk'd the shadow of the murder'd Dane; 65
Appall'd, methought I saw th' astonish'd Thane
Hail'd by each wither'd hag;--From Helle's tide
Th' enamour'd youth rush'd to his Sestian bride.
There, lost to hope, the lovers mourn for ever!
Whom not th' infernal whirlwind's rage can sever. 70
The traitor Guelph, too, 'midst his famish'd brood,
Expects in Death th' eternal feast of blood.
In knightly guise th' heroic Virgin's arm
Redeems fair Amoret from magic charm:
And Arthur slept; who woke but to deplore 75
The Beauty lov'd for ever, seen no more.
On the aërial portraiture, amaz'd,
In pleasing wonder lost, intent I gaz'd;
As Sorrow, Guilt, Despair, the scenes express'd,
Awe, Terror, Pity, sway'd by turns my breast; 80
When, suddenly, I saw the heaven-born Maid
Of sacred numbers, from a neighbouring glade,
'Midst the great masters of immortal song,
Toward the throne of Painting move along.
Now blind no more Mæonides, and he, 85
The daring Bard of Man's apostasy,
With buskin'd Sophocles, and lofty Gray,
Spenser, sweet master of the moral lay;
Severely grand, the Florentine sublime,
And Avon's Bard, unmatch'd by age or clime, 90
All crowd the visionary scenes t' admire,
Pleas'd that such scenes their genius could inspire.
While onward the poetic Virgin press'd,
And her who reign'd o'er Painting, thus address'd:--
"O Muse! who charmest silently, attend 95
To Poesy, thy Sister, and thy friend.
No vot'ry of that art o'er which you reign,
The nobler walks could ever yet attain,
Unless I urged him proudly to aspire,
And kindled in his breast poetic fire. 100
Belgia, without my aid, may tint the scene
With golden hues, and mimic Nature's green;
Immortalize the Peasant and his can,
Without selection, imitating Man;
Or through transparent veins life's tide may gush, 105
Tinging Venetian canvass with the blush
Of glowing Nature; uninspir'd by me,
The Rose of Merian may deceive the bee;
At Rembrandt's touch the shining robe may flow,
The diamond sparkle, or the ruby glow; 110
But he whom I inspire disdains such praise;
The soul's emotions, ardent, he displays;
Fearless he wields Invention's magic wand,
Sprites, fays, and spectres rise at his command;
Unveil'd, the Passions at his will appear, 115
E'en Heavenly essences he dares t' unsphere;
As, from Promethean touch each image glows,
And what the Poet thought the Painter shews.
While 'midst Helvetia's native hills, before
This foster-son of Britain sought her shore, 120
I mark'd the future promise in the child;
The fire of genius, vigorous, and wild,
Sparkled in infancy, in manhood blaz'd;
You won his youthful fancy, as he gaz'd,
Th' enthusiast strove your favour to attain, 125
And I propitious, smil'd, and pointed to your Fane.
On Leban's brow the cedar tow'ring high
Boasts not the lowly flow'ret's gaudy dye;
Others may in the humbler parts excel,
But, Queen, did ever artist think so well? 130
Is not the highest merit of your art,
T' exalt the fancy, and to touch the heart?
Then welcome the poetic Painter, Muse,
Nor to my fav'rite deathless fame refuse!"
She ceased; nor vainly pled the Heavenly fair; 135
Th' assenting Muse approv'd her sister's prayer:
"Enter these realms," she cried; "th' award be thine,
Amidst the sons of Genius here to shine,
Where Envy's tongue no longer shall prevail:
Hail Fuseli! Immortal artist, hail!" 140
Resounding acclamations, as she spoke,
Burst on my ear, I started, and awoke.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Those who may be curious to see Fuseli's early style in German, may consult the Life of Chevalier Hudlinger, in the preface to the translation of "Mengs' thoughts on Beauty;" and also a letter "from Switzerland to Winkelmann;" both of which were written by him without alteration, although they bear his father's signature.

[2] At this time, Rösel's "Insects' Banquet" was his favourite study.

[3] The public are indebted for many of the particulars of Fuseli's early life to this gentleman, who died in 1816, and was a canon of Zurich.

[4] Fuseli ever considered Richardson a man of great genius, and one who had a key to the human heart, and was very indignant, in the latter period of his life, with a gentleman who spoke contemptuously of Clarissa Harlowe. This person said in his presence, "No one now reads the works of Richardson." "Do they not?" said Fuseli, "then by G----d they ought. If people are now tired of old novels, I should be glad to know your criterion of books. If Richardson is old, Homer is obsolete. Clarissa, to me, is pathetic--is exquisite; I never read it without crying like a child."

[5] "The Frank Intelligencer."

[6] The late Mr. Henry Füessli, of Zurich, from whom the writer has received much information. Just as this Memoir was completed, this gentleman closed his mortal career. He died on the 1st of May, 1829, in his seventy-fifth year. Mr. Füessli was a landscape painter, and held the honourable situation of President of the Society of Artists at Zurich. He had been labouring for some years under occasional attacks of asthma, and died therefrom much regretted.

[7] Mrs. Fuseli died at Zurich, 11 April, 1759, aged 44 years. She was a woman of a most amiable disposition, and respected by all who knew her.

[8] "Do but the seventh part of what thou canst."

[9] This charter, however, was never granted; the artists received the patronage of the King, and were by his command associated under the title of "The Royal Academy." Among its early members we find the names of Sir Joshua Reynolds, Gainsborough, and Wilson, who for talent in the several departments of the art in which they practised, have rendered their names immortal.

[10] Fuseli wrote in pencil, under this figure, "Fuseli amor mio."--Mr. Ottley saw this still remaining in the year 1792, when he was at Bologna, and added "anche amor mio."--W. Y. Ottley.

[11] This was a satirical drawing of the Painters in England at that time.

[12] Doctor Armstrong died in September 1779.

[13] Mr. Füessli died at Zurich the 6th of May, 1781.

[14] I beg here to acknowledge my gratitude to Mr. Roscoe for having allowed me to peruse the letters which he had received from Fuseli during a period of more than forty years, from which I have gleaned much useful information, and have only to regret, I am sure, in common with every reader of this memoir, that he did not accede to my wishes of being the biographer of his friend.

[15] The omissions in this and the succeeding letter, where asterisks are placed, relate only to the names of subscribers to the translation of Homer.

[16] Samuel Johnson.

[17] Andrasi pygmaioisi phonon kai kêra pherousai;
Iliad, iii. v. 6.

[18] Tôn auth' Hyrtakidês êrch' Asios, orchamos andrôn
Asios Hyrtakidês.----
Iliad, ii. v. 837-8.

[19] Iliad, v. v. 722-31.

[20] Iliad, xi. v. 15, seq. Conf. Iliad, ii. v. 42, seq.

[21] Iliad, xiv. v. 170, seq.

[22] Iliad, xviii. v. 478-607.

[23] Iliad, iv. v. 105-111.

[24] Iliad, ii. v. 101-8.

[25] Clarke, who has preserved this name in his marginal version, contends strenuously, and with great reason, that Outis ought not to be translated; and in a passage which he quotes from the _Acta Eruditorum_, we see much fault found with Giphanius and other interpreters of Homer, for having translated it. It is certain that, in Homer, the word is declined, not as outis -tinos, which signifies no man, but as outis -tidos, making outin in the accusative, consequently, as a proper name. It is sufficient that the ambiguity was such as to deceive the friends of the Cyclops. Outis is said by some (perhaps absurdly) to have been a name given to Ulysses, on account of his having larger ears than common.

[26] 'Outis as a _name_, could only denote him who bore it; but as a _noun_, it signifies, _no man_, which accounts sufficiently for the ludicrous mistake of his brethren.'

[27] _Vos_, the admirable translator of the Odyss. in German hexameters, well aware that the question here lay not between grammar and licence, puerility of conceit, or dignity of fiction, but between sense and nonsense, without deigning to notice the contest of commentators, has rendered outis, by "Niemand," in the first instance, and afterwards varies it with "Keiner."

"Niemand ist mein Name; denn Niemand nennen mich alle.

* * * * *

Niemand würgt mich, ihr Freund', arglistig! und Keiner gewaltsam!
Wenn dir denn keiner gewalt anthut."--

[28] The first, in PYTH. A. v. 28.
gan te kai ponton kat' amaimaketon

The second, in PYTH. R. v. 57-8.
Pempse kasignêtan menei?
Thuoisan amaimaketô;

where the scholiast explains it by akatamachêtos, and the notes deduce it from a compound of the A epitatikê and maimaô: a derivation more probable than that of our translator from hama, and the Doric makos; unless we suppose that Homer made use for his substantives, of the Ionic, and for his compound adjectives, of the Doric dialects!

[29] Plin. L. xxxiii. c. 4. 'Electro auctoritas, Homero teste qui Menelai regiam, auro, electro, argento, ebore fulgere tradit.' Helen, he continues, consecrated a cup of electrum at Lindos, 'mammæ suæ mensura,' and adds, 'electri natura ad lucernarum lumina clarius argento splendere.'

[30] Tên de met' Alkmênên IDON----Kai Megarên (_sc._ IDON) kreiontos hyperthymoio thygatra Tên echen Amphitryônos hyios.----

[31] Bayle is mistaken in supposing that the marriage of Lorenzo took place in 1471. Speaking of Machiavelli, he says, Il ne marque pas l'année de ce mariage, ce qui est un grand défaut dans un écrivain d'histoire; mais on peut recueillir de sa narration que ce fut l'an 1471. _Dict. Hist. art. Politien._ In correcting Bayle, Menckenius falls into a greater error, and places this event in 1472. _Menk. in vitâ Pol._ p. 48.

[32] 'How grateful to our sensations, how distinct to our imagination appear the

"Speluncæ, vivique lacus, ac frigida Tempe,
Mugitusque boûm, mollesque sub arbore somni."

[33] 'Published for the first time at the close of the present work.'

[34] If Virgil has given us a highly-finished personification of Rumour, if Horace speaks of his _atra Cura_, if Lucretius present us with an awful picture of Superstition, their portraits are so vague as scarcely to communicate any discriminate idea, and are characterized by their operation and effects, rather than by their poetical insignia. Of the ancient Roman authors, perhaps there is no one that abounds in these personifications more than the tragedian Seneca; yet what idea do we form of Labour, when we are told that

"Labor exoritur durus, et omnes
Agitat curas, aperitque domos:"

'Or, of Hope or Fear, from the following passage:

"Turbine magni, spes solicitæ
Urbibus errant, trepidique metus."

'The personification of Hope, by Tibullus, (Lib. II. Eleg. 6.) is scarcely worthy of that charming author; and if he has been happier in his description of Sleep, (Lib. I. Eleg. 1.) it is still liable to the objections before mentioned.'

[35] 'It is commonly understood that the idea of a systematic arrangement, for securing to states, within the same sphere of political action, the possession of their respective territories, and the continuance of existing rights, is of modern origin, having arisen among the Italian States, in the fifteenth century. _Robertson's Hist. of Ch. V._ v. i. sec. 2.--But Mr. Hume has attempted to shew that this system, if not theoretically understood, was at least practically adopted by the ancient states of Greece, and the neighbouring governments. _Essays_, v. 1. _part 2. Essay 7._--In adjusting the extent to which these opinions may be adopted, there is no great difficulty. Wherever mankind have formed themselves into societies, (and history affords no instance of their being found in any other,) the conduct of a tribe, or a nation, has been marked by a general will: and states, like individuals, have had their antipathies and predilections, their jealousies, and their fears. The powerful have endeavoured to oppress the weak, and the weak have sought refuge from the powerful, in their mutual union. Notwithstanding the great degree of civilization that obtained among the Grecian States, their political conduct seems to have been directed upon no higher principle: conquests were pursued as opportunity offered, and precautions for safety were delayed till the hour of danger arrived. The preponderating mass of the Roman Republic attracted into it's vortex whatever was opposed to it's influence: and the violent commotions of the middle ages, by which that immense body was again broken into new forms, and impelled in vague and eccentric directions, postponed to a late period the possibility of regulated action. The transactions in Italy, during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, bear indeed a strong resemblance to those which took place among the Grecian States: but it was not till nearly the close of the latter century that a system of general security and pacification was clearly developed, and precautions taken for insuring its continuance. Simple as this idea may now appear, yet it must be considered, that, before the adoption of it, the minds of men, and consequently the maxims of states, must have undergone an important change: views of aggrandizement were to be repressed; war was to be prosecuted, not for the purpose of conquest, but of security; and, above all, an eye was to be found that could discern, and a mind that could comprehend, so extended an object.'

[36] 'Objects of horror and disgust, the cold detail of deliberate barbarity, can never be proper subjects of art, because they exclude the efforts of genius. Even the powers of Shakspeare are annihilated in the butcheries of Titus Andronicus. Yet the reputation of some of the most celebrated Italian painters has been principally founded on this kind of representation. "Ici," says M. Tenhove, "c'est S. Etienne qu'on lapide, et dont je crains que la cervelle ne rejaillisse sur moi; plus loin, c'est S. Barthélémi tout sanglant, tout écorché; je compte ses muscles et ses nerfs. Vingt fleches ont criblé Sebastien. L'horrible tête du Baptiste est dans ce plat. Le gril de S. Laurent sert de pendant à la chaudière de S. Jean. Je recule d'horreur."--_Mem. Gen. lib._ x. May it not be doubted whether spectacles of this kind, so frequent in places devoted to religious purposes, may not have had a tendency rather to keep alive a spirit of ferocity and resentment, than to inculcate those mild and benevolent principles in which the essence of religion consists?'

[37] Our author has given ample opportunities to Mr. Tenhove, a Dutch writer on nearly the same subject with his own, to display a disparity of manner singularly contrasting with his own sober and authentic page. Mr. T. is apparently a wit and a man of feeling, but at all times ready to sacrifice matter to whim, or to substitute assertion for proof: thus, in talking of the celebrated cameo representing the punishment of Marsyas, once the property of Lorenzo, he tells us, that of old it belonged to Nero, who used it as the seal of his death-warrants, and who probably assumed the attitude of the Apollo engraved on it, whilst he assisted at the flogging of one Menedemus, a singer who had excited his jealousy; a tale partly invented, partly perverted from Suetonius, who tells something similar of Caligula and Apelles. In another place, (p. 178, note b.) after ridiculing with somewhat prolix propriety the Florentine custom of substituting, even in grave writing, the nicknames of their countrymen to their real ones, he adds, that it is a custom laughed at and disapproved by the rest of Italian writers, though undoubtedly he had read of Cola di Rienzi, Massaniello, Titta Borghese, Giorgione, Il Tintoretto, Frà Bastiano, and Titian himself. "Pauperis esset numerare pecus."

[38] Giorgio Vasari and Ascanio Condivi. Our author, though a patient admirer of the first, is offended at the "insufferable minuteness" of the second. It would be unfair to consider Condivi as the literary competitor of Vasari, yet great respect is to be paid to a narrative composed under the immediate eye of Michaelagnolo himself. His "Otto scudi al mese poco più o meno," whether they reflect much or little honour on the liberality of Lorenzo, have at least a right to rank with the "quattro mazzi, che erano quaranti libbre da candele di sego," which, the knight of Arezzo informs us, he sent as a present to Michaelagnolo. Vasari Vita di M. A. B. tom. vi. p. 328.

[39] This lady is called Mrs. Wollstonecraft, instead of Mary Wollstonecraft, throughout this Narrative, in conformity to the memoirs which have hitherto appeared of her.

[40] This and subsequent quotations respecting Mrs. Wollstonecraft are taken from her letters to Fuseli.

[41] "Memoirs of the Author of a Vindication of the Rights of Woman, by William Godwin."

[42] Mrs. Bysshe Shelly.

[43] Mr. Meyer was a painter of reputation, both in miniature and enamel.

[44] La Terribil Via, applied by Agostino Caracci to Michael Angelo.

[45] This alludes to Mr. Fuseli's proposals for a gallery filled with pictures painted by him from subjects taken from Milton's Paradise Lost.

[46] This elegant translation, in verse, was published under the title of "The Nurse."

[47] Sir Thomas Lawrence, in a discourse which he delivered as President of the Royal Academy, on the 10th December 1823, says, in reference to the Milton Gallery, "the many sublime designs by the great author of this, whose unapproached invention and high attainments enforce this tribute to living genius."

[48] For an elucidation of this passage, refer to Suetonius, edit. Burmanni, v. 2. p. 171.

[49] A name which Fuseli gave to a sprained knee.

[50] This alludes to a contest which occurred on the way to Paris: the "inquisitive traveller," Mr. Farington, was disposed to sleep at St. Juste; the rest of the party desired to push on. Mr. Moore, who had the regulation of the journey, decided the question by ordering out the horses.

[51] Fuseli made this observation not only in reference to the physiognomic cast of David's countenance, but his face was also disfigured by a hare-lip.

[52] The writer of this saw the picture in the year 1779, and made observations on the spot.

[53] In my Lectures.

[54] The British Institution was opened for the first exhibition, on the 18th of January, 1806.

[55] A name by which he generally designated the amiable and ingenious Tiberius Cavallo, a gentleman well known for his numerous and able works on Natural Philosophy, who was also on a visit to Mr. Rackett at this time: at whose hospitable house he usually passed three or four of the summer months.

[56] Mr. Johnson made Cowper a present of one thousand pounds over and above their agreement.

[57] The passage is thus translated by Franklin:--

-----"A dreadful clap
Of thunder shook the ground; the virgins trembled,
And clinging fearful round their father's knees,
Beat their sad breasts and wept."
Sophocles Oedipus Coloneus, Act. 5, Scene 1.

[58] Professor Bonnycastle was born at Aylesbury, in Buckinghamshire, in January 1752, and died at Woolwich, 15th of May, 1821.

[59] While these pages were passing through the press, Europe and the fine arts have been bereaved of the splendid talents of Sir Thomas Lawrence. This gentleman died, after an illness of a few days continuance, on the 7th of January, 1830, in the sixty-first year of his age.

Shortly after Sir Thomas's arrival in London, Fuseli saw "the future promise" in the youth, and was therefore gratified in making remarks upon his portraits for his improvement. This kind notice, from a man whom Sir Thomas held in the highest esteem for talents and various acquirements, made a deep impression on his mind: he sought an intimacy with him, which, upon more mature knowledge of the individual, ripened into the closest friendship. The world is now deprived of these two great artists, and there can be no other than feelings of deep regret for their loss. These, however, with regard to myself, are not unmingled with those of satisfaction, when I consider the many happy hours passed in their society, and that this pleasure was enjoyed for more than twenty years.

At the death of Mr. West, in the year 1820, Fuseli was among the most forward of the Academicians to propose that his friend, Sir Thomas, who was then on the Continent of Europe, should fill the chair. This honour he felt due to him, not only for his unrivalled powers as a portrait painter, but for the elegance of his mind and the urbanity of his manners. Few men had so pleasing an address; and fewer the happy method of making this acceptable to the particular persons with whom he conversed.

Although Sir Thomas Lawrence was not, in the usual acceptation of the word, a scholar, being unskilled in the dead languages; yet he was well versed in English literature, had a fine taste for poetry, and I have heard him recite some lines of his own composition, (full of merit) with great taste, feeling, and judgment.

Sir Thomas is known to the public chiefly as a portrait painter,--the only lucrative branch of the art in England. In this, his style was truly English. In the countenances of his men we see faithful likenesses; sometimes certainly given with some degree of flattery; but he was always the more intent in shewing "the mind's construction in the face." In his portraits of heroes there is always dignity; in those of statesmen, depth of thought, with firmness of character. In the delineation of females, in which he chiefly shone, beauty and delicacy were combined with great taste of attitudes, and which was heightened by the elegance and disposition of their drapery. His backgrounds were always appropriate to the portraits; and when his pencil was employed on large pictures, these were introduced with great taste and power.

The drawings of the human face in black lead pencil, frequently heightened with a little colour, which he sometimes made to present to his friends, exceed all praise, for truth, delicacy, and fine finish.

Had public encouragement gone hand in hand with the powers of the man, we should, no doubt, have possessed some fine epic and dramatic subjects from his pencil. As a proof of this, I may again be permitted to advert to the sublime picture of "Satan calling up his Legions," which was purchased by the late Duke of Norfolk, and came again into the possession of Sir Thomas, when his Grace's effects were sold: here we see an epic subject of the highest class treated with invention, great power of drawing, and brilliancy of colouring. This, with "Homer reciting his Verses to the Greeks," are the only historical pictures from his pencil that I am acquainted with, and perhaps the only ones known. In this advanced stage of my work, I may be excused for giving only a brief sketch of my friend, whose loss every admirer of the fine arts in Europe deeply deplores;--a man whose name will go down to posterity coupled with those of the great masters who have preceded him in the pictorial art; and as the present high appreciation of his merits does not rest upon adventitious circumstances, time will rather add to than detract from his fame.

[60] In this particular, the writer is in error, as Dr. Holland was kind enough to give his gratuitous attendance, at the earnest request of Sir Thomas Lawrence.

[61] The passage is as follows:--

"Olim quod vulpes ægroto cauta leoni
Respondit, referam: quia me vestigia terrent
Omnia te adversum spectantia, nulla retrorsum."
Horatii Flacci Epistolarum, 1. i.

It is thus imitated by Pope:--

"Faith I shall give the answer Reynard gave;
I cannot like, dread Sir, your royal cave;
_Because I see, by all the tracks about,
Full many a beast goes in, but none comes out_."

[62] Among the more recent acquaintances of Fuseli, there was no one for whom he entertained a higher regard than for Mr. Samuel Cartwright; he has said to me, "Cartwright is a friendly, liberal man, and has the mind of a gentleman."

[63] At this time, his age could not be accurately ascertained: he was in his eighty-fifth year, having completed his eighty-fourth on the 7th of February preceding his death.

[64] At this time, his age could not be accurately ascertained: he was in his eighty-fifth year, having completed his eighty-fourth on the 7th of February preceding his death.

[65] Fuseli made this remark in reference to the capital employed, and the encouragement given to the Slave Trade by some of the merchants of Liverpool, and the consequent wealth which was derived by many from this traffic. Every one who is acquainted with the parliamentary history of this country knows the arduous struggle made for its abolition, and the part which Mr. Roscoe took, when member of parliament for Liverpool, to effect this measure. In these efforts he was cordially joined by many of his intelligent and liberal townsmen.

[66] This and other remarks on the pictures of Sir Joshua Reynolds, were written at Hastings, in the year 1813, shortly after the first exhibition of Sir Joshua's works at the British Institution, and sent thence by Fuseli in letters to Sir Thomas Lawrence.

[67] The passage is thus rendered by Cowper:

"My temper, Sir, inclines not me t' extol
Or to depreciate much, or much admire,--
Full well I recollect thee as thou wert."

[68] First part of Shakspeare's "King Henry the Fourth," Act 3rd.

[69] These statues, which have been named Castor and Pollux by some, (and by an absurd anachronism, Alexander, by others,) were considered by Fuseli to be the work of Phidias, and designed for a monument. He was of opinion that they are duplicate figures; and the subject, "Achilles curbing and addressing his steed, and astonished at the answer of his prophetic courser."

[70] This picture is lost: his celebrated work of "Sin pursued by Death," being painted over it. On this canvass there are no less than three finished pictures.

[71] Darwin.

[72] See Pilkington's Dictionary, by Fuseli, second edition, page 191.

[73] They are now the property of the Countess of Guilford.

[74] This character of Fuseli was written a short time previously to his death.

[75] Dante.

[76] Ibid.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.

LONDON: PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, Dorset Street, Fleet Street.

* * * * *

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

1. Accents and breathings in the Greek quotations have been left unchanged (both are included somewhat at random). The one exception is the rough breathing before Andrasi in footnote 17, which should be a smooth breathing, and has been corrected.

2. Obvious typos have been silently corrected.

3. Alternative spellings have been left unchanged. This includes words in poetry such as "ravish'd" for "ravished", words sometimes hyphenated, and the various spellings of painters' names (there are at least four different spellings of Michelangelo, and three of chiar'oscuro, for example).

4. Chapter headings (in chapters II, VIII, XIII and XV) vary slightly from the wording of the Table of Contents. These variants have been left unchanged, with one exception: the date 1703 in the heading for Chapter II has been corrected to 1763.

5. Words in italics are marked _like this_.

6. The position of the apostrophe in Italian quotations varies, but no changes have been made.