Travels in France during the years 1814-1815 by Patrick Fraser Tytler (beach read book .txt) 📖

Without the softness of shading or the harmony of colour which Correggio possessed, the works of Raphael possess a higher character, and aim at the expression of a sublimer feeling, than those of any other artist whom modern Europe has produced. Like all his brethren, he has often been misled from the real object of of his art, and tried, in the energy of passion, or the confused expression of varied figures, to multiply the effect which his composition might produce. Like all the rest, he has failed in effecting what the constitution of the human mind renders impossible, and in this very failure, warned every succeeding age of the vanity of the attempt which his transcendent genius was unable to effect. It is this fundamental error that destroys the effect, even of his finest pieces; it is this, combined with the unapproachable nature of the presence which it reveals, that has rendered the Transfiguration itself a chaos of genius rather than a model of ideal beauty; nor will it, we hope, be deemed a presumptuous excess, if we venture to express our sentiments in regard to this great author, since it is from his own works alone that we have derived the means of appreciating his imperfections.

It is in his smaller pieces that the genuine character of Raphael's paintings is to be seen—in the figure of St Michael subduing the demon; in the beautiful tenderness of the Virgin and Child; in the unbroken harmony of the Holy Family; in the wildness and piety of the infant St John;—scenes, in which all the objects of the picture combine for the preservation of one uniform character, and where the native fineness of his mind appears undisturbed by the display of temporary passion, or the painful distraction of varied suffering.

There are no pictures of the English school in the Louvre, for the arms of France never prevailed in our island. From the splendid character, however, which it early assumed under the distinguished guidance of Sir Joshua Reynolds, and from the high and philosophical principles which he at first laid down for the government of the art, there is every reason to believe that it ultimately will rival the celebrity of foreign genius; And it is in this view that the continuance of the gallery of the Louvre was principally to be wished by the English nation—that the English artists might possess, so near their own country, so great a school for composition and design; that the imperfections of foreign schools might enlighten the views of English genius; and that the conquests of the French arms, by transferring the remains of ancient taste to these northern shores, might give greater facilities to the progress of our art, than can exist when they are restored to their legitimate possessors.

The great object, then, of all the modern schools of historical painting, seems to have been, the delineation of an affecting scene or interesting occurrence; they have endeavoured to tell a story by the variety of incidents in a single picture; and seized, for the most part, the moment when passion was at its greatest height, or suffering appeared in its most excruciating form. The general character, accordingly, of the school, is the expression of passion or violent suffering; and in the prosecution of this object, they have endeavoured to exhibit it under all its aspects, and display all the effects which it could possibly produce on the human form, by the different figures which they have introduced. While this is the general character of the whole, there are of course numerous exceptions; and many of its greatest painters seem, in the representation of single figures, or in the composition of smaller groups, to have had in view the expression of less turbulent affections; to have aimed at the display of settled emotion, or permanent feeling, and to have excluded every thing from their composition which was not in unison with this predominant expression.

The Sculpture Gallery, which contains 220 remains of ancient statuary, marks, in the most decided manner, the different objects to which this noble art was applied in ancient times. Unlike the paintings of modern Europe, their figures are almost uniformly at rest; they exclude passion or violent suffering from their design; and the moment which they select is not that in which a particular or transient emotion may be displayed, but in which the settled character of mind may be expressed. With the two exceptions of the Laocoon and the Fighting Gladiator, there are none of the statues in the Louvre which are not the representation of the human figure in a state of repose; and the expression which the finest possess, is invariably that permanent expression which has resulted from the habitual frame and character of mind. Their figures seem to belong to a higher class of beings than that in which we are placed; they indicate a state in which passion, anxiety, and emotion are no more; and where the unruffled repose of mind has moulded the features into the perfect expression of the mental character. Even the countenance of the Venus de Medicis, the most beautiful which it has ever entered into the mind of man to conceive, and of which no copy gives the slightest idea, bears no trace of emotion, and none of the marks of human feeling; it is the settled expression of celestial beauty, and even the smile on her lip is not the fleeting smile of temporary joy, but the lasting expression of that heavenly feeling which sees in all around it the grace and loveliness which belongs to itself alone. It approaches nearer to that character which sometimes marks the countenance of female beauty; when death has stilled the passions of the world; but it is not the cold expression of past character which survives the period of mortal dissolution; it is the living expression of present existence, radiant with the beams of immortal life, and breathing the air of eternal happiness.

The paintings of Raphael convey the most perfect idea of earthly beauty; and they denote the expression of all that is finest and most elevated in the character of the female mind. But there is a "human meaning in their eye," and they bear the marks of that anxiety and tenderness which belong to the relations of present existence. The Venus displays the same beauty, freed from the cares which existence has produced; and her lifeless eye-balls gaze upon the multitude which surround her, as on a scene fraught only with the expression of universal joy.

In another view, the Apollo and the Venus appear to have been intended by the genius of antiquity, as expressive of the character of mind which distinguishes the different sexes; and in the expression of this character, they have exhausted all which it is possible for human imagination to produce upon the subject. The commanding air, and advanced step, of the Apollo, exhibit Man in his noblest aspect, as triumphing over the evils of physical nature, and restraining the energy of instinctive passion by the high dominion of moral power: the averted eyes and retiring grace of the Venus, are expressive of the modesty, gentleness, and submission, which form the most beautiful features of the female character.

Not equal, as their sex not equal seemed,
For valour He, and contemplation, formed,
For beauty She, and sweet attractive grace,
He for God only, She for God in Him.

These words were said of our first parents by our greatest poet, after the influence of a pure religion had developed the real nature of the female character, and determined the place which woman was to hold in the scale of nature; but the idea had been expressed in a still finer manner two thousand years before, by the sculptors of antiquity; and amidst all the degradation of ancient manners, the prophetic genius of Grecian taste contemplated that ideal perfection in the character of the sexes, which was destined to form the boundary of human progress in the remotest ages of human improvement.

The Apollo strikes a stranger with all its divine grandeur on the first aspect; subsequent examination can add nothing to the force of the impression which is then received; The Venus produces at first less effect, but gains upon the mind at every renewal, till it rivets the affections even more than the greatness of its unequalled rival—emblematic of the charm of female excellence, which, if it excites less admiration at first than the loftier features of manly character, is destined to acquire a deeper influence, and lay the foundation of more indelible affection.

The Dying Gladiator is perhaps, after the two which we have mentioned, the finest statue which the Louvre contains. The moment chosen is finely adapted for that expression of ideal beauty, which may be produced even in a subject naturally connected with feelings of pain. It is not the moment of energy or struggling, when the frame is convulsed with the exertion it is making, or the countenance is deformed by the tumult of passion; it is the moment of expiring nature, when the figure is relaxed by the weakness of decay, and the mind is softened by the approach of death; the moment when the ferocity of combat is forgotten in the extinction of the interest which it had excited, when every unsocial passion is stilled by the weakness of exhausted nature, and the mind, in the last moments of life, is fraught with finer feelings than had belonged to the character of previous existence. It is a moment similar to that in which Tasso has so beautifully described the change in Clorinda's mind, after she had been mortally wounded by the hand of Tancred, but in which he was enabled to give her the inspiration of a greater faith, and the charity of a more gentle religion:—

Amico h'ai vinto: io te perdon. Perdona
Tu ancora, al corpo no che nulla pave
All'alma si: deh per lei prega; e dona
Battesme a me, ch'ogni mia colpa lave;
In queste voci languide risuona
Un non so che di flebile e soave
Ch'al cor gli scende, ed ogni sdegno ammorza,
Egli occhi a lagrimar gl'invoglia e sforza.

The greater statues of antiquity were addressed to the worshippers in their temples; they were intended to awaken the devotion of all classes of citizens—to be felt and judged by all mankind. They were intended to express characters superior to common nature, and they still express them. They are free, therefore, from all the peculiarities of national taste; they are purified from all the peculiarities of local circumstances; they have been rescued from that inevitable degradation to which art is uniformly exposed, by taste being confined to a limited society; they have assumed, in consequence, that general character, which might suit the universal feelings of our nature, and that permanent expression which might speak to the hearts of men through every succeeding age. The admiration, accordingly, for those works of art, has been undiminished by the lapse of time; they excite the same feelings at the present time, as when they came fresh from the hand of the Grecian artist, and are regarded by all nations with the same veneration on the banks of the Seine, as when they sanctified the temples of Athens, or adorned the gardens of Rome.

Even the rudest nations seem to have felt the force of this impression. The Hungarians and the Cossacks, as we ourselves have frequently seen, during the stay of the allied armies in Paris, ignorant of the name or the celebrity of those works of art, seemed yet to take a delight in the survey of the statues of antiquity; and in passing through the long line of marble greatness which the Louvre presents, stopt involuntarily at the sight of the Venus, or clustered round the foot of the pedestal of the Apollo;—indicating thus, in the expression of unaffected feeling, the force of that genuine taste for the beauty