ROYAL WARRANT FOR FURNISHING THE CHAPEL AT ELTHAM, 6 HEN. VIII. By the King. HENRY R. WE woll & comande you that upon the sight herof ye p'pay'e and ordeigne all suche stuf as shalbe necessarie for the altre of or chapell w'in o' manor of Elth'm as by the p'cells hereafter following:-Furst, iij ells one qarter of hereclothe; Also an other aultre-clothe of iiij ells di. to lye next the hore. cloth; Also vij ells of fyner clothe for two aultre clothes; Also iiij ells for towells for the aultre for the lavatorie; Also a payer of new cruetts of tynne & a sacringe bell and a pax table; Also a payer of new candellsticks of tynne or laten; Also an holy water stok of laten or tynne wt a springkle; Also iiij ells of canvas lyned w bocrame to kever w' the aultre from dust; Also a new antifyner or a portal prec. vjs. viijd.; Also a fyne corporas clothe w' a case, the one side crimosin welvett, and the other white damaske; Also a new vestment for holydayes of white damaske w' a crosse of crymosyn velvet w' albe and amys; Also anather aultre clothe of clothe of Bawdekin fringed, conteynyng in lenght iiij yerds, iij q'rters, and one yerde one naile depe; Also a stronge cheste to stande at the aultre end w lockes and fayling hereof as ye tendre or pleas'. warrunt and discharge in that behalf. Elth'm above said, the ix daye of July, the vj yere of or reigne. To of trusty and welbeloved Sir ANDREW WINDSOR, Mr. URBAN, keyes to kepe in the said stuff. Not And these o l'res shalbe yo' sufficient Given undre our signet at or mano' of [From the original. London, April 13. Most of the Doves, particularly the Ring-Dove (Columba Palumbus. Lin.) and the Tame Pigeon (C. Livia. Briss.), make a very peculiar and loud noise with their wings in flying, more especially when they first rise in their flight. This noise is caused by their wings striking together across their backs, which so create a sound much resembling the sharp clapping of the hands. Every one of your readers will remember the very beautiful simile of the Dove in the Eneid; and in order to express this singular noise of the wings across the back, I propose reading tergo' for tecto,' in the 4th verse. The poet's description of the flight of that bird would then, I think, be rendered, if not more elegant, at least more true to Nature; thus: ་ "Qualis speluncâ subito commota Columba, Cui domus et dulces latebroso in pumice nidi, Fertur in arva volans; plausumque exterrita pennis Master of or grete warderobe. C. W. L.] Dat tergo ingentem: mox aëre lapsa qui eto Radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas." The species here described by Virgil, is doubtless the Rock-Pigeon (C. Livia. Briss.)-the original of our tame or Stock-Pigeon, which abounds in such enormous flocks along the coasts of the Mediterranean. It breeds in holes and crevices of the rocks and cliffs adjacent to the sea. Who Of all birds perhaps the Dove is the most quiet, elegant, and domestic species; it has indeed been ever accounted the emblem of Love, and of Gentleness. Its cooing note, although both plaintive and melancholy, has something extremely striking and pleasing to the imagination. would ever wish to erase from his memory the following exquisite verses of the Sacred Writer? And how often may he not have reason, amidst the troubles, the storms, and the misfortunes of life, to repeat them, with the same feeling and carnest desire which originally caused them to be uttered?— "My heart is disquieted within me: and the fear of death is fallen upon me. Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me and an horrible dread hath overwhelmed me. And I said, O that I had wings like a Dove; for then would I flee away, and be at rest. Lo, then would I get me away far off: and remain in the Wilderness. I would make haste to escape: because of the stormy wind and tempest." On reading the tragedy of Octavia— generally attributed to Seneca-I was much struck with the annexed lines, which that unfortunate Empress is supposed to exclaim just before her cruel murder in the isle of Pandataria, now Ventotiene. They are exactly parallel to the 6th, 7th, and 8th verses of the Royal Psalmist. -" cujus pennas Utinam miseræ mihi Fata darent! Fugerem luctus ablata meos Pennâ volucri, procul et cœtus Hominum tristes, cædemque feram. Sola in vacuo nemore, et tenui Ramo pendens, querulo possem Gutture moestum fundere murmur." And I will here add, for the sake of comparison, an excellent Latin translation of those three verses of the above Psalm, by one of our British Poets: "Obrutus his, dixi, misero trepidoque Columbæ Ocyus hinc celerans, tumidis, quibus obruor insons, (Vide Arturi Jonstoni 'Psalmi Davidici.'-Ps. LV. v. 6-8.) 12mo. Lond. 1741. Remarks on Historical Painting, IN a paper on Historical Painting which appeared in the last number of this Magazine, a scheme was proposed by which it was hoped that a taste for the highest order of Painting might gradually be implanted in the minds of all classes of the people of England; and also that by drawing off the attention of the public from works which are in fact only the parts of a picture from mere landscapes, and representations of animal nature, our artists might be constrained to do rightful homage to their patrons, and to make human nature the ruling principle of all their works, and then cease to starve, to snarl, and to squabble. Too much severity cannot be employed in animadverting upon the condition of a class of persons whose misfortunes, if we may judge by the walls of the Royal Academy, of the British Institution, or of the Society of British Artists, are so much attributable to the grossest indolence and the most impertinent knavery. But it is to be feared that this severity will be of little use until, by touching one of the party, the sapper has established for himself a footing beneath the wall he would throw down. Nothing that we can do will affect the condition of the kingdom of Art, till the loyal party are bold enough to declare themselves GENT. MAG. VOL. VII. Yours, &c. J. H. cognizant of our kindly intentions. It is in vain we harangue the public in favour of their cause, till they, by contriving for us a landing, give our forces an opportunity of satisfying their own senses as to the truth of what we say-till they, by such a scheme as that proposed in our last paper, convince the public that there is rebellion against good taste in every painter who worships not the human form divine, but beasts instead, mere animals, among which may be ranked portraits, and buildings, and slices of the sky and earth. When they bestir themselves to meet us in our views, something may be done; till then they must continue to groan, and art to grow rotten. There is no creature subject to the frailties of human nature, so desirous of being looked upon as a man of genius as an artist. This is not extraordinary, since without genius, considered as an intellectual being, he is usually the most contemptible of his kind; his ignorance, which is proverbial, being now only equalled by his uselessness. The possession of genius is the only excuse for a man who determines to spend his whole life at an easel, the loom from which the charmed hand of genius alone can bring canvass that is not worthless; and it is to be doubted whether there is an artist in existence who is not of the same 4 G opinion; every artist therefore, we presume, must be desirous of giving proof to others, and of assuring himself, that he is thus endowed. How greatly is it to be regretted that every artist is not aware that this is to be done, only through the medium of Historical Painting and that thousands are disposed to esteem Claude Lorrain a man of genius, because by universal suffrage he has the reputation of being the greatest landscape painter that ever lived. There never lived a painter whose works gave less indications of this faculty of the soul; and, consequently, there never lived one, perhaps, who has been the occasion of so much mischief to the profession of which he is often esteemed a chief ornament. means There can be little doubt that the decline of painting in modern times dates from the rise of landscape painting. This was the immediate cause of a sudden increase of the number of persons calling themselves artists, which nothing but a diminution of the difficulties of the profession could render possible. And although it might be averred that the existence of landscape painters does by no necessarily suppose the annihilation of those belonging to the higher branches of the art, yet who can deny that it has not been the cause of starvation to many of the latter, and of the most deplorable degeneracy in their art?— and who can deny that they are unreasonable in growing disheartened when it is hourly their lot to see what merely forms a subordinate part of their productions-the Eden without Man, obtaining for its creator more glory than the Eden when graced by the presence of his image? Did the space allotted to us for these remarks admit of it, we should take great pleasure in submitting to the reader an argument which we have no doubt would satisfy him, that it is Historical Painting alone which, in order to be brought to the greatest state of perfection, imperatively requires that the artist should be a man of genius; but of this enough has been said for the present, and we now proceed to offer a few words of advice upon the subject of criticism. It should be insisted upon that all pictures aiming at admission to the highest class, come within certain prescribed limits as to size. For, applied to this subject, nothing is more just than the observation of Aristotle respecting the length of an heroic poem : it should neither be too long nor too short, he says; for, if the latter, its beauties as a whole will escape the observation of the reader, as the limbs of a small insect are lost to his sight; while, if the former, its parts being carried out to too great a length, he never can consider it as a whole, just as it would be impossible for him to judge of the form of a beast whose dimensions extended beyond the compass of his eye. The portions of fine historical pictures which are oftenest apt to be criticised carelessly are animals which may have been subordinately introduced into them. A Raphaellist scorns to take note of aught in the works of his idol, which, if remarked upon at all, must necessarily be censured; or, with the rashness characteristic of certain adorers of the antique, he describes with enthusiasm such defects as truly classical, accusing the more honest and discerning critic of coldness and natural incapacity to decide at all upon the merits of such a lofty genius. We are not aware of any painter, some of whose juvenile performances contain fewer indications of talent, much less of the genius he afterwards displayed, than those of Raphaelle. We have seen chalk or pencil drawings of his in the Ambrosian Library at Milan; and amongst the drawings in the Lawrence Gallery, a horse's head as large as life, and a sketch of horses; a Last Supper, in the British Institution last year, may also be ranked with them; which we do not hesitate to pronounce execrable. Such as, if produced as specimens of the talent of a son, would at once convince us of his total incapacity from nature to become a successful painter;-but these things-how frequently are they admired and held up as admirable examples of uneducated genius! The subordinate parts of a picture, especially when they consist of animals, are those which first of all excite the attention of the uninitiated spectator; if these, therefore, are imperfect, and he have intelligence enough to notice it, there is surely nothing very inconclusive in his reasoning that, as the more difficult passages would naturally in a much greater degree partake of this inaccuracy, there must be a deal of humbug in the enthusiasm for the fine arts expressed by every one who has appreciated the divine excellence of Raphaelle and Michael-Angelo. He is also disposed to rest satisfied in his own mind, since he finds these things better done by the pencil of a Morland, that historical painting is not by any means justly entitled to the supremacy over the other branches of the art which is universally conceded to it; so that, if not disgusted with painting altogether by this disappointment, he patronises from this moment the mere copyist of nature only. Were nature, on the contrary, beautifully represented in the parts which strike him first, he would be tempted to advance further in the work of examination, and thus receiving a gradual extension of his views, have ultimately developed to him, in the power to sympathize in a painted sentiment, the whole secret of the delight he had previously imagined a vain conceit. Such things as the disproportionate sizes of the boat and the persons in it, represented in one of the celebrated cartoons of Raphaelle, should never, upon any consideration, now be permitted to pass by unnoticed or without the severest animadversion; for such things do more towards the hindrance of an extension of interest in the pictorial drama, than the deep ly initiated admirer of true poetry may readily conceive possible. us. Painting and sculpture, it should ever be kept in mind, have for their main effect the developement of the sympathy between heart and mind,and nothing more. They of themselves make not better Christians of The susceptibility indeed which they give rise to, may prove only a new source of wretchedness to us: the number of our passions is increased by them, and as a consequence the number of our temptations. But, devoid of this sympathy between heart and mind, how are the precepts of the Gospel to have their due effects upon us? In vain does eloquence exert her powers in the pourtrayal of the Redeemer's agonies; without this sympathy the heart is deaf, and gratitude, at least, and love and admiration will never be among the incitements which cause the knee to bend and the foot to seek out the narrow path of righteousness. The fine arts, therefore, which conduced to render the Chaldeans, the Egyptians, the Greeks, and the Romans, by every account the most depraved people of antiquity, become, when enlisted in the service of Christianity, on account of their amiability and persuasiveness, the most efficient of her champions. Sublimity or pathos, therefore, must exist in every picture in order to make it valuable, or its author worthy of patronage. The profanest subjects-far be it from us to advocate an exclusive adherence only to religious themes!-may Let us not be understood by these observations to advocate the employment of painting as a direct means of incitement to worship. This is the false principle of the Roman Catholics, who would not be acting inconsistently with it were they to institute the performance of the profanest plays as a part of their religious ceremony. There is no adage of sterling worth so frequently neglected, and none which so easily admits of constant observance with the greatest advantage, as the often quoted one -There is a time and a place for everything.' If it be admitted that painting may be made a means of affecting the heart and rousing the imagination, it cannot be denied that it is a friend to religion. It is, however, no longer a friend, but becomes a rival of religion when it obtrudes itself on the operations of the latter, as it does when it is made a vehicle of adoration. But it is so difficult to find out where this is really the case, that we are disposed to regard the use made of pictures in Catholic churches, rather as an useless than as a noxious thing; and to attribute much of the abuse which is levelled against it, to abhorrence of unnecessary trouble, or to an insensibility to the charms of the fine arts. With weak minds one reason originating in themselves against a thing of this nature displays the property of the lifeless sponge, and blindly involves every other objection against it, which the ear may bring into its vicinity. be made instrumental to the forging of either of these two keys to the human heart. The grotesque and the monstrous are most useful media in the thorough developement of the powers of imagination. A long contemplation of subjects of this description will be found after a while to remove any tendency to narrow-mindedness and bigotry, and gradually to bring about the capability of believing things which are not self-evident-of bowing to the Saviour's miracles, of reverencing the Son of Mary, and of grasping to its full extent the idea of an Omnipotent Being. The study of no department of poesie, we are persuaded, is so apt to leave the mind in that pondering state which ever in the end becomes one all-engrossing wonderment about the nature things divine, as that of the fantastic, the fairy-like, the monstrous. For this reason we are decidedly of opinion that the old-fashioned fairy tale, which we understand is now rapidly giving place to the stories of prosaicwitted modern clergymen, as an introductory means of instruction to the young, is infinitely the better, inasmuch as it leads to a higher species of inquiry, such as the other is rarely found to suggest, and gives a vague susceptibility to grand impressions, unlike anything which the other could reasonably be hoped to effect. The of most cultivated and the most naturally apprehensive intellect is necessary to the perception of things beyond the surface, in the study or contemplation of every-day occurrences; such objects, therefore, it is clear, are not adapted to the quick developement of thought and sensibility in young people. Let the most of mind be made whilst it is capable of yielding fruit; let it be harrowed with horror, and be ploughed with grief; let it be heated with love, and watered with joy; and if it do not then yield enough to ransom it, religion was not at hand to reap when the crop was ready. The mere imitator of animal or inanimate Nature, when the public unanimously concur in the opinions here expressed, will be merged in the professor of Art as it is only useful, only valuable. Talent and instruction will then no longer be deemed the only things requisite to qualify the painter. The finger marks of genius must be clearly perceptible upon a boy's head before his parents will think of sending him to the Royal Academy; he must be a favourite of Nature,-fools only could recommend him to enter that profession without such interest. In the meantime, let those who may look upon these remarks as particularly addressed to them, constantly keep in mind that the public, even that portion of the public which has from earliest youth received instructions from a drawing master, is not at present capable of appreciating the higher orders of painting. They look at a Transfiguration with about as much edification as a school-boy derives from the perusal of one of the sublimest chapters of the prophet Isaiah. As with the latter, the one is no more to them (if understood) than a tissue of very simple things expressed in very monstrous language, for they see not why a metaphor should be esteemed more poetical or admirable than the downright statement of the thing it signifies; so, with the former, is the other but a group of painted figures, wonderful in no other respect than that they are clever imitations of substantial forms. The only means of remedying this is by public lecturing in the manner proposed in our last paper. Put a sketch of Raphaelle before a child, and he heedlessly scribbles over what a connoisseur would be ready to fall down and worship. A beau ideal must be put into the public mind, before the public will take a sincere delight in painting. Next to the connoisseur, the boxer, the horse-dealer, and the cattle-fancier, derive more genuine satisfaction from a visit to an exhibition of pictures than any other class of persons, merely because, in as far as concerns the respective objects of his daily studies, each of these men enjoys a beau ideal. R. B. D. Errata. Page 471, a. 38, omit the words upon it";-P. 472, note, line 4, for god read good;-P. 476, for Herr Legbold read Leybold. Some other misprints in the German words will have been noticed by the reader acquainted with that language; - P. 477, a. 46, for is that which read that which; col. 6, 45, for cooked read looked. |