and M. Angelo: the finished ground-work of our faith in art, in all that relates to form and to expression. To these two points I would principally direct the attention of the reader, and of the student; for though the richer embellishments of the art of painting form the more commonly alluring portion of its productions, yet they are comparatively of slight value without a judicious application of them; to which form and expression most essentially contribute. Besides, the mere art and its embellishments are of too attractive a nature to be in danger of neglect; they need only to present themselves to be admired and imitated; but the wise, the useful, and correctly expressive application of them, can be maintained in estimation only by persevering care and attention.

This valuable quality to be found in the productions of long-past times was one new source of information upon the subject I had in view, which promised to be useful if well applied; and I have endeavoured to avail myself of it.

The second point to which I have alluded related to the works of M. Angelo. On these we found that the information we had obtained had afforded us but imperfect conclusions. But I must speak for myself. I found that I had misunderstood or misapplied the great encomiums

which have been bestowed on his works by men the best able to appreciate his merits, Sir Joshua Reynolds and Mr. Fuseli. The consideration of the grand style in which they are wrought had been so repeatedly and so fully impressed upon my mind, that I was not sufficiently prepared to find a still greater power exhibited in them, creating and predominating over it.

But when works of imagination approach towards perfection in their individual classes, it is exceedingly difficult, if not impossible, so to define their peculiar excellencies by words, as to convey an adequate impression of them.

If, on the one hand, the beauty we admire arises from some high quality either of extreme delicacy or of daring boldness, when the former verges on imbecility, or the latter on bombast; how is the boundary where they stop to be described, or a just sense of it to be imparted? Those charms which captivate most surely, which retain possession of our minds most strongly and consequently most durably; which compel us to admire or venerate; which elevate us above all common impressions, and show us without excess the full influence of pathos, are too subtle for description. They are not, perhaps, and certainly not always, the most captivating at first sight. It is by degrees they win us to them

selves, and spread their ever-growing influence

over us.

A due impression of ordinary, or of very good works may be communicated; but when that degree of perfection is attained which carries the good onwards till it merits the title of the best; which conveys to the utmost the form, the expression, or the sentiment of a figure, or of a composition, it must be seen to be felt, or to be fully understood.

Hence, doubtless, it arose, that when I beheld the works of the earlier painters, of Giotto more particularly, and saw so much expression of thought and of passion under the rough garb of imperfect imitation; and in the works of Raffaelle and M. Angelo beheld the same mental power combined with the beauties of finished execution, as displayed in their paintings in the Vatican, I found that I could then more fully comprehend the force and the propriety of the remarks of others; and enjoy a strengthened confidence in my own mind, when it became my turn to speak upon the subject. I consequently felt, that in thus obtaining a qualification for myself, I might proceed satisfactorily in directing the studies of others, concerning the value of the principles observable in those great and leading productions of the pencil; and that I

could speak with certainty, and might hope to do it with authority and usefulness, in a degree which certainly I could never myself attach to the expressions of others who had not seen them.

The fine and powerful works of Raffaelle and M. Angelo are not recommended to us by the luxury of colouring, or any very striking arrangement of effect. Many persons, it is recorded, have passed through the chambers of the Vatican, and then enquired for the paintings of Raffaelle, expecting, no doubt, to see a brilliant display of the most engaging qualities of the art; a rivalry perhaps with the brilliancy and illusion of Rubens. Nevertheless, to a practised eye they are not wanting in these qualities, but their more efficient and more perfect beauties are reserved for the reflective mind.

To those of M. Angelo, these remarks most specifically apply; although they are more calculated to make an impression at first sight than Raffaelle's: a power which they owe to their singular diversity from all others which he who has been wandering through Italy in search of beautiful art has been accustomed to see.

While I have passed whole mornings in the Chapel (on the coving and ceiling of which they are painted), engaged in the admiration and study of them, and ever finding increasing grati

fication, hundreds have passed through it after giving the pictures half an hour's attention, declaring, " they were very extraordinary paintings, and seemed very fine, but they did not understand them!" The imperfect impression thus conveyed, cannot be said to arise from any fallacy in the art they exhibit; for though not carried to the perfection of imitation seen in the works of other schools, yet they are very excellent imitations of nature to a certain extent, and are delicate and agreeable in their colouring; so that the mind is not bewildered as if mere imaginary objects were presented for its contemplation. But, excepting on the ceiling, the scene consists of scattered parts without a readily apparent union; and that being felt by the common observer who has no clue to guide him to the comprehension of the whole, he turns aside with dissatisfaction. I have repeatedly and with pleasure, noticed the admiration given to single figures among the prophets and sibyls; to their colouring, the grandeur of their forms, and the power of their expressions: still the parties would repeat the common cry, "I don't understand it." No history was depicted, no incident exhibited to which they could attach what they saw; and they were bewildered in their consideration of it; the beauty and excellence of the