ANECDOTES OF EMINENT PAINTERS IN SPAIN, &c.

THE city of Seville, in the lan⯑guage of Spain the Paragon of Cities, the World's Eighth Wonder and the moſt famous, which the ſun ſurveys, has the ho⯑nour of giving birth to Diego Ve⯑lazquez de Silva, a painter, who by eminence in his art roſe to every title and emolument, which his [2] merit could claim, or fortune could beſtow: He was born in the year 1594 of Donna Geronima Velazquez by Juan Rodriguez de Silva, natives of the ſame illuſtrious city, and both deſcended from antient and honourable houſes; he bore his mo⯑ther's name Velazquez antecedent to that of his family, according to the uſage of Andaluſia. The fa⯑mily of Silva is of Portugueſe ori⯑ginal and by long and honourable deſcent claims to derive from the antient kings of Alba-Longa. The houſe of Silva in point of ſplen⯑dour and antiquity is unqueſtion⯑ably reſpectable; but I have little doubt, that it may ſay with many more that contend for Pagan ori⯑ginal [3] in the language of the Pha⯑riſee ‘"Have we not Abraham for our father?"’ In like manner the family of Galvez, a family from the dregs of the people, availing themſelves of a fortuitous ſimili⯑tude of name, pretend to derive from the Emperor Galba; a ſilly vanity in men, whom chance has elevated into ſtation and who by ſtirring a queſtion, which no pru⯑dent man would have touched, on⯑ly provoke an enquiry, which traces them through a few obſcure generations to their true Mooriſh extraction. In ſhort, Spain, which has as much or more of this pride of pedigree than any kingdom in Europe, is the one of all others with moſt bars in its genealogy [4] and that from very obvious cauſes adherent to its hiſtory.

The parents of Velazquez, though in very narrow circumſtances, gave their ſon a liberal education, and tradition has preſerved many cir⯑cumſtances of his early docility as well as excellent diſpoſition: But when every paper, on which he wrote his puerile taſks, exhibited ſketches and drawings on the back and thoſe of ſuch a ſtile as plainly in⯑dicated a new and extraordinary genius in its dawn, the good ſenſe of his parents did not heſitate upon humouring the impulſe and accor⯑dingly put him under the inſtruc⯑tion of Franciſco de Herrera, com⯑monly called Old Herrera, a rigid maſter, but of conſummate ability [5] in the art he taught. The man⯑ners and temper of Old Herrera were however ſo unſupportable to young Velazquez, that he left him and entered himſelf in the academy of Pacheco, a man of equal erudi⯑tion and of an admirable nature: Here his genius began to diſplay itſelf in ſeveral ſketches from na⯑ture of peaſants and ordinary peo⯑ple in peculiar habits and occupa⯑tions, as they ſtruck his fancy in the ſtreets or poſadas of the city. Theſe firſt ſallies of his imagination give a ſtriking repreſentation of the manners and characters of the vulgar: They exhibit alſo a luxu⯑riancy of ſtill-life, that he has in⯑troduced in the ſcenery of his pieces, in all which the coſtuma is [6] obſerved to perfection: One of his firſt productions is to be ſeen in the palace of the Buen-Retiro and repreſents an old Aguador in a tattered garment, which through its rents diſcovers naked parts of his body, giving water to drink out of his barrel to a boy; a piece of wonderful nature and expreſſion with a degree of ſcience and preci⯑ſion in muſcular anatomy, which is uncommon.

In ſubjects of this ruſtic ſort young Velazquez fuffered his ima⯑gination to diſport itſelf in its firſt ſallies, replying to ſome, that moved him to aſſume a higher ſtile of painting, that the founda⯑tion of his art muſt be ſtrength; delicacy might follow after as the [7] ſuperſtructure. It ſhould ſeem in his firſt productions, that he co⯑loured in the ſtile of Caravaggio, but upon his ſeeing ſome pictures of Guido, Pamarancio, Cavallero, Ballioni, Lanfranco and Ribera, which were brought to Seville out of Italy, he altered his manner; but the artiſt, upon whoſe model he chiefly ſtudied to form himſelf at this time, was Luis Triſtan of Toledo, a ſcholar of Dominico Greco. Of Triſtan he declared himſelf an admirer and profeſſed imitator; his deſign, colouring and vivacity of invention, were the ſtandard, to which he directed all his ſtudies. In portraits Dominico Greco was his model, the air of his heads Velazquez held in the higheſt [8] eſtimation, and frequently ob⯑ſerved, ‘"that what this maſter did well was beſt of all good things, and what he did ill was bad in the extreme."’

Whilſt Velazquez was thus en⯑gaged in the practice, he by no means neglected the theory of his art; he read every author of cre⯑dit, that could form his judgment, or enlarge his ſcience, and ſome he diligently ſtudied, in particular Alberto Durero for the ſymmetry of the human figure; Andres Bexalio for anatomy: He read the trea⯑tiſe of Daniel Barbaro on perſpec⯑tive; Vitrubio, Vin̄ola and others on architecture, and at the ſame time perfected himſelf in the pro⯑poſitions of Euclid; elements, that [9] prepare the mind in every art and every ſcience, to which the human faculties can be applied; which give a rule and meaſure for every thing in life, dignify things fami⯑liar and familiarize things abſtruſe; invigorate the reaſon, reſtrain the licentiouſneſs of fancy, open all the avenues of truth and give a charm even to controverſy and diſ⯑pute.

After five years thus ſtudiouſly employed in the academy he mar⯑ried Donna Juana, the daughter of his maſter Franciſco Pacheco, of a family and name as noble as any in Spain; this reſpectable artiſt in his Treatiſe de la Pintura (Lib. 1. cap. 9), after an elogium on the merit of his pupil, declares, that [10] he was moved to beſtow his daugh⯑ter upon him from the many de⯑monſtrations he gave of a moſt vir⯑tuous and liberal diſpoſition, and the high expectation he had formed of his talents after an experience of five years, which he had ſpent in ſuperintending his education; and, after pronouncing prophetically of his ſcholar's riſing fame, he de⯑clares, that ſo far from regarding it with an eye of envy, he conſi⯑dered his own reputation advanced thereby in the ſame manner as Leo⯑nardo da Vinci's was by Rafael, Caſtelfranco's by Titiano, or Plato's by Ariſtotle. Velazquez, who by his marriage with Donna Juana had eſtabliſhed himſelf to his con⯑tent, felt himſelf tempted to un⯑dertake [11] a journey to Madrid, where and at the Eſcorial ſo many trea⯑ſures of art were amaſſed: In ſhort, having ſacrificed to the ſofter paſ⯑ſions, ambition came in turn to take dominion of his mind and, leaving Donna Juana at Seville, he ſate out with one attendant only for the capital, where he arrived in April of the year 1622, being then in his twenty-eighth year, an age when the mind of man de⯑mands expanſion and a larger field of action than its native ſcenes pre⯑ſent. Velazquez upon this viſit to Madrid, not finding an opportu⯑nity of painting any of the royal perſons of the court, returned af⯑ter a ſhort ſtay to Seville in ſome degree of diſguſt; and here per⯑haps [12] he might have ſtaid, as Mu⯑rillo afterwards did, for the re⯑mainder of his life, if he had not been earneſtly ſolicited to return by the miniſter Olivares, who em⯑ployed Gongora the court poet to invite him in his name and to offer the accommodations of his houſe and family to him. Such an invi⯑tation was not to be withſtood and in the year following (viz. 1623) Velazquez for the ſecond time ar⯑rived in Madrid.

He was now lodged in the houſe of the prime miniſter and was ſoon admitted to take the portrait of the King, the Inſants and Olivares himſelf: This was the moſt imme⯑diate criſis of his fame and for⯑tune. Philip had been painted by [13] moſt of the eminent artiſts of the time, Vincencio Carducho and his brother Bartolome, Angelo Nardi, Eugenio Caxes and Joſeph Leonardo had ſucceſſively exerted themſelves to the utmoſt in portraying the royal perſon of a young ſovereign in poſſeſſion of every thing, which could rouſe their emulation and reward their diligence: In the houſe of the miniſter Philip ſat to Velazquez, and the date of this event is thought important enough to be preſerved to poſterity, it was on the 30th of Auguſt 1623: The portrait was upon a large ſcale, the King was drawn in armour and mounted upon a magnificent ſteed and diſplayed with all the advan⯑tageous accompaniments of a beau⯑tiful [14] ſcenery in the back-ground: The artiſt ſucceeded to his wiſh; the court rang with applauſe and all the cognoſcenti joined in giving the palm to Velazquez above all his predeceſſors: So compleat was his triumph on this happy occa⯑ſion, that the miniſter was com⯑manded to inform his inmate that the Royal perſon of Philip would in future be committed to no other pencil but his. In conſequence he proceeded to paint the Infants Don Carlos and Don Fernando, and after them he made a portrait of his patron Don Gaſpar de Guz⯑man Conde de Olivares, mounted, like his Royal maſter, on a noble Andaluſian courſer, richly capa⯑riſoned. If I may venture an ob⯑ſervation [15] in the general upon theſe and others of his royal portraits, it is, that there ſeems a labour in the artiſt, working under the impreſ⯑ſion of the perſonal dignity of his ſitters, to force a character of the ſublime, which ſometimes borders on the tumid and bombaſt: Every thing ſwells and flutters; rich as the Spaniſh horſes are by nature, ſtill there ſeems a pleonaſm in their manes and tails, that borders on extravagance: But the reader ſhould be reminded, that Rubens was now at Madrid in habits of in⯑timacy with Velazquez, that he had painted his figure of San Giorgio ſlaying the Dragon, the very quinteſſence of colouring and the moſt captivating example [16] of extravagance which the art of painting can perhaps exhibit.

On the 17th day of March in this year Prince Charles of Eng⯑land had made his entry into Ma⯑drid; that Prince honoured Ve⯑lazquez with peculiar attention. He did not ſit to him, but Velaz⯑quez took a ſketch of him as he was accompanying King Philip in the chace. When Velazquez had finiſhed his portrait of the King, he hung it up by royal permiſſion in a public ſtreet of the city, op⯑poſite the convent of San Phelipe; whilſt the courtiers applauded it to the ſkies, and the poets made ſonnets in his praiſe, the artiſts ſilently paſſing by, pined with en⯑vy at the ſight. Fortune now be⯑gan [17] to open all her treaſures to the meritorious and happy Velazquez. On the laſt day of October 1623 he was made King's painter with a ſalary of twenty ducats per month, excluſively of which he was paid for his pictures by tale: The royal munificence aſſigned him a hand⯑ſome houſe to live in of two hun⯑dred ducats a year; Philip paid him three hundred ducats ſor his portrait and granted a penſion of three hundred more by year ſpeci⯑ſically for this performance. Great rewards being thus heaped upon Velazquez, great things were ex⯑pected from him and, though the public ſubſcribed to his ſupe⯑riority in portraitures, he had not executed yet any capital hiſtorical [18] piece, as his competitors Caxes, Carduchio and Nardi had done. Each of theſe had ſignalized them⯑ſelves on a ſubject of great popular eclat, the Expulſion of the Moors out of Spain by Philip the IIId; he again entered the liſts with theſe artiſts and, following them in their ſubjects, exhibited a ſu⯑perb compoſition, in the center of which he placed the King armed and in the act of giving directions to a party of ſoldiers, who are eſ⯑corting a groupe of Moors of dif⯑ferent ages and ſexes to an embar⯑kation, which awaits them in one extremity of the canvaſs; on the oppoſite ſide he has perſonified the kingdom of Spain as a majeſtic matron in Roman armour with [19] part of a ſtately edifice, and this inſcription at her feet, viz. ‘"Phi⯑lippo III. Hiſpan. Regi Cathol. Regum pientiſſimo, Belgico, Germ. Afric. pacis et juſtitiae cultori publicae quietis aſſertori ob eliminatos feliciter Mauros Philippus IV. robore ac virtute magnus, in magnis maximus, animo ad majora nato propter antiq. tanti parentis et pietatis obſervantiaeq. ergo trophaeum hoc erigit anno 1627."’ Below he ſigns as follows, viz. ‘"Di⯑dacus Velazquez Hiſpalenſis Philip IV. Regis Hiſpan. pictor, ipſiuſque juſſu fecit anno 1627."’

No ſooner had he compleated this compoſition, than he again experienced the munificence of the [20] ſovereign. In the ſame year he was made Uſher of the Chamber, an office of great rank and honour; and in further ſupport of his new dignity Philip added a ſtipend of a daily ration of twelve rials and a yearly ſuit or habit of ninety ducats value. In this year Rubens made his ſe⯑cond viſit to Madrid in quality of Ambaſſador; the intimacy, which he formed with Velazquez and the ideas he thereby inſpired into him of the ſtate of the arts in Italy, raiſed an irreſiſtible deſire in that ambitious artiſt of proſecuting fur⯑ther improvements in the ſtudy of the antique and in the ſchools and collections in Rome. Velazquez was now in ſuch favour, that he had no ſooner expreſſed his wiſhes [21] for a tour to Italy, than he found himſelf anticipated in every prepa⯑rative for his undertaking, that the indulgence of his Sovereign could provide. His Majeſty gave him four hundred ducats and two years ſalary to defray his expences, and Olivares upon parting added two hundred ducats more in gold and a medal with the head of the King and many recommendatory letters: He left Madrid in com⯑pany with Don Alonſo Eſpinola, the King's general in Flanders, and embarked at Barcelona on the feaſt of San Lorenzo: In Auguſt 1629 he landed at Venice, and was lodged at the Spaniſh ambaſ⯑ſador's houſe, who ſhewed him all poſſible kindneſs and directed [22] his ſervants to attend him, when⯑ever he went out. In Venice he copied a picture of Tintoreto's, but, not chuſing to make any long abode there, he took his route to Rome, paſſing through Ferrara, where he was very honourably en⯑tertained by Cardinal Sacheti, who had been nuncio in Spain, with whom he paſſed two days: In Rome he was lodged in the Vati⯑can by favour of Cardinal Barbe⯑rino, who gave him acceſs at all times to the works of Rafael and Michael Angelo Bonarrota: Of theſe great authors he ſtudied the moſt capital productions with unremit⯑ting attention and delight; but his health being impaired by in⯑tenſe application, he was directed [23] into a more airy part of the city, in the houſe of the Florentine am⯑baſſador through the favour of the Conde de Monte Rey, Philip's ambaſſador at Rome: Being now convaleſcent, he gave himſelf up to the ſtudy of the antique for the ſpace of two months. During his abode in Rome he painted his ce⯑lebrated hiſtory of Jacob, when his ſons ſhew the bloody garment of Joſeph, a picture, which in all the great requiſites of perfection is ſcarcely to be exceeded and is un⯑doubtedly one of his moſt capital performances; he alſo painted the Diſcovery of Venus's Inſidelity, as related by Apollo to Vulcan, who is repreſented at his forge attended by his journeymen the [24] Cyclops, a wonderful piece of ex⯑preſſion: Both theſe pictures he tranſmitted to King Philip, who ordered them to his palace of the Buen-Retiro, from whence that of Joſeph was removed to the Eſcorial, where it now hangs, an illuſtrious acceſſion to that invaluable collec⯑tion.

Velazquez, after a year and a half's abſence, returned to Ma⯑drid, taking Naples in his way, where he made a portrait of Donna Maria de Auſtria, Queen of Hun⯑gary, conſort of Ferdinand the IIId: Abſence had not impaired his fa⯑vour with the King, who made him one of the gentlemen of his wardrobe and appointed him a painting-room in his palace, of [25] which the King himſelf kept a private key; reſorting to him as Charles did to Titiano and Philip the IId to Coello: Fuit enim ea comi⯑tas illi, propter quam gratior Alex⯑andro magno erat, frequenter in offi⯑cinam ventitanti. (Plin. Nat. Hiſt. lib. 31. cap. 10.)

In 1638 Velazquez made a portrait of Don Franciſco IIId, Duque de Modena, who was then at Madrid, and in the ſame year he painted his famous crucifix now in the con⯑vent of the monks of San Placido at Madrid; and ſurely, if there were nothing but this ſingle figure to immortalize the fame of Velaz⯑quez, this alone were ſufficient: It is of the ſize of life upon a plain back ground, diſpoſed with great [26] ſimplicity and nature, but with an expreſſion in the features, an air in the depreſſion of the head and a harmonious tone of colouring, at once ſo tender and of ſuch effect, that nothing can exceed it. I viſit⯑ed this exquiſite production re⯑peatedly and every time with new delight and ſurprize. The wretched cell or cabin, where it hangs, af⯑fords but little light thro' the iron grate of a window not glazed and that little is unfavourable: Mount Calvary itſelf was ſcarce more diſ⯑mal. In the ſame year Velazquez finiſhed a portrait of Don Adrian Pulido Pareſa, Admiral of the King's fleet in New Spain: This officer was under orders for repair⯑ing to his command, when Philip, [27] upon entering the chamber of Ve⯑lazquez then at work upon this por⯑trait, miſtaking it for the Admiral himſelf, entered into ſudden ex⯑poſtulation with him for ſtaying at Madrid beyond his time; declaring to Velazquez, after diſcovering his miſtake, that it was ſo perfect a counterpart of the Admiral, that with no light in the room but what ſtruck immediately upon the fi⯑gure, he had for ſome time actually believed it to be the perſon him⯑ſelf, and was ſurprized at finding him there in diſobedience to his orders. In painting this picture Velazquez uſed pencils with very long handles to produce more ef⯑fect by diſtance; this admirable [28] portrait was in poſſeſſion of the late Duque de Arcos.

It may well be expected to find the performances of this period of Velazquez's life executed in his beſt ſtile, when his taſte was form⯑ed by ſtudy at Rome, his judg⯑ment matured by experience and his fire not yet abated by years; careſſed by his ſovereign, applaud⯑ed by his contemporaries and at the ſummit of all worldly proſ⯑perity. In 1643 the miniſter Oli⯑vares was diſmiſſed from his em⯑ployments and confined to his town of de Toro, where he died on the 22d of July 1645, and his body was permitted to be removed for interment by the barefooted Car⯑melites at Loeches in the convent [29] of his own foundation. The good fortune of Velazquez received no ſhock by the diſgrace of his patron. It is to be mentioned to his honour upon this event, that he did not forſake his benefactor in misfor⯑tune, but took occaſion, notwith⯑ſtanding his employ at court, to ſee Don Gaſpar de Guzman in his exile and give him one, and per⯑haps the only, example of an un⯑ſhaken attachment; the healing conſolation, which ſuch a viſit muſt bring with it to a mind gall⯑ed by ingratitude and languiſhing under the inquietudes of diſ⯑appointed ambition, need not be pointed out: It is an amiable trait in Philip's character, that he ſaw this attachment and ſuffered it [30] without withdrawing any portion of his favour from Velazquez; this I think is clear from his giving him this very year the honour of the gold key and taking him with him upon his ſecond journey to Zarago⯑za: He had accompanied the King into Aragon the year before Oli⯑vares's diſgrace, when Philip made his expedition for quieting the tu⯑mults in Catalun̄a; this was re⯑peated in 1644 and now his favou⯑rite artiſt attended him as groom of the chamber, and upon the ſub⯑miſſion of Lerida to Philip on the 31ſt of July of that year, who en⯑tered it in perſon on the 7th of Auguſt following, Velazquez made a magnificent portrait of the King in the habit he then wore with all [31] the inſignia of a general, an ineſti⯑mable work: He drew the Cardinal Infante Don Fernando, Philip's brother, the Queen Donna Iſabel richly habited, mounted on a beau⯑tiful white palfrey, and the prince Don Carlos, very young, in armour with a general's ſtaff in his hand on a Spaniſh jennet in full ſpeed: He made many other portraits of il⯑luſtrious perſons, Don Franciſco de Quevedo Villegas, Cardinal de Borja y Velaſco, Archbiſhop of Seville and Toledo, the learned Simon de Roxas and others. He drew the King again on horſeback in armour with his titles as follows, viz. Philippus Magn: hujus nom: IV, potentiſſimus Hiſpaniarum Rex [32] Indiar: maxim: Imp: Anno Chriſt: XXV, Saeculi XVII, Era. XX. A.

In the year 1648 Velazquez was diſpatched upon a particular em⯑baſſy to Pope Innocent X. and was at the ſame time commiſſioned by the King to purchaſe ſtatues and pictures in Italy for the royal collec⯑tion; on this expedition he ſate out from Madrid in the month of November and embarked at Ma⯑laga with Don Jayme Manuel de Cardenas, Duque de Naxera, who was going to Trent a eſperar a la Reyna Donna Maria An̄a de Auſtria, daughter of the Emperor Ferdinan⯑do IIId and Donna Maria Infanta of Spain. Velazquez landed in Genoa, paſſed through Milan, Padua and from thence to Venice, where he [33] paſſed ſome time in reviving his ac⯑quaintance with the admired com⯑poſitions of Titiano, Tintoreto, Paulo Verones and others; and here he had the good fortune to purchaſe ſome capital pictures, as likewiſe in Bo⯑logna, where he engaged Miguel Colona and Aguſtin Miteli to go into Spain to execute ſome paint⯑ings in freſco for the King. He made ſome ſtay in Florence and paid a viſit to the Duke of Modena, who received him with great cor⯑diality and ſhowed him the por⯑trait he had painted at Madrid, ſplendidly equipped and diſpoſed to all poſſible advantage in the beſt apartment of the palace; from hence he went to Parma to view the works of the celebrated Cor⯑regio, [34] and whilſt he was on his way from Parma to Rome, he was called away to Naples by expreſs from the Viceroy Conde de On̄ate, who had received the King's com⯑mands to confer with Velazquez upon the objects of his commiſ⯑ſion; here he was viſited by the famous Ribera, a Knight of the order of Chriſt. When he arrived in Rome he was received with great kindneſs and diſtinction by the Pope, and as he found many hours, when the duties of his em⯑ploy did not engage his attention, he painted many portraits in Rome of dignified perſons after the ex⯑ample of Rubens during his em⯑baſſy at Madrid. Innocent X. ſate to Velazquez and, in token of [35] his ſatisfaction, gave him a mag⯑nificent golden medal. Velazquez ſent a copy of this picture over to Spain. He made a portrait of Juan de Parexa the painter, which being exhibited to the public on the feaſt of San Joſeph, after the departure of Velazquez, it was ſo univerſally applauded, that the academicians of Rome elected him of their body and ſent his appoint⯑ment after him to Spain. It was not till the year 1651, that Velaz⯑quez took his departure by ſea from Genoa on his return to Spain, freighted with a very grand col⯑lection of antique ſtatues, buſts and ſome pictures of the moſt cele⯑brated maſters. He arrived in ſafety with his cargo, and was re⯑ceived [36] by Philip with his accuſ⯑tomed favour. The Queen Donna Iſabel de Bourbon had died whilſt Velazquez was abſent, and the King had wedded Donna Maria An̄a de Auſtria.

In 1652, Philip beſtowed upon Velazquez, a very diſtinguiſhing mark of his favour by appointing him Apoſentador major of his royal palace in the room of Don Pedro de Torres, an office to be filled by none but men of eminent pre⯑tenſions either in rank or ſervice, and after his return from Italy it appears, that Philip took him into abſolute confidence, paſſing many hours in private with him and ad⯑viſing with him upon affairs of the greateſt delicacy and importance. [37] It was at this time Velazquez de⯑ſigned and executed his famous picture, in which he has repre⯑ſented himſelf at his eaſel with his pallet in one hand and his pencil in the other; the picture, on which he is working, is the portrait of Donna Margarita Maria of Auſtria, Infanta of Spain, and afterwards Empreſs of Germany. It is re⯑lated of this picture, that Philip with his own hand put in the order of Santiago upon the portrait of Velazquez, which at the time of painting this piece (viz. 1656) he was not yet poſſeſſed of. When Charles the IId of Spain ſhewed this picture to Lucas Jordan, he exclaimed with rapture and ſur⯑prize, [38] Sen̄or eſta es la Theologia de la Pintura.

This year 1656 Velazquez re⯑ceived an order from the King to ſelect a number of original pic⯑tures to augment the collection at the Eſcorial: They were taken out of thoſe, which he himſelf had purchaſed for the King in Italy, with others, that had been col⯑lected in Naples by the Viceroy Conde de Caſtrillo, and the pic⯑tures, which had been bought in England at the ſale of the late Royal Martyr's effects: Amongſt theſe latter it is well known was the ineſtimable Perla of Rafael, an Holy Family by Andrea del Sarto and a capital piece by Tintoret of our Saviour waſhing his Diſciples [39] feet: Theſe were amongſt the ſe⯑lection made by Velazquez, and are now depoſited in the ſacriſty of the Eſcorial, there to remain for ever dedicated to San Lorenzo and obſcurity, or until ſome ſuch ex⯑traordinary revolution, as they have already experienced, ſhall again tranſplant them into other hands together with the magazine of wealth and precious things im⯑priſoned with them. The extrac⯑tion of ſuch ineſtimable pieces of art out of any country may well be termed a national loſs and misfor⯑tune, and, viewing it as ſuch, we juſtly execrate the taſteleſs dema⯑gogues, that put them up to pub⯑lic ſale; but this once done, we certainly have cauſe for ſelf-con⯑gratulation [40] and ſurprize, that any of the valuable reliques of that collection are left amongſt us; how it came to paſs that the cartoons of Rafael were bought in by the Protector, when Philip's ambaſſa⯑dor was a bidder, one is at a loſs to account; and it muſt be conſi⯑dered as a very happy chance, that they did not expatriate together with the Perla and its compani⯑ons: Add to this, that at an aera when it was religion to break painted windows, it might have been meritorious to burn painted canvaſs; ſo that it is well their ſentence was not death, inſtead of baniſhment.

Much I know has been ſaid both in poetry and proſe upon the near [41] alliance between freedom and the liberal arts; I hope it has been both ſaid and ſung with truth and reaſon; we are intereſted to wiſh, that ſuch reſpectable parties ſhould be upon the beſt of terms; but it muſt be remembered, in this in⯑ſtance at leaſt, the party, who at⯑tacked freedom, was the collector and the party, who deſended it, the ſeller: I might add, that the buyer was an abſolute Prince: Certainly it is hard with the arts, when an arbitrary ſovereign upon a ſcruple of conſcience iſſues his edict for the demolition of all pic⯑tures in the nude: Such a mani⯑feſto in the teeth of taſte can only be exceeded by Caliph Omar's or⯑der for the burning of the Alex⯑andrian [42] library. In ſuch caſes we cannot too much lament the miſ⯑uſe of power, where ſuch deplor⯑able effects reſult from the exer⯑ciſe of it; but where is the ty⯑rant who could iſſue edicts more compleatly barbarous than the fol⯑lowing, viz.

To all this on one ſide as well as the other there needs no other an⯑ſwer to be given, than that fana⯑ticiſm is not freedom, nor the freaks of prudery true modeſty of nature.

Velazquez in obedience to his orders removed forty-one capital pictures to the Eſcorial, col⯑lected by Philip, of all which he preſented to the King a full and critical deſcription and account. In 1658 Colona and Miteli, the two artiſts, whom Velazquez had engaged at Bologna, arrived at court and were immediately em⯑ployed under the ſuperintendance of Velazquez in many conſiderable [44] freſco paintings of the galleries, cielings of the palace and theatre, as well as of the fountains and buildings in the gardens; in theſe works they were aſſiſted by the ce⯑lebrated Don Juan Carren̄o and Don Franciſco Rici, both artiſts in the ſervice of the King. A⯑guſtin Miteli died in 1660, much lamented, and was buried at the Royal charge with great ſolemnity in the convent of our Lady de la Merced with the following inſcrip⯑tion on his tomb, viz. D. M. S. Aguſtinus Miteli Bononenſis, pictor praeclarus naturae aemulus admirandus ac perſpectiva incomparabilis cujus manu prope vivebant imagines, ipſâ invidâ, occubuit Mantua Carpetanae, [45] poſtridie Kalendas Auguſti anno MDCLX. HSESTTL.

Colona, after concluding his commiſſion much to the ſatisfaction of the King and his own emolu⯑ment, returned to Italy in Septem⯑ber 1662, though others have ſup⯑poſed, that he went to France.

In 1659 Velazquez by order of the King painted a portrait of Don Phelipe Prince of Aſturias born 1651, which was ſent into Germany to the Emperor. He alſo painted one of the Infanta Donna Margarita de Auſtria, an excellent piece, which portraits were the laſt works, that this il⯑luſtrious artiſt lived to finiſh. In the year preceding this Philip had conferred upon Velazquez the mi⯑litary [46] order of Santiago; the King was then at the Eſcorial and, hav⯑ing according to the rules of the order iſſued his mandate to the Marquis de Tabara the preſident to examine and report the proofs of qualification on the part of Ve⯑lazquez, which being complied with and preſented to the King, Philip turning himſelf to Velaz⯑quez with a ſmile, that expreſt every thing moſt gracious and complacent, replied, Give him the order, for I know his noble birth and the right he has to it; and thus at once made needleſs any further ſcrutiny and examination. As a further grace to this diſtinguiſhed artiſt, Philip appointed his inveſ⯑titure for the feaſt of San Proſpero, [47] which was the day of the Prince of Aſturias, who bore that amongſt his names; and thus upon the grand gala of the court, amidſt the utmoſt feſtivity and magni⯑ficence, Velazquez was inveſted with the inſignia of the order by the hands of Sen̄or Don Gaſpar Juan Alonſo Perez de Guzman, then Conde de Niebla and after⯑wards Duque de Medina Sidonia; his ſponſor on the ſolemnity being the Marquis de Malpica, Comen⯑dador of the order. The functions of his office of Apoſentador now occupied the chief part of Velaz⯑quez's time, who, full of fame and years, began to obey the ſummons of old age and abate of his wonted application to his art.

[48] The King now prepared for his journey to Irun to meet the King of France, who by his ambaſſador extraordinary had demanded the Infanta Donna Maria Tereſa in mar⯑riage; this journey took place in 1660, and Velazquez in execution of his office ſate out before the court; the King followed with the Infanta; they paſſed through Al⯑cala, Guadalaxara and Burgos, in which capital Velazquez waited to receive the further orders of his ſovereign for fitting and preparing the ceremonials of the interview: The houſe appointed for this pur⯑poſe was in the Iſle de los fayſanes upon the river Vidaſas near to Irun in the province of Guepuzcoa. Velazquez advanced to this place in [49] company with the Baron de Bate⯑billa, Governor of San Sebaſtian, for the purpoſe of putting it in pro⯑per order and condition for the re⯑ception of the royal perſonages, who were there to meet; this in⯑terview took place in the month of June, when Louis the fourteenth, after being ſplendidly regaled and having interchanged ſeveral mag⯑nificent preſents with the Catholic King, received his bride and Philip returned to San Sebaſtian. In all theſe ſplendid ceremonials Velazquez officiated in quality of his poſt, adorned with the inſignia of his knighthood and other dig⯑nities, magnificently apparelled in a veſt of golilla with rich ſilver lace of Milan, according to the faſhion [50] of the times; on his cloak the red croſs, profuſely adorned with dia⯑monds and other precious ſtones, a beautiful ſilver-hilted ſword of exquiſite workmanſhip with figures in relievo, made in Italy; a coſtly gold chain round his collar, with the order of Santiago appending to it in a magnificent ſetting of diamonds.

The King returned through Guadarrama and the Eſcorial to Madrid, and Velazquez at the ſum⯑mit of all worldly happineſs and proſperity haſtened to enjoy the congratulations and embraces of his family. What muſt have been his diſappointment in the moment, when he was met with melancholy and dejected countenances by all [51] his houſhold, on account of his death being predicted to them by ſeveral of the court. Velazquez was too conſiderable a man to fall without ſome traditional preſages of his death; this is a tribute, which the ſuperſtition of the time generally demands and, if chance does not furniſh the fact, invention muſt ſupply it and biographers muſt record it: On the eve of San Ignacio, at the end of the month of July in 1660, Velazquez, hav⯑ing attended his functions at court, complained of being unuſually fa⯑tigued and ſickened that night; his family phyſician Don Vicencio Moles was immediately called in; the alarm of his illneſs ſoon reach⯑ed the King; the royal phyſicians [52] Don Miguel de Alva and Don Pe⯑dro de Chavarri were ſent to aſſiſt, and the fever, (as well may be be⯑lieved) kept pace with their aſſiſt⯑ance. The King, after ſo many ſplendid favours beſtowed upon Velazquez through the courſe of his reign, added the laſt melancholy office of friendſhip by ſending to him a ſpiritual comforter in the perſon of Don Alonſo Perez de Guzman, a good and pious prelate, Archbiſhop of Tyre in partibus in⯑fidelium and Patriarch of the In⯑dies: He ſupported himſelf againſt the violence of his diſtemper and the medicines of his doctors till the evening of the 6th of Auguſt, when this great artiſt, at the age of 66, having compleated a life of [53] uninterrupted felicity and fame, re⯑ſigned it with becoming fortitude and compoſure; lamented by his Sovereign, and regretted by all but thoſe, who envied his talents and proſperity. Philip who naturally was a lover of the arts, under the tuition of Velazquez had become a judge; the hours, which he had dedicated to the ſociety of this elegant and grateful inſtructor, were the moſt ſerene and pleaſing paſſages of his life: His attach⯑ment to Velazquez had been cauſed by admiration of his talents, but it was cloſed and confirmed by experience of his diſcretion, fide⯑lity and virtue: This attachment had been now coeval with his reign; it had felt no interruption [54] or abatement, had outlaſted all thoſe political ones, to which for a time he had ſo abſolutely ſur⯑rendered himſelf: In the revulſion of his affection from his favourite Olivares, a ſhock which might na⯑turally be thought deciſive againſt Velazquez, Philip had the mode⯑ration to admit of ſharing his at⯑tentions with a miniſter, whom he had diſcarded; a ſelf-ſubmiſſion difficult for any man, but doubly ſo for one poſſeſſed of arbitrary power; the grateful vaſſal felt his Sovereign's magnanimity and knew the value of the ſacrifice; from that period his devotion was un⯑bounded, and Philip's confidence kept pace with it ſo effectually, in ſpite of all the peeviſh efforts of [55] the envious, that he poſſeſſed his favour undiminiſhed to the laſt hour of life: That event deprived the King of a reſource and made a gap in his enjoyments, which he could never more fill up; the loſs to Philip was irreparable, and no⯑thing now remained but to pay the laſt honours to the memory of Velazquez with a ſolemnity, that ſhould at once mark the love he bore his perſon and the eſteem he entertained for his merits: This was effectually performed and Ve⯑lazquez was attended to his grave in the parochial church of San Juan, by a train of courtiers and Grandees, with the band of the Royal chapels and all the funeral ceremonies of the moſt ſplendid [56] church on earth. Don Juan de Alfaro of Cordova, a diſciple of Velazquez, in partnerſhip with his brother Henry a phyſician, com⯑poſed the following epitaph, which, if the reader ſhall think deficient in elegance, will recompenſe him in quantity.

Franciſco Zurbaran, though a native of Fuente de Cantos in the neighbourhood of Seville, ſtudied in Eſtremadura under one of the ſcholars of El Divino Morales; before he had perfected himſelf with this maſter, his parents re⯑turned with him into Andaluſia to the place of his nativity, and en⯑tered him in the ſchool of the ce⯑lebrated Canon Pablo de las Roelas at Seville, who, as we have before obſerved, was a diſciple of Titiano. In this academy Zurbaran applied [60] himſelf with ſuch diligence and ſucceſs to his art, that he ſoon ac⯑quired the reputation of an emi⯑nent painter; ſtruck with the bold effects of Caravaggio's clear-ob⯑ſcure, he adopted his ſtile of co⯑louring, at the ſame time adhering cloſely to nature without extrava⯑gance or caprice: His firſt com⯑poſitions acquired great fame, and are in the ſecond cloyſter of the barefooted Merced in Seville: They repreſent the hiſtory of San Pedro Nolaſco, and all the reli⯑gious being in white habits, the draperies are managed with great art and delicacy: Many other of his paintings are in this city and ſeveral in Cordova; ſuch was the reputation of this artiſt, that when [61] it was reported that he was about to ſettle at Fuente de Cantos, the magiſtrates and people of Seville, alarmed at the idea of loſing ſo celebrated an artiſt and ſo excellent a citizen, deputed certain of their body to wait upon Zurbaran by commiſſion and entreat him not to depart out of their city for the pur⯑poſe of ſettling elſewhere: He obeyed the flattering deputation by revoking his deſign, but the commands of the King were ſoon after ſignified to him by Velazquez in the year 1650, calling him up to Madrid: To theſe orders the citizens of Seville oppoſed no re⯑monſtrance, nor could he eaſily demur in the caſe. Upon his ar⯑rival in Madrid he was employed [62] in the Retiro, where he executed the paintings of Hercules and was in great favour with Philip the IVth. He painted ſeveral pic⯑tures for the Caſa de Campo and the other Royal Sitios; many of his performances are diſperſed in the churches, and not a few in private hands: He died at the age of 66 years in 1662. Zurbaran was made King's painter, and Philip, who had a mode of beſtow⯑ing his favours peculiarly gracious, announced his appointment by tel⯑ling him, that having been for ſome time King of the Painters, it was fit he ſhould henceforward be Painter to the King; whilſt this was ſaying Philip had gently reſted his hand upon the ſhoulder of [63] Zurbaran, accompanying his fa⯑vour with one of thoſe familiar ac⯑tions of princely condeſcenſion, which are better felt than deſcribed and which, if they do not conſti⯑tute the eſſence of generoſity, cer⯑tainly are the ornament of it.

Antonio del Caſtillo y Saavedra of Cordova, was of a very noble ſtock and ſtudied painting under his father Aguſtin del Caſtillo, at whoſe death he went to Seville and perfected himſelf in the aca⯑demy of the abovementioned Zur⯑baran: Many valuable paintings in the cathedral of Cordova bear teſtimony to Caſtillo's merit, and if his colouring had been equal to his drawing, it would not have been eaſy in this catalogue to have [64] found his ſuperior. In the church of San Franciſco in his native city of Cordova there is a compoſition of his repreſenting the baptiſm of the Saint, which he painted in competition with Alfaro, and as that painter was in the habit of ſigning all his pieces with his name, which Caſtillo imputed to vanity, he wrote at the foot of this canvaſs, Non fecit Alvaro. In 1666 he re⯑turned to Seville, where he had not been ſince his youth; Murillo was then in general vogue and at the height of his fame; ſome of his productions were ſhewn to Caſ⯑tillo; he ſurveyed them for a time with mute aſtoniſhment and ſur⯑prize; he ſaw Nature reflected in her moſt perfect ſhapes and with a [65] brilliancy of pencil, which he was conſcious he did not poſſeſs, and probably did not believe to be within the power of the art; at length he recovered his ſpeech and turning from the object exclaimed with a ſigh, Yà muriò Caſtillo! Caſtillo is no more: He returned to Cordova; ſeized with diſguſt he abſtained from his art, and ve⯑rified his prediction before a year had expired, pining away in me⯑lancholy and deſpair; with ſuch painful ſenſibility are ſome men conſtructed, that to take away their opinion of their own ſuperiority is in effect to take away their lives. I have enquired into this circum⯑ſtance, as related by Palomino, and I find it well authenticated by un⯑queſtionable [66] tradition. The reader may be apt to conclude that Caſ⯑tillo was a man of inſufferable ſelf⯑conceit and corroded with envy; to the contrary of this there is not to be found upon record an artiſt of more diſtinguiſhed good quali⯑ties, or more complacent diſpoſi⯑tion: In accounting for the ope⯑rations of a ſenſitive mind acting upon a delicate frame of body, there ſeems to be no occaſion for making the malevolent paſſions acceſſary to an event like this which took place in the perſon of poor Caſtillo: The deduction, which I ſhould recommend to be drawn from it, and in which I am per⯑ſuaded I ſhall be anticipated by candour, is ſimply to reflect, that [67] ſuch being the frail materials, of which men of tender feelings, and more eſpecially profeſſors of the fine arts, are too apt by nature to be compounded, we ought to re⯑gard their infirmity with compaſ⯑ſion and be cautious how we at⯑tempt to derogate from that ex⯑cuſeable ſelf-opinion, which is ſo inſeparable from talents and ſo eſ⯑ſential to man's happineſs: In this view of the caſe perhaps that ſpecies of detraction, which a court of law will not denominate a libel, in a court of conſcience and in the eye of Heaven ſhall amount to mur⯑der. I had almoſt forgot to add that Caſtillo was a poet.

The genius of Velazquez was of that quality, that to be within the [68] ſphere of its activity was in ſome degree to partake of its enthuſiaſm, at leaſt where its attraction met with any particles that were of correſpondent quality. A ſlave, by name Juan de Pareſa, a Mu⯑latto, was employed in mixing his colours and feeding his pallet; from pointing the arrows of Apollo he became ambitious of trying his ſtrength at the bow: The diſqua⯑lification of his condition neverthe⯑leſs was ſuch, that to touch the moſt liberal of arts with the hand of a ſlave was danger in the ex⯑treme: The Caſts in India do not ſtand off at greater diſtance from each other, than degrees of men do in Spain, and Velazquez was of all maſters the leaſt likely to brook [69] a violation ſo preſumptuous as that which Pareſa meditated: Hung round with chains of gold and courtly orders, of haughty pretenſions in point of family and high in favour and familiarity with his Sovereign, Velazquez would have treated the inſolence of his ſlave, as Jupiter did that of Salmo⯑neus, by extinguiſhing his exiſt⯑ence: Notwithſtanding the temp⯑tation was for ever preſent and the impulſes of genius in the end be⯑came irreſiſtible; in the ſtolen moments of his maſter's ſieſta, or when court avocations called him from home, Pareſa ſeized the clan⯑deſtine opportunities and by the force of talents became in time an accompliſhed artiſt. Ambition now [70] inſpired him with higher projects, and as the liberality of Philip held out a general aſylum to merit, he determined upon a method of in⯑troducing his performances to the eye of the King: He obſerved it was his practice in Velazquez's chamber to order the pictures, that ſtood with their faces to the wall, to be turned that he might ſee them; this ſuggeſted to him the thought of ſubſtituting one of his own productions, and taking his chance for what ſhould follow. The expedient happily took place, and the King coming in to the aca⯑demy, ordered the canvaſs to be turned; Pareſa eagerly obeyed and preſented to the royal view a piece compoſed by the audacious pencil [71] of a ſlave and a Mulatto, but ſuch an one in point of excellence, as would have done honour to a freer and a fairer artiſt: It was not eaſy to appeal to better judgment than the King's, or enter upon his trial at a more merciful tribunal: Pa⯑reſa fell upon his knees, and avow⯑ing the guilt of the performance, implored protection againſt the re⯑ſentment of his maſter for having ſecretly purloined his art. Velaz⯑quez, ſays the King, you muſt not only overlook this tranſgreſſion in Pareſa, but obſerve that ſuch ta⯑lents ſhould emancipate the poſ⯑ſeſſor. The generous decree was obeyed by Velazquez, and Pareſa had his freedom; the grateful freed man continued his voluntary [72] ſervice till the death of Velazquez, and after his death to his daugh⯑ter, who married Don Juan Baup⯑tiſta del Mazo. I wiſh I could add that I had ſeen any of his works, but I underſtand he was eminent in portraits and copied very ably the ſtile and manner of his maſter: Pareſa died at Madrid in 1670 aged ſixty years.

Alonſo Cano may be ſtiled the Michael Angelo of Spain, he ex⯑celled as Painter, Statuary and Architect, and it is difficult to de⯑cide in which branch his talents were moſt conſpicuous: He was born in the city of Grenada in 1600: His father was an eminent architect and educated him in his own profeſſion; the genius of [73] Alonſo was not to be limited to one department in the arts or ſci⯑ences; he had induſtry to combat any difficulties, ardour to under⯑take and readineſs to apprehend. When he had completed his theo⯑retical ſtudies under his father, as far as his inſtructions could carry him in architecture, he applied himſelf to the more animating ſtu⯑dy of ſculpture and made an un⯑common progreſs in a very ſhort time; he next repaired to Seville and admitted himſelf as one of Pa⯑checo's diſciples, he ſtaid eight months with him and then com⯑pleated himſelf under Juan del Caſtillo, in whoſe academy he exe⯑cuted many noble paintings for public edifices in Seville, and at [74] the ſame time gave ſome ſpecimens of his excellence in ſtatuary, which were perfectly aſtoniſhing in ſo early a proficient; being then only twenty-four years of age. Cano was of a noble family and ſo high⯑minded that in his early practice he would not admit of being paid for his productions, excuſing him⯑ſelf by declaring that he worked for reputation and practice, and that he conſidered himſelf as yet ſo unfiniſhed and imperfect in his art, that he could not in conſcience ad⯑mit of any recompence: Never⯑theleſs in this early period of life he exhibited ſome ſtatues of ſuch ſuperior workmanſhip, in particu⯑lar a Madonna and Child, now in the great church of Nebriga, and [75] two coloſſal figures of San Pedro and San Pablo, that the Flemiſh artiſts, hearing of their fame, came into Andaluſia to copy them, and returned in admiration at his talents.

Cano, who was generous and gallant in the extreme, was of a turbulent and fiery temper, and having upon ſome occaſion quar⯑relled with Sebaſtian de Llanos y Valdes, a painter of eminence in Seville, he challenged him to ſingle combat, and being a moſt expert ſwordſman wounded Llanos in the right arm: I have no doubt but Cano was wrong in the diſpute, for he found it neceſſary to quit Seville upon the affair, and Philip the IVth chancing to paſs through that city with his miniſter Oli⯑vares, [76] Cano attached himſelf to the ſuite of the Conde Duque, and under his protection came to Madrid; an artiſt of his exten⯑ſive capacity was not likely to be overlooked by Philip, and in a ſhort time he was made Firſt Royal Architect, King's Painter, and Teacher to the Prince Don Bal⯑thazar Carlos de Auſtria. As archi⯑tect he projected ſeveral additional works to the palaces, ſome public gates to the city and a triumphal arch erected upon the grand en⯑trance of Mariana de Auſtria, ſe⯑cond conſort to Philip the IVth; this was univerſally admired, as well for the novelty as for the ſub⯑limity of the idea. As a painter he executed many celebrated com⯑poſitions; [77] in the pariſh church of Santa Maria in Madrid there is a much-admired picture on the ſub⯑ject of San Iſidro; a Saint Francis with an Angel in the pariſh church of Santiago; a Santa Cantalina, a San Joſeph and ſome others in the church of San Miguel, and many more in the Imperial College and otherwiſe diſperſed in Madrid, which any curious enquirer that is deſirous of tracing the productions of this celebrated artiſt may readily enough find out. He was now at the ſummit of proſperity and fame; of courſe he was an object for envy and detraction. He takes his com⯑poſitions, ſaid the cavillers, from the refuſe of the print-ſhops; and is not ſuch plagiariſm mean and un⯑becoming [78] for ſo great a pre⯑tender? Granted, replied Alonſo; but if you commit the ſame of⯑fence, gentlemen, I ſhall not make the ſame complaint.

An event now happened, which involved him in much trouble and perſecution; returning home one evening he diſcovered his wife murdered, his houſe robbed and an Italian journeyman, on whom the ſuſpicion naturally fell, eſcaped and not to be found. The cri⯑minal judges held a court of en⯑quiry upon the fact, and having diſcovered that Alonſo Cano had been jealous of this Italian, and alſo that he was known to be at⯑tached to another woman, they ac⯑quitted the ſugitive gallant and [79] with a ſagacity truly in character condemned the huſband; no choice was now left to Cano but to fly and abandon Madrid in the midſt of his proſperity; he cauſed it to be reported that he was gone to Por⯑tugal and took refuge in the city of Valencia; neceſſity ſoon com⯑pelled him to have recourſe to his art, and his art immediately be⯑trayed him; in this exigency he betook himſelf to the aſylum of a Carthuſian convent at Porta Coeli about three leagues from Valencia: Here he ſeemed for a time deter⯑mined upon taking the order, but either the auſterities of that habit, or ſome hopes of returning with impunity to a courſe of life more to his taſte than a convent, put [80] him by from his deſign, and he was even raſh enough to return to Madrid, thinking to conceal him⯑ſelf in the houſe of his father Don Rafael Sanguineto. He made ſe⯑veral paintings here as well as with the Carthuſians, and not being of a temper to maintain any laſting reſtraint over himſelf, he neglected to keep houſe with Don Rafael, and was apprehended in the ſtreets, and directions were given for put⯑ting him to the torture: Cano de⯑fended himſelf by the plea of ex⯑cellens in arte, and he obtained ſo much mitigation as to have his right arm exempted from the liga⯑ture; he ſuffered the rack, and had the reſolution under his tor⯑tures not to criminate himſelf by [81] any confeſſion, not uttering a ſingle word. This circumſtance being related to Philip, he received him again into favour, and as Cano ſaw there was no abſolute ſafety but within the pale of the Church, he ſolicited the King with that view and was named Reſidentiary of Grenada: The Chapter objected to his nomination, and deputed two of their body to repreſent to Philip againſt the perſon of Cano, enumerating many diſqualifications and amongſt the reſt want of learning: The King diſmiſſed the Deputies bidding them proceed to admit his nomination, and tel⯑ling them that if Cano had been a man of learning, he ſhould per⯑haps have made him their Biſhop [82] and not a Reſidentiary. ‘"Prieſts like you (ſaid Philip) I the King can make at pleaſure, but God alone can create an Alonſo Cano;"’ uſing the ſame retort to theſe complainants, as Charles the Vth did to his courtiers in the caſe of Titiano: The Church of Gre⯑nada profited by his appointment, many ſculptures and paintings be⯑ing of his donation, and ſome he alſo beſtowed upon the church of Malaga. A Counſellor of Grenada having refuſed to pay the ſum of one hundred piſtoles for an image of San Antonio de Padua which Cano had made for him, he daſhed the Saint into pieces on the pave⯑ment of his academy, whilſt the ſtupid Counſellor was reckoning [83] up how many piſtoles per day Cano had earned whilſt the work was in hand: You have been five-and-twenty days carving this image of San Antonio, ſaid the niggardly arithmetician, and the purchaſe⯑money demanded being one hun⯑dred, you have rated your labour at the exorbitant price of four piſ⯑toles per day, whilſt I, who am a Counſellor and your ſuperior, do not make half your profits by my talents.—Wretch, cried the en⯑raged Artiſt, to talk to me of your talents—I have been fifty years learning to make this ſtatue in twenty-five days, and ſo ſaying he flung it with the utmoſt violence upon the pavement. The affright⯑ed Counſellor eſcaped out of the [84] houſe with the utmoſt precipita⯑tion, concluding that the man, who was bold enough to demoliſh a Saint, would have very little re⯑morſe in deſtroying a Lawyer. Happily for Cano the ſtory did not reach the ears of the Inquiſi⯑tors, elſe he would have had a ſe⯑cond rehearſal of his former tor⯑tures and the doom of Torrigiano; but he eſcaped with no other pu⯑niſhment than a ſuſpenſion from his function by the Chapter of Grenada, to which however he was reſtored by the King, but not un⯑till he had finiſhed a magnificent crucifix, which the Queen had commiſſioned him to carve and which he had long neglected to perform. This paſſed in the year [85] 1658; from this period to his death he led an exempiary life of great charity and devotion; when he had no money to beſtow in alms, which was frequently the caſe, he would call for paper and give a beggar a drawing, directing him where to carry it for ſale; but to Jews he bore ſuch antipathy that he conſidered every touch of theirs as a contamination, and in ſuch caſes would give away his cloaths, forbidding however his ſervant on whom he beſtowed them, on any account to wear what he had caſt off. On his death-bed he would not receive the ſacraments from a prieſt, who attended him, becauſe he had given them to the converted Jews; and from another [86] he would not accept the crucifix preſented to him in his laſt mo⯑ments, telling him it was ſo bung⯑ling a piece of work that he could not endure the ſight of it; in this manner died Alonſo Cano at the age of ſeventy-ſix in the year 1676; a circumſtance which ſhows that his ruling paſſion for the Arts ac⯑companied him in the article of death ſuperſeding even religion it⯑ſelf in thoſe moments, when the great intereſts of falvation natu⯑rally muſt be ſuppoſed to occupy the mind to the excluſion of every other idea.

Had it not been that the perſe⯑cution of his judges deprived Cano of that tranquillity, which is ſo ne⯑ceſſary to the very exiſtence of the [87] fine arts, I am inclined to think his talents would have produced a diſ⯑play ſuperior to any Spain had gi⯑ven birth to; in the early period of his life, when the great artiſts of Flanders thought a journey to Spain well repaid by ſurveying and copying his works, and when he had ſo ſtrong an idea in his mind of further excellence, that he re⯑fuſed payment for productions he regarded as imperfect, he could have given no greater evidence of the true ſpirit and native genius of an artiſt; the ſame ſpirit at⯑tended him to his laſt hour, the very eye that the hand of death was in the act of cloſing, and in which the light of life was all but abſolutely extinct, revolted with [88] abhorrence from a diſproportioned and ill-carved crucifix, though to that object the indiſpenſable duties of his religion were affixed. Strong indeed muſt be the enthuſiaſm of that Virtuoſo, who, when naked and ſtarving, was to refuſe enter⯑ing the door that was opened to him, becauſe the rules of archi⯑tecture were not obſerved in its conſtruction; if we may ſay of ſuch a man that he loved his art better than his life, we may pro⯑nounce of Cano in ſtronger terms that it was dearer to him than his ſoul.

How it happened that he avoided the Inquiſition when he broke Saint Antony in pieces is matter of juſt ſurprize; nor is it leſs to be won⯑dered [89] at that he eſcaped ſelf-crimi⯑nation on the rack; in that ſituation there is no defence but in abſolute ſilence; like the Divine Author of our religion to be dumb before our accuſers is in that caſe the only part which innocence can take. If it be true that the Inquiſition had its origin in the Cruſades, it is the legitimate child of perſecution, and has not degenerated from its ſtock to the preſent hour: Falſe accuſations are hard enough to bear, let them come from whom they may; but to be compelled falſely to accuſe one's ſelf is a re⯑finement on tyranny, for which mankind are indebted to the inge⯑nious cruelty of the Holy Office: The law, or, ſpeaking more pro⯑perly, [90] that abuſe of juſtice, which uſurps its name, and which at pre⯑ſent obtains in the afflicted and truly pitiable kingdom, where this account has chiefly been com⯑poſed, participates much of the nature of inquiſitorial proceedings, and I am in this place tempted to relate a fact, of which I was a very intereſted and anxious ſpectator, that will confirm what I have ad⯑vanced. I had in my family at Madrid a young man of exemplary character, who lived with me in great truſt and intimacy, and was a native of that city, univerſally known and reſpected in it; he had been my gueſt but one night, when the next day at the hour of dinner the officers of juſtice en⯑tered [91] my chamber, whilſt a party of ſoldiers paraded at my gates, demanding the body of this unfor⯑tunate victim; it was as vain to aſk to know the charge, as it was impracticable to avoid or reſiſt it; after conditioning for the removal of the ſoldiers, and ſome promiſes of humanity on the part of the judge, I ſurrendered to that ma⯑giſtrate a young man, born of Iriſh parents, red-haired, of a fair com⯑plexion, and without impediment in his gait or perſon. I mention theſe circumſtances becauſe this officer and his alguazils were in ſearch of his direct oppoſite in every particular, viz. of an old felon, an Aſturian, black as a gyp⯑ſey and lame in one of his feet by [92] a natural defect in its formation. In ſpite of the evidence of his own eyes, the judge conducted my gueſt to priſon, hand-cuffed and hauled between two fiend-like al⯑guazils, in the ſight of hundreds of ſpectators, who followed him through the ſtreets ſilently com⯑paſſionating his ignominy and miſ⯑fortune. The next day his books, papers and effects were ſeized and rummaged, where fortunately they found no food for the Holy Office, nor offence againſt the ſtate. In the regular courſe of proceeding he ſhould have laid in priſon ten or twelve years, if nature could have ſubſiſted for that time, before he was allowed to ſee his judge; but at my inſtance he was ſpeedily [93] admitted to an examination, and I place it juſtly amongſt the many marks of kindneſs I was diſtinguiſh⯑ed with in that kingdom, that juſtice was made ſo to quicken her cuſto⯑mary pace on my account. When he was brought before the judge, though every feature in his face ſwore to the miſtake of his com⯑mitment, the neceſſary forms of inquiſition were not to be paſſed over and he was called upon to re⯑collect all the paſſages of his life and converſation, and to gueſs the cauſe for which he was arreſted and impriſoned: In perfect ſim⯑plicity of heart he expoſed to his inquiſitor all his hiſtory and habits of life with the whole of his cor⯑reſpondence and acquaintance, as [94] well as a diſturbed imagination could bring it to recollection: When this had paſſed and happily nothing had dropt on which his judge could faſten any new matter of crimination, he was coolly in⯑formed he did not anſwer to the deſcription of the felon they were in ſearch of, and that he was at li⯑berty to return to the place from which he came.

To ſuch uneven hands is the ſcale of juſtice delegated in ſome ſtates; with ſuch tenants are the towers of Segovia and Cadiz peopled; and who that reflects on this, and has the ſentiments and feelings of a man, but muſt regret, nay execrate, that narrow, impious and impolitic principle of intole⯑rancy [95] and perſecution, which drives our Catholic ſubjects in ſhoals to ſeek a ſubſiſtence in a hoſtile ſervice? Let the Engliſh reader excuſe this ſhort digreſſion, whilſt he can ſay within himſelf, My houſe is my caſtle, I ſhall know my charge, and face my accuſers; I cannot be left to lan⯑guiſh in a priſon and when I am called to trial, I ſhall not be made to criminate myſelf; nor can I, if I would. Of ſuch a conſtitution we may juſtly glory; our fathers have bled to eſtabliſh it, and if in the courſe of this unequal war we follow our ſons to the grave who die in its defence, we have not bought our privilege too dear, however painful may have been [96] the purchaſe. Before I quite diſ⯑miſs this account it may be ſome ſatisfaction to humanity to know that I extracted the above gentle⯑man ſafely out of Spain.

Don Juan de Alfaro y Gamon of Cordova was a painter of too great eminence to be paſſed over in ſilence; he was educated under Caſtillo, and compleated his ſtudies with Velazquez at Madrid, whoſe ſtile he copied, particularly in his portraits; in his latter manner he inclined more to the ſimplicity and nature of Vandyke, and ſome of his paintings, particularly upon a reduced ſize, are not with cer⯑tainty to be diſtinguiſhed from that maſter: Alfaro attached himſelf to the Admiral of Caſtile and [97] lived in his family with the greateſt intimacy and friendſhip till the time of the admiral's exile; upon that event the diſconſolate Alfaro could no longer ſupport a reſi⯑dence in Madrid and retired to Cordova his native city in 1678; here he lived in great privacy and obſcurity, and an edict having been publiſhed for taxing pictures ad valorem, Alfaro then ſore with the loſs and misfortunes of his friend, and indignant againſt a principle ſo diſcouraging to the arts, totally abſtained from paint⯑ing, though his fame was at its height and his age not yet forty: Under this ſpirited ſelf-denial he was ſuffering infinite diſtreſſes, when information was brought of [98] the releaſement of his friend: To hear theſe glad tidings and to ſet out upon his journey of congratu⯑lation to Madrid was in Alfaro the operation of one and the ſame moment: His proviſion for the way was no impediment to his diſ⯑patch, and perhaps at that inſtant the concern never entered his mind; though the journey was long and the country difficult, yet the impulſe of an ardent affection ſmoothed all obſtacles; if Alfaro was deſtitute, yet he might pre⯑ſume upon encountering hoſpita⯑lity by the way, and if all other doors were ſhut againſt his neceſ⯑ſities the doors of convents are ever open to the wayfaring man and the poor. He arrived in Ma⯑drid [99] at length and haſtened to the palace of his patron and friend, but whether the meanneſs of his habit and appearance, or what other pretence operated for his re⯑pulſe does not appear, but ſo it proved that upon repeated viſits he could not obtain admiſſion to an interview with the admiral; pierced to the heart with this cutting diſ⯑appointment, deſtitute of fortune and abandoned to deſpair, the too ſenſitive heart of Alfaro ſunk under the ſhock and a few days laid him in his grave, at the age of forty years in 1680. Thus periſhed one of the moſt ingenious and elegant artiſts, that Spain ever produced; a man deſcribed to have been of refined manners, and as it well [100] appears of a moſt ſoft and ſuſcep⯑tible ſpirit. A genius dedicated to ſcience or the ſtudy of the fine arts is ſeldom capable of ſurmount⯑ing thoſe worldly rubs, which in⯑gratitude, or diſtreſs, or inſult are for ever throwing in the way; ſuch men ſhould only tread in flowery paths through life, the thorns and briars which coarſer feet either trample upon without pain, or kick aſide with indiffer⯑ence, in them produce wounds and rankling ſores, that in the end too frequently prove mortal, and from ſlight offences become ſerious evils: The fair ſex and the fine arts ſhould be treated with equal deli⯑cacy: Genius and Beauty, like bloſſoms of the choiceſt plants, [101] are not to be touched by profane and vulgar hands, but foſtered with the tendereſt attention and reſpect.

I come now to ſpeak of the ten⯑der and natural Murillo, a painter better known in England than any of the Spaniſh ſchool except Ri⯑bera, and yet I very much doubt whether any hiſtorical groupe or compoſition of Murillo's is in En⯑gliſh hands; at leaſt my enquiry has not aſcertained any ſuch to be ſound: It is of courſe a very im⯑perfect meaſure of his merit we can take in this country: The great Hiſtorical Paintings of the Life of Jacob in the poſſeſſion of the Marquis de Santiago at Ma⯑drid are the fineſt compoſitions [102] which I have ſeen of Murillo, and was I to follow no better authority than the impreſſion left on my feelings by thoſe wonderful repre⯑ſentations of nature, and put to make at once an unſtudied choice, I am inclined to think I ſhould take thoſe canvaſſes before any I have ever ſeen, one miracle of art alone excepted, the Venus of Ti⯑tiano. His Catholic Majeſty has ſeveral beautiful paintings by Ma⯑rillo in his collection, but his great ſcriptural pieces are in religious incareeration at Seville; that was the place of his reſidence and there he has left the moſt numerous mo⯑numents of his ſame: A ſtudent or lover of painting, who comes to Spain for edification or amuſe⯑ment, [103] ought by all means to viſit the city of Seville; from this place our collectors have extracted what few pictures of value they have drawn out of Spain, and in this number ſome few ſingle figures of Murillo and more, that aſſume his name, may be included. A late edict of the preſent King in its preamble recites this circumſtance of the extraction of Murillo's pic⯑tures and gives the ſtricteſt order to the officers of his cuſtoms for its prevention; but what mandate may not be evaded by the con⯑trivance of packages or the cor⯑ruption of cuſtom-houſe officers? Valencia, Cordova, Granada con⯑tain a magazine of paintings, and in ſome caſes even the hands of [104] Monks may be made to quit their hold; in the little wretched con⯑vent of San Placido at Madrid there are pictures by Guercino, Ve⯑lazquez, Coello and others of ineſ⯑timable value; the reputed re⯑licque of a ſaint though cut from a gibbet, might perhaps move ſome of them from their frames, and thus although it could not be ſaid to work miracles itſelf, it might purchaſe thoſe who did. Was it the policy of Spain to emancipate ſome of her treaſures in art, and put them into circulation through Europe, according to my idea it would anſwer to her in point of intereſt and reputation and be the means of drawing fo⯑reigners to extend their tour into [105] her now-unviſited dominions. Not⯑withſtanding the ſeverity of this edict, it was my good fortune, not ſurreptitiouſly, but under favour of his Catholic Majeſty's generous and condeſcending indulgence to bring out of Spain ſome few valu⯑able ſamples of the great Spaniſh maſters, with a compoſition of Vandyke's of undoubted originality obtained by a moſt happy acci⯑dent; the cloth is nine feet by ſix and the compoſition a dead Chriſt, the body ſupported by Mary the ſiſter of Martha and Mary Mag⯑dalene, two angels kneel at the feet and a cherubim in tears points to his wounds; the ſize is that of nature, and I may add ſo is the expreſſion: This picture; before [106] it was upon ſale, was in the hands of Mengs and ſerved him for a ſtu⯑dy: The attitude and air of the head of the firſt Mary he has evi⯑dently tranſcribed into his picture on the ſame ſubject in the Madrid palace, with this difference that he has transferred it to his San Juan. The rigour of our cuſtom-houſe in London, and my fruitleſs ſolici⯑tation for obtaining an exemption from the royal import duties on pictures to be meaſured by the foot, put me to the painful obli⯑gation of opening a roll, which the King of Spain's painters had contrived with the utmoſt care and attention, ſo that, notwithſtanding I had every indulgence from the executive officers that their duty [107] could admit of, this canvaſs and one by Velazquez in a very tender ſtate received injury. I ſhould not have preſumed upon interpoſing this anecdote, but in the hope that ſome one of my readers may repine at this regulation ſo inimical to the fine arts, whoſe intereſt may ex⯑tend to procure its abolition.

Bartolomè Eſtevan Murillo, or as he is commonly ſtiled the Spaniſh Vandyke, was deſcended from a fa⯑mily of reſpectable rank in the province of Andaluſia, and in times paſt diſtinguiſhed for their opu⯑lency and poſſeſſions: The ſmall town of Pilas, about five leagues diſtant from Seville, has the honour of being the place of his birth, which was in the year 1613. Caſ⯑tillo, [108] of whom we have frequently ſpoken, was his uncle by the mo⯑ther's ſide, and in his academy at Seville he received his firſt inſtruc⯑tions: How long he ſtudied under this maſter I cannot determine, but I take for granted not to the time of Caſtillo's death, for he muſt have been thirty-ſeven years of age at that period. His firſt manner was rather black and inky, and indeed the colouring of Caſtillo afforded no good example to his diſciples; in all other re⯑quiſites he was competent to the profeſſion of a teacher. It was then the cuſtom for the young no⯑vitiates to expoſe their productions at the fair, held annually in the city of Seville; many of Murillo's [109] firſt pictures were purchaſed in this manner, and ſo many were bought up and exported to the Weſt India colonies, that it has given riſe to a falſe tradition of his having gone thither in perſon. Velazquez was painting at the height of his repu⯑tation in Madrid, when Murillo conceived the ambition of viſiting that capital and introducing him⯑ſelf to the notice of that eminent profeſſor. Velazquez was of too liberal a genius, and withal too intuitive in his art, to reject the advances of a man of talents and a countryman: He admitted young Murillo into his academy, and a new ſcene inſtantly preſented itſelf to his view: Here he had acceſs to every thing which the Royal [110] collections contained, and he was too ardent in the proſecution of his art not to profit by the oppor⯑tunity: He copied ſeveral of the beſt paintings of Titiano, Rubens and Vandyke, by which he greatly improved his method of colour⯑ing: After a proper time thus ſpent under the eye of Velazquez, Murillo returned to Seville, and began to reſume the practice of his art, but with ſuch advantages in point of improvement, and with ſo much force of nature and ex⯑preſſion, that his fellow citizens were in aſtoniſhment, and as Mu⯑rillo was of a ſolitary and ſtudious turn of mind, it was reported ge⯑nerally and believed, that he had ſequeſtered himſelf in ſome retire⯑ment [111] for the purpoſe of a cloſer application to the ſtudy of nature, and that the pretence of an expe⯑dition to Madrid was held out to cover the circumſtance of his non⯑appearance at Seville. He now performed his firſt great work in freſco, being the Hiſtory of San Franciſco, ſtill to be ſeen in the famous cloyſter of that convent; all the figures in this compoſition are portraits, in which practice I am inclined to think he perſiſted; for it is in a cloſe and lively imi⯑tation of nature he principally ex⯑cels; all his forms have a national peculiarity of air, habit and coun⯑tenance; nothing of the academy is to be diſcovered in his groupes: His Madonnas, his Saints and even [112] his Saviours have the Spaniſh caſt of features; and though he often⯑times adopts a beautiful expreſſion of nature, there is generally a pea⯑ſant-like ſimplicity in his ideas, holding a middle place between the vulgarity of the Flemings and the elegant guſto of the Italians. In his Ruſtics we behold the life it⯑ſelf, with a minute obſervance of Coſtuma. There are many figures of Chriſt at the age of eight or ten years, of magic luſtre and tranſpa⯑rency of hue, with a characteriſtic expreſſion of the eyes, that appears to me to be peculiar and by itſelf; ſtill there is a mark and caſt of fea⯑tures, that to any man who is verſed in Andaluſian countenances will appear ſtrikingly provincial. [113] His Baptiſt and his Saints, parti⯑cularly San Franciſco Xavier give inſtances occaſionally of great ſub⯑limity; but it is a ſublimity, that neither forces nor enlarges nature; truth and ſimplicity are never out of ſight: It is what the painter ſees, not what he conceives, which is preſented to you: Herein he is diſtinguiſhable from his preceptor Velazquez; that great maſter by his courtly habits and intercourſe with the great contracted a more proud and ſwelling character, to which the ſimple and chaſte pen⯑cil of Murillo never ſought to aſ⯑pire; a plain and penſive caſt, ſweetly attempered by humility and benevolence, marks his can⯑vaſs; and on other occaſions, [114] where it is of neceſſity impaſſioned or inflamed, it is the zeal of devo⯑tion, the influx of pious inſpira⯑tion, and never the guilty paſſions he exhibits; in ſhort from what he ſees he ſeparates what he feels, and has within himſelf the coun⯑ter-type of almoſt every object he deſcribes. So far from having ever quitted Spain as Joachim de Sandart and others have aſſerted, I believe he never made a ſecond journey to Madrid: In the year 1670, when he muſt have been fifty-ſeven years old, an Immacu⯑late Conception of his painting was exhibited at Madrid, in the great proceſſion of the Corpus Chriſti, to the admiration and ſur⯑prize of the whole court and city; [115] many of his works could not then have reached Madrid, much leſs could he have practiſed and reſided in that capital, where this picture was regarded as ſo new and extraor⯑dinary a phenomenon, that appli⯑cation was immediately made to his friend Don Franciſco Emminente to intercede with him to come up to Madrid; and this was done by order of King Charles the IId, then on the throne, with a promiſe of appointing him one of his Royal Artiſts: Murillo, whoſe love of retirement and attachment to his native city of Seville was not to be ſuperſeded by any conſiderations of intereſt or ambition, excuſed himſelf from the propoſal on ac⯑count of his age; Emminente [116] finding it impoſſible to prevail with him to accept the royal offer of becoming one of the court art⯑iſts and of reſiding at Madrid, was commiſſioned to deſire that he would ſend up ſome ſpecimen of his performances, that ſhould be equal in merit to the picture he had exhibited at the ſolemnity above-mentioned, for which he ſhould be rewarded with ſuitable munificence: To this meſſage Murillo could oppoſe no abſolute excuſe, but at the ſame time eva⯑ded an immediate compliance by requiring a longer ſpace of time for executing the commiſſion, than the impatience and curioſity of the King could diſpenſe with: In the mean time therefore Emminente [117] was employed in procuring ſome pieces of his painting for the Royal Collection; and hearing that Mu⯑rillo had given his uncle Caſtillo a painting of San Juan in the De⯑ſart, he purchaſed that famous pic⯑ture for the ſmall ſum of 125 dol⯑lars, now in the palace of Madrid, a very beautiful ſample of the maſter in his cleareſt manner; ſeveral others were afterwards obtained, and now remain in the royal poſ⯑ſeſſion, particularly one of exqui⯑ſite beauty and expreſſion, repre⯑ſenting the Saviour carrying a lamb on his ſhoulder: The bulk of his productions are ſtill to be found at Seville, and the edict above-men⯑tioned, which particularly refers to the works of Murillo, ſerves to [118] ſhow with what jealouſy the court of Spain guards the poſſeſſion of theſe valuable remains of his art. Beſides the famous cloyſter of San Franciſco, which we have already noticed, there is at Seville in the chriſtening chapel of the church of the Miraculous Paduan a celebrated picture by this author, repreſent⯑ing San Antonio with Chriſt under a glory of Cherubims, the back ground giving the perſpective of part of a temple of admirable archi⯑tecture; and by the ſide of the Saint is a table, on which is placed a jar with lillies, ſo naturally re⯑preſented, that the monks relate the ſtory of a ſmall bird attempt⯑ing to reſt upon the flowers to pick the ſeeds; a compliment, which [119] probably has been paid to many an inferior artiſt, but which the Fathers after their manner enlarge upon with rapture. It is dwelling longer on a trifle than it merits, to obſerve to the reader that the whole back ground of this picture, including the lillies in queſtion, was put in by Valdez a contemporary artiſt, ſo that we muſt reſt the cre⯑dit of Murillo upon ſome better teſtimony than that of the monks and their ſmall birds^*. In the ſame church there are two fine por⯑traits of Leander and Iſidor, bro⯑thers and archbiſhops of Seville; alſo two compoſitions on the birth [118] [...] [119] [...] [120] of our Saviour, accompanied with Angels and a glory of Cherubims in his beſt manner and brighteſt colouring. In the church of the Capuchins in the ſame city they have no leſs than ſixteen pictures upon canvaſs by Murillo, one of which he diſtinguiſhed by calling it Su Lienzo; the ſubject is San Tomas of Villaneuva diſtributing alms to a number of poor objects: In this compoſition the genius of the painter has its full ſcope and diſplay, which was never ſo hap⯑pily employed as in the repreſenta⯑tion of nature in its ſimpleſt and moſt ordinary forms; the perſons, who are receiving the charity of the Saint, are diſpoſed with great variety of character and effect, par⯑ticularly [121] a man in the fore-ground with his back turned to the ſpecta⯑tor, that has a ſtriking force of clear-obſcure. In the high altar of the ſaid church is a picture ſix yards in heighth, repreſenting the Jubilee of the Porciuncula, illu⯑minated with a glory; Chriſt is drawn with the croſs looking at his Holy Mother, who ſtands on his right hand in the act of inter⯑ceſſion to him for the grant deſ⯑cribed in the picture, with a va⯑riety of beautiful Angels attend⯑ing; this altar-piece has been ce⯑lebrated by all artiſts and others who have ſeen and examined it. In the Church of the Charity there are ſeveral pictures, particu⯑larly one which repreſents Saint [122] John of God carrying a poor man; an Angel ſupports him in his cha⯑ritable office, and the Saint re⯑gards him with a look of venera⯑tion and gratitude, that is beauti⯑fully conceived. There is in this church a picture of Saint Eliza⯑beth, Queen of Hungary, in the act of healing a poor leprous man; a Moſes ſtriking the Rock, and a repreſentation of the Miracle of Loaves and Fiſhes, in which he has diſpoſed a numerous collection of people in ſo many attitudes, with ſuch variety of dreſſes, faces and ages, that it forms one of the moſt ſtriking groupes any where to be ſeen.

Murillo executed many pictures for Cadiz; there is one ſtill to be [123] ſeen on the high altar of the church of San Phelipo Neri; alſo a grand compoſition on a canvaſs near ſix yards high, repreſenting Chriſt with Mary and Joſeph, and above God and the Holy Ghoſt with a glory of Angels, in the poſſeſſion of the family of Pedroſo.

In the city of Grenada ſome works of Murillo are to be found, particularly a Good Shepherd greatly celebrated in the Sanctu⯑ary of the Nuns of the Angel; alſo a ſmall piece in the Prior's cell of the Carthuſian convent, re⯑preſenting the Immaculate Con⯑ception. There are ſome at Cor⯑dova on ſcriptural ſubjects in the poſſeſſion of the Religious, and many are in private hands through⯑out [124] the kingdom, but of theſe the moſt valuable belong to the Mar⯑quis de Santiago at Madrid; they conſiſt of five grand compoſitions exhibiting the Life of Jacob in the different periods of his hiſtory, as I before obſerved; theſe pictures were originally in the collection of the Marquis de Villamanrique: The firſt deſign was to have had the Life of David painted by Murillo, and the landſcapes or back-grounds by. Ignacio Iriarte of Seville, who excelled in that branch of the art; Murillo deſired Iriarte to make the landſcapes and he would after⯑wards place the figures; Iriarte on the other hand contended for Mu⯑rillo's placing the figures before he filled up the back-grounds; to re⯑medy [125] this difficulty Murillo exe⯑cuted the whole without Iriarte's aſſiſtance, taking Jacob's hiſtory inſtead of David's, and thus it came to paſs that theſe extraordinary pictures remain a monument of Murillo's genius in every branch of the art, and a treaſure truly ineſ⯑timable in the poſſeſſion of a fa⯑mily, which by the precaution of an abſolute entail has guarded a⯑gainſt any future poſſibility of alie⯑nation. The ſame gentleman has a Madona with the infant Jeſus, highly finiſhed and in moſt perfect preſervation, the Madona painted to the knees; I have an engraving from this picture: The Madona appears to be a portrait, and not of a beautiful ſubject; in this piece [126] the art is much ſuperior to the de⯑ſign. But there are in the ſame collection two full-length pictures, companions in ſize and excellence, which are ſuperior to all the works of this author in the Royal collec⯑tion, and which no ſtranger of taſte, who viſits Madrid, ſhould fail to ſee; the one a Saint Joſeph leading by the hand a Chriſt of the age of eight or ten years, and over head a glory of Cherubims, the back ground a landſcape in a grand ſtile and exquiſite harmony; the other, a Saint Francis Xavier in a ſublime and elevated attitude, his eyes raiſed to Heaven with great ſpirit and enthuſiaſm, whilſt a ſtream of light ſmites on his breaſt, which is bare, and viſibly conveys [127] to him the inſpiration of the Deity, previous to the commencement of his miſſion amongſt the ſavages of America, repreſented at diſtance in the back ground in a conſider⯑able groupe amidſt a ſcene finely varied with ſea and land. Theſe two pictures are ſufficient to im⯑mortalize the name of Murillo; they appear to me to poſſeſs every perfection, of which the art is ca⯑pable, both in reſpect of deſign as well as execution: As I have never received any competent idea of a picture from deſcription, I may reaſonably deſpair of conveying any by it.

I have ſeen ſeveral portraits by Murillo; they are in general a ſimple repreſentation of nature, [128] according to truth, without any of thoſe ingenious aids and devices, by which modern artiſts, eſpecially thoſe of England, embelliſh their characters, and beſtow employ⯑ment and importance upon the idle and inſignificant. In the church of the Venerables at Seville there is a portrait of the Canon Don Fauſtino de Nebes univerſally ad⯑mired; he is attended by a little Engliſh dog, at which a parcel of curs are barking, the whole ex⯑preſſed with ſingular ſpirit, and is the only emblematical accompani⯑ment, that has come to my notice in any of Murillo's portraits. I have never heard of more than two portraits of himſelf by his own hand, from one of theſe I am told [129] an engraving was made in Flanders by Nicholas Amazurino. Murillo was in his perſon graceful, of a mild and humble deportment and an expreſſive handſome counte⯑nance; to the allurements of in⯑tereſt or ambition he was equally inſenſible; he reſiſted, as we have ſeen, the offers of Charles, and at his death was found poſſeſſed of one hundred rials, which he had received the day before, and ſixty dollars in a drawer: He was in his ſeventy-third year, when mount⯑ing a ſcaffold to make a painting of Saint Catherine for the convent of Capuchins at Cadiz, he fell, and, having already a rupture, bruiſed himſelf ſo as to bring on a violent increaſe of his diſorder; [130] but ſuch was the delicacy of his nature, that being unwilling to expoſe his infirmity to the exami⯑nation of a ſurgeon, he ſuffered in ſilence, and after ſome days an⯑guiſh a mortification taking place, with perfect compoſure he reſigned a life, tinged with no other exceſs, but that of an inherent modeſty, to which, having repeatedly ſa⯑crificed what is generally eſteemed moſt valuable in life, he laſtly gave up life itſelf.

Claudio Coello, of a reſpectable Portugueſe family, was a native of Spain, born in Madrid in the ſe⯑venteenth century, but in what preciſe year I have not been able to aſcertain; he was a relation of the famous painter Alonſo Sanchez [131] Coello, of whom we have already ſpoken. His father Fauſtino Coello was of the city of Tulbuſino in the biſhoprick of Viſco in Portugal. He was educated in the academy of the famous Franciſco Ricci pain⯑ter to King Philip III. and was his favourite diſciple; giving early and repeated proofs of an extraor⯑dinary genius he compleated his ſtudies under the tuition of this great maſter, by whoſe means he had acceſs to the royal collection, and copied many works of Titian, Rubens, Vandyke and others.

As Coello never travelled out of Spain and as few if any of his pic⯑tures are in private hands, there is little probability of any of his works being extracted from the [132] obſcurity in which they are im⯑mured; and I queſtion if his name has yet found its way beyond the confines of Spain or Portugal; as he was a native of Madrid and re⯑ſided there conſtantly, except when he was employed in the Eſcorial as a Royal Artiſt, many monu⯑ments of his genius are to be found in the convents and churches of that capital; theſe I have traced with an aſſiduity that has been richly repaid; for though I have had continual occaſion to regret the diſadvantageous poſition of his pictures in thoſe gloomy repoſita⯑ries, yet with the aſſiſtance of a moſt brilliant climate and the kind offices of the Fathers whom I have ever found ſtudious to aſſiſt [133] my curioſity, I have ſeen very excellent productions of his pencil; and though I cannot abſolutely cloſe with the enthuſiaſm of ſome of his living admirers who ſet Coello decidedly at the head of the Spaniſh ſchool, preferring him to Murillo, Ribera and even Velaz⯑quez, yet there can be no doubt but he is to be ranked in the claſs of the firſt, though perhaps not the firſt of the claſs. His ca⯑pital picture de la Colocazion de las Santas Formas, on which he expended ſeven years labour, is an amazing compoſition, and de⯑ſervedly maintains its rank at the altar of the grand ſacriſty of Saint Lorenzo in the Eſcorial, though in company with the productions [134] of Raphael, Titiano and the great⯑eſt Italian and Flemiſh maſters. I do not remember ever to have ſeen ſuch a ſtriking effect of clear⯑obſcure and force of perſpective. In the groupe of perſons who form the grand proceſſion of the collo⯑cation there are to be ſound the portraits of the King and all the principal nobility of his court, executed to the life itſelf; every thing is traced with the moſt maſ⯑terly and determined pencil. Such a majeſtic and orderly ſolemnity is obſerved in the arrangement of his figures, as beſpeaks the art of the compoſer, and ſuits the dignity of his ſubject; all the accompani⯑ments are in ſuch perfect harmony and the colouring of the parts ſo [135] rich and glowing with ſuch forcible but clear relief, that it forms the moſt raviſhing ſpectacle, that art can form, nor is it eaſy to call off the attention to the other great productions that enrich this in⯑eſtimable repoſitary, till the eye is in ſome degree ſatisfied with this ſtriking canvaſs.

As this picture is undoubtedly the chef d'oeuvre of Coello, it will not be neceſſary to enter upon a mi⯑nute enumeration of his works in the churches and convents of Ma⯑drid, Toledo and Zaragoſſa; it will ſuffice to obſerve that there is a Nativity by this maſter in the royal collection at Madrid, which hangs in the ſame room with the Adoration of Rubens and is a pic⯑ture [136] of very high pretenſions tho' in ſuch a neighbourhood. In the chapel of the nuns of Saint Pla⯑cido there is a large altar-piece of Coello's painting on the ſubject of the Incarnation; the Holy Vir⯑gin is diſplayed in the center of the piece, above is a glory of Angels, and in the fore-ground a groupe of Prophets and Sybils who announce the coming of the Meſ⯑ſias. This was the firſt compoſi⯑tion of Coello, and was executed by him whilſt in the ſchool of Franciſco Ricci. It is a piece in high eſtimation, but the unfavour⯑able light in which it is placed and its great height from the eye, (the figures being only of the natural ſize) ſcarce allow the ſpectator to [137] form any judgement of its excel⯑lence. In the ſame altar-piece, and in various parts of the ſame cha⯑pel there are many ſmaller paint⯑ings of Coello and ſome ſlight ſketches in the pannels of the al⯑tars of diſtinguiſhed merit: But of all the remains of this maſter thoſe which in my opinion deſerve to be ranked next to his altar-piece in the Eſcorial abovementioned are two pictures upon canvaſs in the valuable collection of the Carme⯑litiſh convent in the great ſtreet of Alcala; but theſe again are in ſuch lights, or more properly in ſuch want of light, that our gratifica⯑tion ſcarce balances our regret. On the whole it appears to me that if Coello's works could be [138] reprieved from their impriſonment, and were favourably diſpoſed a⯑mongſt the great collections of Europe they would hold a very diſtinguiſhed rank, wherever they were placed; of all the maſters of eſtabliſhed name and character I am of opinion he moſt reſembles Paulo Veroneſe; his draperies, colours and characters are moſtly of that caſt and his compoſitions fully on a level: In the nude I have ſeen no ſpecimens and I am inclined to believe there are few if any to be found. In the pic⯑tures belonging to the Carmelites, which refer to the legends of two Saints, of which I have loſt the remembrance, he is as natural and ſimple as Murillo, but with ſome⯑what [139] leſs ruſticity of manner; he is in no caſe ſo proud and ſwelling as Velazquez and though he has ſingular force in his clear-obſcure he is never ſo black and inky as Ribera, nor does he like him mar⯑tyr his Saints or delight in ſcenes of terror, although Coello was ſo remarkable for a melancholy and ſaturnine appearance that a cer⯑tain religious phyſiognomiſt ob⯑ſerving it to Franciſco Ricci pre⯑dicted boldly in disfavour of his genius; Ricci, with whom his pu⯑pil was in high eſteem, replied, Pues Padre virtudes vencen ſen̄ales.

Upon the death of Francis de Herrera, King Philip the IVth promoted Coello to be one of his painters at the inſtigation of Car⯑ren̄o, [140] and it was not till after the death of Carren̄o, as well as of Franciſco Rici that Coello begun to paint his famous picture of the Collocation; when he had com⯑pleated that work he returned to Madrid in the year 1689, liberally rewarded. In a ſhort time Luca Jordano was invited into Spain by King Charles the IId to paint the freſco of the great ſtaircaſe at the Eſcorial and for other works. His arrival, which took place in 1692, was ſo deeply reſented by Coello, that he totally declined any other undertaking, except putting the laſt hand to his great picture of Saint Stephen for the church of that Saint in Salamanca, which having finiſhed, he exhibited it in [141] the gallery of the grandees at the Pardo to the admiration of the whole court and no leſs ſo of Jor⯑dano himſelf. The reſentful ſpirit of Coello notwithſtanding this teſtimo⯑ny could never be induced to brook the interpoſition of a rival, and af⯑ter venting himſelf in many bitter ſatires and invectives againſt Jor⯑dano, to which he was naturally too much addicted, he ſickened and ſoon after died in 1693, to the general regret of all who admired his many great and eminent talents; with this melancholy aggravation to the regret which his death univerſally occaſioned, that it was owing to the effects of envy and chagrin ope⯑rating on a moſt implacable tem⯑per, [142] which all his eminent talents could not conquer or correct.

Don Juan Nin̄o de Guevara, born in Madrid, was a ſon of the cap⯑tain of the guards of the Vice-king of Arragon, under whoſe protec⯑tion he was put to ſtudy painting under Don Miguel de Manrique a ſcholar of Rubens. He afterwards removed to Madrid and became a ſcholar of Alonſo Cano's, and is ſuppoſed to have excelled his maſ⯑ter. He reſided chiefly at Malaga where he married a lady of noble birth. In this city he died in his ſixty-ſeventh year, 1698.

Luca Jordano's works in Spain are both numerous and conſider⯑able: He arrived at Madrid in May 1692 by the invitation of Charles [143] the IId, who appointed a very li⯑beral allowance for his journey giving him the ſteel key on his arrival, though he was now in his ſixty-fourth year. He has no where left greater proofs of that diſpatch in his art, for which he ſtands re⯑markable to a proverb; in the ſpace of two years he covered an im⯑menſe compaſs of cieling with freſco in the church and ſtaircaſe of the Eſcorial. Of all his freſcos that of the ſtaircaſe repreſenting the famous battle of Saint Quin⯑tin and the taking of Montmo⯑renci is in the higheſt eſtimation. It certainly forms a magnificent diſplay of colour and deſign, tho' neither the lights nor the archi⯑tecture ſet it off with any advan⯑tage; [144] the ſtaircaſe is not uncom⯑monly ſpacious and of itſelf offers nothing to the eye, but a melan⯑choly maſs of ſtone-work of the dulleſt hue, unrelieved by any or⯑der or ornament whatſoever. He remained in Spain till the death of Charles the IId and accompanied King Philip to Naples in the year 1702; in that period he executed a number of compoſitions in vari⯑ous manners and with various de⯑grees of merit at Madrid, the Eſ⯑corial and at Toledo: His freſcos in the Buen Retiro are well pre⯑ſerved although that palace is quite diſmantled, and are very repu⯑table productions. His facility in aſſuming the ſtiles of different maſters is well known, and Charles [145] the IId never put his talents to better uſe, than when he employ⯑ed them in copying his capital pictures. Some original hiſtories of his are admitted into the col⯑lection at the New Palace and that collection would certainly be no ſufferer by the exchange if his Ca⯑tholic Majeſty thought fit to ſuper⯑ſede theſe pictures by ſome of his ca⯑pital Baſſans which hang in neglect and obſcurity at the Retiro. It rarely happens that induſtry and addreſs unite in the ſame perſon; but Luca Jordano's application to his art was fully equal to the rapidity of his execution, and his oeconomy was equal to either: It is not there⯑fore to be wondered at that he amaſſed a conſiderable fortune in [146] Spain and elſewhere; impatient to return to his native country, he did not long furvive that wiſhed⯑for event, and died at Naples in 1704 at the age of 76. His ſchool under Franciſco Solimena languiſhed for a time; but Italy after this pe⯑riod produced few or no painters of any eminence.

I have now carried down my account to the death of Charles the IId, which concludes the ſe⯑venteenth century and places ano⯑ther family on the throne of Spain. Beyond this period I have purſued no particular enquiries; as to the preſent ſtate of arts and improve⯑ments in Spain few people are in need of information, and I ſhould unwillingly draw any compariſons, [147] which might not be in favour of living profeſſors. If Spain during the prefent century has not pro⯑duced ſo many eminent painters as in thoſe we have been review⯑ing, the circumſtance is by no means peculiar to Spain as a king⯑dom; the declenſion has been as great in Flanders and in France; in Italy much greater: The Princes of the Houſe of Bourbon, who have reigned in Spain, cannot be charged with having ſtarved the cauſe, if expence be the meaſure of encouragement: The warmeſt admirer of Mengs will not venture to ſay that his talents were not duly conſidered and rewarded by the prefent Sovereign, in whoſe pay and employ he died. The [148] reputation of this artiſt ſtood high in Europe, perhaps the higheſt; but he found no ſolid encourage⯑ment until he went into Spain; in Germany he painted miniatures and for England he painted co⯑pies; he was a fugitive from Dreſ⯑den and a beggar in Rome; in the court of the Catholic King he found honour and emolument and exerciſed his art in as reſpectable a ſtile as Titiano did under Charles the Vth, Coello under Philip the IId, or Velazquez in the favour of Philip the IVth: Certain it is that under theſe Princes Spain pro⯑duced many eminent painters and was reſorted to by the moſt diſ⯑tinguiſhed foreign maſters; but neither the good ſenſe of Charles, [149] the reſources of his ſucceſſor, nor the profeſſional experience of Phi⯑lip the IVth could of themſelves have created an age of painters in Spain, if the ſpirit of the nation had then been put under that ſub⯑jection and reſtraint, which ſubſe⯑quent connexions have impoſed upon it: A variety of cauſes may operate to depreſs national genius and character; not one of which may be abſolutely chargeable to the ac⯑count of the Sovereign: A very able Prince may indeed find out tempo⯑rary expedients to ſtem the torrent, when Art and Science are ruſhing to decay; but a man may mean very honeſtly and yet miſs the diſ⯑covery: When the introduction of ſoreign profeſſors into any king⯑dom [150] is the reſult of grace and fa⯑vour, they illuminate the country which receives them and rouſe its emulation; but when they enter it, as it were by preſcription and authority, it is much if the natives in ſuch a caſe are not either hur⯑ried into violence by reſentment, or rendered languid and inanimate by deſpair: Perhaps an enquiry into the proceedings of this cen⯑tury would ſhew that both theſe conſequences have obtained by turns in the caſe of Spain; habi⯑tudes and characters naturally diſ⯑ſimilar will hardly be brought in⯑to contact and alliance; and tho' the arbitrary hand of force may bend them into temporary approxi⯑mation againſt the grain, there is [151] much hazard in the compulſion and no ſecurity can be placed in ſuch uncertain acquieſcence.

It would not be eaſy to account for any rapid decline or ſudden dearth of art and ſcience, where there has been no want of encou⯑ragement or ſcarcity of employ, unleſs by referring to ſome ſuch over-ruling cauſe, as I allude to: People, who are curious to find a natural reaſon for every event in the hiſtory of the human mind, have in the map of their diſcove⯑ries laid down the ſprings and fountain-heads of genius in certain happy latitudes, as thoſe of Greece, Italy and Spain; but at the ſame time that a proper temperature of climate is acknowledged neceſſary [152] for the exerciſe of ſeveral elegant arts, and perhaps for the inveſti⯑gation of many uſeful ſciences, yet the hypotheſis which ſome adopt is far from ſatisfactory; it would not be eaſy to find a reaſon upon their principle, why the Athenians ſhould be ingenious and the The⯑bans dull; for whatever may have been ſaid of the fogs of Boeotia in poetical ridicule, truth would tell us that it was the thickneſs of intel⯑lect in the native which gave the cli⯑mate its character, and not the cli⯑mate which condenſed and clouded the brains of the inhabitants. There is reaſon to believe that the natives of old Rome, who were ſo diſtin⯑guiſhed in ſcience, were defective in arts; their painters, ſculptors [153] and architects were Greeks; mo⯑dern Rome on the contrary has figured more in arts and leſs in ſcience, than any other of the illu⯑minated ſtates of Europe; if her climate in the mean time has un⯑dergone an alteration, it has cer⯑tainly changed for the worſe: Whereas the air of Madrid by the amendment of its police muſt be greatly better, than it was when the Auſtrian princes ſate on the throne; and if climate is ever to come into conſideration, as a mo⯑ving cauſe of genius, it will leave us at a loſs to gueſs what kind of inſpiration could be drawn from the ſtench of Madrid in times paſt, which its preſent ſtate of pu⯑rity is not competent to produce; [154] for my part it is matter of ſur⯑prize to me, not only how talents could be exerted, but rather how life could be endured in ſuch an atmoſphere. If men will abſo⯑lutely account for every thing by ſyſtem, let them take that of cli⯑mate, it will ſerve as well as ano⯑ther: But to ſpeak naturally in the caſe, it is obſervable and without a doubt that the manners are changing; the high-minded inde⯑pendence of the Arragonians and the ſteady dignity of the Caſtilians are in the waine; the churches and convents faturated with virtù no longer make any demands upon the arts; the good Fathers have made a full meal and are fallen aſleep after it. When miniſters were [155] choſen from the body of the Nobles, the power of the ſtate was often lodged in elegant hands, and the whole order of Grandees ſeconded the example of the Crown by en⯑couraging talents; the policy of the preſent century has been to ex⯑clude the Nobility from any active ſhare in government, and under the ſhade of Royal jealouſy who can wonder if their dignity has drooped? Though the ambition of ſubjects may be dangerous to a Throne, it is oftentimes glorious to a ſtate: Shut out all the brighter proſpects of life from the view of the riſing generations, and you will ſoon choak the ſources of me⯑rit in the ſeeds of education; deſ⯑pondency quickly ends in igno⯑rance. [156] If the light of the ſun is to ſhine upon none but mercenaries and intruders, the natives who ſit in the ſhade may murmur for a while; but when the darkneſs thickens and the night falls heavy upon them, their faculties will grow torpid and they will ſleep away their lives and their reſent⯑ments in lazineſs and oblivion: When the dregs of the vulgar are ſet over the nobles and made rulers of the people, all conditions of men will be overthrown, no one will be found in his proper claſs and ſtation; the elevated party will exhibit but an awkward imitation of greatneſs, and by how much loftier the height ſo much lower will be the fall of the party de⯑preſſed. [157] Some people have argued againſt monarchy and deſpotiſm, as if they were death to all the li⯑beral arts; I have ſlightly adverted to this opinion in the foregoing pages and it is not pleaſant to hold an argument in oppoſition to it; but in the caſe of the par⯑ticular art, which is the object of the preſent diſcuſſion, experience has much to oppoſe to the advo⯑cate on the popular ſide of the queſtion; a ſtupid tyrant may in⯑deed make dreadful havock in the arts, and condemn whole ma⯑gazines of ſcience to the flames; a ſilly one, in the wantonneſs of miſchief, may find paſtime in de⯑facing Rafael and Corregio, and Muley Iſhmael himſelf never made [158] more deſtruction of the lives of men, than ſome have done of their repreſentatives; but inſtances of this ſort do not abound, and for the true deſtructive ſpirit of bar⯑bariſm I am apt to think nothing ever equalled your thorough-paced fanatic; ſuch levellers of mankind are levellers indeed, and the an⯑nals of their triumphs from the ſacking of Rome to the late con⯑ſlagrations in our capital, may give the challenge to all that deſpotiſm ever did from the foundation of ſociety.

To go back to the ſubject be⯑fore us, it is but juſt to obſerve that the public works of the pre⯑ſent reigning family in Spain have been both numerous and magni⯑ficent; [159] at the ſame time if we were to enter into a diſcuſſion of particulars, we ſhould find per⯑haps in each ſome reaſon, why a public work has failed of being a public benefit; to employ the arts is one thing, but to improve them is another: The ſumptuous gar⯑dens of San Ildefonſo involved a⯑mazing ſums; they gave employ⯑ment to a multitude of artiſts, who ſeem to have exhauſted their inge⯑nuity in deviſing modes of tortu⯑ring nature; the wilderneſs has at length with much reluctance ſub⯑mitted to the regular approaches of clipt hedges and formal par⯑terres; the mountain rills and wa⯑ter-falls are forced into pipes and made to ſquirt up again in the [160] ſhapes of flower-baſkets and pyra⯑mids to their primitive levels, or to trickle down a flight of ſtairs into the oval incloſure of a marble baſin. I need not obſerve that theſe gardens are laid out in the French taſte; the courtiers boaſt of them and perhaps in reality ad⯑mire them; but graver people think that the Wood-nymphs of Caſtile are not benefited by being tricked out in the frippery and furbelows of Verſailles.

The removals of the Court from one Sitio or country palace to another are regular to a day; in truth every movement of the pre⯑ſent Sovereign, whether of buſineſs or the chace, is methodized to a minute; the ſpring is apportioned [161] to Aranjuez, the ſummer to San Ildefonſo where the heats in part are avoided by paſſing to the northward of the Guadaramas; the autumnal months are ſpent at the Eſcorial and the winter at the Pardo; whilſt ſome occaſional but ſparing portions of the royal reſi⯑dence are beſtowed upon the capi⯑tal: Of all theſe royal Sitios fo⯑reigners have generally agreed to give the preference to Aranjuez, and in my opinion it deſerves to be preferred: I have never yet met with elms of ſo magnificent a growth; the ducts which are trained from the Tagus have forced them into an aſtoniſhing luxuri⯑ance, and the diſpoſition of the avenues and gardens, though in a [162] taſte of more formality than is now approved of in England, has more local merit than any of a newer faſhion would be found to have; the renegado Tagus, which deſerts its native kingdom to give a har⯑bour and commerce to Liſbon, has at leaſt beſtowed verdure and refreſhment upon Aranjuez in its paſſage: In ſome of the fountains and in the parterre adjoining to the palace there are ſamples of excel⯑lent ſculpture; in particular a groupe by Alexandro Algardi on the pedeſtal of which Philip the IIId has cauſed to be engraved the date of the year 1621; ſome Tri⯑tons by Alonſo Berruguete, and ſome ſtatues by Pompeyo Leoni: With reſpect to the palace both in point [163] of ornament and convenience much is owing to the improvements made by Philip the Vth and Ferdinand the VIth; the new chapel, which has been erected by the preſent King upon the plan of the royal architect Sabatini, is a moſt exqui⯑ſite model of beauty both in de⯑ſign and execution.

The new palace of Madrid, as a ſingle edifice, is probably the greateſt work in Europe of the preſent century. The antient caſtle of Madrid is ſuppoſed to have been erected by King Alonſo the VIth and overthrown by an earth⯑quake; Henry the IId built on the ſame foundation, and Henry the IVth made additions to the edi⯑fice: The Emperor Charles in the [164] year 1537 began to modernize and improve this palace, but made no great advances for the remainder of his reign; Philip the IId was occupied with his foundation of the Eſcorial, but the two monarchs next in ſucceſſion greatly enlarged and beautified the antient ſtruc⯑ture; ſome works were alſo added by Charles the IId, but the whole was finally reduced to aſhes on Chriſtmas evening in the year 1734. This event determined Philip the Vth to erect a new palace upon a ſcale of conſummate magnificence; the architect he choſe for this pur⯑poſe was the Abbè Don Felipe Ju⯑varra, a perſon of ſuperior talents and high in reputation throughout all Italy for many eminent works. [165] This man was born at Meſſina in 1683, he ſtudied architecture in Rome under the Chevalier Fon⯑tana: The King of Sardinia made him firſt royal architect, and gave him the rich abbey of Selve: He planned ſeveral buildings in Man⯑tua, Como, Milan and Rome: He went to Liſbon with permiſſion of the King of Sardinia and exe⯑cuted ſome deſigns for the King of Portugal in that capital. Upon the deſtruction of the palace of Madrid by fire, as above-men⯑tioned, he came to Spain by de⯑ſire of Philip the Vth, where, in obedience to his commiſſion he formed a model in wood of the moſt ſuperb edifice in the world, containing church, library, offices [166] of ſtate and all the appendages of royalty in the greateſt extent and ſplendor. This model is yet in exiſtence and was ſhown to me by the royal architect Sabatini before⯑mentioned, and is in truth a won⯑derful production: What the pa⯑lace of Nero may have been I can⯑not pretend to ſay, but I am cer⯑tain that Verſailles would have ſtood in no rank of competition with this of Juvarra's, had it been carried into execution; and this I was informed from the beſt autho⯑rity might have been done within the expence of the preſent more contracted edifice; Philip not de⯑ciding ſpeedily upon this plan, it became in time matter of miniſte⯑rial diſcuſſion and cabal, till after [167] much irkſome attendance and pro⯑craſtination, Juvarra was directed with many ſymptoms of disfavour to lower his projects, condemned as extravagantly vaſt, and to re⯑duce his ſcale to a more practi⯑cable proportion; the health of the architect was now declining apace; the vigour of a mind too ſenſitive for a court was exhauſted by diſappointment and chagrin, and the preſent plan, which com⯑paratively with the other is but the abortive offspring of an enfeebled parent, was ſoon followed by his death: The author being dead, it is little to be wondered at if many errata crept into his copy; more would have followed, if the timely interpoſition of Sabatini, who con⯑cluded [168] the building, had not corrected many things and ſup⯑plied others with diſtinguiſhed ability; an inſtance of this is the grand ſtair-caſe, the merit of which is entirely with him, and would do honour to the court of Auguſtus: The ſite of the edi⯑fice upon the antient foundation has been the main impediment and cauſe of many difficulties in the conſtruction of the whole; it has been thought neceſſary to give it ſuch a foundation, or rather em⯑bankment againſt the hill, after the manner of the terrace of the Adelphi, that as much maſonry has been expended below the ſur⯑face of the ground, as in the ſu⯑perſtructure; Juvarra's firſt ideas [169] had been directed to a ſpot with⯑out the walls of Madrid, where the nature of the ground admitted of a much greater diſplay upon the ſame ſcale of expence; and it can never be enough lamented that ei⯑ther this ſituation, or that of the old palace of the Retiro had not been choſen in preference: It is placed as I before obſerved upon the ſite of the antient caſtle, on the edge of a ſteep hill from which there is a precipitate deſcent to the river Manſanares, that forms a very meagre current in the bot⯑tom: This river, which is flattered with a very handſome bridge, has its fits of flowing, when the ſnow upon the neighbouring mountains of Guadarama condeſcends to melt [170] and make a vehicle of its channel; in the mean time it ſtands in no better capacity, as an auxiliary to the town of Madrid, than by ſerv⯑ing for the general waſhing-tub of the place; as an ornament to the palace it contributes little elſe in point of ſpectacle, but crowds of waſhing-women not the faireſt or moſt ſilent of their ſpecies, and rows of linen of every ſort, ſize and deſcription in uſe for either ſex hang up to dry upon its banks in view of the apartments: This palace, however faulty, is yet re⯑ſpectable in its exterior, and doubly ſo in its contents. Sabatini, who conducted the fitting, has collected an aſſemblage of every thing ſplen⯑did and ornamental that Spain [171] could offer to his choice; ſam⯑ples of the rareſt and moſt beauti⯑ful marbles from the quarries of Grenada and Andaluſia; prodi⯑gious plates of glaſs from the royal fabric at San Ildefonſo, and a pro⯑fuſion of porcelaine from the ma⯑nufactory in Madrid, of which ma⯑terial one entire roof is modelled in a rich and ſplendid caprice, not deficient in ſhapes or colouring. Much remains to be done in diſ⯑poſing the ground between it and the river, and his Majeſty is now adding wings and a corps of ſta⯑bling, which are far advanced. Beſides the pictures which it con⯑tains of the ſeveral maſters, whom we have mentioned in this ſhort review; there are many of the [172] great Italian and Flemiſh maſters, who have not come under conſi⯑deration according to the limitation of my plan; in particular the moſt celebrated picture of Rafael, called the Paſmo de Sicilia: This picture was painted by Rafael in Rome for the church of our Lady dello Spa⯑ſimo, or the Agony, and thence by contraction called Paſmo. Mengs in a letter written to Don Antonio Ponz a royal academician of Ma⯑drid, (which letter is publiſhed not only in Ponz's Viage de Eſpan̄a but again in a volume of Mengs' Works collected and made public ſince his death) gives a long and laboured deſcription of this pic⯑ture. As I cannot doubt but that theſe remains of Mengs will ſoon [173] find an Engliſh tranſlator and be given to the world entire, I am un⯑willing to anticipitate their publi⯑cation by any partial inſertions; I ſhould elſe be happy in the occa⯑ſion of rendering theſe pages more intereſting by copying into them the obſervations of an Artiſt and Author, who will univerſally be ſuppoſed maſter of his ſubject. I ſhould doubt if Paſchall ever ſtu⯑died the Bible more cloſely than Mengs ſtudied Rafael: He ob⯑ſerves upon this picture in general that all the world have given teſti⯑mony to its excellence, with an exception of one depreciator only in the perſon of Count Malvaſia. Ponz quotes ſome paſſages from Malvaſia reſpecting this very pic⯑ture; [174] I have not ſeen Malvaſia's publication; but from theſe quota⯑tions it appears that his intention is to run a compariſon between the Roman ſchool and that of Bologna, in contradiction to the general opi⯑nion for preferring the former; with this deſign Malvaſia brings Rafael and Guido Aſpertini toge⯑ther under review, and in the courſe of his examination ſlight⯑ingly adverts to the picture above⯑mentioned, ſaying that Philip the IVth of Spain was betrayed into the purchaſe by the encomiums, which Vaſari had laviſhly pub⯑liſhed of it, and which he would inſinuate far exceeded its merit. This publication of Malvaſia drew an anſwer from the celebrated Ca⯑non [175] Don Vicente Victoria of Valencia, a diſciple of the Roman ſchool, and a painter of conſider⯑able eminence; the work was wrote in Italian and publiſhed at Rome in 1703 in ſix books, with a dedication to the Lovers of Paint⯑ing. The controverſy was now fairly ſet on foot, and diſputants were not wanting to enliſt on either ſide: The ſchool of Bologna was piqued to ſupport their champion, however deſperate the conteſt, and Juan Pedro Zanoti, a painter of that city, took up the defence of Malvaſia and entered the liſts againſt the ingenious Canon of Valencia: How much farther the controverſy proceeded, I have not been intereſted to enquire: Vic⯑toria, [176] as quoted by Ponz, obſerves that Philip the IVth, whoſe judge⯑ment was univerſally acknow⯑ledged, held this picture in the higheſt admiration and eſteem; and that ſo far from warranting the inſinuation of Malvaſia that he had been drawn in by the praiſes of Vaſari to make a loſing bargain with the Monks of Palermo, he always diſtinguiſhed this ineſti⯑mable piece from all others in his collection by terming it la Joya. The agreement which he made with the Convent of our Lady dello Spaſimo was for the annual rent of one thouſand ſcudi; and the ſubject of the compoſition be⯑ing that of our Saviour bearing his Croſs to Mount Calvary, Phi⯑lip [177] affixed the picture to the high altar of his royal chapel in Ma⯑drid; it has lately been annexed to the collection in the palace, and Mengs in his remarks upon it, ad⯑verting to this diſparaging account given by Malvaſia, treats his opi⯑nion and the whole of his pub⯑lication with a contemptuous ſe⯑verity, which all who are advo⯑cates for the ſuperiority of the Ro⯑man ſchool will think this author deſerves. It is well known that this ineſtimable picture was fortu⯑nately weighed up out of the ſea, in which it had ſunk and as it is ſaid without any material damage, but of this latter fact I am in⯑clined to doubt, at leaſt if this ac⯑cident was the occaſion of the re⯑pair [178] by which it has evidently ſuf⯑fered. The ſubject of this picture as before-mentioned, is that of the Saviour bearing his Croſs to Mount Calvary, deſigned in the back⯑ground, and he is in that imme⯑diate action of prophecy, in which he ſays to the women who ſur⯑round him weeping, Daughters of Jeruſalem, weep not for me, &c. &c. The mother of Jeſus is de⯑ſcribed in a ſupplicating poſture interceding for pity from the ſol⯑diers and ſpectators for her Son, who exhauſted with fatigue and anguiſh has fallen to the earth un⯑der the weight of that inſtrument of torture, with which he is pro⯑ceeding to execution. Saint John and the two Maries compoſe the [179] groupe about the Mother of our Lord: Mary Magdalen is in the act of addreſſing herſelf to the Sa⯑viour; his action is undeſcribably touching and ſignificant; with his right hand he embraces the Croſs under which he is ſinking; his left is ſtretehed out in a ſtile of great expreſſion and grandeur ſuitable to thoſe moving and ſolemn predic⯑tions which he is delivering; the attitudes and employments of the guards and ſpectators in beautiful gradation compoſe the miniſterial and ſubſervient parts in the tra⯑gedy and compleat its pathos. One ſoldier unfeelingly drags the divine ſufferer by a cord drawn tightly round his waiſt; another ſtrives to replace the croſs upon his [180] ſhoulder with one hand, and armed with a lance in the other in a me⯑nacing attitude urges him to re⯑ſume his burthen; a third, whom the ſpectacle appears to have in⯑ſpired with ſome impreſſion of pity, is aſſiſting to ſupport the weight of the croſs, and in a beautiful manner contraſts the relentleſs brutality of his comrades. The countenance of the Saviour is a compoſition that can only reſult from the pureſt imagination and the moſt perfect execution: Art perhaps never equalled it and na⯑ture cannot exceed it, nor is the expreſſion ſuch as mere humanity, without a ſupernatural alliance with the Deity, can be ſuppoſed to have; it is impregnated with [181] all that divinity, which ſacred ſtory gives to the perſon deſigned; no ſorrow was ever more deeply painted; the eyes are ſuffuſed with tears, the forehead and temples bathed in blood which diſtils from the crown of thorns, yet the di⯑vine beauty of the viſage is not diſturbed, nor its majeſty impair⯑ed; meekneſs and reſignation are truly charactered, but it is a meek⯑neſs that does not detract from dignity, and a reſignation that has no connection with deſpair; a look of celeſtial benevolence, which ſeems to triumph over affliction, illuminates the whole viſage and ſeizes the attention of the ſpecta⯑tor with irreſiſtible force: With reſpect to general effect, it al⯑ways [182] appeared to me that there was a want of harmony in the com⯑poſition; the carnations are all remarkably brown and ruddy (in his manner) nor are the figures and objects in the back-ground kept down and ſoftened as they are ſeen in nature: Theſe defects in part may well be owing to un⯑ſkilful retouches and bad modes of cleaning and varniſhing; one remarkable circumſtance is that of a leg amongſt the groupe without an owner; a redundancy which the author could never be guilty of, and a collateral proof of the bad hands through which it has paſſed.

The King of Spain is poſſeſſed of a ſew ſmall pieces by Corregio, [183] the principal of which is a Chriſt in the Garden, a piece of ſingular ſweetneſs and coloured with aſto⯑niſhing contrivance. There are examples of both the Pouſſins, but not many; ſome of Paul Veroneſe, Tintoret, Pedro de Cortona, and ſome compoſitions and heads by Vandyke in his beſt manner; there are alſo ſome portraits by Leonardo da Vinci, particularly one of Anna Boleyn very beautiful but in a meretricious caſt with a moſt arch inſinuating leer. The paintings of the Baſſans hiſtorical as well as paſtoral, including thoſe in the palace of the Buen Retiro, would of themſelves form a very ſplendid and valuable collection: There are ſome pictures by Guido Rheni, [184] the principal of which is a Lucre⯑tia in the Buen Retiro very much reſembling that in the poſſeſſion of the Duke of Dorſet at Knole. There are ſeveral ſpecimens of the earlieſt maſters, which in a collection of ſuch compaſs and va⯑riety, forming as it were a regular ſeries and hiſtory of the art, are juſtly intitled to their place. A ſpectator naturally regards theſe inſtances of reviviſcence in the art with favour and reſpect; we ſee them with the ſame ſort of plea⯑ſure with which we contemplate the firſt returns of life after its temporary ſuſpenſion: Their im⯑perfections demand our excuſe and their weakneſs like that of infancy engages our pity; the different [185] manner, in which we are affected by viewing an art in its advance from what we feel when we con⯑ſider it in its decline, is very ob⯑ſervable and at the ſame time eaſily accounted for; an object by which the mind is led up and made to look forward to perfection com⯑municates ideas far more pleaſing than thoſe which retroſpection in⯑ſpires: we look with very differ⯑ent eyes upon the maſter of Ra⯑fael from thoſe with which we ſcrutinize his ſcholars: The hard and inharmonious figures of Per⯑rugino and Durero are admitted by collectors with reverence and eſ⯑teem, whilſt the ſlight and haſty productions of Sebaſtian Conca and his degenerated ſchool convey to [186] all true judges little elſe but indig⯑nation or regret; in ſhort there is little after the death of the Car⯑rachis produced by the arts in Italy, which is not painful to con⯑template. Many people of great reputed judgment have regarded Mengs as the one bright luminary of modern times; in Spain a man would pay his court very ill who did not applaud him, and ſome of his enthuſiaſtic admirers join his editor Azara in comparing him to Rafael and Corregio. Some parti⯑culars of this painter's hiſtory I have extracted from Azara's pub⯑lica [...]ion, by which we are informed that his family was originally of Lu⯑ſatia, but had migrated from thence [187] to Hamburgh where his grandfa⯑ther ſettled for a time, and from thence paſſed to Copenhagen; this man had a very numerous iſſue, and when the father of our painter was born he had him chriſtened by the name of Iſhmael, in purſuance of a ſilly whim which ſtruck him of opening the Bible and taking the firſt name in the firſt leaf that his eye chanced to light upon: Iſhmael was put to ſuch maſters as Copenhagen afforded to learn to paint: He married the daughter of one Cofrè a Frenchman, under whom he ſtudied painting in oils, but his wife objecting to the ſcent, he diverted his talents thencefor⯑wards to miniatures, and probably [186] [...] [187] [...] [188] made no great ſacrifice by his gal⯑lantry. Soon after this marriage he left Copenhagen upon the plea of avoiding an epidemic diſtemper, and took his peregrination through ſeveral of the German courts, and in Auſig in Bohemia, a town on the borders of Saxony, on the 12th day of March 1728 was born An⯑tonio Rafael Mengs, ſo named in honour of thoſe great maſters An⯑tonio Alegri de Corregio and Rafael; by theſe ſounding characters our inſant painter was uſhered into life; Iſhmael in ſome opinions having been guided by a kind of prophetical choice in preferring theſe names to his own, from which he ſeems to have inherited little elſe but the vagrant character [189] of his Arabic appellation, and the uncontroulable exerciſe of paternal tyranny in full meaſure and ex⯑tent. Iſhmael began very early to inſtruct his ſon in the principles of drawing, and as he ſhifted his quarters from Auſig to Dreſden better opportunities occurred for advancing his education. In the year 1741 he took him to Rome, where he continued him under his own tuition: Auguſtus the IIId of Poland had made Iſhmael one of his royal painters during his abode at Dreſden, and Antonio was now employed by his father in co⯑pying ſome pictures of Rafael for the King in miniature which were ſent to Dreſden. After three years reſidence in Rome, during which [190] his father rigidly confined him to his ſtudies, he returned to Dreſ⯑den; here he was conſtituted King's painter with a ſalary, and after a time made a ſecond journey to Rome; he painted miniatures in compliance with his father's predi⯑lection for his own branch of the art, during the firſt four years of his reſidence, after which he com⯑menced his career upon a greater ſcale and exhibited a Holy Family of his own compoſition which was greatly applauded; his inclination was to fix himſelf in Rome, hav⯑ing married a young woman by name Margarita Guazzi, from whom he had modelled the head of the Madona in the Holy Family above-mentioned; in this inclina⯑tion [191] he was over-ruled by his fa⯑ther, and in a manner compelled to return to Saxony, where he ar⯑rived in 1749; Mengs though married and eſtabliſhed as an artiſt of reputation, was by no means emancipated from the tyranny of his father; and although the King was ſo gracious as to enlarge his penſion, he found his ſituation rendered ſo miſerable and his health and ſpirits ſo impaired by Iſhmael's unfatherly treatment, that he ſoli⯑cited and obtained the royal leave to return with his wife and an infant daughter to Rome, where he arrived in 1752; he ſoon recovered his health in this city, and one of the firſt works he performed was the copy which he made for the preſent [192] Duke of Northumberland of Ra⯑fael's School of Athens: He was now in great embarraſſment of cir⯑cumſtances, his ſalarysin Dreſden having ceaſed upon the diſtreſſes in which King Auguſtus became involved by the war; he worked for his maintenance at low prices, and with much pains gained a very ſcanty ſupport chiefly by painting freſcos. He had made an excur⯑ſion to Naples to fulfil a commiſ⯑ſion he had received from King Auguſtus, and in that expedition became known to Charles the IIId of Spain, then King of Naples, who upon ſucceeding Ferdinand the VIth loſt no time in ſending for Mengs to Madrid, offering him through the channel of the miniſter [193] Roda; then reſident in Rome, a very conſiderable ſalary; Mengs could not heſitate to accept theſe liberal propoſals and arrived at Madrid in 1761. He was at firſt employed in freſcos and painted the cieling of the Graces in the King's anti-chamber, the cieling of the Aurora in the Queen's apartment and the altar of the King's private Oratory on the ſub⯑ject of the Nativity. Amongſt ſeveral eaſel pictures his compoſi⯑tion of the Dead Chriſt with the Mother, St. John, Mary Magda⯑len and other attendant characters is the moſt conſiderable; of this groupe the figure of St. John is far the moſt impaſſioned produc⯑tion of the author. Mengs through [194] his whole life devoted himſelf en⯑tirely to his art, at which he la⯑boured without the neceſſary re⯑laxations of exerciſe or ſociety. He had left his wife and family at Rome; oppreſſed with melancholy and threatened by the approaches of a conſumption, he found it ne⯑ceſſary to betake himſelf without loſs of time to the more friendly climate of Rome, to which the King with his uſual benignity ac⯑ceded; his infirmity conſtrained him to halt at Monaco, where he began to recover, and during his convaleſcence painted his cele⯑brated picture of the Nativity; in this piece the light is managed in the way of Corregio's Noche, and as a ſecurity againſt injury its [195] royal poſſeſſor has covered it with a magnificent glaſs; amongſt the ſhepherds the painter has inſerted his own portrait. Upon his ar⯑rival at Rome he engaged in a con⯑ſiderable undertaking for Pope Clement XIV. This and the pre⯑tence of health engaged him for a term of three years nor did he re⯑turn at length to Madrid but with evident reluctance and after every poſſible procraſtination and delay. His Royal Maſter received him nevertheleſs with his accuſtomed condeſcenſion, accepted his ex⯑cuſes and continued him in his pay and employ: He now com⯑poſed the cieling of the great ſa⯑loon of the palace at Madrid, in which he has deſcribed the apo⯑theoſis [196] of the Emperor Trajan; a ſubject ſelected with judgement and executed in a ſtile of grand diſplay. A reſidence of little more than two years and inceſſant appli⯑cation again impaired the conſti⯑tution of Mengs to ſuch a degree that he plainly perceived Spain was a climate in which he could no longer exiſt, and he for the laſt time quitted Madrid and repaired to Rome with plenary indulgence and an augmented ſtipend from his munificent maſter: To this ca⯑pital of the antient arts his wiſhes always pointed, and his waſted ſpirits felt a freſh return of vigour, as he approached the favourite ſpot, to which he finally reſolved to devote his future days: The [197] death of his wife, to whom he was faithfully and fondly attached ſoon reverſed theſe happy proſpects; the melancholy in which he be⯑came involved by this event and the change of habits thereby en⯑tailed upon him brought back his old diſorders and ſuperadded many new complaints; in this ſtate of deſperation he put himſelf into the hands of an ignorant empiric, and by perſiſting in his medicines upon the credit of ſuch flattering profeſſions as are uſual with this tribe of pretenders, his ſhattered conſtitution yielded to the violence of an unſeaſonable doſe of phyſic and at the age of fifty-one years and three months Antonio Rafael Mengs departed this life. The [198] works of Mengs in the royal poſ⯑ſeſſion conſiſt of the freſcos of the Trajan, The Graces and The Aurora, which are cielings; the altar-piece of the private Oratory he repainted in oil: There are ſeventeen eaſel pictures in the palace of Madrid, excluſive of the Annunciation lately arrived from Rome; this picture was the laſt work of his life and has not received his finiſhing hand; it was not hung up when I ſaw it, being juſt taken out of the pack⯑ing-caſe. The picture of the Dead Chriſt is in my opinion the beſt of the above number; the figures are of the natural ſize: The Nati⯑vity, which is covered with a ſingle plate of glaſs, is nine feet ten inches by ſeven; that of the [199] Dead Chriſt is conſiderably bigger: Theſe three pictures of the Death of Chriſt, the Nativity and the Annunciation, compoſed at dif⯑ferent periods of his life and at dif⯑ferent places, the firſt being paint⯑ed at Madrid and the two laſt at Rome, are the compoſitions that muſt decide his reputation: In the palace of Aranjuez there are ſeve⯑ral portraits and a Crucifixion which hangs in the King's bed⯑chamber: The Prince of Aſturias has two pictures, one of which is a Holy Family in his elegant Ca⯑ſino at the Eſcorial: The Infants Don Gabriel and Don Luis and many Grandees and other diſtin⯑guiſhed perſons have pieces of this author, moſt of which are portraits; Azara enumerates ſeven⯑ty-three [200] pictures of Mengs exiſt⯑ing in Spain.

Living authors rarely find in the voice of the public their pro⯑per level, and this artiſt ſo lately died that ſufficient time has not yet elapſed to cool the heats of partiſans, and to let the diſpaſ⯑ſionate and judicious weigh his merits in their proper ſcale. This cannot be fairly done by any one who has not ſeen his works in Spain: It is in that court only where the witneſſes can be called to his character whoſe evidence ought to lead the opinion of ſuch as ſit in judgment on his merits: There he will literally be ſeen al⯑ways in the beſt light; if indeed that be the beſt light for any mo⯑dern [201] author's works ſo to predo⯑minate in a collection of the firſt artiſts of the world, as to make what moſt people will think his ſuperiors ſecede and give place upon every occaſion. Yet this is evidently the caſe; predilection cannot go further; not that I would be miſunderſtood to arraign the principle of partiality to a liv⯑ing artiſt; no ſlattery, no warmth of favour ſhort of that which tends to leſſen his induſtry or impair his intellects can in ſuch a caſe be too much: Accurſed be that diſpoſition, whereſoever it is found, which can praiſe no times but thoſe which are gone by; it is eaſy to know that ſuch encomi⯑ums are the effects of ſpleen under [202] the aſſumption of candour: One applauding ſentence beſtowed up⯑on contemporary genius is more to the credit of the giver, than volumes of hiſtorical panegyric; it is like the mite of the widow thrown into the maſs of the treaſury, a contribution to be reſpected not ſo much for the value of the offering, as for be⯑ing the tribute of the heart: De vivis nil niſi bonum, de mortuis nil niſi verum, is a noble reading of Johnſon's: He has ſaid many things well, but he never ſaid any thing better than this: Why ſhould we ſo deſpair of contemporary me⯑rit, as if a painter never could ariſe to equal them that went before? Let us not bring on the [203] competition by lowering the dead, but by raiſing the living: So far therefore as this ſtriking prefer⯑ence in favour of Mengs had effect in calling forth his exertions and fortifying his genius by a due pro⯑portion of ſelf-confidence and pro⯑per opinion it appears to have been kingly and meritorious: Mengs himſelf with all his idolatry for Rafael thinks the world has produced artiſts with which he cannot come into competition, and what is ſingular in the opinion is, that he does not refer to the works of the Grecian ſculptors, but to their painters for that perfection, that idea of conſummate beauty, which he finds wanting in his own great model. But as Mengs takes [204] up his idea of the ſuperiority of the antient painters entirely upon hypotheſis, and no reference being to be had to ocular conviction, which alone can ſettle the queſtion, the world will gain more by the ingenuity of his conjectures, than truth will by his diſcovery. There are other poſitions equally new in his poſthumous publication, which I ſhall be glad to ſee canvaſſed in the true ſpirit of candid criticiſm. Mengs loved the truth, but he did not always find it out; under all the diſadvantages of a contracted education, and ſowered by the inſupportable ſeverity of his fa⯑ther's diſcipline, his habit became ſaturnine and moroſe and his man⯑ners unſocial and inelegant: He [205] had a great propenſity for ſpeak⯑ing what are called plain truths, but which oftentimes in fact are no truths at all: His biographer and editor Azara has given us an inſtance of this ſort in a reply he made to Pope Clement XIV. His Holineſs had aſked Mengs's opi⯑nion of ſome pictures he had col⯑lected at Venice: They are good for nothing, ſaid Mengs: How ſo? rejoined his Holine;ſs, they have been highly commended; naming a certain painter as his authority for their merit: Moſt Holy Fa⯑ther, replied Mengs, we are both profeſſors of the ſame art; he ex⯑tols what he cannot equal, and I depreciate what I am ſenſible I can excel. N. y. yo ſomos dos pro⯑feſores: [206] El uno alaba lo que es ſu⯑perior á ſu esfera; y el otro vitupera lo que l [...]es ſuperior. I ſhould ſuſ⯑pect that Clement thought very little the worſe of his pictures, and not much the better of Mengs for his repartee. Whether Mengs really thought with contempt of art which was inferior to his own, I will not pretend to decide; but that he was apt to ſpeak contemp⯑tuouſly of artiſts ſuperior to him⯑ſelf I am inclined to believe: Azara tells us that he pronounced of the academical lectures of our Reynolds, that they were calcu⯑lated to miſlead young ſtudents in⯑to error, teaching nothing but thoſe ſuperficial principles which he plainly avers are all that the [207] author himſelf knows of the art he profeſſes. Del libro moderno del Sr. Raynolds, Ingles, decia que es una obra, que puede conducir los jo⯑venes al error; poſque ſe queda en los principios ſuperficiales que conoce ſolamente a quel autor. Azara im⯑mediately proceeds to ſay that Mengs was of a temperament cole⯑rico y aduſto, and that his bitter and ſatyrical turn created him in⯑finitos agraviados y quejoſos. When his hiſtorian and friend ſays this there is no occaſion for me to repeat the remark. If the genius of Mengs had been capable of pro⯑ducing a compoſition equal to that of the tragic and pathetic Ugolino, I am perſuaded ſuch a ſentence as the above would never have paſſed [208] his lips; but flattery made him vain and ſickneſs rendered him peeviſh; he found himſelf at Ma⯑drid in a country without rivals, and becauſe the arts had travelled out of his ſight he was diſpoſed to think they exiſted nowhere but on his own pallet. The time per⯑haps is at hand, when our virtuoſi will extend their route to Spain, and of theſe ſome one will probably be found, who, regarding with juſt indignation theſe dogmatical de⯑crees of Mengs, will take in hand the examination of his paintings which I have now enumerated; and we may then be told with the authority of ſcience, that his Na⯑tivity, though ſo ſplendidly en⯑caſed, and covered with ſuch care, [209] that the very winds of Heaven are not permitted to viſit its face too roughly, would have owed more to the chryſtal than it does in ſome parts at leaſt had it been leſs tranſ⯑parent than it is; that it diſco⯑vers an abortive and puiſny bam⯑bino which ſeems copied from a bottle; that Mengs was an artiſt who had ſeen much, and invented little; that he diſpenſes neither life nor death to his figures, ex⯑cites no terror, rouſes no paſſions, and riſques no flights; that by ſtudying to avoid particular de⯑fects, he incurs general ones, and paints with tameneſs and ſervility; that the contracted ſcale and idea of a painter of miniatures, as which he was brought up, is to be traced [210] in all or moſt of his compoſitions, in which a finiſhed delicacy of pen⯑cil exhibits the Hand of the Artiſt, but gives no emanations of the Soul of the Maſter; if it is beauty, It does not warm; if it is ſorrow, it excites no pity: That when the Angel announces the ſalutation to Mary it is a meſſenger that has neither uſed diſpatch in the errand, nor grace in the delivery; that although Rubens was by one of his oracular ſayings condemned to the ignominious dullneſs of a Dutch tranſlator, Mengs was as capable of painting Rubens's Adoration, as he was of creating the Star in the Eaſt that uſhered the Magi: But theſe are queſtions above my ca⯑pacity; I reſign Mengs to abler [211] critics, and Reynolds to better defenders; well contented that poſterity ſhould admire them both, and well aſſured that the fame of our countryman is eſtabliſhed be⯑yond the reach of envy or detrac⯑tion.

Of the marbles, which compoſe ſo beautiful a part of the fitting in the royal apartments, I ſhould be glad ſome ſuch particular deſcrip⯑tion might be given by our travel⯑lers, who print their journals, as would attract the attention of this kingdom to the extraction of thoſe precious materials from ſuch parts of Spain at leaſt as border on the ocean or Mediterranean; I made a collection in Madrid of one hun⯑dred and twenty-ſix different ſpe⯑cimens, [212] which I brought to Eng⯑land, and had free and liberal per⯑miſſion from his Catholic Majeſty to have applied to his royal archi⯑tect Sabatini for blocks or ſlabs from any of the reſpective quarries, if ſuch had been acceptable. Ja⯑cobo Trezo, a Milaneſe, of whom Vaſari ſpeaks in high terms of commendation for his art in ſculp⯑ture and the caſting of metals, is reported to have carried his re⯑ſearches through moſt parts of Spain with great ſucceſs in the time of Philip the IId, when he was founding the Eſcorial; and it is thought that he has brought to light many more ſamples than were known to the Romans, who fur⯑niſhed their capital and adorned [213] their villas from the quarries of Spain: Porphyry is found in the vi⯑cinity of Cordova and in ſuch vaſt blocks as to form magnificent co⯑lumns; Aracena produces jaſper, Conſuegra, Leon and Malaga a⯑bound in alabaſters, and the green marble of Grenada fully rivals the verd-antique; of this latter ſort it is not eaſy to procure ſlabs of conſiderable dimenſions, yet I have ſeen tables in the palace and elſe⯑where of exquiſite beauty and a magnificent ſize; innumerable ſorts of jaſper are to be had in Andaluſia, Valencia, Aragon, Biſ⯑caya, Cuenca, Tortoſa and the Caſtiles; and the mountains about Toledo, Urda, Murizedro, Bada⯑joz, [214] Talavera and Macael fur⯑niſh a variety of marbles in an in⯑exhauſtible abundance.

Unhappy kingdom! as if ſome evil genius had dominion of thy fate, perverting the courſe of every natural bleſſing and turning the moſt gracious diſpenſations of Pro⯑vidence to thy loſs and disfavour. All productions, which the earth can yield both on and below its ſurface, are proper to Spain; every advantageous acceſs either to the ocean or Mediterranean, every ſecurity of an impaſſable frontier againſt its continental neighbours are proper to Spain; in ſhort it has all the benefits of an inſular ſituation, and none of its objections. Though formed to [215] be a ſeat of empire and a land of peace, it has been little elſe but a provincial dependency, or a thea⯑tre of internal war and bloodſhed. Though it has thrown out many great and eminent characters both in arms and arts, it was to fill the annals of other countries and not to grace their own; if emperors, they ſate on other thrones; if war⯑riors, they fought for other ſtates; if philoſophers, they taught in other ſchools and wrote in other tongues. If every ſpecies of ſub⯑jugation be diſgraceful to a ſtate, Spain has paſſed under every deſ⯑cription of tyranny and has expe⯑rienced a variety of wretchedneſs. When Carthage was her miſtreſs, it is not eaſy to conceive a ſituation [216] more degrading for a noble peo⯑ple, than to bear the yoke of mer⯑cantile republicans and do homage at the ſhopboards of upſtart de⯑magogues; ſurely it is in human nature to prefer the tyranny of the moſt abſolute deſpot that ever wore a crown to the mercenary and impoſing inſults of a trader: Who would not rather appeal to a court, than a compting-houſe? Who would not rather ſubmit and be made a ſacrifice to a kingly fiat, than a ſhopman's firme? Let the Rajahs of Bengal decide upon the alternative. From the dominion of Carthage ſhe was transferred to that of Rome; her ſtruggle was obſtinate againſt the tranſition, and miracles of bravery were exhibited [217] in the perſevering contention; in the choice of yokes it is probable ſhe preferred the Roman, her ob⯑jections were to wearing any; at length ſhe ſubmitted and came in⯑to the pale of the empire; we are told of Roman toleration, and the happy condition of Roman pro⯑vinces; but we have it on the au⯑thority of their own hiſtorians, and ſo far as one inſignificant opinion goes, I reject it utterly; I cannot comprehend how the ſervile act of digging in a mine for ore and mar⯑ble to ſupply the avarice and en⯑creaſe the ſplendour of antient Rome could conſtitute the happi⯑neſs or gratify the ambition of a native Spaniard. As Rome made fome advances in civilization, tho' [218] at beſt a very barbarous and fero⯑cious people, Spain perhaps par⯑took of her advances; but it was following at a diſtance, and ſub⯑ordinate improvements ſeldom reach far; what ſhe gained by her annexation to Rome is eaſily count⯑ed up, what ſhe loſt by it involves a great extent and compaſs of con⯑jecture; and though modern Spain may celebrate the Apotheoſis of Trajan, I am of opinion a true Spaniard will neither compare him to Viriatus, nor Seneca to Xi⯑menes. The next revolution which Spain ſuffered was by the general inundation of the northern barbarians. To aim at any deſ⯑cription of theſe times is to put to ſea without a compaſs and with⯑out [219] a ſtar; the influx of their Ma⯑hometan conquerors furniſhed the firſt light that broke the general obſcurity; the courts of Grenada and Cordova were profuſely ſplen⯑did and not devoid of arts and ſci⯑ences: Their commerce with the Eaſt ſupplied them with abund⯑ance of wealth, and their inter⯑courſe with Conſtantinople gave ſome faint ſhadowings of Grecian elegance: The heroic virtues were diſplayed in a romantic degree; legends of chivalry, poetical tales and love-ſongs, where courage and chaſtity were liberally diſpenſed to the reſpective ſexes, muſic and dances of a very captivating ſort, pharmacy with the uſe and know⯑ledge of ſimples, and a ſolemn [220] peculiarity of architecture were accompliſhments of Mooriſh im⯑portation; the inſurmountable bar⯑riers of religion would not how⯑ever admit of their incorporation with the native Spaniards, and both parties experienced the horrors of a war at their own gates, which admitted few and ſhort intervals of quiet and repoſe. At length the long-depending conteſt was determined, and the total expul⯑ſion of the Moors delivered Spain for a time from all internal terrors and commotions: She had ſcarce enjoyed a breathing ſpace before ſhe ſtarted on a courſe of new and diſtant adventures in the late diſ⯑covered world. Every one now flocked with ardour to America, [221] as to a ſecond cruſade; can it be wondered at if arts and ſciences ſtood ſtill in the mean time? When ſhe had maſſacred kings and laid waſte their kingdoms for the ex⯑tortion of treaſure, ſhe found that the ores of Mexico and Peru, like the ſtreams of the Tagus and the Douro, ran through her domini⯑ons only to empty their ſtores into the hands of her neighbours and rivals: Although theſe conſe⯑quences may well reſult from the bad policy of her proceedings, yet it will naturally be the caſe that all diſcoverers of countries, like projectors in the arts, exhauſt them⯑ſelves in the firſt efforts, and leave others to erect their fortune, where they have laid the foundation: [222] The commerce of the European nations has been eſtabliſhed upon the diſcoveries of Spain, and every other treaſury is filled from the mines of the new world except her own: Whilſt ſhe was extending her empire over the barren Corde⯑leras, the richeſt provinces in Eu⯑rope fell off from her dominion; Portugal took the harbour of Liſ⯑bon and a valuable tract of coaſt from the heart of her empire; the ſtandard of Britain flew in triumph upon the pillars of Hercules, whilſt ſhe continued to ſtretch her feeble arms over half the globe, ſo to re⯑main, till the firſt convulſive ſhock ſhall make her quit her hold. Still ſhe might have remained reſpecta⯑ble in misfortunes, and formida⯑ble [223] though in decay; the laſt hand, that was put to her ruin, held the pen which ſigned away her repu⯑tation and independence in the fa⯑mily compact; generous, unſuſ⯑pecting and impolitic, ſhe has bound herſelf to an ally, whoſe union, like the action of certain chemical mixtures, will diſſolve every noble particle in her compo⯑ſition and leave her ſpiritleſs and vapid. Great empires, like great men, are aggrandized and ſecured by the coalition of inferiors; petty ſtates may ſometimes be foſtered into temporary importance to ſerve occaſional purpoſes; but king⯑doms, ſuch as France and Spain, of recent equality and emulation, can never find reciprocal advan⯑tages [224] in political alliance; the in⯑tereſts of the weaker party muſt of neceſſity become a ſacrifice to thoſe of the ſtronger and more artful, and with which of the two that ſuperiority actually lies, and thoſe advantages are likely to remain, is a point too clear to admit a doubt, or need an explanation.