id="Page_xxv" class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="[Pg xxv]"/>such pursuits, were they enabled to discover any short, general, and certain rules for infallibly determining this delicate point! Many rely much upon history for the truth. But how frequently does it happen that the authority of an historian is cited in favour of a family picture, or an altar-piece, the original of which having been disposed of by some of the predecessors, and a copy substituted in its place, the latter is supposed to be a genuine painting! Others seem to lay great stress on the importance of places, and hesitate to raise doubts respecting any specimen they find contained in royal and select galleries, assuming that they really belong to the artists referred to in the gallery descriptions and catalogues. But here too they are liable to mistake; inasmuch as many private individuals, as well as princes, unable to purchase ancient pictures at any price, contented themselves with such copies of their imitators as approached nearest to the old masters. Some indeed were made by professors purposely despatched by princes in search of them; as in the instance of Rodolph I., who employed Giuseppe Enzo, a celebrated copyist. (See Boschini, p. 62, and Orlandi, on Gioseffo Ains di Berna.) External proofs, therefore, are insufficient, without adding a knowledge of different manners. The acquisition of such discrimination is the fruit only of long experience, and deep reflection on the style of each master: and I shall endeavour to point out the manner in which it may be obtained.[15]

To judge of a master we must attend to his design, and this is to be acquired from his drawings, from his pictures, or, at least, from accurate engravings after them. A good connoisseur in prints is more than half way advanced in the art of judging pictures; and he who aims at this must study engravings with unremitting assiduity. It is thus his eye becomes familiarized to the artist's method of delineating and foreshortening the figure, to the air of his heads and the casting of his draperies; to that action, that peculiarity of conception, of disposing, and of contrasting, which are habitual to his character. Thus is he, as it were, introduced to the different families of youths, of children, of women, of old men, and of individuals in the vigour of life, which each artist has adopted as his own, and has usually exhibited in his pictures. We cannot be too well versed in such matters, so minute or almost insensible are the distinctions between the imitators of one master, (such as Michelangiolo, for example,) who have perhaps studied the same cartoon, or the same statues, and, as it were, learned to write after the same model.

More originality is generally to be discovered in colouring, a branch of the art formed by a painter rather on his own judgment, than by instruction. The amateur can never attain experience in this branch who has not studied many pictures by the same master; who has not observed his selection of colours, his method of separating, of uniting, and of subduing them; what are his local tints, and what the general tone that harmonizes the colours he employs. This tint, however clear and silvery in Guido and his followers, bright and golden in Titiano and his school, and thus of the rest, has still as many modifications as there are masters in the art. The same remark extends to middle tints and to chiaroscuro, in which each artist employs a peculiar method.

These are qualities which catch the eye at a distance, yet they will not always enable the critic to decide with certainty; whether, for instance, a certain picture is the production of Vinci, or Luini, who imitated him closely; whether another be an original picture by Barocci, or an exact copy from the hand of Vanni. In such cases judges of art approach closer to the picture with a determination to examine it with the same care and accuracy as are employed in a judicial question, upon the recognition of hand-writing. Fortunately for society, nature has granted to every individual a peculiar character in this respect, which it is not easy to counterfeit, nor to mistake [Pg xxviii]for any other person's writing. The hand, habituated to move in a peculiar manner, always retains it: in old age the characters may be more slowly traced, may become more negligent or more heavy; but the form of the letters remains the same. So it is in painting. Every artist not only retains this peculiarity, but one is distinguished by a full charged pencil; another by a dry but neat finish; the work of one exhibits blended tints, that of another distinct touches; and each has his own manner of laying on the colours:[16] but even in regard to what is common to so many, each has a peculiar handling and direction of the pencil, a marking of his lines more or less waved, more or less free, and more or less studied, by which those truly skilled from long experience are enabled, after a due consideration of all circumstances, to decide who was the real author. Such judges do not fear a copyist, however excellent. He will, perhaps, keep pace with his model for a certain time, but not always; he may sometimes shew a free, but commonly a timid, servile, and meagre pencil; he will not be long able, with a free hand, to keep his own style concealed under the manner of another, more especially in regard to less important points, such as the penciling of the hair, and in the fore- and back-grounds of the picture.[17] Certain observations on the canvas and the priming ground may sometimes assist inquiry; and hence some have endeavoured to attain greater certainty by a chemical analysis of the colours. Diligence is ever laudable when exerted on a point so nice as ascertaining the hand-work of a celebrated master. It may prevent our paying ten guineas for what may not be worth two; or placing in a choice collection pictures that will not do it credit; while to the curious it affords scientific views, instead of creating prejudices that often engender errors. That mistakes should happen is not surprising. A true connoisseur is still more rare than a good artist. His skill is the result of only indirect application; it is acquired amidst other pursuits, and divides the attention with other objects; the means of attaining it fall to the lot of few; and still fewer practise it successfully. Among the number of the last I do not reckon myself. By this work I pretend not, I repeat it, to form an accomplished connoisseur in painting: my object is to facilitate and expedite the acquisition of such knowledge. The history of painting is the basis of connoisseurship; by combining it, I supersede the necessity of referring to many books; by abbreviating it I save the time and labour of the student; and by arranging it in a proper manner on every occasion, I present him with the subject ready prepared and developed before him.

It remains, in the last place, that I should give some account of myself; of the criticisms that I, who am not an artist, have ventured to pass upon each painter: and, indeed, if the professors of the art had as much leisure and experience in writing as they have ability, every author might resign to them the field. The