LETTER X.

Thanks for your letter approving of my design in the principal parts of the interior; I shall now briefly point out the materials which I would recommend to be employed for the floors, walls, and ceilings.

For the entrance hall, I propose that the doorcases, chimney-piece, and the socle or dado should be carried up about four feet high, and should be of yellowish Derbyshire marble, and the walls in stucco, but made to show the joints of different courses, and marbled in fresco of a lighter tint than the rest, while the vaulted ceiling should have the ribs coloured white and brown upon a pale blue ground; for here in the lower part of the tower it will, I conceive, be most proper to indicate as forcibly as possible to the eye, solidity of material and construction.

In the second or inner hall, which we enter from the preceding one, and beyond which is obtained a view of the staircase, as seen through the columns placed on a stylobate, serving as a screen to the stairs, the walls might be marbled of a light greenish tint, intermixed in the socle with brown lines. The columns and entablature should be white; and the ceiling panelled in wainscot, with coffers or compartments containing ornaments in relief on a green ground. As regards this part of the interior, I would remark that should such be deemed preferable, there would be no objection to filling in the upper part of the screen (that is, the openings between the columns) with glass. While this would prevent all draught from the staircase, and in some degree intercept sound also, it would not in anywise affect the general design; but rather might be made to conduce to it, by adopting some ornamental pattern, of course in a corresponding style. Both in this and the preceding vestibule, the floor should be paved with marble or coloured stone, as should also that of the corridors; but the large hall should have a parquetted wood flooring, because that room will occasionally be made use of for dancing. In this last, the walls should be wainscoted and panelled with oak, to the height of about seven feet; and the doorway which forms the entrance to the suite of sitting-rooms should be distinguished by richness of carved decoration in the same material. I further recommend the application of embellishment of inlaid woods or marquetrie of different colours, for the cornice or upper mouldings of this wainscoting, so as to produce a rich border or band along the walls, above which there will remain space for pictures in frames, (inclining forwards) and even if these paintings are of no very great value in themselves as works of art, they will be of use as contributing to the general design, and add greatly to its effect. The upper part of the walls might be painted in fresco in imitation of grey marble streaked with red, which last mentioned colour should be that of the coffers in the wainscoted ceiling.

The ante-room or first room of the suite being smaller than the others, should have a coved ceiling, in order to diminish its apparent height; and this might be painted with Arabesque ornaments on a white ground, somewhat after the manner of several of the ceilings of Julio Romano in the Villa Lanti. The walls of this and of the two adjoining rooms should be hung with silk or other stuff of a quiet sober hue, so as to give the greatest relief to the pictures, I taking it for granted that you would be inclined to place here the principal part of such pictures as you may possess.

Though the ceilings of the two drawing-rooms should not be much ornamented, yet they may be relieved by the introduction of gilding in parts. For all these rooms I propose that the doors, &c. should be white with gilt mouldings. In the library, the ribs or bands of the vaulted ceiling should be gilt upon a white ground; and as regards the bookcases or shelves for books, they ought to be of some light coloured wood, highly polished, and not go higher than the corbels or consoles from which the vaulting springs, in order that there may be sufficient space for busts, vases, and other ornaments of that kind upon the cornices; and this will avoid the inconvenience of having the upper shelves quite out of reach, except with the help of high library steps—always inconvenient. For the lunettes or arched spaces between the corbels, I have not proposed any particular decoration, as they might be filled up by reliefs and casts let into the wall.

The dining room with the arcs-doubleaux and compartments of its vaulted ceiling afford scope for fresco painting of a superior style; and the pencil of our friend Eastlake, who has already shown so much classical talent in decorating the dining-room in London, might render this one of the most striking and charming apartments of its kind in England. It is true that fresco is so little practised in your country, and consequently its process so imperfectly understood, that he would probably have to encounter some difficulties at the outset; but I flatter myself I could be of considerable assistance to him, as regards the practical details, having already succeeded in introducing that mode of painting in spite of most unfavourable circumstances. I would advise that the pictures should be confined to the ceiling and the lunettes, and that the walls should be merely stuccoed, as being upon the whole more in accordance with the destination of the room itself, and affording a quieter background to the company seated around the dinner-table; at the same time that the frescoes in the upper part of the room would thereby show to greater advantage. You will observe that the fresco requires a bold broad style, and has an advantage over oil, as it is very effective even when not seen by a strong or favourable light. Should somewhat more of decoration be thought advisable, I would suggest the adoption of glass-mosaic in narrow upright pannels at intervals. Of this species of embellishment, which was much used by the Romans, and after, much in vogue throughout Italy during the middle ages, for pulpits, monuments, &c. I have lately introduced an application in a room fitted up by myself, the effect of which is allowed to be singularly striking and good.

The remaining drawing shows the large corridor on the upper floor.

I need hardly remark that these designs are only intended to convey an idea of the general character and style of the different rooms, as submitted to you for consideration. Much yet remains to be definitively settled, there being a variety of circumstances with which I am at present but imperfectly acquainted; nor can I possibly say what modifications of the plan I should advise, until I know wherein you consider it objectionable, or wherein it fails to meet your precise wishes. Some objections I may probably be able to combat; others may possibly, by leading me to consider the points in difference afresh, enable me to hit upon variations that may not immediately occur to me. Much will depend upon your collection of works of art, which is as yet but imperfectly known to me; much also upon my meeting with clever workmen, capable, not only of entering into my ideas, and executing without further trouble any piece of decoration that may be required, but also, as has not seldom happened to me, of suggesting valuable hints during the progress of the work. So far indeed am I from wishing you to decide at once in favour of what I propose, I am most of all solicitous that you should as completely comprehend not only the general scheme, but the contemplated effect of every part. Undoubtedly it is very pleasant to an architect to meet with an employer disposed to give him carte-blanche and permission to follow out his own ideas unrestrictedly; yet it is still more delightful to meet with one who, instead of merely passively acquiescing, assents from conviction after deliberate study of the ideas submitted to him, and from the lively interest he takes in them.

If I have ventured to propose marble, gilding, fresco painting, and glass-mosaic, do not be alarmed at the seeming extravagance, or imagine that any great expense will be incurred. In architecture the most durable materials are the most economical, and they carry with them a nobleness of appearance not attainable by even lavish ornaments, costly at first, yet of a perishable nature. Consider what large sums are expended in the course of a few years in keeping up houses that have to be repaired or refitted up from time to time as regards all but their bare walls, in consequence either of the materials getting soiled and shabby, or of the changes of fashion, which having been the only guidance in matters of taste at first, must continue to be consulted and conformed to, otherwise the whole looks out of date; whereas, that which is originally beautiful, independently of any particular fashion of the day, will so remain, let the caprice of fashion change as it will. I do really believe there are many rooms that would have cost their owners less, had they been entirely lined with marble, and otherwise ornamented with fresco painting and mosaic, than they have done in consequence of being furbished up every now and then by decorators and paper-hangers, and often in very questionable taste, while after all, the effect for the time is at the best of an inferior kind.

Besides by economy and a little dexterity of management even materials may be obtained at a comparatively moderate cost: works in Carrara marble, for instance, may be executed in Italy from designs sent over for that purpose, at about half the price, including freight and duty, which they would cost in England. The only inconvenience is that they cannot be furnished so promptly, it being requisite that the orders for them should be given some time beforehand. You will perhaps recollect the circumstance I have stated in respect to this matter in my "Architectura Domestica."

As to gilding—oil-gilding is cheaper than water-gilding; which last has only the advantage of looking more brilliant than the former at first. Fresco painting, again is less expensive than any mode of painting in oil; for it necessarily demands far greater rapidity of execution, and the effect being produced at once, instead of the work proceeding through all the different stages from dead colouring to the last finishing. How very poor a succedaneum for fresco painting is Gobelius tapestry! in which latter the execution is entirely mechanical, giving a mere soulless plodding transcript of the original, while as some of the colours fade sooner than the rest, the whole becomes in a short time quite inharmonious. I am moreover convinced that there are many able artists now living, who would execute designs in fresco for the same price that is paid for designs in tapestry; so that durability being considered, the saving accruing from the former would be considerable. Nor is it the least important consideration of all, that art itself would be extensively benefited by the adoption of such practice. I at least am thoroughly convinced, that a single room painted in fresco by an able artist would do more for the advancement of sound art in England than a score of commissions for oil-pictures, or than a hundred so called illustrated editions of popular works, with wood cuts. Pre-eminently gifted as is England with a true feeling for colouring, there is no doubt but that her school would be able to impart a fresh vigour to fresco painting, and would set a bright example to the continent in this branch of the art.

Yours, &c.

A. C.

N.B. Some further observations of M. de Chateauneuf's, in defence of his views regarding the fit style of architecture for a modern house, and also his design for the interior, have been omitted: I regret this, and so, I think, will the reader; the additions, however, would have made the work too expensive. The plates at the end will give a clear idea of the general plan and the elevation, and the last plate contains the proposed alteration of the tower, and omitting the lake. Editor.

LETTER XI.

As regards the style and mode of execution of the proposed decorations, I should, of course, wish to be guided by your judgment. Whether it may be expedient merely to copy or adapt from known examples, such as the baths of Titus, and the paintings of Pompeii, or from the great masters of modern times, such as the designs of Raphael and Giulio Romano;—or whether an entirely new style, founded on a study of the general principles of art as applied to decoration, should be attempted, is for you to determine. Again, it may be a question, whether in different rooms a different course should be pursued, for the sake of variety. Respecting the vehicle, whether encaustic, fresco, or oil, or all three, should be used, must be determined by you.

You will observe there is the outer hall, and staircase, the inner hall, the library, the two drawing rooms, and the dining room, all requiring your attention.

The library, I should wish to be devoted as far as possible to art, especially as the books it will contain relate principally to painting and sculpture.

I remain yours very sincerely,

H. B.

P. S.—I should state that this application is made to you, with the perfect assent, nay, indeed, at the request of M. de Chateauneuf, who is desirous that his design should have the benefit of your advice, as regards its ornament: the specimen given in M. de Chateauneuf's work on Domestic Architecture, of the embellishment of the house executed by him at Hamburgh, and indeed some observations he has sent to me, sufficiently prove that he is in nowise deficient in this important branch of an architect's duty.

LETTER XII.

My Dear Sir,

I SHOULD willingly refer you to abler advisers if M. de Chateauneuf's house were as real as it deserves to be; but although the conditions which you and the architect have proposed to yourselves have led to very definite arrangements in the structure itself, a pleasing uncertainty may be assumed to exist with regard to the decorations: in a word, I can scarcely shrink from a responsibility as ideal as the subject of our speculation.

I am sorry you have again referred to a certain "Pompeian" room; believe me, too much has been said of what you know was a rough experiment, to see the effect of a particular kind of decoration for small rooms, and which, as regards its details, can only deserve attention from the skill with which Mr. Harvey executed the animals that are introduced.

The word "decoration," however appropriate to fantastic ornaments, and in some degree to insulated figures, has, as you know, been considered vilifying when applied to works that are addressed to the mind. But, as we have no other term, we must consent to use it in both meanings. It is, indeed, important to remember, that no works of art, however elevated, can dispense with the appeal, the impressive or winning appeal, to the eye. Thus much for our definition of terms.

As a general principle in decoration, I would recommend that the eye should be solely or chiefly addressed where a passing glance only can be given to the work, and that the attention should be more taxed where leisure and surrounding circumstances permit or invite contemplation. The reverse of this would be manifestly wrong; but the recommendation itself is not to be understood too literally. Every display has its legitimate exuberance: the "over and above" in decoration can only be that of quality, for mere taste is supposed to define all that relates to quantity. As common poetic description sometimes exalts its subject less by accumulation than by supposing costly materials where mean ones would do, so in art the augmenting excellence ascends from sense to thought. If, therefore, the intention to afford mental pleasure is very apparent even in situations where this may appear superfluous and in a manner thrown away, the impression must of itself be elevating. But the indispensable condition is, that a gradation should still be maintained; that higher excellence should still be in reserve. What must be the character of works of art to which Raphael's Corridor in the Vatican forms the mere approach? The answer is given by the perfection of the works in the Stanze. All that is to be insisted on, therefore, is a due gradation in conformity with the principle first proposed. In the remarks that follow, I cannot strictly follow the plan of the house, but must often generalize; the observations submitted, if tenable at all, will, however, be easily applicable to your purpose.

The pavement of the halls might be enriched, but I can hardly approve the occasional practice of the ancients in placing mosaic "histories" under their feet:[6] the objections are sufficiently obvious. The forms and hues employed should be merely calculated to gratify the sight. Among other preliminary considerations, I would also include the nature of the mere surface, as well as the distinction of every apartment. Thus a pavement, however decorated, should still express the character of firmness and solidity. For this reason I would banish even the lowest kind of life, (that of plants,) and every approach to perspective. Geometrical forms would thus be alone admissible: the variety is infinite; but even here I would again exclude abrupt and irregular contrasts of colour, which have sometimes the effect of making the evenness of the surface doubtful: the last consideration is even applicable to carpets. With respect to the classic fashion of inscriptions on the threshold,[7] I merely remark, that letters are only ornamental in architecture when disposed symmetrically, and enclosed in a regular frame-work.

In approving the common practice of placing statues and bas-reliefs in the principal hall, I do not depart from the spirit of our first principles. A statue has generally the advantage of being seen in various points of view, and thus commands attention in situations where paintings could not. The rich effect of bas-reliefs is sufficient to recommend them; associations of classic taste are naturally connected with the classic materials of marble or bronze; and architecture, when displayed as such, seems to acquire additional solidity by the presence of sculpture. But works of sculpture of the first excellence should be admitted to the library or drawing room, and even fragments of rare beauty should be enshrined with like distinction. For the present, however, we are in the hall. I do not recommend mixing mural painting and sculpture: no painted devices should compete injudiciously with the bas-reliefs. But let us suppose that your bas-reliefs are in the outer hall, and that you have only some sculptured vases on detached pedestals in the inner hall or corridor, then by all means decorate the walls of the latter with arabesques: to these we shall return. In the staircase, also, it will be necessary to make your election between the two arts. I will assume that you decide for painting. Few people linger in a staircase; still fewer break their necks to look at a painted ceiling. If the scene affects the eye and the imagination agreeably, this may be considered sufficient. When we see the whole Pantheon on the ceiling and walls of great staircases, this undoubtedly might be defended on the ground that a mere passing impression of magnificence is intended: but the exuberance of quantity rather than of quality is here obvious. In whatever mode the walls of the staircase are adorned, the decoration should be entirely subservient to the architectural effect. This involves a more radical objection to the mythologic crowds before alluded to, because they have frequently the effect (and intentionally so) of destroying all idea of the angles of the building. I am of opinion, on the contrary, that the decorator should dispose his paintings in shapes which shall appear to grow out of and complete the architecture. The inclination of the panelling of the wall to agree with the line of the stairs, may be considered incompatible with paintings: a horizontal termination, perhaps level with the chief landing-place, is essential, and the triangular spaces, or sections of such spaces, between this and the stairs, had better be left nearly plain, and not very light in colour. Of all mistakes, that of introducing painted figures, sometimes the size of life, where living figures must so often come in contact with them, is the worst.

The compartment or compartments above the horizontal line might be painted in fresco, certainly not in oil on the wall, nor in the newly revived encaustic, at least not till it has been further tried. The figures should not extend to the angles of the walls where the staircase turns; the pseudo or real compartments which form the frames might finish at a little distance from the angle; the real wall is, in short, never to be lost sight of; and whatever merits ocular illusion may have in paintings generally, it would be injudicious to attempt it here. Where the light is unfavourable for painting, the flattest style of bas-relief is still admissible. But as you are especially desirous of having your staircase coloured, I really can propose nothing fitter to gratify the eye and imagination merely, than the more refined and at the same time familiar subjects of the Greek mythology; such as the personifications of Poetry, the progress of the Hours and of Light, and so forth. Such subjects afford the best materials for mere beauty of line and drapery, for composition generally, and, if not too statue-like, for colour; and even when they suggest no profounder range of thought, (not that their import is necessarily thus superficial,) they leave an elegant impression on the mind. The objection is, that they are old; but there would be some novelty in treating them as detached compositions, instead of beclouding and peopling the whole space in the style of the seventeenth century. It is to be remarked, that Raphael and Michael Angelo bounded their compositions of this kind by definite forms, especially on ceilings. Pietro da Cortona and the machinists generally, were as intent on destroying the connection between painting and architecture as the great masters were to preserve it.

But this separation of the compositions into compartments supposes at once a great latitude in the choice of subjects. Milton's smaller poems, and many other English sources, might be preferred to classic inventions; only it should be remembered, that fresco, from the nature of its means, is privileged to aim at the ideal rather than the actual world, and that the character of the decorations required for the place must necessarily influence the selection and treatment of the subjects. Dark effects are equally unfit for the situation and for the powers of fresco. In the ornamented divisions of the compartments, perhaps partial gilding might be employed with better effect than colours; on the ceiling both might be introduced, (in merely decorative forms,) unless your staircase ends in light, in which case your glass must of course be ornamented, even if colourless.

Dining rooms, strictly so called and employed, are generally unadorned with pictures: this hardly seems necessary. In theory we may admit that subjects requiring some contemplation would be out of place in a room exclusively devoted to "the table;" but portraits of celebrated individuals, and landscapes, although they cannot be duly examined in such moments, may convey associations, to which the spectator, even if not particularly conversant in pictures, is supposed to be alive at all times. Portraits of the class alluded to, as historic texts, are connected with time; and landscape, especially if founded on actual scenes, suggests the conditions of place. A room used for the purpose in question, and for nothing else, is, however, not the place where fine works of art should be bestowed; and I incline to think that this is the fittest field for small frescos and arabesques. This, in short, is one of the occasions to please the eye and the imagination merely. Accordingly, in the mode proposed, no definite idea is presented to the mind, but an air of elegant and festive splendour surrounds the guests. There should, however, be endless variety; scarcely a form should be repeated in the details, although an architectural symmetry is, as usual, to be preserved in the masses.

A dining room per se is not uncommon; but a professed and exclusive breakfast room supposes a degree of order in the family migrations, to which the muses could hardly be expected to accommodate themselves. Nevertheless, to complete my catalogue, I will suppose one; or rather I will suppose that one of your drawing rooms is used chiefly as a morning room. Indeed, without condemning a family to betake themselves to particular rooms at stated hours, it may be allowable to decorate and furnish apartments on such a supposition, by way of ensuring a marked and agreeable variety of character. Lucullus had even a series of dining rooms from the "Apollo" downwards; and we learn from Vitruvius,[8] that the opulent Romans changed the scene of their banquets according to the season of the year. The morning has its own feelings even for those whom affluence frees from any kind of labour. The purposes of the day are unfinished—every thing is contingent. Under such circumstances the character or subject of pictures is to be adapted to the mind—not the mind to the subject. The open face of nature by sea and land may here enliven the walls, and agree with the excursive feelings of the hour. The chase and its incidents may here triumph. The English pastoral is here strictly in its place. Solemn themes, solemn effects, should not be admitted; while all that responds to buoyancy of spirit would, on the contrary, be appropriate. It need not be gravely objected, that accidental or even average states of feeling may be little in unison with the impressions which the arts profess to give; for the same objection is frequently applicable to all of the accompaniments of civilized life, nay, to the beauties of nature, which so often appeal even to cultivated human sympathies in vain. The occasional contradiction is unavoidable, where, of two conditions, one is permanent, the other mutable.

Corridors on the ground-floor, or even upstairs in houses where pictures do not abound, may be fitly decorated with arabesques. The same kind of ornament might be applied to garden pavilions, and, in the present instance, even to your portico next the lake, if there are no statues there, but not to conservatories, where the conventional forms and tints of art would contend injudiciously with nature. In these decorations it is absolutely necessary to set out with an architectural scheme, and subdivide the spaces with some attention to congruity and subordination. In the details, pleasing masses and forms are essential, because here nothing can be concealed; there is, strictly speaking, no chiaro-scuro, no perspective: form and colour are the chief means. The possibility of approaching and even coming in contact with the painted wall, suggests the necessity of a small scale in the objects, and of precision and delicacy of outline; yet, from the circumstance of the forms and hues being relieved on a light ground, they are at the same time effective at a considerable distance.[9] Stucco ornaments in very low relief, mixed with the painting, are admissible, (as they can hardly be said to come under the head of sculpture,) but they require a strong light to display them.

I cannot recommend frescos for the sitting rooms of dwelling houses. The sum of enjoyment to be derived from one or two large paintings is not to be compared to that which the contributions of various schools can afford, even assuming the highest merit. It is true, frescos like those of the Villa Madama near Rome, from the school of Raphael, may be beautifully executed in a small size, but they still seem fitter for open galleries than for rooms. (I have only ventured to except the dining room.) The impossibility of change in such situations is an unpleasant feeling; in a public building, on the contrary, it is satisfactory, and a staircase approaches this character. I may here observe, that a staircase covered with ancient family portraits is seldom agreeable to the eye; indeed if it were a desirable kind of decoration, centuries must often elapse before the materials would be ready. The first impression on seeing a quantity of portraits in a staircase is, that it is an accidental if not a troublesome accumulation, and that there is no room for the pictures in better situations. Far be it from me to speak with any disrespect of the taste for family portraits so peculiar to the English. The domestic "charities," it has been often observed, are pleasingly fostered by them; but I hold it not always necessary to place the portraits of the household in prominent situations. The interest such works inspire is in most cases strictly domestic and private. The portrait has, in short, no pretension to be conspicuous to all eyes till the individual is celebrated, or till the work of art is canonized. These conditions, I admit, may often exist from the first; but then, à fortiori, a staircase is not the place for such a production. The Romans appropriated one of the most public rooms of the house (the tablinum) to genealogies, records, and inscriptions relating to the family history, and covered the remaining space—often the atrium as well—with the portraits and busts of their ancestors.[10] This does not appear to have been the custom with the Athenians.

We have decided against frescos in what are called sitting rooms: your oil pictures are, however, to be selected. I shall consider the library as distinct from the drawing rooms; but it is quite possible to blend their character. The library in the ducal palace at Urbino, had a room or study adjoining it, decorated with portraits (in this case, by the way, they appear to have been frescos) of learned men of all ages. In a library, literally to be used as such, pictures of extensive interest seem to be inappropriate. They may be said to divert the attention from the business or amusement of the place. But the portrait of the poet, or the sage, is a source of pleasing and elevating associations, and may sometimes command a deep interest. The library may contain the cabinets of gems and medals, the collections of engravings, the terra cottas, &c.; or if the drawing room is ample enough, all these treasures of virtù may be deposited there. I prefer a library without coloured decorations; the wood-work may be carved in flat relief, even to the panels of the walls; a mode of decoration now beautifully supplied by embossed leather, which need not be dark in colour. Whatever colour appears, except in the portraits, miniatures, or illuminations hung around, should be in the books; these should strike the eye, and be, so to speak, in the foreground of the picture. Vases, or busts, may surmount the cases. The ancients preferred the latter; and many, like Asinius Pollio, collected in their libraries the authentic, and even imaginary, portraits of great men. Among the latter was the bust of Homer.[11] The light is generally so unfavourable in the upper part of modern rooms, that busts when placed so high, are reduced to mere ornaments, and require the addition of names. This, indeed, is not objectionable in any case, for the interest of a portrait commonly depends on historical associations. I see no objection even to inscribing both the subject and the name of the master under works of art generally: a volume bears its title and author's name; and pictures, to many, are as sealed books till inquiry is stimulated or interest quickened by similar means. When the description is too long to admit of this, the words "see Catalogue, No. —" might be added.

If colour is admitted any where in the library, it might be in subjects on the ceiling, allowable here, if at all, in the region of easy chairs and occasional meditation; perhaps too, to a certain extent, in the windows. The introduction of subjects on ceilings has not been recommended generally, but in the system of arabesque painting the universal decoration of the walls requires to be carried into the ceiling. Sculpture, from the reasons already given, or rather in accordance with the same taste, is quite admissible in the library. Cicero frequently writes to his friend at Athens, to send him any good works in sculpture, fit to adorn the library and residence of a man of letters.[12]

But the choicest works of taste should unquestionably be in the room most occupied in hours of calm seclusion and leisure; and in order to find wall enough for the pictures, this may be assumed to be the principal drawing room. Here, therefore, may be the best specimens of painting, and even of sculpture, if the space permits: here, the chimney-piece may be by Flaxman, and the doors of the print-case by Stothard. The pictures cannot be very large, on account of their number and the size of the room. This, the objection which in a great measure excludes the grandest works from our dwelling houses, was met by the Italians, and by Nicolo Poussin, by reducing the grand to domestic conditions. If you have only small pictures, however, you cannot cover the upper part of the walls, for you are not supposed to have any work of art here which can be sacrificed.

Enlightened connoisseurs see excellence both in the Dutch and Italian schools, but they are often embarrassed in arranging them together. I am convinced, however, from instances I have seen, that this is to be accomplished satisfactorily. It is sometimes argued, that no one reads Milton and Crabbe alternately; but this is hardly a parallel case. Many go to a gallery to look at a particular picture, and see nothing else; the eye is blind when the attention is not actively exerted. So in a room, the spectator selects his favourites—his favourites at least for the time, and scarcely looks beyond them. At another moment, he will perhaps direct his undivided attention to works which he passed over on a former occasion. A certain congruity is sometimes to be accomplished, by attending to impressions rather than names and schools. Many an Italian picture would not be out of place with the Flemish and Dutch school; while Vandyck, Rembrandt, Cuyp, and others, might sometimes harmonize in many respects with the genius of the south. The arrangement of pictures comprehends some of the difficulties which the artist experiences in the production of one; for a certain balance and repose are as essential for the eye, as an harmonious impression for the mind. Much must, therefore, depend on the nature of the materials; and the (assumed) different character of your two drawing rooms may here be an advantage.

You, I know, will not ask whether the productions of the English school are admissible in this "Tribune" as well as elsewhere. Such is the variety of English art, that the more refined Dutch, the Flemish, and the Italian taste, may be recognized in it by turns, and no modern pictures harmonize with the scheme of colour and effect which characterize the master-works of former ages so well as the English of the last century. Thus much of schools, and those we have not mentioned may be tried by the same tests.

With regard to subjects, the mind as well as the eye must be respected: the ethos of painting is quite compatible with familiar and homely subjects; and, on the other hand, the greatest Italian masters have sometimes sought for poetic impressions in regions where it would be unsafe to follow them. But, with this reservation, you must not be exclusive: various minds, or the same mind in various moods, will like variety of aliment. In other situations, which we have had occasion to consider, the subject has been in a great degree calculated on the probable feelings of the spectator; here, the subject is independent, because the attention is free, and the whole art appeals by turns to the whole range of thought. The leisure of cultivated human beings should be so far complimented as to assume that all the strivings of the mind are worthy to be ministered to. It is a mistake to suppose that solemn or even terrible themes are always objectionable; I believe it will be found that the grander efforts of invention (I speak of works by the ancient masters) are very generally appreciated by the gentler sex. On the other hand, the fondness for humbler subjects is not always referable to the homeliness of the incident represented. The subject often acquires elevation, and commands respect, by the evidence of mental labour and power in the artist. To a true connoisseur, this skilful application of principles derived from universal nature, supersedes the mere subject; and the idea which he recognizes, whatever may be its vehicle, is grand and poetical. Less experienced observers are often deceived by the title of pictures: "A Court Yard" (de Hooghe) sounds unpromising enough; but when it is seen that the painter has represented daylight with magical truth, and that all is subservient to this, his aim must be acknowledged to be dignified. It is to be observed too, that the influence of this high aim on the part of the artist, often extends itself to the treatment of the materials which constitute his ostensible subject. It is easy to see from the unaffected feeling, as well as from the relative character of the execution in some (though not all) of the Dutch masters, that the real subject of their meditation was noble. I should like to see a catalogue raisonné on the principle to which I have alluded, distinguishing the title of a picture from the real intention of the artist. Many frequenters of the National Gallery criticise Reynolds's Three Graces, whence it appears they are not sufficiently aware that the personages in question are portraits of three fashionable ladies of the day, under the name of the Graces, &c. If some titles were translated, what a contrast the real import of the work would present to the actual name! What a change, for instance, from the modesty of some of ——'s titles, "Crossing the Brook,"—"Coal-barges in the Thames: Night," to the beauty and grandeur that would have to be clothed in language! But what language would be adequate?

With respect to the colour of the walls on which pictures are hung, my opinion is singular without being novel. I am quite aware that it is necessary to consider wall, pictures, gold frames, and all, in relation to general effect: the gold, especially, is to be treated as part of the coup d'œil. But, though I remember examples of light walls hung with pictures, producing an agreeable effect, I prefer a colour which displays the pictures more, and must also maintain, that living pictures are seldom seen to the best advantage against a bright ground; the quantity of actual light (it may always be assumed) making reflected light unnecessary: my idea, in one word, is, that the wall should not be so light as the lights of the pictures; and this supposes a sufficiently low tint. Of such colours, the most agreeable is the long established rich red, which might be sufficiently allied to purple, to give value to the gold frames and the warm colour of the pictures. I need not recommend you to avoid too much unbroken polish in the frames, since this is now very generally disapproved of.

I have, as you see, exercised, apparently without scruple, the dictatorial authority with which you have invested me; but the frequent recurrence of "my opinion" becomes painful even to the arbiter who has a carte blanche to lay down the law. As a relief, I intended to have given you some extracts from an Italian ethical work (printed about the middle of the 16th century[13]) in which there is a chapter on the "ornamenti della casa;" but they would have been, perhaps, little suited to your purpose, and I have already far exceeded the space I ought to occupy. As I may not, however, again have an opportunity of alluding to this work, which is not unimportant in the history of Italian art, I wish briefly to advert to one or two points.