It is reported here, that the Pope has offered a palace to the Prince Regent for the purpose of receiving an English academy. The French, you know, have an excellent establishment here on a large scale, occupying the house of the Villa Medici. They have dwelling-rooms for the students, and workshops for such as require them; a suite of apartments for the director; a common dining-room; a handsome suite for the public exhibitions; and a fine gallery of casts. An English establishment might be formed on a much less expensive plan. It would not be necessary, or even desirable, to maintain the students; but if it were in contemplation to provide any further assistance of that sort, beyond what is now done by the Royal Academy, it would be better to supply it from a perfectly distinct fund. The most essential requisite is a point of union, and the facility of reference, which would be obtained by a library, and a collection of casts; and two or three thousand pounds at first, and ten or twelve hundred per annum afterward, would be amply sufficient for every useful purpose. An institution on a much more moderate scale than even the one above mentioned, and such as would be within the reach of many English gentlemen, would be a very great advantage, and the patron would immortalize himself by it. A library is the most important object, and the necessary attendance on it, the most expensive one; but by properly availing oneself of the assistance of the students, that might be much diminished. We must in this case give up any idea of a librarian who should be capable of directing their studies. His duty would be merely to take care of the books, and there are many very competent persons in Rome who could execute this office, and attend at stated times for very little remuneration; not perhaps English, but Germans or Italians; and in this way a sum of five hundred pounds for the commencement, and from two to three hundred per annum, would accomplish the most important objects. New books are of more consequence than old, both because the student ought to be pretty well acquainted with the latter before he visits Italy; and because they are to be found in the Roman libraries, where a new book seldom enters. Books of established merit are the next things to be procured; then architectural casts; the productions of sculpture are so much more accessible, and conveniently situated for the student, than those of architecture, that casts of the latter are of prior importance. But though the students in sculpture will prefer copying the originals, casts of the finest statues must not be neglected, with the opportunity of displaying them in different positions, and under different lights.
In the winter of 1821 the English artists who resided at Rome established an evening academy for the purpose of studying from the living model, defraying the expenses by occasional subscriptions among themselves. The advantages of such an institution were felt and valued, and the interest with which the artists regarded their infant academy, was communicated to many of their countrymen. Subscriptions were raised, and the Royal Academy gave both their sanction and assistance. The object of the institution was not merely to provide accommodation for the students who happened to be at Rome at the time of its formation, but to found a permanent school for the benefit of British artists, where they might pursue their studies unimpeded by the inconveniences attending crowded schools, and without being indebted to the liberality of foreign institutions. It was therefore resolved to defray the current expenses, as nearly as possible, from the interest of the money subscribed, and this now amounts to 331 scudi per annum, which is sufficient to cover the expenses, on the present very small scale. But in its actual state, though highly useful, it must still be acknowledged to be very insufficient. It possesses one cast, that of the Apollo; a few books, but no library, nor indeed any room in which either that, or a collection of casts, could be placed. The rent of a suitable range of apartments would alone swallow up twice the whole income of the academy. However, as additional subscriptions are obtained every year, the fund continues slowly to increase, and I trust will continue to do so till the whole is placed in a state worthy of the English nation. It is peculiarly a national concern, for the artist who has exerted himself the most for its prosperity, leaves Rome in a year or two, and reaps no other advantage from his labours, than the reflection of having contributed something to the common good.
The Roman Academy occupies an extensive building,[19] and seems in general to be well regulated; there are four professors; of ornamental architecture; of perspective; of the theory of architecture; and of the practice; and I believe each professor gives a lesson or a lecture twice a week. Among the students, the first year is supposed to be employed in elementary architecture; the second in copying plans, elevations, sections, and other architectural drawings; and the four following in the theory and practice of architecture. As at Paris, a programma, or subject for design, is given out about once a month, which the students study at home, and bring their labours to the professor for his criticisms and corrections; and once a year a more elaborate production is required, and a silver medal given to each of those, who execute their task with care and ability.
The standard work on the orders, in the Roman, and I believe, in all the academies of France and Italy, is that of Giacomo Barozzi da Vignola, which perhaps is hardly so good in that respect as the publication of Sir William Chambers; but there is no writer who has accomplished a greater revolution in architecture in Italy, than Milizia, and his influence is felt everywhere, though we hardly know his name in England. He has written his own life, and as it is very short, and very characteristic, I will give it to you.
“Every body ought to write the history of his own life, in order to incite himself continually to mend it, and in order to furnish to posterity something of the present time which may be depended on. On this account, I who have written so many lives, now write a sketch of my own. I was born at Oria, a little town in the Terra di Otranto, in the kingdom of Naples, in 1725. I was the only son of the richest, and noblest family of the hamlet. At nine years old I was taken to Padua, where an uncle of mine, who had been driven from home by some youthful errors, exercised the profession of medicine. There I studied the belles lettres to very little purpose, and after seven years, ran away from Padua, on account of some reproofs received from my uncle, and wandered to Bobbio, near Piacenza, whence I wrote to my parents; and after going to Pavia and Milan, I came to Rome, where my father met me. He conducted me to Naples, and left me to continue my studies at that capital. I studied a little of logic and metaphysics under the celebrated Abate Genovese, and natural philosophy and geometry under Padre Orlandi, a Celestine monk. But I ran away also from Naples, prompted by a desire to see the world, and especially France, but was obliged to turn back again from Leghorn for want of money. I then returned home to Oria, where, after a long continuance of an idle and heedless life, I retired into a country house to study the sciences. At last, at the age of twenty-five, I married a lady of Gallipoli, of a good family and an agreeable disposition; and there I fixed myself, with some application to books, but more to pleasure.
“Having obtained a more comfortable provision from my father, I came with my wife to Rome, and after remaining there a year and a half, returned to Gallipoli for another year, and then fixed myself at Rome. Here I have continued to study, and took a fancy to architecture without being able to draw. Enamoured of this art, which I think the most beautiful, and most useful of all, I wrote the Lives of the most celebrated Architects, which was well received by the public, though the criticisms were severe and the style unpolished.
“After this I translated the article, Bleeding, from the Encyclopædia, and gave a trimming to the physicians and to medicine. Afterwards, I compiled the Elements of pure Mathematics, according to the Abbé de la Caille, for my own improvement, and it was printed at Rome at the instance of some of my friends. I then wrote other works, and shall continue writing as long as I live. A treatise on the stage was much controverted at Rome. When I conceived that I had made some progress in my architectural studies, I wrote with a degree of bravura, the Elements of Civil Architecture, which has been reprinted many times. My Art of seeing in the Fine Arts is a little book which made some noise in the world, and particularly displeased the stupid adorers of Buonarroti. In compliance afterwards with the wishes of a distinguished friend (Cav. Zulian, ambassador of the republic of Venice at Rome), I undertook to write a work to point out the beauties and deformities of ancient and modern Rome; and I published the first part with the title of Roma delle belle Arti del Disegno; but the persecution of ignorant professors rendered it necessary to suspend the second and third. After this work I attached myself to natural history, and wrote a great deal on plants and animals, without printing anything, except the translation of Bowles’s Introduction to the Natural History and Physical Geography of Spain, which was published at Parma. After this, Bailly’s History of Ancient and Modern Astronomy came into my hands, and I made an abridgment of it in one volume in octavo. The Encyclopædia Methodica furnished me with the means of making a Pocket Dictionary of the Fine Arts, published in two volumes. The article, Engraving, in this dictionary, was also printed separately, with some additions. In compliance with the wish of my illustrious friend the Cav. D. Nicola de Azara, I exerted myself considerably in the compilation of the works of Mengs. I have now completed a Dictionary of Domestic Medicine, on the plan of that of W. Buchan, a Scotch physician, which, if printed, will make two volumes in octavo, and will be intelligible to everybody. Another little work on political economy is now in the press; a subject to which I have attached myself, in spite of the unsuitable circumstances of the present times.” Milizia died in March, 1798, of an inflammation in the lungs.
From this rambling compiler, whose attention was directed sometimes one way, and sometimes another, you will perhaps expect nothing but an echo of the opinions of others in a form somewhat different. I know nothing of his other works, but in architecture he is remarkable for the boldness of his original speculations. He seems to have been a man of a powerful understanding, not very patient of labour; confident in himself; not taking up opinions on the faith of another; and never hesitating to expose, and to defend his own. Architecture exactly wanted such a writer. It was in a languid state in Italy, vibrating like politics and religion, between a slavish adherence to rules not understood, and entire license. He who had liberated himself from these arbitrary shackles, considered himself free from all restraint, and never thought of being reasonable, either in his submission or rebellion. Milizia applies reason to every thing, and his fault is in being too reasonable, that is, in endeavouring to found upon reason, certain practices which are only conventional, and which we follow because experience has shewn that they please, without our being able to assign the cause of this pleasure. He writes with spirit, and frequently with a severe sarcastic wit which will insure his being read; and he possesses a singularly happy and forcible mode of expression, to which the Italian language in his hands, seems wonderfully suited: had he written in one of our northern languages, he would have been frequently forced and harsh, and it would be difficult to translate him, and preserve any portion of his spirit, without falling into this defect. Though strongly vindicating his own freedom, he is much inclined to lay down arbitrary rules for others, and even to applaud a despotic exertion of the authority of government in matters of taste; not considering that the true use of rules is to guide, not to govern us; that they are merely the direction posts which mark the road pursued by some of those who have advanced farthest towards the conception of perfect beauty. Other, and even better roads, may possibly exist, but it does not show good sense to be ignorant of what has been proved good, or to desert the known track without well understanding what it is, and what direction it takes, as well as the nature of the country we have to pass over.
I shall proceed to give you some notion of the individual works of this author, taking them in the order in which he mentions them, which is that of their production. The Memorie degli Architetti is preceded by a general view of the principles of the art. He contends that architecture is an imitative art, and he makes its claim to be considered as one of the fine arts, to consist in this imitation. In this he is evidently wrong, as the claim of this, or any other, to a place among the fine arts, depends on its power of exciting mental emotion. He then proceeds to give what he considers as fixed and unalterable rules, which, as they are here given in a condensed form, and are the same which he insists upon in his later works, I shall translate.
“Architecture, like every other fine art, is subject to the following general rules.
1. “In all its productions, we should find an agreeable correspondence of the parts with the whole. This is known by the name of symmetry.
2. “It ought to have variety, lest the spectator’s attention should be wearied; and unity, which is opposed to confusion and disorder. This is comprehended in the term eurithmia.
3. “Convenience, or suitableness, is also a necessary quality. This consists in a just application of symmetry and eurithmia, and of that relation which ought to subsist between an edifice, and the purpose to which it is applied; between the details of ornament, and the general appearance of the building, chusing the most appropriate, and the style which accords best with the magnificence or simplicity of the structure.
4. “If architecture be the daughter of necessity, every beauty which it possesses ought to connect itself with that necessity, and to appear made for some useful purpose. In every art which administers to pleasure, the artifice ought not to be discovered; every thing done for mere ornament is a defect.
5. “The principal ornaments of architecture are its orders, which in fact are rather to be considered as the skeleton, and most essential part of the edifice, than as mere ornament. We might therefore define the orders, necessary ornaments arising from the nature of the edifice. All the other decorations of architecture are subject to the same law.
6. “Consequently, in architecture the decoration is the result of the construction. Nothing is ever to be seen in a fabric, that has not its appropriate use, and is not an essential part of the structure: the office that it indicates, it ought to perform.
7. “Consequently, nothing is admissible for which a good reason cannot be rendered.
8. “These reasons are to be deduced from the origin and analysis of that primitive natural architecture, the hut; from whence has arisen the beautiful imitative art of civil architecture. This is the pole-star of the artist in his works, and of the intelligent observer in examining them. Everything should rest upon truth and verisimilitude. What could not really exist, cannot be approved, although evidently a matter of mere show.
9. “Examples and authority, however they may be appealed to, will never influence him who wishes to be reasonable.
“These principles are constant, positive, general; because they depend on the nature of the thing itself; and on good sense. Taken together, they constitute the true and essential beauty of architecture; if they are kept out of view, adieu architecture. It is no more a science or an art, but is changed into mere fashion, caprice, or delirium.”
You see there are some things in these first principles which might be criticised, or at least, which require explanation; there is much more of a disputable nature in the details, but all is laid down in the same authoritative manner. Other rules are to be despised; his are to be obeyed; and he seems to think, that if the rules are good, the artist has only to follow them in order to produce the highest degree of beauty; a theory, you know, totally opposite to mine, who hold, that in all the fine arts, rules can do comparatively little to produce beauty; the expression of Mind is the great essential; and if the mind itself contain it not, no rules, no labour, can ever make good the deficiency.
The work itself consists of a chronological account of architects, a mode of compilation in which the Italians are very rich, and where the names of Tiraboschi, Lanzi, and Milizia, will always be mentioned with praise. In the earlier parts there are perhaps many things on very slight authority, but the author seems always to have sought carefully, the best within his reach. The criticisms are more severe, where he had the opportunity of judging for himself, than where he adopts them from others; but he is always animated, and ready to admire what is excellent, as well as to ridicule what is defective. It is gratifying to an architect to observe, that almost all the great men in that profession were long lived, and of a good moral character.
The Principii di Architettura Civile, in three octavo volumes, contains the same view of the subject, carried out into all its bearings, as that sketched in the preface to the Memorie degli Architetti. In spite of the apparently limited nature of the subject, he has made great part of his book interesting, and even amusing. Like Vitruvius, he is fond of introducing a little natural history, and he is hardly more correct, or more to the purpose than his Latin original. I have sometimes had thoughts of translating both this and the preceding, but I must be permitted to leave out some of these accessories.
Of the Arte di Vedere, I have already made mention on two or three occasions. Milizia had probably been disgusted by the extravagant praises so lavishly bestowed on Michael Angelo, and echoed from one writer to another; and in this book he sees nothing but his defects. No wonder then, that it offended the “stupid adorers of Buonarroti,” and the sensible ones too. On this, and several other occasions, Milizia gives to Mengs a degree of praise which the present age disclaims. In the Roma delle belle Arti, praise and blame are more mixed. The offence seems to have been taken from the force and spirit of the remarks, rather than their direction; he may sometimes exaggerate, but he rarely blames on grounds either insufficient or mistaken. The Dictionary is by no means a mere compilation; Milizia could not write without criticising, and no man was less disposed to adopt implicitly the observations and sentiments of another. He has in these works frequently repeated himself, but they all contain much original matter.
It seems ridiculous to compare the advantages which an English student in architecture may derive from our academy, with those offered at Paris or Rome, but the spirit and energy of individuals makes up what is wanting in public instruction. A most important part of an architect’s education, is that which he receives abroad, but perhaps a little more assistance at home might enable him to employ his time to greater advantage. It is impossible to give any precise rules, because the best possible line of conduct will vary with the talents, the acquirements, and disposition of the individual; some observations however may be made which will apply to all.
A certain portion of knowledge ought to be attained at home, and therefore my first undertaking will be to point out what ought to be learned, previous to any attempt at improvement by travelling. A task the more necessary, because there is, as far as I know, no instruction now usually given, either public or private, by which it is indicated. The student in architecture has to consider four objects, which have no natural connexion with each other, but which nevertheless must be united in the erection of every edifice, beauty, solidity, convenience, and economy. Our exclusion for many years from the continent, no less perhaps than a somewhat severe, and rigid spirit, which requires in every thing utility, and almost limits that utility to bodily accommodation, has inclined us to neglect the study of the beautiful. Other reasons might be added, and in particular the notion very prevalent among the students themselves, that the conception of beauty, and the capacity of producing it, are gifts of nature, not the fruit of application; “Poeta nascitur, non fit,” they apply to artists as well as to poets, and support their opinion by the very remarkable fact, that the great men in every country have been formed independently of academies, and that after such establishments are formed, great men cease. There is undoubtedly some truth in this, and it would be very desirable that some one capable of the task would undertake to explain the reason of the deficiency; but when it is applied as a reason against study, it is, as far as regards architecture, completely false. Because supposing even that the highest beauties should present themselves unsought to the man of genius, yet, whatever talent he might have, it would require great study to be able to comprehend the relation between the object to be produced, and the drawings and descriptions by which it is to be explained to others. Nor is it at all true that the most celebrated architects have wanted the means of instruction. Palladio, and all the others who have highly distinguished themselves, have enriched their fancy, and purified their taste, by studying the ancient monuments of Rome. Michael Angelo in his old age was found by Cardinal Farnese at the Coliseum, when the ground was covered with snow, and replied to the inquiries of the cardinal, that he was there to study architecture.
According to the usual practice of our architects, a lad, after he has left school, where he has learned to read and write, arithmetic, a little geometry, and perhaps a very little drawing, together with some other things not applicable to architecture, is placed in an architect’s office, where his first employments are probably, to copy particulars of work, without understanding them, and to square dimensions from nine in the morning till seven or eight in the evening. After this, if he is studiously inclined, he may perhaps go to the academy at Somerset House, where in the course of a year, he may hear six lectures on architecture, provided that is, that the professor is neither sick, nor idle, nor too busy to give them; or he will employ himself at home in making designs, without at all knowing what are the requisites for any mode of design whatever. When thus, as it were almost in spite of his master, he has learned to draw a little, he may be employed in copying plans, and afterwards elevations and sections, or in measuring the works erected by his superior, not to make himself master of their beauties, but in order to furnish the materials for estimating their value. Perhaps the difficulty of improving himself under these disadvantages may give a stimulus to his exertions; and he does not come out of the office so ignorant as might be expected. Nor indeed, although his professed instructor will not teach, will he refuse him an opportunity of occasionally frequenting private schools of drawing and perspective, or of attending sometimes at the library of the Academy, or in the model-room. He may also perhaps have exercised himself in measuring and drawing the subjects proposed for annual premiums, but with all this it is impossible that he should be prepared to travel with advantage.
I would not recommend every one to travel. Those who prosecute architecture merely as a means of obtaining money, without any pleasure in any part of it, without any desire of fame, or any generous admiration of excellence, had much better stay at home. They may rest confidently assured that travelling will never pay. It would indeed be better that such should not addict themselves to architecture in the first instance, or to any of the fine arts; the same exertion of talents and industry would assuredly have been more profitably employed in another direction. The pleasure arising from the occupation itself, the respectability attending its honourable exercise, the hope of future reputation and fame, will entice in this direction a greater number of young men than would otherwise fall to its share; and these things are always to be considered as part of payment. Yet this, though true in all countries, is probably less so in England, than anywhere else, because we almost measure a man’s merit by the money he gets, or at least by that which he is able to spend; and therefore without travelling, and without any intimate knowledge of his profession, a young man need not despair of making his way. And especially, if he join agreeable manners to attention to business, he will find employers, who will care even less than he can do, for science and art; and he may perhaps in time be on the Board of Works. Our ministers will rarely take the trouble to appreciate any superior acquirements in architecture; witness the mode in which various public bodies have furnished themselves with architects; witness the report on the postoffice, where it was stated, if I recollect right, that as much ornament was not required, it mattered little whom they employed as architect. As if such an edifice, because it did not pretend to be magnificent, were to be entirely devoid of character; as if good proportions, and a graceful distribution of the different parts, did not form a most essential part of the study of the architect; and were not even more rare, and more important qualifications, than the employment of ornament; and as if convenience, solidity, and economy, were not more securely obtained under the direction of a skilful artist.
Notwithstanding these absurdities, he who has nobler views need not despair. We have many gentlemen in England, who join to a cultivated mind and correct taste, a very extensive knowledge of architecture; and sooner or later, merit will find its true place in the public esteem, which follows where such men lead the way. Leaving therefore the ignorant and grovelling, to be protected by those who resemble them, I shall proceed to consider what ought to be known, and what done by him who travels to improve himself.
In the first place, I require of him that he should be able to read French and Italian with tolerable facility, and that he should speak them both a little. He ought to understand well the orders of architecture, so as to be able to sketch any one correctly without reference to his books, and to be acquainted with their varieties in the principal published examples. He must have been accustomed to draw, from casts or from the stone, the usual architectural ornaments, and particularly the Corinthian capital; making of them plans, elevations, sections, and views: every thing necessary in order completely to understand them himself, and to enable him to explain them to others. I say nothing of his ability to take the general plans, &c. of buildings, because I consider it as a matter of course. He should be capable of representing these ornaments justly, not only on flat, but also on curved surfaces, as for instance, on a vault or a dome; and this not only geometrically, but also in perspective, and he must understand exactly the forms assumed in perspective by the different curves of the Doric capital, and of the Attic base, and the effect of light and shade upon them: a subject perhaps, in spite of its extreme simplicity, more difficult to manage than the Corinthian capital. All these seem to be absolutely necessary to facilitate the correct understanding and delineation of the objects he may meet with on his journey; and their effects, both as single objects, and in combination with other parts and accompaniments. Let me add, that if he had at least attempted to model some of them, it would be a great advantage to him, as this act requires a still more precise acquaintance with form, than even the correct drawing. He should also be able to sketch landscapes and figures; not as a professed painter or sculptor, but enough to explain the effect both of situation, and of the addition of statues and bas-reliefs; and to form at least a scale to his drawings, by the introduction of living objects.
This power of sketching is considered by some architects as a luxury of the art, rather than as essential to the perfection of the artist; but it appears to me of the greatest importance. The geometrical designs, the measures both of the parts, and of the whole, he may obtain from books; what he is particularly to study is the relation between these, and the effect produced on his mind by the use of these measures; his sketches are records of his own feelings, and therefore engravings would not supply their place; even if we had good views, which is notoriously not the case, of most of the admired buildings of Europe; nor is it enough to consider a design merely from one point of view; it should be examined from many points, and compared, mentally at least, with the geometrical drawing. It is exactly that relation of cause and effect which is the proper object of his study. As for figures, if he is making drawings on a large scale, it will be better to apply to an artist, but he cannot always do this, and ought to be able to supply them tolerably well of himself. I do not in either case require that he should be a finished artist, but merely that he should be able to express himself in this language with intelligence and feeling. Some of these acquirements are perhaps better attained in Paris than in London; and in consequence, some of our artists, before travelling into Italy, have put themselves for a year under the direction of a French architect, and frequented the academy. The plan is a good one on many accounts, although perhaps many parents might tremble, at leaving a young man, at an age when the passions are strong, and reason weak, exposed without any shelter, to the temptations of Paris. The propriety of this will depend very much on the character and circumstances of the student, nor can I pretend to give any advice on the subject. In point of architecture, every nation has a manner of its own. Some peculiar defects would probably be avoided by free intercourse with the artists of other countries, and the instructions at the French academy are very good.
So much for the beautiful in architecture: in construction there is less to be learned in travelling, but the student must not be ignorant of it. He should know the elements of geometry and the mathematics, and of their application to mechanics. He must be acquainted with the usual method of forming roofs, and floors, and the principles which determine the magnitudes of the different parts; and will have learned the general rules which regulate the thickness of piers and walls, which have to support the action of vaults and arches. It is not necessary that he should be a profound mathematician, or able on every occasion to calculate the value of active and opposing forces. Calculations have been made by much better mathematicians than he is likely to be, and besides, such results are subject to so many exceptions and modifications, arising from the imperfect nature of the materials, that experience at last is found to be the principal guide.
Convenience is principally studied in plans, but the manners of different countries vary so widely, that what would be perfectly satisfactory in one place, would be considered as very defective in another: nevertheless, it is useful to observe the different distribution of the apartments in different places, and to understand their merits as connected with the manners of the inhabitants.
The study of economy, that is, of the best employment of a given quantity of materials and labour, or what amounts to the same thing, the performance of any given work with the least possible quantity of materials and labour, must accompany that of construction and solidity. The habit of noticing in every case how far it has been observed, and where it has failed, will greatly strengthen the judgment on this subject; but we must always remember, that the formation of a less beautiful or less durable building by smaller means, is not economy, but parsimony.
An architect should not be a mere artist; he ought to have some tincture both of literature and science, and also some knowledge of history. Not to draw from it irrelevant fables, as Vitruvius tells us, but to enrich the mind and strengthen the understanding. In every work of art, and I may be forgiven for repeating the sentiment, the highest value is in the impression of the mind of the artist; and how can that deserve admiration which is the product of feebleness or fatuity?
These previous reflections, on what a student ought to know before he travels, will pretty well point out to us what he has to do while in foreign countries. I shall not attempt to indicate the particular edifices which deserve his attention; but I would rather recommend him to study whatever strikes him most. He will get on faster, and probably farther, by carefully improving his natural taste, than in endeavouring to form to himself another. And let him never forget that the object of his study is to trace out beauties, not to enumerate defects, and congratulate himself on his own superiority, or on that of his country: he is to hunt out what is excellent, and to separate the gold from the dross; and if in buildings generally praised, he cannot find any thing to admire, he may be pretty confident that there is some defect in himself. Their merits perhaps may consist in particulars to which he is less sensible than many other people, and he may think such particulars more highly valued than they deserve, and he may possibly be right in so thinking; yet if he be not capable of seeing those merits, it must be attributed to his want of eyesight.
Many students in architecture seem to employ themselves wholly in measuring different buildings, ancient or modern, and imagine that while so doing, their time is necessarily well employed. To a certain degree this is a desirable occupation, and it fills the portfolio, and makes a great display of industry; yet it is possible to be more industrious, and more usefully so, and have less to shew. No artist has the notion of ever following any of these buildings minutely in his own productions. Who would ever think of copying the Pantheon in its precise dimensions, and in its details, or what employer either public or private could ever require it? and if it were to be done, have we not engravings which would be sufficiently exact? In a length of 144 feet, it is impossible to consider an inch or two more or less, as of any importance. Nor is the wish to return with a great number of laborious drawings a reasonable motive. After the first month or two they are neglected, and as they have little beauty in themselves, and are not wanted for imitation, they sleep perhaps for ever in the portfolio. The real motive for measuring any building is to understand it better. The student’s attention is forced in succession on each individual part; he gets it as it were by heart, and what he possesses on paper is of little value compared with that which he fixes in his mind, and indeed the principal merit of the first is, that it recals the latter, which among so many objects might be forgotten.
What the student has to do then, is to see every ancient building, and every modern building of consequence. To remark whatever pleases him, and to note it on paper, either in writing, or by sketches, or rather by both. To consider what are the circumstances to which the effect which he admires is owing; whether in the general distribution of the masses, in the disposition of the orders, or in the minuter details; and to take such dimensions, and make such drawings, as would enable him upon occasion to produce a similar effect; and this mental process is to be applied, not merely to the beauty, but also to the solidity, convenience, and economy of the edifice. This will form his principal employment; but besides this he will find it advantageous to notice, whatever either in plan, or in ornament, gives character to one edifice, or to one style of architecture; to copy in detail a few of the most beautiful ornaments, whether of friezes or of capitals, or of any other part; and to go completely through, in plans, sections, &c., one or two ancient, and one or two modern buildings, till he makes himself quite master of the feeling of the artist. As for the time employed, it is by no means of consequence that every one should see every thing. One may visit the South of France, which another may neglect. Some may repair to one city of Italy, and others to another. One may pass over slightly, what another studies with the greatest care; but every one should see Rome and Vicenza. I may add Pæstum, and out of Italy, Athens. No person can form a just idea of any style of architecture, without seeing its best examples. Prints may recal what we have seen, but they give a very imperfect notion of the degree of excellence of what we have not seen. We must study the Corinthian at Rome, the Doric, in its more solid and massy form at Pæstum; in its more graceful proportions at Athens; if there were any Ionic building remaining tolerably perfect in Asia Minor, I should send him to that country, but this I am afraid is not the case. Rome will be his head quarters, because it is convenient to fix oneself principally in one place, and Rome, from the multitude of its objects both ancient and modern, and from the society obtained among artists of all nations, who resort thither, is far preferable to any other city. Here, if he stay two years, including one summer at Tivoli and Palestrina, and another at Terni, Assisi, &c., he will not find it too much. Eight months would do for all the North of Italy, and three more for Naples and Pæstum, provided he do not go to Sicily, which I do not consider as necessary; there is no Doric edifice in that island equal to the great temple at Pæstum. Considering the inconvenient travelling, and the quarantine, he ought to allow at least a year for Greece, half of which should be spent at Athens. And these, with the time of going and returning, will occupy somewhat more than four years; and if Sicily or the South of France be added, something may be taken from other objects to bring it within four years and a half: it is probably better that the student should set out with the prospect of an earlier return, for four years and a half seems a long while, both to a young man and to his parents; and the former may perhaps relax in his efforts, when he sees the time before him, more clearly than the employments which are to fill it up.