learn in books, the number of the Italian schools, and styles described, must be discouraging. But when he examines pictures chronologically, he will perceive that the various schools, from the early Christian periods to the sixteenth century, exhibit the same leading impulse, and differ principally in technical execution. Christian painting, as we find it in the Umbrian school, was no child of that period, but had a long line of ancestors, of mixed blood and various kingdoms. We find it derived from Rome; modified, degraded, and heathenised by the Byzantines; starting into new life in Florence; freshened by the invigorating breezes from the north of the Alps; and finally growing to maturity in the soil most grateful to it. And as all things have their appointed periods, and as these periods may be hastened by departure from laws established by an infinite intelligence, so the decay of art soon followed on its perfection, and its apparently premature death was caused by the forsaking of that Christian spirit, which, for a thousand years, was its nurse, instructor, and support.

But other causes assisted in the downfall of art. As letters and science advanced, as education became more extended, and as the commercial spirit engrosssed so much of the energies of Europe, new avenues to distinction, new channels for the expansive efforts of mind were every day formed. The creation of wealth outstripped the formation of taste; imitation in art took the place of originality, and surreptitious pictures put forward as the real works of the great masters found a readier sale than works of merit, but of a later date. Thus two evils were created, for the painter became a copyist and a deceiver, and the public taste was satisfied with base imitations.

But it might be supposed that the advance of letters and science should have had a beneficial effect on art: we believe the reverse has been the fact, yet more particularly with respect to science. There is a closer connection between letters and art, than between science and art. The palmiest days of painting were those of Dante, Petrarch, Boccaccio, Ariosto, and Tasso, of Chaucer, Rabelais, Loyola, Lope di Vega, Spencer, and Shakspeare. There was a mutual feeling of admi

ration between the poets, and painters, and architects of the Augustan age of painting; the artist often following the inspiration of the poet, and the poet delighting in the works of the painter. Thus in Petrarch's will he bequeathes a picture of the Virgin, by Giotto, to a dear friend-" In cujus pulchritudinem ignorantes non intelli gunt, magistri autem artis stupent."

Yet the spread of letters ultimately proved injurious, not only by giving, as we have already noticed, new vents to the energies of mind, but as leading back to a taste for heathen art, and perhaps too, engendering a proud and sceptical spirit, hostile to the progress of Chris

tian art.

The advance of science, howeverdating from the seventeenth century -presents a singular contrast to the dawn of letters. It corresponds to the decline of art, to the attempts of the eclectics and the naturalisti, and the formation of the Dutch school. In its very nature, too, science is opposed to the progress of art, for in its pursuit the imagination must be kept down-it demands industry, at least as much as genius-its object is not to create, but to observe what is already created, and to form conclusions from ascer tained facts, and all this connected with the close relation of each new fact to the purposes of mere utility, must engender feelings opposed to poetry and to art.

A friend has pointed out to us the interesting fact, that many of those parts of Italy which have produced the greatest painters, were in the number of the Etruscan states, and has permitted us to embody the following observations in the present article.

We find the Etrurians far advanced in civilization before the destruction of Troy; and their progress in all humanizing arts, vindicating their claim to be the most favoured nation of antiquity. They were acquainted with letters and physical sciences. They preserved their annals: they had enrolled orders of priests, and a singular and complicated system of religious discipline. Music, architecture, sculpture, painting, engraving of gems, casting of metal, and the art of pottery, were all carried to a high pitch by this extraordinary people. They were a commercial and an aristocratic nation, and there is reason to believe,

acknowledged the influence of women in their social relations. The disseminators of art, they built the walls of Rome nearly eight hundred years before Christ, and, under their king, Tarquinius, erected the Temple of Jupiter, on the Tarpeian Mount. The triumphal arches, the kingly and consular ornaments, the cross and badges of the magistrates, the curule chair, the Etruscan diadem, and all the symbols of sovereignty of the mistress of the world, were borrowed from Etruria.

According to the best authorities, Etruria was comprised in three divisions, of which the most important was that of Tuscany, embracing twelve cities. The second, or circumpadane portion, embraced the plains on both sides of the Po, and extended to the Alps; while the third was to the south of Rome, in the province of Campania, where, according to Strabo, there were also twelve principal cities.

It is interesting to observe, that many of these cities had individual characters with respect to productions of art, and this remark applies principally to the Tuscan settlements. Thus, Tarquinia was celebrated for the engraving of gems; Cortona and Perusia for their bronzes; Volterra for alabaster sarcophagi, and Aretium for its vases.

After the lapse of more than two thousand years, we find Tuscany and other Etruscan states giving birth to the greatest painters, sculptors, engravers, and musicians.

Florence, the capital of Tuscany, produced Taffi, Giotto, and Cimabue, the two Gaddis, Orcagna, and Lionardo da Vinci; Sienna gave birth to Duccio, Simon Memmi, Bartolo, and Guido da Siena; the state of Umbria, Gentile, and the immortal Raphael; Perugia, Perugino; Arezzo, the ancient Aretium, Michael Angelo; and Cortona, Signorelli. So that, if we connect the various cities of Tuscany and Umbria, we have the birth-places, with two exceptions, of all the great masters of Italy. The exceptions are Coreggio and Titian. Coreggio was born in the state of Parma; but this locality was one of the components of northern or circumpadane Etruria, which embraced also Modena, Bologna, and Verona, all celebrated for their works of art. If we exclude the Venetian school, and take the district

bounded on the north by the Po, and having Perugia for its most southern point, including about two degrees, we have in that narrow compass the birth-places of all the great painters of Italy.

An interesting consideration here arises: neither Rome nor Naples can claim a single eminent painter; for the names of Caravaggio, Falconi, and Rosa cannot be mentioned with those of the masters of upper Italy. We find also that the more southern Etrurian states exhibit no evidence of a resuscitation of artistic power; so that the conclusion is suggested, that the influence alluded to was best preserved in districts remote from the immediate inAuence of Rome. The opinion that Italian painting springs from the Etrurian races, is strengthened by the fact, that the countries more properly Latin, or Oscan, have been so singularly deficient as birth-places of art.

A word on the restoration of art, before we conclude. Nothing seems more improbable than the raising of historical painting to its former pitch, yet we must seek to keep the vital spark from being utterly extinguished, and wait till some combination of circumstances, which cannot be foreseen, may induce its third development. Is this to be done by the art unions? We think that it is by them that it may be done, but certainly not under the present system. The mere purchase of pictures, executed by imperfectly educated, and too often illiterate men, can scarcely assist in elevating art. We cannot encourage painting, as we do the mechanical arts, solely by the consumption of the article produced, and the very facility of disposal may even lead to diminished exertion for further improvement. There must be a higher stimulus for the painter than for the mechanician. To the latter, gain is the natural and soughtfor reward; but the painter must be trained to higher longings, and be offered a nobler recompense. His hand and eye may be educated, but if his mind be neglected, he can at best be but a clever copyist. He must be made to feel, that in the exercise of his glorious art, he is to assist in the moral elevation of his species; his mind must be educated, refined, and exalted, and then it will be rare, that the hand and eye will not be the

faithful exponents of the light that is within. We would wish to see our art unions take higher ground; and, without interfering as to their declared intentions, we would desire to see them establishing, on a liberal scale, schools of art in the great capitals of London, Dublin, and Edinburgh, which would be open gratuitously to all comers, which would be supplied with the best models and specimens of the old masters, sent from public and private collections, schools, where the young but needy student would be freely furnished with all the apparatus for drawing, painting, or modelling, and the whole placed under the direction of some eminent artist, who, to a great knowledge of his profession, united an extensive acquaintance with history, and a refined and poetic mind. Can any one doubt, that in this city, such an institution, placed

under the superintendence of a Petrie or a Burton, would be productive of the best results? Funds, too, might be created by the sale of the works of the students, which should be applied to sending them to visit foreign galleries a measure at once a mark of distinction, an incitement to exertion, and calculated still further to advance the student.

But we must take our leave of this subject, and once more express our conviction that the translation of the book of Kügler, recommended as it is by its accuracy, elegant writing, and perfect clearness, will be productive of the best results, and that it should be the companion of every one who has the happiness to visit the great English and foreign galleries, and a guide-book to the student who wishes to educate himself and elevate his profession.

would repay me for all the struggles, the cares, the miseries of fourteen years of exile; and now I stood upon that self-same spot, where I had turned to take a farewell look of my native city, which I was leaving poor, unfriended, and unknown, to seek in Italy those opportunities my forlorn condition had denied to me at home. Years of toil and anxiety had followed: the evils of poverty had fallen on me; one by one, the cheerful thoughts and bright fancies of youth deserted me: yet still I struggled on, unshaken in courage. The thought of one day returning to my loved Saxon land, rich in reputation, crowned with success, had sustained and upheld me. And now! that hour was come-my earliest hopes more than realized-my fondest aspirations accomplished. Triumphant over all the difficulties of my hard lot, I returned, bearing with me the wellwon spoils of labour and exertion. But, alas! where were they who should rejoice with me, and share my happiness? The very home of my infancy was tenanted by strangers: they knew me not in my poverty-they could not sympathize in my elevation. My heart sickened within me as I thought of my lone and desolate condition; and as the tears coursed fast and faster down my cheeks, how gladly would I have given all the proud triumph of success for one short and sunny hour of boyhood's bright anticipation, shared in by those who loved me.

Oh! how well were it for us if the bright visions of happiness our imaginations picture forth, should ever recede as we advance, and, mirage-like, evade us as we follow ! and that we might go down to the grave still thinking that the "morrow" would accomplish the hopes of to-day-as the Indian follows the phantom-barque, ever pursuing, never reaching. The misery of hope deferred never equalled the anguish of expectation gratified, only to ascertain how vain was our prospect of happiness from the longcherished desire, and how far short reality ever falls of the bright colouring hope lends to our imaginings. In such a frame of deep despondency, I re-entered my native city-no friend to greet, no voice to welcome me.

Happily, however, I was not long left to the indulgence of such regrets; for no sooner was my arrival made known

in the city, than my brother artists waited on me with congratulations; and I learned, for the first time, that the reputation of my successes had reached Saxony, and that my very best picture was at that moment being exhibited in the Dresden Gallery. I was now invited to the houses of the great, and even distinguished by marks of my sovereign's favour. If I walked the streets, I heard my name whispered as I passed. If I appeared in public, some burst of approbation greeted me. In a word, and that ere many days had elapsed, I became the reigning favou rite of a city, in which the love of "art" is an inheritance; for, possessed of a gallery second to none in Europe, the Dresdeners have long enjoyed and profited by the opportunity of contemplating all that is excellent in painting; and in their enthusiastic admiration of the fine arts, thought no praise too exalted to bestow on one who had asserted the claim of a Saxon painter among the schools of Italy.

To the full and unmeasured intoxication of the flattery that beset me on every side, I now abandoned myself. At first, indeed, I did so as a relief from the sorrowful and depressing feelings my unfriended solitude suggested; and at last, as the passion crept in upon and grasped my very heart-strings, the love of praise took entire possession of my being, and in a short time the desire for admiration had so completely supplanted every other emotion, that I only lived with enjoyment when surrounded by flattery; and those praises which before I heard with diffidence and distrust, I now looked for as my desert, and claimed as my right. The "spoiled child of fortune," my life was round of gaiety and excitement. For me, and for my amusement, fetes were given, parties contrived, and entertainments planned; and the charmed circle of royalty was even deserted to frequent the places at which I was expected.

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From these circumstances, it may readily be believed how completely I was beset by the temptations of flattery, and how recklessly I hurried along that career of good fortune, which, in my mad infatuation, I deemed would last for ever. I saw my name enrolled among the great ones of my art-myself the friend of the exalted in rank and great in wealth my very