conversation, and Fuseli and Lavater had the courage to write a pamphlet conjointly, which compelled the superior authorities to take cognisance of a glaring insult upon the purity of justice. The offender fled from investigation, but an enmity was excited against the zealous students, which so greatly annoyed them, that they found it prudent to leave the University with a degree of A. M., and proceed first to Vienna, and then to Berlin, where they studied awhile under Professor Sulzer, and learned to speak English.

At this period Klopstock, Wieland, and others, were enjoying a brilliant sunshine of poetical reputation, which is said to have inspired the vivid Fuseli with a spirit of emulation, the fruits of which, though fondly cultivated to a late period of his life, are but little known, as they were always confined to the numbers of his native tongue. When eighteen, he made a tour through the German states, in company with Lavater, whose discernment was signally exercised upon his school-fellow. When the moment of their separation arrived, he put a slip of paper, beautifully framed and glazed, into Fuseli's hand, and warmly pressing it, exclaimed-" Hang that up in your bedroom, my dear friend, and I know what will be the result." That result was, indeed, a happy one in every respect: Fuseli, in the issue, became a man of fame, and continued the friend of Lavater while life gave them a link by which to hold together. The inscription, however, on this piece of paper must not be forgotten : "Do but the third part of what you can do."

it was

Before he was yet of age, and still undecided in a pursuit, Fuseli was fortunate enough to obtain an introduction to Sir Robert Smith, then British Ambassador at the Court of Berlin, who noticed the talents of the doubtful student, and recommended him to establish himself in London, as a literary agent between Germany and England. Encouraged by the prospects thus opened to him, he came over to this country in 1762, and after acting as tutor to a nobleman's son, secured an intimacy with many of the most distinguished men in arts and literature. Amongst this number was Sir Joshua Reynolds, who soon penetrated the bent of his inherent vigour, and, in all probability, fixed it firmly in the mould for, on one occasion, when, as he used to tell the story himself, Fuseli was still speculating upon the great question of a

livelihood, he took some drawings to Sir Joshua, and candidly *sked him whether he thought the hand that sketched them had any chance of success as an artist. The President, it seems, was much struck with the conception and power they displayed, for he emphatically replied, "Young man, were I the author of these drawings, and offered ten thousand a year not to practise as an artist, I would reject the temptation with contempt." It is to be observed that Fuseli had previously attracted notice as an author, by publishing Reflexions on the Painting and Sculpture of the Greeks,' and a defence of Rousseau against the attack of Voltaire.

Being now resolved to devote his whole time to painting, he offered to the public his first picture, Joseph interpreting the Dreams of the chief Butler and Baker.' The better to accomplish himself for success, he set out on a journey to Italy in 1770, with Dr. Armstrong, the poet, whom he had intimately known for some time previous. Driven ashore by the fury of a tempest at Genoa, the votaries of the twin sisters proceeded directly to Rome, where Fuseli commenced that acquaintance with the great works of Michael Angelo, which at a first review struck so deep an impression upon his mind, and continued ever after to fill him with the enthusiasm of admiration. The contrast between this preference and that of his contemporary West, is peculiarly distinctive of the genius of the two men. West at first was disappointed with Raphael, and, though he soon reverted to a proper estimate of that superior master's excellence, always undervalued his rival. Fuseli's performances soon began to rise into high repute: he protracted his residence at Rome to the length of seven or eight years; had Canova for his associate; was chosen a member of the Academy of St. Luke; and amongst other happy efforts, sent his dipus,' 'Death of Cardinal Beaufort,' and 'a Scene from Macbeth,' over to this country for exhibition.

In 1778 he returned to England, reputed the first connoisseur in the art amongst us, and with no rival in his own province, historical painting, but West. This was an extraordinary eminence, and he was far from remissive to maintain it by his works. Between 1790 and 1800, when he became a Royal Academician, he suggested to Alderman Boydell, and completed

his Milton Gallery, a series of forty-seven paintings of pieces taken from the sublime poet of Paradise Lost. They were exhibited collectively, and viewed with the most honourable admiration; for every subject amongst them struck with merits peculiarly distinctive, while some possessed beauties of an order decidedly superior to the general character of the collection. In this latter class the 'Lazar-House' was foremost; indeed, by many, and those unquestionably competent judges, it was placed chief of the gallery. It is remarkable for great delicacy of conception; the description of the poet is sickening in the extreme, and yet the delineation of the painter is in no degree whatever offensive. On the contrary, the strongest and most moving maladies are preserved; but they look more like those of the mind than the body. This piece the artist never could be induced to part with; he kept it by him until he died; and it has been confidently said that it deserved the preference of preservation even by him.

The subjects which he painted for the Shakspeare Gallery, which was another suggestion entirely his own, also deserve especial commendation. Of these, Shakspeare's Nursery is an interesting composition, of which it has been well said, that it would require a Shakspeare to describe it; for there are given Falstaff and Macbeth's Queen starting almost declamatory from the canvass. But the Ghost of Hamlet, in merit of conception at least, would seem to have been the grandest work of the series: of it a critic has observed, that it ought never to be spoken of without admiration, for it never can be forgotten while the art survives. But, though elevated thus high in reputation, Fuseli now began to feel the extreme rudeness of professional jealousy. He was described as extravagant and overstraining; and one too particular and fastidious in what all the artists of the day most wanted-anatomical fineness. Some would even have damned with faint praise the aspirations of a mind which they were pleased to characterize as more eccentrically vigorous than classically refined.

In 1798, Barry seceded from the Professorship of Painting at Somerset House, and Opie waved his pretensions to succeed to the vacant chair in favour of Fuseli, who, in 1804, was made Keeper of the Academy, when Opie obtained the honour of

the lectureship on Painting. Upon the demise of the latter, in 1809, the two offices were jointly entrusted to Fuseli, notwithstanding an existing order in the constitution of this liberal body, that no person should be allowed to enjoy more than one appointment at a time. Fuseli's Course of Lectures on Painting was begun in 1801, and a volume of them published during the lapse of the same year. They do not contain either the beauties of language, or philosophy of observation, which made the similar productions of Sir Joshua Reynolds so popular; neither had they the strong force of originality which rendered his rival Opie so conspicuous; but they effected certain good in the criticism. they fearlessly entered into upon the performances of his contemporaries. It was out of resentment for those strictures, in all probability, that the charge of fastidiousness and affected sublimity was so formidably retorted against the author. That the censure was not in some degree reasonably provoked, no one can safely deny; but that it was neither fairly urged nor laudably repeated, every friend to the art must regret. Fuseli is also known by a work which he translated from the German of Winckelmann, entitled, 'An Essay on Grace in the Works of Art.' To this he added, in 1805, a corrected edition of Pilkington's Lives of the Painters. Of these performances, one and all, it may suffice to observe that they attracted considerable attention from the literary world at the period of their first appearance; that they cannot be read without benefit to the student and interest to the connoisseur; and that they are generally considered equal, if not better compositions than any artist has produced since the Lectures of Sir Joshua Reynolds.

Fuseli was always indefatigable, and yet always enjoyed excellent health, a blessing which probably resulted from a system of exemplary temperance and regularity in which he lived. He was ever an early riser; and, whether in town or in country, during summer or winter was seldom in bed at five o'clock in the morning. He married, but left no child, and bequeathed all he possessed to his wife, whom he loved with unaltered devotion, and with whom he shared great domestic felicity. Such were the happy circumstances which contributed towards the great age to which he survived. He painted almost down to the day of his death, which took place while on a visit at the house of the

Countess of Guilford, at Putney Hill, on the 16th of May, 1825. His body lay in state in the Gallery of the Royal Academy, and was interred close by the relics of Sir Joshua Reynolds with the usual marks of sorrow and respect. The President, Council, and Members of the Royal Academy, of which he was for upwards of twenty years so eminent an officer, headed a train of mourners to his grave, which was augmented by a number of the nobility, who were his patrons, and the most distinguished public characters, who ranked either as his admirers or his

friends.

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