s a compendious history of modern
art; commencing with Massaccio. If religion gave the impulse to both
ancient and modern, so has it stamped each with the different characters
itself assumed. The conceptions the ancients had of divinity, were the
perfection of the human form; thus form and beauty became godlike. The
Christian religion wore a more spiritual character. In ancient art,
human form and beauty were triumphant; in modern art, the greater
triumph was in humility, in suffering; the religious inspiration was to
be shown in its influence in actions less calculated to display the
powers, the energies of form, than those of mind. Mere external beauty
had its accompanying vices; and it was compelled to lower its
pretensions considerably, submit to correction, and take a more
subordinate part. Thus, if art lost in form it gained in expression, and
thus was really more divine. Art in its revival, passing through the
barbarity of Gothic adventurers, not unencumbered with senseless
superstitions, yet with wondrous rapidity, raised itself to the noblest
conceptions of both purity and magnificence. Sculpture had, indeed,
preceded painting in the works of Ghiberti Donato and Philippo
Brunelleschi, when Massaccio appeared. "He first perceived that parts
are to constitute a whole; that composition ought to have a centre;
expression, truth; and execution, unity. His line deserves attention,
though his subjects led him not to investigation of form, and the
shortness of his life forbade his extending those elements, which
Raffaelle, nearly a century afterwards, carried to perfection." That
great master of expression did not disdain to borrow from him--as is
seen in the figure of "St Paul preaching at Athens," and that of "Adam
expelled from Paradise." Andrea Mantegna attempted to improve upon
Massaccio, by adding form from study of the antique. Mr Fuseli considers
his "taste too crude, his fancy too grotesque, and his comprehension too
weak, to advert from the parts that remained to the whole that inspired
them; hence, in his figures of dignity or beauty, we see not only the
meagre forms of common models, but even their defects tacked to ideal
torsos." We think, however, he is deserving of more praise than the
lecturer was disposed to bestow upon him, and that his "triumphs," the
processions, (at Hampton Court,) are not quite justly called "a copious
inventory of classic lumber, swept together with more industry than
taste, but f