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consulted bim, more than once referred the choice of artists to him for the execution of great undertakings. It is to the protection and countenance of Count Caylus, that BOUCHARDON, that immortal sculptor, whose name will, in future times, accompany that of Phidias and Praxiteles, was indebted for the noblest opportunities of displaying his talents. It is to Count Caylus that the city of Paris is indebted for those master-pieces of art, which are two of its noblest ornaments, viz. the equestrian ftatue of the King, and the fountain in the Rue de Grenelle, To the recommendation of Count Caylus our Academy is indebted for the best designer in Europe. . .'
He shunned honours, but was desirous of being admitted into the number of the honorary members of this Academy: he entered into it in 1942, and then it was that he seemed to have found the place which Nature designed for bim. The study of literature now became his ruling passion ; to it he confecrated his time and his fortune; he even renounced his pleasures, to give himself wholly up to that of making some discovery in the vast field of antiquity. But he confined himself generally to the sphere of the arts. In consequence of his researches, we know how the Egyptians embalmed their mummies, and converted the papyrus into leaves fit for receiving writing.' He shews us how that patient and indefatigable people laboured for years at rocks of granite : we see the moft enormous masses floating along the Nile for hundreds of leagues, and, by the efforts of an art almost as powerful as nature, advancing by land to the place destined for their reception. His knowledge of drawing enabled him to explain many passages in Pliny, which were obscure to those who were unacquainted with that art. He has developed, in several memoirs, those expressive and profound strokes, which that wonderful Author has employed, with an energetic brevity, to paint the talents of celebrated painters and fculptors. He does more; he carries us, if I may be allowed the expression, into the work-shops of the ancients, and he makes the Grecian artists labour under our eye. In Pausanias he found the pencil of Polygnotus, and the composition of thofe famous pieces of painting wherewith that illuftrious artist decorated the portico of Delphos. He rebuilt the theatre of Curio, and, under the direction of Pliny, shewed again that astonishing machine, and presented us with the view of the whole Roman people moving round upon a pivot. The rival of the moft celebrated' architects of Greece, without any other assistance than a passage of the same Pliny, he ventured to build anew the magnificent tomb of Mausolus, and to give to that wonder of the world its original ornaments and proportions. • But nothing seemed more flattering to him than his discovery of encaustic painting. A description of Pliny's, but too concise a
one, to give him a clear view of the matter, suggested the idea of it. He availed himself of the friendship and skill of M. Majault, a physician in Paris, and an excellent chemist; and, by repeated experiments, found out the secret of incorporating wax with different tints and colours, of making it obedient to the pencil, and thus rendering paintings immortal *.
Thus it was that, in the hands of Count Caylus, literature and the arts lent each other their mutual aid. But it would be endless to give a particular account of all his dissertations that are published in our Memoirs; they are upwards of forty. Never was there an academician more zealous for the honour of the Society to which he belonged. The artists he was particularly attentive to; and to prevent their falling into mistakes, from an ignorance of costume, which the ablest of them have sometimes done, he founded a prize of five hundred livres, the object of which is to explain, by means of authors and monuments, the usages of ancient nations. "
* Pliny mentions two kinds of encaustic painting, practised by the ancients; one of which was performed with wax, and the other was done upon ivory, with hot punches of iron. That kind of painting with wax, Count Caylus had the merit of reviving. M. Müntz afterward made many experiments to bring this art to perfection, and wrote a book upon it, of which we gave an account in the 22d volume of our Review; but we believe, through some difficulties in the execution, it has not yet been much used: although the properties attributed to it by the Abbé Mazeas, in a Letter to the Royal Society, are such as could not fail to make it appear of great value to so excellent a connoilleur as Count Caylus.
The Abbé says, the colours have not that natural varnish, or Mining, which they acquire with oil; but you are capable of seeing the picture in any light, or in whatever situation you place it: in fhors, that there can be no false glare or light upon the picture, for the spectator : the colours are secured, are strong, and will bear washing.' And after being smoaked, and then exposed to the dew, he adds, sa picture becomes as clean as if it had been but just painted.
These are, doubtless, the grand defiderata of painting, with respect to colours; and all these excellent properties belong to a much higher fpecies of encaustic painting lately discovered in England, the colours of which, as we are informed, are fixed by a very intense heat, much stronger than that used by the enamel painters; and neither the colours, nor the grounds upon which they are laid, are liable to be diffolved or corroded by any chemical menitruum, Or, like the glasly colours of enamel, to run out of drawing, in the fire :-properties that raise this species of encaustic painting far above all others hitherto discovered.
Although Pliny does not mention them, it is evident, from nu. merous monuments, that this last-mentioned kind of encaustic painting, and enamel painting, were both, in some degree, known to the ancients. * Nn2
With this view it was that he collected, at a very great ex. pence, antiquitits of every kind. Nothing that was ancient seemed indifferent to him. Gods and reptiles, the richest me. tals, the moit beautiful marble monuments, pieces of glass, fragments of earthen vases, in a word, every thing found a place in his cabinet. The entry to his house had the air and appearance of ancient Egypt; the firft object that presented itself was a fine Egyptian itatue, of five feet five inches: the faircase was adorned with medallions and curiosities from China and America. In his apartment for antiques, he was feen fur. rounded with gods, priests, Egyptian magistrates, Etruscans, Greeks, and Romans, with some Gaulic figures that seemed alhamed to thew themselves. When he wanted room he sent his whole colony to the Royal Depository for Antiques, and in a very little time his apartment was filled with new inhabitants, who Aocked to him from different nations. This happened twice during his life ; and the third collection, in the midt of which he ended his days, was, hy his orders, carried, after his death, to the same Depository.
This curiosity, in many instances fatal to private fortunes, was always proportioned to his income, and never burdensome to his friends. His name, which was known in every country where letters are respected, procured him a great number of coro respondents. All the antiquaries, those who thought themselves such, thole who were desirous of being thought such, were ambitious of corresponding with him ; they Aattered themselves they were entitled to the character of learned men, when they could shew a letter from Count Caylus; c'etoit pour eux (says the Author of the Eloze) un brevet d'antiquaire, · His literary talents were embellished with an inexhauftible fund of natural goodnels, an inviolable zeal for the honour of his prince and the welfare of his country, an unaffected and genuine politeness, rigorcus probity, a generous disdain of flatterers, the warmest compassion for the wretched and indigent, the greatest fimplicity of character, and sensibility of friend Ihip
The strength of his conftitution seemed to flatter our hopes of his continuing many years longer among us, but in the month of July 1764, a humour settled in one of his legs, which entirely destroyed his health. He bore some very painful operations with great courage and patience. Whilft he was obliged to keep his bed, he seemed less affected with what he suffered than with the restraint upon his natural activity. When the wound was closed, he relumed his usual occupations with great eagerness, visited his friends, and animated the labours of the artills, whilst he himself was dying. Carried in the arms of bis domeftics, he seemed to leave a portion of his life in every place he went to. How oft have we seen him at our meetings in this condition? How oft have we trembled left he should
expire in the midst of us ? When an universal languor had condemned him to his bed, he tore himself from it whenever the Academy met, and, in spite of the entreaties of his friends, the tears of his domeftics, in spite of Nature hersef, who refused to second his efforts, infifted upon being carried to us. He expired on the fifth of September 1765: by his death his family is ex. tinct, and the Academy, the arts, and the literary world, have lost their warmelt, their most active friend, and their moft zealous benefactor.'
The rest of the articles in the volume before us, must be referred to future consideration.
Voltaire. Vols. IV. and V. xvo. 171.
I celebrated Dictionary of the Encyc'opædia ; but they only take in the letters C, D, and E, so that by a proper economy of the more pregnant parts of the alpbaber, the criticisins on the Encyclopædia may polsibly swell to the size of the work itself*. The ftrictures, however, cannot, in general, he said to be impertinently prolix. They are frequently acure, and sometimes well founded; but they often betray an unaccountable ignorance of what is confidently allerted upon knowledge. For instance, on the the word CLERK, the critic lays, that, by the laws of England, no thief, who has committed a robbery not exceeding the value of five hundred pound sterling, can be refused his pardon if he can read. Were the now exploded Benefic of Clergy to extend thus far, the sons of Tyburn would have fine times !
It is curious to observe wiih what easy assurance the critic introduces this idle assertion. " We have remarked, says he, more than once, that the ancient customs, exploded every where elle, are still to be found in England, as the Mysteries of Orpheus were found in the Isle of Samothrace' Now this, too, is an egregious misrepresentation ; for, perhaps, no people in the world are far her removed from a supersticious reverence for ancient customs than the English in genéral : but those, who are ignorant of our laws, are not likely to be well acquainted with our manners.
Speaking of the influences of climate on religion (for religion, with this Author, is handled on every occasion, and, Jike Jobson's wife, is to receive the strappado though only the cock crows) the critic says, “ There are people on whom neither
* This observation was made before we saw a subsequent continuation of thefe Queftions, in which the Author has made quicker expedition through the interior parts oi this great work.
climate nor government have had any influence with respect to determining their religious opinions. What was it, continues he, that detached the north of Germany, Denmark, three parts of Switzerland, Holland, England, Scotland, and Ireland from the communion of the Romish church? --Poverty! Indulgences and deliverance from purgatory were sold too high to the poor souls, whole bodies had but little money in their pockets. The prelates and the monks devoured the whole provincial revenues. The people, therefore, took up a cheaper religion.
This logic would disgrace even the rawest soph in Cam. bridge. It is well known, that the purchase of present indulgences and purgatorial exemptions is, and ever was, 2 voluntary thing among the Romanifts. The cause of the reformation could not therefore be poverty. What does this Author think of the principles of such imen as the virtuous Lord Cobham ? - Men who sacrificed their lives to the liberty and redemption of opinion! It is surely worth while to obviate this scandalous assertion, that poverty was the primary cause of establishing the reformation in this kingdom. To do this, we need only look back to the fourteenth century, a century which seems to have produced a new, and a nobler race of men! Their immediate ancestors struggled for political liberty, and obtained it; but they contended for an object ftill more important,-for the liberty of the mind. Superior to every na. tural fear, they fought, under the most desperate disadvantages, for justice, for honour, for the independency of their country; but superior, too, to every moral fear, they took arms under tbe banners of Reason for the privileges it affigned them.
Those privileges, indeed, were great. The most deplorable degree of lavery is the subjection of opinion. If a man is not permitted to think for himself, he surely suffers a worse imprifonment than the mere Toss of personal liberty. That loss may be incurred by natural evils, by pain, or accident, or the infira mities of age ; and what nature has made us liable to fuffer, The has taught us to sustain." But that we should forfeit the free exercise of reason, was never her intention ; and for this she has not left us a resource, even in patience. Conscious of this, it was the policy of those who made a property of the mind, to encourage a profound and universal ignorance. They knew, that to awaken thought by any species of learning, would be to disarm their own power. The treasures of knowledge, therefore, and those thining stores of genius and moral truth, the writings of antiquity, they secreted in their cells. The ecclefiaftics had two motives for this conduct. That liberal philosophic spirit, that freedom of enquiry and exertion of reaTon, which breathed through many of the ancient writers, they foresaw would be very inauspicious to the absurdity of their