188 



THE CIVIL ENGINEER AND ARCHITECT'S JOURNAL. 



[June, 



subject, I am induced to add a few words. Teihaps by so doiug I may elicit 

 some further information from some correspondent, who may have the means 

 of continuing the subject on rock excavation and blasting. In the first place 

 I will give what Mr. Booth, of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, says 

 in his pamphlet on the progressive operations of that undertaking. The 

 e.vcavation was about 2,006,000 cul)ic yards : it was removed from a few 

 furlongs to between three anil four miles in length. The excavations at — 



General price per cubic yard. 

 s. d. s. d. 

 Edge Hill ; red sandstone . . . .16 



Olive Mount ; red marl and sandstone, two miles long . 1 to 2 

 Rainhill ; clay, marl, and sandstone . . . 8 „ 1 1 



Kenyon; sand, gravel, and marl . . . 8 ,, 1 



Eccles ; marl and sandstone . . . . 10 „ 1 4 



It i.s unfortunate that the general price only is stated, which I suppose to 

 mean an average lead, and not the standard of per mile. 



On the Great ^Vestern Railway, near Keynsham, the cutting through 

 limestone cost lOrf., Is. 3d., 2s. 5</., and 2s. (id.; but this again was general, 

 the standard for comparison being wanting, or the horsing being mixed with 

 the getting. On the Cromford and High Peak line, through limestone, the 

 excavation cost lOd., also an average of lead. If I may be allowed to hazard 

 an opinion, I think the price of common rock would be for getting only lOd. 

 to Is. On the Glasgow and Paisley line, at Bishopton, the most expensive I 

 ever heard of was through drifliug whin or greenstone. It cost C«. per yard; 

 it was harder even than granite ; and in the Bishopton e.xcavation alone 621 

 tons of gunpowder was used. I have known tunnel work through gypsum 

 and marl cost 2s. per yard for labour only, without risk of water. 

 Rates of tonnage per ton per mile : — 



Stockton and Darlington Railway — Coals and cinders, 2Jd per ton. 

 Cromford and High Peak — coal and coke, Urf. per ton. 

 Brandling .lunction Railway— Slate and tiles, ihd. per ton per miie. 

 Great North of England Railway — timber, Urf. per ton per mile. 

 Hartlepool Railway— coals, IJrf. per ton per mile. 



S/. Ann's, Newcastle-ujmn-Tyne. 0. T. 



ON FRESOO-PAINTING. 



By Joseph Severn, of Rome. 



(Continued from paije 165.^ 



In my former remarks (see ante, p. IGl,) I attempted to explain why En- 

 glish artists would be more likely to excel in the grandeur of historical paint- 

 ing, through the medium of the fresco, rather than the oil material, and 

 that the obstacles were not in our ignorance of that simple medium, but in 

 our defective design, including our artificial and theatrical notions of com- 

 position. I hope now to be able to show, that in those essential points, de- 

 sign and composition, the English school possesses the real groundwork, 

 which, with singular injustice to itself, it rarely or never exercises to its full 

 extent, and which, if it did, there would be a hope of our surpassing all the 

 continental schools of art ; as I think the rare quality, which I am about to 

 explain, is not to be found in so high a degree (if it is to be found at all) in 

 any of them. 



Judging the art of painting, as I do, by its great Italian examples, par- 

 ticularly in fresco, which is its province of freedom and power, I should say 

 that there is a real and individual groundwork applicable and belonging to 

 all the various powers of painting. This groundwork is Nature ; not the 

 perfect nature applicable to sculpture, often mistaken, and much abused in 

 our time, as one and the same — but nature, with more of her imperfections 

 than is generally supposed ; imperfections that are essential to painting, if 

 character and expression, or in a word if life be the object. No doubt 

 sculpture, and the beautiful antique figures particularly, have somewhat 

 blinded us as regards painting ; and I cannot but think, that if it were the 

 good fortune of modern times to turn up an antique picture of high Grecian 

 art, even by Apelles or Zeuxis, we should find it entirely different to their 

 sculpture in design and composition, as well as in everything else, for such 

 is the case in the inferior examples at Pompeii and Herculaneum, wherein 

 the principles I am anxious to explain are always found. 



Sculpture exists in the perfection of form, whatever that form may be, and 

 it must be selected from various examples ; for it is rare indeed to find per- 

 fect form in one individual model, as adapted to sculpture ; and this can be 

 easily understood when it is considered, that sculpture presents nothing but 



abstract form to the eye. But painting, on the contrary, imitates nature in 

 all her infinite variety ; and in this universal imitation an obvious distinction 

 is to be made, not only as to the means of the art, but tlie mode by which 

 the painter attains his object. Historical painting, in including the diver- 

 sities of complexions and customs of the people of different nations and ages, 

 is obliged to include much that is ugly and unseemly, as well as much that 

 is imperfect in form ; for the painting art rests on its powers of representing 

 character and expression with all the life and vigour it is capable of; aud 

 forms and things which would be vulgar, mean, and even incompatible with 

 the abstract and limited power of sculpture, are obliged to be taken with all 

 their imperfections by the painter, for they assist the pictorial and mental 

 powers of his art. I am induced to dwell on this nice distinction, because, 

 with reference to fresco-painting, I know that many persons suppose that 

 the " good drawing," talked of as necessary, means the sculptural perfection 

 of form I have been speaking of, and which, as applied to painting, carries 

 with it the impression of insipidity and weakness, and seems to exclude the 

 representation of vigorous character and living expression, which most of us 

 feel to belong to painting. But sculpture, aud scidptural perfection, as ap- 

 plied indiscriminately to painting, has helped to tame it down to a classic 

 imbecility, if I may so call it, where the spirit of expression is driven to dwell 

 in the extravagance and unnaturalness of academical and theatrical attitudes. 

 When character and expression are not allowed to exist in form, then there 

 is nothing left for them but attitude. This, I conceive, will explain at once 

 the vast difference which is manifest between tlie quiet aud natural manner 

 in which the great Italian painters represented history, and that of the mo- 

 dern French, who have attempted to affect us in their historical painting by 

 every species of action and extravagance, though always with the perfect 

 forms and the drawing of sculpture. Their theory was to give perfection to 

 painting, by imitating the perfection of antique sculpture ; and they succeeded 

 in introducing an original style, but from which we turn with displeasure, 

 and sometimes disgust, to dwell on the repose and simplicity of the Itahau 

 masters, who, although accused of every kind of defect, we return to, and 

 love even for their defects, because they are natural, and because painting 

 assumes to be the universal language of nature. The French, in imitating 

 the antique, have thought it expedient to give Apollo forms, more or less, to 

 all their figures— to pare away every imperfection of humanity, whether it be 

 in gods or heroes, or even in common men ; aud hence they have excluded 

 character and expression, save in violence of attitude. This is the sad change 

 which many English people falsely anticipate is to be brought about by fresco- 

 painting ; and this is the mistake which I am anxious to correct, in advo- 

 cating the cause of fresco-painting. 



Who will be so bold as to say, that perfect and select form is essential to 

 painting, when, in the finest examples of Eaffaello, Domenichino, and all the 

 other great Italians, we find in every figure some example of the imperfections 

 of nature purposely introduced — I say purposely, as there is no other rational 

 way of accounting for the fact, but that they did it on principle. The an- 

 tique figures were before their eyes, even more vividly than they are before 

 ours : they were dug up in their time, and must have appeared more wonder- 

 ful from their novelty ; consequently, the Italian painters must have had the 

 same temptation to take or leave them as we have, and they did take them, 

 but in part only, and SO far as they helped to develop the true and distinctive 

 characters of painting. The French take them entire, and the English never 

 take them at all. We can find, for example, in the figure of Heliodorus, by 

 Raffaello, something of the grand form of the lUissus (in the Elgin marbles), 

 but we find nothing of the antique in the terrible scourging angels, who 

 strike him down with such energv' and life. Now, who can say that if the 

 imperfection of forms which are found in those angels were taken away, it 

 would not leave somewhat of tameness and insipidity .' or why, if we are 

 struck by the terrible fury which Raffaello has given these figures, should we 

 not infer that it exists even in the ruggedness of their forms ? 



I can well remember the shame and surprise I felt on first going to draw 

 in a foreign academy, at Rome — where every artist, even the beginners, pro- 

 duced such beautiful forms. But the fascination was soon dispelled ; for 

 week after week diflferent models of different ages and characters were 

 brought before us, from the young and gentle, to the strong and muscular, 

 and these artists I found made them all alike. The different characters were 

 so refined and idealized, that it seemed to me I was no longer in the province 

 of Painting, but in the ideal world of Sculpture. Young as I was, I might 

 blindly have concluded that these artists were in the right, had there not 

 been all those immortal fresco works around me with which Rome abounds, 

 and which convinced me of the modern error, and in the inspiration of which 

 works I venture humbly to oflfer these explauatioDS. 



