dying Gladiator, the
Antinous, the Flora, and the statue called (I know not on what
authority) the Faun of Praxiteles.

The dying Gladiator is the chief boast of the Capitol. The antiquarian
Nibby insists that this statue represents a Gaul, that the sculpture
is Grecian, that it formed part of a group on a pediment, representing
the vengeance which Apollo took on the Gauls, when, under their king
Brennus, they attacked the temple of Delphi: that the cord round the
neck is a twisted chain, an ornament peculiar to the Gauls; and that
the form of the shield, the bugles, the style of the hair, and the
mustachios, all prove it to be a Gaul. I asked, "why should such
faultless, such exquisite sculpture be thrown away upon a high
pediment? the affecting expression of the countenance, the head 'bowed
low and full of death,' the gradual failure of the strength and
sinking of the form, the blood slowly trickling from his side--how
could any spectator, contemplating it at a vast height, be sensible of
these minute traits--the distinguishing perfections of this matchless
statue?" It was replied, that many of the ancient buildings were so
constructed, that it was possible to ascend and examine the sculpture
above the cornice, and though some statues so placed were unfinished
at the back, (for instance, some of the figures which belonged to the
group of Niobe,) others (and he mentioned the AEgina marbles as an
example) were as highly finished behind as before. I owned myself
unwilling to consider the Gladiator a Gaul, but the reasoning struck
me, and I am too unlearned to weigh the arguments he used, much less
confute them. That the statue being of Grecian marble and Grecian
sculpture must therefore have come from Greece, does not appear a
conclusive argument, since the Romans commonly employed Greek artists:
and as to the rest of the argument,--suppose that in a dozen centuries
hence, the charming statue of Lady Louisa Russell should be discovered
under the ruins of Woburn Abbey, and that by a parity of reasoning,
the production of Chantrey's chisel should be attributed to Italy and
Canova, merely because it is cut from a block of Carrara marble? we
might smile at such a conclusion.

Among the pictures in the gallery of the Capitol, the one most highly
valued pleases me least of all--the Europa of Paul Veronese. The
splendid colouring and copious fancy of this master can never
reconcile me to his strange anomalies in composition,