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seemed best suited to their wants and their
success.
The new Association thus entered the field,
not only unaided by wealth and influence,
but beneath the frowns of the old Academy,
richly endowed, numbering nearly all the
chief patrons of the Arts in its ranks, and
liberally aided by the City government. To
this formidable opposition was added that of
a prejudiced community and a bigoted press.
Thus penniless and friendless, they com
menced their career, confident in the wisdom
of their plans and the justice of their claims.
The public gradually admitted both ; the new
Academy proved eminently successful, while
the old establishment declined and soon died,
its properties passing into the possession of
its rival. At this time, its means enabled the
Academy to effect the long-desired object of
erecting an edifice adequate to its wants and
character, and worthy, in architectural beau
ty, of the great metropolis in which the In
stitution is located. Such a structure is now
in progress, and, it is hoped, will be com
pleted in season for the Exhibition of the
ensuing year (1850.)
The unexampled success of the Academy
of Design, has enabled it fully to accomplish
its end, of promoting and protecting the Arts
in this country—first, by the establishment of
an annual exhibition of original pictures, nev
er before exhibited, where artists have been
enabled to study the works of their contem
poraries, and to compare their own labors
with those of all others ; and where, too, the
public have had opportunities to see, enjoy,
and purchase their productions. It has ef
fected its end, secondly, by providing excel
lent free schools for study, both from the an
tique statues and the living model. The An
tique School of the Academy possesses the
largest and finest collection of statuary, casts,
etc., in the Union, and offers equal facilities,
in its departments, with the best institutions
of Europe; while in the Life School are al
ways to be found the best living models which
the country affords. The third feature in the
plan of the Academy, is the institution of an
nual courses of gratuitous lectures, upon Art
and all the themes relating thereto : and ano
ther is the collection of a valuable and ex
tensive Art Library for the use of its mem
bers.
The first exhibition, now more than twen
ty-three years ago, yielded only three hun
dred and fifty dollars, an insufficient sum to
defray expenses. It has since, year by year,
gradually increased, until the annual income
from the Exhibitions now exceed eight thou
sand dollars. The early catalogues display
but a meagre number of pictures, while now,
about four hundred new works in painting
and statuary are annually exhibited to the
public.
In speaking of the successes of the Acade
my. it will not be irrelevant to allude briefly
to those whose labors have had so important
ar. effect upon its fortunes; some of whom,
alas! have already ceased from their toils,
and have passed to a world of higher and
holier art. Chief among these early labor
ers, stands Morse, whose name has since
become more widely known by his magnifi
cent discovery of the Magnetic Telegraph.
He was an active founder and member of the
Academy, and for many years filled its presi
dential chair. Mr. Bryant says of him, in
the oration from which 1 have already made
some extracts: “This great enterprise, (the
establishment of the Academy.) was princi
pally effected by the exertions of one who
has since been lost to Art, though translated,
perhaps, so far as the mere material interests
of society are concerned, to a sphere of great
er usefulness. I may speak of him, there
fore. as an academician, as freely as if he had
departed this life. * * * He possessed,
in a high degree, all the learning and knowl
edge of his Art. .The bent of his genius was
towards historical painting, in which, various
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circumstances —want of encouragement was ;
the principal —prevented him from taking
that rank to which he might otherwise have
raised himself. He was embarrassed some
what by another obstacle; the turn of his
mind was experimental—a quality more for
tunate for a scientific discoverer than for an
artist; and he boldly trusted himself to new
paths, in which, perhaps, he sometimes lost
his way. Yet from time to time he would
astonish the world with glimpses of the great
powers which he possessed, and which only
needed opportunity and steady exercise to
mature them into their due strength and ex
cellence. * I know what is in him, 1 said the
great Allston, in a letter to Dunlap, ‘better,
perhaps, than any one else. If he will only
bring out all that is there, he will show pow
ers that many do not now dream of. 111
Henry Inman, than whom no artist was
more beloved, or whose death, nearly three
years since, has been more deeply lamented,
was another of the founders of the Academy,
and its first Vice President. Bryant again says
of Inman : “ He was a portrait painter of ex
traordinary merit, great facility of pencil, a
pleasing style of color, and a power of happy
selection from the various expressions of
countenance which a sitter brings to the ar
tist. The versatility of his power was sur
prising ; he has left behind him specimens of
landscape, of figures in groups, in repose or
in action, which show that he might have ex
celled in any branch of the art. His view of
Rydal Water, from a spot near the dwelling
of the poet Wordsworth, is a picture of ex
treme beauty, a soft aerial scene, like a dream
of Paradise : the little sheet of water seems
one of the lakes of the Happy Valley, and
the mountains are like hills of fairy land.—
He was not a man to linger long in contem
plation of the objects he would delineate, to
study them till he had exhausted all they
could offer to his observation, and till their
image became incorporated with his mind.—
What he saw, he saw at a glance, and trans
ferred it to the canvass with the same rapidi
ty, and with surprising precision. Ilis works
owe nothing to revision, and possess a cer
tain unlabored grace, which makes us delight
in reverting to them.”
Tn further illustration of this singular ver
satility of Inman’s genius, Mr. Dunlap says,
in his “History of the Arts of Design” : “Mr.
Sully once expressed himself to me in nearly
these words: ‘I remember going round your
Exhibition of the National Academy at Clin
ton Hall, in New York, and seeing a fine
landscape. I asked, ‘Who painted this V —
The answer was, ‘lnman.’ Then I came to
a beautiful group of figures: ‘Ah! this is
very clever: let us see whose this is! 1 I
looked at my catalogue : Inman. Then some
Indians caught my eye ; catalogue again;
Inman. A little further on. and I exclaimed,
‘By George! here is the finest miniature I
have seen for many a day! Who is this
miniature painter V Inman! Ilis large por
traits I was acquainted with, but this variety
of style took me altogether by surprise. l ”
“In miniature painting,” says a brief biog
raphy of the artist, published at the time of
his decease, “the productions of Inman were
considered second only to the works of Mal
bone: but the demand for portraits in large
was so great as to induce him to relinquish
that branch of art to his friend and former
fellow-pupil. Thomas S. Cummings.”
Mr. Tuckerman, in speaking of a visit to
Inman’s studio, says of him—“ Would you
not know him for a man of genius at a
glance ? Ilis air and smile, the lines of men
tal activity in his face, the very fall of his
long hair, would stamp him in a crowd as a
weaver of ‘such stuff as dreams are made of. 1
Ilis countenance has that interest which lies
in expression—an interest far transcending
mere regularity of outline or beauty of fea
ture, because we always associate it with
character. It stems less the offspring of ac
cident, has a more intimate relation with the
soul, and is a characteristic over which time
has no power. An artist of some sort we
could safely aver him to he; whether in the
sphere of language, sound, colors, or marble,
would be a subsequent question. His, how
ever, is no confined ability, but rather the
liberal scope of an intellectual man. He
converses delightfully, recites with peculiar
effect, has a discriminating sympathy for lite
rature, the drama, and ‘the comedy of life, 1
with genial social interests, and a warm ap
preciation of whatever appeals to the imagi
nation, or involves any principles of taste.”
I remember well the deep sorrow which
sat upon the brows of his brother artists, and
hung upon the hearts of the whole communi
ty, when Inman was taken away by the chill
mandate of Death, while yet he was young
in years, buoyant in hope, and strong in ge
nius. Never shall I forget the touching
scene on the occasion of his funeral, when
the coffin was borne silently through the
cold streets, upon the shoulders of his sor
rowing friends; the black pall supported by
the fellow-strugglers of his youth and sharers
of his after triumphs —with the long line of
mourning artists and admirers who followed
him silently to the grave.
Thomas Cole was another distinguished
founder of the Academy, whose life and
works have contributed so much to its suc
cess and renown. The death of this great ar
tist is so recent an event, and is still so much
upon the lips of the public, that there would
seem to be hut little occasion to speak of him
here. It would be difficult, though, to re
frain from some tribute to his exalted worth
and lofty genius, even if the important in
fluence of his career upon the fortunes of the
Academy did not claim such notice. I find
i the following apropos remarks in a review of
the Academy Exhibition of 1848, published
| in the N. V. Evening Post:
“Mortality among artists, during a few
years past, has been deplorably great, both
in this country and in Europe. Many gifted
spirits have passed from among us. At home
we have been called upon to mourn succes
sively at the tomb of Trumbull, Clevenger,
Allston, the Agates, Yerbryck, Inman; and,
within a very short period, Cole, one of our
greatest masters in landscapes, has been cut
off'in the prime of his years, the maturity of
his genius, and the height of the esteem and
hope of his countrymen. The loss of no
other member of the profession has been so
much felt and mourned—such a strong hold
had he taken upon the hearts of men, by the
power of his genius, the graces of his mind,
and the virtues of his life. He has left be
hind him an undying monument in the glo
rious labors of his mighty pencil. The late
collection of his works at the Art-Union, was
doubtless the finest Landscape Gallery—from
one single mind—ever exhibited in the world.
We have never before seen such a rich store
house of art here, and perhaps never will
again. All have left the Gallery—impressed
with a deep conviction of the grandeur of the
artist's mind and the power of his hand—to
return again and again to conceive stiff lof
tier ideas of each. Every artist has felt
proud of. Cole, as he has walked through
those gloriously-decked halls; and every
American thinks the belter of his country
that she can call such a man her son.
VYe have been led to these thoughts by
finding ourself, in our course through the
Academy, before a picture by Cole—the last
which the walls will ever bear. We shall
now, in continuing our review, make a pass
ing notice of this work. ******
Every one will gaze with emotions of sad
ness upon this sketch, as the remembrance
comes that it is the last ray of the great light
which lias so long illumined the waffs. Cole
was an indefatigable student, lie amassed
vast stores of knowledge in his studies of na
ture, which his pure heart and poetic mind
enabled him to use in the loftiest and sweet
est conceptions, lie has given us grand pic
tures of the genius of American landscape.
He has, too, elevated the province and digni
ty of his branch of art, in carrying it beyond
mere portraiture, to a place side by side with
poetry and history; weaving tales of senti
! meat and lessons of high moral and philo
sophical truth.”
But we will recur again to the eloquent
oration of Mr. Bryant upon the life and char
acter of Cole. “He was one of the founders
of the Academy, as well as one of its bright,
est ornaments. During the entire space which
has elapsed since the first of its exhibition*
nearly a quarter of a century, 1 am not sum
that there was a single year in which his
works did not appear upon the walls. Yet
we shall miss them hereafter; that skillful
hand is at rest forever. His departure has
left a vacuity which amazes and alarms
It is as if the voyager on the Hudson were to
look towards the great range of the Catskills
at the foot ot which Cole, with a reverential
fondness, hud lived his abode, and were to
see that the grandest of its summits had dis
appeared, and sunk into the plain from our
sight. * * * * Cole was not only a
great Artist, but a great teacher. The con
templation of his works made men better. *
* * * The paintings of Cole are of that
nature, that it hardly transcends the proper
use of language to call them acts of religion.
* * * * His death was widely lament
ed. How we were startled by the first news
of it, which we refused to believe! It came
so suddenly, when we knew that a few days
before he was in the highest vigor of body
and mind, resolutely laboring on great pro
jects of art, and we looked forward to a
array of years for one who lived so wisely,
and for whom so splendid a destiny on earth
seemed to be ordained.”
Frederick S. Agate was another of the
founders of the Academy. He held, durin<r
his life, the chair of Academician, and was
curator of the Institution. He was an artist
of great ability, and died at an early age, uni
versally lamented by the profession, and by
the community generally.
Besides the great names which l have re
corded, the Academy has followed many oth
ers of its members to the grave; among them,
William Dunlap, who has left behind him
many valuable fruits of Ins untiring labors.
This gentleman was an active member of the
Institution, and he served its interests, and
those of Art and Literature in general, in di
vers ways. A voluminous History of the
Arts of Design in this country, is among his
efforts in the department of letters.
Cornelius Verbryck, one of the younger
Academicians, who died in 1844, will long
be mourned as an artist, not only of the high
est promise, but of the most excellent perform
ance. He was greatly beloved for his unas
suming worth, and for every moral virtue and
social grace which the true artist should pos
sess.
Five of the founders of the Academy are
now living. Professor Morse, of whom 1
have already spoken; John L. Morton, Esq.;
Asher B. Durand, the present distinguished
President of the Institution. Asa man uni
versally esteemed and beloved by his profes
sional brethren, and all whose pleasure it is
to know him, and an artist of the highest
abilities in every department, while in that
of landscape, more particularly, he may be
said, since the death of his only competitor,
Mr. Cole, to stand alone. C. C. Ingham,
Esq., another of the founders of the Acade
my, has for years held, and still holds, the
honored office of Vice President. In the field
of portraiture, he is deservedly eminent; the
careful and beautiful creations of his pencil
being eagerly sought after, and ever forming
one of the most attractive features of the an
nual exhibitions. Professor Cummings, an
other and the last of these five survivors, has
contributed, perhaps, more than any other
member to the success of the Academy, from
the very dawning of its life to the present
day; not only with the labors of his easel,
and the happy prestige of the reputation
which they have won for him, but in bur
thensomeand unremitting cares and toils inci
dent to the business of the establishment, and
more especially in the responsible and
ous duties of Treasurer, which office he has
always efficiently and honorably filled. Pro
; fessor Cummings’ fame as an artist has been