Fuseli felt this disappointment of his hopes, and in a letter to Mr. Roscoe says, "I am convinced that of all the lies Nero told, that in which he asserts art was supported by all the earth, was the most atrocious; and although _laudatur et alget_ seems to be intended for my motto, and though despondence often invades my pillow, yet my head and hand still keep on steady in the prosecution of my great work. May the hope which carries me on, not prove delusive." The monotony of painting from one author, however, was in a degree broken by the variety of subjects which Milton's poetical works afford, for he could at will turn "from grave to gay:" this transition, Fuseli often acknowledged, afforded him considerable relief and pleasure. In the year 1793, the Rev. R. A. Bromley, rector of St. Mildred's in the Poultry, issued proposals for publishing by subscription, two large quarto volumes of "A Philosophical and Critical History of the Fine Arts, more especially Painting;" and at the instance of Mr. West, the Royal Academy subscribed for a copy. The first volume appeared early in 1794, and the author, after having discussed and criticised the works of Michael Angelo and Raphael, thus expresses himself:--"The dignity of moral instruction is degraded whenever the pencil is employed on frivolous, whimsical, and unmeaning subjects. On this head, it is to be feared, there ever will be too much cause for complaint, because there ever will be persons incapable of solidity, although very capable of executing this art with power: strength of understanding, and ability in art or science, are very different things; they are derived from different sources, and they are perfectly independent of each other. The one can no more be instrumental to the communication of the other, than either can communicate temper or disposition. The finest art in the world may therefore be combined with the lightest and most superficial mind. Books are written of a light and fantastic nature by those who cannot write otherwise, and yet will write something. And so it is with painting; the mind of the artist can but give such subjects as are consecutaneous to its turn.--_The Nightmare_, _Little Red Ridinghood_, _The Shepherd's Dream_, or any dream that is not marked in authentic history as combined with the important dispensations of Providence, and many other pieces of a visionary and fanciful nature, are speculations of as exalted a stretch in the contemplation of such a mind, as the finest lessons as were ever drawn from religion, or morals, or useful history; and yet the painter who should employ his time on such subjects, would certainly amuse the intelligent no more than the man who should make those subjects the topics of a serious discourse. But what good has the world, or what honour has the art, at any time derived from such light and fantastical speculations? If it be right to follow Nature, there is nothing of her here,--all that is presented to us is a