ELEMENTS OF ART CRITICISM COMPRISING A TREATISE ON THE PRINCIPLES OF MAN'S NATURE AS ADDRESSED BY ART TOGETHER WITH A ISSTORIC SURVEY OF THE METHODS OF ART EXECUTION IN THE DEPARTMENTS OF DRAWING, SCULPTURE, ARCHITECTURE, PAINTING, LAND SCAPE GARDENING, AND THE DECORATIVE ARTS. DESIGMNED AS A Text Book for Schools and Colleges, AND AS A HAND-BOOK FOR AMATEURS AND ARTISTS. A4BRIDGED EDITION. BY G: W. SON, D.D., PRESIDENT OF COLUMBIAN COLLEGE, WASHINGTON, D. U. PHILADELPHIA J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1874 : i I! I *,'. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by G. W. SAMSON, D.D., In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the District of Columbia. )b INTRODUCTION. THE following treatise on Art Criticism, ani abridged edi tion of the larger work published one year ago, is specially designed to meet a demand whose existence has now been called forth. The aim of both is to awaken, to foster and to aid the growing aspiration of American students and amateurs in art. The Introduction to the larger work indicates the lack in American education which creates this demand, the methods by which teachers in other lands and ages have supplied this common asthetic need, and the nature and ground of the author's attempt. The conviction is general that a compendious elementary treatise on the principles of design anD e methods of execution in the fine arts is a special desideratum in American literature. The general education of American youth, male and female, the aspiration of men i n every pursuit to fit themselves for cultured society, the growing fondness for foreign travel, have awakened a desire for compendious information as to the great world of art. The limited time given to general education, and the brief leisure of business men, have created in the United States a demand for text 3 ?)' i -Il b26 INTRODUCTION. books in science rudimentary in principle and elementary in illustration; while in Europe, alike in England, Germany and France, there has been a corresponding call for condensed descriptive hand-books adapted to the traveling community. To supply both these needs, akin to each other as they are, has been the author's aim. The larger work presents the comprehensive statement of principles and the compendious abstract of history essential to the teacher and artist; while it adds citations from authorities ancient and modern for the purpose of confirmation and illustration. The abridged edition omits no important principle and passes by no important field of history; but it leaves to the teacher, with the aid of the fuller work and his own collateral study, to fill up the outline. To the abridged edition a few pages of outline illustrations, especially in architecture, are added for pupils. Teachers will naturally provide themselves with large drawings taken from numerous works at command. The thorough student can now obtain also stereoscopic views of every important work in, sculpture and architecture, and photographic copies of the gems of every European gallery of paintings; which, with suitable magnifying lenses, will introduce him to the s!cts of almost every section in the treatise now offered to the public. 4 CONTENTS. BOOK I. MAN'S NATURE AND RELATIONS TO THE WORLD AS AFFECTED BY ART. CHAPTER L GENERAL VIEW OF THE CONSTITUTION OF MAN AS DESIGNED TO BE ADDRESSED BY ARY. PAOE ctSion First.-The world without us as made for the enjoyment and the employ ment of art sensibility................................................................................. 22 &dion Saond.-The nature within us to which art appeals.................................... 23 iction Third.-The bodily organs through which art addresses the human mind..... 23 ctin Fourth.-The methods by which artists make their addresses to human sen sibilities................................................................... 25 Action P/fth.-The classification of the fine arts in accordance heir modes of appeaL....................................................................................................... 27 CHAPTER IL THE LOWER SENSES INDIRECTLY CONTRIBUTING TO THE IXPRESSIONS MADE BY ART. tion First.-The general relation of the lower senses to the appeals of art....... &ction cond.-The impressions of the sense of smell in its relation to art............. Setion Third.-The impressions of the sense of taste in its relation to art............... Section Fourth.-The impressions of the sense of touch, and its relation to art......... Section Fifth.-The impressions of muscular tension in their relation to art............ &ection Sixth.-The impressions of nervous stimulation in their relation to art........ CHAPTER IIL THE IMPRESSIONS OF THE HIGHER SENSE OF HEARING AS ADDRESSED BY ART. &dtion First.-Melody; the nature of sounds called musical, and the modes in which by toe voice anid by instruments they are produced............................... 44 1 # 5 i 29 31 32 34 37 41 CONTENTS. PAOR &ction &cond.-Symphony; the consonance of musical sounds, the laws of accord developed by Pythagoras, and the concert of differing voices ill producing ac cordant tones.............................................................................................. 46 ection Third.-Harmnony; the three scales of muIsical tones on which it is fisunded; the delicate shades of tone and the tempering of musical instruments by which its highest effects are secured........................................................................ 51 Sction Fourth.-Musical Composition; the impressions on the sensibilities sought by music; the modes of writing music; the major and minor chords and their testhetic effects; the keys and ruling notes in musical composition................... 53 &ection Fifth.-Musical Expression; the adaptation of musical strains to the expres sion of poetic composition, and the classes of sentimnent to whose expression music is adequate........................................................................................ 56 &ection Sixth.-Musical Modulation; the general relation of music to pitch and ca dence of voice; and its special relation to the enunciation of dramatic composi tion in histrionic art and of didactic composition in oratory............................. 59 CHIAPTER IV. THE SENSE OF SIGHT, THE HIGHEST OP THE SENSES, AS ADDRESSED BY ART. &ditn First.-Form; its principles and their concurrence as the groundwork of art. ,"tion Second.-Color; its elements, and their cooperation as the accessories of art. Section 7Third.-Fixed Reiation; the association of objects presented as at rest......... tion Fourth.-Changing Relation; the disposition of objects represented as in motion....................................................................................................... ection Fifth.-Physical Coincidence; the law of hlarnionious proportion between tones pleasing to the ear and forms and colors agreeable to the eye.................. ection Sixth.-Moral Correspondence; the harmony between objects presented and ideas represented in art................................................................................ CHAPTER V. THE FACULTIES OF THE HUMAN MIND AS AFFECTED BY ART. , ion First.-Beauty in the Abstract; or the nature of our idea of the beautiful..... 77 Sdction Second.-Taste; or the power of the mind which gives origin to the idea of the beautiful............................................................................................... 79 &ction Third.-Beauty in the Concrete; or the elements in objects which give the impression of beauty.................................................................................... 81 &ection Fourth.-Asthetic Judgment; the process of the mind by which we decide that an object is beautiful............................................................................ 85 ection Fifth.-Comparative Taste; the varied development of the idea of beauty among men; its probable absence in beings inferior, and its possible perfection in beings superior to man............................................................................. 87 CIIAPTER VI. TIE CLASSES OF IMPRESSIONS PRODUCED ON MAN BY WORKS OF ART. &ction First.-Classification of Mental Sensibilities: and designation of imipressions properly aesthetic, or capable of being addressed by art.................................... 89 6 61 65 68 70 71 74 CONTENTS. PAGE &ctiom &cond.-The Beautiful proper and Ideas allied; as the delicate, the exquisite, the fair, the brilliant, the graceful, the pretty; in which beauty of substance, form, color, lustre, motion and expression severally predominate...................... 91 ,ection Third.-The Grand; beauty united to massiveness; and the associated ideas, the noble, tile elegant, the superb, the magnificent, the sublime, the majestic; in which the elements of substance, form, color, lustre, motion and moral dig nity are severally predominant..................................................................... 93 Section Fourth.-The Novel, the surprise at newness auxiliary to the emotion of beauty; and the Picturesque, an effect from grouping allied to grandeur........... 95 Section Fifth.-The Comic, Grotesque and Tragic; emotions awakened by distorted forms and incongruous relations, allied to beauty and grandeur either ill animal or human expression................................................................................... 97 CHAPTER VIL THE INFLUENCE OF NATURAL CHARACTERISTICS AND OF DEGREES OF CULTURE IN MODIFYING THE IMPRESSIONS PRODUCED BY ART. Section First.-The influence of national character and social customs on the sensi ble impressions produced by art.................................................................... 100 &ection Second.-The general influence of advancing civilization on critical appreci ation of art................................................................................................. 102 S,etiom Third.-The special influence of forms of political organization on the patron age of art................................................................................................... 103 Section Fourth.-The special influenco of intellectual progress in science and litera ture on the style of art................................................................................ 104 Sction Fifth.-The special influence of moral refinement on the accessories of art... 104 Section Sixth.-The special influence of religious culture on the subjects of art......... 106 Section Seventh.-The nature of art-study, and the sources whence its lessons are to be drawn.................................................................................................... 108 BOOK IT. DRAWING; THE REPRESENTING OF FORMS ON A PLANE SURFACE. CHAPTER I. BLAM.E DRAWING; THE REPRESENTING OF FORMS AS LOCATED IN A SINGLE PLANE. Section First.-Lines as the elements of drawing.................................................. 113 action Scond.-Proportion in the outline of plane drawings................................. 118 7 CONTENTS. PAGN &ectsm 2hird.-Elementary Shading; the representing of the third dimension In plane drawing.................................................................... 116 ,ction Fburth.-Chiaroscuro; the gradation of light and shade........................... 117 Section ifgh.-The applications of plane drawing...................................... 118 CHAPTER IL PERSPECTIVE DRAWING; THE REPRESENTING OF FORMS LOCATED IN PLANES MORE OR LESS REMOTE. Section First.-The nature of perspective, and of foreshortening............................ 119 ection &econd.-The practical execution of drawing in perspective; and artificial methods of illustrating its principles............................................................. 121 &ction Third.-The lines and points to be first fixed in perspective drawing........... 122 &ction Fourth.-Principles of descriptive geometry and projection entering into per spective drawing.......................................................................................... 125 Section Fifth.-The principles of trigonometry and of optics as they relate to per spective drawing........................................................................................ 127 Section Sixth.-The perspective of shadows........................................................... 128 Section &eventh.-Aerial perspective, and its relation to chiaroscuro......................... 130 Section Eighth.-Curvilinear perspective; and the relation which the actual curve of perspective lines in nature has to their representation in drawing................ 131 ection NVinth.-Binocular vision, in its relation to perspective............................... 134 Section Tenth.-The history of drawing in perspective............................................ 136 CHAPTER III. ENGRAVING; THE TRANSFER OF IRAWINGS TO ENGRAVED PLATES FOR THRE MULTIPLYINS OF COPIES. Eection First.-The nature and history of engraving.............................................. 137 Section Second.-Xylography; or engraving on wood............................................. 138 Section Third.-Chalcography; or engraving on copper......................................... 139 Section Fourth.-Etching; engraving on copper by acid reaction............................. 141 Sectimon Fifth.-Siderography; engraving on steel................................................. 142 Section Sixth.-Lithography; or engraving on stone.............................................. 142 Section Stenth.-Printing of engravings; the wear and renewal of plates; proof im pressions and their graduated value.............................................................. 143 Section Eighth.-Renewal of plates; electrotyping, or the multiplying of engraved copper-plates.............................................................................................. 144 Section Ninth.-The place of engraving among the fine arts................................... 145 CHAPTER IV. PHOTOGRAPHY; OR DRAWING BY LIGHT. Siction trst.-The coloring influence of light, which led to the art of photography.. 145 Saetion -cod.-The Daguerreotype; and the early applications of photography... 146 8 CONTENTS. PAGE &ction hird.-The ambrotype; and printing of multiplied engravings by pho tography...................................................................... 147 ,,"ion Fourth.-The chemical action which takes place in photographing............... 149 &tion iFtfh.-The claim of photography as a fine art.......................................... 150 CHAPTER V. DESIGN IN DRAWING. ection First.-Conception; or the originating of the idea to be embodied in drawing. 152 Section Second.-Invention; or the elaborating of conceptions................................. 152 Section Third.-Composition; or the grouping of details when invented................... 154 Se_tion Fourth.-Expression; or the giving of reality and life to composition........... 155 BOOK III. SCULPTURE; THE EXECUTING OF FORMS IN ALL THEIR DIMENSIONS CHAPTER L GENERAL PRINCIPLES RELAI'G TO THE EXECUTION AND CLASSIFICATION OF WORKS OP 8CULPTUREF Sectim First.-Technical terms expressive of different methods of executing and of classifying works of sculpture...................................................................... 157 Action Second-The material of sculpture............................................................ 159 Section Third.-The objects of design; as specially adapted to the art of sculpture.... 160 Section Fourth.-Proportion as securing symmetry in works of sculpture................ 163 Section Fifth.-Position as related to balance in sculpture..................................... 164 aection S&th.-Perspective as affected by distance and ang'wr elevation in works of sculpture................................................................................................ 165 Sction Seventh.-Anatomy as it relates to action and expression in sculpture........... 167 Section Eighth.-Practical execution of sculpture................................................... 169 CHAPTER IL PRIMITIVE SCULPTURE; ILLUSTRATED IN THE EGYPTIAN. ,ection First.-Classes of Egyptian sculpture and methods of Egyptian sculptors..... 171 Section Second.-The anatomical skill displayed in Egyptian sculpture..................... 172 Section 7hird.-The moral tone characterizing Egyptian sculpture......................... 173 9 CONTENTS. PAGI Pectin Fourth.-The history of Egyptian sculpture; its rude native originals; its ennoblement by superior artists front Asia; its refinement fronm Grecian inlflu ence; and its decline under the tRomain sway.................................................. 174 Section Fifth.-TiThe sculpture of Eastern Asia; the descending scale of primitive sculpture; including that of India, China, Polynesia and Central and Southern America..................................................................................................... 175 &ection Sixlh.-The sculpture of Western Asia, the ascending scale of primitive sculp ttre; including the Arabian, HIebrew, Assyrian and Persian............................ 175 CHAPTER III. CLASSIC SCULPTURE EMBODIED IN THE GRECIAN. &ection First.-General characteristics of Grecian sculpture................................... 178 &ction &cond.-The bold style of Grecian sculpture; beginning with Dedalus........ 179 Sction Third.-The Athletic Style, matured by Ageladas; statues of victors in feats of strength; illustrated by the Boxer and Quoit-thrower................................. 150 Ak,ion Furlh.-The Grand Style ennobled by l'llidia.s; majestic ideal of herowor ship in the age of Greek culture; illustrated in the Minerva and Jove of Phidias. 181 &ection Fifth.-Tlie Gracefill Style; perfected by Praxiteles; ideals of physical l)eauty illustrated in the Venus de Medici, of intellectiual grace in the Apollo Belvidere, and of composite symmetry in the Amazon and Hermaphrodite........182 &ctimon Sixth.-The Ilistorical Style, dignified by Lysippus; sculptured likenesses of living men with ideal accessories; illustrated in busts and the statues of Alex aidler........................................................................................................ 184 &ection Se&enth.-The Impassioned Style; introduced by Scopas, and culminating in AgesanTder; statues enibodying ideas of physical agony and of mental anguish: illustrated in the Laoc,on and the Niobe....................................................... 185 Sction Eighth.-The Colossal Style; culminating under Chares; the effort to snake giganr.tic massiveness truly artistic; illustrated in the Colossus of Rhodes........... 186 &ection Ninth.-Roman sculpture; linked with the Grecian, in the earl. perfected Etruscan, in the collections captured in Greece, and in the Grecian taste cha racterizing Roman sculptors......................................................................... 187 CHAPTER IV. MODERN SCULPTURE; PLASTIC ART AS AFFECTED BY CHRISTIAN CIILIZATION. Section First.-The Transition Period from ancient to modern sculpture; illustrated specially in the change of subjects for art introduced by Christianity............... 188 &ction ScOtnd.-Tihe chaste, though rude style of sculpture, prevalent in the early ages of Christianity..................................................................................... 189 action Thir-d.-The artificial style and illegitimate use of sculpture characterizing the medieeval ages of the Christian Church.................................................... 190 &ction Fourth.-The majestic grandeur to which sculpture arose at the revival of scienice, of letters, of art, cnd of religion in the fifteenthl century..................... 191 &ction Fifth.-The elubodinient of Christian sentiment in forms of classic grace, chiaracterizing modern sculpture in Southern Europe....................................... 192 10 CONTENTS. PAGS &ctinn Sixth.-The union of simplicity in design, natural beauty of form, anid liveli ness of exlpression distinguishing sculpture in Northern Europe....................... 194 &cti,n Seventh.-The scope of subject and vigor of conception seen in the early growth of English and American sculpture................................................... 195 BOOK IV. OR THE COMBINING OF FORMS, WITH THE UNITED ENDS OF UTILITY AND BEAUTY. CIIAPTER 1. ORIGIN OF ARCHITECTURE AS AN ART; AND THE PRINCIPLES CONTROLLING ITS FORMS& ection Pirst.-Circumstances determining the structure of private dwellings.......... 199 ection Second.-The demands of man's social nature giving origin to architecture as an art........................................................................................................ 201 &ection Third.-Principles originating and giving form to columnar architecture..... 203 Sction Fourth.-Local circumstances, and national peculiarities of aesthetic culture and moral convictions, giving origin to leading styles in architecture............... 204 CHAPTER II. EGYPTIAN, THE TYPE OF ASIATIC ARCHITECTURE; IN WHICH MASSIVENESS IS THE AIM. Sction First.-The uses of Egyptian structures called temples; giving character to their forms of architecture.......................................................................... 205 Sdction Second.-General arrangement, three orders of columns and cornice of the Egyptian temple.......................................................................................... 206 Section Third.-The structure of Egyptian tombs, the facade of rock-hewn temples and the Labyrinth....................................................................................... 208 Section Fsurth.-The obelisk and pyramid as types of the massive in the architecture of Egypt........................................................................ 208 Section Fifth.-The history of Egyptian architecture; the permanent type, massive in material and permanent in its rude and sombre cast; its simple massive originals; its Asiatic gorgeousness; its Grecian refinement; and its Romllan gra.ndeur................................................................................................... 209 &,ection Sixth.-The architecture of India, Eastern Asia and Western America; the declining phase )t the massive style............................................................. 211 Section Serenth.-TlThe architecture of Arabia, Palestine, Syria, Assyria and Persepolis; the advancing phase of the massive style....................................................... 212 I I ARCHITECTURE; CONTENTS. CHAPTER III. GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE; CHARACTERIZED BY MATHEMATICAL EXACTNESS IN FORMS AND [ CATE GRACE IN ADORNMENT. PAGE Section First.-The influence of face of country and material in giving character to Grecian architecture.................................................................................... 214 ection &cond.-The permanence and completeness of Grecian columnar architec ttre........................................................................................................ 214 ection Third.-The arrangement of columns, with their intercolumniations, on which the designation of styles in Grecian architecture is founded.................... 216 Section Fourth.-The several parts of the Greek teiimple, conspiring to give grace to Grecian architecture.................................................................................... 217 &ction Fifth.-The Parthenon as the embodiment of Grecian genius in architecture.'222 &ection Sixth.-lHistory of Grecian architecture till its decline................................ 224 CHAPTER IV. ROMAN ARCHITECTURE; CHARACTERIZED BY STATBLINESS IN DIMENSIONS AND PROFUSE L GANCE IN ORNAMENTATION. Section First.-The introduction of curved lines in groundplot and elevation, giving breadth and stateliness to Roman architecture............................................226 ct/ion Sed.-Modifications of the Greek columnar orders; giving increased pro fusion of elegant ornamentation to Roman edifice&........................................ 22 iction Third.-Varied classes of buildings and modes of structure required by the circumstances, character and habits of the Roman people................................ 229 &ction Fourth. —History of Roman architecture; the curvilinear Etruscan under the kings; the rectangular and columnar Grecian under the Republic and earlier emperors; and the adaptation of both these under the Christian emperors, to new religious uses....................................................................................... 230 &ection Fifth.-Influence of the Roman civil domination on the styles of architec ture in the Roman provinces........................................................................ 231 CHAPTER V. SACRED ARCHTTECURE, AS CONTROLLED BY THE SPIRITUAL WORSHIP AND THE PRACTICAL CHARITY OF THE CHRISTIAN FAITH. Bection First.-The Romanesque style of church architecture; founded on that of the Roman basilica..................................................................................... 233 Sction Second.-The Byzantine style of church architecture; having the Greek cross for its groundplot, and the Roman dome for its elevation......................... 234 &ction T7ird.-The Gothic style of church architecture; characterized by steepness of roof with bracing buttresses, and by pointed spires and windows for orna ment.................................................................................................... 236 S,ction Fourth.-The Saracenic, or style of Mohammedan sacred architecture; hiav ing the Hebrew groundplot and the Byzantine elevation.............................. 239 12 CONTENTS. PAGE &ction Fifth.-The revived Grecian style in sacred Christian architecture; having the Latin cross as its groundplot, the Byzantine donme as its elevation and the pure Grecian orders in its columnar decorations............................................ 240 &ctin Si'xth.-The nmodifications of form and style in church edifices suggested in the progress of Christianity................................................................................ 242 .I,- I CIIAPTER VI. ECULAR ARCHITECTURE AS INFLUENCED BY THE SOCIAL AND INTELLEOTUAL, THE CIVIL AND DOMESTIC WANTS INDUCED BY CHRISTIAN CIVIULIZATION. ection First.-Castellated styles; ais a model for palatial residences........................ 244 Sction S&cond.-Capitoline styles for state-houses and halls of legislation................ 247 Sction Third.-onventual, including college, hotel, hospital and prison styles; de signed as congregated homes for the education of youth, the accommodation of travelers, the care of the infirm and the restraint of the vicious........................ 248 Sction Fnurth.-Villa and cottage styles designed as private residences, suburban retreats and country residences.................................................................... 250 BOOK V. PAINTING; THE ADDING OF COLOR TO FORM. CHAPTER L THE ANALYSIS AND COMPOSITION OF COLORS. &Sction First.-The simple or elementary colors................................................... 253 Section Secofmd.-The artificial or compound colors................................................. 253 Action T7ir-d.-Complementary and contrasted colors........................................... 255 &ction Fourth.-The distinction between hues and tints; and the nature and laws of tone and of harmony in coloring............................................................... 256 CHAPTER IL GENERAL PRINCIPLE8 AS TO THE EMPLOY OP GOLORS IN PAINTING. Sedtion First.-The colors of objects in nature to be copied in painting.................... 259 action Second.-The relation of color to form; and the demands of anatomy and general symmetry in painting...................................................................... 260 2 10 li CONTENTS. PAOGX Sctif(mn Third.-The relation of color to light and shade, and the executionl of chia roscuro in pailnting...................................................................................... 2 61 A,cti,n Fourth.-The relation of color to perspective; and aeril effects ill painting.. 262 Sction Fifth -The relation of color to human sensibilities; and the address of varied emotions by painting......................................................................... 263 Sction Sixth.-The relation of color to designe, and its special applications in painting..................................................................................................... 2 64 CHAPTER III. KATERIALS AND SPECIAL METHODS OF USING THEM IN COLORING; AND CONSEQUENT CLASSIFI CATION OF AGES, STYLES AND SCHOOLS IN PAINTING. Section First.-Pigments; or materials used as colors............................................ 266 Section Second.-Vehicles and varnishes; or mnaterials used for spreading colors and giving them clearness, brilliance and durability.............................................. 268 Section Third.-Grounds; or surfaces on which paintings are executed.................... 271 Seclion F,urth.-Subjects of painting; the objects in nature and themes in tholught or history susceptible of being represented by the painter............................... 273 Section Fifth.-The uses of painting; the ends sought by painters, and the classes of works designed for different effects............................................................ 274 Sction Sixth.-Styles of painting; the methods of coloring characterizing different ages and nations, and originating different schools among painters................... 276 CHAPTER IV. ASIATIC PAINTING; RUDIMENTARY COLORING DEVOID OF TRUE ART IN FORM AND SHADING. &ection First.-The rudimentary stages in the early history of painting.................. 278 Section Second.-Egyptian painting; the type of simple coloring, without perspective, shading or propriety of hues......................................................................... 279 Section Third.-The painting of Eastern Asia; the declining phase of rudinmentary coloring..................................................................................................... 2 80 Section Fouirth.-The painting of Western Asia; the advalncing phase of rudimentary coloring..................................................................................................... 2 81 CIIAPTER V. GRECIAN PAINTING; NATURAL COLOR UNITED TO IDEAL FORM. Section First.-The formniative period of Grecian painting, during the ages of the Greek lyric and epic.................................................................................... 283 Sectio, Second.-The advancing development of Grecian painting under Aglaopho and l)amuophilus in the age of the Greek drama............................................... 284 Section Third.-The recognition of painting as a sister art under Micon and Polyg notIs in the age of perfected sculpture and architecture................................ 286 Section Fourth.-The first received schools of Grecian pailnting, under Apollodorus and Eupompus, in the age of Greek philosophy............................................ 287 1 4 CONTENTS. PAO! Section Fifth.-The perfecting of Grecian painting under Zeuxis and Parrhasiss in the age of Greciani orator.y.......................................................................... 288 Section Sixth.-The culminatilng era of Grecian painting under its greatest masters, Apelles and lProtogenes, ill the age of the political unity of Greece under Alex anider the Great.......................................................................................... 291 action Seventh.-The declining period of Grecian painting in the decline of Greek political supremacy and of Greek culture...................................................... 295 CHAPTER VI. ROMAN AND MEDLEVAL PAINTING; CHARACTERIZED BY ARTIFICIAL COLOR AS AN ADJUNCT AND ORNAMENT OF ARCHITECTURAL FORMS. ection First.-Collection of Greek paintings and employ of Greek painters at Rome. 298 S&ction Second.-Native Romanii painters and their productions................................ 298 Section Third.-Romana taste in painting characterizing early Christian art.............. 299 Section Fourth.-Thle Byztntine style of painting; rigid in outline and excessive in coloring; permanently established in the Eastern Church................................ 302 &ection Fifth.-The Romanesque, or rude native style of painting long predominant in Northlern Italy........................................................................................ 303 CHAPTER VII. THE RISE OF MODERN PAINTING IN SOUTHERN EUROPE, INCLUDING ITALY AND SPAIN; PRE EMINENTLY RELIGIOUS IN ITS THEMES, CLASSIC IN FORMS, AND SPECIALLY CHARACTERIZED BY PERFECTION OF LIGHTS IN COLORING. Section First.-The early reaction of the love of nature and of genius in art against formalism and dogmatism in Northern Italy.................................................. 306 &Sction Scomd.-The natural style established under Giotto aind the rise of distinct schools under its influence........................................................................... 306 &ection Thisd.-The Tuscan schools; the dramatic of Florence and the contemplative of Siena..................................................................................................... 308 &ction Fourth.-The school of Padua distihnguished by classic forms; the directly associated school of Verona and Ferrara, and the indirectly connected schools of Milan, Bologna, Modenia and Parma.......................................................... 310 Section Fifth.-The school of Venice; devoted to the attainment of richness and brilliance of coloring................................................................................... 311 Section Sixtl.-TThe Umbrian school of Central, and the Neapolitan of Southern Italy; form.l in style and mystic ill religious spirit.......................................... 312 .ction Seventh.-TThe age of the three great niasters, Lionardo da Vinci, Michel Angelo and lRaphael Sanzio......................................................................... 314 &ection Eighth.-TThe schools of Northern Italy as influenced by Lionardo, and of Central and Southern Itialy ly M. Angelo and Raphael................................... 318 Section Ninth.-The Spanish schools; formal anid miystic in style; historically asso ciatedl with the school of Southern and Central Italy; culminating in Velasqiez and Muirillo of Seville.................................................................................. 321 &ection TCeIth.-The Eclectic school of Bologna, imitative tholugh select; established by the Carracci, adorned by Domnienicihino and Guido, closing with Carlo Dolce.. 325 15 CONTENTS. PAGE &dwon enth.-The reactionary natural school preceding the decline of Italian art; originating with Caravaggio, and adorned by Salvator Rosa...................... 328 CHAPTER VIII. THE ADVANCE OF MODERN PAINTING IN CENTRAL EUROPE; INCLUDING GERMANY, THE NETHER LANDS, HOLLAND AND FRANCE; EMINENTLY SECULAR IN SUBJECTS, NATURAL IN STYLE AND CHARACTERIZED BY PERFECTION OF SHADES IN COLORING. &ction First.-The rudimentary history of painting in Germally to the sixteenth century...................................................................................................... 331 &ection Second.-The establishmnent of the native German school under Albrecht Diirer and IIans Holbein.............................................................................. 331 ection Third.-The revival at the close of the eighteenth century of the ideal his toric by Cornelius; of the formal and mystic style by Overbeck; and of the natural style by the Dusseldorf school........................................................... 333 Section Fourth.-The establishment of the Flemish school by H. and J. Van Eyck; characterized by life-like naturalness and labored coloring.............................. 334 Sction Fifth.-The culminating era of the Flemish school under Rubens; dis tillgiished by boldness of invention and richness of coloring........................... 335 Section Sixth.-The Dutch schools; the exaggerated natural style originating with Rembrandt; the low life or "genre" with the Breughels; and the pastoral land scape favorite with the Dutch masters........................................................... 337 &ction Seventh.-The early history of the native French school; its modification un der Giotto and Lionardo; the classic style of Poussin and the landscape of Claude, in the seventeenth century............................................................... 338 Sction Eighth.-The operatic style of Le Brun under Louis XIV.: the fete style of Watteau under Louis XV.; the temporary reaction of the natural style of J. Vernet, Greuze and others; the gross tragic style of David during the Revolu tion; and the restoration of the naturtl style under De la Roche and II. Vernet. 340 CHAPTER IX. THE LATE DEVELOPMENT OF MODERN PAINTING IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA; OONPRERENSIVE IN SUBJECT AND AIM, AS WELL AS IN THE NATIONALITY OF ITS' ARTISTS; NATIVE IN CON CEPTION, BUT CULTURED IN STYLL ection First.-The early English taste in painting as developed first by Italian and later by Flemish artists................................................................................ 343 ection,cond.-The early native English masters, beginning, with Hogarth; the first English schools originating with Sir J. Reynolds in portrait and Gains borough in landscape.................................................................................. 344 dction Third.-The English schools, masters, and critics in painting in the nine teenth century............................................................................................ 346 ection Fourth.-The history of American painting prior to the war of American In dependence; with its chief masters, West and Copley........................~............ 348 16 CONTENTS. PAGE ection Pifth.-The American painters of the half century succeeding the era of Na tional Independence.................................................................................. 349 Ictwn Sixth.-The characteristios of American nationality and Christianity, as de veloped in a comprehensive type and elevated style of native art in painting..... 353 BOOK VI. LANDSCAPE-GARDENING; THE GROUPING OF NATURAL OBJECTS TO SECURE ARTISTIC EFFECTS OF FORM, COLOR, RELATION AND MOTION. CHAPTER L THSE EFFECTS TO BE SOUGHT IN LANDSCAPE-ARDE,NnG. &ctton Pi?. —The general end of order and symmetry, coinciding with utility, in landscape-gardening............................................ 356 ction Second.-The general aim of grandeur in extent and picturesqueness In grouping, conspiring with elegance in forms and richness in color................... 35T Secton Third.-The special effects of association; as the novel or venerable, the na tive or foreign, the enlivening or depressing.................................................. 358 ,ection Fourth.-The special effects of motion, apparent or real; in undulation of soil, in running water, in waving forms and susceptibilities of trees, and ilk ani mate creaturea.......................................................................................... 359 &ection Fifth.-The rare resort to fictitious effects; as the imitative, the deceptive, the'grotesque.............................................................................................. 360 ection Sixth.-Studies in science and art relating to landscape-gardening, and requi site to the master in this art......................................................................... 360 CHAPTER IL THE MATERIALS BY WHICH THE EFFECTS OF LANDSCAPE-GARDENING ARE SECURED. ction First.-The structure of the surface of the ground to be adorned; as the con trolling natural feature in landscape-gardening.............................................. 862 Sction Second.-The style of buildings to be erected; as the leading artificial feature in landscape-gardening................................................................................. 363 &ction Third-The bounding limits of grounds; fences sunken or raised, ditched or terraced; palings of wood or of iron; walls of brick or of stone; and hedges of shrubbery............................................................................................... 364 F 17 CONTENTS. PAOIR Section Fourth.-The walks and drives; dependent as to direction and curvature upon inequalities and obstructions of grounds, and on the position of the prici pal buildings.............................................................................................. 364 Section Fifth.-The conduct of water, dependent on slope of grounds; and its em ploy in fountains, rills and pools................................................................... 365 Sectian Sixth.-The location of tilled lands and useful plants; as vegetable-gardens, fruit-orchards, wheat-fields, grass and pasture-lands........................................ 365 Section Se&venth.-The grouping of ornamental plants and trees; the adjusting of flower borders and shrubbery; and the arrangement of groves, avenues and clunmps of trees, according to class, form, color and mobility............................. 366 Section Eighth.-Artificial accessories; as sculptured forms; rustic seats, arbors ind grottoes for rest; and swings, vehicles and boats for motion............................ 368 &ctim,.intl.-Animal accessories; smaller and larger quadrupeds, wild and do mestic; birds free or caged; fish and reptiles................................................. 369 Section Tenth.Climate and seasons, bleak and sunny exposures, as influencing choice of plants and style of buildings........................................................... 369 CHAPTER III. ANCIENT AND ASIATIC STYLES OF LANDSCAPEGARDE.NIN. Section First -The primitive "Garden of Eden;" as the perfection of nature and art......................................................................... 371 Section Second.-Egyptian and Assyrian gardens; controlled in their features by the sameness of surface and richness of soil belonging to level river lbottoms........... 372 Section Third.-Syrian and Persian gardens; illustrated specially at Jerusalem and Persepolis; allowing the variety of features belonging to a rocky hill country... 373 Section Fo,rth.-Ancient Grecian and Roman gardens; characterized by geometric exactness of outline and elegance of forms in adornment................................. 374 Section Fifth.-Gardens of the Middle Ages; Christian and Mohammnedan; Roman in arrangement, and Asiatic in adornment..................................................... 377 Section Sizth.-Modern Chinese gardens; characterized by fondness for the diminu tive in dimensions and the grotesque in forns................................................. 378 Section Seventh.-Modern Turkish gardens; distinguished by luxuriance in natural adorninent and voluptuousness in artificial accessories.................................... 379 CHAPTER IV. MODERN EUROPEAN LANDSCAPE-GARDENING. Section First.-Italian landscape-gardening; villa and palace gardens, as influenced by climnate, surface of country, and by fondness for ancient forms and irchitect siral accessories........................................................................................... 38i Section &Seod.-Fre,ich landscape-gardening; nietropolitan, suburban and chateau gardens; modified fromni the Italian by a naturally wooded country, and by na tive taste for lively fornis and colors.............................................................. 381 Section Tlird.-D-Dutch landscape-gardeniug; controlled by lowland scenery; chliarac terized by straight lines in roads and canals, in field-bounds, basik-terraces and shaded avenues........................................................................................... 384 18 CONTENTS. PAGE ction Fourth. —English landscape-gardening; characterized specially by lawns, parks and animal collections; in style the early Roman, modified by the ancieLt Dutch, and then superseded by three successive native schools, the bald of Kent, the picturesque of Price and the gardenesque of Reptoii.................... 384 &etdion Fifth.-American landscap-gardening; affording a field for unlinmited va riety, and reqtuiring a native though chastened taste....................................... 387 BOOK VII. THE DECORATIVE ARTS; ARTIFICIAL ACCESSORIES AND ORNAMENTS OF OBJECTS IN NATURE AND OF WORKS IN ART. CHAPTER L THE FIELD OF DECORATIVE ART; COEXTENSIVE WITH HUMAN WANTS; AND VARIED ACCORDING TO MATERIAL EMPLOYED AND TASTE EXERCISED. ection First.-Dress and ornaments; their classes, material and modes of elabora tion............................................................................................................ 3 89 &,ctioni &cond.-Implements of business, and house utensils, fiurnitsre and wall decorations; their uses, material and varying forms and styles......................... 391 &ction TVird.-Traveling equipag-; trappings of animals,l,d styles of vehicles....... 392 &ection Falrrth.-Book illustrations and picture borders; their design and the p)rinci ple of their adaptation................................................................................. 393 &ection Fifth.-Insignia of personal rank and of nationality, with their symbolic character and elaborate adaptation; defensive armor and offensive weapons...... 394 &ction Sixth.-Religious vessels and symbols; festal decorations and funereal mnionu ments and tablets........................................................................................ 395 CHAPTER II. ASIATIC DECORATIVE ART; RUDIMENTARY IN STYLE, DEFECTIVE IN FORM, EXCESSIVE IN ORNA MENT, BUT ELABORATE IN FINISH. &ection First.-The Indian as the permanent source, and the Egyptian as the ancient storehouse, of Asiatic decorative art.............................................................. 396 S&ction &cod.-Chinese and Japa.nese as the degenerating stage, and Polynesianl and American as the degraded decline of Asiatic decorative art........................ 397 & iion T/i-ird.-IIebrew decorative art; the central and hallowed type of the Asiatic style........................................................................................................... 397 19 CONTENTS. PAGII Action Pourth.-Arabian, Phoenician, Syrian and Assyrian decorative art; the first stage of advance in the Asiatic style.............................................................. 398 ection P/fth.-Persian and Greek colonial decorative art; the most advanced Asiatic, and the connecting link to the Grecian type....................................... 399 CHAPTER III. EUROPEAN DECORATIVE ART; CONTROLLED BY THE ALTERNATING PROGRESS AND DECLINE OF SCIENCE AND ART, OF SOCIAL, INTELLECTUAL, MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPROVEMENT. &tio First.-Grecian and Roman decorative art; the one exact in form and chaste in finish; the other elaborate in detail and profuse in ornament....................... 399 Section Scond.-Early Christian decorative art; marked especially by symbols of religious ideas peculiar to the new faith........................................................ 400 Sction Third.-Mediseval decorative art, ecclesiastic and secular; artificial in de sign and limitless in invention...................................................................... 401 &ctton Fourth.-Modern changes in material and handicraft; modifying the style and deteriorating the finish of ornamental work.............................................. 403 action Fifthl.-Modern methods of locomotion and engines of war; varying the form and adornment of vehicles and of vessels, and revolutionizing the styles of armor and weapons...................................................................................... 403 &ction Sixth.-Modern views of popular equality; simplifying official insignia and multiplying illustrative methods of imparting knowledge................................ 404 &ction S&venth.-Modern refinements in metaphysical and theological science; origi nating new devices to represent spiritual truth and future spiritual lift............ 405 20 ART CRITICISM. BOOK I. MAN'S NATURE AND RELATIONS TO THE WORLD AS AFFECTED BY ART. ART addresses the mind through some one of the bodily organs. Its appeals, unlike mere corporeal impressions, affect the mind as well as the body with pleasurable emotions; while too, unlike purely intellectual or spiritual impressions, such as the delight of Newton in mathematical calculations and the rapture of Descartes in metaphysical inquiries, they are always accompanied by and are produced through a sensation on the bodily organs. The eye is the chief organ through which art addresses men; yet the other organs of sense, especially the ear, have their own classes of art to appeal to them; while it is the combination and co-operation of allthese that give the highest delight possible. When, for instance, in a ride through a beautiful country in spring, the fanning of the warm breeze is a soothing luxury to the touch, the exhilaration of gentle motion gives a delightful play to every muscle, the fragrance of the flowers refreshes the sense of smell, the flavor of the first ripe fruits feasts the palate, the singing of the birds makes melody for the ear, and the ever-varied forms and hues of hill and vale, mountain and meadow, leaf and flower, insect and bird, beasts and, passing human beings, gi re a never-ending variety in their address to the eye, we are satisfied, that while all our senses were given for our pleasure, the organ of 21 ART CRITICISM. vision is the one to which the broader field has been assigned. These suggestions hint the appropriate order to be followed, and the proportionate consideration to be given in treating of the powers in us to which art makes its appeal. CHAPTER I. GENERAL VIEW OF THE CONSTITUTION OF MAN AS DESIGNED TO BE ADDRESSED BY ART. THERE is in us by creation an admniration of art. By implanting this capacity the "Father of Spirits" has declared his design that it should be cultured as a source of happiness and a means of virtue. There is also created within us a fondness for the inzitation of art. By endowing us with this faculty our Creator intimates that it should be exercised as a power for promoting the happiness and virtue of others. SECT. 1. THE WORLD WITHOUT US AS MADE FOR THE ENJOYMENT AND THE EMPLOYMENT OF ART SENSIBILITY. When God made man in his own image, and he was perfect in all his powers, we read that he made every tree first "pleasant to the eyes," then "good for food." The eye saw the beauty of the fruit before the palate tasted its sweets; the intellect was addressed more than the mere bodily sense; the delights of the mind were made both to precede and to exceed those of the flesh. The love of art, and the power it exerts to promote man's happiness and welfare, was the first made to bless and govern us. The infant is stilled as readily by a pretty toy, or by the nurse's song, as it is by the luxury of its mother's milk. This is the first element entering into our love of art and our impulse to make it our study. We read again that man was placed in Eden, where every tree was already "pleasant to the eye," "to dress and to keep it." There were additional forms of beauty and grandeur that man was made to conceive and execute, which, even amid the Creator's perfect works, might be studied and put into shape. In all Adam's posterity the love of doing and of nlaldig is a natural impulse. 22 MAN MADE FOR ART. The child loves to draw and to make letters before he cares to learn their names and their connections in words. The first impulse of even the maturest mind on taking up any volume is to examine the artistic illustrations; for the artist speaks quicker to the eye than the pages of the author can speak to the mind. SECT. 2. THE NATURE WITHIN US TO WHICH ART APPEALS. Philosophers have divided the elementary principles entering into our impressions of things and beings into three distinct classes: "The True, the Beautiful, and the Good." To this analysis ethical philosophy adds "the Right." The love of the true, the beautiful, the good, and the right, with the aspiration to attain them as a personal possession, forms the ideal of a complete man. Truth speaks to the intellect, beauty to the sensibilities, goodness to the instincts, and righteousness to the conscience of man. Under the idea of the beautiful is included an extended class of emotions; as the admiration of the delicate and the graceful, of the melodious and the harmonious. of the grand and the sublime. These emotions, when produced by objects appealing either to the eye or to the ear, or to the conception of the mind, make up what is properly termed "the love of art;" and the objects of perception and conception, which man has created in order to awaken these emotions, come under the designation of "The Fine Arts." The fine arts, as distinguished from the useful arts, are those that appeal to the love of beauty in distinction from the love of utility. Art is properly human skill in constructing. When the end sought and the result secured in the employ of human skill is an article for man's utse, without regard to its beauty, that skill in constructing belongs to the class of useful arts. When the end sought and the result secured by this skill is an object that awakens pleasurable emotions, without reference to the idea of utility, that work of skill belongs to the fine arts. SECT. 3. THE BODILY ORGANS THROUGH WHICH ART ADDRESSES THE HUMAN MIND. Man has five organs of sense, smell and taste; touch, to which some add the muscular sense; and hearing and sight. These the practical and discriminating Grecian philosopher Aristotle grouped in two classes; those which receive impressions from objects by im 23 ART CRITICISM. mediate bodily contact with them, as taste, touch, and the muscular impressions associated with touch; and those which receive knowledge of objects at a distance, as sight, hearing and smell. Regarding the pleasures attending their exercise, the senses are appropriately arranged in three classes; first, smell and taste; second, touch and muscular pressure; third, hearing and sight. To the first of these, smell and taste, belong the grosser and purely material pleasures. It is only by a direct meeting and mingling of the material bodies not belonging to our organism with the organs that taste can address us; while smell is made chiefly to be a servant to taste. Yet even these lower senses become dignified when made associates of the higher impressions of art. Next to these lower and material pleasures come those of touchy including the whole range of muscular and nervous sensation common to the entire bodily frame; which, as Hobbes suggested, may be called physical. The delight of the fanning breeze and of the laving bath, the gambols of the lamb and of the child, the luxury of action and toil in every stage and department of human life, minister indirectly to the mind's pleasant as well as successful employ. The directly intellectual impressions and pleasures are those derived from the eye and the ear. In smell, taste and touch, as Lord Kames suggests, we are conscious of contact with the object producing the impression; hence we naturally refer the pleasures derived from these sensations to the organs themselves; and therefore we properly as well as naturally regard these pleasures as corporeal. In pleasures derived through the eye and ear, however, we do not at all think of the eye and the ear as the seat of the sensation experienced; we refer the delights of sight and hearing immediately to the mind itself Hence Kames ranked these as intermediate between purely intellectual and corporeal impressions and pleasures It is important to note that the ancient Greek writers on art laid. great stress on the media which, as they supposed, intervene first between the external object and the higher organs of sense, and second between those bodily organs and the mind dwelling within. Impressions are made, they imagined, on the eye, the ear, and also on the organs of smell, through subtle fluids, air and ether, whose vibrations extend from the objects to the organs; and one of the nice distinctions between the theories of Plato and Aris 24 MIETIIODS OF APPEAL IN APRT. tot!e as to the source of lhuman knowledge was the question whletlher, as Plato averred, these vibrations originated in the organ, or, as Aristotle arg,ued, they proceeded fiom the object. The sanie ancient writers believed that a yet more subtle fluid intervenes between the organ and the spirit; an agent intermediate between lma,tter and spirit. This agent Plato regarded as the miedium tlhrough wllich higher intelligence inspires the poet and artist. 3Iodern science finds important truth in these ancient theories, anld art learns much frioom antiquity while mindful of thein. SECT. 4. THE METHODS BY WVHICII ARTISTS MAKE TIIEIR AD DRESSES TO IHUMAN SENSIBILITIES. The power of art to sway men mnay be traced in every age and clime. Its exuberant early aspiring is seen in the Assyrian tower which was to reach heaven with its top, and in Egyptian statues cut out of mountains and Egyptian pyramids reared as new mllounItains in their place. It is observed in its huImbler fori in the nicely-carved articles of ebony and ivory brought now from the centreC of Africa, in the coral and shell ornamlents of the simple islanders of Polynesia, and in the hideously-adorned pipes and tonallaawks of the rude natives of America. The Greeks spoke of the origin of art and of its power over their ancestors under the legend of Orpheus, who charimed the forest trees and wild beasts with the music of his lyre. The idea cloaked under this ilnagery is the power of Inental culture, beginning with the attractive instruction that comies through the fine arts, to inflience men for good. In that early era all arts were united in one; but afterward philosophers began to classify the arts. The Iuses, the spirits presiding over art, were divided first into three: Jele(te, Thlought; Jficnime, 3Ieniory; and Acr(le, Expression. At a later day, when the analysis of art, and of the sensibilities to which it appeals, became more elaborate, nine subdivisions of the third, Ac(cle, were niade. Their names and synmbols were these: Clio, History, pictured with an open scroll in her hand; Melponme)e, Tragedy, veiled, leaning on a pillar, and holding in her left hand a tragic mask; T/tali(t, Comedy, holding in one hand a coniic mask, in the other an augur's wand; Eittei7e, Music, holding two flutes; Te()sjl,i o}'c, the Dance, in a dancing attitude, playing upon a sevenstrliigeed lyre; E~lato, Amiatory Poetry, holding a nine-stringed 2b 3 B ART CRITICISM. lyre; Calliope, Epic Poetry, with a,roll of parchment in one hand, and a straight trumpet sometimes in the other; Ui'ania, Astronomy, holding a globe in her left hand and a pointing rod in her right; Polyhymiiia, Histrionic Art or Eloquence, with the forefinger of her right hand on her lips or a scroll in her hand. At a very early day the Muses were inaugurated as chief teachers in the schools of Greece. Pythagoras, about B.C. 500, learned in Egyptian methods of instruction, introduced music into his school; that term including the whole range of philosophic and artistic studies. As a figure of the harmony of the universe, he taught the "music of the spheres;" that the heavenly bodies in their steady sweep through space produce, as on an Eolian harp, a beautiful and sublime harmony. Nearly one hundred years before Plato, Eumolpus of Sicyonii, near Corinth, introduced into the common schools of Greece instruction both in the principles and the execution of art; so that all the boys thus trained could not only appreciate and justly criticise the works of their artists, but could even themselves execute works of plastic art. Athens was not long in copying such a suggestion. Plato speaks of education in his time as "first for the body gymnastic, then for the soul musical." Pericles and cultured men generally, as Plutarch mentions, were trained to the highest degree of skill in art. The influence of this training in chastening the sensibilities and moulding the character was most powerful and most happy. The religion of the Greek was love of art; their deities were embodiments of art ideas; and the common property of the state, the res publica, consisted of collections of art in temples and statutes, to whose increasing fund the Athenian people willingly devoted half their time and labor, while their own private houses were of the plainest style. Art education raised the Greek people to the highest rank in intellectual advancement and in moral refinement. Most of all, it begat in them that exalted religious yearning which made them the first people to appreciate and embrace the truth and beaity taught and exemplified in the Christian system. The early Romans cultivated the arts because of their moral influence. Sterner, however, than the Greeks in their maxims and habits of external morality, they rejected some branches of Grecian art. The Romans in their better days made a wide distinction between the nine Muses. "Melpomene" and "Thalia," the 26 CLASSES OF TIIE FINE ARTS. Drama, both tragic and comic, they rejected as cultivating a fictitious and unpractical virtue; and "Terpsichore," the Dance, they utterly expelled as an open enemy to healthful physical development and as a secret foe to moral purity. When, however, the Republic, with its sages and moralists was gone, and the first days of the Empire, with its bright lights of literature, had set in twilight, and when Roman artists became even more licentious than Roman historians and poets, then the choice relics of ancient and true Grecian art were buried beneath the ashes of Vesuvius in Southern Italy and by the ravages of the Goths in Northern Italy, until a people breathing the spirit of a purer faith exhumed the hidden treasures and made them models for modern artists. Since the days of the Romans the love of art has lingered in the south of Europe, especially in Italy. At times the spirit of error and of evil has triumphed over man's better impulses so much as to corrupt even art itself. Such, however, is the inherent and native power of art to purify mian's desires that its permanent perversion is impossible. As their name indicates, the fine arts are and must be agencies for human refinement. In Italy they still exert a chief moulding influence. The French as a people have received a new intellectual and moral impulse amid the galleries of art gathered by Napoleon. In England the growing power of art to refine her rising people may be traced; while in the American republic, specially requiring'this influence as a social bond and as a moral refiner, the importance of art study is just beginning to be realized. SECT. 5. THE CLASSIFICATION OF THE FINE ARTS IN ACCORDANCE WITH THEIR MODES OF APPEAL. As we have seen, art makes its appeal to the human mind for good through all the avenues of sensation, but chiefly through the two organs highest in their nature and mission, the ear and the eye. Cousin remarks that "all classification presupposes a principle" on which classes are arranged, "which principle serves as a common measure." In the fine arts, he says, "this common mneasure is nothing else than expression;" a word which he compares with the Greek "logos. "Expression," he adds, "being the supreme and, the art which moo,t approaches this is the first of all arts." 27 .AlTr (t'1TICrS[f. He makles sculpture and music the extremes; the former the least, the latter the most expressive, of the arts proper. Painting he ranks as intermediate, being the art "nearly as preci.se as sculpture, iand nearly as touching as music.'" Poetry he regards the highest of all, thoLugh not strictly a fine art proper. The fine arts which address human emotions through the ear are, in their elemcntary forms, imusic, eloquence and poetry. Mlusic proper addresses the car with pleasant sounds disconnected from sentiment; eloquence, in sounds that may be indifferent or agreeable, addresses the reason by sentiment alole; poetry appeals to our emotional nature by the combined influncie of the sentiment it embodies, and of the grace of its diction and the imielody of its rhythml. Each of these has its own divisions and subdivisions, as well as its combinations with one or more of its own or ol different classes.'Iusic is melody when one voice alone is heard or one part alone is performed; and it is haIrmony when different but concordant parts unite. Instrumenta,l lmusic is simple music, and vocal music is imuiic and poetry comibined. So eloquelcee and poetry have their classifications and comibiiations. The histrionic art is eloquence combined with acting and scenery. The opera, again, is music added to the histrionic art. MIusic seems to have been developed earlier than the arts which address the eye. Jubal, "the fitther of all such as handle the harp and organ," lived before Tubal-Cain, the "instructor of every artificer in brass and( iron;" as also Orpheus, the leader in Grecian imusical art, preceded DTdaluLs, the -father of Grecian sculpture. In rank, too, the arts addressed to the ear are superior. Poetry, associated with imusic, is made the chief of the fine arts by TI;t,() in ancient, and by Cousin in modern times. Socrates, as Plato relates, in early life heard a voice which said to him, "Socrates, cultivate the 3luses;" a mandate which in his youth he soughlt to obev as a sculptor, in his mature manhood as a philosopher, and in the last hours of his life as a poet. Cousin says, "The art par ercelekice, that which surpasses all others, since it is incomparably the most expressite, is poetry." The fine arts addressing emotions through the eye are more numerous. Drawinig is the first and simplest, and has its classes of outline and shaded, plane and perspective; to which are to be added engraving in its varied branches and p)hotographing. Scu7,p .28 CONSPIRING OF TIIE SENSES IN ARPT APPEA,LS. 29 ta'e presents single figures or composite designs as decorations of aichitectural structures; and its finished works are reliefs or coinplete statuary. ],(ti)tiijg has its subdivisions according to nateritl, as,pastelle, water and oil colors; according to sub)ject, as aiiinlal, portrait and landscape painting; and according to design, as mliniiature and life-size, scenic and finished. Architecttre is the moulding and groul)ing of forIns of plastic art, as ornaments of structures called forth by the useful arts. Laitdsc(rpe G(arde(lnitg is the union of the aichitect's with the painter's arts, the arranging of varied ifbnls of nature into one vast whole, and the shading and harmnonizing of the tints of nature as the painter arranges and blends them on his canvas. The D)ecoriatie Arts embrace fiagmelltary details associated with all the fine arts. CHAPTER II. TITE LOWVER SENSES INDIRECTLY CONTRTIBUTING TO THE IMJPRES SIONS 3IADE BY ART. TIIE general division of the senses into five, and the recognition of the distinct souriices of knowlcedge and of pleasure furnished by each of these senses, imay be observed in the opinions of men at every stage of philosophic advancement, among all nations and in all ages. There has, moreover, been a virtual division of one of these five, touch, into two orders of imprl)essions, indicating a recognition of six distinct sources of knowledge arising firoom imipressiolis on the body. SECT. 1. THE GEN.ERAL RELATION OF TIIE LOWER SENSES TO TIlE APPEALS OF ART. The Egyptian artists, while addressing the eye by the iiassiveness of their architecture and sculpture and by the gorgeousIiess of thleii painting, sought to heilghten their inmpressionl by ad(lingl an a)lpeail to the lower senses. The walls of their tombs, made to be the,home of departed spirits still united to sentient bodies, covered with scenes of all forms of sensual delight, are witnesses that the true aitist must be miaster of the whole rang,e of human sensibili 9J:, s ART CRITICISM. ties, and must make his work appeal to the lower as well as the higher of the human senses. There is a general relation between the different senses in their laws of producing pleasure. Cicero, illustrating the charm of a voice well modulated in the orator, says: " How much more lively in beauty and variety of colors are many parts in new than in old pictures! which nevertheless, although they arrest us at first sight, do not delight us for any length of time, while we are permanently attracted by the very uncouthness and old-fashioned look which belong to ancient paintings I How much softer and more delicate in song the minor key and falsetto tones than the sharp and shrill notes; against which not only critics, but the multitude itself, exclaim if they are oft repeated! The same may be seen in the other senses; that we are not so long pleased with ointments prepared with the strongest and most pungent odor as with those of a medium character, and that what seems to smnell of wax is more praised than that which smells of saffron; that in touch itself there is a limit both as regards lightness and softness. Yes, even the taste, which is the sense most voluptuary, and the one which is moved more than the other senses are by sweetness, how quickly it spurns and spits out that which is excessively sweet!" The poet Young, though a stern moralist, teaches that all the senses should be gratified, since "Our seases as our reason are divine." The laws controlling the pleasures of the lower and higher senses are thus parallel because they are a family together; and the power of the fine arts over human sensibilities can never be appreciated, as Burke intimates, unless this relation be observed. In considering each of the senses in its relation to art, the general distinction between the useful and the fine arts must be kept in mind; that the former are designed to secure utility, the latter to promote pleasure. The pleasures of taste and smell, designed chiefly for utility, when combined with the higher pleasures, are always subsidiary; and when their sole gratification is sought, it is a mark of the degradation, not of the elevation, of the mind. It is only when these pleasures are associated with those higher in rank that they become dignified, and then they may even aspire to be courtly refinements. 30 ADDRESS IN ART TO THE SENSE OF SMEI,L. 31 SECT. 2. THE IMPRESSIONS OF TItE SENSE OF SMELL IN ITS REIA TION TO ART. The sense of smuell seems to be restricted to the higher orders of the animate creation: while as a power for cultivated( delight it belongs only to man. Its office is twofold. As a source of simple pain when affected by nauseous effluvia its office is manifestly that of utility. In the peculiar delight given by the odors of flowers, when the honeysuckle and the orange blossom load the air with firagrance, we must regard this sense as mainly, if not wholly, designed to minister to pleasure. The classes of sensibilities which pleasant odors address are, as in the higher arts, mainly three. They minister to social luxury and refinement; they arouse religious incitement and devotion; and they serve as tributes of affection and as counter-reliefs amid the struggle of attachment which cling,s to, and the disgust which puts away, the corrupting form once loved. When MAary poured over the bead of Jesus the "box of precious ointment of spikenard," and even "anointed his feet" with it till "the house was filled with the odor of the ointment," it was the natural expression of the conviction that agreeable odors minister to social refinement. When God directed for the service of his sanctuary "spices for anointing oil and for sweet incense," we are assured that the agreeable impression produced by pleasant odors may aid in bringing man's spirit into a fit temper for devotional service. Yet again, when not only women, moved by the impulse of feeling, but senators in their wisdom, "brought a mixture of myrrh and aloes," and "wound the spices in the linen cloths about the body of Jesus,' we have a confirmation of the fact that we are made as rational beings to be addressed for the highest spiritual ends through the lowest of the bodily senses. The appeal to this sense is distinct though associated; for the rose is admired more than the peony, the dahlia or the camellia, which have equal beauty, but no fiagrance. Even the "lily of the valley" mentioned by Hebrew poets lo-es to our imagination half its loveliness when the rules of strict biblical interpretation comipel ius to renounce the idea of the fragrant delight of our childhood, and oblige us to think of it as a gem of the sod equally fair indeed, but without spicy odor. ART CRITICISM. As a study in art the power of this humbler sense has called forth glcius to a reimarkable degree. Anioiog Egyptians and Ilebrews, Persians and Arabians, Indians and Chinese, the "art of the apothecary" has beei celeb.rated by such men as Moses and Solomon as a worthy one; while amiong Greeks and Romnans and nations of modern Europe, just in proportion to the general advancement and culture of a people has always been the dignity given to this same art. Probably, however, this appeal is best made not by the artifically extracted and concentrated essences of natural odors; but, according to the suggestion of Cicero, in the moderate and unconcentrated perfume of flowers. So far as the sense of smell is concerned, art must rather employ than copy nature to produce its impression. The poet has struck the chord that vibrates in universal human nature in the call, "Bring flowers;" "flowers" for the joyous, and "flowers" for the sad; "flowers for the bridal wreath," and "flowers for the early dead." At the ancient Egyptian feast servants held flowers to the nostrils of the guests; in Turkish cities the corpse of the dead is borne through the streets uneoflined, but loaded with flowers; the simplest shrine of the Madonna at an Italian cross-road is festooned with flowers; and modern advancement in refinement has found no method of improving the simple custom suggested alike by refined philosophy and by rustic intuition. The artist in still-life will ever study firagrant flowers as a mode of appeal. SECT. 3. THE IMIPRESSIONS OF TIlE SENSE OF TASTE IN ITS RELA TION TO ART. The sense of taste in man, as that of smell, performs a double mission, the first office being that of utility. The craving of hun-i ger is opposed to, rather than identical with, the pleasure of the palate, since we reject unsubstantial delicacies, however tempting at other times, and choose the simplest beverage, water, and the plainest aliment, bread, till hunger and thirst are sated. The pleasures of taste proper seem to begin, rather than to end, when hunger is sated. It is doubtful whether taste in its stricter signification is applicable to any creature but man. As the necessities of the lower animals are onillv corporeal, and not spiritual, we can see no end tc be 32 TtIE BANQUET AS AN AUXILIARY TO ART.'3 accoimplishedl by tlte gift of a source of giatification designed for an intellectual and a mioral being. Certainfly the Creator has given themi no capacity to culture the hiigher gift like man. They do not go over tlhel sea to seek new luxuries, nor havec they any scientific c-)oks, or convivial banquets, with viands studiously compounded, fi)r an increased appeal to the sense of taste. Taste, in its higher sigitificatioii, belongs to the attributes of man, as designed for a highier than corporeal delight, and indirectly at least it is an art sensibility. The ends sought by an appeal to this sense are the same three already alluded to; individual gratification, social culture and religious refinement. That is in any age or land a happy home where skill and industry spread every day a tastefully prepared though frugal meal; as that household is always a cheerftd one amoig whomi a fondness for flowers or imusic reigns. FiromI the days of Job birth-day feasts have been scenes of pleasure, filling up the whole year with bright anlticipations and pleasant recollections. As a social bond, foiuo the days of simple shephlerd-princes no substitute has been found for the banquet as a power to heal old grudges and bring to a point pending negotiations either of personal or of national importance. As a religious obligation. the Divine Being enjoined on His ancient people the attendance of every man at the three annual feasts. The Great Teacher himself also set the exaimple of attending not only on established public feasts, but also of partaking private banquets; while, too, the chief expounder of his systemi taught Greek and Roman Christians that they should still attend upon the national and religious festivals of their fellowcou ntryv i.. The dignity to which this sense may be made to rise is seen in the fact that its culture has been most advanced by men most devoted to philosophy, to literature, to oratory, and to the pursuits nearest allied to true art. Socrates and Plato, though so different in temperallment, were drawn out in highest discourse at the banquet-table: and Aristotle, whose genius embraced the whole range of science and philosophy in his day, cultivated his taste to the nicest delicacy in judging of the flavor of a fish. Around the honored board of Maecenas gathered in the Augustan age not only poets and artists, but also sages and orators )f the greatest name; and even Cicero was never happier when retired for his plilosophli. B - ART CRITICISM. cal studies than amid the dinner-table disputations which have made the name "Tusculanum" for ever famous. Not only such men as Garrick, Curran and Sheridan, but also the scholarly Johnson and Burke, gathered their inspiration amid the tempered convivialities of the club-room supper. No one can doubt that there has been often an excess in the resort to the pleasures of the palate, and that this excess has tended to render its voluptuousness a means of degrading instead of refining man's nature. The abuse of the banquet, however, like the adulteration of coin, is a concession to the real value of that which it counterfeits. The close association of this sense with the intellectual has in part, perhaps. led to its employ as the expressive designation of that power by which the minid forms a judgment of beauty in art. The word "taste," borrowed fiom the corporeal sense allied so strongly to art, has been the almnost universally chosen figure of speech by which to designate that power of the mind which judges of the beautiful. The artist should study the manifestation of this corporeal sense, that he may in his works appeal to it in itself, and more especially that he may appreciate its high relationship to that purely intellectual nature in man which he must strive to address in his works. SECT. 4. THE IMPRESSIONS OF THE SENSE OF TOUCH, AND ITS RELATION TO ART. Dr. Reid begins his chapter upon "Touch" thus: "The senses which we have hitherto considered are very simple and uniform; each of them exhibiting only one kind of sensation, and thereby indicating only one quality of bodies. By the ear we perceive sound, and nothing else; by the palate, tastes; and by the nose, odors. These qualities are all likewise of one order, being all secondary qualities; whereas, by touch we perceive not one quality only, but many, and those of very different kinds. The chief of them are heat and cold, hardness and softness, roughness and smoothness, figure, solidity, motion and extension." The complex character of this general sense suggests a classification of effects very different, as well as of their caulses distinct in the human organism; the gerlm of which Sir Win. Hamilton has traced back to Aristotle and his predecessor Democritus. This analysis is founded upon the manifest distinction bet ween the mniere 3 1 TOUCH MINISTERING TO ART SENSIBILITY. 30 factual impression made upon the skin by heat and by contact with external bodies, and that entirely distinct impression produced by pressure upon and tension of the muscles. The nature and extent of this analysis become more apparent when this sense called "touch," with its multiform elements, is viewed in its relation to art. There are most manifestly three classes of agreeable sensations made upon the human organism, aside from the local senses of taste and smtell, of hearing and sight. The first of these is the pleasing impression made upon the siuface, on the skhit by gentle heat or the slight stroke of a soft body, solid, liquid, or gaseous, as of smooth fur, of lukewarm water or of a spring zephyr; and these are the pleasures of touch proper. The second is the agreeable sensation of pre.ss?re more or less gentle on the mnuscles, as in embracing, and of action in them as called forth by the gambols of animals and children and by gymnastics and the dance in youth; and these are the pleasures of what may be called muscular tension, or, for brevity's sake, simply "tension." The third is the exhilarating excitement arising from any stimntlits acting upon the nerves, and thence upon the brain; the seat of this impression being neither the superficial skin nor the muscles underlying the skin, but the nervous fibres imbedded within the muscular system, centring in the brain; its producing cause being either a material stimulant acting through the digestive organs, or mental excitement operating through the brain on the nervous system: while its distinctive character lnay be perhaps appropriately designated by the term "nervous stimulation,'" or simply "stimulation." It is the first of these three classes of pleasurable sensations, the sense of touch proper, whose relation to art is in this section to be considered. The sense of touch, Aristotle argues, is the discriminating test by which plants and animals are separated one from the other; its most perfect development being found in man. While superior to any animal in the power of touch as a source of utility, man is not only superior to, but distinct from, animals in the pleasures derived from this sense. Touch proper is but a surface impression, whether ministering to utility or pleasure. Its impressions are of two classes; the pleasant impressions of temperature, and those arising from gentle ~o,itact of a material agent, gaseous; liquid or solid, upon the sur ARPT CRPITICISMf. fa'ce of the body. The soft brushing or "kissing" of the zephyr, the gentle fanning, of the liglit breeze, ol, -Is D)r. Franklin said, the rude yet exhilarating fiiction of the sweeping gale, is one of the luxuries of life. Of the saime nature is the luxury of the water-bath, the laving of the wash, the dripping of the slhower, the coursing past or cutting through of the river current in swimming. So, too, in the soft or smooth rubbing of the sponge or towel, of the brush or comb and of the hand, the pleasure of this sense is more or less exquisite. The exquisiteness of the pleasure which may be derived from this sense when that of any other is denied is the true indication of its value. Children deprived of sight alone, show this in their inclination to feel any soft substance, such as velvet or fur, glass or ivory; while to those destitute of both sight and hearing, this only source of gratification left, mediate as it is between the highest and the lowest senses, appears to be a never-exhausted source of varied delight. The blind deaf-miutes will sit or stand for hours holding a piece of fur, rubbing it with apparent ecstasy over every portion of the body that they can lay bare; the Creator having opened to them a universe of delight in a field never entered by those absorbed in the pleasures of the other senses. WTere the emotions awakened by the fine arts limited to the impressions of sight and sound, then this most intelligent class, deprived of the two higher senses, could have no art sensibility. The relation of "touch" proper to art is perhaps the least intimate and important of any of the lower senses; thlou,gh that of its attendant sense, the muscular, is the closest and broadest. The true artist, however, like the poet who studies nature, will often appeal to this form of delight. Lightness of touch, and its exquisite effect on marble or canvas, as well as on the viol string or the organ key, will be constantly suggesting to the painter, the sculptor, the musician, the relation, by analogy at least, which the sense of touch has to his art. Most of all the gentle impulses of the soul that fall pleasantly on kindred spirits, of which those of the zephyr, the stream, the hand are the types, must always be present to control the mind and the heart of the artist in conceiving as well as in executing his works; and if he has studied thoroughly the theory of the sense of touch and of its pleasure, the chastening influence of a right mental bent early received will prove a habit in his 36 MUSCUIT,AR ACTION DISCIPIT,INED BY ART. art that will give the charm of a subdued tone to everything he touches. SECT. 5. THE 1IPREESSIONS OF -IUSCUI,AR TENSION IN TIHEIR RET,L TION TO ART. The seat of the sense of tension is in the muscles underlying the skin. The track of the impressions made upon this sense is not, therefore, as in touch, superficial upon the extremities of the nervous fibres, whose minute and delicate terminations in the skin are so peculiarly sensitive; but it is a dull pressure felt on the body of the nerves imbedded in the mass of the muscles. These impressions arise from two classes of muscular action; the pressure of an external object from without, and the tension of self-action from within. The knowledge obtained through muscular tension is of two kinds; knowledge of qualities of material objects communicated to the mind by the pressure of those objects on our muscular and bony firamework; and knowledge of the position, actual and relative, of different portions of our bodies by their angular separation, their gravity and other muscular impressions. The blind man learns the form of a body by clasping it; he ascertains its composition as hard or soft by pressing upon it, and he judges of its weight by lifting it. From the amount of pressure exercised by the will on the muscles which move the eye, the tongue, the shoulders, the elbow, the thigh, or the knee, we know so perfectly how to adjust the direction aind amount of their angular motion that not only the skill of the engineer. of the pianist, and of the giymnast, but the ordinary powers of a child in directing his eye and his hand and of preserving his balance, are a wonder to us. As Sir Wm. I-amilton has shown from the treatises of Aristotle, Galen, and a line of acute thinkers succeeding them, this source of knowledge has ever been recognized in metaplhysical analysis; Aristotle designating it "motion;" the Germans, following him, "the muscular sense;" while Hlamilton unites both designations in the characteristic expressions "locomnotive energy" and "muscular tension," The pleasures derived from muscular impressions are of two classes. The first of these is that produced by pressure from without. It is seen in the manifest enjoyment of the infant, who has as yet attained no power of muscular self-action, when it coos with 4 37 ART CRITICISM. satisflaction at the scrubbing of the bath and crows with delight at the fondling hug of its nurse. The pleasure of the kiss and the embrace in youth and mature years, dignified in Asiatic nlore than in European custom as the natural accompaniment of the joy of meeting and the sorrow of parting, the pressure of the hand, of the lip, and of the breast is a pure and noble gratification. The second class of agreeable muscular impressions is that resulting from the tension of the muscles in the exercise which forms their healthful play; a development of delight in the child somewhat later than that just mentioned. Goldsmith pictures this in the gambols of "The playful children just let loose from school;" Cowper graphically sketches it in the gleesome race of "the bounding fawn," the frisking gallop of" the wanton horse," and in the romp and "dance" of "the very kine that gambol at high noon." In youth, sports of the turf, such as cricket and the foot-ball, racing and leaping, wrestling and boxing, are a more studied and less unmeaning employ of this same delight. With this class of sports, at first rude, art allied itself more and more until a system of artificial exercises became in vogue, which among the Greeks took the name of gymnastics; the "education for the body" commnended by Plato. The fascination of this class of sports led to an excess and abuse. Aristotle, the teacher of Alexander, carefully noticed their effects thus: "Those accustomed to gymnastic exercises bear the cold with more difficulty than those not conversant with them." "The same habit is not advantageous to both health and strength." The practical Romans also observed what Diodorus in the Augustan age records of the Egyptian educators: "They think that by the exercise of daily wrestling youth improve in their strength but for a little time, and that with a great deal of hazard, while they gain no advantage at all as to the health of their bodies." This, however, as an abuse from over-straining, is no more an objection to the enjoyment rightly employed than over-eating is aii objection to eating at all. Amiong these last-mentioned exercises the dance finds place; to whose excess and abuse a double objection exists. Among the Hebrews it was a natural diversion for "children" and "virgins" to "dance;" and tie wisest of men declares' There is a time to dance." As expressing patriotic exultation, Jephthah's daughter "came out to meet him with timbrels and dances;" and after 38 TIIE GRACES OF MUSCUL,AR ACTION. David's victory "the women went forth singing and dancing with tabrets." As an hallowed act of devotion, the prophetess Miriam, and the women with her, worshiped "with tiuabrels and with dances;" and David made dancing a religious act. Among the Greeks in their early days the dance held an elevated position. One of the nine Muses was its presiding genius. Honier speaks of the dances of the illustrious suitors for the hand of Penelope as a manly accomplishment; and represents even sage Ulysses as an admirer of the skill of dancers. Xenophon mentions Socrates as present at a dance; and Plato argues in his "Laws" that the dance should be among the Greeks, as it was among the Egyptians, founded on religious ideas. The Greek dances proper, introduced by Theseus, were very simple in their movement and expression. A different view was taken by the best Greeks when the frantic war-dance of the Corybantes superseded the hardy training of their warriors; when, too, the Bacchanalian dance became but a representation of a drunken debauch; and when again the licentious dance of the Hetarae was practised by harlots. Fromi this tinme Aristotle among the Greeks, and Diodorus and Cicero among the Romans, objected to the dance, first, because it induced physical weakness fiolom the over-exertion to which its exciting influence tended; second, and especially, because of the lascivious associations of which it was regarded the direct expression. During the better times of the Roinan republic it was deemed disgraceful for grave men or even ingenuous youth to engage in any formin of the dance. Julius Caesar introduced the Pyrrhic or war-dance firom Asia Minor into the games of the Roman theatre; after which the tendency was so rapidly downward that Nero degraded the imperial purple by dancing publicly on the stage. The uncovered walls of private houses in Pompeii now reveal to what an extent not only the manly war-dance, but the licentious waltz of the courtesan, had been carried. The Great Teacher appearing near this crisis to call back Greeks and Ronians to the true as well as the good in every relation, seems to have himself lmade, and to have inspired his apostles to make, a just discrimination between the simp)le honme expression of delight at a son's return and the depraved dance of the adulterous wom0an's daughter. The chase, again, in rude and polished ages, has been an exhilarating pleasure of muscular action, associated with the higher 39 AR,T CRPITICISM. delight in successful skill. TI.. l,oets have ascribed to it an eninobljlili,g and reflin g influence. T()ses quotes a couplet datillg back to a period lolg before his day, extolling " Niiiirod, miighty in hunting before the Lord." Thle Greeks and Rtomans installed Diiana as the special patron of the ehase; and their poets iansde it one of the miarks of a hero that hlie excelled in this art. Williai Soimerville, in his poem, " The Chase," traces the history of huntilg fi'om Ninrod, mentions its introduction into England by Williami the Conqueror, and shows its influence in refining the before rude manners of the British nobility. To this class of pleasures must probably be attributed, to some extent, the fiscinating charm of ea} itself. The measured tread of files of men in mnarching, with all the studied evolutions of the military drill, are directly pleasures of muscular action; and the hold upon the human iiiind which military exercises gain, the tenacity of their power even in old age upon the veteran soldier, are witness to the faseination attending this delight. Partisan warfare, the scout, the raid, the anmbush, and even the dashilng, charglle of the pitched battle and the slow approach of the regular siege, are but the hunt and the chase of a lhigher order of beings. The conflict taxes to the intensest energy'the exercise of the mind indeed; but the exhilarating play of the muscular firame is the coveted pleasure that outweighs the pain of wounds and even of mutilation. As already intimated, the association of art with the pleasures of iiiLuscular action was so apparent to the ancient Greeks that one of the AMuses, Terpsiehore, was appointed to preside as its head. Aiiiong modern critics "beauty of motion," as treated by Lord Kaiiies, Sir Wliii. Haiialton, and others, should find place here. The study of attitudes and of every variety of lnuscular effort, represented in such sculptured forms as the Dancing Fawns, the Boxer, the W restler, the Hluntsman, the Wariior, and Hercules in lhis varied labors, all have their origin in this impulse of human nature; while in this too dwells the fascination comling fiomi the paiinter's grop)ling of children plaiying, of iiien and women toiling, of men and beasts bounding in the chase, of horse and tf,tilien strugg-lin, in bloody conflict, and even of angels soaring in clouds or etlier. 40 XNERVOUS STIMULUS AND ART ENTIIUSIAS31. 41 SECT. 6. THE IMIPRESSIONS OF NERVOUS STIMIULATION IN THEIR RELATION TO ART. Beneath the skin and within the nmuscles, acting in part as tlheir ministers, lie the two classes of nerves; the one called afferent ol neirves of sensation, terminiating in the skin, the other called effercit or nerves of motion, having their attachments to the muscular fibires. In addition to the two kinds of impressions on these, distinguished as those of touch and of muscular tension, there is another class of impressions quite distinct in both nature and source firom the two previously considered. The impression distinctively called nervo?us is a feverish flutter of the whole nervous organismi, the brain included, which no one thinks of referring to an action upon them through either one of the bodily senses, and which it would be absurd to call the inipressions of smell, taste, touch, tension, sight or hearing. They are lroduced in part by external stiimulants introduced into the body in a solid, liquid or gaseous forill, such as tobacco, Opium, tea, coffee, alcohol, ether, exhlilaratingr gas, or some other kidltied agent which acts upon the nervous system. They more generally originate from a cause within, fiiiiiliarly known as self-exciteiment, whose abuse is characterized as "working one's self into a firenzy;" I state of mind exemplified in devotees of every religious systenl, in putblic speakers of every class and country, and even in the wild entliusiasm of a whole people lost in the whirl of a show or carnival. Aniiiials below iman seem destitute of this nervous excitability. They have no inward power of mind to act as an exciting cause, and they shun narcotic plants such as tobacco and the poppy, as well as the alcoholic stilmulus of fermenting firuits. It is lman, the intellectual being alone, whose intelligence prompts him to resort to nervous stiimulation as a source of pleasure. The pleasurable sensation of nervous stimulation becomes a resistless spell over the youth or the man who gives himself up to its indt!g( ice. The child soon discriminates between the molmentary gi-iti.ication of the palate coining fiom the sweetened draughlt and the intoxicating sensation that follows fronm it; and very soon lihe 1'eferls the latter separate firom the foi-rier. Very soo0011, too, even the nauseous taste of tobacco ceases to be disagreeable, because of the exciting influence produced by it. Wlhen. too, the almost 4, ART CRITICISiM. delirium of nervous excitement arising from hilarious society where wit and humor kindle and sparkle, when the first fresh glow of personal success in speaking under the conmplete possession of body and soul which absorption by one's subject of discourse produces, when the entrancing thrill of imaginative composition in prose or verse, or even the reading of poetry or romance, history or the drama, philosophy or science, comnes to be tasted, when either of these forms of nervous stimulation arising from the ecstatic play of one's mental faculties is first experienced, a new world of surpassing delight breaks on the young student. It is a source of pleasing exhilaration to which mature manhood fondly resorts, and which even in old age still holds its devotee spell-bound. The resort to this source of pleasure is seen in the earliest and latest history of mankind. Noah "planted a vineyard," and "drank of the wine thereof" until "he was drunken;" and among all nations, rude or refined, the use of fermented liquors and the smoking of some narcotic have been found. In sacred history we are told that God "giveth wine to make glad the heart of mnan;" and even that Jesus, the perfect man, "drank of the fruit of the vine." In every age, too, men have sought this same excitement coining from the mind's own imaginative employ. Both true and false prophets like Samuel and Saul, as well as bards and seers like Chalcas, orators and poets in every age and land, have spoken and written under a nervous stimulus which has seemed to be the working of a supernatural power. As with the other pleasures of sense, the end sought through nervous stimulus has been threefold. As an individual gratification, and to gain the ear and take possession of the mind and heart of men for good or evil, public speakers have sought to attain this power of self-excitement. The wonderful energy of the double stimulus of the wine cup and of imaginative enthusiasm in the speaker, who sways at will the throng of even stolid men, has been a theme of admiration and an attainment most coveted in all ages of man's history. As a means of religious determination, the power of self-excitemnent peculiar to great leaders like John Knox, M1artin Luther and George Whitefield has been, though peculiarly liable to abuse, a mighty instrument for good, akin as it is to that bfervor of the great apostle, whom many philosophic hearers regarded "beside himself" and "m ad." 42 SELF-EXCITEMENT A POWER IN ART. It is a perversion of this source of pleasure and of power when the means is made but an end, and the mnere ecstasy of nervous excitement is sought for its own sake or for any inferior end. Noah and the sons of Aaron are set forth as a warning by the Jewish lawgiver in the command, "Do not drink wine nor strong drink when ye go into the tabernacle of the congregation, that ye may teach the children of Israel." Elijah and John, the greatest of preachers, abstained entirely fromnt artificial stimulants; while Tiiiiothy, the select model of a Christian pastor, was so abstemious that only an apostle's express direction could persuade himn to use a stimulant even as a medicinal restorative. It is an excess of the same worthy stimulus when the genuine equable excitement flowing from the fervor awakened by a great theme degenerates into a mere reu,t, the offspring of a forced, strained and unnerving excitement; a fault in many American speakers, both political and religious, often noticed by English and French critics. The wearing and deranging self-excitement witnessed in the phenomena called clairvoyance, spirit-rappings and the like, is a careless experimenting with the most delicate of all the parts of our organism, made to be in its healthful excitement the source of a genial and ennobling delight. This abuse, however, is no argument against the proper use of any power for good or of any source of pleasure which our Creator has inmp)lanted within us. The ecstasy of nervous stimulus, as felt by an orator like Demosthenes declaiming on the sea-shore thrilled by the tones of his own voice, or by a poet like Schiller writing all night when the inspiration was on him with a wet towel about his head to cool his fevered brain, or even by a mathematician like Sir Isaac Newton toiling for weeks to reach his result, and, when so near as to be sure of its nature, completely unmanned by nervous excitement and obliged to transfer his work for completion to another hand,-this is a source of superior pleasure which always has controlled and always will sway the truest genius. The artist, above all men, needs this delighlt, so inexpressibly fascinating, to cheer, to prompt, to sustain him in his long years of unrequited toil; years most drear were it not for this constant and exquisite delight. If Coleridge had occasion to say, "Poetry has been to me its own exceeding great reward," much more may the sculptor or painter utter it of his art. More than this, the I 43 ART CRITICISlM. artist must be able to infuse this samie, his own fervor of spl)irit, Into the beholder, otherwise hle car.ves and p)aints in vain. As the speaker in prose or verse that carries away his audience with hiiu lhas learned the almost imag,letic power of an iml)parted nervous stimulus, so the artist who succeeds must learn to possess it at his work, since it will then be readily imparted to those who come withiIl the sphere of his influence as beholders. CHAPTER III. TIIE 1IPRESSIONS OF TIIE IIIGIIER SENSE OF IIEARING AS ADDRESSED BY ART. TIrE arts which address the car belong rather to the sphere of tletoitical than of art criticism, For two reasons, however, the analysis of the laws of musical sounds, one department of these arts, may be made to occupy a brief space in a treatise on art critieisn. Tlhe departments of poetry, oratory and the histrionic arts fionl the days of Aristotle have been abundantly treated in works on rhetorical criticism. The special field of music and musical sounds, like that of the other fine arts proper, as painting and sculpture, has been mainly the su)ject of professional teaclhing; partly firom the fact that its teachers instruct by the voice instead of the pen, and address only practical pupils, who do not need written treatises; partly also from the necessary technicality of all professional study which makes its text-books unsuited to the general student. Hence a brief cursory view of this field of art is essential for the general student. SECT. 1. MELODY; THE NATURE OF SOUNDS CAI,LIED MUSICAL, AND THE MODEES IN WtlIC11 BY THE VOICE AND BY INSTRUMENTS TIIEY ARE PRODUCED. Sound, as the ancients before Aristotle understood, is caused by vihratioiis in the air; the jar produced by a blow on a wall causing the wall to vibrate, which vibrations are commiunicated to the air and through the air to the ear; the human voice producing vibrations in the air, first within and then without the hings, which in 44 NMUSICAtL SOIJNDS AND INSTPRUAIENTS. a similar maniner are transmitted to the ear. Sounds called niusical are caused by vibrations of the air so rapid and regular that they produce a continued and agreeable impression onl the ear. A wheel made to revolve with increasing rapidity comes at a certatiin velocity to give forth a low musical tone, which tone takes a higher pitch as the speed increases. All musical tones are characterized by a clear and smnooth ring when prolouged; and as distingutished firon each other they are classified, first, according, to lciigth, as long and short; second, according to pitch, as high and low; and third, according to force, as loud and soft. The human voice is the natural first instrulment for producing niusical sounds. A child very soon catches the idea of their nature; and instinctively gives his vocal organs the conformation to produce tlhem. Ini sounding the seven distinct notes of the scale called 'natural," both the increased size and length of the vocal organs in mature life niake the natural notes deeper than in the child's voice; while to produce the next succeeding, seven hi,lgher notes, or the octaves in the scale, the air-passage is narrowed and the breathl is forced through it with greater velocity. The transition firom the voice to iwiIi( instruments was silmple and natural. At first, seven pipes of the same size, but of different lengths, were bound together, side by side, so that the lips could pass readily firon one to the other: a formi represented on the iiioiuiiients of ancient Egypt, and used now by the Sandwich Iilandels. Afterward a single reed or pipe, with holes cut at the )proportionate lengths, was found to give the same alternation of seven notes; while a double force of voice was seen to produce the octaves. The next transition seemis to have been to l)e(ateit instrumieIts: elastic substances, as a hide drawn over a hoop, or a circular Iplate of mietal, the drumi and cymbals, givilig tones in accord with those of' the pipes. Next sti-ibtged instruments were added a readily vibrating cord tighitly stretched giving the samie smooth, ?lear, ringingi sounds produced by the pipe and drumi. Fromi the days of Jubal and Job, rude in Eigypt but finished in Greece, the three kinds of musical instruments already mentioned have been found; indicating that they originated in a principle "in the nature of thlings" instinctively sugg,ested to man, upon which, in no stage of advancement, can he lmake any material advance. The word )itclo ly, in the ancient Greek, expressed the general 45 ART CRITICISfM. effect of' musical sounds. As a technical term of art, it refers to an aTrrangement of a single musical strain for a single voice or instrument. All musical performances, of children and rude tribes, naturally take this character; and the earlier and simplest popular songs, seldom coimmitted to a written fornm, are pure melodies, having only one strain, in which all classes of voices join. SECT. 2. SYMIPHONY; THE CONSONANCE OF MIUSICAL SOUNDS, TIlE LAWS S OF ACCORD DEVELOPED BY PYTHAGORAS, AND THE CON CERT OF DIFFERING VOICES IN PRODUCING ACCORDANT TONES. In music, as in other arts, practice precedes theory; and even in its advanced stages the ablest performer may be unaware of the science which underlies his art. In very early times, however, the ablest minds began to investigate the philosophic principles of this everywhere-adnmired art. Pythagoras having studied music as an art in Egypt, and having introduced it into his school at Crotona, in Eastern Italy, set himself to the effort to reach the laws of nature on which its subduing and moulding power is to be explained. His mind was led to the scientific principle of the musical scale by this incident. Going into a smith's shop one day, he noticed that as several smiths were striking the same piece of iron with hammers of different sizes, all the sounds were harmonious except one. Reflecting upon the cause of this difference, he could refer it to nothing but the different sizes of the hammers. Having weighed the hammers on returning home, he suspended by cords of equal length and size pieces of iron having the same proportionate weights as the hammers of the smiths. On striking these cords, he observed that they gave forth notes corresponding to the ring of the iron. The discovery led him to the cause of the distinctions in musical sounds produced by musical instruments; and thence he obtained a law of proportions in the size of musical strings and pipes, which enabled the Greeks greatly to improve musical science. The rapidity of vibrations in cords depends upon length, size or weight, and tension. The number of vibrations in a given period is inversely as the length of the cord, inversely as the square root of its weight, and directly as the square root of its tension. Hence in a guitar, harp or violin, one-half the length of any string vibrates twice while the whole vibrates once; in two strings of the same 46 LAW OF VIBRATIONS IN MUSICAL CORDS. length, one must be one-fourth the weight of the other in order to vibrate twice as rapidly; and the same string must have four pounds of tension put upon it in order to vibrate twice as quick as when stretched by the tension of one pound.' When two cords vibrate with the same rapidity the waves of air vibrating with thenm strike together on the ear, producing "unison;" called by the Greeks "homophony," or the same voice. When again the proportions between the vibrations are such that the slower vibrations chime in with, instead of breaking against the quicker vibrations, an effect is produced pleasant to the ear, called by the Greeks "symphony," but in modern times "accord." Vibrations of disproportionate numbers clash with each other, and thus produce the unpleasant impression called "discord." The division of the cord as it vibrates into two, three, four and other proportionate parts or nodes is natural, not arbitrary. Thus, if a long tightly-stretched cord be placed in the crack of a window, forming what is popularly called an JEolian harp, it will be observed that according to the strength of the air-current it is vibratiing first as a whole; then in two equal parts, each half giving forth the octave above the note first heard; and then again if the wind strengthens sufficiently it is vibrating in three separate parts, each giving the fifth of the second octave. The cause of this division is thus illustrated. If a long cord be fastened at one end, while the other is made to vibrate up and down, at first slowly, then more rapidly, its capacity to move as a whole will be soon reached; when its oscillations will break first into two, then into three, then into more equal nodes. So if a pebble be thrown into a smooth lake, the first circling ripple necessarily creates by its oscillation a second, and that a third, of the same size as the first, be that larger oi smaller. The main principles, indeed, in the science and art of music 1 Formulce.-If T -time of one vibration, L = length of cord in inches, W = weight of one inch, t = tension in pounds, g = force of gravity, or 386 inches the distance a body falls in one second of time, and N = number of vibrations in a second, then T == L w I/ gt and N - /gt saw 47 ARPT CRITICISIM. were recognized by early Grecian philosophers and artists to such an extent, that the very terms used in musical science, as the RIomani Vitruvius confessed of' the Latin tongue, are borrowed fioni the miother-tongue of the arts. The word tone fi'om " teiio," to stretchll: and the division of the natural musical scale into two parts called " tetraclhords," recalls the fact that the Greeks constructed their first rude lyres with four " chords," or strings, so adjusted as to size, lengthl, or tension, that when struck successively their tones were those of the human voice in rising through the first half of the natural scale. This result they found to be secured by making a difference of what they called a whole tone, or stretch, between the first and second and the second and third cords, and between the third and the fourth cords half a tone or stretch. AWithl this practical science, ahlready attained, Pythagoras proceeded by experiment to ascertain the proportions in cords giving out musical tones. Taking two strings of equal size, length and tension, dividing one by a rest in the nmiddle and sounding the whole of thle undivided cord and the half of the divided one together, the note called the octave was obtained, and the chord which the Greeks called " (dipaso1i,'' because it was necessary to go throughl all the notes of the scale to reach it. Again removing the rest so as to cut off one-third, and sounding the two-thirds of the divided together withl the whole of the undivided cord, they obtained the fifth note and the chord which they styled "diapeitte," because it w necessary to go through five notes to reach it. Yet again, l)ldciig the rest so as to cut off one-fourth of the string, and soundiii together the whole and the three-fourths, they obtained thle f()urthl note, and the chord which they named " ditt(ssero~i," becauil.e it was necessary to go through four notes to reach it. Two note were thus reached following each other in the order of tlhe iiitni-al scale., and one tone apart. Hlere, too, by striking two-thirds a-d tlhree-fourths of the string at the same timie the first discord Nwas encountered. Tlhe ratio of three-fourths to two-thirds of the cord, which produced the alternation of a natural tone and the discord, was observed to be as eight to nine. This latter difference in sound was called a "tone;" and the ratio of the length of strings, which gave tlis first distinction of tone, they imade the proportionI for the (liviion of the others amiong the seven tones not yet fixed, namely, 48 ANCIENT AXND MODERN NAMES OF NOTES. ithe second and third, the sixth and seventh. Dividing off, then, one-ninth of the whole string by a rest, the eight-ninths gave the first whole tone, and the second note in the scale; while eightninths of that eight-ninths gave the third note. The ratio between the length giving the third note now reached, and that giving the fourth before fixed, was only as about fifteen to sixteen,' or about one-half of the ratio proposed as the measure of a whole tone. Taking eight-ninths of the two-thirds, another whole tone and the sixth note was obtained; while again eight-ninths of the remainder of the string gave another whole tone and the seventh note. The remaining portion of the string, compared with the one-half which gave the octave, was only a half ratio, about fifteen to sixteen, giving the second half tone in the scale. The first note of the scale or do was called by the Greeks hypate, the low; the second, parhypate, next the low; the third, luchnos, light or guide; the fourth, niese,. or middle; the fifth, paramese, or next the middle; the sixth, trite, or third from the highest; the seventh, paraalete, or next the highest; and the eighth,?zete, or highest. The modern Indian musicians designate the seven notes by the Sanscrit words sa, ri, ga, Faq, pa, dha, ni; their origin showing their antiquity. The modern names are attributed to Guido, a monk of Arezzo, in Italy; an eminent musician, who lived about A. D. 1022 and who derived the first six from the Latin hynin to St. John the Baptist; qlira gestorum, F/amuli tijoruin, The seventh syllable si was afterward added by Le Maire, a French musician. In modern times the notes of the scale have been indicated by the first seven letters of the alphabet. The notes thus obtained by vibrations of the longer portion of the divided string are all included in the natural scale, whose chords were called simple chords. Of the shorter portions the one-third gives the fifth of the second octave; and the chord called by the I The ratio was between 8 of 89 of the string which gave mi and I of the string which gave fa. The fractions reduced are -2z5 and Z3423; or about as 16 to 5o. 49 " Tlt qtieant laxis Resonare fibris, Solve polluti Labii reatum." 5 c ART CRITICISM. Greeks "diapason-diapente," now calleI the twelfth, one of the sweetest of all chords. The fourth of the chord gives the octave of the second scale, and the chord called by the Greeks " bisdiapason," now named the fifteenth. These five, three simple and two composite, all included within two octaves, were the principal chords as developed by the Greeks. Moderln improvements have introduced three or four octaves into the range of musical instruments. The proportion of strings which give the first octave are 1 _ 3 _ _ _ 5 ~ In each successive octave the proportionate lengths required are respectively one-half those in the previous octave. The number of vibrations in each cord in a given time is found by inverting the same fractions. The proportionate number of vibrations in the first octave will be 1 -9 - - _ - - 3 - - 3 _ 2. If reduced to a common denomiinator, the numerators of these fiactions will be 24: 27: 30: 32: 36: 40: 45: 48; in which there are three sets of proportions. The ratios between the 1st and 2d, 4th and 5th, 6th and 7thl, are as 8 to 9; those between the 2d and 3d, and the 5th and 6th, are as 9 to 10; and those between the 3d and 4th, and the 7th and 5th, are as 15 to 16. It should be carefully observed, therefore, that of the five intervals called whole tones in the scale, three are of a larger ratio than the other two; while the intervals called half tones are not precisely the halves of those marking the whole tones. The Greek word "symphony" refers immediately to the consonalllce of associated voices of different tone singing the same imelody. Even savages, however, notice the change of voice in youth, and the different pitch of male and female voices; and in their simple melodies the male voice after change sings the same common strain a fifth below. Besides this first variation yet a third, a fifth below the ordinary male voice, is heard firom men of deeper-toned voices; a faict noticed among the native tribes of Africa, and also among the negroes of the American continent. In the earliest stage of improvement the study of symlphonies, or accords, leads to the independent striains which make Up the different parts in music. First, male voices, differing more than femiale, are trained according to their pitch to sing strains different, thoughl in accord; then female voices, including those of boys of half growth, are septariated intc two classes. The Brallmins of Iildia have three parts in their 50 IIA.PRONY AND MIETHODS OF SECURING IT. 51 tusiic; wlich were studied by Pythag,oras, and are mentioned by Pl'lto in his beautiful figure picturing the triple virtues of a good magistrate, " lhe should attune theii like the three musical chords, bas, telnor and treble." To those three aincient divisions, "bass" ol low, " tenor" or ledium, "' and " treble," that is, triple or high pirt, modern refinement has added subdivisions of each; "sopraziio" or highL, " mezzo-soprano" or iiiidhlgli in femacle voices, "alto" a high tenor in medliuim uiale voices, and " barytone," ol deep-totIed, in lowe' uiale voices. In the practical business of teaching il nusic, it is found that while the voice iiiay sound with ease notes both ligher and lower, the range of tones to be spIecially cultured by those singilig different parts is as follows: for the soprano or treble from B below to A above the staff; for the alto or second treble fiomi G below to B or C; for the tenor fioiu E to G; for the bass fiomi F below to D above; and for the barytone firom F below to F above. SECT. 3. HAREIONY; TtlE TITREE SCALES OF MIUSICAL TONES 0ON1 W-HICH IT IS FOUNDED; TIlE DELICATE SHADES OF TONE AND ThIE TE.IPERING OF MIUSICAL INSTIUMIENTS BY WHIIICII ITS HIGH EST EFFECTS AIE SECUIIED. In the " natural scale" which mnen by nature, without culture, employ, the half tones occur between the third and fourth, the seventh and eighthl notes of the octave. This was called "diatolIic" by the Greeks, because the voice or instrumient passes in it thlrough all the natural divisions of tones. The suggestion was a natural one that half tones might be introduced between all the whole tones. For, if the rest were miade to slide gradually along fiom the whole to the half length, the cord, vibrating meanwhile, would give forthl an unbroken suecession of varied tones. The stereotyped, unprogressive spirit of the Asiatic race in art is strikingly illustrated in this, that wvliile the Chinese had, centuries before Christ, both the natural scale and a division of it into twelve half tones, yet they have never secured the hi,gher effects of music. The superior Brahminic race in India and the Persian in China have been firomn the earliest ages masters in higher musical performances. The perfection of the division in nmusical tores attained by the Greeks, realized what they designated by the wo:d'" harmlony." APRT CRITICISM. The introduction of half tones between each of the five whole tones made twelve instead of seven different notes to the octave, thus giving greater variety in the same compass. A slight contracting of the vocal organs sharpening a note gave half a tone higher in pitch, called a sharp; and a slig,ht relaxing of the organs gave a note half a tone lower, called a fiat. Thus a new scale was formed, which, because of the overlapping of its tones like colors in painting., producing an adorned style of music, the Greeks called the "chromatic scale," frtomn " ch7roma,'" color. In constructing the chromatic scale of sharps and flats by transposition, the fixed law of the movement of the human voice in tones and half tones becomes miore apparent. Takiing three octaves of the natural scale, one above and the other below that of the ordinary pitch, and making G, the fifth note, the first note of a new scale, the two whole tones and a half tone from G to C give the same succession as firom C to F. From E to F, however, where the new scale demands a whole tone, there is but a half tone; and hence F must be raised in pitch or sharpened a half tone. Thus one new note is secured. Making the fifth of this second scale, or D, the first of a third scale we find between D, F sharp and G, the two tones and a half tone required in the third scale; but, to obtain three whole tones succeeding, C must be made sharp; which secures one more new note. In a third transposition beginning with A, G must be sharpened; in a fourth transposition beginning with E, D must be sharpened; a process by which all the possible divisions of tones are exhausted. Taking now the second, instead of the first of the notes, by which the Greeks fixed the interval of a tone, namely, the fourth instead of the fifth of the scale, the transposition by fiats gives another set of scales. Making the fourth note, or F, the first of a new scale, B must be flattened, introducing a half tone where there was a whole tone in the natural scale. Beginning again with the fourth of this new scale, or B already flattened, E must also be flattened; beginning with E flattened A must be flattened; and beginning, finally, with A flattened D must be flattened; the process here exhausting itself, as in the scale of sharps. The construction of the "chromatic scale" led the Greeks naturally to the "enharmonic scale;" the practical application of whose principles belongs to the highest order of musical composi 52 MUSICAL COMPOSITION AND ITS METHODS. 53 tion. As the intervals fixed as whole tones are not uniform, the ratio of some being 8: 9 and of others 9: 10, the semiitones, brought in by tiansposition of the scale between whole tones having these diffel'ing ratios, must be also of different ratios. Dividing all these varied intervals by the least commnon measure, and calling the subdivisions "cowmias" or segments, the Greeks found that nine commas are the measure of the larger intervals and eight of the smaller intervals forming whole tones; while the measure of the diatonic or natural half tone was five commas, and that of the chromatic semitone either three or four commas. In the enharmonic scale two chromatic half-tones and a quarter of a half-tone, sometimes called a "vibration," were made the interval given to a tone. In employing the chromatic and enhaimonic scales, the human voice can readily strike the nice shades of variation in half and quarter tones. The violinist by a slide of the finger, and the flutist by a slight turn of his lip, accomplish the same. Modern art, however. has embodied all stringed instruments in the piano and all wind instruments in the organ; which are called keyed instruments. In the piano the length of the string, and in the organ the angle of the wind's pressure and the size of the orifice, are fixed in the mechanism; and no fingering can vary them. To secure in keyed instruments the nice distinctions of quarter-tones is therefore impossible; and the resort is to what is called "tempering." For example, the 6th note of the natural scale may be fixed not precisely at an interval of 8 to 9, nor of 9 to 10 from the 5th, but intermediate between them; so that the fraction, reducing both to a common denominator, shall not be - or 1, nor 9 or -6, but 89 0 acmodeoinao,shl not elo x-,nroo SECT. 4. MIIUSICAL COMPOSITION; THE IMPRESSIONS ON TIHE SENSI BILITIES SOUGHT BY MUSIC; TIHE 0IODES OF WRITING MUSIC; TIlE M3AJOR AND MIINOR CHORDS AND THEIR XSTIIETIC EFFECTS; THE KEYS AND RULING NOTES IN MUSICAL COMPOSITION. When the mere unconnected hum of the child at its play becomes a connected strain, the subject of musical composition retuires consideration. This relates directly to the musical strain alone; the words connected with the strain belonging to the subject of musical expression. The ends of musical composition, as of other arts, are the promoting of individual gratification, incitement 5* ART CRITICISM. to worthy public deeds, and the awakenang of religious entlusiasm. The daiee is imadle artistic and plea.suri.ble chiefly fiiom the miiusical aeconipanimen)iet. The marhel of armed iliel would be a toil into-lerable but for the nerlving impulse of martial niiusic; and every foria of religious worship, Asiatic idol adoration, Grecian philosophlie idealism, alike with the most formal and most spiritual devotion of Jewish and Christian assemblies, would be soulless without the aid of both instrumental and vocal music. In order to meet the ends thus sought, music must takle a composite form. Even the child's lay of the nursery, and the rude song of miost savage people, are so perfectly confornied to law that scientific travelers have been able to put them into the form of a written composition. The early Greeks understood. the art of written musical composition, though their methods of notation are lost. In the modern writing of music five parallel lines, with four intervening spaces, called the "staff," furnish a scale upl)onl which the notes indicating the pitch and succession of tones are inscribed. The four ordinary parts are usually written on four, though sometimes on two separate staffs. The place of the first note of each part is indicated by a character called a clef or key; of which there are usually three. The first called the G "clef," or key, has G on the second line fiom the bottom arranged for the treble or highest part. The second or C clef has C on the first line for the so>r)lito, on the second line for the g'czzo-sopj)a)lo, on the third line for the alto, and on the fourth line for the teoior. The third called the F clef has F on the third line for the barytone, and on the fourth line for the bass. In the practical business of musical composition the principles of "accord" and of "halrmony" are brought into requisition. To become master of these demands a comprehensiveness of study, an acuteness of critical skill, and a grasp of genius equal to that requisite in the -higher fields of plastic art; Haydn and Mozart being the Lionardo and Angelo of musical composition; and Beethoven the Raphael. The "common chord" consists of three notes soniiiidedl together, and is called' perfect" when the first, third, anld fifth are thus united. Chords are called "close" when the three notes in accord are within the coipass of a single octave; of which there may be three, the chords of the first, third, and fifth, of the third, fifth, and octave, and of the first, the fiftl., anld tho 54 MUSICAL CHORDS AND THEIR SUCCESSION. 55 octave. Chords are called "dispersed" when the three notes in accord are not all in the same octLave; of whichl there may be also three., the chord of thle first and fifth withl the third of the octave above: of the third and octave with the fifth in an octave above; and the fifth in the octave below with the third and octave in the fundamental scale. In all cases a proper chord includes three notes; the leading note of which is called the fundamental. As the same chords are found in each of the scales in music, natural and chromatic, any one of the notes from first to seventh may be selected as the finda*unental note. The class of chords lwhich furnish the sweetest harmonies are the "major and ninoir chords;" the character of these chords being dependent on the intervals between the notes by which they are formed. Thus the interval between d(o and ni is two whole tones, and is called a " major third;" while that between re and f(it is but one tone and a half-tone, and is called a "minor third." In each colmmon chord, made up of the first, third and fifth, there will necessarily be one nlajor aid one minor interval; and the designation of chords as "major" or "m inor" is derived firom the lower of the two intervals. As the minor chords are sounded, the ear recognizes a slight clashing of the vibrations, occasioning a partial dissonance, whose effect is to soften the sharp ring of perfectly chiming vibrations, and thus give a subdued tone to the strain in which they predominate. 3Iinor chords therefore are adapted to produce pathos, while the major chords are more elevating and grand. The human voice does not naturally pass firom one chord to another of extremely different character; but there are rules in nature for the succession of notes and chords which men without art have adopted. The principal laws of that succession of chords which constitutes harmony are the following. First, any chord may be followed by another chord having the fifth of the preceding as its fundamental, which is called the dominant or "leading" chord. Secoud, any common chord may be succeeded by one whose fundamental is a fourth above or a fifth below that of the precediiig chord: and this is called the " relative-m,a-jor'' or suij-d(Ioniiimiat chord. Tlt'(l, any common chord miay be followed by a chord having the sixth of the preceding chord as its fuindamiental note; and this is called the "relative-minor" chord. Certain intermedi ART CRITICISM. ate tones as passing notes may be interposed between the chords mentioned; and some of the filest effects are produced by the introduction in one of the three parts of the chord of a short dissonant, leading the way to the principal note which is in consonance. The to7ic, or key note, is the chief sound on which a melody is constructed; the note which is repeated oftenest in the progress of the song, and with which it ends. The dominant, or ruling note, the fifth above the key note, whenever repeated before the key note, indicates that a fall of the voice or cadence closing a strain is to follow': and it is always heard in the final cadence in the bass. The sub-doninatat, the fifth below the key note, requires that the key note follow it in some cadences. The mediant is the middle note between the tonic and donilnanit, and the stb-,nediant is the middle note between the tonic and sub-dominant. These notes are specially to be observed, in music of major and minor keys constructed upon the chromatic and enharmonic scales. So manifestly is music, like human language, founded on law, that in the songs of the rudest tribes in ancient and modern times these principles are observed. In the early Grecian and the yet earlier Indian art a similar designation of the tonic, mediant and dominant notes in their musical compositions has been found. SECT. 5. MUSICAL EXPRESSION; THE ADAPTATION OF MUSICAL STRAINS TO THE EXPRESSION OF POETIC COMPOSITION, AND TIFE CLASSES OF SENTIMENT TO WHOSE EXPRESSION MUSIC IS ADE QUATE. Music, like the other fine arts, never assumes its high character, so as to be esteemed noble, unless it is made the vehicle of important sentiment and the awakener of practical emotion. When language is thus made to keep company with song, it is observed that, as there are notes long and short and tones high and low in music, so there are long and short syllables in words and a rising and falling of the voice in the utterance of sentences. The rudest song requires alternation of sentences of similar length, and the rise and fall of voice in successive portions of each strain; both parallelism and cadence being the first elements of poetry. Increased refinement in verse demanded again that clauses, words and syllables should be arranged into feet of fixed measure, so that in the union of musical strains with poetry the two should keep 56 ELEMENTS OF POETRY AS SET TO MUSIC. step with each other; and thus rhythm was introduced as an ecle nientt of' poetic expression. Still agatin, as in strainiis of' music of fixed length the key note is the natural terminator of' the cadences, so song soon came to add rhyiiie to rhythm, or the recurrence at fixed intervals of syllables similar in sound. Hebrew poetry, both in structure and in its chanting, illustrates the paralleclis'i and c(i.dence which are the first essentials of words adapted to musical expression. Greek and Latin poetry excel in perfection of rhythlm; every syllable in each successive foot being as nicely adjusted to its associates as are the parts in the human body. Modern European verse again excels in the attribute of' rhymiie. The modern Italian, the language at once of music and poetry, is so constructed, its five vowel sounds being always pure anrid unvarying and its syllables consisting almiost without exception of a single consoiiaiit arind vowel, that one can hardly help speaking in both rhytlhm and rl,yme: a characteristic which makes the business of the Italian i"iiprovisatoie" a very easy task. The subject of expression in lmusic naturally suggests two points for consideration; the character of the poetic feet employed to express different emotions of the mind; and the style of miusic as to key, range of pitch and stress of voice in harmoiiy with different emotions represented. In each of these the Greek led the way to the true science of this art; while modern German composers have in this latter respect reached a perfection which the ancients never attained. The Greeks had no less than twenty-eight feet, simple and compound, made up by different arrangenients of long and short sylla, bles in combinations of two, three, or four nmembers each. The adaptation of these classes of feet to different sentiruents is often indicated in their names, as in the four feet of two syllables; the "spondee" or votive, two long, used in the solemnly-slow, prayerlike dirges accomipanying offerings presented to the gods; the pyrrhic"'' or warlike, two short, breaking forth amid the furious darting of the war dance and song; the "trochee," or ruattiatg, a tongii and a short, falling onl the ear like a horse's gallop, and trippilng in sportive roundelay; and the'" iambic" or sportive, the flippant trolling upon the toligue of satirical song, intensified in the chloliamnbus or halting iaiiibic. The nice gradation of proportion entering into the miovemient of syllables, called in general long and c * 57 ART CRPITICISM. slort, though of varied proportion in length, is indicated in suel niiam~es as " dactyl" and "anal)st;" thie tfobrmer like the fingers, liavilig its three parts sesquialteral, each one and a halt of its suecesbors, while the "anaplast," or ieoot(]dl[M, was the reverse or counterpart of the dactyl, a short, miediumi. unld long syllable. In Ilebrew poetry there was an evident adaptation between the poetic and miusical strains made to accompany each other; as is iiiinifest in the exultant Song of iMoses and in the lyrics of David, Etllaii and Asaphl, now sweet and plaintive, and now thrilling and im,ajestic. Among the Greeks the triumphs of heroes took the stately tramp of the heroic or epic mietre, miade up in Greek and Latin verse of spl)ondees and dactyls; the hymnn of reverential adoration to the gods assumed the slow and solemni nioveiment called spondaic; the ecndearnients of love could find no expression but in the lively trochlaic or gracefutl iambic; and the fierce and furious war song ran instinctively into the jerkinr pyrrhic. The epic, lyric and pyrrhic styles in poetry were thus directly associated with ciI)irc.ssI;oi in iusic; while the tragic miusec again sought a comlbination of the more elevated styles; ingingi, the stately heroic, the solemn dirg,e, and in the chorus the lig,htest and gayest of mietre in verse and of acconipaniment in imusic; the germ of the coiilbinations of modern times having found expression in the critical writings of the Grecian sages Plato, Plutarch and Ptolemy. There is no art whose adaptations to the production of moral influence has been so studied and guarded as has that of music. The Chinese moral teacher, Confucius, wrote: "W ouldst thlou know if a people be well governed; if their mianners be good or bad. Examiine the imusic they perform!" In his Miodel Republic Plato dwells on the necessity for governmental control over the music of the commnon people; discussing in detail the nature and special influence of the iambic, trochaic, dactylic and spondaic measures, as also the laws which should regulate music. Lord Kaiaes, in comiiilon with many able critics, has argued that nmusic cannot be imade expressive of' sentimient inspiring dread; since in its veryr nature it is designed to please and soothle. Without doubt both lhymns and songs denunciatory in sentiiment and severe in expression are op)posed to the true idea alike ol art and of religion. The attempts, however, of great nmusical comiposers to produce the impression of grandeur and of awe in their subliimest 58 MOD)ULATION IN ORATORY AND MUSIC. oratorios, may be parallel to the appeal of the dying gladiator and tile Lz,oco6.li in sculpture. As in lliatur' the ear is l add,ressed by sounds that awe, bylthe rolling thunder, the howl of the gale at sea, and the crash of dashing air, water, and earth, so to a certain extent music may be made to imitate these and kindred sounds, and thus art produce the impression of nature. SECT. 6. MUSICAL MODULATION; THIE GENERAL RELATION OF 3IUSIC TO PITCHII AND CADENCE OF VOICE; AND ITS SPECIAL RE LATION TO THIE ENUNCIATION OF DRAMATIC COMPOSITION IN HISTRIONIC ART AND OF DIDACTIC COMPOSITION IN ORATORY. In music as in oratory the subjects of expression and miodulatioii are closely associated. The change of sentiment in a poetic composition set to music demanads often a change of the musical key to secure a more perfect adaptation of one to the other. Iodulation is properly the passing of the voice from one key to another. Associated as it is with expression, mnodulation has an important relation to all the musical scales; but especially to those called the "minor scales." In the scales thus far considered, called " major scales," the half-tones lave come between three and four and between seven and eight. In the minor scales, however, the half-tones in ascending the scale are made to conie between the second and third, and the seventh and eighth; and in descending between the sixth and fifth, and the third and second. As the minor cllords have a peculiar sweetness and gentleness of tone, so stiains written in minor keys have a subdued and plaintive succession of sounds in themselves charming to the ear, when the voice in passing fioin strain to strain is skillfully modulated. With the subject of modulation is associated that of "dynamics;" or varying energy and force of voice. When commion conversation becomes aniniated, when at different distances or for different purposes men address each other, a correspondent tone is assumed. We soon distinguish the tone of a master or captain giving command. When a public speaker is addressing a large audience in order to please by the ease and smoothness of the tones of his voice as well as to instruct and move by the sentiment uttered, a tone and pitch are required which shall be distinctly audible to the most distant while it is not disagreeable to those near. As his mlilnd warms with the progress of thought, as new classes of con 59 ARPT CRITICISM. ceptions arise and sudden emotions awake and break forth, fresh and changig, modulations of voice are of course demlanded. The universal resort of uncultured speakers to musical or ringing tones, as those in which transitions of the voice are most easily made, shows that there is a natural origin for what is popularly called "sing-song." What was thus naturally introduced became an art; for in a speaker of genuine genius that becomes a wondrous power which in one without animation is a humdrum and lullaby. This musical modulation fallen into by rude orators in uncultivated nations, as also by the first uneducated and earnest heralds of every new religious reformation, is continued as a religious practice revered for its sanctity even where the highest literary culture prevails. It is, however, an art founded on true science when men like Demosthenes have trained the modulations of their voice to the accompanying notes of the flute; a practice commended by Cicero in his treatises upon oratory. This association of music with oratory was most marked in the chorus or interlude of the drama as constructed by iEschylus, Sophocles and Euripides. The vocation of the chorus or choir, chanting between the acts of the drama accompanied by instrumental music the history which connected and illustrated the scenes preceding and succeeding, took naturally the designation, "histrionic art." It was a natural suggestion of later times that music joined with the histrionic art only in the interlude by the Greeks should be united with speaking and acting throughout the whole play. When the musical accompaniment was set to the words of a drama, and the recitation was an unexcited chant much like a dramatic reading without special acting on the part of the performers, it took the appropriate name of an "oratorio;" because it was a quiet address like that of a suppliant in prayer to his God, or of a preacher addressing his auditory. When there were added in the oratorio the accompaniments of stage representation, scenery, dresses, and the gestures and action of the stage, the performance took the name of "opera;" the opera being as the name implies the gathered treasures of all arts addressing the ear, and their skillful union into one complete whole. 60 ELEMENTS OF BEAUTY IN FORM. CIIAPTER IV. TIlE SENSE OF SIGHIIT, THiE HIGHIEST OF THIE SENSES, AS ADDRESSED BY ART. THE eye is the special organ by which art addresses the mind. The range of the pleasures of the ear is limited; for the music that falls with such mellowness at a slight remove from its source is soon lost by increasing distance. On the other hand, the stretch of vision is into regions without bound. Again, the variety in objects of beauty occupying but a small space around, seems perfectly limitless; while there are, in comparison, but few varieties in the natural tones, even of music, that address the ear. Most of all, while the addresses of sound are essentially one in kind, there are several separate sources of delight in objects of sight, such as form, color, relation, which make their own distinct and peculiar appeal to our esthetic nature. A classification of the elements of visual impressions pleasant to the mind is essential in the criticism of works of art. SECT. 1. FORM; ITS PRINCIPLES AND TIIEIR CONCURRENCE AS THE GROUNDWORK OF ART. In forms which delight us varied characteristics are to be observed. Some are minutely apprehended by the eye near at hand, as the parts of flowers and the features of the human countenance; others are but dimly comprehended in the distance, as the sweep of towering mountains, the swell of the ocean in the horizon and the blue arch of the sky. Some are of fixed form, as plants and animals, the sun and separate stars; others are of figure unfixed, as rocks and star-clusters; while others still are of undefined and indefinable outline, as waves and clouds. Of fixed forms again there are mineral, vegetable, animal, and human; the first having only regularity of structure, the second adding also life, the third self-motion, and the fourth intelligence, to give to them their special attraction. The outtline of all forms is composed of lines straight or curved. The lines of crystallization, of a beam of light, of upward growth in plants, and of motion in falling bodies are straight lines. In plants 6 61 ART CRITICISAIM. and nmmals there is a union of curved witlh straight lines; the trunkl of evely tree and the liiiib of every animial laving its lengthl in straight lines atid its eirCUmf'clreCiiee in crved lies. Straight lines imeet at angles forniing brioken lines or polygons; and curves may be regular, as circular, elliptical, parabolic and spiral; or ilrlegulair, as wavingi, serpentine and convoluted. An outline is but a combination of lines enclosing a space. Formi is conceived as possessed of three dimensions; thoughl but two are apparent to the eye. Figure is properly the conception of the designinig mind as distinct firom the embodied object; while foirm is the actually executed olject of which figure was the conception. AWe speak, therefore, of figures in rhetoric, but of forms in art. The word figure is also ap)plied to representations or modifications by art of natural objects; as when we speakl of mathemiatical figures, or of the figure of a i.man or womtan whose form is modified by dress. Fornii, therefore, is the generic term expressing the ele menets of extension in objects of sighlt giving plleasant impressions to the eye. Several distinct elements of forms in nature furnishl each its re spective deli,ght. The mind seems to observe these in the following older. Fir'st. Outliie it si(l)st(iitce.-Sublstance alone imay arrest attention and give pleasure; as iwhen we gaze in admniration on the green sea or- blue sky, on the black thunder-cloud or the rosy dawn. 'When, hlowever, the eye traces the outline of a billow, a cloud, a horizon line, or a rock, however indistinct, indefinite and figmentaryi the foirm, the mere olttl;Je ii sl()st(tzice gives us pleasure. Scco)I(i.- U~tity iii -,Ilti)licifty. -The mind has an oppressive sense of discomfort when eonfu;ced objects are )passing before it, and it can give no unity to their foirms. Dimi glimpses through the fog of an occasional headland along the coast give uneasiness to the miind; but a thrill of delight is felt when the miist is lifted and the miultiplied folirms along, the shore are taken in as a whole. Crowds of people without order throtging the streets have little attraction; but columns of mien in military?t1?formi arrest the ga.ze. Tli,'i.' J'ccj7/.Tit/t, i (?o.~)ie)t(XtOJ. —ineis made by one rule, as circl es or parabol as, are called regular. Figures iniade up of struigllt lines of eith e r I-)r parts, as squares or hexagons, or of uiforimly recurrn ag parts, as rectan,les, are regqtlar figures. The 62 EI,LEME,NTS OF BEAUTY IN FORM. five re,'lt7r(r bodic.<. thle cube bounded by six squares, the dodecah1( %lT( by- twelve equal lrhonibs, and tle lpyraiiiid, octohlledronl and eko,iliedl.on respectively by foui, ei,ght and twenty equilateral triangles, we re e,garded by P'lato as the forms of thle ultimate elemients making up the great Cosiuos" or " Universe of Beauty." Thle four iegulatr curves foirmed by cutting sections tlirough a cone, tlhe circle, the ellipse, the parabola, and hyperbola, were known to the ea-rly Greeks, and the admirable law of their formation was calculated: their beautiful sweep entered as an element into Pythlago)ras' conception of the harmony of the universe; and Galileo and Sir Isaac Newtoii saw in themi a principle of truth and beauty whichl led them to the secret of the miechanismi of the universe. J';eti'th: S'i,iplicity iu l(iety.i-The principle of simplicity re.ijects every'idjuict which disguises the formi of the simple object to which it is attached. The head-dress in fashion a century ago is hideous to iuodern eyes; but the silmple central parting of the hair in firont, its strailght coiinbiiing to the formi of the head, and its collection in a plain knot behind, won the admiration of the Greek artist as a perfect ideal, and drew forth the enconiiuins of Roman poets, because of its inherent beauty. There is a grandeur in the miaijestic dole of St. Peter's at Romec; there is sublimity in the sky-piercing pinnacles of the Gothie cathedral at Strasburg; but the inimitable simplicity of the plain Grecian gable won firom Cicero the colmment' that it was worthy to be the model for temples in heaven.'' That adjustmitent of drapery or dress which mnakes the forim seemi to round out in all its own loveliness as thlrough a transparent veil, is one of the chief charims of beauty inll formii. F~ftA.' Oi,(le i) the collocation of p)(rts.- Order relates not like the preceding principles to an object as a whole; but it expresses ithe relation which parts considered as imaking up a whole have to each other. Order, as to furniture in a roollm, requires that each piece be in a place peculiarly its own; in a company of mien it may dep)end on age, or size, or likeness of pursuits. In the grouping of a picture or of a landscape order relates to the collocation of parts which miake the whole conslpire to one effect. ,$1.- 15l)o)tioii in (dli)te)'sioiis.-Proportion is not the rielati,n of parts to a whole, but of parts not of the saiie class to each other. Thus the three portions of the humian finger are proportionIal; the ratio of each to its success,ir as to length being sesqui 63 ArRT CRITICISM. alteral, or that of one to one and a half. The arms considered with relation to each other are titiform; but, when regarded as of different classes, the arms and legs are propor-tioiiate in length. The parts of a building are well proportioned when any two parts of the structure seem to be in keeping as to their dimensions. The columus of a portico compared with each other are uniform; but when the foot, shaft, and capital are compared with each other, or the whole column with the entablature above, they are said to be well or ill proportioned. Seveieth: Symmnetry in the connection of parts.-The literal meaning of the Greek word "sumnnletronL" is, an inter-measlire; and implies that one part of a whole is taken as a standard of commnon measurement for all the other parts. While order relates to the collocation of parts in the whole, and proportion to the respective dimensions of each part in its relation to each other part, symmetry relates to the graduation in measuremnent of all the parts connected in a whole to the dimensions ofone taken as the standard. When we say of two limbs of a statue that they are in proportion, we think of them mainly in but one dimension. WVe could not say that two limbs were in symmetry; we must take in the entire figure, if we use at all that specific word, and say "the whole body is symmetrical;" and in so saying, we should regard rotundity, the thickness and plumpness of muscle, as well as length of bony framework, and also the interlockings and blendings of each limb. The idea of symmetry led the Greek artist to the simplest of common measures, the nail, finger, foot, cubit, pace, fathom, in studying the proportions of the child, the youth, the maiden, the matron and of the miature man; by following which they made their works true ideals, the models for all future time. ~Eighth: Coagrnit(/l in the adtptation of parts.-Congruity relates to physical adaptation, propriety to moral appropriateness. Congruity requires that all the parts of an object have an office, and that in size and position they be adapted to that office. It is an incongruity in Egyptian sculpture that a flaring head-dress should be cut in solid stone whose weight is enough to cause the wearer to sink under the burden; and that in Ptomnan art a Mercury should have miniature wings projecting from his ankles and head, which could serve no purpose because they could have no muscular attachments. Congruity requires that in taking a portrait the pos 64 ELEMENTS OF BEAUTY IN COLOR. ture, dress, insignia of an office or implements of a trade should be in keeping with the character of the subject represented. Ancient and modern writers as Plato and Aristotle, Kames and Alison, discuss at length the elements of beauty thus considered. To commit them to memory in the order of nature is of practical utility in the criticism of art. SECT. 2. COLOR; ITS ELEMENTS, AND THEIR CO-OPERATION AS THE ACCESSORIES OF ART. In color as in form there.is a natural order in which the elements which pleasurably impress the mind present themselves to our thloughlt. When an object breaks first on our view, we seek to trace its outline; we consider whether it be one, and if one whether it be simple; if made up of parts, we notice their order, then their proportion as to each other, and then the symmietry of the whole; and finally we judge of the congruity or fitness of all the parts, so far as their form is concerned, to accomplish some design. In the observation of color as pleasantly affecting the mind, the order of thought may perhaps be resolved into the following. First: Determinate, ess of IlIte.-When we gaze by day into the heavens and see nothing but the light azure produced by the. direct sunlight, or at night study the dark blue black of the faintest diffused light still present even at midnight, simple color has its pleasing charm. In the rich gold and purple of evening twilight, which has no background to make it stand out, and no form firoom which it is reflected, it is the determinateness of the varying yet positive hue which, like outline in substance, is the source of pleasure to the eye. Second: Purity of Colors in themselves considered.-When color so far develops itself as to take a perceptible hue, the eye and the mind of the savage or cultured man desire that, whatever be the color of an object, it be clear, unmixed and unspotted. It demands, first, that it show nothing but its own hue; second, that it be not muddied with the tinge of foreign hues; and third, that it be not soiled by scattered spots and irregular lines of another color. The savage is as much dissatisfied with a dull or a faded color, or by a stain on his mantle, as is the most fastidious belle in polished society. When increased culture leads to a preference for the graver hues, the artist calls the pure clear tint resulting from the 6 * 65 ART CRITICISM. admixture of colors in their regular proportions "lively" hues; while dispropoortionate nmixtures he desi,gnates as "dirty" colors. Wihzatever be the hue which taste selects, it demands purity in color as it does unity in form. Tltii-(: Eteitiess of b)ody.-Viewed alone, color must be pure in order to please. Color, however, is an attribute of substance; its richness depends on the substances it adorns; and evenness of color is a feature akin to regularity of form. A grove with foliage alike green and lively, a house whose paint is either all fresh or all sobered by age, are types in common observation of what the eye demands in higher art. Foit,th: Distiitctie)less il C7taiacter.-As simplicity in fornm so distinctiveness in color impresses, because it brings out the special character of the object painted. The sky is recognized as clear, or cold, or sunlit, when its hue is blue, or gray, or rosy; the sea is known to be calm, or ruffled, or raging, according as it mirrors the varied colors of objects above it, or reflects its own green from its thin and half transparent wave crests, or absorbs all light at the black base of its swollen billows and transmits all light from the white transparence of their attenuated tops. Among the varied flowers and fruits and leaves that cover the earth as a carpet, and even throughout all the varieties of beasts and birds and of human beings, fur and hair, and even flesh tint, has, in each class, if not in each individual, its own peculiar characteristic. Art must catch these precise hues or fail in its aim. Fifth: Accord(iace il juxtaposition. -As notes sounded together and as lines taken in at the same angle of vision, so colors viewed in immediate juxtaposition must have due proportion in order to produce accord. A house painted red, glowing amid the shade of the country, does violence to an instinctively recognized law of accord in colors. On the other hand, nothing can excel the charm of the rainbow, in whose arch the red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet succeed each other in an order that is pleasing, not simply because it is common or natural, but because we are made for it, and it for us. ,Sixth:.IT(r?oio,s,io7tsis as a whole i, the assoc'eit/;o of colors. Thoulgh two notes struck together make discorid, the same two struck separately but successively may produce harmonoy. So two lines or colors which, mleeting the eye together, produce a dis.agree 66 BLENDING AND PROPRIETY OF IIUES. able impression of jarring on the vision, may, when distributed at fit intervals, and of proportionate breadths, give harioiiny to the whole. In the rainbow it is not simply the order in which the colors succeed each other, but their grouping as a whole, the proportionate breadth, the adjusted place, the graduated vividness of each which produce the pleasant impression. In the varied hues of flowers, not overloading but simply studding the background of green, and in the distribution upon the light flesh color of the human face, of the ruby of the lips, of the ivory white of eyeballs and teeth, and of the dark lines of eyebrows and eyelash, there is just that amount of contrast which gives greatest completeness to the whole. >SeLicth: Blesidi,ig it co)jttiict'o~i.-As modulation of voice in music is the easy transition by which tones melt and flow into one another, and as symmetry in form is the similar tapering and mortising and dovetailing of' parts into the one statue, so blending in colors is the imperceptibly varying shade, the nicely graduated cale of modified admixture by which one color flows into arind loses its own hue in that of its fellow. No possible line of distinct demarcation can be traced between the distinct colors of the rainbow; no flower has any point of separation between the white foot and the crilmson or purple tip of its petal; no single hair on an animal, or feather upon a bird, has at any part of its length a sudden transition in the var'ying shade, that, from its root outward, grows darker to its tip. Wlheln the artist in his effort at copying nature imitates her perfect work in this respect, every eye is conscious that the imperceptible blending of' hues and shades into each other is one of the elements of the pleasure derived from beholding color. E~ghtth: At))roprbitte)iess to thte sl7)jdect.-As in'music expression gives soul to harmiony, and in form congruity makes things to be real, not made up, so appropriateness of color gives its subject the chief attribute of living beingt,s, which is life itself. This principle even in sculpture and architecture controls the selection of color in the nmaterial used; and in landscape-gardening, it guides as to the amount an(l character of foliage introduced. In p)ainting it seeks the tower of givingtr to each object its own specific tinge, so that the eye without thought sees the tiling itself throu,ghl the deception of accurate coloring. In decorative art it decides between the claims 67 ART CRITICIS,S. of material and subject; demanding, for instance, that an iron cemetery gate representing a lamb under a willow shall all be bronze or black, and not allowing that the tree be colored green and the lamb white. The classification here suggested may intimate to the student of art the value of analysis in his own impressions as to color. SECT. 3. FIXED RELATION; THE ASSOCIATION OF OBJECTS PRE SENTED AS AT REST. The impressions of beauty produced by form and color relate to a single object. The statue, however, with its exquisite form must stand on something resting upon the earth; the water lily with its attractive color floats on a liquid bed; the fleecy cloud flits and rocks in an airy cradle; and even the moon, rolling so far off, is held in its place by some power. In considering the beauty of any conceivable object its relations will force themselves into thought and give character to our aesthetic impressions. When the relations of an object begin to come into review the mind resolves them into natural classes. Considered as at rest, objects have certain fixed relations; and regarded as acted upon by forces within or without, physical or spiritual in their nature, the same objects have changing relations; which relations, fixed or changing, enter as elements into our estimate of beauty. The principal relations, so fatr as art is concerned, of objects considered as at rest are comprehended under the ideas of place, time, quantity, and number; while those of objects regarded as changing are motion, life, action and emotion. The idea of space suggests that of place; for when two objects are considered, each has its position in relation to the other. Next arises the idea of balance. When a single object is dimly seen in the mist, we look for the foot on which it rests; as the ancient Arabian inquired after the "balancing of the clouds." As no beauty of form can overcome our unpleasant nervousness when a noble man or fair woman is seen in a position exposing them to a fall, so a building, a statue, or even a figure painted upon canvas produces an unpleasant impression, destructive of the idea of beauty, when it seems insecure because unbalanced; of which the leaning tower of Pisa is an illustration As balance in one object, so relative position in two or more ob 68 PI,LACE, QUANTITY AND NUM[BER IN ART. jeets is to be observed. In painting the law of perspective makes the central figure foremost and prominent, because nearer the bellolder. The Greeks in ranging a group of statuary in the pediment of a temple, placed the central figure under the roof-peak on a throne; while the remaining figures, as the diminishing height allowed, were represented, first standing, then seated, and finally reclining. This law led Hogarth to contend that all groups in both sculpture and painting should be pyramidal in shape; the central figure having the larger proportions, especially in historical composition. Next to the relation of place comes that of quantity. As proportion and symmetry should be regarded in a single object, so there is a due comparison in the size of objects grouped as a whole. The interior of St. Peter's, like Niagara, seems at first dwarfed because every part is alike colossal; but when each feature is separately comprehended the stupendous whole assumes its just grandeur, because of the due proportion in each part. On the other hand, when Phidias made his colossal statue of Minerva hold her spear in one hand and a statue of Victory in the other, it was true art to swell the spear shaft till it seemed a beam, and to dwarf the statue to the natural proportions of about six feet in stature. In an historical painting the central figure may occupy too much space, as in some of Rubens', or too little as in Trumbull's; while again the effort to give breadth to two distinct and distant scenes in one group may mnar the effect of even such a masterpiece as Raphael's Transfiguration. Last among fixed relations is that of number. In art, as in nature, a small range limits the view; and when the number of objects contemplated becomes indefinite and without limit, the emotion of beauty is lost in confusion of mind. The ancient observers clustered the stars in groups of "seven," "eleven" and "twelve." The scene of all others on earth most tragic, the crucifixion, may have too many figures introduced, as in that of Titian, who was seeking the effects of color; or it may have too few, as in masterpieces of Florentine artists who were striving after the higher effect of form. The relations of objects as fixed, or at rest, have been observed by writers of every age. Aristotle asks, "Why the bodies of deformed men look larger proportionally than those that have syil 69 ART CRITICISM-. inetry:' and his ireply is, " T'hat symiiietirical forms are naturally vie-wed as one, while the limbs of the deformned nian seemn parts of different bodies, and hence appear to occupy iliore space." Lord Kanies mentions a like effect in the divisions of a flowel garden, or of fields in a level country. SECT. 4. CHIANCGING RELATION; TIIE DISPOSITION OF OBJECTS REPRESENTED AS IN MTOTION. There is motion in inanimate ol}jects, or those without lif2; the rain fallling, the rivers flowin.g, the tides rolling, the clouds flying, the mountain rocks tumbling, and the volcano heaving; while beyond the earth, mloons, planets, and starry suns, all seein coursing in their circlcs through the heavens. It is because "all things are full of labor" that poets and artists have believed that all thlings are " beautiful in their time." 5Iotion in unoirganized matter is produced firom without. The plant builds itself iup; animials have the power of physical locoinotion; while man, gifted with intellect, sensibility and will, has selfaction both of body and of mnind. 3Totion is produced by 1)owzcer; which is either p7hysical or nmoral; and the idea of power leads to that of caitse. Causation implies intelligent pl.r7)ose; which always miust originate with a perso12al bec)ig. The subject of changing relation, therefore, in its beariing upon art leads to the different classes of motion and emotion which may be represented(, to the methods of art by which they nmay be presented to the eye, and to the study of design by which works of art are adapted to awaken any desired impression. Chlange, produced by mnotion, suggests the idea of t;)me; emibracing considerations relating to clav and night, to suimmer and winter, to ages of nan's life and of the world's history. If the tinie chosen by a painter be noon, he imust give appropriate length and direction to his shadows; and if it be winter the decidluous trees miust be bare and the pines clothed with foliage. If the scene be the visit of Eastern iNIagi to the babe Jesus, the stable mIust not be of modern carpentry and the costumes niedit al. 3lotion, which in nature is real, can only be represented in art; except in landscape gardening. 3lerc motion in any solid body gives delilght; the infant being pleased with a stick shaken before it, the boy with the skipping of a stone or the bouliding, of a ball, 70 MIOTION REPRESEXTED IN ART. and imature men with the whirl of machinery, the rush of a railvway train, the coursing of a vessel at sea, or even with the lazy drag of a cart or a plough. The delight we take in such movements ii propiortioned to the regularity of their speed, and to their line of direction whether straight or curved. In the motion of aftitid the perfect ease with which the particles miove upon each other, as well as the gentle curving of its lines of movemient, gives delight. The swift rush of the mountain torrent, the gentle meandering of a river in low lands, the glistening spheres of falling rain, the parabolic curves of the fountain-jet an'd waterfall present a beauty of motion which solid bodies cannot equal. Even the air moving in columns, the ever-changing forms of clouds flying and of trees waving before the breeze, have an inspiring charm. The representation by the artist of any form of motion awakens delight, as trees bending or smoke wreathing before the wind. The picturing of the attitudes of motion in animate beings has a yet higher chlarmi. Indeed a mere implement of motion, suggestive of the idea, a boat-oar lying on a sandy beach as truly as a bear in a forest, a sheep on a lawn, or Adam surrounded by groups of aniimals as he is nanming them, by its imiplying a more studied design and holding the position of superiority among subordinates, becomes a centre of attraction. In Grecian sculpture, the representation of corporeal action is the very perfection of art; as is seen in the visible shrinking of modesty in the Venus de eIcdici, and in the advancing attitude and strain of linib in the Apollo Belvidere hurling his arrow. The great success of the German painters, as compared with those of Southern Europe, is the amount of motion, of life, of changingi relation, they crowd upon their canvas. SECT. 5. PHYSICAL COINCIDENCE; THE LAW OF HARMONIOUS PRO PORTION BET'EEN TONES PLEASING TO THE EAR AND FORMS AND COLORS AGREEABLE TO THE EYE. Though in somie respects speculative, the study of physical coincidence between the impressions made by sight and sound has commended itself to the ablest minds of every age; many of whom has e believed that the laws of beauty like those of truth may be so reached that the artist may attain to a science in the former as in It I ART CRITICISM. the latter field. Philosophers as well as poets have believed in an age of human advancement of which it might be said: " There thou shalt learn the secret power Of harmnony in tones, and numbers hit By voice or hand." Ancient philosophy suggested, and modern science has established, that the impressions of sight coming from form and color are produced by vibratory waves in ether; as sound is the result of similar waves in the air. Common taste among men has recognized that the proportions of a door or window are pleasing when the length is to the breadth as two to one, or as three to two; while if they be as nine to eight it is specially displeasing. Since these are the sauie proportions which in the length of vibrating cords produce accordant or discordant impressions, it is natural to infer that the vibrating waves in ether, conming from lines that subtend different angles of vision having different breadths, may harmonize or clash like air-waves with one another. Again, the investigations of Sir David Brewster and others have established that the waves of light producing different color impressions are of different breadths. When in a crack made by a blow upon ice the narrowest part of the aperture is black, while bands of violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange and red succeed each other till the white transparence appears, it is a natural inference that the waves of ether producing these colors are of the breadth of the aperture from whose space these special colors are reflected. These waves producing colors pleasing in juxtaposition are found to be of a breadth kindred in their proportions to air-waves pleasantly affecting the ear. There is then a coincidence between the impressions of sight and sound. Pythagoras, who discovered the law of inter-measurement in the length of cords producing harmonious sounds, believed he had reached a similar measure for harmonious proportions of length and breadth in objects addressing the eye; and hence he named the highest note of the scale neate after the moon, the body bound to the centre by the shortest cord, and the lowest note he called hypate, after Saturn, as the planet bound to the centre by the longest cord. Plato in his Republic says that "as the eyes seem to be fitted for the harmonious proportions of the celestial orbits, so the ears seem to be fitted for the harimony of musical intervals; i 2 HtARMONY BETWEEN'TIlE EAR AND EYE. and these seem to be sister sciences; as the Pythagoreans indeed affirm, and we must accord with them." Aristotle, when speak ing of colors produced by admixture, says: "These miay subsist in the same manner as mnusical symphonies; for, like miusical symphlonies, colors which correspond most nearly to their proportionate numbhers are those which appear to be the mnost delightful colors." "It is for want of this skillfully adjusted proportion that, as there are but few delightful symphonies, so there are but few delightful colors. " In modern times Galileo revived this idea. Fond from childhlood of imusic and drawing, a remark of his father that "drawing and imusic had their principles in the relations of numbers as taught in the iiiathemiatics,'' gave a new bent to all his life's labor. Sir I.aac Newvton had his attention turned to this analogy; and wrote, "I ani inclined to believe sonime general laws of the Creator prevailed with respect to the agieeable or unpleasing affections of all our senses; at least the suggestion does not derogate fiom the wisdoi'i or power of God, and secms highly consonant to the sinmplicity of the mnicrocosmi in general." Ta-kiig up the principles of these great philosophers, Hay, an English artist, has drawn out an elaborate system of harmonies in form; while Ungier, a Germani critic, has applied them to color. Mlr. Hay's first position is, " That the eye is influenced in its estimation of spaces by a simplicity of proportion similar to that which guides the ear in its appreciation of sounds." His second position is, " That the eye is guided in its estinmate of dimensions by direction rather than distance, by angular rather than linear proportion; just as the ear is guided by number rather than magnitude of sounds." The substance of' his theory therefore is, "That a figure is pleasing to the eye in the same degree as its fundamental angles bear to each other the same proportions that the vibrations bear to one another in the common chords of miusic." The conclusion at which he thus arrives is stated in the following emphasized sentence: "Thus the eye is capable of appreciating the exact subdivision of space just as the ear is capable of appreciating the exact subdivision of intervals of time; so that the division of space into an exact number of equal parts will esthetically affect the mnind through the mediuiii of the eye, in the same way that the division of the time of vibrations in music into an exact number 73 7 D ART CRITICISM. of equal parts aesthetically affects the mind through the medium of the ear." Following out these principles, Hlay has with most elaborate comparison and collation of numerous measurements of the human frame, drawn up scales of established angles of harmony; showing also their analogy to those ruling in musical harmony. In like manner, Unger of Gottingen, tracing through the exhaustive deductions of Frauenhofer as to the breadth of' waves in ether producing the impressions of the different colors, has drawn out a similar scale of harmonious proportions; showing also a kindred analogy to the proportions giving the sweetest of iiusical harmonies. Froiom these historical facts AWinckelmnann, the eminent Germani art-critic, argues; " It is probabl)le that the Grecian, like the ELgyvl)tian artists had rules by which not only the greater but the smaller proportions of the body were accurately determined; and that the length, breadth, and circumference of parts suitable to each age and station were laid down with precision and taught in the writings of those artists who treated of symmetry." It is an interesting confirmation of this view that while the two arts representative of these two departments, drawing and music, are naturally ad mired by the same class of minds, when the one cannot be enjoyed the other takes its place. Deaf-miutes have as instinctive a fondness for drawing as the blind have for music; a hint of great importance in the education of the former. SECT. 6. MORAL CORRESPONDENCE; TIlE HARMONY BETWEEN OBJECTS PRESENTED AND IDEAS REPRESENTED IN ART. Lord IKames states an important distinction between the ideas of congruity and propriety. Congruity relates to fitness and appropriateness of one material object to another. Thus when the naked African chief, donning the east-off military coat of an English officer given to him, struts like a peacock in this single article of dress, we speak of the?'ncongr?tity between the scarlet coat and the naked form of the black savage; but in speaking of the nudity of the savage we should use the word impropmcty. While the Greek philosophers, Socrates, Plato and Aristotle, dwelt with delight on the physical coincidences which made art a power to please, they urged that as its higher aini, art be made to correspond to true convictions of moral propriety, because of its 74 M[ORA.L PROPRIETY IN AR rT. power for good or evil on youth and nien of mature age. The Iso mian critics. as Cicero the Eclectic, Cato and Seneca the Stoics and even Hlorace and Juvenal who leaned to Epicurean notions, discussed especially the moral bearings of art, urging the demland of prop)riety niore than of congruity in works of art. Horace, inll his "Ars Poetica," makes a question of congruity in the Egyptian sh)liynx a key to his criticisms relating to the moral proprieties belong,ing to compositions in literature and art. As might be anticipated, the allusions to art which fill the Old and New Testament Scriptures relate to its moral proprieties as a power for good. Thle applications of this principle of moral correspondence in art are varied and numerous. Moral propriety demands truth ill position; requiring ease and security in the attitude of nien represented as swaying to and firo under excited feeling; an attainmient of gradual growth in the early stages of the revitval of art in Italy. Moral propriety requires truth in respect to time; censuring alnaclironisnis; a principle which the secluded lives, and especially the -reverence for ecclesiastical precedents common to Italian artists of the best age, has led them to overlook in the dress, attendants and other accessories introduced into their representations of' the life of Christ. Both congruity and propriety, not to mention other inioral convictions, are opposed to that nmutilation and transpoitation of works of ancient art which cause those exquisitely wrought gems to be viewed out of their proper position; a fact sensibly impressed upon the visitor to the detached and fiagmentary speciniens of bas-reliefs wrested firom the cornices of Egyptian and Grecian temples, and gathered in the London and Paris collections of art; a principle which is still more deeply felt when the traveler's eye rests on the voids in the original structures, lonely and voiceless on their native soil, from whose walls have been cut and pried out the select portions of those masterpieces of ancient art. Congruity and propriety, too, are the essential elements of separate excellences, such as that of grace, in works of art. While, for instance, there is the rarest grace in a weary Hercules leaning on his club, in an exhausted dancing girl resting on her seat, and in a panting warrior reclining at full length on the ground, nothing could be more tLe opposite of true grace than the attitude of a belle or courtier lounging in ill-disguised ennui. 75 ART CRITICISIf. CHAPTER V. TIE FACULTIES OF THE HUMAN MIND AS AFFECIED BY ART. IN all human impressions two things are to be regarded; the niind on which the impression is made and the object without the mind which makes the impression. The external object and the senses through which it is perceived hliaving been first considered, it is natural to bend back the mind's thought upon itself and to analyze its impressions as well as the thinking power which experiences these impressions. Without this consideration of the power itself which he employs, the practical artist miay use with a large share of success his mental faculties in designing and executing works of art. Without it, however, the student of art, not himself a practical artist, can gain no consistent knowledge; while moreover the artist himself mnay add indefinitely to the skill with which he can wield his powers, when, like the master in the mechanic arts he can frol knowledge of its nature, mould and adapt the instrument with which he works. This Plato, ignorant of the practice but miaster of the theory of art, intimated in the inquiry, "Indeed then do those imien seem to you to differ fromn blind mnen who in reality are destitute of theoretic knowledge; who, neither have in their own souls a distinct ideal, nor like painters looking, above themlselves to the true ideal, always referring their own conceptions to it and contemplating it with the greatest accuracy possible, are enabled, in this department as in those others, to establish just rules of the beautiful, as of the right and of the good?" In this consideration these natural divisions will be observed. The general impression produced on the human mind by works of art is entitled "Beauty;" and the power of the nmind both to appreciate and to create objects of beauty is styled "Taste." Each of these, the impression and the power, miay be considered separate from its object, or in the abstract; and each in connection with its object, or in the concrete; while the comparative strength both of the power and of its impression in different beings and classes of mien is naturally a concluding inquiry. 7 -r) 'rHE NATUPRE OF THIE BEAUTIFUL. SECT. 1. BEAUTY IN THE ABSTRACT; OR TIlE NATURE OF OUR IDEA OF THE BEAUTIFUL. As to the essential nature of our idea of the Beautiful there has been far greater unanililmity than would be apparent to one fidlillg to discrimin ate between beauty in the abstract and beauty in tlhe concrete. Even upon the latter point of consideration, opiiioii.s discordant at first view assume a degree of harmony when priliciples maintained by differing theorists are put into tbeir legitimate connections. The distinction between the four elementary principles of huiiian apprehension, the true, thle beautiful, the good, the right, has been recognized by leading philosophers in all ages and of the miost opposite schools. It niay be illustrated by a simple examiple. If any one beholdilg an apple on a miantel should say, "That is a trite apple," he would be understood as referring to the essence or substance of the apple as the juicy pulp constituting the real fruit, in oppwition to a fictitious representation of it in wax or marible.. If he should say, "That is a beautiful apple," he would be sulpposed to refer to the form and color as conveying a pleasant impression; an idea, entirely aside from any consideration as to the material of which it is composed. If again he should say "That is a good apple," he would as manifestly refer to the (d(,rpt(itioa of the real or fictitious firuit; the one as a til?e apple to afford by its substance gratification to the palate and health to the digestive organs, and the other to give pleasure as b.cait/f,il by its formi and color addressing the eye, and through it the mind. If he should say, yet again, "That is a right apple," every hearer would feel that violence was done to the common meaning of language. The principle of right does not respect the essence of the apple as true, its form as beauti.ful, nor its adaptation as good; it can only be ascribed to an emotion, desire, or act which a human being may exercise in reference to the apple as possessing either of these qualities. This general distinction of these four elementary conccl)tions is of universal application; as when of a mental or morial quality or exercise, we say, "That was a true, a beautiful, a good act." The (luestions, "What is beauty?" "Why is a thing beautifll?" Socrates argued are irrationial. Abstract terms cannot be 7* 7 t' ART CRITICISM. defined to a mind that has not already the idea which they ex])iress. If it be asked, " What is truth, beauty, goodness and right?" it can only be stated; truth is that which in the essence of a thing corresponds with the convictions of our understanding; beauty is that which in the qnelitics of an object affords pleasure to our sensibilities; goodness is that in the relation of one thing to another, which secures the welfare or promotes the interest of the latter; and right is that in the act of an intelligent being which coITesponds with our conviction of the responsibility of one moral being to another. If these attempts at definition seem inadequate, it must be remembered that there is the same difficulty in defining by simpler language any abstract term; as the word white or round, equality or justice. Thus Plato, after mentioning that right, goodness, honor, miagnitude, strength, health, " are all abstract things," adds: "We speak of things as equal, or unequal. We not only see one stick as equal to another stick, and one stone as equal to another stone. but, besides, we think of equality in itself, as separate Phd real. Now where do we acquire this knowledge? Not from the sticks or stones; for these are strictly equal. Equality is not the same as equal things. But yet from seeing equal things we think of equality." When asked why I believe that an object which I see exists, that two lines cannot enclose space, that every effect has an adequate cause, and why I regard certain lines and tints beautiful, I can only say that I am so made that I cannot but so regard them. As to the essential nature of beauty in the abstract, the thought of mankind has been remarkably coincident. Lucan, the Roman poet, says: "The idea of beauty is the same among nations in their decline and in their infancy." Augustine, the Christian philosopher, says: "If we both see that to be true which you say is true, and both see that to be true which I say is true, where, I ask, do we see it? Neither do I see it in you, nor you in me; but both in that which is above ouir mninds, in the unchangeable verity itself." The reasoning of modern writers, such as Locke, Iiames, Reid. Burke, Alison and others ill Engla(nd, of IKatnt in Germany, and of Cousin in France, mighi t be quoted at leniigth substantially to the salne point. Thus Ruskin remarks, "Why some forms and colors are beautiful is as unknown as why sugar is sweet, and 78 TASTE AS A FACULTY OF THE MIND. wormwood is bitter." Alluding then to the fact that our Creator has made men with a comnion inmpression of' beauty, lie adds, "We nlay, indeed, perceive as far as we are acquainted with His nature, that we have been so constructed as, when in a healthy and cultivated state of miind, to derive pleasure firoim whatever things are illustrative of that nature; but we do not receive pleasure from them because they are illustrative of it, but instinctively and necessarily; as we derive sensual pleasure fiom the scent of a rose." SECT. 2. TASTE; OR THE POWER OF TIlE MIND WVHICH GIVES ORIGIN TO THE IDEA OF TIlE BEAUTIFUL. The four conceptions of the true, the beautiful, the good and the righit are naturally referred to distinct powers of the mind. The" power by which man recognizes abstract truth has in all age been expressed by a woid corresponding to the ELglish term reason; while the faculty which discerns right has as unifb)rmly been called by the name coascicace. The good, or adaptation in things, may be referred to that power which in animals and man has, as distinct from reason, been called "instinct." To the power by which the mind apprehends the second of these ideas, the beaut/fidl, modern, popular language, as well as modern philosophy, has consecrated the word "Taste." It is a designation borrowed from the quickest and most controlling though most corporeal of the human senses. The ancient Asiatic patriarch employed it to express the instinctive power of the mind in discerning both the right and the true; asking at one time, "Is there iniquity in lmy tongue? Cannot my taste discern perverse things?" and again inquiring, "Doth not the ear try words, even as the mouth tastes its mieat?" In the Greek and Latin tongues a similar tropical signification was given to the word by such writers as Sophocles and Pindar, Cicero and Quinctilian; Sophocles speaking of "testing a truth by the tongue; " Pindar of "tasting the sweets of song;" Cicero of" the taste for literary studies," and Quinctilian of the rhetorical "taste of the city." From those ancient tongues the siame word used in the saie figurative signification has passed to their modern successors, as the Italian and the French. About the middle of the eighteenth centuly, Pteid, the Scotch metaphysician, followed by Kames, Burke and Alison, fixed the use of the LEnglish word "Taste" to designate the power by which the mind recognizes beauty; while 79 ART CRITICISM. Kant, the German philosopher, brought into use the more classic name cesthetic sense or judgment. As to the office of this power of the mind, Plato in his Republic reasons: "As to the beautiful and the good in existing objects, we say, indeed, that they are seen by the eye and are not objects of intellectual perception; but we also say that the ideas themiselvcs of beauty and goodness are perceived by the intellect and are not seen by the eye." Of the two theories discussed in modern times Alison gives the following statement: "The first class is tlhat which resolves the emotion of taste into an original law of our nature: which supposes a sense or senses, by which the qualities of beauty and sublimity are perceived and felt as their appropriate objects; and concludes therefore that the genuine object of the arts of taste is to discover and to imitate those qualities in evely subject which the prescription of nature has thus made essentially either beautiful or sublime. To this first class of hypotheses belong aIlmost all the theories of music, of architecture and of sculpture; the theory of SIr. Hogarth, of the Abbe Winekelmann, and perhaps, in its last result, also the theory of Sir Joshua Reynolds. It is the species of hypothesis which is naturally resorted to by all artists and amateurs; by those whose habits of thought lead them to attend more to the causes of' their emotions than to the nature of the emotions themselves. The second class of hypotheses arises from the opposite view of the subject. It is that which resists the idea of any new or peculiar sense distinct from the common principles of our nature; which supposes some one known and common affection of mind to be the foundation of all the enmotions we receive from the objects of taste, and which resolves, therefore, all the various phenomena into some more general law of our intellectual or moral constitution. Of this kind are the hypothesis of 3I. Diderot, who attributes all our emotions of this kind to the perception of relation; of SIr. Ilume, who resolves them into our sense of utility; and of the venerable St. Austin, who, with nobler views, a thousand years ago resolved them into the pleasure which belongs to the perception of order and design. It is the species of hyipothesis lmost natural to retired and philosophic minds; to those whose habits have led them to attend more to the nature of the emotions they felt than to the causes which produced them." As to the nature of taste as an intuitive power of the mind re 80 PLATO'S ANALYSIS OF CONCRETE BEAUTY. 81 cognizing beautyt, Reid says, " The sense of beauty is an agreeable feeling or emotion accoiiipanied with an op)inion or judgiment of' soiiie excellence in the object which is fitted by nature to produce that fc ling Blair says,'" TIste is ultimately fboutided on an internial sense of beauty, which is natural to nien." Burke's statenmeat is, "I imcean by the word taste no more than the faculty or those faculties of the mind which are affected with, or which form a judgnent of, the works of imagination and the elegant arts." Ruskin, after arguing that taste is a power of the iiiind, distinct fi'omi judgmient which decides as to truth and that power unnamed which recognizes fitness, says of this power, "It is the instinctive and instant preferring of one material object to another without any obvious reason except that it is proper to human nature in its perfection to do so." SECT. 3. BEAUTY IN TIIE CONCRETE; OR THE ETLEMENTS IN OBJECTS WHIICH GIVE TIlE IMPRESSION OF BEAUTY. It is in concrete objects that beauty is seen by the ordinary eye. All language for abstract ideas is primarily drawn fromi the field of the concrete; as words expressive of spiritual ideas are derived firolm maiterial.objects. It was natural when Socrates asked, "WhI-at is beauty?" that his interlocutors should constantly make the mistake in reply of citing some beautiful object, as a bloomiing girl, or a masterpiece of statuary to express their conception.' We, for the same reason, use comparisons to illustrate our ideas; saying, "It was as beautiful as a rose; she was as fair as a lily; hle is as graceful as a gazelle." When any object gives us the impression of beauty, we instinctively think of the elements in the object which give this ilnpression. If a boy's marble, a cornelian and a diamond were togethler held up before a company of iiien or of children, of savages or of refined scholars, all would refer the beauty in each respectively to its foriii, color and lustre. In a spirited saddle-horse by the side of a pack-mnule, formi and color would be quoted as elements of beauty, with the additional quality of grace in motion. In a lovely young female the three classes of qualities already mentioned would still be referred to, with the additional element of expression in the eye revealing traits of intellectual and moral character. Into each of these successive exanples some new element enters to miake up what D I* ART CRITICISM. in each instance we designate by the general name beauty; and abstracting, the seceral elements in each case we can look for their counterpart elsewhere in natur'e, or seek to reproduce them iiill art. ,Ao.-t of the ancient Greek writers on beauty, Plato excepted, satisfy themselves with referring to objects of beauty in the concrete. Pythagoras taught that beauty is "unity in variety, and harniony in opposite qualities." Later Greek critics recognize beauty as a quality in objects distinct from both truth and goodness; while, nevertheless, though truth and goodness are not themselves beauty, they are indispensable associate principles. Thus Socrates having obtained two disconnected adlnissions that purple is the most beautiful color, and that the eye is the most beautiful part of the body, asks, "Why then do not painters add beauty to the eyes by painting them purple;" and having kept his weak antagonist perplexed a while he exclaims, "Wonderful critic! you do not imagine, do you, that in order to make the eyes more beautiful we should painit theml so that they would not appear to be eyes?" The power of simple goodness to give the impression of beauty is admirably illustrated byn a fancied or real conversation between Socrates, whose ugliness of form has passed into a proverb, and Alcibiades, who was a paragon of manly beauty. Alcibiades said to Socrates that in personal appearance he seemed to him like "the figures of Silenus," noted for his flabby and beast-like grossness, and, indeed, like "to the satyr Miarsyas," the eminent fluteplayer. characterized by his grimaces in blowing his instrument and added, "That in your outward appearance, Socrates, you reemblle those beings, you yourself will not deny." Meientioning then that in spite of his ugly aspect, he was irresistibly drawn to him and even admired his features, Socrates recognizes this as illustrating his principle of beauty; and exclaims, "What is that matchless beauty you could see in me so vastly superior to your own fine formi?" The special qualities which united produce the impression of beauty are graphically pictured by Plato as meeting in Cupid. "Love is... the most blessed of the gods; at once the most beautiful and the best." "IIe is very young and very delicate; and in addition to these qualities, he is of a most flexible form; otherwise he would not be able to entwine himself around every form." "Another great proof that his form excels in symmetry 82 MODERN STATEMENTS OF ELEMIENTS OF BEAUTY. 83 and flexibility is found in its gracefulness; which excellence Love confessedly possesses in a mannuer superior to all beiniigs." " IHis diet, too, on flowers points out the beauty of his color." A surpriising likeness in practical minds appears in their analysis of beauty. IHogarth on the title-page of his celebrated treatise, as the symbol of his theory, inscribed a triangle, within which he drew a serpent in the waving line which his body takes when moving. His idea, he says, is borrowed fiom MAIichel Angelo's mnaxim for his pupils, that figures should always be made " pyramidal, serpentine, and withl a ratio of increase by one, two and three." This maxiin, Ml. Angelo himself had borrowed from Aristotle's suggestion that " flaie, pyramidal in formn and serpent-like in its motioni, is most iidieative of life and symiibolic of spirit." Hogarth finds these principles in the Grecian and Roman gables, and in the waving lines introduced into their architectural ornaments; while in the group of Laocooin the same idea is so controlling that the two sons at the side of the father are lade of natural size, and the central figure colossal, so as to make the whole come within the triangle or pyranid. The admirable critic Beattie, finds the chief elements of beauty to reside in fornm, color and expression; united with the mnoral idea of suitableness, or fitness. Thus he says, "Colors are beautiful, fist when they convey to the nind a lively sensation, as white and red; second, when they chlerish the organ of vision, as green; thlird, when they have that character which we term delicacy, and yield a sensation both lively and gentle, as pale red and light blue. But, fourth, the beauty of color depends chiefly on the agreeableness of the ideas it conveys to the miind. The verdure of the fields, for instance, is deli,ghtful because it leads us to think of fruitfulness, firagrance, and miany other pleasant things; but greenness in the humb an face would be horrible because it would suggest the notion of pain, of disease, and of something unnatural." Again he says, "That which in the smallest compass exhibits the greatest variety of beauty is a fine human face. The features are of various sizes and forms; the corresponding ones are exactly uniform; and each has that shape, size, position, and proportion which is mnost convenient. Hlere, too, is the greatest beauty of colors, which are blended, varied and disposed with marvelous delicacy. But the chief beauty of the countenance arises front its expression." ATRT CRTTICISIM. Lord Kamies, a critic of the greatest acuteness, divides beauty into two species, ilitrinsic and relative. Rlelative beautty depends not on what the thing is in itself, but oi its relations to other things, its associations, its utility and its propriety. "Intrinsic beauty," lie says, "must be analyzed into its constitucnt parts. If a tree be beautiful by means of its color, its figure, its size, its motion, it is in reality possessed of so many different beauties; which ought to be examined separately, in order to have a clear notion of them when combined. The beauty of color is too familiar to need explanation." "The beauty of figure, arising from various circuinstances and di]'erent views, is more complex; for example, viewing any body as a whole, the beauty of its figure arises from regularity a'd simplicity; viewing the parts with relation to each other, unifoiriity, proportion and order contribute to its beauty. The beauty ot motion deserves a chapter by itself." The more elaborate Reid in presenting his analysis of beauty, says, " Our sense of beauty is resolvable into instilnctive and rational, and beauty itself into original and derived. " These he further analyzes thus: "The qualities of inanimate matter in which we perceive beauty are sound, color, form and motion; the first an object of hearing, the others of sight." "All that can be called beauty in the human species may be reduced to these four heads; color, form, expression and grace. The two former may be called the body, the two latter the soul of beauty. " Alison argues that the beauty both of color and form arises mainly from our associations connected with them. Thus three classes of colors are regarded beautiful; "fi)st, such as arise from the nature of the objects thus pernaunently colored," as green in gIass; "seconid(, such as arise fi'om some analogy between certain colors and dispositions of mind," as white for bridal dresses; ' tip}', such as arise from accidental connections, whether national (oir particular," as purple in every land for a royal robe, and scarilet in England for a soldier's uniform. Forms, like colors, are dependcat on the same law of association for their beauty. Thus foliage and flower are beautiful only when the material seems adequate delicacy in marble, for instance, being a blemish unless cut in low relief, so that it seems firm as well as delicate; while also the serpentine curve, specially expressive of delicacy, is a blemish when, 84 MODEMS OF REASONING AS TO BEAUTY. as in the rose sten, strength and erectness seem to be naturally reqilisite. The inodcern French philosopher, Cousin, one of the ablest, as well as most coiiiprehen,ive of critics, recognizes the distinction between abstract and concrete beauty; treating first of the " true, the beautiful and the good" in themselves, and second of "beauty in things." Hle thinks the theory of Plato, in his Hippias, that beauty consists of the suitableness of means to an end, nearest to the true view. A condition. however, of siiital)leiiess, is proportion and order; unity and variety too are among its essential elements; while even the ideal, the fictitious, is in an important respect suited to our nature; and he concludes, "The great law of beauty, like that of truth, is unity as well as variety." Proceeding from niiiaterial to spiritual elements, he refers to Winckelniann's masterly analysis of the Apollo Belvidere, especially of the faice, as "expressin,g beauty of soul;" and using Plato's illustration that moral beauty may even nmakle natural ugliness to appear beautiful, he adds, "The natural face of Socrates contrasts strongly with the type of Grecian beauty; but look upon himn on his death-bed, at the moment of drinking, the hemlock, conversing with his disciples on the immortality of the soul, and his face will appear to you sublime." A correct analysis of beauty in the concrete will lead us to fix upon the particulars already considered in the preceding chapter as its chief elements. SECT. 4. A/STHETIC JUDGMENT; THE PROCESS OF TIlE MIND BY WIIICH WE DECIDE THAT AN OBJECT IS BEAUTIFUL. The process of mind by which we decide that a thing is true, good, or beautiful, or that an act is right, follows the same law of reasoning in either of these fields. When a child first sees a cricket-ball neatly rounded and stitched, at rest or flying in the air, a process of syllogistic reasoning, with its two premises and its consequent conclusion, is instinctively suggested. HIe sees the ball, its elaborated form, its projectile motion; he has confidence in the testimony of his eyesight; and this axiom is his first premlise. At the same monment he has the consciousness of an inward conviction that the ball could not possess such a form, or move in such a manner, unless the hand of some intelligent being had tforned it and given it its impulse; he has 8 85 ART CRITICISfM. confidence in tthis testimony of his consciousness; and this axiom is his second premise. HIe has thus arrived at absolute truth, by a process of metal)hysical reasoning, upon which no philosol)her can improve; fobr it is only superior skill in ciIploying the powers of' reasoning native to man, the power of observing facts, of marking the miind's suggestions as to their causes, and of referring the one to the other, that distinguishes a Newton firom a child or a savage. By a similar process the mind decides upon the goodness of a thing, or the right of an action; and also upon the beaitit of objects. At the sound of a sweet-voiced singing bird, or of a welltrained musical band, at sight of a richly colored flower, a gracefutlly imoving horse, or of a lovely femiale face, the eye of the child, of the savage, and of the philosopher would alike sparkle with delight; and were any one of this company of beholders, so diversifiedl in character, asked the cause of his pleasure, he would present the same view and in the sanile order of thought. lie tli. heard the peculiar melody firom the single note of the warbler and the combined harmony of many-toned instruments; he has seen the peculiar color, form, mnovement, and expression; and this is his first premise. He has within him the common organism of ear, eye and associated soul, on which such sounds and sights are made to produce a pleasant impression; and this is his second premnise. It is by the use of his judgment upon the facts, and of his taste upon a principle, that every beholder of an oTlject deci(des upon its beauty as he does upon its truth. This law of the mind, which enables the artist to forecast what will please men as certainly as the philosopher can predict wlhat will convince thenm, has been set forth with great force by the ablest mninds. Socrates employed his keenest power of analysis, his most comprehensive range of illustration and his closest logic, as well as his most admirable wit, in his reasoning upon beauty. Lord Baeoni in his "Novunm Organon" ascribes the same high office to fitita,sy in poetry and art as to melioi-y in history, and to i'eusofl in science and philosoplhy. IKant places aesthetic jud,gment, which decides as to beauty, before the teleological which decides as to truth. IlHuine, replied to by Reid, in maintaining the position that the decisions of the mind as to beauty are not to be relied upon, had to contend that "beauty is not a quality of the eir(le" 86 D)EVELOPME'fNT ()F TASTE BY CULTURE. Cousin's second course of Lectures lpresents an admirable outline of the exercise of the mind in this department. It is important for the pupil in art to be assured that there are certain elements in the form, color and relations of objects which will always please, and that the artist and his critic may attain positive knowledge of these. SECT. 5. COMPARATIVE TASTE; THE VARIED DEVELOPMENT OF THE IDEA OF BEAUTY AMIONG MIEN; ITS PROBABLE ABSENCE IN BEINGS INFERIOR, AND ITS POSSIBLE PERFECTION IN BEINGS SUPERIOR TO MAN. If the powers of the mind are employed in the same manner to decide upon the beauty as on the truth of an object, it is a legitiilate inference that the natural and acquired power of correct decision on questions of beauty must differ in different persons, as does the power of logical reasoning upon questions of truth. M1oreoveri as no being infelior to man is supposed to possess the power of' ariiving at principles of abstract truth, thlou,gh all animals below nman have an intelligence which gives them practical knowledge of truth in the concrete, so animals may be supposed to have no theoretical apprehension of principles of beauty, though subject in a measure to impressions firom its objects. Yet again, as we aie assured that there arc beings higher than man in the gift of reason which apprehlends truth, and as we ourselves may in another state of being possess this endowment in a higher degree, so may it be with the power of apl)rehending and judging of beauty. 'The child is fond of pure unmixed colors and rudely carved fourms, and is restricted by the limit of a child's development. The female sex, though quicker than the miale in intuitive conceptions, seem as a rule, to which there are noble exceptions, to tire in the effort at higher execution in the field of beauty; since in the histoiry of art eminent female sculptors and painters are as rare as eminent female sages and poets. The Asiatic, and especially the African race, quick to attain the elements of science and art, have stopped short, each at its own fixed limit, of the goal attained by the European race. The general fact that age, sex, race and grades of' culture place limits to the development of power in art has been recognized by ancient and modern critics. Aristotle discusses the limits of developmient in the appreciation of truth and 87 ART CRITTICISM. beauty reached by different ages and sexes. Reid says, "The imost perifect woriks of art hleave a beauty that strikes even the rude and iglioralit; but they see only a small part of that beauty which is seen in such workls by those who understand themn perfeictly and can produce them.'" Blair maintains that there is among all mankind a coinmmon standard of taste; adding this explanation, " When we refer to the concurring sentiments of inen as the ultimate standard of taste, or of what is to be accounted beautiful in the arts, this is to be always understood of men placed in such situations as are favorable to exertions of taste." Burke renmarks, "There is rather less difference upon matters of taste among mnankind than upon most of those matters which depend upon the naked reason." He adds this important fact, "As arts advance toward their perfection, the science of criticism advances with equal pace." In considering the manner in which animials are affected by sights and sounds that are pleasing, ancient and modern critics have distinguished between the active power of forming conceptions of beauty in the abstract and the passive capacity of being affected by beauty in the concrete. The weary camel is inspiriited by his rider's flute, and the horse seems to feel pride in a gay equipage; but they do not, like the young child, attempt to cop)y what thus gives them a passive delight. The nighltingale sinigs sweetly, and the bee builds skillfully; but, if these were arts with them, they could vary and imnprove upon their performance. Beings inferior to man may not only be affected by art, but mlay even delight the ear and eye of man; yet they have no principles to guide them in their execution, and they operate not as men, but as machines, turning out ever the same work. As there seems to have been in the history of art, as well as of science, in Greece, Rome, and modern Italy, a liiiimit beyond which neither nations nor individuals can go in their advance, while nevertheless each stage of the new rise and progress of science and art in each nation has seemed in some respects to exceed any preceding, so philosoplhers have believed there may be a state of being where the soul of man untrammeled by the body's grossness will have clearer perception, and attain higher execution in the fields of truth and beauty thani are possible to even the most gifted genius on earth. T'lhuus Plato says, the soul on earth "rec( "' cts the reality of bi.a?et 88 TIIE SENSIBILITIES AFFECTED BY ART. it has seen in its celestial journeyings;" and he adds that " It is by halvillng seen the truth that imaii resulmes the hunian form in the second life. " In illustration of both these ideas IRcid says, " NWe'c see mliany beauties, both of human and divine art, which the brute aniimals are incapable of perceiving; and superior beings may exce us as far in their discernment of true beauty as we excel the blrutes." CHAPTER VI TIlE CLASSES OF IMIPRESSIONS PRODUCED ON 3IAN BY WORKS OF ART. THIE word beauty, like the worid truth, is a term of comprelhensive imiport. As there are many orders of truths, so there aiec various classes of' t,,tuties. Truth addresses the intellect, beauty the sensibilities. A general notice of the mental sensibilities to which art.appl)eals, and a classification of the leading impressions awakened by its varied addresses, naturally follow the consideriationI of the intellectual faculties as employed in the field of the beautiful. SECT. 1. CLASSIFICATION OF IMENTAL SENSIBILITIES; AND DESIG NATION OF 1SIPrESSIONS PROPERLY AESTITETIC, OR CAPABLEI OF BEING ADDRESSEl) BY ART. The sensibilities imay be divided into three classes; eio7otioi.s, which are simple passive impressions; affectioas, which are eduotions with an impulse awakened by the object; and desires, which are affections with a craving to possess or to serve the object. Eviotiolis are subdivided into instinctive and deliberative; which latter are awakened only when the reasoning powers are enip)loyed on an object. Amiong deliberative or rational enlmotions, to whi(hli alone art is addressed, are those awakened by the negative fctuire the novel, by the positive quality the lively, by the aesthetic attiibnte the beautiful, by the intellectual characteristic the witty, and by the mioral element the proper. Alffcct'o)is, styled passions when inordinate, are designated as 8S * 89 ART CRTTICISMf. benevolent and malevolent. Among the benevolent are love of kindred, of congenial fiiencds, of benefatctors, of dependents, of our Creator and liedcoimer, as intelligent objects; and of homie, country and natu,.e.:; objects without intelligence. Desl'c.I, called a)pp)etites when inordinate and unworthy, may be classed as lphy.-ical and miental, and they relate to the present or the future. Desires may arise firom individual needs seeking as their aim wealth, knowledge or moral integrity; firom social connections having as objects companionship, power, esteem or usefulness; or fiom religious aspirations for divine approval or benefaction. As they relate to the future, desires are hopes and fears. In art these three principles are to be observed; first, the impressions made by the fine arts are emotionls only; second, the end soughlt by design in the fine arts is the awakening of affections, and third, an indirect result of works of art inay be the stimiulating of desiSes. This distinction was clearly recognized by the ancielnts, Plato and Aristotle, and is carefully observed by writers of the present age, such as Reid, Alison, Cousin, Wayland and Ihaven. Reid says, "The emotion produced by beautiful objects is gay and pleasant. It sweetens and humanizes the temper, is friendly to every benevolent affection, and tends to allay sullen and angry passions. It enlivens the mind and disposes it to other agreeable emotions, such as those of love, hope and joy." "Beauty naturally produces love." Cousin argues, "The idea of the beautiful is free froia all desire;" " The artist sees only the beautiful where the sensual man sees only the alluring and the firightful." HIe cites Horace Arernet lashed to the mast of a vessel in a storm that he might enjoy and then paint the scene, as proof that, "when he knows fear the artist vanishes;" and urges with warmth that the admiration of beauty in the female form utterly excludes every sensuous im pression. In works of sculpture and painting a legitimate appeal may be made even to the lowest of all deliberative emotions, the imlpres sion of novelty; yet their more worthy address is by the beautiful pnroper. In his design the artist may make the awakening of either of the affections, love of homie, of countitry, or ot the Creator, his direct aim. As a final end, the nurturing of any one of the nobler desires, individual or national, as thirst for kniowledge, fame, or moral excellence, may, as Plato in his RPtepublic and in his 9u DESIGNATIONS OF THE BEAUTIFUL CLASSIFIED. 91 Laws argues, be a result indirectly sought by the statesman in his patronage of art. SECT. 2. TIlE BEAUTIFUI, PROPER AND IDEAS ALLIED); AS THlE DELICATE, THE EXQUISITE, THE FAIR, THE BRILLIANT, THE GRACEFUL, THlE PRETTY; IN WHICH BEAUTY OF SUBSTANCE, FORSM, COLOR, LUSTRE, MOTION AND EXPRESSION SEVERALLY PREDOMIINATE. In discrimninating the characteristics of the beautiful proper, regard miust be had to the organ that perceives, to the size of the object and to the elements of substance, form, color, lustre, motion and expression which severally constitute its special charm. The Greeks most thoroughly entered into the spirit of the beautiful proper, making its creations their special field of art execution. Lord KIames observes as to the first point namied: "Beauty in its native signification is appropriated to objects of sight." ". Au agreeable impression is made by the musical sounds of a bugle by the soft texture of velvet, by the delicious flavor of a peach, and the spicy firagrance of the honeysuckle." "The designation beautiful is given to each of these impressions probably at first, fiomi the fiect, that because of the pleasure they give to other senses, objects which otherwise would make no pleasant impression on the eye, comie to be so agreeable to it, that we call the bugle, the velvet, the peach, the honeysuckle, beautiful. Going farthler, we speak of a beautiful thought, metaphor, theorem, discovery; applying the word to ideas or objects that address us through no one of the bodily senses, but appeal to the mind itself without the intervention of the bodily senses; in which case there is not as before a transfer of the language of one of the senses to that of another, but a transfer of the terms of the material to the spiritual. " A second consideration, one fixing the limits of the beautiful proper, is thus suggested by Burke: "Attending to their q?Ialeiy, beautiful objects are colnparatively small." "In most languages the objects of love are spoken of under diminutive epithets." The true idea in this respect, as careful reflection intimates, seeiims to be this: Wre seemn naturally to apply the word beautiful to an object however small or large which the eye takes in at its ordinary angle of vision. Thus we speak of a single statue and of ART CRITICISM. small easel paintings, as beaultiful, because the eyei takes in the entire work. So, too, we call a building at a distance and even a vista view in a landcap)e miles in extent " beautiful," when, however extended, the entire view comes into the range of the eye's single glance. After quantity that of sibstarice is an element of beauty. Thiis the word delicrte is appropriately employed to express. Kanmes alludes to "the slender make of a horse," as a chief charm. Burke devotes a section to delicacy, citing the myrtle as opposed to the oak, the greyhound as opposed to the mastiff, and the Arabian steed as opposed to the war-horse, in confirmation of his view. Alison wvith discrimination says, "It is not delicacy in itself, but delicacy in the approprliate mnateriail that constitutes beauty; since delicate foliage in nmarble and iron seems unLuatural, and therefore inappropriate. Delicacyv is properly an attribute of substance it is that quality in gioateri(i,, from fineness of texture and teiiacitv of particles united, that admits of a prolonged and slender foiiii." Lexicographers make " fineness of texture," the primiary definition of" delicacy;" and hence our association of the word "fine" with "delicate," in metaphorical usage, as when we speak of a mnan (,f delicate sensibility, adding by way of explanation that he is a pI)cerson of "refined nature," and therefore of'fine feelings." Beauty in foiirmi naturally follows that of substance. VWhen marked or separated for special consideration, the natural t erii to express its impression is the word " exquisite." The word relrs properly to the exact nicety with which straight or reigularly curved lines are drawn by a master in art. Hence we speak of" exquisite workmanship," and metaphorically of "a man of exquisite mould in taste and sensibility," the figure showing that the idea of form is pIrominent in the mind. The beauty residing in color, next in thought, we designate by the term "fair." The Saxon word refers to the bringing out of original color in wood, stone, or metal, by polishing or burnishiJg. Asiatics, better critics in color than in form, boast of their own as "the fairest of women." It is not to form but to color we refer in the expression "fair weather." Associated with color is beauty derived from litst)-e; an aspect iiparted by perfect reflection of pure white light. The word "brillic(tit" is used to express this element; a word naturally originating 92 THIE GRPAND, AND KINDRED IMPRESSIONS. 93 among the Frenchl, whose sky is in such contrast with that of Einglaund. The beauty of the diamond is exclusively its lustre; a characteristic embodied in the name " brilliant,'' which the world have agreed in giving to it. Burke, under thle head of "light," alludes to this clement of beauty; as do also other critics. Beauty of' )motion is the foundation of that peculiar aim of the Greek arltist, "grace." The Greek sculptor sought to mlake his woik appearl a livilig, movinog being; and the rudest Greek architects in their first templ)les imade the gentle curve of' platform, coluimn and roof seemi in grace like a bird poised for flight. Plato calls Cupid the "most,gracuful" of beiiigs, because liec is'" flexible aad capable of twiiiiiig ablout every object." Virgil illustrates it in Venu; the iniele ratce ill the bend of whlose nleck as she turned from Eiieas betrayed her divinity3.'Burke, defining "grae'" says, "it is an idea belonginig to posture and miotioin." P)eid niore fully remarks,'"There is no grace without motion; somie genteel or pleasing motion either of" the whole body, or of somie linib, or at least ioie tfeature. Hene, in the face, grace appears onl those features that are movable and change with the varyilig emotiolns and sentinienits of the mind; such as the eyes and eyebrows, the niouth and parts adjacent." Beauty of expressiol is popularly desrgnated by the word "pretty," allied to a AVelsh term i eanling applplio-iate. The statement,'" She is a pretty woman,'" expresses a judgment formed after acquaintance; and refeis to nimectal and moral traits revealed in the expression of the features. W1e speak of a pretty dress as one becoming the wearer; and of a pretty story or song as one appropriate to the age of those to whoia it is addressed. All these attributes, as objects taken in by a glance of the eye or a single effort of the mind, belong to the field of beauty proper. SECT. 3. THE GRAND; BEAUTY UNITED TO MASSIVENESS; AND THE ASSOCIATED IDEAS, THE NOBLE, TIlE ELEGANT, THE SUPERB, THE MIAGNIFICENT, THE SUBLIME, THE MIAJESTIC; IN WHICH TIlE ELE MIENTS OF SUBSTANCE, FORMP, COLOR, LUSTRE, AIOTION AND MORAL DIGNITY ARE SEVERALLY PREDOMINANT. As the beautiful is the general designation for the pleasing effects of snlaller ol)jects, so "the grand" is the appropriate desig,nation of the general inlpression of pleasure produced by largecr objects. ART CRITICISM. lWhile the field of the beautiful proper was specially cultured by the Greeks, the wider domain of the grand is marked everywhere by the track of its Roman lords. Asiatic taste gloried in mere massiveness; but the Promnan sought to combine the spreading breadth and towering height of the Egyptian with the finish of the Greeks. The words denoting special elements belonging to this general idea are chiefly Roman in their origin. The grand, as it appears in stl)st(iiice, is designated by the word noble." The Romans used the word in early times to designate a iian noted for great qualities; though when Pliny wrote its miodern degenerate signification prevailed. It suggests that inll the very blood the noble is of superior nature. Hence the designation of mercury, silver, gold and platinum as the "noble metals." Applied to a monumental shaft or statue, the word "noble" properly used desiognates superiority of material. Grandeur in fd)')e is properly designated by the Latin word "elegant." The Romans thus applied it first to thleir inen, next to their edifices, and finally, in metaphor, they spoke of the "elegant aits." In modern acceptation an elegant mansion po',esses min,led ampileness and finish; and an elegant scholar duly developed native faculties, cultured by proportionate study in varied fields. The rand in color is naturally expressed by the ternm "superb." In early Roiiman times it designated splendor in personal achievements, in later times unworthy ostentation. Virgil alludes to the superb purple robes" and " superb tapestry curtains of the early kings." In modern language a general superbly decorated is one parading gorgeous colors with great breadth of display. A man of superb imagination is one in whose inmagery gorgeous coloring sets off boldness of conception. The grand, lit up with lustre, is designated " magnificent." The Rotman historian, Nepos, characterizes as "magnificent" a man fond of brilliant display, who nevertheless possesses true grandeur of character. Paris viewed in detail is brilliant; but the vast pile of the Hopital des Invalides, with its gilded and glistening dome, cannot be called anything else than imagnificent. Constantinople, with its numerous massive domes radiant with white paint in the morning sunbeams, is magnificent when seen as a whole from the Posphorus; but it is far from brilliant when viewed near and in detail from the street. 94 THE NOVEL AND PICTURESQUE. The grand in motion is the "sublime." The Greeks in poetry often appealed to it; their word to express the sublimle was an inadequate one. Native and congenial to the Oriental caste of mind, it is an impression specially sought by their artists; as is strikingly illustrated in the efforts of Hiebrew poets and sculptors to give form to their conceptions of a living, nmoving Deity, unseen yet everywhere present; a spirit like the clouds floating above the earth, and like the clouds ever shifting yet brooding. The Ronian use of their own word sublime is seen in Virgil's allusion to the " pole" of the heavens as "sublime;" and to Venus, graceful as she glides along the earth, but "sublime" when bounding upward to heaven. Theoretic critics, as Burke and Cousin, speak of the sublime as an impression of awe awakened by objects and ideas uncoimprehlended, because indefinite or infinite. Poets apply it to personified objects moving as self-acting agents. MIont Blanc, lifting its "bald awful front,'" and the "cross of Christ," "towering" with "light around its head," are declared by Coleridge and Bowring "subl?)e." The jet of burning lava shooting firom the crater of'Vesuvius is sublimne; the glowing stream overflowing at ni,ght is magnificent; the whole dark mountain with its sides and crest is grand. It is the elastic force of the upward motion that constitutes the sublime proper. When the grand is accompanied by moral digiity the term "majestic" expresses its impression. The Latin poets and orators spoke of the ii(ijesty of their gods and of their state. In Christian theology "the miajesty" of God is grouped with Hlis "beauty and glory;" these three being the aesthetic impressions made on man by His relation to His physical, intellectual and moral creations. The proper discrimination of the subdivisions of the grand as well as of the beautiful will be found to give precision in thought and expression in the criticism of art. SECT. 4. THE NOVEL, THE SURPRISE AT NEWNESS, AUXILIAR-i TO THE EMOTION OF BEAUTY; AND THE PICTURESQUE, AN E} ECT FROM GROUPING ALLIED TO GRANDEUR. Lord Kames remarks, "Of all the circumstances that raise emotions, not excepting beauty nor even greatness, novelty has the most powerful influence." Though the lowest in dignity of all the impressions made by art, its power to arouse has been resorted to 95 ART CRITICISM. by artists in every department. The ancient HIebrews continually asked after new luxuries, new pleasures and even new gods. The Greeks, Plato said, were even in their best days fond "of novel things," and of " novel deities;" while Luke, the Greek Christian, attests that in the age of their degeneracy "the Athenians spent their time in nothing else than to tell or hear sonme new thing." Cicero in his day laments that the practical lomIIans were drawn after "new things." Yet Burke nmiakes novelty the first element in the " sul)limie and beautiful," saying, " Some degree of novelty mnii.,t be one of the materials in every instrument that works on the mind; and curiosity3 blends itself more or less with all our passions. " The artist has the critic as his supporter in a due appeal to this impulse of human nature. The "' picturesque" derives its claiim to consideration from its association with the modern advance of landscape paintilng and landscape gardening. It is a complex impression, comning front several objects, so grouped as to produce a pleasing impression originating partly from mere novelty, and akin to the emotion of grandeur. The word picturesque, properly French, relates to that aitificial grouping of objects which makes them seem parts of a picture. A picturesque costume is one so adjusted that every beholder at once says, "That is not natural; it is too studied: it is a dress for a picture." Alison quotes at length poets fioio Ihomer to Goldsmith who furnish a "grouping eminently pictuiesque;" and he characterizes its impression as that coming fiom "a variety of pleasing images passing with rapidity and awakening a sensibility beyond what the scene or description immediately before him can, of itself, excite, giving rise indeed to sublimity." 3Iodern landscape painting originated the style designated picturesque. The ancient painters did not work up the details of farreaching background. When landscape proper was attempted, though nature was substantially the artist's standard, the landscape could not be truly, like a human being sitting for a portrait, an unchanging, ever present model to be copied. Sunlight and shade alternate; trees wave and animals move firom their first observed positions; and even foliage and flowers change their forms and hues with every rolling hour. It was necessary, theiefore, that the landscape painter should select some one definite position of each 96 TIIE COMIC, GROTESQUE AND TRAGIC. oljCct, and some chosen grouping of the whole; and these chosen attitudes and preferred combinations, necessarily artificial to a certiiin extent, gave an ideal instead of a real character to the scene depicted, which took the namne of picturesque. In the same connection a style of landscape gardening arose, in which walks and trees were neither arranged in stiff, nlathemlatically exact lines, nor yet left to the fortuitous grouping of nature; and, this artificial and yet artistic intrusion into nature's order, just fll enough to add the clharni of art to that of nature, was dcsiguated picturesque. Vlhcther applied to personal adornment, to a paiiting, or to a landscape, the termn picturesque relates mainly to the groupigbg of beauties. SECT. 5. THE COMIC, GROTESQUE AND TRAGIC; EMOTIONS AWAKENED BY DISTORTED FORMS AND INCONGRUOUS RELATIONS, ALLIED TO BEAUTY AND GRANIDEUR EITHER IN ANIMAL OR HIUMIAN EXPRES SION. The comic is the combination of the ludicrous addressing the eye, and of wit addressing the ear; and as the expression of human p)assion and action it is accompanied by gestures and attitudes. It suorests ideas of smallness and meanness; as is seen in the droll, the semblance of the coniie exhibDited by animals like the monkey destitute of the intellectual element, wit. Thle HeIbrew poets as Job and Isaiah, Homer in his battle of the fi'ogs and mice, Aristophanes in the Greek dramia, as well as Greciani and Roman critics like Aristotle, Cicero, Quinctilian and horace, show the law of the comnic as employed by the poets. Aristotle's illustration of the ridiculous leads firom the comiic in poetry anrd song to the comic in forms addressing the eye in sculptui'e and painting. He says:'"A countenance ugly or disfigured, but not occasioning pain, is ridiculous." As the actor by assuimii' a COmiic expression, or putting on a comiic mask, accomplished his end more than by words, so the artist could emibody comiic expression in marble and on canvas'. As there were artists to carve and paint Achilles and Againeminon, so there were true masters in art who "recreated themselves," as Pliny says, "with comic subject, amid tragedy;" as Homer relieved painfully pleasing sympatlhy for Achilles and Briseis with the ludicrous appearance of the slhallow-pated Thllersites. 9 E 97 ART CRITICISM. The grotesque, a name derived from the French grotte, is Oriental rather than Grecian; and as developed in Europe it belongs to the spirit of the Middle Ages. It is embodied in forms seen dimly as in a grotto; such as jagged rocks and shapeless stumps in a thicket, or sculptured bats clinging to the ceiling of a dark room, owls perched in jutting ledges, and toads squat in dark corners. The term is applied properly to objects at rest, not in action; and to individuals rather than to groups. The grotesque pervades in excess Chinese sculpture, painting, architectural decoration and ornamental gardening; while the Egyptians, though fond of the coimic, but rarely resorted to the grotesque. The Greeks had no sentiment in keeping with the grotesque; the universal spiriit of animation and action pervading thleir art, their love of transparence, and their high-toned aspiring after the heroic forbidding it. To the Romans it was more congenial; as is witnessed in the decorations of baths and private sleeping,-roomns now unburied at Pompeii. In the Mliddle Ages, thrloughout Central and Western Europe, the whole spirit of the ,). ople as well as of the rulers and the artists, seemed in keeping with this lower order of the art; as is seen in the old cathedrals of l'ltis and other French and German cities, perfectly overloa(le(l with every species of grotesque and hideous figures sculptured in high relief. In the grotto proper the introduction of the grotesque is true art; but at the por'tal of a sanctuary for religious worship no propriety of art can justify the introduction of toads, lizards and other hideous devices. The comic awakening mirth by diminutive or mean objects fidls b)elow the range of the grand; the grotesque rises as in the colossi of the Roman baths to its lower walks; while the tragic appealing to the intensest of human emotions towers to the loftiest heights of the sublime and majestic in its conceptions. Plato used the words tragic and comic much as they are employed in modern times; calling Hlomer a "tragic poet," because he is hig,hly dramatic in the mournful passages of his poems. Aristotle analyzes the principles of tragedy as one department of dratmatic composition; indicating the connection between expression in the histrionic art, and in the arts of sculpture and painting. In early Grecian dramatic performances, as in miodern Chinese theatricals, pantomime, or sign language, played aii important part. As thlo 98 ART PROGRESSING WITH MANI'S DEVELOPMIENT. 99 living actor assumied attitudes and looks expressive of grief tnd anguisli that spoke without uttcred laiiuague, so the samie attitudes and expressions cut in mnarble or pictured on the tablet gavc to dead stone and wood an imnpressive voice. The Laocoon and Niobe in Grecian sculpture, and the Iphigenia in Grecian painting, silent, yet eloquent in their "voiceless woe," are monuments of the power which art possesses to appeal to our impressionr of the tragic. The order in which these sensibilities, the beautiful, the grand, and their allied and subsidiary emotions, liave been considered, will be found of value in tracing the history of plastic art. CIHAPTER VII. TIIE INFLLTENCE OF NATURALI, CItARACTERISTICS AND OF DEGREES OF CULTURE IN MIODIFYING TIlE IMPRESSIONS PRODUCED BY ART. TIIE idea, coimmon to niankiid, that superior knowledge and skill in any department are above ordinary apprehension, and tlherefbroe beyond general attainment, seeims to cling to the human iiiiiidc when art is regarded; thoughl increasing general intelligence ha' long, since expelled this impression as to science. Fromll tinie im imemoriial the superior race of India have been a caste bound by oatlhs never to divulge the secret principles of science on which their arts are practised; and as their sciecce seeims to the people supl)ernatural, so their arts seeiii magical. IPythagoras having ]earned the science of this caste, thought to introduce it into (C reece. Iut hle mistook entirely the spirit of the Greek people, so different firom the Asiatic. Aniong the Greeks the veil of pretentious imystery was torn off from all science and art; the coiniion people d(emianded to know the secrets of both; and both alike they discu.sed, criticised and practised, regarding art no less than science the couimmon heritage of mian, just like the air they breathed and the water tlhey drank. A principle was thus developed niost iiportant to be observed in the progress of every age or nation. Another equally important principle, the necessary counterpart ART CRITICISTM. of that just mentioned, was clearly recognized by the Greeks as leaders in true art. lliile aimong the thousands of intelligeit a'id cultured -youth in a nation all may be able to criticise art, and hundreds if devoted to the pursuit nighlt succeed as artists, yet differing tastes and the varied andi numerous wants of man in society call for on]ly a liinited class to miake art the special business of life. Socrates tau.ght that every mnan of the common() people should think for -himiself. and learn for himself the true pirinciples of rieligionl, of imoral, of political science, of letters and of art; but he by) no nmeans tain]lit that every man should or could be a Phidiats in sculpture, a P,)ly notus in paintitig, a Pericles in statesmi;nship, a l'lato in pltilosolphy, ol a Thelnistocles in geneiralship. There are inborn natail il characteristics of national antid individual imenta-l capacity, and there are degrees of general and special culture, to be remarked inii the histoiy of art aulong men; wvithlout the observing of which it is vain to attempt a consideration of the varied tastes that have prevailed, and the wonderfully different success in execution that has markled the peopl)le and the arlti;>ts of different lands and ages. SECT. 1. TIi INFLUENCE OF NATIONAL CITARACTER AND SOCIAL CUSTO'IS ON TriiE SEN-SIBLE iM.PrESSIONS PIROUCED BY ART. He lwho "niide of' one blood all nations to dwell on tlle ftlce of the eairth, Ihas allowed differing race and cultuLre to sel)arate "-Greek and Jew, barbarian and Scythian." In art, palpable to the e-e as its productions are, this distinction is perhaps mnore mnarked tlhan in any other delpartmenet of hunian attainment. One falnily of nankind have never passed the iu-fancy of human developBlent, and their art is that of a child; a second has never risen above mediocre talent and a style in art for ages stereotyped while yet a third has soared at once to the very heights of humtan attainmetit. Science in every department, especially ethnology and the history of language, join to confirm Giiyot's analysis of the humlan faniils as suiggested b) the records of Al Moses and the testimony of universal Asiatic tradition. The Ijaiuitic family, peo)ling Af'ica, are imllitative but not origoinating in menta,l cast. The Shenlitie, peopling Asia, are iniagitative and ideal, but sluggish in action and tardy in ilmproving. The Japhetie or Indo-European, quick and aspirinlg iii conception and also energetic in execution, have fiom the earliest too I: I I ART CUL,TURPFE OF DIFFEREFNT RACFES. aiiiials of hlistory been leaders in art, controlled often in their ideals by tli peol)le fI)r whloii they have (-1dsigIted, yet graduallyl elevatiiig itiler iraices to a imecasurie of thleir own su)periority. Thle words referill to art used ill Eg-yi)t transferred by 1Moes to his Ilebrew reco(rds. the testinony of the scull)tures everywhere on ],(ypI)tian monumnienits, and the declarations of Herodotus and later Grecian and iiinaln historians, all indicate that the noble Aryan stock of thle CaucaIsus, the proud Bralininic caste of India, and the " beauty of the Clialdees' excellency" have been the moulding masters of all the ancient ages and nations in art. In ev-ely land as we make our survey we shall trace the rude originals of a native art. That early uncultured native art, where )baribairian and Afirican rudeness has been unbroken by the iiiteivention of a higlher race, has been permnanently dwarfed and remiained in perpetual itifancy. Wlherever the proud and hoary Slheiitie finiily has been undisturbed in its changeless ages of history, tlhere stereotyped miediocrity has reigned. W'here, however, as in Egypt, art has originated ainlo a ftiiiily whose popular l)iritual notions were as low as the Afi'ican's in fetish worship of reptiles, and as fixed as the Asiatics in blindness to the harmonies of nature in foi'in andl color, we shall find the rudest of all concepl)tions in art stiuiulated to their first step in pio'ress by Indian resident aitists, prompted to a higher advance by Persian intervention, refiled to tlhe far'thest possible inlmprovenient of which its heavy mnassiveness was susceptible by the grace of succeeding Grecian genius., and finally ennobled into true grandeur by the all-absorbing and niodifying spirit of the imperial Ionian. Everywhlere, in fact, where Tami has toiled alone we shall find art in its infancy; where Sheni has dreamied secluded in petty tribes, or iiiassed in colossal nations, art has advanced to youth's period of hlialf-nmatuied inmagination; but lwherever Japhllet has both dreamed and toiled, whether donlicilid alone in his native hills and plains, or "dwelling in the tents of Shem. " or employing " Hamn as his servant," there art has been niarked with that progress which claimed for it a place in the anialysis of histori-. 9* 101 ART CRITICISM. SECT. 9.. TIIE GENERAL INFLUENCE OF A)VANCING CIVILIZATION OX CRITICAL APPRECIATION-' OF ART. The first marks of a nation's, as of an individlial's progress, are not seen in the field of the true, or of the beautiful proper; but in that of thie good. The material advancement, however, of a people soon creates a taste for art proper; which demand foreign or native skill will seek to supply. That skill, once introduced, becomes an educating power, stimulating the zest and gradually refining and instructing the critical jud,gment of a people in their innate love of beauty and its creations. In Egypt, no less than four marked stages of progreys are observable. Even the matchlless art of Greece, culniiating in Rome, had the same rude begiinning; and it advanced t)y stages of progress to its climax of perfection. In the Saxon and German nations, all of whose steps in the progress of art are close down to our own era, this progress is specially manifest. Of the Germans at his day Tacitus says, " Amiong them silver vases, gifts to their ambassadors and princes, are held in the same low esteem as those which are wroulght of clay." "The walls of some of their houses they smear with an earth so pure and glistening, that it imitates a painting and the lineaments of colors."' And this is the comparatively modern history of art in a land that now boasts its Thorwaldsen in sculpture, and its Albert Durer, Vandyke and Rubens in painting. The pI)rogress of art in a single nation, so like to its development in the individual artist, seems to promise a kindred advancement amiong mankind as a race. As the individual man leaves to his children his life-time accumulations as capital with which they can begin a new advance, so one generation of artists leaves to a succeedinr age its perfected material and practice; and so, too, nations coming to their climax and decaying leave collected products of the chlisel and brush and written treatises which ena,le a succeeding nation to take up the work where it had been left, by other minds and lilat,ds. 102 GOVERNMENT PATRONAGE OF A RTa SEcT. 3. TIIE PECIALI, INFLUENCE OF FORnS OF POLII'UrICAL ORGANI ZATION ON TIIE PATRIONAGE OF ART. Artists like other men must secure a livelihood, if not wealth, by their profession. No private patron can mieet the expense of higher woriks of art. Society in its civil org,anization must supply this need. In the progress of civilization since the days of Ilerodotus and Aristotle, as before the ages whose record they give, civil governnients by whatever name called have been virtually of two types; rel)resentative republics and hereditary monarchies. The question is an importanlt one in the history of art criticism and art execution which of these two forimsof government is most favorable to the patri. t (I of art. The principle to which the mind might naturally be lc&!..c'ires conformed to fact. A government which fosters the firee action of the intellect of the people, affording to genius, however obscure its origin, an open field for the indulgence of its aspirations, niust be fatvorable to the development of a capacity for art. On the other hand, a stable government controlled by mlen of culture is essential to the intelligent and liberal patronage which art demands for its highest success. In Greece the popular government of Athens called forth among its own citizens and attracted from distant provinces the rareist gifts and culture devoted to art; it culminated under Alexander, thie first monarch of all Greece, whose ambition if not his taste led him to become the liberal patron of art; but its spirit declined rapidly under the successors of Alexander, who, with less noblenIess of nature than the first monarch, were no less ambitious to make art subservient to their personal famne. At Rome, science, art and letters had their spring under the Republic; they attained their acmie of advance under the first emperor; and steadily declined when the imperial ambition prostituted genius to low and selfi.sh ends. In modern Italy the revival of art began under the cultured aristocracy of Tuscany, took wing during the brief reign of republican institutions, and went steadily on to its acme under cipl)crors and cardinals who felt it an honor to be its patrons. The history of all ages and nations shows at least this; that popuIlar i,istitutions have been the early nursery of genius in art; but that despotismi has blighted and wthered every bud of promise in its miost matured growth. 103 ART CRITICISM. SECT. 4. SPECIAL INFILUENCE OF INTELLECTUAL, PROGRESS IN SCIENC,E AN-D LITERATURE ON TIlE STYLE OF ART. In art as in literature, we speak of the style of an age, of a country, or of a school to designate the character of the conceptions embodied and the methods of execution employed. Intellectual progress, especially attained in the European races, has originated or modified styles; for the advance of a nation in metaphysical speculation gives form to (1design, and improvenments in physical science add skill in execution. The p)hilosophy of the Vedas of India, associated with practical energy among the people of Northern Afiica, culminated in the wisdom of Egypt, in which the Ilebrews Joseph and Mloses became learned, and firom which Pythagoras and Plato drew their inspiration. As a consequence all Greek and Romian writers trace back the origin of art in Greece to miasters who drew their skill and their material fi'om that earliest cantre of intellectual development. Afterward Grecian philosol)hy so reacted upon Egyp1t that Alexandria under the Ptolemies became a chief centre of learning; and in nothing more than in the art of that age is the influence of this advancement to be remarked. The progress of the Greeks through the ages of the epic, the lyric and the drania, of philosop)hy and of oratory, and also the history of the Romans up to their Augustan era, all show that art is but the reflex of advancing culture. The appearance in modern ltaly of Galileo and Columbus, Dante and Savonarola, at the same era with the great masters in revived sculpture and painting, demonstrates that the important element essential to a nation's progress in true art is the advancement of a people in science and culture. SECT. 5. THiE SPECIAL INFLUENCE OF MORAL RIEFINEMENT ON THE ACCESSORIES OF ART. While principles growing out of intellectual development influence the style of art, moral considerations will control the accessories of sculptured and pictured forms. This has especially to do with the robing of the human figure. Clilmate aind cuii,toiii control ftllness of dress and nudity. The portions of the person covered in the cold of winter are left bare in summerC and in a heated winter parlor. The delicate maiden in Southern Italy, no less than in the mountains of Syria and in the African jungles, exposes her person 104 MIORAL INFLUENCE OF NUDE STATU.\R~Y. without thought of' impropriety when bathing in an open stream. lIoral propliety in the climactic age of Greek ethics commended rathler than censured the nude Apollo and Venus. Thle love of beauty is created in man to be the refiner of his moral nature. Arnioig, all the works of the Divine hand no form is so exquisite, no color so delicate, and no entire figure such a model of beauty, as that found in the human firame, both male and feImale; and that alike in childhood, youth and maturity. It cannot be conceived that the Divine muind designed that this form should be hidden firom the eye made to admnire beauty or that to copy its perfect outline can be opposed to His will. Hence everywhere that dress is most a(lmired tfor its intrinsic beauty which most brings out and least Itidles the contour of the entire form. This principle early prompted the Gireek artists to so general a study and representation of the nude in art as to call folrth P'liny's remark, "Greca res est nihlil vrelare;" the Grecian method is to drape no figure. The most spiritual of' poets, phliloso)phers and artists have agreed that true and deep-seated nmorality is nurtured, instead of being vitiated, by ideals of the male and f'eimale form preselitiig the entire human figure in its nobleness and loveliness. This truth Mliltonii earnestly argues when picturing Adam and Eve seen by angt,els and by Satan in their native perfection of form. The profound Cousin says, "It is the property of beauty not to irritate and inflame desire, but to purify and ennoble it. The more beautiful a woman is, the more, at the sight of this noble creature, is desire tempered by an exquisite and delicate sentimient; and is sometimes even displayed by a disinterested worship. If the Venus of the Capitol, or the St. Cecilia, excite in you sensual desires, you are not made to feel the beautiful." The most admired of all works of American sculpture is the Greek Slave of the modest, sensitively chaste and humbly devout Powers. Truth, beauty and goodness always go hand in hand. The h utman fi'ame must be studied, not only by the trained physician, but also by educated yout h of both sexes, that the sacred obligation of care for a structure so delicate may be suitably felt. A kindred study of this masterpiece for its beauty's sake has realized the fact thalt the highest t one of i morality always prevails where, under the in fluence of cu lt ured taste in art, youth of both sexes can together adm ire such work s as the Venus de Medici and the Apollo Bel E * 105 ART CRITICISM. videie, the Greek Slave of Powers and the Washlington of Green, () tIgl. SECT. 6. TiIE SPECIAL INFLIUENCE OF RELIGIOUS CULTURE ON TIIE SUBJECTS OF AET. Pliny's statement that "the first statues mnade were images of the gods," suggests a principle of universal truth. Among rude Afiican, Asiatic and American tribes, rude art is exhausted on imiages and shrines for deities; and in its progress through Western Asia till it culminated in Greece, its highest efforts in every depairtient were consecrated to religion. Under Christianity, too, religion has given spring and guidance to the spirit of art. The Old Testaiment forbade any graven image or likeness as an object of religious reverence. Yet the whole ceremonial service of the Old Testament required images wroughlt by art, and the Deity made HRis presence known by the flame of the Shlekinali on the mercy-seat. The New Testament declares that God is a spirit to be worshiped in spirit; yet the Christian religion has its prescribed ordinances and formis of service addressing the eye and ear, and teachles that no man can approach unto God, except through the MIediator, the man Christ Jesus. It seems, therefore, a legitimate conclusion that art is necessarily associated with spiritual Chlristiaijity. The filct that by thleir art-culture the Greeks were l)rclpared for a religion of such matchless harniiony and beauty as the Christian systeim, while the Jews with the Old Testanicit prophecies were not thus prepared, is proof that art was allied to the spirit of the religion of Christ. Under the Christian religion all other fonrms of art than the plastic have their most legitimate and necessary employ, and their very highest development in connection with Christian worship. MIusic was never so hallowed as when Jesus sang a hymn with his disciples; it was never so grand as in the pealing chorius of a thousand Christian voices shouting their enthusiastic hymns of praise to their Redeemer; and it was never so perfect in melody and harimony as in the sacred oratorios of Handel and Mozart. Poetiry, too, never reached such a lofty strain as in the drama of Job, in the lyriics of David, and in the epic of Isaiah and Habakkuk; and if the true genius of ancient Poesy lingers yet on earth, it is in the souls of such men as Dante and Tasso, of Goethe and Schiller, of 106 ART ALTLIED TO SPIRITUAL REFLIGION. Milton anid Moore. when, stirred by the fervor of Christian devo tion, they llave i]()'f, l fi1rth those Clhristian Mnelodies wllieh will outliv-e even Hlomer's i, lsc. Most of all, the histrionic art, yet more akin to the plastic arts, never has had such masters as in sacred eloquence. Paul the Tarsian, according to Loiginus, surpassed Diemosthenes in effective eloquence; while the long line of pulpit orators fiomi Chrvsostom, the "golden-moutlied," have alone found a theme worthy the power of histrionic genius. Moreover histoiy shows that Christian culture has called forth the highest perfection of plastic art in all three of its departments. In Christian latnds commnon utensils, dress and equipage have assuiiied a special elaborateness controlled by chasteness. There are no such aspirants for relies, for fanlily portraits, and for adorned burial-grounds as a Christian people. Yet more, aniong the most scrupulous ol)pp)osers of forms and rituals there is seen a denland, whlich no coinniiiunity can resist, that the house for Christian worslip) keep pace with, if' it do not, outstrip in symmetry and elegance, tlhe private mansions that surround it. The singing of sacred hynins b1 an irresistible influence takes on more and imiore of artistic culture. The furniture and ornaments of the pulpit, the chloir, the altar and the commnunion-table, assume a constantly il,creasing costliness of fiish. And indeed the observing student that has visited the niosques of Oriental Mloohammedismi, the synagogues of ancient Judaisni, and even the temples of the mnost fornial and sensual hleathenism, returns to observe the fact everywhere pressing itself on his notice in Christian lands, that plastic art never has been called firth in such profusion of subjects and in such chastened beauty and sublimiity of conception and execution as in the accompaniments of' Christian worshlip. History too rightly interpreted settles the question as to the propriety of representations in sculpture and painting of the man Christ Jesus. The fact that no Grecian limner, sculptor or painter of Christ's age has left in nmarble or on canvas his form or features, and that no inspired historian of his life has even given the least hint by which a single lineament of either can be traced, is most instructive in mIany respects; but they manifestly err who take it as an indication that no ideal of his person niay be legitiiinately conceived(l and executed with the pencil, the chisel, or the brulsh. It was niot designed that Jesus should be the rel)rese otftivc o'f one 107 A RT CRITICISM. famiily, nation, age, sex, class, condition, or type of mankind; that he slOuld lec recognized as Asiatic or Eur(Opean, as Jew or Greek, BI(mlan or Scythian, as a man of ancient or modern tilmes, as of civic or rustic aspect, as of reflective or practical mental cast, as of mild or stern disposition, or as of sanguine or retiring temipelrament. Yet every Christian does and must form his own conception of Christ's human aspect; the preacher's glowing imagery is designed to aid this conception; and the artist's chisel and brush nmay serve, too, the same end, Augustine, living in the fourthcentury, a mlan whose religious experience after that of Paul the apostle is one of the most instructive in history, thus writes: "What was his personal appearance we are entirely ignorant. For the features of the Lord's fleshly naturec are varied and sculptured according to the innumerable dive ) )- f individual conceptions; which nevertheless were one, whatever they were." This statement, fully con-ifirmed by early and later Christian writers, intimates first that very varied representations of Jesus' personal form and features had been conceived and executed by artists in the early days of Augustine; second, that the artist's ideal, like that of the private Christian, is for hiin and for all having kindred conceptions a trite, because to such it is the real image of the perfect man; and, third, that these creations of high art were commended by the evangelical spirit of primitive Christian times. It should be specially remembered, that true art always tends to spiritual conceptions. As Jarves has well remarked, "The works of Raphael, as those of Phidias, never have been worshiped... It is ugly and hideous associations that have always led to error and idolatry." SECT. 7. THE NATURE OF ART-STUDY AND THE SOURCES WIIENCE ITS LESSONS ARE TO BE DRAWN. Education in art is needed for two classes of youth; first, for those of select genius who are to be artists; and second, for the general student who ought to be an art-critic. Sonme, like Giotto and West, are born to an intuitive power of conception and a suggestive skill in execution, which enable tlhem without study to draw, mould, or color with surprising skill. Others as Socrates, WIinckelmann and Kames, arc gifted with critical judgment and logical power of thou,ght and expre;;sion which make themi surpass 108 STUDY OF NATURE AND OF MAN. the artist in conception and suggestion, so as to be his instructors in desigin and lhis critic, Ii; xecution; but who ftil in every effort to put their own theories into practice. The studies requisite for thelse two classecs are in theory, in elementary principle, the same; as the study of anatomy for youth designed for the legal, clerical and medical professions is the same. The consideration of these elementary principles of art belongs to the field of Art Criticisi; the after study of the professional school fills volumes of detail and years of practice. The three main sources of elementary Art Education are studies of nature, of works of art, and of text-books. The study of nature embraces three departimecnts; firtst, material creations, inorganic as rocks, clouds and mountains, and organic as plant and anilial forms;.sCOnd(, spiritual beings and their attributes, enibracing man in all his variety of character and action; and thiiCd, since both the previous classes are but effects, the study of causes prior and supenior to all finite material and spiritual existence, embracing especially the contemplation of the great First Cause, the Divine Author of all. The study of works of art, again, involves not only the employ of the eye on preserved works of antiquity and on present collections, but the reconstruction before the mind's eye of what history describes in words; in which study the art-critic miay search only for principles, while the artist must scan and guess that he mlay attain methods of execution. The study of text-books, yet again, embraces the wise selection of books and the successful order of topics examined. The study of nature is the study of the trte or of actual existences. The transition firom Egyptian to Grecian sculpture seemed an inspiration, because when Daedalus the early Greek sculptor wished to make a Hercules or a hero, he stripped a brawny peasant to his skin, and trained him to the bend of limb, the strain of mnuscle and the position of features which miark action and passion. Painting seemed in the revival of art in Italy to be angel touches, because Giotto as a shepherd-boy loved to draw his own sheep, because Lionardo would thread a crowd for weeks to select a face of nmiserly sordidness that might give himn a Judas, and because laphael drew his sweetest DIary with the babe Jesus on the head of a wine cask as hlie gazed on the unstudied attitude and unconscious expression of maternity seen in a simple peasait woman 10 109 ARPT CRITICISfM. nu'.sing her child. The truly adm)ilable feature of tluskin's p( l)ular works on art is embodied in this paragraph: " Thelc chief aimn and bent of Emy systeiu is to obtain, first, a t)erfectly patient, and to the utmiost of the pupil's power, a delicate methiod of work; such as may ensure his seeiig trelJl. For I amn nearly convinced that when once we see keenly enough there is very little difficulty in drawing what we see; but even supposing this difficulty to be still great, I believe that the sight is a more imiportant thing than the drawing; and I would rather teach drawing that niy pupils may learn to love Nature than to teach tilhe looking it Nature that they may learn to draw. It is surely, also, a imore iIil)portant thing for yotiung people and unprofessional students to know how to apprecialte the art of others than to gain miuch power in art theimselves.'' The study of bl t?)i(t giatitrie, virtually the study of the good or of what is ad(1pte( to nian as hle is, is equally important. Mankind have intuitions that are right, and prejudices which may be wrong; and the artist, as truly as the lawyer, the phyisician, and the clergyman, will fail of satisfying his masters and patrons, the public, who does not study to harmonize popular convictions by guiding rather than insulting popular prejudices. Because Apelles paid just respect to the people's judgment when he placed his flinished pictures in the window of his studio and put the extra stitch in the sandal suggested by the cobbler, he could make bold, when the cobbler criticised thie ankle, to reply before an exacting Athenian poplilace, "Let the cobbler stick to his last." When Brahminiic pride of consistency compelled Egyptian artists to cramp all prollmpltings of ilmprovIemIent on the orthodox pattern of their statues and temples, it was the true spirit of art which prompted Grecian artists afterward to yield to this demand as to general form in the purely Egyptian tenmple at Phile, in order that they might invest the structure with a charm of grace which to this day nmakes the rude Nubians call it "Es-soor-el-Acas el- Wogood," the palace of beautiful aspect. The artist whlo arrays himself against popular opinions, allowintig himself to grow out of sympathy with those for whom as a servant he toils, is as truly opposing nature as he who should set at defiance the laws of gravity. The true rmaster on the .toriy ocean of human passions controls the inconstant and obsti. 110 STUTDY OF THE DIVINE BEING. note sea by huimoring the gale; while at the samie time he firmly breasts the billows and pursues his own chosen path. Thle study of Nature, again, is the study of its Abtthor and of ?e;ilit or duty to Himn. The artist who thinks to copy the Divine works without any knowledge of the Divine workman, is like one who should attempt to copy a picture of Raphael without first stLudy-ing the artist. Socrates and Plato laid the foundation of Grecian art by directing the contemplation of their pupils above His works to the great Author of all that is true, beautiful, good and right. The wondrous power of the great masters of Italy was thelc religious spirit that pervades their works. Human nature always has demanded, and, because man was made to adore and serve his Maker, it always will demand, that the artist, as truly as other public mlen, respect if he do not personally appreciate their religious op)iiions. Yet imore as the experience of Cicero led Iim to declare, "That no mana can be a successful orator unless he is a good man," so the history of art proves that no artist can be gr,cat who is not a religious man. The study of the?corls of art produced by other nations has been auxiliary to the study of nature in giving spring successively to Grecian, RomaIan, Italian, Geiman, French, and Eng,lish art. The unburied statues gathered fiom ancient Greece and Italy, the collections of the masters in modern painting, are the necessaryv coinp)leinent to thile field of nature in the study of art. The one is the g.alleiy of finisiled works to give the artist models in design; the other the studio to unfold to him methods of execution long tested. ill BOOK II. DRAWING; THE RIEPRESENTING OF FORMS ON A PLANE SURFACE. DRAWING is the first of the plastic arts to be acquired; the earliest amiusemient of the child. In the tombs of Egypt, the artist's first work was the drawing in outline. The Book of Job, the earliest written record, alludes to inscriptions "graven with a pen ot iron and icad in thie rock." Peale, in his " Graphics," calls writing with the pen a bran(ch of drawing. The child prefers to try his oriuinatini skill in tin pastime of drawing, before lie will consent to the slavish toil of copying letters of fixed shape and size. in tne prIcItical execution of any single work in drawing the order of study in the art is hinted. The master first traces.nc outline of a principal figure; hlie next adds a backerounct ot suuordinate figures, or of landscape; his sketch is next multirilied in engraved copies, or by the quick penciling of the sun's rays: while in all this work intelligent thought guides the true artist. Fiane and Perspective Drawing, Engraving, Plhotogral)phling and Dcsi-,ki are, therefore, the leading studies in this department of art. CHAPTER T. PLT,ANE DRAWING; THE REPRESENTING OF FORMS AS LOCATED IN A SINGLE PLANE. PLAN —E Cdrawing is the representing by lines of te fScrm of' -n object upon a plane surface. It is somietiime called " Geometrical Drawing," because the figures are drawn as in Gueometry in thleir 1-2 LINES AS FIRST LESSONS IN DRAWING. actual proportion's. As distinguished from drawing in perspective, plane drlawiviig is the rlI'ersenting one i'-,t; of many objects; and it is the delineation of that one object L; if all its parts lay in one plane at the same distance fi'omi the eye. SECT. 1. LINES AS THE ELEMENTS OF DRAWING. The elements of drawing are lines either straight or curved. The outline in all drawing is in straight or curved lines longer or shorter; and the shading, however executed, is made up of conibinations of short straight lines or dots. The first lessons in drawing are in straight lines. Three attainmenrits are here requisite for the pupil; first, the practice essential to the makiing of a strai-ght line; second, the combining of staiight lines in parallels and in angles; third, the conibiningr, of tlhese l).trallels and angles into figurLes of more or less sides. Th'le shading of an unvaiied surface, as the clear sky or a level country, is in ipa,allel lines; while the varied configuration of clouds, mountains, and broken country is executed in broken lines. The drawing of geoinetrical figures, as regular polygons, in all conceivable attitudes and of' all dimensions, until the slightest deviation in each figure fi'oni its correct shape and proportions can be detected, should follow. No amount of time spent in this attainment can be mnisemployed; as Lionardo da Vinci hints in his maxim, "Remember to acquire accuracy before attempting quickness." The second lessons in drawing are in curves. First, all the regular curves in the conic sections as circles, elli1)pses, parabolas and hyperbolas, should be copied till by a single sweep of the pencil any one of them can be accurately delineated; then every form of irregular or broken curves may be attempted. Finally, the combination of these different curves in every variety of form and figure which fancy may conceive should be executed with the pencil. The de,sign of these preliminary lessons is to enable the pupil, first, to miaster all the combinations of lines possible; second, to coinprehend the modifications to which the outline of an object is subjected by being viewed at every variety of angle and at different Distances firom the observer. It is in the nice discrimination of chlanges wrought by miniute variations of position that character for truth and beauty in drawing consists; as a careful inspection of engravings after works of the best masters strikingly illustrates. 1I 0 113 ART CRITICISM. Thie next lessons are in figures of natural objects; in whose outline both straight and curved lines are united; such as, first ordinary utensils, cups and mechanics' tools; then houses, fences and other larger ol)jects having regularly shaped figures. After these, the features of the human countenance and the parts of the human form are the most instructive study; first, the separate features and parts of the body, as the nose, the eye, the hand, the foot; then their combination in heads and entire human figures, at first nude, and afterward clothed in varied costume and drapery and in different pI)ostures. Sir Joshua Reynolds makes this the first and great study essential to success in the highest works of art; and he regards the secret of the grace and beauty seen in the finished works of the ancients their "attentive and well-comipared study of the human form." In drawing the human features and figure, models in nature and plaster casts made fiom nature, as halnds, feet, busts and complete statues, may be used. Leslie objects to pupils drawing the human form too long firom antiques or plaster casts; and cites Sir Joshua Reynolds' suggestion that students begin very early to draw from life. After the human figure those of animals, quadrupeds, birds, fishes, and insects may be drawn; while flowers, fruits, single shrubs and trees should be made the last essays in single objects. The executing of group)s, as clumps of trees, ranges of buildings, herds of cattle, near views of single trees with foliage worked up, and finally of all the varied and extended combinations and coimplications of the landscape, will be the crownting effort of the pencil. In vegetable forms, the complicated interior, which in man and in animals is hidden as in a case, is laid open to the eye, and must with its convolutions be copied by the pencil. It is this delineation, especially in landscape, in which Ruskin supposes the moderns have excelled the ancients. This, however, is to be remembered. The very exposure to the eye of the fixed forms and open workmanship of the vegetable creation makes it but a work of secondary skill to copy a flower; while to conceive the ever-changing and hidden swell and play of the human muscles is a profound study and its execution most difficult. This indicates that the ancients, who so highly excelled in the greater work, nmight have proved in the easier field still more in advance of the moderns ha,d tl ey turned their attention to landscape drawing. 114 PROPORTION AND METHODS OF LEARNING. 115 SECT. 2. I)PlOPORTION IN THIE OUTLINE OF PLANE I)RAWINGS. Next to the executing of lines of a definite contour coiiics tlho study of just proportions in the differelnt parts of figures. IIere the work is two-told; first, the preserving of the respective size of each part in a figure drawn in its natural dimensions; second, the securing of the proper enlargemient or diminiution in drawings miade upon an increased or reduced scale. To assist in first essays at executing proportion, artificial aids may be for a time employed. The old masters recommended laying off the parts, as in plotting, by the dividers. D)r. Bell, the enmiient writer on anatomy in its relation to art, recommends the diawing of a network of parallel lines over an engraving to be copied, or holding such a network of threads between the eye and the object in nature to be copied. As the astronomical observer measures the transit of a starI by the net-work of spider's web in the field of his instrument, as the ilap drawer locates different sections of country by the parallels within which they lie, and as the enmbroiderer has a network pattern to follow. so the proportions of any object are most rapidly and distiiictly learned by observing the squares in such a network in which the different parts naturally fall. This method, as is seen in the siiiall ruined temple of Ombos near Syene, was employed by l]gyptian artists; a network of fine lines being first traced over the field of their work. All artificial resorts, however, are to be laid aside when the pupil begins to draw; and the eye must be trained to be its own measurer. In studying proportionl the human figure most strikingly illustrates the extent to which the Creator has carried the law of intermeasurement in the forms of beauty given us as models. Lionardo makes the important remark: "In proportion the length of figures is to be regarded more than their breadth; for the propo)'tioliate le(igths of the different parts of the human fianie vary very slightly." The breadth and fullness of the human figure vary greatly in the changes of life; while the stature is fixed to the uiinvarylling standard of the bony fianmework. In drawing all objects in nature, Lionardo teaches that altitude should first be regarded; then it i main proportions should be fixed; after which the finish of details nmay conmmence. A second study in p)roportion relates to the scale of diminution ART CRITICISM. in plane drawings made for different purposes, and of objects of varied sizes. The study of natural ob)jcects will soon give such a practical knowledge of the proportionate size of their parts that the artist's hand will possess an almost niagical skill in preserving the scale of proportions he has adopted, whether the subject be a mountain compressed into a miiniature, or the leg of an insect magnified by the microscope. The clharacteristic features, as well as the beauties of every object, consist in its main proportions and the distribution of its masses; not in its mere accessories and ornaments. SECT. 3. ELEMENTARY SHADING; TIIE REPRESENTING OF THIE TIIIRD DIMENSION IN PLANE DRAWING. In drawing, the outline first sketched gives no idea of the iotundity of a fignure. In nature the impression that a form observed is a solid body arises fiom the shadows on its surface. The suln's rays )roceeding in parallel lines light up the parts of an object on which, because unobstructed, they directly fill; while the shaded parts are those on which the rays do not directly strike because they are interrupted by solid projections. The imitation of this law of nature in drawing gives the penciled outline the asp)ect of the real object. By Descriptive Geometry it may be determined aside from observation what portions of an object will be shaded in nature, and what parts of a drawing must therefore be shaded; but the habit of observation gives the artist the practical science that enters into this art. )lethlods of shading have differed in different eras, and in the pratctice of different masters. Sonie ancient engravers covered the shaded parts with a regular network of striaighit lines crossing each other at angles of about eighty degrees. The method called "hatching," firom the French h(tcher, to hack or notch, acconimplished by lines jutting in from the outlines like the chiip)ings of a hatchet upon the edge of a board, is appropriate in giving the slopes of mountains. Ruskin refers to the fact, that Raphael arind Lionardo da Vinci shaded even rounded surfaces with short straight lines; and he regards this the mark of a great master. The old Geriman masters differed much in their style of shadi,ng; employing lines straight or curved, dots or rubbings of India ink, of red or black crayon, as seemed best to suit their end; varying 116 CHIIAROSCURO OR GRADATION IN SHADE. 117 their mnethod in works of different character: while, too, the same artist had different styles for the same work at different periods of life. Their great ailm was to secutre a resemnblance to Nature by as few lines as possible. SECT. 4. CIATROSCURO; TIIE GRADATION OF LIGHT AND SHAD)E. In nature no shadow is completely dark. Ptays of light falling oi obljects, rough or polished, and having faces either perpendicular or oblique to the illuminating beamns, are reflected with more or less col,pleteness, according to the character of the surface, and in directions corresponding to the inclination on which they fall. Thus objects in nature have shades proportioned to the amount of lig,lht they receive. This effect is illustrated when two lamIps in the same room cast each its own separate shadow of any form; a half shade being seen where the li,lght of one only of the two lamps falls. In the sunlight the number of counter lights from reflection is without numiber, and the gradations are correspondingly numerous. The Italian word chiae osc?tro, or clear-obscure, designates this half shade inll nature and in drawing. Lionardo who, inii the revival of art in ItaNly, taught its principles, has the following suggestions: Observe well amiong the lights, which, and how many hold the first ranki in point of brightness; and so among the shadows darker than others. Observe, also, in what mannier they blend together; compare the quantity and quality of one with the other; and observe to what part they are directed. Be careful also of your outlines, or divisions of the mnenmbers. Peremark well what quantity of parts are to be on one side, and what on the other; and then where they are more or less apparent, broad or slender. Lastly, take care that the shadows and lights be united, or lost in each other; withlout any hard strokes or lines. As smoke loses itself in the air, so are your lights and shadows to pass firom one to the other without any aplparent separation." Ruskin enlarges on light touches which give true shading in water and cloud; the former requiring delicate curves aniong the parallels to indicate shadows and ripples; while to attain skill in the latter, he recommends his pupil to draw a bunch of cotton placed in the rays of the sun. ART CRITICISM. SECT. 5. TIHE APPLICATIONS OF PLANE DIRAWING. The most important applications of plane drawing are found in the mechanical arts and in surveying. The manufacturer of a chair must first draw his pattern for a new fashion; of which work the patent agency furnishes an endless variety. The ordinary house builder mnust have a ground-plot plan of each story; while the finiMhed architect requires elaborated sketches of every section of interior and exterior details. The business of the surveyor calls into requisition the same art. The humblest farmier needs a plot of his fields, and the country maiden of her flower-bed. To execute these skillfully requires the theory derived firom geometrical study, and practice with the draw — ing-pencil. In the plotting of a field a mere outline is required. In the mapping of a town, the outline, including the great high ways, is to be first laid down, as in the plot of a field; and then the varied delineation of roads, and water-courses, forests and open fields, houses and other building,s is to be artifically represented with the pencil. In ordinary miaps the observer is regarided as looking fiom above; roads are represented by two parallel lines; railroads by two pal)rallels with cross lines or bars; unfinishe(l railroads by the absence of one of the side lines; water courses l)y two lines varying slightly from parallel with flint parallels between; plain land by dots sprinkled over the surfatee; sheets of water by faint parallels; forests by involved curves representing tree tops; rocky lands by broken dark lines forming irregular figures; dwelling-houses by small parallelogramns; and public buildings by larger parallelogramns with dots for front coltumns or spire. In niaps of a more extended region, the parallels of latitude and the lines of longitldle are first drawn; then the general outline of sea-coast, of mountains, rivers and state linits; and then the minuter delinieations of towns, high-roads and lakes. The coast is -marked by short horizontal parallels projecting fironom it; and nMountains by a dark-ribbedcl delineation following the track which water-courses flowing firom tlhemn would take. In the representation of sections of railroad, and of the elevation of a country above the water level, a view of a perpendicular face is given. Upon a horizontal line perpendiculars of the proportionate height and distance fiom each other are raised, and the outline 118 PERSPECTIVE AND FORESHORTENING. of the surface is drawn above in broken curves. Ledges of rock in such outlines are represented by oblique parallels, water-chiannels by fine horizontal parallels, sand by fine dots, and gravel by coarse dots. Thle proportion as to size between the object and the drawing is in mechanical drawings from one-fourth to one-eighth of the natural object; in architectural drawings one-fourth of an inch to a foot; and in maps and plots, a given number of inches to a rod, a chain or a mile. In the U. S. Coast Survey, the proportions in niapping, are expressed in fixed decimals; varying according to the size of the chart from the proportion of 1 to 5000, up to that of 1 to 400,()00. In the engineer service, the proportion for plans of buildings is 1 to 120; of railroad sections 1 to 600; of maps of an extended country 1 to 2640, or two feet to a mile; the scale enlarging with the extent of surface. The rule for shading the slopes of hills and mountains is for a descent of 75~, nine of black to one of white, and thence decreasing to a slope of but 2~ 30 mn., where the proportion is one of black to ten of white. CHAPTER II. PERSPECTIVE DRAWING; THE REPRESENTING OF FORMS LOCATED IN PLANES MORE OR LESS REMOTE. IN Plane Drawing the parts of an object are represented as they appear wien the eye is equally distant from every part. In Perp)ective Drawing the parts of an object more distant from the eye are represented as diminished in size according to their remoteness. SECT. 1. THE NATURE OF PERSPECTIVE, AND OF FORESHORTENING. The term "perspective" means looking through. In a perspective drawing there is added to a plane drawing in the foreground a lengthened view of objects in the background. The law of perspective in nature is, that objects dimninish in size as their distance froIn the eye increases. This arises firom the law of optics, 119 ART CRITICISM. that the angle of vision filled by a small object near the eye takes in objects however lairge within its range in the distance; and also on the correspondent geometiical law. that in trian,gles the angle opposite to a side of fixed length diminiishes in proportion as the leng,th of the sides containilng it are increased. A simple niethod of illustrating to the eye perspective in nature is to look at a landscape through a network of' lines crossing each other at equal distances; when the largest object in tlhe distance will be seen to fill a square no larger than that occupied by a smiall ol,jeet netar the eye. A simple method of assurilng the eye of the geometrical law of diminution is to look at any object, as a man, across the edge of a graduated ruler; when the form which covers ten inches near the eye will be seen to cover but five inches at double that di.stance. An easy method of aecustoiiiing the hand to tiace correctly the proportions of objects in perspective, one recommended by the ablest miasters and repeated by Ruskin, is to hold a pane of -lass between the eye and the landscap)e, and to trace with the pencil upon the glass the outline of a row of trees, or other similar objects. As th)is diminution of the proportions of a retreating object exists in two dimensions, length and breadtlh, or in both the vertical and horizontal axes of the field of vision, tlhc proportions of an object diminiiish as tl.e square of the distaluce increases. The law of heat, light, electricity, and mragiinetisiii is the same, since their force issuing from a centre goes out in space cnlarging in two dimensions. Plane and Perspective Drawing are distinct in the end they propose, as well as in their method. Plane drawing is designed to represent only thle fice of an object, as a model of a machine or the firont of a house, to be a guide to a workman. The eye in executing the drawing is supposed to nmove and to place itself at the same distance firom each part of the figure; as the workman nioves his position in executinlg each part of his work. In a plane drawing, therefore, all lines are parallel in thle model of' the draftsman which are parallel in the ol)ject itself; this representation being essential for the mechanic. Perspective drawing is designed to represent distant and near objects as they appear to the eye firom one fixed point of view. Lines therefore which in nature are parallel, as the tops and bottoms of a row of trees, the eaves and sills of a house, or the side-walks of a street, arc miade to colnverge in the drawing toward 120 METHOD)S OF IILUSTRATING PERSPECTIVE.. 121 a point where they mieet each other in the picture as they apparently meet on the horizon in nature. The drawing in perspective of the parts of an object near the eye but oblique to its line of vision, called "foreshortening," is the imost difficult work in the art of drawing. The effect of oblique vision is illustrated by turning a pencil about firom a perpendicular throug,h an arc of 90~, and observing its aspect in changing fromnt the long cylinder of its entire length to the mere circle of its end. To copy with the pencil these changes requires the highest skill in the art of drawing. Foreshortening is required in drawing the leg of a person seated, or an arm projecting obliquely; in sketching animials with their limibs or bodies advanced toward the beholder; also in a landscape drawing where trees or other objects are leaning in different directions. SECT. 2. THE PRACTICAL EXECUTION OF DRAWING IN PERSPECTIVE; AND ARTIFICIAL METHTODS OF ILLUSTRATING ITS PRINCIPLES. Teachers of art suggest that the first lessons of the student in perspective be the copying of the best engravings to acquire the ?iietlo(7 of the e)ngraver in the execution of perspective. Proceedimg then to nature, the first attelmpts should be mlade in delineating the faces of olbjects with regular straight sides, as a cubic block, a house with its windows., or a door standing open at different angles; the eye looking at the imore rceiote over the equal side nearer the observer. The drawing of the top of a cup or drinking glass, p)laced at different angles to the eye, gives practice in tracing curves in perspective. These lessons in single objects nmay be fol(lo)wed by diawing regular rows of trees and houses and chairs; then rows of aniiials and men. As a last study portions of landcape more and maore extended miay be attempted. P'ietro di Boirgo, the earliest mnodern writer on the science, suggested the tracing of persp)ective on glass held between the eye and the landscape; a suggestion approved by Ruskin. Albert D)urer constructed a machine which could be adjusted so as directly to measure the proportions of objects seen in perspective. Other teachers have s-uggested the holding of a thin paper on which the drawing is to be taken aga.li and again before the eyes, and lo(oking at the line of objects across the edge till their proportionate height and breadth comipared with that of the drawing paper is fixed. 11 F ARPT CRITICISMf. Yet others have recomilnended the use of a jointed liller, opening with its hinge farthest from the eye, so that its sides sloping to an angle shall take in and range with the perspective lines of the objects to be copied; when, by placing the ruler on the drawing paper and tracing lines along the inside of the armns till they meet at the joint of the ruler, rows of houses, trees or other objects tmay be drawn of their altitude in pe,rspective. The eye, however, should soon come to be its own measuler in fixing and following the I,)erspective lines; as in plane drawing, the eye iiust learn to mieasure the proportions of objects drawn after a given scale. SECT. 3. THE LINES AND POINTS TO BE FIRST FIXED IN PERSPEC TIVE DRAWING. In perspective drawing the horizontal lile, toward which al] lines above and below the observer slope, is to be first fixed. In nature the line of the "horizon," a term derived fiom the Greek verb "horiizo" to limit, is at the remotest point visible where the sky and earth seem to meet. In a long hall or street, as well as in the landscape and the canopy of sky, all lines above and below seem to slope downward and upward to this common line. The science of perspective teaches the method of copying in a drawing made with the pencil this law of vision. To aid in fixing this line Lionarido gave this rule: "The point of sight must be taken on a level with the eyes of a comnion man, and be placed upon the horizon; which is the line formed by a flat country terminating with the sky." As that level is about five feet above the general surface, and as most objects, houses, trees, hills and mountains are above the artist's eye, the horizontal line in most perspective views is placed near the bottom of the picture. The bird, however, unlike man, soars above the earth; and there is more below than above his horizon. In taking a view from a mountain top, from a lofty rock, or from an elevated steeple, the artist occupies the position of the bird; and hence is said to take a "bird's-eye view." In general, the elevation, supposed or real, of the artist's stand-point while taking a view, deternines the height on the picture of the horizontal line. In views of the interior of an elevated edifice, as a cathedral, the height of thle horizontal line is about one-tenth of the distance firoom the bottom to the top of the picture; in architectural exterior views of houses, streets, 122 VANIStIING AND DISTANCE POINTS. one-sixth; in extended landscapes one-third or one-fourth; in domestic scenes one-half or one-third; and in hisitorical paintings, where a limited view from an elevated position is taken, about three-fifths of the same distance. In lan(idscape the Flemish artists, accustomed to the Jowlands of hIolland, have fixed the line of their horizon very low; while Swiss, Scotch, and Italian painters in a mountain region have followed an opposite rule. In the period previous to Ral)hael, the horizontal line was often fixed at the extreme height of four-fifthls, and even of ninie-tenthls of the tlltitude of the picture, thlus giving to their works the aspect of bird's-eye views, and precluding the execution of landscape proper. The design of this method was to furnish a large field for the firont view and action; thus leaving, little for the backiground' and the repose of the picture. In general the horizonItai line in a perspective view is placed higher or lower on the picture according to the height of the artist's elevation, or to the extent of the field of action embraced in his design. After the horizontal line, the point on that line called "the vanishing-point," is to be fixed. As lines above and below the eye seemn in the distance to converge to a horizontal line, so liles on either side of the eye seem to converge firom either hand to a perpendicular line; and these two combined effects make the secemingi convergence tend to one point. This point, called the vanishingpoint, is on the horizontal line at the point immediately before the eye of' the artist, whence he can take in the whole of his picture without turning his head. In any drawing there may be subsidiary vani.hiiig-points to which the liles of certain portions of the picture converge; points located within the picture, or without it, on either side; but all lying in the horizontal line prolonged. The principal vanishling-point is the one to which all lines parallel to the line of vision tend; as the walls of a hall, the sides of a street or valley within which the artist is located. It will be either at the cenitre of the picture, or, as the artist works with his right hand, a little to the left of his main standing-point. In the " Last Supper" of Lionardo, the principal vanishing,-poinrt is at the eye of Christ in the very centre of the group. In subsidiary parts of the picture, as in the eii(Is of buildings whose fr.) rts tend to the prinelpal vanishinig-point, and in all objects at either side of the line of vision, the convergence of parallels in the object is to p)oints on the 123 AlAT CiIIT[ICIS5I. horizon toward whichl those parallels are directed. In a perspective view of a hall, the fironts of chairs and benches ranged onl either side would converge to the principal, and their sides to a coinimon subsidiary vani.hing-point; but articles of furniture standing obliquely lmust have each its own separate vanishing-point. The same is true to a greater extent in a large field with many figures. The dist(imice-polit or ec-poiit is the opposite of the vanishingpoint; the point wiithott and in fiott of the picture, to which the lines of light coaling firom each of its parts to the eye of the beholder also converge. The artist constructs his work with the design that it be viewed firom his own fixed point of view i4firoiit of the picture, and at a certain distance. Its distance in firont of the picture must be such that every part of the picture without the turning, of the eye will fall within the algle of vision. lPusluin says to young artists:'"first fix the st(ttioit-poiJit, or distance at which you will stand firom your picture." Lionardo gives these directions: "Pememiber that objects diminish in size as distance increases. In calculating this diminution, stand at twice the length of your picture from it. Rlleiieber that if you vary your distance, you vary the rate of diminution. It miust be ole pooit, not only in distance, but also in elevation and laterally. It should be on a level with the eye of a man of ordinary stature." The practical effect of an error in this respect is seen in photogral)hsii whl(n one part of the person, as a hand, is advanced in firont of the other parts. Raphael's chosen distance foi the eye of the beholder was one and one-half the breadth of his picture. Some objects, however, require three lengths of the picture as the distance of the eye-point; the larger dimensiorn, whether height or breadth, being the one to regard. In all eases it should be the point where the field of vision takes in at a sili,gle glance, and without the tirainig of the eye, the entire picture; while at the same time the eye can be directed to each separate part of the picture without the turii6ig of the head. The skill of the artist in the selection of "eye-points" is magical in the illusion of frescoed walls and ceilings, which seem to open outward to the living landscape, and upward to the floating clouds, in which, however, the illusion fails and the enchantment is lost, unless viewed fi'om the proper point 12-1 GEOMElTRICA. IJ XECUTION OF PERSPEFCTIVE. 1 25 SECT. 4. PlIN(cIPLES OF DESCRIPTIVE GROMErTRY AND PROJE(:TION ENT,-ERI,N-O INTO PErfSPECTIvE DRAwING. Though genius for art nmay enable the pupil to beconme practically efficient in executing perspective, yet a knowledge of tlhe science that eters into thle art is m7ost inmportant to the artist, and all ilmportant to the amateur who has little or no time for practice. A brief reference to the leading apl)plications of geometrical seienlie to )perspl)ectivNe is therefore requisite. DI)escriptive Geometry presents the laws for representing with natheimatical accuracy thle visual appearance of objects haviug three dimensions on a plane havibg but two dimensions. This representation is called tlhe ])proj(,ctiot of an object; and the plane oln which it is executed is called the plaliie of)iprOjectioii, or the pcrsl)ectile pI(i,e. Every portion of the theclciess of an object viewed iin fiont of' thie eye lies in one of a series of tvertical planes, or of planes perpl)end(licular to the line of viion; and every portion of the h(,i',//lt of the same object also lies in a series of horizo)ntal planes, oi of planes parallel to the line of vision. In projection, all the parts of an object are referred to two planes called the vertical and t,le horizontal; and the artist is obliged to transfer the representatioIls iil)(n both these planes to the one plane of projection or of p(i,Sl)eetive. Pe-criptive Geometry treats first of the metlhodils of projecting on the 1llane of the drawing sin,le oljects with stralit or ciuveil] linte, as their contour; secO?i(:, of drawing straight lines and 1)ladne srfilaces as tancgenits to curved( lines and cuirved(l surfces, suchl as circles and spheres, ellipses and ellipsoids; and thiril, the nmethod of re-)presenting the intersections of various bodies bounded by curved lines, as cylinders, cones, etc., whichl cut each other. T'o illustrate the first princil)le, a book set upon its edge on a table may represent the vertical, while the table represents the hoiizont-! plane. If a )encil be held between the eec and tlhee two planes its trace will be straighlt or bent accordidg as it falls in Ol,e or both planes. A coin thus heled is but a line upon tlle vertical p,lae, whieii viewed lhoiizontally; it is a cirele on the lhorizontal plane lwhen viewed fironom above; and it is an ellipse of greaiter or less eccentricity when viewed fi'om any point between the vertical and horizontal positions. The eye, trained to thlis observation with 11 * AR.T CRITICISM[. the two planes, learns to trace any visual aspect of an object on the single plane of the drawing. The secoii(I principle miay be thus illustrated. On a sheet of tin the suni's riays.are reflected firoom every point of the surface at the same angle. Upon a cylindrical tube, however, the observed reflection will be a single narrow line of light extending firom tollto bottom; while upon a globe it will be but a single circular bright spot; and upon an ellipsoid of a corresponding shape. Thus the bright spot called the white of the eye, indicates by its location the direction in which the eye is turned. The point on the sphere, and the line on the cylinder where the reflection is seen, is the portion of the curved surface which would be touched by a plane mnade tangent to that surface. Lioitardo treats at lengthl of the app)lications of this princilp)le in drawing, and in sculpture. The third principle may be observed in the julncture of the stones in an archl, or in the joinings of imouldings in the ornamental carved work of doors; whose difficult attainment has made the name "joiner'" the designation of a profession in the mechlanic arts. The power to draw the appeararice of such junctures, and that at every conceivable angle, is only acquired after long practice; while the metlhod in theory can only be learned by careful study of Descriptive Geometry. As the plotting of miaps of a limnited extent of country, supposed to be a plane surfaice, belongs to Plane Drawing, so the plottiiig of an extended region as of a hemiisl)lhere, in which the sp)hericity of the globe miust be regarded, requires the aI)pplication of the principles of Perspective and of Descriptive Geomietry. The Greeks employed for this three methods. The first, called anciently analecinia, but now orthographic, supposes the eye of tlhe )behlolder, as in viewing the moon's surface, at a distance relatively infinite. In the second, styled gnonio7iic, the eye is located at tlhe centre of the sphere whose opposite hemis)phere is projected. In the third, invented by Hipl)archus, and called by him plisp)hlee, and used afterward by PI'tolemy, the Roman, aind by the Aralbian geog-al-pheri,, the e-ye of the pl)otter is in the snrface of the sl)here at- the upl-)cr l)ole of the globe whose lower half is copied. A four'thi method. unknown to the ancients, places the eye on tlhe axis of the hemisphere to be plotted, and at a distance above tt such that lines firom the eye to its surface sliall cut the upper sur 126 TRPIGONOMFTRITTC LAWS OF PERSPEC;IrlvE. 127 face of the ]hemis)phere, which is the plane of projection, half-way fromnt its ceintre to its circulifebernce, and at the same time cut the hemnisphere to be projected halfway fi-om its nadir to its horizon. To these four methods of projection that of iMercator has been more recently added. SECT. 5. THE PRINCIPLES OF TRIGONOMETRY AND OF OPTICS AS TIHEY RELATE TO PERSPECTIVE DRAWING. Trigonometry treats of the relation of sides anid angles in triangles, by means of which the size and distance of remote objects are determined. Optics states the laws of the reflection and refraction of light as they relate to human vision. The artist is called to observe especially three points; the diminution of objects in size according to distance, their different shadings as dependent on the laws of the reflection of light, and the distorted appearance of objects seen through a medium that refracts light. The first of these is associated with Plane Geometry, the second with Descriptive Geometry, and the third has a relation to color which connects it with painting. The law of the diminution of objects is associated with that of the distance point. The angle of distinct visionl covers about 30~ in a vertical, and 45~ in a horizontal direction; the chord of the former arc is about one-half, and of the latter about two-thirds of the radius; and hence an object having a breadth one-half greater than its height fills that angle at a distance of twice its Aeight. A picture two feet in height, and three feet in breadth, fills the eye at a distance of six feet; and since a mountain three miles high, four and a-half miles broad at the base and at a distance of ten miles is seen through the firame of suchl a picture without the canvas, the mountain and all the intervening country can be bro,,ught into tile field of that canvas. By the law of reflection a ray of light is bent back at an angle equal to t]iat at which it falls upon the reflecting surface. The form of -Tont Blanc, rising four miles high, about forty miles souitli of Gc-ieva, can be seen reflected or} the bosoml of LTtke Llaii, near lthat city, by a person oil its northern b)ank. The stiiden'c of persl)ective learns by observation that every oliect in nature, even a cloud, is a reflecting surface; that evely body with beveral ftaces throws back light upon objects around it fiom each A RaT CPRTICISSr. of its sides that the angle of each reflection is fixed; and that the intensity of the light reflected is always proportional to the smoothness or polish of the reflecting surface, and to the clearness of the atmosphere through which it passes. The phenomena of refraction had been observed by the oldest painters. The early Egyptian and rude Chinese artists remar'ked that the rays of light are bent downward as they pierce a surftce of water; so that the foot of a man or animal seen in water seeiis raised, and his leg shortened from the point where it enters the water. The Grecian sculptors understood that objects seen through vapor, especially white objects, appear colossal; chiefly, indeed, firom dimniess of outline, which makes them seem moie distant and therefore larger; but partly also, as Lionardo has demonstrated, fiom the law of refraction. The careful study of the laws of Trigonomietry and of Optics is essential to the successful practice of the artist's profession; for though genius in art seems intuitively to catch firom observation of nature the laws of perspective, it will fail in some of their applications if not master of their theory. SECT. 6. THE PERSPECTIVE OF SHADOWS. Shadows in Perspective Drawing are to be distinguished from shades in Plane Drawing. A shade is the darkened portion of an object fion which the light is cut off; a shladow is the indefinitely prolonged space behind an opaque object and in the line of rays of light intercepted by it. The west side of a house is shaded when the sun is rising; while the shadow of the house is cast, for miles even, westward on a line of objects from which it cuts off the suii's rays. The dark portion of the moon is shaded by its own body cutting off the sun's rays; while mountain peaks cast shadows on other peaks in their rear. To represent shadows in perspective correctly three things must be observed; firtst, the position of the luminary; seco)id, that of the object illuminated;.-nd third, that of the observer. The position of the luminary nmay be in front of the observer and ba(.k of the object, and thus the shadow be east toward him; or the hIiniil)aIy may be behind him and the shadow of the object be lbehid the object; or the luminary may be at the observer's right or left, aind the shadow therefore fall at his opposite hand. 128 PER,SPECTIViE OF SIIATDOWS.1 The iniportant lawIs of shadows as they relate to perspective are tile fellowiing. The (elith or darkniess of lihadow is i in roportion to thie tiiounlt of li ht of wi-icih tihey are deplived comil).ired withl that wh-li(h ililiiiinates othler ol)jects' shaldows inl sunigihit beingl, reall- li!lihte thanii in imoonligilit, while nevertheless tlhey lare coiap.lrtitivel daiikeL. The s1(tl)e of a shadow is of the foriii of the objl)ect; eitler a cole coiiverging to its apex, or a cone diverging toward its base, or a cylinder of equal dimenisions througlout, accordiing as the luminiiious centre compared with the object casting the shadow is of greater, less, or equal size. The si2e of a shadow at any given point will depend on the relative size of the luiliillous point as coil)mpared with the object casting tihec siha(dow, and also upon tle distance between the object and the shladed sl)ot as C)iipared with the distance between the object and the lumiinous centre; the shadows fioiom objects on the earthi as mien and trees beiiig substautiallyN of the samiie size as tle objects themselves when cast on a wall ncar by, because thoughi thie size of the sun is iiniiiensely greater than that of a nian on the earth, yet its distance fioln the iiian as comilpared with his distance fiom the wall is equally iilmiense. The le,)gth of siadows is dependent on the sanie C.aIlses as its size; the shadow of the mioon being shiorter than that of the earth in eclipses; as may be illustrated by letting the shiadow of a book larger or smaller, held before a window in bright sunlight, fdll on a siheet of whlite paper. The 7iiattuier of shadows cast by an o)ject depends upon the numiber of centres of lighit, whetlher of the sun or mnioon, or of one or more lamps added to the niumber of reflecting surfaces, as of mirirors, smiooth waters and polished walls, from which lighit is reflected. It is mnainly by skillful copying, of the contrasts of light and shade in nature that the pencil or brushi can imake an object secm to stand out firomir the canvas as real. The artist must, therefore, avail himiself of a time when, and of a point of view where, the most advantage can be taken of the lights and shadows in nature. In portrait painting a position in which the li,ght fills on the countenince a(t an angle of about 45~ fioin above and at one side is miost favorable. In landscape, noonday short shadows give the ilipression of languor, the morning and evening long sihadows of deligltful repose, while the miedium shadows of midforenooii and after F 129 AR,T CRTTICISM. noon ftirnishb the strong contrasts of liglht and shlade essential to the highest relief aild action. In tratcing shadows in an enclosed roomi it must be observed that the lines of light are parallel to each other coming through a window fi'om the sun, but diverge when the lumninous centre is small, as a lamnp's light or an aperture in a window. In shadows thrown upon a horizontal plane, as the floor of a roomi or thle surfaee of the earth, an oblique section of the cylinder or cone of shadow is to be traced; prolonged in length but unclihanged in breadth. When the shadow of an object falls on a broken suiface and upon objects of greater or less height than itself, the nicest care is requisite that the cylinder of shade follow its true line in nature and east a shade of truly p)oortioitate height or length, or of the p)recise breadth of the object on every other object or part of al object behind it. RPuskin specially suggests that thlough tl-le shadigr of water is in the miain to be iiiade by parallel lines, yet great skill is iequiiite in varying the depth of shade according to the shladows ftilliI,g on thle water, and also to insert the broken curves whlich indicate the outline of shadows on its face when smooth, or the ril)plles ul)on it where it is ruffled. SECT. 7. AEPIAL PEI'SPECTIVE, AND ITS RELATION TO CIIIAROSCURO. Distance not only dimiinishles the size but also obscures the distiiictness of objects. Linear perspective relites to the due dimiulition of outline in ditawing distant olbjects. The accurate gradation of distinctness in tlhe shladiig of distant objects belongs to the province of aerial perspective. It is called "aerial'' perspective because the air. whether clear or hizy, has even mnore influence tllhan distance in renderingR a remote object indistinct; as is witnessed in the clear atmosl)phere after a shower of rain. The sha(lding of a single ol)ject demands a practical acquaintance with the principles of lchiaroscuro; otherwise the jutting colCIrners and retiring indentations of an object with plane surfaces cannot be represented to the eNye; and still less can the roundirng of curved(( surfbces be so pictured that the alternate swell of the convex and delpression of the concave will be made to stand out as in the ol)jeet itself. In perspective a second end is to be attained. The known size of a mian, a house, or a tree makes the proportion of thieir dimiinution in a backiground the measure of thlieir distance. On the l30 CUPR,VILINEAR PERPSPECTIvE. other hand, a cliff, a river, a mountain or a cloud has no fixed size; and therefore tlhe space it is mlade to occul)y in the drawi,g is not at all an indication of its distance. It requires a long trair,ing of the eve to determine the distance of such objects in the landscape by their peculiar tinge or shade; so that by the distant blue or the deep black, the beholder is able to judg,e rightly of the miles that intervene between the eye arld the mountain, and to define the shape and the depth of the valleys on its side. It is only the practised huntsman on the prairie, or sailor on the ocean, that formis a just jud,gment of aerial perspective as it exists in nature. The artist has a double task; first, to learn by careful observation, and then to copy the aerial tinges of the landscape. As aerial aspects vary with each alternate atmospheric change, so aerial p)erspective is a distinct and new study in every different country and climate. As in one's own clime the distant hills look nearer of a mnorning after a long stormi, so the linglishmana or HIollanider, accustomed to a murky, hazy or foggy sky, has no standard folr measuring distances in the clear atmosphere of the Aerican prairie, of the desert about Egypt, or of the sunny plains of Italy. The artists of England and Hlolland who have never dreamed of' tlhe brig,ht yellow p)reponderating in the green of a Southern climie, and of seeing the mloon's dark side on a clear night, must be a school distinct from the Italian, the Aimerican, and even the French, in landscape sketchling; since the "aerial perspective" they have studied is so different. SECT. 8. CURVILINEAR PERSPECTIVE; AND TIlE RELATION WHICH THIE ACTUAL CURVE OF PERSPECTIVE LINES IN NATURE HAS TO THEIR REPRESENTATION IN DRAWING. In the Creator's handiwork, in flower, leaf, firuit, twig, branch, and even in the sloping height as well as the rounded sides of the tree trunk, in hill and vale, in mountain top and cloud, in the form of the round world and of the "grand o'erhanging cianopy" of the vaulted sky, there is not, p)erhaps, a purely straight line to be met; while the humian formn, the masterpiece of beauty, has its 3myriad forms of grace wrought out in lines of varied curvature. The Greeks in their best works of architecture followed this hiint of nature; for in tlje Parthenon there is not a singcle purely straight line. 131 APR,T CRTTICTIlf. In nature, too, all lines in themselves straight are in their per spective view cnrved. In the idNtotrgpl1, whiclh Col)ies the lines of a long b1uild(ing as we actually see them, we detect in the copy the fact which we overlook in nature. Careful attention indicates that the floor of an exteinded hall appears to rise in a slightly curvedl line; as every line in the landscape and the vaulted sky seems also curved. By the law of vision every point of each line in persl)pective is not only raised to a horizontal plane nearer the eye, but every point is by this very fact also drawn inward to a vertical plane nearer the eye; hence giving a curved appearance to the perspective line. This law is observed in all mountain and balloon views; from which elevated points the landscape appears as a hollow basin. In drawings upon a small scale, this curvature is so minute that it need not be taken into account; yet nature herself, the only perfect artist, does even in the smallest picture taken by her pencil of light, strictly regard her own law, that the curved line is the line of truth, if it be not the line of beauty. The law of Curvilinear Perspective may be demonstrated by the principles of Geometry and of Optics; and the precise measure of this curvature may be fixed by the Calculus. Suppose the observer to be standing at a distance of 200 feet in front of the centre of a symmietrical building 100 feet long and 40 feet hi,gh. It is manifest while the centre of the front of the building is precisely 200 feet from his eye, each line in the remaining portions of that front, as he looks from the centre toward either end, is more than 2)0 feet from his eye; the ends of the building being about 206 feet distant. As now the space which an object occupies in the angle of vision is less in proportion to its distance from the eye, the apparent height of the building should be about one-thirtieth less at the ends than at the centre. In ordinary vision the knowledge that the building line is straight irresistibly overcomes the impression on the eye; but the photograph dissolves self-deception; and instead of a straight horizontal line it shows a curved line arching upward. The same law applies to the horizontal lines in the building. The one five feet above the ground is at its centre 200 feet firomi the eye. The line, however, running along the top of tl( l)lilding, is about 203 feet at its centre from the eye; and lnust, therefore, be shorter in appearance than the lower line. Thus the vertical 132 THE LTAW OF CUPRVIIT,INEAR PERSPEC IVE. 13 lines at either end of the building seem to slope inwiarid as they rise; which slope the phlotogiall)h makes aI curve. It is equallyv mlanifest that every line or part of a line out of the centre of view. above or below, at the right or the left of the eye on the fie of the buildling, will be correspondlingly curved. This general curvature makes the face of a broad surface seeii to l)e a hollowed curve; the surfitce of a lake or plain, of a broad ceiling or of the heavens, appearing to be concave toward the beholder. The apparent cause of this aspect imay be thus illuistrated. When a coimpany of'ii men all known to be of equal statuire, stand in a line, the observer unconsciously ascribes to the iien at the extremes of the line the samne size as to those at the centie; and hence regards themn as at equal distance. The full effect of this illusion would bring the line into the form of an arc of a circle; whence the former designation of "circular perspective." The eye, however, does in part correct the illusion of the mind; and the nane " curvilinear perspective" is truer to the fact. By the simplest principles of geometry and of the calculus the law of this curve and the rate of its curvature are ascertained; auld it can be laid off readily firom the elements thus obtained. Suppose lines dravwn firom the eye to different points upon the horizontal line immnediately before the eye on the front of the building above mentioned; the first line to the point inimed(liately befoie the eye, the second ten feet to the left of this point, the thi-(l twenty feet, the fourth thirty feet, the fifth forty feet, and the sixth to the end of the building on the left, fifty feet of course fi'oIl the centre. The first of these lines is now the altitude of a rightangled( triangle; while the second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth lines will each be a hypotheTnus.e of a series of right-angled( tri-nlg(les with bases severally of ten, twenty, thirty, forty and fifty feet. Each hypothenuse is the distance of the eye firom the vertical line running firomn the top to the bottom of the buil(ling at its ext-lemity; the length in perspective of each vertical line is proportional to the length of the corresponding hypothenuse; and the length of each hypothenuse is found by squaring the altitude and base, adding these squares, and extracting the square root of the sium. The curve may be drawn by laying off on an abscissa ordinates which shall be to each other inversely as the square root of the suim of the squares of two quanti,i',. one of which is fixed, while the other 12 ART CRITICISTM. increases at the same rate as that abscissa. The curve may be traced through the termini of these ordinates thuls laid offt.' It is only in very recent times tlhat the execution of perspective in extended landscape is giving practical value to these principles long observed. Tibaldi, a leading master in the 3olotgnese school, wrote three centuries ago, "The horizon of nature is a circular line; but this line drawn on a plane horizontally at the point of view is a straight line." HIerdian, a recent and conlprehensive writer, says of curvilinear perspective, "In views of large extent its use will give greater beauty and less distortion than rectilinear perspective;" and thus he adds, "Lateral extents and spaces hitherto totally unattainable in art mnay be wrought with truth, in accordance withl whlat is see,." SECT. 9. BINOCULAR VISION, IN ITS RELATION TO PERSPECTIVE. The distance between the two eyes in ordinary persons is about two and one-half inches, which is termnled "the visual base." When a small ol)ject is placed near the nose, as a tliini book, one eye views one side, and the other the opposite side. At their focus, and beyond, the two eves see more than hlalf'thle circeiumference of a ball or other object. This two-eye( or " binocular" vision, which led Wheatstone to the idea of the stereoscope, has suggested mnethods in drawing for giving roundness, projection and life-like relief to objects in the foreground. By binocular vision distalnt )objects directly behind near ones are fully seen. If a book be held between the two eyes and in firont of a wa-(ll, the right eye alone locates it on the wall far to the left of its ~cntral position, and the left eye alone far to the right; while both eyes see tlle entire wall behind it. From this effect two iimportant principles are suggested in the execution of perspective. The object near the eye is ii'(i.siitctlg seen; while objects iimmediately behind it are completely observed. A careful attention to the inmpression on the eye will indicate that two separate images are recognized on the retina, and that two projections of these inages are thrown Ul)oln the background. Takiniig a -- altitude, x — base, y-= hypotelicilse, we have y2 = 2 xdx + X2; whience y = 1/V a xl. I)iflbrentiating, dy -- - xd' 1 "-3) 4 LAW OF BIJ\OCULTAR PEP,RSP,CTIVE. Lionardo, in his " Pules in Pt,inting,," describes the effects of binocular visionI at leiingtli; and directs: " The a lall held lt,ee a iwall is painted, the p)ainted fig(ure must cover the space bli;!l it. Since, then, when seen with both eyes, the wall would a1)1)':; behind the ball, the painter should place a mirror before the oli(j(ct, anid paint it as it is seen reflected looking at the ob)ject witl (llee eye only.'' This monocular or one-eyed method thus taught hs required reconsideration in the age of landscape paintilg preolec In England Sir David Brewster has written upon the geicmil theory of binocular vision. Professor Wlieatstoiie has applied it to the construction of the stereoscope; and James Ha.ll hais discusst..ed its relation specially to art execution. By its law eaeli line in perspective not parallel to the picture has two vaiisliig points," one coirrespoiding to each eye. Hall's suggestions arc (fle'iC: Fi'st, all objects should first be constructed of life-size as lthey appear to both eyes when diiected to the principal object, atII(l on a vetcal plae passingi through t he prinicipal part of the cliief' obiect; and the "duplications and regulated obscurities" uiider which the veiy near objects are seen should be introduced. Seco)i(l, this life-sized construction should be reduced to the miniiature scale of the artist's design and be filished as seen by both eyes, with tlhe "regulated obscurities" still retained. In sul)port of this view, I-Hall cites the experience of the best artists; fii'st, that the view of an olject, diawn in perspective with olne eye, has Iess l),ec(t(lth tll;,!] it' dlawin with two eyes; and seco(d, that a ioiilocular view of' -' oe,jeet gives no measure of its distance. Its adol)tion Itall tliuks would realize Sir Joshua Hleynolds' suggestion as to the oveirwoikin,g of mninor details by able artists. The pre-Rapl)iaelite tli(oi'y was that the eyes of the artist be adjusted to eveiry part of tl,e picture sel)arately; and that he delineate every part of the pietr'e, whetlher in the foreground, miiddle ground, or distance, with tlhe samue distinctness with which he sees it when thus sel)airat(ly viewed. Sir Joshua advised against this miethod; reniiiaikiiig, I have observed that an excessive labor of detail has, nine till(s in ten, been pernicious to the general effect, even when it has been tlhe labor of great masters." Probably Turner has carried to aii extreme this suggestion of Hill. 19,5 li 4 ART CRITICISSf. SECT. 10. THE IIISTORY OF )DRAWING IN PERSPECTIVE. The artists of all rude and half-eicilized nations have fatiled either in ohcrving, or in applying tl-ie laws of vision to dirawing in perspective. In the sculptures and pI)ainitin,s on the monumients of Eoypt the mnost distant in a linc of soldiers, the farthest of fiur chaiiot horses abreast, is drawn of the sanice diinension3 with the neaiest in the line; and objects in nlore distant fields are put in coimpa-rtments in corners of the miain piceture without any apl)alert connection with it. In Chinese paintings either eNverything is put in the foreground, or if there be a background and the figures in it are drawn smnaller, the gradation of the interveninig sp)ace is not preserved, and the geometrical law of convergence in tlhe lines of the picture is not attempted. Vitruvius, the Roman architect of the Atugustan age, thus illustrates the Grecian knowiledg,e of perspective: "AgLatliai-,iis, at the time when JEschylus taugLht at Athlens the rules of' tr,agic poetery, was the first who contrived sceneryv; upon which subject he wriote a treatise. -After him D)emoecritiis and Anaxagoi-as went still further in that way, showing the power of iiiiitating nature by making all the lines to vanish to one poilt as a ceiitre, when viewed at a fixed distance; by which means they are enal,led to represent in their scenery on the stage the imiage of real bIuildliigs as tllhey usually appear to the eye, and that whlethler tlhey were 1)int(d onl hoiizontal or upright surfaces; and thus they exlil)ited(l ol)j,('ts near and remiote. " Pliniiy sa s of IPanphilus, a teiclier of )pailtillg at Athlens in the days of Demosthlenes: "lie was lcaineid,especially in arithmetic and geomnetry; without whose principles lhe declared that art could not be perfected." The revival of the study in modern times has been allied chiefly to the department of landscape painting. The great masters, however, of Italy and of Germany, Lionardo and Durer, have especially developed its principles. 136 HISTORY OF ENGRAVING. CHAPTER III ENGRAVING; THE TRANSFER OF DRAWINGS TO ENGRAVED PLATES FOR THE MIULTIPLYING OF COPIES. IN the progress of art, its applications come often to overshadow the original; as printed books make us foirget the day when the pen copied everything. Engraving, and its kindred arts, but copy that of which the drawing pencil has given an original; and photography, in its various branches, only compels nature to the imposed toil of penciling her own face. SECT. 1. TIIE NATURE AND HIIISTORY OF ENGERAVING. In the stuldy of an art proper we naturally consider the processes before tracing the history of its practice. It is the reverse in ouri c;Ieration of all invention, or the application of the art. Eln gi;:ing originated when drawing as an art was so perfected tha t men sought some method of multiplying its superior creations. An engraving is a drawing cut into wax, clay, wood, stone, metal, or other material; and it is executed for two purposes, first, to )be itself a work of art; second, to be a mechanic's copy iwhose iniplressions are to be works of art. The first kind of eng,raving is allud(led to by Jol, and is preserved now in the monuomeits of Egypt and Assyria of the same age. The second kind of engraving exist(d in its germ in the signet rings of the ancients, worn even by the Plihaia,l()lis of Joseph's time, and also in the dies firom which the earliest rude coins, marked with the image of a sheep, were struck, mientioned in Abralham's day, and found in the oldest tombs of Egypt. Engraving of the formier class in its increasing perfection became the germ of the art of sculpture, while the exquisite specimens of the second kind executed in modern times have made engiraving a master art. To the first class belong the choice relics of Grecian cngravings iiow amiong the richest treasures of art. Even the decoi,itois of ,Iror and rings, described by iHomer, were advanced in the nit. [Icrodotus nmentions maps engraved on metal. In the days of Fiociates engravers were numerous and.killfil; and under Alexan 12 * 137 ART CRITICISM. der Pyrgoteles was so superior that the monarch forbade any other to engrave his portrait. Plates from which to print pictured hierogl-yphics are of very early date. In the oldest tombs of Egypt are found cones of clay stamped by engraved plates. In China the same art existed as early as B. C. 1120; and probably it was never lost inll the East. The modern art seems to have been brought fionm Constantinople to Venice. It was first employed in the copying and iinultiplyiig, of small pictured cards requiring very little art; as playing cards and pictures of saints executed in dark and colored figures. SECT. 2. XYLOGRAPHY OR ENGRAVING ON WOOD. The simplest material for engraving is wood; whence the Greek wvord Xylography. The best woods are box, beech and iiiahoga,ny. The engraving is executed on a section cut across the fil)bre of the standing wood. The picture is first drawn with a pencil on thin or tissue paper, oiled so as to be transparent. A second paper, smeared upon one side with white, red, or blalck chalk, is laid with its chalked face downward uponI the wood to be engraved; and over it is placed the first paper with the drawing upon it downward. With a hard pointed style the lines of the drawing are traced through the two thicknesses of paper upon the wood, so as to leave its lines in chalk upon the face of the wood. Witli a fine chisel a small groove is cut along both sides of each line in the drawing, so us to leave a thin raised edge corresponding to thie lines of the drawing; and the intervening parts of the surface of the wood are scooped out with a gouge. The block thus prepared is used as a stereotype plate in printing; the raised lines only, like the type, being touched by the ink. As the drawing was reversed when traced on the wood, and as thus the engraved block is the reverse of the drawing, the print upon the paper is the reverse of the engraving, on the block, or the original drawing restored again. The more experienced engravers will copy the drawing, directly and in reverse upon the wood. Wlood engraving existed in China under the Eiii)peror Yen Yang, about B. C. 1120; as this allusion in tlie " ]ook of Clianges " then published shows: "As the ink which is used to blacken the engraved characters can never become wlite, so a heart blackened by vices will retain its blacklness." The entire 138 WOOD ANND COPPERT-PI,ATE ENGPAVING. 139 page is written carefully on;hin paper through which the writing is seen; this page is then glued withl the written face downward upon a block of wood of the apple or p)ear trce; when tile engr,aver cuts the block in thle manner already deescribed. The art was introduced into Europe fironom Asia in the twelfth centuly by Venetian merchants. At first the execution was extreimely rude. Only the outside border lines were cut upon the wood; the printed outline being filled in by the colorist. Next inner lines, tracing limbs and features, were introduced; the shlading, however, being left for the finishling touch of the artist. Still later, a species of shading by dots was added; until at length Wohllgemnuthl., a Germian, began to put in the cross-cuts and hatchiii,s which formed the shading of the diawiing. It was, however, among the Flemish airtists, between the eras of YAin i yek., A. D. 1395, and of Albert DtiiurerI, A. 1). 14d95, that engriaving becamie truly a fine art. The difficulty of cutting the nice cross lines to a sufficient thinness, and thle spaces T)etween to a sufficient delpth, to give at once fineness andl clarness to the impression, was overcome by the skill of Albert Durcr. The genius of Hollein gave its last perfection to the art. It is now superseded except in the very coarsest of work by plates of other material. SECT. 3. CHALCOGRAPHY; OR ENGRAVING ON COPPER. The maps engraved on copper mentioned by I-lerodotus were not, like those of our day, designed for printing copies. The word c7irlcogr(-,l)i,yis modern, though the Greeks had similar eomlpoulids; as cltalcoerlyos, to designate the coarser, and c,iolclotyloos, the finler artificer in brass or copper. The main distinction between wood and copper engraving is that the ink is transferrcd to the paper in thle foimer fi'omi raised, and in the latter firom depressed, lines. The ancients took imli-)ressiolns u)upon wax with signets; the soft wax being pressed into the depressions in the engraved seal. The idea, however, that ink might be made to fill the cavities of engraved plates, and that pressure on the plate might cause the fibres of the sleet to be so forced into its depressions as to receive the distinct lines of the engraving, seems not to have occurred to the minds of those accustomed to wood engraving. A happy accident revealed the fact. Anliong the arts of adornment for lchalices and sword-hilts, that AR4T CPRITICISM. called?niclo was extensively practised in Italy. It consisted in filling the depressed lines of the carved or ieibo- fully expressed by the features of animials. CarniN orous quadrIzl)cds. exhibit anger by the corrugations of the lips; the horse by lhi. ears turned back. Courage to a certain extent is exhibited in tlie horse by his eye and nostrils, and by his ears pricked forward. TIlie attitudes of animals Bell regards more expressive than their f, atures. Ilay's principles of mesthetie proportions have their most idiiiiiable applications in sculpture. In architecture the Greeks eniplo)ycd angles whose sines and tangents corresponded with the leiigths of cords producing the tonic, mediant and dominant ill imusic. In statuary they introduced two additional principles, enipl1oying, eleven angles in all, whose sines and tangents correspond ill length to concordant musical cords. The female figure is tu)niided on the right angle; regarded by Pythagoras and Plato as the perfect angle. The male foirm shows a scale of angles obtaill(cd by a transposition of that on which the female figure is constructed. SECT. 8. PRACTICAL EXECUTION OF SCULPTURE. The study of his design, and the working up of its details i:i drawlings, is the first labor of the sculptor. If the artist be a scielitifie iaster, every portion of the rounded form is conceived as )ou,ided by tangent planes; whose slopes are carefully observed, alnd the angles of their junctions noted. The second work is the nioulding in clay of the image elaborated in the drawings. On a fiamework of wood and iron, with arlnils fir the projecting limbs a dark clay of easy-moulding properties is kneaded with the hand into the general outline of the statue; when with small scrapers of wood and ivory the form is completely ron)uded by months of labor. When thoroughly hardened by drying, a mould in sand is iiiade firom the clay figure; in which workilig models in plaster are cast. The Egyptian sculptor built a staging around the granite block to be cut into a statue, and fironm the sides of this staging the artist laid off the depth into the stone which each workman was to cut. The Greek artist having conceived the position of his statue in the marble block, had kindred metlhods of directing the workmen. Lionardo gives this stateilent of the methods of sculptors at his day. "To execute a figure in marble, you must first make a model 169 15 11 ART CRITICISM. of it in clay, or plaster, and when it is finished, place it in a square case, equally capable of receiving the block of marble intended to be shaped like it. Have some peg-like sticks to pass through holes made in the sides, and all round the case; push them in till every one touches the model; marking what remains of the sticks outward with ink, and making a countermark to every stick and its hole, so that you may at pleasure replace themn again. Then having taken out the model, and placed the block of marble in its stead, take so much out of it, till all the pegs go in at the same holes to the marks you had made." The common method of modern times is to insert in an upright post on a wooden stand sliding armis graduated into minute divisions of inches. In a square marked on the floor sufficiently large to allow lines dropped from the extremities of the plaster figure to fall within its limits, the model is placed; when the sliding armis of the gauge are pushed toward the model till they touch its extreme points. The gauge is then placed before the block of marble and the stone is cut away until its arms meet the chipped block as they fitted the model. Thus every portion of the entire figure is brought to its required proportions. The genius of the aitist conceives his design, elaborates it with the pencil, and moulds it in clay. The mere cutting down of the rough stone may be performed by a comnmon mechanic. This work, however, must be hourly presided over by the genius that conceived the ideal. No man can be a great artist who is not a man of practical science; since the workmen, literally his "hands," must be guided by his one mind. CHAPTER II. PRIMITIVE SCULPTURE; ILLUSTRATED IN THE EGYPTIAN. THE earliest records of the human race, mention Tubal Cain the seventh from Adam as "an instructor of every artificer in brass and iron." The oldest monuments of Egypt present every form of sculpture; and the most ancient histories of Moses and Herodotus 170 CHARACTERISTICS OF EGYPTIAN SCULPTURE. 171 allude to perfected methods of sculpture as practised from time immemorial; Egypt being the first and chief centre of the art. SECT. 1. CLASSES OF EGYPTIAN SCULPTURE AND METHODS OF EGYPTIAN SCULPTORS. The Egyptians have left every form of sculpture. The hieroglyp)hics are cut into obelisks of granite in deep.fttaglio; whoso slharp and clear side lines make the figure of the smallest size perfeetly distinct antid even beautiful in its darkness of shade. Sculptures in low-i}leef of animated battle-scenes are cut on the walls of temples in sand.stone; the entire walls of "hundred-gated Thebes" beiiig covered with these sculptures. The sculpture in the tombs, somletimes in high-relief, is upon a hard stucco, whose composition has not yet revealed its secret to modern analyzers. The capitals of columns called Osiride present a perfect relief in firont; sometimes as at Aboo Situbel having a shaft wrought into a half-statue. Trheir statues of red or black granite and of a graysish porllphyritic limestone, have a massiveness beyond conception wonderful. The single relic at Alemiphis is sixty feet high in a standing posture; the vocal alemonon and its brother at Thebes are sixty feet high in a sitting posture; while one of red granite, now prostrate and shattered, is calculated by Sir Gardner Wilkinson to have weighed over eleven hundred tons. The work of executing these colossal statues is illustrated on the walls of the tombs. The stone, first quarried in the granite ledges of Syene, was set up on its lower end, already squared as a base. Stages were erected for the stone-cutters about seven feet above each other quite to the summit of the block. Under a chief artist as guide, hewers, with large picks and heavy mallets, succeeded by sitioothers with light chisels and by polishers with rubbers, began at the head and worked downward. When completed the finished statue was placed on a strong wooden sledge, which was made to slide on a wooden railway. Drag-ropes were fi,stened to the sledge at which thousands of men ptlled. directed by a superintendent perched in the lap of the statue; and men with oil, or water, in pots, lubricated the rails before the sledge. These minute processes of the sculptor were, in the later ages, forgotten in the grand array of force employed in Egyptian art. 7A RT CRITICISM. SECT. 2. THE ANATOMICAL SKILL DISPLAYED IN EGYPTIAN SCULPTURE. In Egypt, though there were, as Herodotus states, physicians for the eye, ear, teeth, and for special diseases, the study of human anatomy related to external dimensions, not to muscular development. The stature was well-proportioned, being inade seven and one-third measures of the height of the head; while the hips were at the centre of the height. The features are regularly rounded, and the expression is placid; but the samle asp)ect is given to the S)hynx at )lem)his and the )Ieniiion at Thlebes, to the king on his tlhrone and the warrior in battle, to the miourner at a funeral and the laborer in the field. As there was no contraction of the muscles of the face giving expression to emotion in the Egyptian statue, so there was no variation of posture in the head giving occasion for different expression. In reliefs there is always the same uniform profile view; and in statues there is no turning of the head, or bending of the neck. The proportionate breadth of the chest and hips of maile and female figures is not observed; the contraction of the loins and the taper of the chest in both being exaggerated.'l'he shoulders, too, are set off from the body as if they were app [,i es to the frame. The chief defect in Egyptian sculpture is the utter extinction of life in the figures. The erect colossal statues all have the hands and feet straightened down like a corpse laid out for burial. The seated statues have both arms stretched out by the side of the leg; as motionless as those of an old man asleep in his arm-chair. In bas-reliefs the arls and legs of men in every enmploy, whether wielding javelins or swords, whips or hammers, whether walking, marching, running or leaping, all have the same stiff, motionless, petrified outline and contour. There is no bending of the neck or contraction of the muscles, no rounding of the joints or projecting of the joint bones from the strain of the muscles. The fine proportion of limb and accurate representation of features so often quoted in Asiatic and Egyptian sculpture are but the mechanical woriking up of a co)py; there could have been no study of living miI)dels among the Egyptian sculptors. As there is no life, no 172 MORAL FFEATUPRES OF EGYPTIAN SCULPTURE. 173 elasticity of bodily frame, so of course there is no thinking soul animniating the body in Egyp)tian sculpture. Winekelnianna has well sugg,ested that the aim of the Egyptian sculptor was to imipress by?iajgrit[(7le, not by expression in his figures. The characteristics enulmerated are observed not only in the early and primitive Egyptian sculpture, but also in the ages of genuilne development and progress. They mar even the sl)irited battle-scenes upon the walls of the newer portion of the Temple of Karnac at Thebes; in which the men and horses have a life and vigor if not a grace worthy of even the Grecian chisel. SECT. 3. THE CHORAL TONE CHARACTERIZING EGYPTIAN SCULPTURE. The lack of anatomical accuracy, or rather vivacity, characterizing Egyptian sculpture, is mainly attributable to the moral spirit of the "wise inea'" who controlled the aritist, repressing his genius. Synesius, a native E,gyptian, a pupil of the famed Hypatia, aft(er he became a Christian, stated: "Among the Egyptians the prophets did not allow metal-founders or statuaries to represent the gods, for fear that they would deviate firom the rule." As a consequence statues of kings, supposed as deified to assume forIsn and features like to each other, must be assimilated to the commion celestial model; and hence, too, even in bas-reliefs of ordinary men and animals, the people refused to allow their old favorites to be displaced by novices. The superstitious horror of marring the body of the dead by dissection, lest the soul should thereby suffer, which, even in Greece at the time of Demosthenes, compelled the student of anatomy to hide his dissecting-roomn in caves of the i.ountains, had a still greater influence in the land of el}l)almning. The miingling of animial and human features in statuary was an error in moral as wvell as esthetic judgment. Agassiz has well suggested, that to add the wii,ngs of a bird to an ethereal image of man detracts firoom, instead of adding to, our conception of angelic exaltation. The et(pJ)hors, "he had a lion's courage, an ox's strength, and an eagle's ken," embodied in the cherubim pictured by Ezekiel, as laphael conceived, could not be represented to the eye. The scul)tOrs of Exgypt did not discliminate between nietaphlor and figure, between associated symbols and actual coniiibinationI of inconsistent elements. The Egyptian Sphynx, with a human head thirty feet in altitude, and a lion's body couchant one 15' ARIT CRITICISMf. hundred and sixty-three feet long, the Assyrian winged bull with human head, the crocodile and hawked-lheaded deities, and kindred monstrosities, rise to the llmind of Itorace in the very o)pening of his Ars Poetica as a violation of moral propriety. SECT. 4. THIE HISTORY OF EGYPTIAN SCULPTURE; ITS RUDE NA TIVE ORIGINALS; ITS ENNOBI,EAIENT BY SUPERIOR ARTISTS FROM ASIA; ITS REFINEMENT FROMI GRECIAN INFLUENCE; AND ITS DECLINE UNDER THE ROMAN SWAY. Tile observing tourist on the Nile, or student of the best writers on Egyptian art, can readily trace the prominent marks of successive stages of developimeIIt in E,gyptian sculpture. Tile age of primitive art in Eo,ypt is very early in Inani's history; Sir Gardner Wilkinson fixing the founding of Ieiiipihis at B. C. 2320, the buildilng of the Pyramlid of Cheops at B. C. 2123, and the visit of AbrallIam to Egypt at B. C. 1921. The ieileorials of these four centuries of rude native art are the pyraIllids and toIIbs back of 3Ieiiphis. No hieroglyphics were cut on granite; but the monarch's namie was painted in red ochre. The sculptures on tomb walls were rude and simple, the figures in low relief, cut in outline rather than in rounded contour. It is a transition to a new world to meet the life-like sceney sculptured on the temples and tomnbs at Thebes, whose era begins with Osirtasen I., in Josephl's day, about B. C. 1740. During this period, foreign kings and priests of a caste like the Bralbmins in India, ruled in Egypt; and Ranleses the conqueror brought in foreign artists. Though restrained in choice of subjects and methods by native taste, these superior masters threw a dignity and variety into their designs and execution as miarked as the transition in Greece firoom Ddalus to Phidias. The Greeks under the Ptoleniies, at OnIbos and the Isle of Philm in Upper Egypt, reared temples truly Egyptian in architecture, yet Grecian in sculptural finish. Yet later, the temples at Esneh and D)endera, Iiost imagnificent remains of Egyptian architecture, were reared by the Caears; the excessive profusion of their sculptured decorations bespeaking their RolIan spirit. The art of ]gypt died out under succeeding Iolialllmedan rulers. 174 SCULPTURE OF EASTERN AND WESTERN ASIA. 175 SECT. 5. TIHE SCULPTURE OF EASTERN ASIA; TII DESCENDIN( SCALE OF PRIMIITIVE SCULPTIURE; INCL,UDING qrIAT OF INDIA, CHINA, POLYNESIA AND CENTRAL AND SOUTIIERN AMERICA. The ancient massive sculpture of Egypt and India and the niodern art in China belong to the same fanuily; as truly as do the jugglers of Cairo, Calcutta and Canton. The chief existing remains in India are two rock-hewn temples at Elel)haita and Ellora in the vicinity of Bombay. At Elephlanta are colossal statues and basreliefs on walls and coliumns; chief among which is the celebrated thrlee-headed deity Brahma. At Ellora are rock-hlewn tombs extending a mile and a half along a rocky hill-side; obelisks sixty feet highl; colossal elephants and gigantic statues; walls covered with bas-reliefs representiing every variety of scene, domestic, re. lig,ious and military; all belonging to the Egyptian type. The Chinese like the Egyl)tians chose the hardest stone for scull)tm'e. Their l)orcelain is of the same style of workmanship as the Egyptian vitrified baked clay. Their work in miniature resembles that found in the Egyptian tombs. Passing eastward, Iltumnboldt traced a tide of emigration from the shores of Asia past the Pacific isles to the coast of America, finlding buildings and sculpture like to those of Egypt among the Aztecs and 3Mexicans. The carvings on the walls of the palace of Mitla, lihe says, "offer striking analogies with those of the vases of lower Italy." The pen of Stevens and the pencil of Catherwood have ma(-le yet imore striking this likeness to both Egyptian and Chinese types. The whole chain of Sl)c.incs, half round the globe westward, is the degenerate phase of Egyptian sculpture. SECT. 6. TIlE SCULPTURE OF WESTERN ASIA, TIIE ASCENDING SCALE OF PRIMITIVE SCULPTURE; INCLUDING THE ARABIAN, HIEBREW, ASSYRIAN AND PERSIAN. The desert of Sinai is stored with sculptured relics which form the first steps in the ascending scale of Egyptian art. In retired valleys are facades of tombs, with colunns and entablatures cut in high-relief, Egyptian in origin. Surabeet el-Klhadim, soiitheast of Suez, is a l)erfect store-house of historical tablets erected by Egyl)tian imoiiarchs. I'Passing the desert of Sinai, at Petra, an advanced style of art is ART CRITICISM. found in the rich rock-hewn temple fironts. These sculptures, whose beauties enrapture every tourist, are the first link in a chain that goes wind(ling on through Palestine and Syria, till, circling about, it meets the artistic advancenient of the Greek colonies on the west coast of Asia MIinor. Hebrew sculpture originated during the second and most ad vanced era of native Egyptian art; and the Hebrew artists, like the Hebrew lawgiver, were "learned in the wisdom of Egypt." The cherubs and candelabra of beaten gold, the form of which latter is preserved on the arch of Titus at Rome and described by Josephus the historian, were types of superior formns attempted in advanced ages of sculpture. Six hundred years after Moses, under Soloiuon, we read that the chief artist employed in decorating the HIebrew temiple was a Tyrian; whose teachers were brought from Egypt. To the sculptured vessels prepared under Moses, Solonion added two colossal cherubs. The ceiling of the inner sanctuary was carved with palmi-trees, cherubs and opcn flowers. Two pillars in front had capitals wrought with wreaths of lilies and pomegranates. The brazen lavers had reliefs of bulls, lions and eagles; and the great font stood on twelve brazen oxen. In Assyria and Clhaldea engraving on rocks was practised in the patriarchal age of Job. Daniel's mention at a later period of the golden statue of the king is illustrated in the gilded colossi now exhumed. The wing,ed bulls uncovered by Layard are kindred to Egyptian designs. Mosaic pavements with figures in intaglio, represent state pageants and battle-scenes, in which there is the Egy ptian stiffness of attitude and want of perspective. There is, however, a plumpness of the muscles, a life in the countenances and an action in the postures entirely unlike that seen in Egyptian sculptures. Layard remarks, "The principal distinction between Assyrian and Egyptian art appears to be, that in the one, conventional forms were much more strictly adhered to than in the other. .... The Assyrians, less fettered, sought to imitate nature more closely; as is proved by the constant endeavors to show the muscles, veins and anatomical proportions of the huiman figure." In Persia ancient and modern sculpture are distinct. TIle modern Persians, of the ancient Caucasian stock, are tlhe Protestants of Mohammnedism; and as such retain the higher idea, belonging to their lineage both of religious truth and of the relation 176 CHARACTERISTICS OF GRECIAN SCULPTUPE. 177 of art to religion. The sculptures of ancient Perisepolis have the muscular develo,pment of the Assyvian, witl gracter de(licacy, ease and gace of finish. Tie inen ace stout and bearded; and their close-fittii,g iiilitaiy coats with capes, in(licaLting a cold climlate, sho\v glreater skill in the artist. Colipar,ing the Persiaill with Assyrian sculpture, La,yaid says, "They exhibit precisely the same io,le of treatment, the samie forms, the sanie peculiarities in the arran gemencit of the bas-reliefs agrainst the walls, the saime entrances iorined by gigantic winged animals with human heads, and finally, the same religious emblems. There was no attempt even in later Persian sculpture, found in Asia Minor, to imipart sentiment to the features or even to give more than the side view to the face; though there was a manifest improvement in the disposition of draperies and in the delineation of the human features." Of these general relations L'tyaid says; "The Xanthian marbles acquired for this country by Sir (lCharles Fellows, and now in the Briiti.-h 3luseuni, are remnarkable illustrations of the threefold connection between Assyr-ia and Persia, P'ersia and Asia Minor, and Asia Minor and Greece. Were those marbles properly arianged, and placed in chronological order, they would enable even the iliost superficial observer to trace the gradual progress of art firom its primitive rudeness to the most classic conceptions of the Greek sculptor. Not that he would find either style, the pure Assyrian or the Greek, in its greatest perfection; but he would be able to see how a closer imitation of nature, a gradual refinement of taste and additional study had converted the hard and rigid lines of the Assyrians into the flowing draperies and classic forms of the highest order of art." ('HAPTER III. CLASSIC SCULITURE EMBODIED IN THE GRECIAN. TIIE language of art given by the Greeks to the world, specially rich in terlms for sculpture, indicates thlleir special pre-eininen(e in this department. Homer's descriptions of the shield of Achilles, II * ART CRITICISM. of the bowl of Helen, and of the belt of Hiercules, intimate its early orii n. AWinclkelimann, thle special student of Grecian sculpture, has divided its history into four ages; the rude style prevailing till Plhidias; the grand style inaugurated by Plidias; the graceful style of the polished successors of Phidias; and, finally, the imitative style of the Grecian decline. The attentive student of anciect Greek and Latin authorities, especially of Pliny, and of modern critics like WinAekelmnann, aided by a careful comlparisoni of relics of Grecian sculpture preserved chiefly in the galleries of Italy, will naturally extend this classification. SECT. 1. GLENERAL CITARACTERISTICS OF GRECIAN SCULPTURE. The characteristics of a people's art are influenced by climate, face of country and native cast of mind. The Egyptians dwelling on a level river bottom, wherle massiveness and elevation were necessary to miake their works conspicuous, built and carved every work in colossal proportions; and living in a climate where there was no rain, they covered the exterior of their edifices with mninute and delicate sculptures which the stormis of a Grecian winter would have soon obliterated.. The Greeks, in a land of hills and plains, could make a temple of low proportions prominent; and could gain a rarer beauty by clhastening and shleltering thleir nicer works. The Egyptians, like all Orientals, counted repose and impassive stolidity the hi(ghest attiibute of Deity; and nature gave themi along thleir river banks the inexpressive granite and sandstone in which to stereotypI)e their stiff deities. The Greeks were all life and aniimation; and nature furnished themi the almost breatlhing marble, whose fine texture and pure white surfiaee sceneed mnade to be polished into forms of beauty. It was the meeting of these exteirnal and internal causes that made the art of these two peoples sueli counterparts to each other. Pliny relates that the Greeks had, first, sculptured vases, candelabras, decorated columns and furniture. After these came iiiatqii, es, or iniages; bIy the Gieeks entitled cicoics, or likenesses, and by the l{omans st(oti(r, or " standing" fornls. Religious devotiol'c(i Greek sculptors first to form deities; but as these were only il,roes of earth, the transition was easy to superior men. At firit only e?)tbleieis distinguished one deity fiom 178 I'H'E BOLD STYLE OF DX,DALUS. anotheI; Jupiter being known by his forked thunderbolt; Neptune by his trident or fish spear: and Apollo 1)y his aielier's bow. In thle advance of the art, posture, dress, sex and esthetic ideas were studied. The natural posture of a single foirm was standing; but in groups filling gables, reclining became artistic. Equestrian statues began with Centaurs; and in bas-reliefs and full form, chariots with riders were cut in stone, or cast in brass. To bring out the strength and beauty of the human formn nude mnodels were so sought as to occasion Pliny's remark, "The Grecian methlod is to veil nothing." Phlidias, however, draped his Minerva; and Cicero remarked, "The fondness of the Romalis for martial glory is observed in the fact that we generally see their statues decked in military array." Fromi the nude female form, first, Venus, then the Graces were studied; the Greeks selecting youth for special beauty of form, both in Venus and Apollo. Proceeding farther, the Greeks conceived the Amazon, or mnasculine woman, uniting to the robustness of the male the grace of the female form in Minerva and D)iana; adding as a counterpart the lHelmaphlrodite, or Mlercury-Veniis, carving the manly form in lines of feminine delicacy. The centries of sculptural art were in Greece proper, Sicyon and Athens; in the Eastern Isles, Egina and Rhodes; and in the WAestern colonies, Sicily and Etruria. The numnber of works executed and preserved, as stated by Pliny, is astounding. Lyeij)pus alone made 1500 works. At Rhodes there were no less than 3000 statues, and as mlany at Athens, Olympus and Delphi. SECT. 2. THlE BOLD STYLE OF GRlECIAN SCULPTUIEE; BEGINNING WITH DI,DALUS. Three hundred years after Cecrops founded Athens, DIodalus, contemipoiait with Theseus, about B. C. 1230, began the age of p)rimitive Grecian sculIlture, properly called the Bold Style; whrich extended to about B. C. 580, a period of 650 years. Universally recognized as leader in Grecian sculpture and architecture in Homier's day, the name daid(ilia was a synonym for fine earvail gs. In the age of Auilustus no less than nine famed monullnients of his genius in sculpture were still admiired, even by the side of the works of Phlidias. Of these the naked Hercules, lost at Ronie but preserved in numerous bronze copies, is still a miaster 179 ART CRITICISM. piece. The figure is nuide, and in an) attitude of bold advance; the right arm wields a club, and the left is wrapped in a lion's skin, while the wrinkled countenance, the swolleni chest and contracted loins, the strained sinews and bulging muscles, all indicate a rare study of nature in an age of bold conception and of rude execution. Daedalus had two classes of followers. One became mere copiers of the themes and manner of their master; while another catching his idea went beyond their leader, attempting the female as well as the male figure. To the former belonged Epeus, the fabricator of the famed colossal wooden horse, regarded as a deity by the Trojans, and therefore manifestly one of a class known to the Greeks and Trojans. To the latter must be referred the higher yet rude characteristics illustrated by Winckelmnanii; the brow of Jupiter and the curl of his shaggy locks being precisely that of the lion, and the neck of Hercules just that of the bull. To this class also belonged Smnilis, who carved a Juno of wood, adiiiired in after times by the sweet poet Callimachus; and Endaeus who inmade a Minerva, which Pausanias saw at Athens. The female as well as miale deities had a bold, advancing attitude, and full muscular developnment; the female figures, however, being diaped in robes hanging in a few straight yet graceful folds. The line of Daedalus closes with DI)ipcenus and Scyllis, who flourished about B. C. 580; whom Piiny mentions as "the first sculptors in marble." SECT. 3. THIE ATHLETIC STYLE, MIATURED BY AGELADAS; STATUES OF VICTORS IN FEATS OF STRENGTII; ILLUSTRATED BY THE BOXER AND QUOIT-THROWER. As Homer, advancing on HIlesiod, pictured heroes in war like Hector and Achilles, so the first sculptors who dared to leave the gods and picture men, chose as ideals men like Hercules, of physical prowess. The Olynmpic games, originated after the heroic age, B. C. 776, led to the athletic style in sculpture. Occurring once in four years and designed to promote skill in feats of strength, beginning with only racing, to which every variety of gymnastics was afterward added, at the seventh Olyinpiad, B. C. 748, crowns were awarded the victers, and at a later era statues. At the sixty-fiftl celebration the athletic style in sculpl)ture had reacheld its climiax of 180 TIIE WOPKS OF PHIDIAS. perfection under Ageladas, the instructor of Phidias. At the sixtysixth, Phidias hinisclf made the statue of a victor in a clhariot race; and Alcaiuenes, his pupil and rival, and other scutlptors of rarest talent were proud to excel in statues of althiletes. The aim of the athletic style was to bring out the perfect anatonliy of the human formi, when each joint and muscle was straiied to the utmost tension in evely variety of guymnastic exercise. The figures were ideal, not likenesses of the victors; they were perfectly nudle, showing every portion of the frame; the beard was either entirely removed, or cropped short; and every variety of position and expression was studied and copied. The Gladiator, called the Borghese Hero, the work of Agasias of Ephesus, who lived a century later than Ageladas, also the Boxer, the Quoit-thrower, and many kindred works, are masterpieces of this style. SECT. 4. THE GRAND STYL,E ENNOBLED BY PIIIDIAS; MAJESTIC IDEAL,S OF HERO-WORSHIP IN THE AGE OF GREEK CULI,TURIE; ILLUSTRATED IN TIIE MINERVA AND JOVE OF PITIDIAS. Phlidias, the great master of this and of all the Grecian ages in sculpture, was born B. C. 500. About B. C. 550 Sicyon, had iiitroduced into her common schools practice in modeling; and Athens soon added the study of plastic art. The instructor of Phidias was Ageladas; Pericles was rebuilding Athens and Socrates teaching philosophy during his mature manhood. Thus a century of art training conspired to develop the master of the grand style in sculpture. Though truly original, Phidias owed much to his teacher and his contemporaries, as well as to the people, whose criticisms he invited. Cicero says: "Phidias, when he would make a form of Jupiter, or )Iinerva, did not contemplate anything firom which he should draw the likeness; but in his own mind there was a certain species of select beauty; gazing on which, and fixed upon it, lihe directed his art and hand to execute its likeness." In Phidias, as in all truly great artists, nmagnanimity became a moulding power. He loved his art so much that he did all in his power to make others artists; thus increasing his own skill. All his pupils breathed into their works the lofty intellectual air caught firom their master. The greatest of his single works was his Olympian Tove of 16 181 ART CRITICISFM. ivory- and gold, made for the temple of FElis. The iniage was forty six feet high, seated upon a tlhrolec, beailrd(d, crowned with olive, nude to the cincture, but robed below. In his right lhand was a statue c,f AVictory, and in his left a sceptre. The awei.ng mnajesty of this figure overpowered men of the noblest and sternest niind. The comprehensive work of Plidias was the adorning of the PIrthenon. The colossal 3Iinerva peering throughl the roof was thirtyfive feet high; the face, neck and breast being of ivoiy, the robe of gold, and the eyes of precious stones. Another of bl'onzc stood in fiont of the Parthenon; whose spear point and helimet crest were visible to mariners as they doubled the promontory of Suniumn. In the tymnpanum of the principal front stood Jove receiving ilIinerva and the intellectual deities, who came to accept Athenlls, which Neptune and the rude gods of the sea were suirendering. Thle high reliefs in the nmetopes, and the low reliefs under tl-he portico, many of them now in the London Mluseum, are among tlhe richlest treasures of ancient sculpture. In the sculpture of the Parthenon, deities are full statues and colossal; while human figures are of life, or lhalf size, and in reclief. The life and grace of the human figure and also of the horses, lions, oxen and even the serpents, are as perfect as mnan's woik can well be. SECT. 5. TlE GRACEFUL STYLF,; PERFECTED BY PRAXITET,FE,s; IDEALS OF PIIYSICAL BEAUTY ILLUSTRATED IN TITE VENUS DE MIEDICI, OF INTELLECTUAL GRACE IN THE APOLLO BELVII)]E:E, AND OF COMPOSITE SYIMMETRY IN THE AMIAZON AND IERM APHRODITE. Mianly grandeur was perfected by Phidias; and the pupils of Phidias, who shared his genius, sought original excellence in a more delicate grace of outline and a more elaborate finishl of detail, belonging to female loveliness. MIyron, a predecessor of Phidias, had cultivated the graceful style. Quinctilian characterizes his works as " iiiore delicately wrought than those of Cdlaniis;" and Cicero says, "Although tlhe works of 3IwNon had not yet sufficienitly attained to truth, yet tlhey were such as. you could not hesitate to call heautiful. " Praxiteles, chief miaster in this style, Plitiy states, " was specially happy in marble;" this material allowing delicacy of finish. His 182 TITE VENUS AND APOT,LO. works were deities of ethercll physical mouldi, "Phryne," the Athenian bea-tty, and the goddess of sensual love, Venlus. The only work of lhis that now exists. probably), is to be found in tlei. bas-reliefs upon the fiieze of the Parthenon. The fiamed Venuses of Praxiteles exist only in the copy by SeCol)pas, the famied Yenus de Mledici. Praxiteles made twvo Venuses, one draped, the other nude. The Cnidians bought the latter, reared a little open temple for it, and it becanme, as Illiny says, "esteemed before all works in the world;" many niiaking voyages to Cnidus expressly to see it. Scopas, who lived somiewhat later, and whose "fame vied with that of Praxiteles," made a kindred work, which is still preserved probably in the Yenus de Mledici. In this work Yenus is represented as coningii fiom tlhe bathtl; and as if startled by the approach of some one, she is turning her hed(l slighitly to one side, her ey e is east ul)pward, as if to avoid meeting the gaze of the intruder, while hel right hand is thrown forward to veil her breast, and her left to screen her iddtlle. Tlhe aitist's ideal is a giiM just maturedl, of sanguine temperament, perfetly alive with the quick sensibility belon'ing to feiiiinme delicacy; while every gesture is radiant with the grace of position and movement that attends chaste impulses. Ovid extols the grace into which shriniking miodesty has thrown her posture; and also the fasciniiating roll and the p)inkish lustre of the ey-e of love in Venus, so in contrast with the yellow tinge of unimplassioned intellect in Minitierva. 1'Terence coil mceiids her full and gracefully tapered chest; condemining the mothers who, in his dziy, souIght to enhance their daulghters' beaiuty by " droop)ed slhoulders and a laced waist;" as if they could tlhus improve on " Natuie's good work." Winckelnman observes that the formi of Venus is iuncommnonly slender, her head unusually small, and her foot long; her heighlt being seven and a-half heads, and less than six measures of her foot. In this age vouth was selected as the model for beauty; not only Venus but Apollo )being conceived as extremely youtlthfil. The A)ollo called Telvidere is an embodiment of intellectual dignity as is Venus of plhysi(:al grace. It is seven feet in statuIre; nude, except the palliumi, or sniall cloak, over the left shoulder and the quiver over the right. A bow is in his right hand; and his feet and arms 183 AIST CRITICISM. extended, his head thrown slightly back, and his eye distended, all indicate that he has just shot his arrow. The brow, whlose facial angle approaches a right angle, is expressive of the hlligct order of intellect. In the proportions of the Apollo as of the Venus, Winekelmann finds confirniation of the filct that the Grecian laws of symmetry were a principle rather than an arbitrary law. The Amiazon, perfected by Polyclitus, was an added step in the advance of this style. Of this, Pliny remarks, " The iiiost lauded of Grecian sculptors came into comparisonII, although born in different ages, when they made Amazons." He adds that one of those made by Polyclitus won the prize over a work of Phidias; and that it was a statue which artists call a cai'ioi or fixed standard of the liaeaments of art; in which he alone of men is judged to have embodied art itself in a work of art. The final effort of the graceful style was the Hermaphrodite. The master-work of this kind, now preserved in the Villa 3Borghese at Rome, and often copied, is that of Polycles. The figure is reclining with the face downward, thus best presenting its raie delicacy of form. The hands Winckelmaiin characterizes as the most "beautiful of female hands." Praxiteles and his school after him introduced the coloring or tinting of their statues; revived by the English sculptor, Gibson. Its legitimacy is questionable; since sculpture proper presents form alone, not color. SECT. 6. THE HISTORICAL STYLE, DIGNIFIED BY LYSIPPUS; SCUL,P TURED LIKENESSES OF LIVING MIEN WVITII IDEAL ACCFSSORItES; ILLUSTRATED IN BUSTS AND THE STATUES OF ALEXANDER. The Hercules of Doedalus, the athlete, the creations of PIidias and Praxiteles were all ideal. It was a distinct and higher effort to cut exact likenesses of living men in nmarble, making this likeness, often ill-fitted for the attempt, to beam- with an expression most characteristic and even transcending the original. Pliny ascribes its origin to the daughter of Dibutiades, a sculptor of Phidias' day, who traced her lover's profile from his shadow on a wall, and got her father to round it out in clay. Tlhe historic age proper commienced with Alexander the Great; firom whose day correct likenesses of eniment Grceks and Romnans were presented. Alexander employed Iysippus the scullptor, 184 STATUES OF ALEXANDER AND THE LAOC()ON. 18 Apelles the painter, and Pyrgoteles the engraver, to copy his fea tures, Lysippus executing in marble a series of likenesses of Alexander firom boyhood to manhood. Since in man and woman the head is the work of the artist, busts in sculpture. and portraits in painiting, camne to be chosen works. ilyron and Chares in marble, and Apelles in color, becaime eminient for executing heads only. In Greek a head was called protome, and a bust thorax; in Latin a lhea.d caput, a bust bTust?un, and a portrait rultlts. The heads of the Itoman emperors were cut in white marble; the breast of colored marble being somietimies united to it as a support. SECT. 7. TIlE IMPIASSIONED STYLE; INTRODUCED BY SCOPAS, AND CULMINATING IN AGESANDER; STATUES EMBODYING IDEAS OF PHYSICAL AGONY AND OF IIENTAL ANGUISH: ILLIUSTRATED IN TIE LAOCO0N AN-D TIlE NIOBE. As the different styles of Grecian sculpture overlap and interlace one another in point of timne, so they often meet in the same artist. In fact, each class of excellences must be combined to a certain extent in every great master; while, nevertheless, every leading spirit in any sphere will excel in some one line. The bold style of Ddclalus sought to express energy and daring; the athletic style added the physical power of gymnastic training; the grand style of Phidias presented a quiet intellectual dignity; the gracefill style of Praxiteles threw a chalmn of quiet, uniml)assioned loveliness over the whole figure, especially of woman; a1(1 the historic style gave expression to the characteristic, or ordinarily moving impulse of individual men. It was a yet added delpartment of art when passion, too overwhelming to be anything mlore than temporary in the sufferer, too unnerving to be endured long even by the beholder, and yet as the tragedy of art having a strange power of fascination over the minds of men, came to be cut in all its truth and life into enduring marble; giving first to physical torture its scowl of agony, and then to mental anguishl its speechless voice of woe. The art maxim of IT,ysippuIs, "That Nature herself was to be imitated, not the artist," was the idea leading to the study of the expression of the intensest passions betrayed in the human countenance. Quinctilian characterized Ly 16. ART CRITICISM. sip)pus' statues as having "natural expression," and Propertius as " animosas" or iplassi(oned. Of this style the most expressive specimen is the Laocobn and his sons, now preserved in Roine. It represents the priest of Apollo, and his two sons, struggling with the two immense serpents fiom the sea, pictured by Virgil after this group in marble. Pliny ascribes it to Agesander of Rhodes, with his son Atlienodorus and his pupil Polydorus, who lived after Alexander. He characterizes it as a "work to be preferred to all others, both in painting and sculpture;" and a " wonder of the agreement in conception of different minds." Though in detail a work of rarest beauty, the strained muscles and the contorted features of the sufferers make it, in its main design, an embodiment of the conception of physical agony. Next to the Laoco6n as a masterpiece in the impassioned style, is the "Niobe," and her dying children; the mournfully pleasing themie of poets as the embodiment of mental ang,uisl. It is the fiuitful Lydian mother, whose children were struck with death for her irreverent pride at their number and promise, suddenly turned to stone, as if petrified in her tearless grief. P'liny says there is doubt "whether Praxiteles or Scopas made it." No sensitive observer can view this statue without carrying throughout life the idea of grief too deep for tears. The Toro Farnese and the Dying Gladiator are admired simply for their anatomy by ancient and modern critics. They have been monuments for many an age of the powers of tragedy in sculpture. SECT. 8. THE COLOSSAL STYLE; CULM INATING UNDER CItARES; TIll EFFORT TO MIAKE GIGANTIC MASSIVENESS TRULY ARTISTIC; IL LUSTRATED IN THE COLOSSUS OF RHODES. Colossal proportions in a statue designed for an elevated position. when skillfully executed, have firom the days of Phlidias been specia. triumphs of sculpture. All Phlidias' grand works were colossal. Lysippus, too, made colossal statues so large that the Romans declined to remove them. Of one of these Pliny relates, " Though it could be moved by the hand, such was the 1)la of its balance, it could be thrown down by no tempests." There stand now over he portico of St. ANIark's in Venice four horses of niost exquisite form, admired alike by artists and amateurs. They were executed 186 1 17, IROIAN SCULPTURE OF GRECIAN ORIGIN. 187 by Lysippus for a chariot of the sun, in his native Isle of Rhodes. Afterward they l)ecale thle -lolry of the Isle of Chlios, thence they were borne by Cnstantine to his new capital; thelce,ain by the Venetians to their Illand City; tlence yet agaiin Iy Napoleon to Paris. leturned finally to Venice, they are now called "the traveled lhorses. " The famed Colossus of Rhodes, described )y Pliny and criticised by Cicero, was designed by Chares, the pupil of Lysipp)us, to adoriii the principal port of his native island. The statue was ahout one hundred and five feet high, and stood astride the entrance to the beautiful harbor. The statue was thrown down by an earthquake only fifty-six years after its erection. Pliny, who saw it inl ruins, says, "The fingers alone were larger than ordinary statues." Even the Ioinan Pliny calls the colossi, favorites after this era, works of "audacity." The climax in this degeneracy was reached by Dinocrates; who proposed to cut It. Athos, on the coast of Ilacedonia, into a head and bust of Alexander. SECT. 9. RoM,AN SCULPTURE; LINKED WITII TIlE GRECIAN, IN TIlE EARLY PERFECTED ETRUSCAN, IN TIIE COLLECTIONS CAPTUIIED IN GREECE, AND IN THE GRECIAN TASTE CHARACTERIZING RO MIAN SCULPTORS. Grecian genius, which had revealed itself first in the Asiatic provinces in the days of HIomer and Thales, appeared, almost equally early, west of Greece also. The Pelasgi, driven l,y the IIellenes around the head of the Adriatic, seem to have brought art into Northern Italy. The fiamed Etruscan vases, ainong the mlost exquisite and best preserved gems of ancient art, were the fiuit of their skill in sculpture. Among the Romans themselves the ascetic principles of Numna, early fixed, checkled the rising tendency toward Grecian ideas. Less, however, than two centuries after their execution, about B. C. 148, the victorious Romnans bore off fioom Greece her mnost prized works in sculpture. IHow little they were prepared to appreciate Grecian art is illustrated in Iuiinniuis, who threatened the laborers packing the paintings and sculpture taiken from Corinth, that if any were injured or lost they would have to rn(iee otlels. Even Pliny himself exclaims, "What use (an be perceived as derived from them?" ART CRITICISM. The taste for art cultured by these collections at Psomne is the alluded to by Horace: "Grecia capta fertum victorern cepit, et artes Intulit agresti Latio." Captured Greece indeed found its victor uncultured; yet she brought the arts into rustic Italy. Suetonius records the boast of Augustus, "Urbem marmioream se relinquere, quam lateritiai aecepisset." The age that had developed a Cicero, a Virgil al(] a Horace, naturally produced an emperor proud to claimi that he left a marble city where he had found a birick one. The sculptors of the climactic Roman era were, however, Greeks in namie, and probably in race. Of themi Pliny only mentions three, and they degenerate. CHAPTER IV. IODERN SCULPTURE; PLASTIC ART AS AFFECTED BY CIhRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. TIl: 11lastic arts, declining from the days of Phidias, and for centuries lost, at length arose perfected again in Italy. A chain of causes led first to the deepening gloom and then again to the dawn; for the laws of testhetic development operate as stca(lily as growth in the forest. To trace this progress in the history of Christian Europe is difficult; yet many links in the chain shine out in the mist of the ages. SECT. 1. THE TRANSITION PERIOD FROM ANCIENT TO MODI)EPN SCULPTURE; ILLUSTRATED SPECIALLY IN THE CIIANGE OF SUB JECTS FOR ART INTRODUCED BY CHRISTIANITY. It was a great transition in tlhe Grecian iandl REoman mind when the peerless statues of gods and goddesses fi'om being objects of religious veneration came to be relics of an idolatrous worship which was held as blasphemous. 188 EARLY CHRISTIAN SCULPTURE. In the rise and decline of Grecian sculpture the strength and culture of thle religious sentiment was the chief fostering and refiling cause. In the transition leading to mnodern sculpture, no less powerful influences could have wrought the change. The spirit in man that leads to science, the tracing of effects to causes, carries the mind at once to theology or the consideration of the first cause; and material advancement reveals the greate.r need of moral renovation. The intellectual search for truth as to the Divine Being, first in all the questioning of Socrates and the reasonings of Plato and Aristotle, is no less the leading theme of philosophic inquiry in every cultured nation and amonog all studious men. The student of art who overlooks this fundaimeintal element in human nature, no less than the artist who should igIiol'ce it, must ftil of his end; -,,s truly as would the mnaster-buil(ler who should deny the law of gravity, and take no account of the crush and thrust of his material. The decline of hero-worship wroughlt a revolution as to the subjects of plastic art, especially of sculpture; for, as WAinckelhnann has intimated, sculpture is the art in which the peculiar spirit distinguishing the ancients fiom the moderns is most mini-ifest. The tracing of this chiange bridges over the chasmI that separates the two worlds and ages, that before, and that after Christ. SECT. 2. THE CHASTE, THOUGH RUDE STYLE OF SCIJLI,PTURE, PREVA LENT IN THE EARLY AGES OF CHRISTIANITY. The decline in art following the revolution occasioned by the introduction of the Christian religion, was naturally long in operating. The development of man is as that of the plant, first the blade, then the stalk, then the car and then the full corn in the ear. In the earliest stage of Christian development the very simplicity of its system won the rarest of Grecian genius; though it had no pomip to court the wise and noble "after the flesh." In tracing the history of sculpture in Christian ages two things must be kept distinct, the patronage of art in itself co).si(ered by early Christians, and their opposition to the ancient 7ise of words of ar,t as objects of religious adoration. Ircnoeus, about A. D). 175, states that the Carpocratians had both statues and pictures of Jesus. Eusebius, about A. D). 325, mentions that not only were images and pictures of Christ of great 189 I ART CRITICISM. beauty and najesty numerous among Christians, but that lovers of art aniong the unchristianized Greeks and Roiimans had obtained statues of Jesus and his apostles, and that they kept them in their houses as art treasures. In the same age Christian devices and emblemns were comnmon; such as a ship, or Noah's ark, for salvation; a dove for the Divine Spirit; a harp for worship; the cross, anchor and hceart for flith, hop)e and love. These were carved as ornaments for the pers'on or as funereal monuments; and Tertullian mentions cnibos.ed figures, as of the lost sheep, stitched by pious mothers on the ca)ps of their boys. Chief among these was the cross; which to this day retains its superior place as an emblenm of the Clhistia.n faith. In the early Christian ages the images of Jesus in the chnrches were unobjectionable. When, after Constantine's accession, to be a Christian was to be of the national religion, and the ig,norant miistaking their nature paid religious honmage to these works of art, the council held at Illiberis, on the borders of France and Sp)ain, decreed "that pictures ought not to be introduced into the churches, lest that be worshiped and adored which is painted on the walls." A generation later, when this temiporary abuse had been corrected, Augustine commended the sculptor's ideals of Christ. SECT. 3. THE ARTIFICIAL STYLE AND ILLEGITIMIATE USE OF SCULPTURE CHARACTERIZING TIIE MEDI1EVAL AGES OF TIIE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. A darker era for art, as well as science and general culture, drew on, when, two or three centuries after Constantine, the RomLaiii Empire and with it the Christian Church, became divided; and when Gothic rudeness in the WAest, and Oriental gorgeousness in the East prevailed. It had come to be popular to be a Christian; and designing men pressed into the Church to gain positions of influence and emolumnent, and out-voted or out-mnanaged the lovers of the truth, beauty and glory of the Christian system. Then men without principle or genius got control of church decorations. The effect was to degrade art; the relics of which still linger in Italy, Spain and even France. A second and most unfavorable result was the corruption of 190 REV IVAL OF SCULPTURE IN ITALY. religion itself. Our love of beauty and grandeur was given as its highest end to lead us to the Author of all. Whlien art is accomai,anied by spiritual instruction it is an aid to true devotion; but when it is made the only teacher it degenerates into idolatiy. When this distinction became neglected, statuary and paintings were perverted; and intelligent and spiritually-ninded churchmen preferred that art should be sacrificed, since religion could not be, Qy true men. Yet good men sought to save both art and spiritual Christianity. The Eastern Church rejected carved inmages, yet retained painltings of sacred personages. This distinction led ill the Eastern Church to a double influence unfavorable for art, excluding scull)ture firom the land where classic art had reached its perfection, and degrading painting into the lifeless, meaningless objects that now hang upon the walls of Oriental churches. SECT. 4. THE MAJESTIC GRANDEUR TO WHICH SCULPTURE AROSE AT THE REVIVAL OF SCIENCE, OF LETTERS, OF ART, AND OF RELIGION IN THE FIFTEENTH CENTURY. It was not strange that the age of Wickliffe and Thomas'k Kempis, of Luther and Loyola, of Dante and Chaucer, of Coperliicus and Columbus, should fall so near tlat of Lionairdo da Vinci and of MIichel Angelo. Religion, science, letters and art, all flourish together, in the sanie country and at the same age, not only because they are fed firom the samie soil, but because like forest trees they stimulate each other's growth. As, however, in Greece it required two centuries and a half to perfect art, so modern sculpture, revived in the beginning of the thirteenth century, did not reach its climax till the close of the sixteenth century. In the Baptistery of the Catlhedral of Pisa stands a large octagonal font, executed in marble, with fine bas-reliefs representing Scripture incidents, wrought by Nicolo Pisano, ab)out A. 1). 1250, after natural models; sacred personages assuming the beauty and life belonging to real men. The churches of the whole surrounding region now contain relics of the improved sculpture thus introduced. Whlen a youth 3I. Angelo used to stand and gaze upon the bronze doors of the Baptistery of the Cathedral at Florence., and exclaim 191 ART CRITICISM. that they were "degne d'essere le porte di Paradiso," worthy to lie the gates of Paradise. Two of these were by Ghiberti, vwho lived one hundred and fifty years afterl Pisano. About a centuly and a half later M. Angelo carved his Mloses. whose goat-shaped and hlorned head has been both compared a.ld contrasted with thle lion-browed Jove of PhIiidias. As Plidi.s in his Jove, his Alinerva, and his Parthenon, embodied thrce eleiments of Grecian.majesty, so did MI. Angelo in his mlasterpl)ieces in the three departments of sculpture, paintilig an(l a'clitecturc. Spiitual RPeligion is speakitig,, in his Mo.es throu(gh Ilebiew allegory, in his Last Judgnient through heatlen le,gend, and inl his St. Peter's throughl climactic Grecian and loiiiaii art. SECT. 5. THE EMBODIMENT OF CIIRISTIAN SENTIMENT IN FORITMS OF CLASSIC GRACE, CHARACTERIZING MIODERN SCUL,PTUIRE IN SOUTHERN EUROPE. Like Phidias, -Michel Angelo was the grand representative, not Only of perfected sculpture, but of revived art. Long before his timie Tuscan genius had caught the spirit of the ancient Grecks, and had made it conspire to express the sentiment and advance the culture inherent in the Christian ftith. A century before ~i. Angelo, the first school of design, iod(leled after those of ancient Greece, was transformiing Tuscany; two aiii.in causcs giving it a Grecian cast. In 1453 Constantinople was taken by the Turks. The fbiw possessing the art spirit of ancient days sought the old coloiial heritage of Etruria. The mingling of these fugitive Greeks amlong native artists gave a decided tendency to the classic taste already awakened. Not long after, the relics of the statues of Grecian gods and( heroes, buried beneath the ruins of ancient Ilonome, were (tdug up finoi their graves. Under Pope Eugenius IV., A. D. 1430, only five had been obtained entire. Froii A. D). 1480 to 1506), a large number, including the group of Laoeo6n, were rescued, and, deposited in the Vatican and Farnese Palaces of RIiome and the halls of the -Iedici at Florence. The study of these ancient mnodels, and the ambition to restore the parts of them that werec lost, gave a permanent Grecian cast to Italian taste in sculpture. Another influence arlose froia the Platonic club organized by the 192 CANOVA, AND ITALIAN SCULPTURE. l1elici, tending to the republication of the Greek classics, tht revival of the spirit of Grecian literature and art, and the harmonizitng of its doctrines with the principles of the ChlristiaLn faith. The artists of that day vwere not great masters; as their restoratil() ofi mutilated antiques shows. The improved schools of the Nortlh did not reach Southcrn Italy; its style was a profuse ornanl(IJit. In Naples Bernini conceived the unartistic idea of carrying the ornaniecuted style of Corregio's painting into sculpture. The Florentine school, too, became degenerate. The opening of PoinI)cii, in 1740, and the treatise on ancient sculpture by Winckel]iiian, finnred to a flamie the enthusiasm for classic sculpture. Ilecce obscure churches of Italy now rejoice in perfect gems, Grecian in grace and Christian in themne, the offspring of this revived taste; of which the three veiled statues, Modesty, Vice, the Dead and Christ, in the retired Church of Santa Marlia della Piecta, are incomparable masterpieces. P'roimiiient in this new era was Canova. Born A. 1). 1757, the son of a stone-cutter, in the ninth year of his age he entered the studio of a sculpl)tor at Venice. Having visited Ilome, Naples, and the new collections finom Pompeii, he established his studio first at VAenice. Visiting again Germany and afterward Paris, he retur]ed to his iiitive town, where he remained till his death in 1822. Ciiiov-lt's works, representatives of modern Italian sculpture, grioup tlhenselves under three classes; first, classic themes, the pI)roiiiptiiings of esthetic cravings; second, religious studies, the suggiiestion of higher aspiing,s after moral excellence; and third, historical or private subjects, as busts and statues of living men, undertaken firom the necessities of livelihood. The capitals of Austria anid France have numerous memorials of the latter class froni Canova's chisel; the churches of Italy abound in the second; and the collections of amateurs in almost every country in Europe have- relics of the first class of his works. Carving in marble is with the Italian a hereditary pursuit; and, as among, the thousands of workmen in an English or American fietory some develop great inventive skill, so among the thousands of common chippers, carvers and polishers of Italian birth, emploved on great public works in almnost every country, here and there a true artist is called out. 17 I 1 IC13 ART CRITICISM. SECT. 6. TIlE UNION OF SIMPLICITY IN DESIGiN, NATURAL BEAUTY OF FORMT, AND LIVELINESS OF EXPRESSION DISTINGUISHING SCUTLPTURE IN NORTHERN EUROPE. Though taste for sculpture had its rise in Northern Europe from the visits of Italian artists, yet rude native genius has been refined by the classic influences of Southern Europe. Even Spain had a native art-taste which Italian refinement only modificd. Trained amid MIoorish glitter, chastened afterward at Rome, Paul de Cespides raised sculpture in that land of grand ideas to something like dignity. The "Fountain of the Innocents," at Paris, executed by Gougoiin, and the works of Jacques d'Angouleme, both of the sixteenth century, the Caryatides of the Louvre, by Sarrasin at a later day, though French, show nevertheless the influence of classic Italy. In the brilliant era of Louis XIV., Girardon and Puget succeeded by Falconet, gave that yet more marked native type to French sculpture, which won for it the title "La Belle." The master in French sculpture was Hioudon. Born in 1741, inspired by Winckelmann, in youth he visited the unburied cities of IH:eculaneuiiil and Pompeii, as also Rome; during which time he executed his famous statue of St. Bruno, of which Pope Clement XIV. said, "He would speal7 did not the rule of his order enjoin silence." Returning to Paris he executed busts and statues of public men. At the invitation of Franklin, then at Paris, he visited America in 1785, and took casts for the statue of Washington, now at Richmond, Va., which, when executed, Lafayette declared to be the best likeness obtained of the American patriot. He died in 182S at the age of eighty-seven years; having passed through the most perilous national vicissitudes in quiet devotion to art. In Gelmany, genius in sculpture, restricted at first by the spirit of the Reformation firom religious themnes, has been characterized as "excelling in funereal monuments." In the sixteenth century, Peter Viseher's group of the Twelve Apostles led the way to the works of Schliiter, Schadow, Danneeker, Rauch and others; by whom thenmes of classic and Christian, of national and individual interest, have been ennobled in sculpture. In Denmark, Thlorwaldsen, born 1772, the son of an Iceland 194 N ENGLISII COLLECTORS A ND SCULPTORS. stone-cutter, sent in youth by the Royal Academy of Copenhtagen to Roiiie, has broughlt more than regal honor to his native land by his works of clas~ic and Christian sculpture. His DI)ay and Night are geiiis everywhere popular. The style of Thorwaldsen is bolder antd iore full of passion and of majesty than that of Canova; his lifc-lolg lHomian culture mloulding,, but not giving original shape to the peculiar type of the sculpture of Northern Europe, as eclectic in culture tlhought independent in thenmes. In Belgiuin the two brothers, Williami and Joseph Geef, have during the presect generation given fine examples of the permnanelct uiiion of the Christian and classic ideals, which seems a natural sug,,eQtion to artists of Northern Europe. SECT. 7. THE SCOPE OF SUBJECT AND VIGOR OF coNcEPTION SEE. IN TIIE EARLY GROWTH OF ENGLISHI AND AMIERICAN SCULPTURtE. WAide extelnt of cldomain, inlvitirng genius to positions of wealth ald( power, thas made England, like Rome, her prototype, a collector, or p)lunderei, rather tllan an originator and executor of works of art in painting and sculpture. In the time of Charles the First, about A. D. 1620, the Earl of Arundel brought from Greece those exquisite bas-ieliefs, pried out from under the cornices of Grecian temiples, and those matchless firagnents of ancient statues, which yet adorn the British liuseum. Nealy two centuries later, firoii 17099 to 1812, Lord Elgin, then representitng Eng,land at Constantinople, made the kindred collection called the Elgin )larbles. 'The early sculptures now found in the Engl,ish churches were by Italiar artists. From the reign of Henry VIII. the spirit of the Refonrmation for a time yielded to the fallacy of iconoclasm, and art was ne,glected; kut inii the eighteenth century native sculptors appeared in the persons of Banks, WAVilton and Bacon. The present century has been as fruitful as the past was barren in the giowth of genius for art in England. Flaxman, born in 1755, having calught in Italy the spirit immortalized on the Etruscan vases, executed his "Illustrations of Honier," which have been admnired foir their spirit in every country of Europe. Westinacott, born in 1774, developed an early taste for ideal creations, which impoverish the pursue, though they enrich the genius of' the artist. His later labor was devoted almost entirely to statues of eminent men. 195 ART CRITICISM. Chantrey, born in 1782, having deserted his law studies at twenty years of aoe, mad(le hiimself famous by a bust of Hiorne Tooke. His statue of Washington in the State House at Boston is prized by Aimericans. In Wales, Gibson, born A. D. 1791, patronized by Williain Roscoe and Lord Biougham, trained at Rome by Canova and Thorwaldsen, devoted his early genius to ideals of ancient mythlology, atnd statues of the living. Independent in spirit, Gibson has venturedl onl the hazardous attempt of Praxiteles to add tint to inarble; his "Victoria" and "Aurora" being slighltly tinged, and his " Venus" completely colored. The riie of native American sculptors, though recent, is yet coiiinarati-ely early; al)pearing as they have in the infancy of the nation, and r ial idly advancing to special emlinence and excellence. T-Iol)kinonll, the ratcv and trenchant satirist of his times, records: "there caei to this country in 1783, iimmediately at the return of Peace, a certain Robert Edge Pine, parading the title'Painter to His lIajesty.' " Said Pine brou,ghlt with him a plaster cast of the VAenus de Iledici; " but," says Hopkii-ison, " he kept it very private!y, as the nianneris of the timies would not permit the exhibition of such a fitgure." The birth of the new nation, however, was immediately and in all sections of the country succeeded by an ambition for sculpture in its higheri formsIS. The statues of Watshington by the foreign aritists, Hioudon, Canova and Chantrey, show a universally awakened popuilar demand for statuary; while that of Rush, carved in 1812, at Philadelphia, is a imonuineniit of the aspiration for native art aroused by the new national life. WAVithl A. D. 1830 begins that noble line of native American sculptors which includes the nanies of Greenough, Clevenger, Crawford, aiiolig the dead, and Povwers, Brown, MAlills, Palner, Stolle, RO,2ei-s, Stor-y, Ilosner and others among the living. Horace Greenough, born at Boston in 1805, left Camnbridge College for PRoiiie at the age of twenty years; where hle miade the acequaintance of Thorwildsen. He established his studio at Florence. His Chanting Cherubs, Aledoi-a, V'enuis Victrix and AI)diel as classic, his Rescue as historic, and llis WAnashiiigton as ideal polrtralit, are imaster works. a(Grn( i's east of lin(d was bold and impulsive; chastened and humanized by a genial urban-ily 196 AMEirICAN SCUL,PTORS AND THEIR WORKS. 197 and gecnerouI', sympatlhy. The slight drap)ing of his Washington has called attention to the fact that Greek sculptors chose the toga fir civil and tlhe bleast-l)late for military lieroes, because they were national; and tlihat Phidias robed his Jove, and Lysippus his Alexander. The head of Greenough's Washington is inconllparably subllimie, and in itself will nmakle the artist ever live in the hleats of his couintrymuen, and in the appreciation of generous critics. His "Venus," too, is of the sweetest loveliness; and the genius that could excel in such opposite styles, uniting the boldlness of Phidias and the grace of Piaxiteles, will shine as a rare one in the history of American sculpture. Thomas Crawford, born at New York in 1814, trained to wood and stone carving, at twenty-one went to Rome and became a pupil of TholwNaldseii. After years of toil his Orpheus, cornnienided by Tlhowa!dsen and Gibson, was ordered for the Boston Athen,eum. His equestrian statue of Washington at Richmond, with the groupl on the pedestal, begun in 184'9, forms the niost elaborate composition in bronze in America. Hlis grandest studies were his modlels for the group in the tymnpanum of the northeast portico of the United States Capitol, and for the colossal Liberty at the apex of the dome; works which have been executed by other hands since his death, in 1857. Hliriam Powers, born in Vermnont, ii 1805, removed early in life to Ohio. Ilaving acquired skill in modeling, after spending seven vears as cirator of a museum, he came to Washington City in 1(8.5, and gained reputation for his busts. Visitinr Italy in 1837, his Eve. niodeled in (1838, drew encoiniumis firom Tliorwaldscen. In 1839 he conceived his masterpiece, the Greek Slave; which has beconie the head of a list of kinidred works wrought by his chis.el. P-(wers' genius is of the quiet and pensive order, the natural offslrilg -of his nuild, unobtrusive nature; a trait which ni.iiifests itself in the retiring modesty and gentle grace of his femnale, and in the repose of his masculine forms. Henry K. Blown, born in Miassaclhusetts in 1814, began the study of I)ortrait l)inting; but a successfil attempt to model a youiig laIdy's head in clay. turned his thoughts to sculpture. After sonei years iii Italyl, lie fixed his residence at New York; which city, as well as Columbia, S. C., is lnarked with the treasures of his skill Clark Mills, born in the State of New York in 1815, went in 17 * ART CRITICISM. youth as a pl)asteier, to Charleston, S. C. His supelior skill in stuceco and the carving of busts led hinm to modeling in clay. In lS4S he received a commission for an equestrian statue of Jackson. His model, prepared fiom a horse trained to rear and stand poised on his hind feet, was the first specimen of its kind in the history of (eque.strian statuary. His genius, taking models firom nature and learning methods from practical pursuits, has triumphed without an instructor in new paths of art. ELrastus D. Palhner, born in the State of New York in 1817, at the age of twenty-nine years, as a pastime, cut in shell the portrait of his wife. His success led him to cameo carving. Having modeled his own child as an infant Ceres, he devoted himself to sculpture. His carving has that exquisite delicacy acquired in cameo cutting, while his conception is most ethereal in its expression. Horatio Stone, reared amid the scenery of the Hudson, devoted for years to landscape-gardening, has given to his countrymen in his Hanilton and Hancock most impressive monitors. A high conception of the spirituality and sacredness of the sculptor's calling characterizes his works. Rogers, whose bronze doors for the U. S. Capitol have been adnmired even in Munich, where his castings were made, promises elinenlce in finished work. Story, Barbee, and others are destined to a high future fale. Harriet Hosmer, born in ]1831, has commenced a line, most promising, of female sculptors; Gibson, the English sculptor, being her chief teacher. Vinnie Ream is displaying rare genius, yet in its dawn. 198 BOOK IV. ARCHITECTURE; OR THE COMBINING OF FORMS, WITH THE UNITED ENDS OF UTILITY AND BEAUTY. ARCITFTCTURE, derived firom architektgn, a master-builder, is primarily a useful, and only secondarily a fine art. It was naturally the first of arts; siclee men require habitations before they demand any added ornaments. Hence some urge that architecture be made the first amniong the fine arts. In its origin, however, it was not a fine, but a technical art; simple and rude as was man himself; an art in which animals, guided by instinet alone, have excelled. Architecture becomes a fine art only when drawing and sculpture add their grace and power to the builder's skill. CHAPTER I. ORIGIN OF ARCHITECTURE AS AN ART; AND THE PRINCIPLES CONTROLLING ITS FORMS. As a useful art, Architecture began with the origin of man. In Eden man needed no other shelter than the bowers formned by branching trees and creeping vines. The art of building has kept p-ace with hulman advancemient in civilization. SECT. 1. CIRCUMSTANCES DETERMINING THE STRUCTURE OF PR1 VATE DWELLINGS. The material of dwellings has always been dependent on the nature of the country and the wants of mankind. The keeper of 199 ART CRITICISM. flocks, like Jabal and Jacob, lives in a tent made of cloth easily removed. In the mnountain regions in and about Palestine, the descendants of Lot, Es,au and Israel, in rude times, nmade abodes in caves; and Itoier says of the Cyclops, "Their abode is on the summits of mountains, and caverns serve them for retreats." The rude aborigines of Aiuerica made huts of ice and snow in the friigid zone, of mud and bark in the temperate latitudes, and of paln branches and grass in the torrid regions. In the plains of ancient Assyia, they built of brick laid in bitumen, because they had neither stone nor limte; and in Eg,ypt of limestone, sandstone and granite, because all these were abundant on their river's brink. Two necessities have controlled style of building; protection from men, and firom the elements of nature. Cain, with the fear begotten by criiine, "built a city;" and firom Job's day dwellers in Asia have built closely walled towns on precipitous hill-tops like ancient Jerusalem. The early Greeks also perched their first citadels on a jutting rock called the Acropolis; as is seen in ancient Athens and Corinth. Plato argues, "A city takes its rise from this fact; that no man can be self-sufficient; since we all have many wants beyond our own powers. Can you imagine any other principle originating the building of cities?" Aristotle, more comiprehensive, urges that the inherent love of society for the sake of aidi,g others, the yearning of men to have power and repute as public benefactors, is the secret of organized society. Aristotle, therefore, and Vitruvius after him, make civil architecture cover all that belongs to the art proper. Yet again, climate and shape of country give laws for building. Houses in India are surrounded by open verandahs for shade; and in volcanic countries they are but one story in height. Swiss cottages have shiarp-peaked roofs and projecting eaves to cut and fling aside the falling snow; and on sunny plains dwellings have flat roofs as promenades in the cool evening breeze. Since necessity originates laws of taste, to put a Swiss cottage on an open field, a grotto on a plain, a house with an open verandah in a cold clime, or to build a summer house of brick, or a castellated structure of wood, perverts the idea in which architecture as an art originates. 200 PRINCIPLES OF DESIGN IN ARCHIITECTURE. 201 SECT. 2. THE DEMANDS OF MIAN'S SOCIAL NATURE GIVING ORIGIN TO ARCHITECTURE AS AN ART. When men comljined in society and co-operated to rear a structuire for united assembling, one superior imind naturally acquired ascendan,vcy and assumied sway, forminig the plan and regulating the lmanly hands employed in the labor of executing the design; thus originating the office of architect, or chief builder. Regarding military defence its chief end, Plato calls architecture, episterie, a science; saying, "After the science of building had thus arisen," in necessity for comiiunon defence, "it sep)arated itself fromn the other sciences and took the distinctive name architectural." Aristotle, confining it to civil structures, miakes architecture an art, techc u. tlumian structures have three ends. Mlilitary architecture enmbraces the construction of forts, roads and canals; IHerodotus re strictinig the term to this department. Naval architecture relates to structures muade to float as habitations, to fly as messeingers of coilulterce, or to sweep the ocean and command continents as moving c;istles and fortresses. Civil architecture comprises private dwellings to shelter families, and public halls for purposes of social enjoynienit or improvemient. The leading uses of' public buildings grow out of man's material, intellectual and religious wants. The principles that should control thleir structure, according to Greek architects, are these five; first, tttlxs, or order, the proper ariangement of parts before putting thcem together; seco~i(l, syitiioietrit, proportion in size; thir(I, eCit(itlh)lit(, harlnony in numbler, and in the adjutistmnent of the parts both in their separate dimensions and in their interlocking junetures; fouerth, dia(thesis, or composition, the disposing of the portions of an extended edifice so that they shall be beautiful as a whole; and fifth, oiol,7io?oia, or economy, the securing of the usefidl ends for which the building was erected. Ruskin, in his "Seven Lamiips of Architecture,' presents five purposes and seven guides to their accoimplishlient. The puirposes of edifices are: first,'" devotional," for religious worship; second, " nmeiiirial," as private and public monumients for the dead; third, "civil," as public edifices for business and recreation; fourth, "miilitary," for defence against armied foes; and fifth, "do I.. ART CRITICISM. mestic," for family abodes. The seven lamps or seven gudi(ing pr;.ic&)l(s that control the architect are these; fi-st, "Sacrifiee," undecr which thc Jewish temple is considercd; second, "Truth," which leads to the discussion of the propriety of Gothic drops, firescoed domies representing the open sky of a hypothrlal temple, and the use of iron as material for building; thi'd, "Power," which emlbraces massiveness as an element of architectural effect; fo)irth, "Beauty," relating chiefly to architectural decorations; fifth, "Life," the miaking of an edifice the exponent of living thingis and of the mien who rear it; sixth,''" eiiiory,'' as moniiulments of histoiryN, conservators of old ideas and relics of the past; s(ie)ith, "Obedience," respect for great men and their plans, as oppose(l to enpl)iricisml and striving for novelty. Aimin o buildings to promote niaterial ends are miarkets, the qzor( of the Greeks andfo) -.1)l of the Latins. The Forum was an ellil)tical eiinclosuie, surrounded by covered sheds or porticoes two stories in height. withl prqjecting galleries where men of leisure could saiunter. The pillars in the Grecian agoria were close set but in the Poinan Forum miore open. The lower porticoes were occup)ied by bankers and tradesmen;. and the upper balconies contained seats for spectators of the diversions of the Forum. The Basilica. or Ro.-al Hall, was a rectangular building, with a lofty portico, having inner halls and outer galleries. The buildings designed to meet intellectual wants are of two clas.ses; educational and asthetic. Those for ia.st,uctio.i proper elib)iace schools, colleges, lecture and lyceumi halls, librariies and halls of collections in science and art. In ancient Greece practical instructors, like Socrates, used the stoa, or covered porticoes around the ua(ora; while for select pupils the Ac(,demnia of Plato, the L1ykeioit of Aristotle, and the M3ouse/ont of Alexandiia were erected. Structures designed to minister to the sej.sili''ties were the theatre and the amphlitheatre. The amphitheaties furnished exhibitions addressed only to the eye; while the theatre, both among the Greeks and the Romans addressed the uiind through the ear as well as the eye. The study of acoustic effects, based ol mathematical calculations, secured in these illimenise areas the requisites for audience-halls. The moral ends sought in public structures are two; civil and rcligious. The Piiyx for popular oratory, the Areoplagus for jul.i 202 FORPMS OF COLUMNAR DECORATION. cature, and the Acropolis covered with temples to the gods, were alike moral l)owers. The Capitol of Romie was at once the seat of law and of' religion. The structures erected for religious ends are tem~ples and tombs. In rude ages, religious worship is held in the open air, under shlady trees; alike by ancient Druids and modern Christiani worshipers. Afterward Pagan and Jewish temples, Christian churches and Iohaiiimedan mosques were erected in a large enclosure. The Grecian teimeJios or Roman delubritni, with its grove and open field was1 requisite for the slaughter of bullocks and the smoke of burning flesh; while the Laos or teniplunm, within this enclosure, was the shrine of devotion. From the times of the rearing of Egyptian tenmples down to the building of Christian churches, sacred architecture will be found to be the central interest in the history of the art; and often entirely to absorb it. SECT. 3. PRINCIPLES ORIGINATING AND GIVING FORM, TO COLUMINAIt ARCIIITECTURE. ('oliiilar appendages to edifices, originating in necessity, came to lbe the chief field in which genius and skill sought their highest triunli)lhs. As the falce in the human portrait, so the facade in the Ipub,lic b)uilding is, as their common derivation indicates, the chief wvoik of the artist. Public and private edifices need projecting )potieoes as a shelter from sun and rain; and these must have el)itmnlar supports. 'itl'ruvius hints the origin as to material and shape of columnns first used. Sections of the trunks of trees, first employed as coiner-p)osts, gave proportions for rude columns suited to, as it was suggested by the kind of tree selected. The bulging stump and pI)rojecting branches formed a natural base and capital. The style of colunnar decorations has been suggested by favorite plants; in Egypt, destitute of trees, the water-lily winning the post of honor; ill hIdia the banyan; in China the palm; in Greece the shade trees of academic groves; and in France the monarchs of Northern forests. As all structures are built by men for mankind, so the human stature has ever been the naturally chosen modulus for entrance doors and interior elevations. Columns have conformed to this law; not only true human figures, as the Egyptian Osirite and 203 A RPT CRITICISM. Grecian Caryatides directly showing this, but also the general propoitions of the orders in architecturc miakiing it manifest. SECT. 4. LOCAL CIRCUMISTANCES, AND NATIONAL PECULIARITIES O,ESTHETIC CULTURE AND MORAL CONVICTIONS, GIVING ORIGIN TO LEADING STYLES IN ARCHITECTURE. The p)arts of every building are the walls, roof, platform and porticoes; the modification of which, through the influence of local, national, aesthetic or moral causes, have led to diversity of styles and schools in architecture. Local circumstances, to a great extent, determine the material of buildings. In a new and wooded country the walls and roof are fiom necessity of perishable material. In Assyria, destitute of wood and stone, burnt brick was used; in Egypt, abounding in stone and having no rain, stone for temples and unburnt brick for lthuts were employed; while in Europe and America iron is becoming common. The slight showers of Northern Afiica and Western Asia allow roofs to be flat for promenades; while from Greece northward tliiough Italy to France the roof pitch constantly increases the steepness. The breadth and height of porticoes decrease with latitude. The temple of Egypt on a plain needed no raised platform; but a Grecian temple on a rounded eminence must have a flight of steps around the depressed border. Forms of religious belief and aesthetic culture have had an influence yet more decided. The reptile-worshiping Egyptian made his shrines dismal cells; but the hero-worshiping Greek reared in their place cheerfil open halls. Hebrew and Christian sanctuaries have sought broad, elevated, airy and well-lighted audience-halls, since their services are chiefly addressed to the mind through written records. Very generally, therefore, the student's cloister is an attachment to their precincts. 204 EGYPTIAN, OR MASSIVE ARCIHITECTURE. 205 CHAPTER II. EGYPTIAN, THE TYPE OF ASIATIC ARCHITECTURL, IN WHICH MASSIVENESS IS THE AIM. TIIE ancient relics of Asiatic architecture seem by their massiveness to have been prompted by the spirit of the men who, just escaped from the deluge, said, "'Let us build us a city and a tower whose top may reach unto heaven." The massive was certainly the aim in this early structure; and in less than two centuries it is found transferred to Egypt as its native home. SECT. 1. THE USES OF EGYPTIAN STRUCTURES CALLED TEMPLES; GIVING CHARACTER TO THEIR FORMS OF ARCHITECTURE. There are two classes of structures in Egypt whose vastness in their ruins still fills the world with adniration. The first reared above ground, called temples, answered the three-fold purpose of palaces for royalty, of fortresses in war, and of shrines for religious worship. The second constructed under ground, called tomnbs, were burial-places for the dead. Both the style and design of the Egyptian temples are illustrated in the modern cities of India. In Lucknow, above whose square miles covered with miud hovels massive fortresses, called B(.qh, are scattered at distances of from one-half to three-quarters of a mile front each other, a perfect counterpart is seen to the "hundredgated Thebes," mentioned by Homer. On the eastern bank of the Nile stands first the temple of Luxor, covering a quarter of a mile square; and distant from this a mile and a half to the northeast is the temple of Karnak, covering half a mile square. On the western bank, half a mile firom the river, is a third temple; a third of a mile farther, a fourth; and so on till even a seventh and an eighth are passed. Of these the fifth is the celebrated Memnonium, before whose portal stand the vocal AIemnon and his brother; and the sixth, "Medinet Aboo," falmed for the beauty and perfection of the bas-reliefs on its walls. 18 ART CRITICISM. SECT. 2. GENERAL ARRANGEMENT, THREE ORDERS OF COLUMNS AND CORNICE OF TIHE EGYPTIAN TEMPLE. In the temple of Kainak the largest of the number, the oigiiial shrline was reared by a Phlaraoh of Joseph's day. The foundations are of limestone, not disintegrated by moisture. The walls are of sandstone, easily cut by the chisel with the sculptures which cover them. The roof is of immense blocks of sandstone laid across froiii wall to wall. The interior facing is of granite, which received a polish like that of inarble. In front of this first shrine two niassive walls from thirty to forty feet high, form the sides of a hollow square, whose back is the shrine and its firont a castellated gateway one hundred feet high, called a pylon, fiom the Greek ptle, a gate; enclosing an area of three or four acres. Along the sides of this open court is a covered colonnade; and in front of the teiijple a portico with a double row of columns. Before the pylon towered a pair of lofty obelisks, or of gigantic statues, or of both; the obelisks being of red granite firom sixty to one hundred feet in height, and fi'oi twelve to fifteen feet square at the base, tapering gradually till near the top, where they terminate in a I)yramnidal point; and the statues beinr of red granite or grayish porphyry, and rising sixty feet in a st.anding or seated posture. In the temple of Karnak, covering half a mile square, portion after portion, halls, porticoes, obelisks, enclosing walls and pylons, were added during a period of 1800 years, byI) Egyptian, Grecian and Ronan occupI)ants. In the grand hall of this structure is a forest of columns covelring an acre of ground; two rows of' which are twelve feet in diameter, and sixty-six feet in height. Over the entrance passage at the east the roof is formed of blocksof sandstone five feet in thickness, and thirty feet long, raised thirty feet high, and laid across fioln wall to wall. A pair of obelisks in firont of the grand hall of Karnak nmeasure ninety-two feet in height. In E,gyptian structures, temple walls and pylons, as well as obelisks and pyranids, slope inward from the base to the summit; according to the law of strength giving beauty, and of stability ensuring grace. In this the E,vlyptiains, unilike the Grecians, exaggerated nature so mluch as to filsify her law. In Egyptian, as in Grecian columnar orders, three ideas prevailed. These columns were styled by the savans of 1798 according to the model of their 206 EGYPTIAN COLUMNS AND CORNICE. cal)itals. the lotus bud, the lotus flower, and the Osiride or head tf' Oiiris; but tlhey have been bettel classified by D)r. Walter, the American architect, as the ro/)itst,?)e(titt)it and the (tclicatte, corrcsl)oIiding severallv to the three Grecian orders. In the robust the hleight is about five diamieters, in the niedium six, and in the slecnderi seven dialmeters; though no two sp)ecimiens agree in every respect. The robust has its shaft soimetimtes smooth and sculpturied, but generally reeded and banded like a bundle of lotus stalks; its cap)ital a lotus bud eitlher smooth or slighltly foliated; and its bL.se rounded and foliated like a tuber root; copies of which are se(n iii Philadelphia and New York prisons. The imedium has its shaft plain or sculptured; its capital has four human faces with c,ws' ears; while its base is a plain p)rojecting foot-slab. The delicate hlas its base rounded and foliated as a tuber root, and the capital an inverted bell or open lotus flower, soiiietiimes smiooth, soiiietiines slighItly foliated, and somIetimies with leaves deeply cut. A iiinixed or composite oider grew up after the Grecian conquest, tlhe capitals bein?, both Osiuide and foliated; specilmlens of which are ft'und in the Isle of Phil,c, at I)endera, at IKarnak, and at Al)p(llinol)olis. The knowledge of geometrical I-)ropoi-tions known to the Egyptian is seen by cutting a horizontal section of one of these columns. The depressions or grooves in the reeded shaft, and tlhe peril)hery of the capital, are found to be included within a series of oNvelying1 squares inscribed in a circle; showing the nicety with which every part of the surface of the shaft and capital was calculitel firom the centre of the coltumn. The cornice of thle Egyptian temples projected one-half its heighlt. Its lower half is flat; the upper curves outward, the curve being a quIariter cylinder, having one-half the height of the cornice as its radius; a feature often overlooked in copies after the Egyptian style. A plain fillet or band runs along the top of this curve or Cavetto, and an ornamental bead along its base; the bead extendipg also down the corners of the pylon in the more finished Egyptiaii structures. The contrast between Egyptian and Grecian art is seen in this; that while the Greeks emp)loyed the mIore elaborate curves of the conic sections, as the ellipse and parabola, in moulding architectural ornaments, the Egyptians used ionly the simpler culrve of the circle. 207 ART CRITICISM. SECT. 3. THiE STPUCTURE OF EGYPTIAN TOMBS, THE FACADE OF POCK-IIEWVN TEMPLES AND TIE LABYRINTI[. The tomnbs of Egypt are back of the large cities, excavated into the limestone walls of the ravine inL which lie the river Nile and its alluvial banks. Large halls were cut with lateral passages and rooms along each passage; and the walls coated with cement, were then covered with sculptures and 1)aintings representing all the scenes of active business life. The coffins of the dead were placed in a standing posture around the walls, and the chambers successively walled up. The reigning king's name was written in hileroglyphics at the portal. Finally the exterior entrance in the mountain wall was closed by an immense stone, and the desert sand heaped over it. In Nubia, above Egypt, where the sandstone allowed it, immenese temple fronts with columns and architectural ornaments were cut in the solid rock. In the facade of the temple of Aboo Simibel are statuesque columns, the most beautiful in all Egypt, about sixty feet high. The famed Labyrinthl, the niost remarkable specimen of Egyptian underground architecture. situated about fifty miles above ancient Menmph;is, consisted of twelve palace-teipl)les above ground, with twelve corresponding tombs below ground; including in all one thousand five hundred rooms. Virgil's picture of the one with a "thousandl passages," built in Crete by Daedalus, through whose widiigs even the artist had to guide himself by a thread, has given a fabulous air to thlis wonder of E,gyptian art. SECT. 4. THE OBELISK AND PYRAMID AS TYPES OF TIlE MASSIVE IN THE ARCHITECTURE OF EGYPT. The obelisk in temples and the pyramid among tombs are cha,racteristic featiures of Asiatic architecture. The obelisks placed in pairs before temple entrances are needles of red granite with a base about one-twelfth of their height, polished to a mnirror-like smoothness, and covered with hieroglyphics. Of these forty-two were conveyed to Rome between the times of Augustus and of Constantine; and Constantinople, Paris and other cities have so followed up the plunder that only eight are now left in Egypt; namely, two at Alexandria, one at Heliopolis, and five at Thebes. The largest remaining are ninety-two feet high, and eight feet in diameter 208 IISTORY OF EGYPTIAN ARCHITECTURE. Of the largest removed, one at Rome is seventy-eight feet, and one at'aris seventy-six feet high. Those at Thebes are still )el'fectly iniror-like in pclish after the lapse of ages; but Cleopatra's Needle, at Alexaiidiia, is niuchl defaed on the seaward face by the salt spray. Thle fices of somie have a convexity of 3~, wlhich prevents a complete shadowv on the entire face, and the consequent hiding of the sculptures when the face is shaded. The forim of the pyraiiiid, like that of the obelisk, represents, as its name initimates, a tongue of flame, the emnblem of the spirit ascending. They were a very ancient conception, and laid aside in the advance of the race; all bein, conmpleted in the early patriarchal age. The oldest and lairgest is seven hundred and sixty-four feet squale at the base, covering over thiuteen acres, and fc,ur hundred and eigh,lty feet nine inches in height. The slope of its side, therefi)re, is an angle of 51~ a51'; a steepness of inclination which makes it difficult and even dangerous of ascent. The pyramid stands with its faces due north and south and east and west. The entianiec passage declines at an angle of 27~; and as the latitude of the pyramid is about 30~, this, with other like indications, have been regarded as an index to the Egyptians' knowledge of astronollny as well as of geoiiietry. Early historians agree in the statement tlhat the py-ramiids were designed to be the tombs for kings; while ancient tradition hints a theory, revived by miodern savans, that the granite-cased inner vaults were meant to contain standard weigh,lts and nleasures. SECT. 5. ITE HISTORY OF -GYPTIAN ARCHITECTURE; THE PERMTA NEXT TYPE, MASSIVE IN MTATERIAL AND PERMANENT IN ITS RUDE AND SOMIBRE CAST; ITS SIMPLE MIASSIVE ORIGINALS; ITS ASIATIC GORIGEOUSNESS; ITS GRECIAN REFINEMENT; AND ITS ROMAN GRANDEUR. Egyptian architecture, having a long history and well-preserved mnonuments, filrnishes a most strikiig exhibition of the power of national conceptions in contriolling forei,gn ideas introduced, and )f proseiving substautial ty-pes, while it nmay be niodified in exterilil aspect by an impiove(l civilization.'I'The Egyptian paliace-teiiil)ies and tonlbs. so well p)reserved tihat the woiks of different oig(es a.ie readily recognized under rulers of varied nationalities, never departed in plan or principle flom the early model. Though entirely 209 is ". ART CRITICISM. unlike their own religious shrines, Asiatic wise men and Grecian and Rounan conquerors, reared temples having the same flat roof and circular cornice, with porticoes having columns of ore of the three Egyptian orders, fironted by immense open courts surrounded by colonnades, and having obelisks and colossal statues standing or seated before their portals, as well as avenues of guarding sphynxes leading to their outer entrances. All the foreign possessors of the land, too, went back to the line of desert mountain rock into which to cut their tombs; they excavated the branching passages; they stuccoed and carved the walls; and they drew pictured and painted scenes of life in a style perfectly Egyptian: denationalizing themiselves to become ministers to ruder conceptions. The four eras already marked in the history of Egyptian sculpture are to be noted in its architecture. The first is the age of rude native taste. The pyramids built of limestone and having chainbers lined with granite, and the inner shrine of the grand temple at Thebes, with plain octagonal columns of sandstone, are the only monuments of this age. The second era was that of Asiatic gorgeousness; the age of commerce and foreign influence, extending from Osirtasen I., in the days of Joseph, to its culmination under Osirei and his famed suecessors, Remeses I. to IV. Its matchless monuments are the grand hall of the temple of Karnak, the Remesiumi and the BIemnionium, and the richer tombs of Thebes. Any one of the forest of columns in the grand hall of Karnak, twelve feet in diameter and sixtysix feet. high, embodies the idea of the age; Egyptian massiveness with Asiatic gorgeousness. The third or Grecian era, had as its centres Alexandria in the north and Phile at the south. Its grand works at Alexandria were the Pharos, or light-house, the library and museum reared by the Ptolemies. The beautiful temples on the Isle of Ptile are its preserved memorials; showing how even Egyptian heartness was made light and graceful by the touch of Grecian genius. The last and Romnan era has its two grand monuments in the teimples of Dendera atd of Esneh. Both are simple shriles, without enclosing courts, pylons or obelisks; but loftier and grander than any earlier covered structure in Egypt. That at Esebh has columns with the lotus capital; those at Dendera are Osiride; both have a screen exquisitely wrought in a sort of lattice running he 210 ARCIIITECTURE] OF INDI)A AND E. ASTA. tween the outside row of colnumns anti rising to half their height. The zodiacs on the ceilings of both seei a suggestion of the Julian period in astronomy. The absence of surrounding pylons, obelisks and statues is a feature of the independence of the Roman sway; while the perfectly Egyptian idea and style of the shrine itself is an interesting comment on Roman policy, which not only recognized but adopted the religion, as well as the local customs and state institutions, of every conquered nation. In the single temple of Karnak there is an epitome not only of all the four eras, but of several stages in some of these eras. The ilmiprovemcent of art is specially conspicuous in the second era, the age fromi Joseph to the successors of Moses. SECT. 6. THE ARCHITECTURE OF INDIA, EASTERN ASIA AND WEST ERN AMERICA; TIlE DECLINING PIIASE OF THE MASSIVE STYLE. As in sculpture so in architecture a resemblance with growiing dege,nerac can be traced eastward from Egyplt through India, China and Polynesia to America. Its ancient relics in Hither India, Polynesia and America, and its modern representatives in Farther Indiai and China, are degenerate specimens of the same style. In India the most interesting relics are found at Elephanta and Eilloa, alrieady referred to. On the isle of Elephanta the entrance to a rock-hewn temple is sixty feet wide, and eighteen feet high; the grand hall, one hundred and twenty-three feet wide and one hundred and thirty feet long is cut into the solid rock; and the walls are covered with sculptures in relief. At Ellora a line of similarly excavated temples run along a miile and a half on a hillside, most of which are one hundred feet in depth; while one has a I)agodai-like roof cut into the rock ninety-five feet high, differing firom the pyramidal roof in being circular. In Fartlher India the pagoda is characteristic; a steep pyramid in shal), having niumerous stories each of less area than the one next lower. The Burimese pagoda, generally square, resembles in general outline the Pyramid of Sakkhara; its proportionate height being muclh greater than that of the pyramid. One at Pe(gu is three hundred and sixty-one feet high, and its base only three hundred and ninety-five feet broad. One at Ava has in the colonnade of its first stage eight hundred and two columns of sandstone, each five feet hi li. 211 ART CRITTCISM. In China the bell-shaped flare of the curved roofs, in tlhe style of a tent with pavilioned covering., ads grace to their pyramidal pagodas. To this class belonge( the ftriouis porcelain tower of Nanking. finished A. D. 1431. This pagoda, recently destroyed, octagonal in form, and two hundred and thirty-six feet high, was of brick covered with plates of porcelain. From its spire and projecting balconies forty-four bells of sweet tone, suspended by chains, kept upl) a miusical chimne as they swung with the wind. In the islands of the Pacific are ancient architectural relies in the style of Burmnah and Egypt. Amiong these is a pyramnid fifty feet high with a base two hundred and seventy by ninety feet. In WAestern America, as MIexico and Peru, truncated and terraced pyranmids abound; which Iuiaboldt declares iniust have Heen built by a people whose culture was derived fromnt Egyr)t. That at Cliolula has a base 1426 feet broad, four times that of Chcops in Egypt, and an altitude of 162 feet. In later times Stephens has described many others. SECT. 7. THE ARCHITECTURE OF ARABIA, PALESTINE, SYRIA, ASSY RIA AND PEIISEPOLIS; THE ADVANCING PHASE OF THE MASSlIVE STYLE. In tracing the progress of the art of architecture, as well as of sculpture, along the eastern borders of the ]Mediterranean, the successive influence of several cultured nations is to be carefully discriminated. In the peninsula of 31t. Sinai the tombs cut into the mountain sides are Egyp)tian. At Petra the massive rock-hewn tenimples with flat or p.yramidal roof-peaks show Egyptian mingled with Grecian laste. Entering Syria, sacred as well as secular history, points to a long history of sacred edifices. Jacob's "pillar," called Bethcl, the exenmplar in namre as well as character of the Celtic "Bothel" at Stoneh-enge, was succeeded by the temples of Baal in the north and Dagon in the south, of which Lucian says, "The Phoenicians built in the Egyptian style, though the people were of Dorian origin. The Hlebrew temple of Solomon, reared in an enclosure a quarter of a mile square, was planned by a Phoenician architect. Being ninety feet long, thirty feet broad, and forty-five feet high, having a tower one hundred and eighty feet hi,gh and two coltunis in 212 ARCIIITECTURE OF SYRIA AND W. ASIA. 213 firont, it was manifestly Egyptian in type. The courts surrounding the house, with their porticoes, and the chambers for the college students, are in keel)ping with the Eg3yptian, Indian and Arabian sacered enclosures. The capitals of the two columnis, seven and a half feet hilh, decorated with lily-work and pomegranates, and the C:irvinigs on the inner walls of palm trees and cherubs, are in keepiiig witlI the samie central model. The reconstructed edifice built ly Jzria, B. C. 530, was of the kindred Assyrian orde; while the lt.cr structure of Ilerod, begun B. C. 15, was of the mingled G ianciali anid Oriental t-yp)e favorite amiong the RIoilians.. Baalbek, built by Solomion in the valley between the Lebanon range(s, exhibits the architecture of thee ag,ces. The nmassive f)undlations of the great tenriple are of Ilebrew origin; tlhe ruins of three or four porti(coes and colonnades are Greek Corinthian; a!!d a simall octagonal temple is of l)onian construction, In the foulll l[tion are stories latrger than in any known structure thrce of tlisee built iiito tlle wall twenty fcet above ground being about sixty-four feet long, twelve feet wide, and twelve feet thick. The winged gl()obe with encircling asps sculptured on the walls shows an Egyptian influente coiningi through Tyre. A line of cities on thle Euphrates and its tributaries, front Babylon to Persepolis, reveals a growing transition fioom Egypltian to Grecian ideas. Fergusson traces the introduction of the Ionic capital an(l other architectural ornaments from Persia to Asia Minor and thence to Greece. CIIHAPTER III. GRECTAN ARCHITECTUTRE; CFIARACTERIZED BY 3IATIIEALkTICAL EXACTNESS IN FORMS AND DELICATE GRACE IN ADORNMENT. THE germ of miathematical science, learned by the Greeks as their historians arree in Egypt, was applied with surpassing nicety by Grecian archi'ect, in the construction of their masterpieces. As in sculpture the Greeks secured life and expression, so in ART CRITICISM. their architectural works they sought a lightness and grace inconsistent with Egyptian massiveness. SECT. 1. THE INFLUENCE OF FACE OF COUNTRY AND MATERIAL IN GIVI-NG ChARACTER TO GRECIAN ARCHITECTURE. The Greeks lived in a mountain regioni; their citad(lels rose on rocky promol)ntories such as the Acropolis of Athlens and Corinth and their temples, standing unenclosed, required a kindred finish on all sides. Their structures were but one story in elevation, with a low, gently sloping roof, and without tower or pylon in firont. The chief charm of the Grecian temple was its gable. The columns of the portico rose to the caves; the slope of the roof above was the least possible to allow the shedding of rain; and the tytmpainuni or open triangular space at the end of the roof furnishled a sheltered niche for finely carved statuary. The material for building furnished to Greek architects, white marble of the finest texture, aided the realization of their ideal. SECT. 2. THE PERMIANENCE AND COMPLETENESS OF GRECIAN COLUMiNAR ARCIIITECTURE. Pliny, speakiing of the lalby)rinthl of Crete, says that Dmdalus its architect "closely imitated in this structure the celebrated labyrinth of Egypt." YLet the earliest temp)les executed by Grecian architects were as distinct in their type as those of the day of Phid(ias. The beautiful and romantically situated temple of Jupiter Panhellenicos, on the elevated eastern shore of the island of Egu3ina, which colnnmaids a panoramic view of Greece, built according to Pausanias before the Trojan war, is of the oldest and miost niassive columnar order. The architectural works of Greece, alike in all their main features, have three distinct orders of columnns. These orders, though their namnes, Doric, Ionic and Corinthian, are all found in the samie age at Athens, are borrowed fronom three types of progress in culture; the purest specimen, the Parthenon, being of the oldest or mnost massive order. Their ideas and general features are graphically presented by Tlhomnson: "First unadorned And nobly plain. the manly Doric rose; Th' Ionic then, with decent matron grace Ilor airy pillars heaved; luxuriant, last The rich Corinthian spread her wanton wreath." 21,1 GRECIAN f'OLUMNAR ARCHITECTURPE. Tke Doric derived its name from the Grecian colonists of Doris in Asia Minor; whose people surpassed even those of the mother country in art and science. Vitruvius says, "They sought that medium which should make these columns sufficiently strong to sustain the front of the edifice, and at the same time should render theIi agreeable to the view. In order to do this they took the measure of the foot of man, which is the sixth part of his lhecighlt; upon which mieasure they formed the height of their column." The Ionic column originated among the Ionian islanders west of Greece. "They sought to introduce a new order of columns by giving to them the proportions of the female figure; and, that they mighlt be emblematical of female delicacy, the height of the columns was eight tinmes the lowest diameter. Bases also were given them in imitation of sandals, and volutes were sculptured in the capitals, in allusion to the ringlets which fell down on either side of the fiLce.' ted thus," he adds, "were two species of orders inventt,:l: lie representing the strength and simplicity of man, the otli,r the fine proportions and the elegance of woman." lThe Corinthianl column, whose proportions vary firom eight to ten diameters of the lower part of the shaft, was suggested, as Vitriuvils records, to Callimachus, the compeer of Phidias, under these circumstances: The nurse of a lovely maiden, who had died suddeuly, placed her trinkets in a basket on her grave, covering it with a tile. In the sipring an acanthus root beneath the basket shot up its tendrils, wounrd its leaves around it, and its branches were bent into spirals under the projecting tile. Callimachus passing by the spot, and observing the basket and the beauty of the young foliage entwined about it, adopted it in the columns of edifices at Corinth; which were thence called Corinthian. The three orders of Grecian columns, because of their exhaustive analysis, have become comprehensive types for all succeeding architectural works. The proportions of the mnale and female form, like the letters of the alphabet and tones in the musical scale in all lands, have, in all ages, been observed and fixed. So in the prilici)ples of columnar architecture the Grecian artists reached an exhaustive analysis which allows no additional type to be conceived. As. however, in language and music there may be new study of details and new arrangement of parts, so in architecture there may be new groupings of previously recognized harmonies, and ail intro 215 ART CRITICISM. duction of new emblems selected from the productions of different clinies. Thec Greeks themselves have left no two specimens even of the same order alike in all thleir plarts. Thus thle D)oic or robust order has at Piestuiii in Italy four diameters as its modulus, and the portico of the Agora at Athels six; while in the mllonumnent of LysicirItes, and the tower of Androinicus, the foliatcd ornaments of the Corinthian capitals beloIng to flowers miost unlike. As the Egyl)tian which precceded, so the Roiiian and Gothic which succeeded, recognized the c,itItO of syimmetly establislhed by the Greeks in their orders; while the revived Grecian of M. Angelo, now a ruling type in uiodecin architecture indicates the decision of greCat artists as to the conipleteness of Grecian analysis. This, their own caio)t, guided the ablest Grecian builders. Thus in the Parthenon, elevated on the Acropolis, to be seen at such a distance thaLt the filer ornaments would be lost, the Doric was used )by Ihidias; while in the sheltered vale below, the telmp)le of Jupiter his the slighter and imore elaborate Coirintliian. The sanme principle of all)daptation has led the architects of the Mladeline at Paris and of the Giralrd College at Phliltdelphlia, both modeled after the I)oric Partlhcenoil. to select the elaborate Corinthian capital; while, too, the architect of the U. S. Capitol has inwrought into the ornaments of Coritnthian capitals, the corn of the northern sections, thle tobacco of the lniddle latitudes, and the cotton of the Gulf States. SECT. 3. THE ARRANGEMIENT OF COLUMNS, WITII TIHEIR INTER COI,UMNIATIONS, ON WIIICtH THE DESIGNATION OF STYLES IN GRE CIAN ARCHITECTURE IS FOUNDED. The Greek temple, according to Vitruvius, should have a breadth equal to half its lengthl. Columinar appendages iiiay consist of one or more rows of columns placed in front, in firont and rear, or on all sides of the temple; and they uiay be differently arranged and bestowed both as to number and to width of intervening spaces. The word style, from the Greek stylos, a pillar or colimnn, as applied to an edifice, indicates the order of its columnar arranoements. The simplest style is that of the temple it aiti's, fiomn (ait;, in which two columins stand in a recess in the galle frot. I'Thle second, called pro-style, has a portico in fr'ont alone; the third, named 216 GR,ECIAN COLUMNAR STYLES. ao?p7i/-style, has a portico at both ends; and the fourth, termed 1peri-style, has a colonnade on all sides; these inames being suecessively derived firoml the G reek prepositions _)'o, antl)ti and peri, with the noun styljos. According, again, to the intervening distances of the colnunn.i, called iittcrCOlit7itit~ittio~i, there are five different styles. Those having their colunius one and one-half dliameters apart are named p)yc,iostyle, or close-set, froui pycuos, tlhe clenched fist; tlhose two diameters apart systyle, or near-set, fiom sy ii togethler; those two and one-half dianieters eustyle, or well-set, foioi ett, well or beautifully; those three diamneters dliast!/le, or ol)pen-set, fiom dia, through or between; and those four diiiiieters (i)eostylte or wide-set, fioiii airaios, broad. According, olice again, to the itittiber of columns in the firont row of the portico, teimples were designated tetrastJlec, hextstyle, octostyle, etc., i. c. (t',,ur-cohliumned, six-columnred, eig,ht-columned, etc. The teriii pteros, a wing, properly applied only to circular buildings, originating amiong the Roilomans, was by them also applied to i-etaitigular bulildings, having no wings proper. A temple having a silngle row of colutmns on all sides was called nioiiopteral, or siugle-winged; one having two rows on all sides was named (li)teral or double-winged; and one having one row of columns and a coirresponding row of pilasters, or half-columins fastened ulpon and projecting fiomni the walls, was designated as pNeucldodiotectl, or false doubl)le-winged. A temnple having an open or Ulnroofed centre was called hylpthr(t, fiom hupo, under, and aithSr, the air. SECT. 4. THE SEVERAL PARPTS OF THIE GREEK TESIPLE, CON SPIRIING TO GIVE GRACE TO GRECIAN ARCIIITECTURE. The three parts of an edifice giving character and expression to its architecture are the colieuns; the eiitablatitre or table capplng, the column.s, and the peduaeitt, or roof-angle resting upon the eritablature; to which may be added the platform, or surrounding ground-stepls. The parts of the column are the b)ase or foot, the shaft or body, and the capital or head. The base of the columns is either square or round, plain or carved. The D)oric coluiiin has properly no base; the Ionic and Corinthian base is a rounded and slightly projecting foot. 217 19 K ART CRITICISM. The shaft slants upward in a parabolic curve so slight that, like that of the tree, it denies its reality to the ordinary eye, but yet reveals itself to the searching analysis of the architect's measuring gauge. The nio(dltlus of the column, as of all portions of the Grecian temple, Vitruvius teaches, was the radius or half-diameter of the lower part of the shaft; and this was subdivided into sixty minutes, or equal minute parts. By application of this nice measure to the shaft of the column at different successive heights, passing from the base upward, it will be found to taper not in a straight slope, but in a parabolic curve. Theftl,tihig of the shaft, the concave of the reed or flute, may be omitted in Doric and Ionic columns; or they may be fluted only at the top, leaving the exposed space at the bottom guarded against chipping. The flutes of the Doric are made to meet each other, leaving only a sharp intervening edge; but in the Ionic, they have a sharper curvature, leaving a narrow central band between them. The Corinthian, always fluted, has its grooves separated, as in the Ionic, by fillets or bands. The extent to which philosophic study was carried by Grecian architects is illustrated by statements of Vitruvius. "The columns at the angles of buildings should have their diameters enlarged by a fiftieth part, because, being from their situation more imimediaitely contrasted with the light, they hence appear less than the others." "The diminution of the shaft in its taper from the top to the bottom is to be thus regulated. To the eye the diameter of the column diminishes as its height increases; hence to preserve the same apparent proportion of the diameters it becomes necessary to increase that of the upper portion of the shaft. If, therefore, the height of the shaft be fifteen feet, the upper diameter should be five-sixths of the lower; if the shaft be from fifteen to twenty feet high, the upper should be eleven-thirteenths of the lower; if thirty feet high, the proportions should be thirteen-fifteenths; if from thirty to forty feet high, the diminution should be oneseventh; if from forty to fifty feet high, the decrease should be one-eighth." "If the width of the temple be more than one-half its length, the proportion should be apparently restored thus. Columns should be placed within and opposed to those between the antPe. These should be of correspondent height; but their diameters should be less in the following proportions: if the 218 PARTS OF THE COLUMN AND ARCHITECTURE. 219 columnns in fiont be eight times their diameter in height, the inner ones should be nine diameters; if the exterior be nine or ten diameters in height, the interior should preserve a proportionate au1gmentation. The difference in the bulk of the coltiimns will not be apparent, because they will not be seen contrasted with the light. If notwithstanding they should appear too slender, the numiber of flutings should be increased. Thus if the columns ill firont have twenty-four flutes, the inner ones may have twenty-eight, or even tlhirty-two; so that what is in fact taken firom the bulk may be restored by the additional number of flutings. This optical deception aiises firom the idea of greater magnitude which is impressed by the transit of the visual rays over a greater surface. For if the peripheries of two circles of equal diameter, one of which is fluted and the other not, be measured by a line which is nlade to be in c(oltact with everv point of the peripheries, the length of the line will not be the same in both cases; because in one it has been iia(le to touch every point in the concave surfiaces of the flutings in the intervals between the fillets. Since this deception therefore uliay be accomplished, it is allowable to nlake columns which are in coufined situations and little exposed to the light less nLassive than the others, because their want of bulk may be rendered imperceptible by augmenting the number of flutings as circumstances may Irequ(ire." The capital, as the column, has properly three divisions of its parts; an upper and a lower tablet and the imoulding between. In the Doric capital the lower tablet is wanting; as the base is wanting in the Doric column. The mioulding of the Doric is a plain ovolo; a curve named firom its egg shape, and limited in size to a quadrant, whether the curve be a quarter of a circle, of an ellipse. of a hyperbola, or of a parabola. The ovolo of the Doric moulding has always the curve of a parabola, or hyperbola, nevel of a circle; the design being to reflect light to the eye looking from below in the most perfect nianner. The Ionic raoulding consisted of two volutes, or scrolls, representing, the curls of hair on each side of the fenmale head; between which was a band, like the fillet worn on the brow of Grecian women, having as pendants fiom it two egg-shaped ovals, separated by triangular tongues, these pendants seeming to be the ornaments of jewelry strung upon the fillet. In the original Ionic, as em APT OCrITICISM. ployed in the Asiatic provinces of Greece, the capital had but two faces, a front and a rear face, while at the side the volutes rounded downward and inward like the smooth-conibed puffs behind the curls of female hair; and the capital thus constructed had a finished character because it was always placed between arttce or other columns, and never at a corner. In Greece proper, however, where the Ionic column was used in porticoes, it was customary for the sake of harmony to give its moulding when standing at a corner, a side as well as a front face; a modification, as we shall see, still farther extended by the Ronoman architect. The maoulding of the Corinthian was a bell-shaped basket as a foundation, overlaid with intertwining stalks and leaves of the favorite acanthus, or of some other plant; as of the fern or the olive. The upper points of the leaves and stalks were represented as bent downward into curls from the resistance of the tablet or tile laid above them. Above the columns the entablature is the second study in the Grecian temple. The entablature is to the range of columns what the capital is to the single column; it is the coping or capping of the entire work. The greater or less elaborateness of its finish was made to correspond with that of the columns in the same edifice. The entablature consists of three parts; the architrave, frieze and cornice. The architrave, fromnt arche and trabs, or main-beam, is the timber or row of stones laid immediately upon the caps of columns, and uniting them together. It projects slightly in fiont of the columns, whose capitals are its rests. In the Doric, the architrave is plain; but in the Ionic and Corinthian it is more or less elaborate. The frieze, so called from the verb freeze or frizzle, to be contracted, is the middle and retired member of the entablature; corresponding to the shaft of the column, whose surface is depressed behind its base and capital. The surface of the frieze is divided into compartments, or panels, separated by small squares cut into three perpendicular bars with grooves between, and called triglyphs. One of these is placed over each column, and one or more between the columns; which squares project in front of the depressed face of the friieze, and represent, according to Vitruvius, the projected ends of rafters in the log cabin after which the Doric order is 220 TIIE GRFECIAN CORNTTCE AND PEDIMENiT. 22] modeled. The intervening spaces between the tri,gly phs are called the imetopes, or openijugs-hetween. Tlhese spaces, originally left open, wvere afterwiards filled with sltlbs, as in the Ptaithenon, lhaving sculpture ill hig'h-relief. The co)-ice, or corona. is the priojecting crown seiving as the col)ing or cap of the entablature. The cornice is divided into its three parts; and these again in elaborate specimens, each into their three subdivisions; this tripartite division of the Greeks being carried into the minutest parts of their work. Underneath the projecting cornice are alwayvs to be noted the mutules or square blocks corresponding to the trygliphs over the columns, and having on their face small circular pendants called drops, because repl)resenting the rain drops, hangin, over the triglyphs whose grooves serve as gutters for their descent. In later periods of the history of architecture mnodiliions and brackets take the place of the iuiutules and ti-riglyphls. Yet above the ental)liture, as the third characteristic study of Grecian architecture, is the pe(liMieiit. The base of the pedinient is the upper part of the entablatiiiue; the sloping sides of the ga,)le or roof-angle rest upon the cornice. projecting' forward even with it and beiiig finished in harmiony, if not in perfect uniformity, with the cornice. The central triangular space called the tympanunl, or drum, offering a deep and sheltered nichle for sculpture, was i-Cegarded as the feature of the Grecian temple, giving it a celestial apl)ect. Thus Cicero remarks of the Capitol of Itonie, "This sanme roof-peak of the Cal)itol and of other edifices, not grace, but necessity itself constructed. For when the reason of the case had suggested, how firom each side of the house the water should be ma(lde to glide, thus securing utility to the temple, the idea of dignity attached to the roof-peak; so that if in heaven a capitol should be erected, where rain could not occur, it would seemi that it would be regarded as not possessing dignity without a roof-peak." An indication of the philosophic spirit that guided the Greek architect is hinted thus by Viti-ruvius: "All tlhe menmbers placed above the capitals of the coliumns. as the architravec, fi-ieze, cornice, tympanuim, etc., oiught to be inclined foi-Nwari-d ea(h tlhe twelfth part of its heilght; since. if a )person looking at the face of an edifice conceives that two lines sci)ari-ate firom the eye, one of which touches the bottom the other the top of the object of vision, it is certain 19 * ART CRITICISM. thalt which touches the top is the longer; and the farther up one line extends, the more it makes the upper part appear to tip backwaid(l; so that if the memnbers which form the face of the upper portion are made to lean a little forward, the whole appears to be perfectly upright and plumb." The platform, or steps which form the ascent to the Grecian temple, adds greatly to its beauty. Unlike the Egyptian, the floor of the Grecian temple was raised some feet above the ground; and the broad and easy flight of steps, with their slant as graceful as that of the roof-peak, formed a pedestal on which the fair structure stood. In a prostyle temple these steps went up only at the front; but in a peristyle structure on all sides. SECT. 5. THE PARTHENON AS THE E.IBODIM)ENT OF GRECIAN GENIUS IN ARCHITECTURE. The Parthenon or temple of Mlinerva, the virgin patron of Athens, is perhaps the completest, as it was the most finished specimen of Grecian architecture. Standing as it does on the lofty rock of the Acropolis, in a position where it is exposed to the rudest blasts which sweep over the plains of Attica, its low massy Doric columns when seen in the distance, seem to be happily chosen as the order of its architecture; while its graceful roof, sloping upward at an angle of only 14~, allows the hurrying gales only to kiss its gently inclined face. As the observer approaches and climbs to the Acropolis enclosure through the l'I-opylea suddenly the whole peerless structure in one enchantirng view breaks on his gaze. The temple stands about two hundred feet back from the Propylea, about one hundred feet to the right, and raised some twenty feet above the beholder, presenting its southwest corner; thus permitting the eye to take in at a glanee its entire length, breadth and height. It is now sadly shattered and dilal)idated, its centre having been torn open by a Venetian bonib, A. D. 16S7; but the large portion yet standing, together with the particular descriptions of such men as Vitruvius who saw it in the days of the first Roman emperor, and of Sir Geo. Wheeler who visited it as late as A. D. 1676, bring all its glory fresh before the gaze of the modern traveler. This peerless model is two hundred and seventeen feet long and ninety-eight and a half feet broad. It is pure Doric; its colirnns 222 THiE PARTHENON AS A GRECIAN MAODEL. 223 being six diameters in heilght, eacht having twenty flutes, no base, and as a capital-moulding a simple ovolo. It is peristyle having columns on all sides; monol)teral, its colonnade being a single row of columns; octo-style, having eight columns in firont; pycno-style, the intereolumniations being one and a half diameters; and hypethrlal, its inner shrine opening to the heavens, firom whose floor the colossal Miinerva lifted her majestic form thirty-eight feet. The architrave was plain and chaste; the roetopes filled with the richest sculpture in relief; the cornice rich but not gaudy; and the tympanum of the pediment ornamented with majestic statuary. Finally the graceful slope of the low graded steps, ascending on all sides, gave a finished elevation to the entire structure. Minute measurements of the Parthenon indicate two funda mental principles. The science which gave proportions requisite to strength and beauty in Grecian structures did not dictate mechanics' patterns, but hinted principles to save genius from error. Again, every line in the stretch of the platform, in the taper of the column, in the sweep of the entablature, is a parabolic curve The centre of the platform on the sides of the temple is elevated twenty inches above the level of the ends of the same range, while the centre of the end range, or of the platform in front and rear of the temple, is correspondently raised; the effect of which is, in conformity with the laws of curvilinear perspective already considered, to give to the eye as it courses over the curved surface the impressionI of greater extent. To adjust the upward taper of the colunmns, each is made up of twelve separate blocks, whose outer side is about one inch thicker than the inner side; thus offsetting the slope of the platform, and giving the column a graceful slant inward. As no tree or man has a fixed measure of dimension, either abso. lute or relative, so no two Grecian edifices are modeled one after another; nor is any one rigidly conformed to any fixed measure. This is strikingly seen in comparing any of the details above given as to the measurements of the Parthenon. To describe every particular of the wonderful science entering into the art of the Grecian architect, would be as endless as was the ever-widening study and ever-growing perfection of the artist himself. ART CRITICISM. SECT. 6. HISTORY OF GRECIAN ARCHIIITECTURE TILL ITS DECLINE. The history of Grecian architecture, as of sculpture, begins with Daedalus, before the Trojan war. An Athenian by birth, his first great works were a laby-rinth and temple in Crete, then under the reign of the famous MIinos; a river reservoir, and a mountain fortress in Sicily; several palaces in Saidinia; and temples of Apollo at Capua and Cannse in Southern Italy. Their names indicate that E,gyptian ideas, to a considerable extent, prevailed. The next stage is the introduction of the colunnar orders. To this age belongs the Panhellenicon, on the island of Egina, and the early Ionic temple of DI)iana at Ephesus; the first two orders appearing together. The era of these finished architects is about the first Olynmpiad or B. C. 776. The era of discussion as to the orders is the next advance. Vitruvius mentions Pytheus, who contended that the Doric column was not adapted to sacred edifices, "because deceptions and inconsistent proportions are executed in this order." Greek arclhitects generally agreed that the Ionic should be employed only i altos, where its face alone was seen; though it was also used in full porticoes. The culmninating era of the Doric at the rebuilding of Athens about B. C. 450, was the climactic era of Grecian architecture. Phidias was general superintendent, Ictinus and Callicrates chief architects, when, about B. C. 438, the Parthenon, the peerless master-work, was finished. The introduction of the Corinthian order, in the age succeeding Phidias, by Callimachus, a comprehensive genius in art, marks the final stage of the history of Grecian architecture. Though favorite in the provinces, Greece proper, especially Athens, was slow to admit the Corinthian. It was not until about B. C. 175, that the temple of Jupiter Olympus on the plain under the Acropolis was erected after the Corinthian order; while the Choiagic Monument, so exquisite a gemn of the same style, was of a still later date. The celebrated Temple of Diana, at Ephesus, embod(lied the history of Grecian architecture. The first rude edifice was Asiatic in style. The second, begun about 776 B. C., was four hundred and twenty-five feet long, and two hundred and twenty feet broad; its peripteral portico embraced one hundred and twenty-seven 224 RPOMAN ARCIIITECTURE; SPACIOUS, EI,EGANT. 225 columns sixtv f(,et high, each composed of one block of Parian imarble with Ionic capitals; and the whole exterior was enriched with the mlost costly decorationis. When burned by the wretch Hero.stratus, Alexander, on his ]Easte rn expedition, directed I)inocrates to rebltild it with more than its foirmer magnificence. Restored and made the treasure-hlouse of the geiiis of iart left by such sculptors as Praxiteles and Scopas, and of such painters as P'arrliasius and Apelles, it continued even for ages after the Cliristian era, one of the glories of the world. CHIAPTER IV. ROMAN ARCIIITECTURE; CIIARACTERIZED BY STATELINESS IN DI1MENSIONS AND PROFUSE ELEGANCE IN ORNAMENTATION. TuE Greeks were ideal the Romans eminently practical. In 'cipture, therefore, the Romans never approached the Greeks. I, architecture, whose end is utility, the Romans originated new I)i-iticil)les, invented new styles and employed new methods. Thle Roman architects aimed at elaborated strength; not the i~iere massiveness of the Egyptians. HIlence among their earliest as well as latest triumphs in architecture, were military construetio)ns such as bridges and aqueducts. WNhen the age for added refinement came, their effort at finish showed itself in what Cicero calls "a manly and robust ornament." It added to the light grace of the Grecian columnar capitals greater stlien cgth to sustain a heavier superincumibent weight leading naturally to an excess of ornament. This departure from the clhasteness of "learned Greece," who gave rules "when to repress and when indulge our flights," led to the style called in the Latin, "elegant." These two characteristics, strength and elegance, and their application by the Romans to different classes of structures reared in their own city and in other clinies, through succeeding ages of culture and of decline, hint a natural division of the subject of Romian architecture. K* ART CRITICISM. SECT. 1. TJlEl INTRODUCTION OF CURVED T,TLINES IN GROUNIDPLOT AND ELEVATION, GIVING BREADTH AND STATELINESS TO ROMAN ARCHITECTURE. In sculpture the Greeks perfected the beauty of the curved line; while in their rectangular temple fronts they gave such mathematical nicety to straight-line combinations, that Cicero said these could not be imuproved in heaven itself. The Romans first employed curved lines, not simply as had the Egyptians and Greeks in the ornaments of capitals and cornices, but also in the groundplot and elevation of edifices. The two ends sought were spaciousness and elegance. Nearly all the architectural works of the Greeks were temples; and these had a rectangle for a base. The Pantheon, and the tomb of MIarcellus, now the Castle of St. Angelo, still standing at Ronme, are specimens of a compalIete circle as a groundl)lot; the Coliseum, the mnost majestic pile in the world, has an entire and perfect ellipse as its base; while many of the smaller Roiioain temples are circular, and most of their theatres have a half circle or half ellipse as their ground-outline. The Egyptians even under a flat roof and straight lintel, secured breadth of hall and door-way by the immense length of the overlapping stones which they raised and laid across their side-walls. The Greeks used a sloping roof as a water shed, giving its pitch for beauty's sake the slightest slant possible; occasioning thus, however, an almost direct outward thrust, to overcome which without outside props they built up inner supporting walls, whose intervention allowed a limited breadth of interior. The Romans wished broad gate and door-ways, and lofty spreading roof-elevation, without the clumsy Egyptian method of securing the former, and vastly beyond any invented power to attain the latter; and they dared to use, if they did not invent, the circular arch, by which the former end was accomplished, and the dome by which, for all the world and for all time, the latter aim was realized. The Brahmins of India knew the principle of the circular iarch; antid understanding the law of its constantly pressing and dislocating lateral thruist, they embodied their objection to its use in larger edifices in the maxima, "the arch never sleeps." 11 the so-called aelhes used by the ancient and modern Asiatics, as in pagodas. are 226 CIRCULAR STRUCTRES; TFHE ARCIH AND DOME. 227 built after the plan of a boy's cob-house; by pinning beam after bealn in layers above each other. In the circular arch, curved into a'half-cvlinder, each course of stone rising firom the foundation has the outer rim higher than the inner, the upper and lower faces of its blocks lying in planes cutting the axis of the cylinder; and when the keystone is fitted into the apex the several tiers are sustained by their own pressure against each other. In the dome, again, curved into a hemisphere, while the upper and lower faces of each course of stones conform to the law of the arch, the side faces lie in planes cutting the axis of the hemisphere at its zenith. perpendicular to its base, each course of stones being supported by the pressure of its faces on each other. As there is in the arch and dome both a downward and outward pressure, there must ht)e in its foundation, both a mass and disposition of material, which shall secure a perpendicular support and a lateral bracing adequate to serve as a counterpoise to the crush and the thrust. The very earliest great architectural works of the Romans show their thorough and practical understanding, both of the nice theory, and of the nicer execution essential to this end. SECT. 2. AIODIFICATIONS OF THE GREEK COLUMNAR ORDERS; GIV ING INCREASED PROFUSION OF ELEGANT ORNAMENTATION TO ROMAN EDIFICES. The plain walls of a rectangular building have a chaste beauty requiring no ornamentation. The walls of a towering circular edifice, however, require the relief of projecting pilasters or columns; as is seen in the elaborately ornamented Coliseum. The Roman architects resorted to two modifications of the Grecian styles; the use of pilasters or half columns merely projecting from the exterior wall, instead of complete columns standing out as supports of a portico at some distance from that wall; and the employ in their elevations of successive stories having columns of different orders. The first of these modifications affecting the styles of Greek architecture arose from the fact that a dome-roof must rest directly on the side walls of the edifice and cannot project beyond them so as to cover a portico; while pilasters or half columns, built into the wall, require only a slightly projecting cornice. To g Ye prominence to the entrance, a purely Grecian portico with ART CRITICISM. columns, entablature and pedimnent, was projected in front of a circular edifice, as in the Pantheon. In smaller edifices, likle tlhe shrine of Vesta at Rome, the light roof of wood, pro(jecting over the wall, formed a rotunda, sustained by a circlet of delicate Corinthian columns. Behind these columns, both in the Grecian portico and the Roilan rotunda, instead of a second row of columns, correspondina pilasters were fastened upon the circular wall. Carrying this idea still farther, the walls of rectangular buildings were ornamented with false pilasters; imere flat slabs carved with the flutes, the cap and the base of a column fastened to the plain straight wall in place of the rounded half columnn projected from the circular wall; as is seen constantly illustrated in every modern European and American city. The second modification affected the or(ldeis of Grecian columnar architecture. The Grecian temple had only one story, its columns rising to the eaves. The greater elevation of the Roman edifice demanded different stories, each with its own columnar decorations. Grecian taste, revived under 3I. Angelo, might have taught that the same order of columns should be employed in each story. The Romans, with a less chastened love of simplicity, used different orders of columns at different elevations; and since the three Grecian orders did not furnish the variety their method demanded, they invented two additional ones. The Tuscan order was nothing else than an improved gate-post of the carpenter, boxed and capl)ped. Vitruvius fixed as its height seven diamieters; the taper of the shaft one-fourth of its diameter; the base in two parts, the lower one-half the diameter of the shaft in height; the capital of the same height as the base. The plainness of the Tuscan has made it in modern Roman basement stories, and in Romanesque buildings, the chosen order. The Doric, used by the Romans in arcades allowing only a half column, for uniformity with the other orders had a base. The Ionic, made stouter than the Grecian, having at its corners, firont and side, curls clustered and projected diagonally, was used sometimes in porticoes, but generally in elevations between the Doric and Corinthian. In the Corinthian, in order that the capital might seem adequate to the heavier weight imposed upon it, the Romnans entwined with the Greek leaf decoration strong spike-shaped hornrs. They also retained a fifth order, the composite; whose capital unites to the 228 VARIETY IN ROMAN ARCHITECTURE. volutes of the Ionic the foliate decorations of the Corinthian. In the Coliseumn the lower stage is DI)oric, the second Ionic, the third Corinthian, the fourth Conl)ositc. In tile fac.ade of one of the older college edifices at Oxford, England, the five orders, with the Tuscan below, are presented together. SECT. 3. VARIED CLASSES OF BUILDINGS AND MIODES OF STRUCTURE REQUIRED BY TIIE CIRCUMISTANCES, CIhARACTER AND HABITS OF TIlE ROIMAN PEOPLE. The climate of Rome, more inclement than that of Grecian cities, required walls and roofs more enclosed. The Roman Forum had arcades with closely-clustered columns, requiring a modification of its model in the Greek agora. The Roman baths, with their broad archlied chambers, required by their climate, were a field for architecttiral adaptations unknown in Greece. The peculiar relations socially of the Roman patricians to the plebeians called for the basilica; at first a hall in the mnansion of the patrician, then a separate edifice. It usually consisted of a central hall two stories high, with wings one story in height, giving doubl e area for the audience room. A row of short strong columns, not obstructing the view and hearing of the auditory, sustained arches in the central wall. In firont was a Grecian portico. The basilica thus constructed has become the chosen model for Christian audience-rooms. The Roman theatre and amphitheatre, of immense area, and necessarily uncovered, except by small awnings, are, in their vast proportions, monuments of the grandeur of the Roman conception of architectural proportions. MIany of the Roman temples were of Grecian type, though more adorned; as is seen in their remains along the Romnan Forum. Others were of circular form; as the temple of Vesta on the Tiber, twelve feet only in diameter, with striaight wooden rafters; and the Pantheon spanned by that wonder of the world, a dome one hundred and thirty-two feet across at its base. 20 229 ART CRITICISM. SECT. 4. HISTORY OF ROMNIAN ARCIIITECTURE; THE CURVILINEAR ETRUSCAN UINDER THIE KINGS; TIIE RECTANGULAR AND COLUM FAR GRECIAN UNDER THE REPUBLIC AND EARLIER EMPERORS; AND THE ADAPTATION OF BOTH THESE UNDER TIlE CHRISTIAN IMPERORS, TO -NEW RELIGIOUS USES. Three periods in the history of architecture at Rome corresplond co the three great eras in her political history. The first is the Etruscan age covering the age of the Roman kings; having the Greco-Asiatic type of the primitive Romians. The second is the Grecian age beginning under the Republic, and culminating under the first emperor, the era of Greek columnar ornamentation. The third began with Christian civilization, giving a Roman cast to church architecture. The Etruscans, comiing fiom Western Asia to Northern Italy about B. C. 1900, brought in mingled Asiatic and Grecian ideas in sculpture and architecture. Their tombs were circular and arched above; one at Aulci being two hundred and fortya feet in diameter and one hundred and twenty feet in height. Their temples were, as Vitriuvius states, of two kinds, circular and rectangular. The rock-hewn aimphlithleatre of Sutri, in form an ellipse of slight eccentricitv.y, has as its diameters two hundred and ninety-five and two hundred and sixty-five feet. At the founding of Rome, B. C. 753, the Etruscan builders were emiployed as architects. The Cloaca IIaxima or great sewer, executed as early as B. C. 616, extending as a drain fi'oi the Formiui, or market, to the river Tiber, is fourteen feet in diameter and seven feet in height. The arch is double; the rows of stones about five feet long and three and a half feet in thickness, though laid without cenent, having retained their place for two thousand five hundred years. The Capitol, dedicated about B. C. 507, and the Pantheon, with an exterior diameter of one hundred and forty-four feet, and a dome one hundred and thirty-two feet in breadth and elevation, resting on walls six feet thick, werie built about the close of the age of the Roiman kings. The republic, Grecian in its idea, and having the laws of Solon as its code, invited Grecian taste in architecture. As early as B. C. 500, Greek artists were employed at Rome; and Grecian culture, growing in the best days of the repCJblic, culminated 230 HISTORY OF ROMfAN ARCHITECTURE. under the first emperor, AugustuLs, about B. C. 31. A few years later the theatre of' )Iircellus was built, the portico of the PanthlCeoI was added, and seveial of the rectaingular temples, whose noble columns now stand along the old Forum, were reared; works whose relies justify the boast of the first emperor, "That he had found the city built of bricek, and he left it built of marble." The Coliseum, built under Vespasian, the Arch of Titus, the Basilica and Column of Trajaii, Iladrian's temple of Jupiter Olymipus, the Arch of Septimiius Severus, the Baths of Caracalla, and finally the Basilica of Mlaxentius, followingl each other, down to A. D. 30C), indicate the sway of Grecian taste under the emperors. The noblest of these was the Coliseuim, an elliptical amphithleatre, with its diameters six hundred and twenty, and five hundred and thirteen feet, having an exterior wall elevated to the height of one hundred and fifty-seven feet, adoirned with four stages of pilasters, with seats sll)ported by arcades, sloping, downward fi'oii the wall's giddy heilght to the arena in the centre, and accomlmiodating one hundred and seven thousand spectators. At the introduction of Clhristianity private houses for a tinme served as places for religious assembly. The Proian basilica was naturally the first model when structures specially designed for Christian worship were reared. When afterward the religion of Christ became the State religion, temples of the deities, the circular Pantheon and the rectangular temple of Jupiter, were devoted to Christian purposes; while also special forms adapted to the new faithl arose. SECT. 5. IN.FLUENCE OF THE RO.fAN CIVIL D)OMIINATION ON THE STYLES OF ARCHITECTURE IN THE ROMTAN PROVINCES. IlJoie had no native ideal in sculpture; but it originated masterly types in architecture to extend and transmit. Its influence on religious structures was only modifying, not originating. The Rolllman idea that every country has its own native deities, led them to build Grecian temples in Greece, and Egyptiani in Egypt. On neither of these fixed types in their native home could it do loire than add its own idea of orinament. In Arabia Petri-ea, Palestine and Syria, however, true RItoman ideas are met. The Roman method permitted Doric and Corinthian p)ilasters, surmounted by either the Egyptian abacus and 2.31 ART CRITICISM. pyramid, or the Roman arch. At Jerusalem the golden gateway with its circular arch and Corinthian pilasters, the tonmbs with Ionic pilasters and I)agoda-slhap)ed dolmes, were executed bhy Romnan artists between the times of the Jewish Herod and of thle Emperor Hadrian. At Baalbeck the long range of Corinthian columns standing on old Asiatic foundations, reveal even in the rudest engravirng, the influence of' the Romian colony, planted by Julius Caesar and fostered by the Antonines. While in Afiica Romnan influence in architecture was modifying, and in Asia controlling, in Northern Europe it was originating. In Spain, France, Germany and England, the Romian arch and pilaster still rule in every class of structures. CHAPTER V. SACRED ARCHITECTURE, AS CONTROLLED BY WORSHIP AND THE PRACTICAL CIIARITY OF FAITH. THE progress of Christianity, first among Asiatics, then among Greeks and Romans, strikinigly illustrated as it is by the relics of Christian literature, is equally marked by renaains of varied styles in sacred architecture. Living under the Roman civil sway, proud as some were to claim, "I am a Roman citizen," it was natural that the early Christians should in things not inconsistent with their religious principles follow Romian ideas. The two main characteristics in sacred edifices required by the Chlristian faith were already associated in Roman structures; the securing of a broad ground floor for large audiences; and the attaining of lofty elevation expressive of the exalting influence of the Christian faith. Art conceptions already prevailing in the three distinct regions where Christianity had its early seat, led to three preferred styles of Church Architecture; the Romanesque dominant in Southern Europe; the Byzantine in the East; and the Gothic in Northern and Westeru 232 TTIE SPIRITITAL TIIE CIIRISTIAN THE ROMAN-ESQUE IN CHURCH ARCHITECTURE. 233 Europe. In respect to time four eras are marked; first, the classical firom A. 1). 100 to'23, durin,g which old forms without special adaptation to new ideas, prevailed; secod(/, the Ilonianesque and Byzantine, fiom A. D. 323 to 692, during which tlhe rivalries of the Eastern and N'estern Empires stimulated a rivalry for architctural supremnacy in the two branches of the Christian church; thi,(', the Gothic, fionm A. D. 692' to 1400, beginniiing with tlhe settlemient of the Ostrogoths in Northern Italy; and fourth, the revived Grecian, commnencing with 3I. Angelo and the incomiparlable St. Peter's at Ronie. Interveiiing between the Byzantine and Gothic, the Saracenic or Iloh.liammedan sacred architecture claiiiis notice. Finally the imultif)irm stvles introduced by the Rlefolrniation in Northern and W'estern Europe close the history. SECT. 1. THE ROOMAN'ESQUE STYLE OF CHURCH ARCHITECTURE; FOUNDED ON THAT OF TIIE ROMIAN BASILICA. As the modern Greek laii uage was half a century ago called Roiiiaique, from the modifving, influence which Roiman coinquest a1(d sutcceeding Italian suprenmacy had for ages exerted upon the spoken tongue of old Greece, so the 1R1oman cast given to the first Chri.tian sanctuaries, was called in eairly Christian art Romanesque, to distinguish it from later fixed and finished styles. lIodeled after the basilica, already described, the churches of the Romianesque style, connmmon in Northern Italy, have this general form. In the earliest, built at Rome, the main roof, which in true Roman had a pitchl of 45~, took a slope of about 25~; the walls supporting the central roof had a very sli,ght elevation above the shed roof of the wings; and the exterior was perfectly unadorned. Northward the roof-slant became steeper, as in the Lonmbard, till under the Alp)s it approximated the wedge-shaped roof of the Gothic. As taste suggested, and wealth allowed, the elevation of the central portion over the side wings was increased and the unseemly obtuse angle, formed between the wall of the upper story and the roof of the wings, was filled in with a shield presentiung the form of an immense double scroll. At an early day Christian sentiment gave to the groundl)lot of tlie basilica the form of the cross. In the cross, or tree, to which the victim was nailed, the longer portion of thle post against which the body was hung, below the cross-beamn to which te aiiis were 20 ART CRITICISM. fastened. In sculptural and architectural representations, art naturally fixed a rule of' definite proportions for the length of these parts; this proportion in the groundplot of a Roman church, established by a canon in the " Apostolic Constitutions," being an equal measure for the projecting head and arms of the cross, and twice that conmmon measure for its foot. As this cross section interfered with the side wings, these were gradually diminished in width; till, lost for a time in the early Gothic, they reappeared in the flying buttresses. The figure of Noah's ark suggested the designation nave, firom Inavis, for the longer portion or body of the church, occupied by the people; the upper portion, occupied by the priests, was called the choir; and the two arms were named the transept, from the cross-hedge or screen separating them. Tertullian, in the second century, mentions superb church edifices, which, as works of art, won Greeks to the Christian fitith. Under Diocletian, a magnificent Christian sanctuary stood nigh the emperor's palace in Nicomedia, riv tling it in architectural mierit. Early in the fourth century, no less than forty church edifices at Rome claimed esteem for Christian art. The Basilica or Romianesque style had elements which made it worthy of perpetuation in Northern Italy. SECT. 2. THE BYZANTINE STYLE OF CHURCH ARCHITECTURE; HAV IXNG THE GREEK CROSS FOR ITS GROUNDPLOT, AND THE ROMAN DOME FOR ITS ELEVATION. The Romanesque or Basilica, first used in Christian sanctuaries, gave one of the two Christian ideas, breadth but not elevation. The Romnan Pantheon embodied both; and, transferred by Constantine to his new city on the Bosphorus, the dome became glorious in the church edifices of the East. The outward thrust of the hemispherical dome, met in the Pantheon by the extreme thickness and mere massiveness of the circular walls, was sustained in the Byzantine church by eight bracing walls meeting in four right angles at the intersection of the nave and transept. Greek symmetry suggested that the concentring arms of this cross thus supporting the dome should be of the same measure; the nave being made equal in length to the choir and arms of the transept. Constantine employed this style at his capital, and his m.other 234 BYZANTINE CHURCH EDIFICES. Helena in Palestine. Its noblest monuments now existing belong to the era two hundred years later. The mosque el-Aksa on the southl of the tcml)le area at Jerusalem, a structure two hundred and eighty by one hundred and ninety feet, reared and dedicated to Sophia, or Wisdom, by Justinian, about A. D. 529, preserved by the Mohammnedan conqueror of the city about A. D. 685, and consecrated as a Mohanmmedan mosque, is to this day reverenced alike by Christian and Mohammedan. The magnificent mosque of St. Sopliia at Constantinople, whose splendor led to the boast of Justinian, the builder, Aleni;e'ksa( se SA(Ilomon, "I have surpassed thee, Solomon," consecrated as a Christian church, A. ). 527, was, at the taking of Constantinople by the Turks, A. D. 1453, made a Molohammedan mosque. The length of each section of the cross is two hundred and sixty-nine feet, the breadth one hutdred and forty-three feet, the diameter of the dome one hundred and fifteen feet, and its apex one hundred and eighty feet above the floor. The edifice is of brick, the inside walls are ceiled with marble, and the floor is inlaid with variegated marble tesserse. Around the walls runs a gallery supported by forty colunmns, eilght of white porphyry firom the Temple of the Sun at Rome, eight others of serpentine, firom the Temple of )iaina at Ephesus, and twenty-four of Egyptian red granite. The intelior of the dome was carved and painted in the richest st, le of the times with Christian thenmes; all of which were covered with stucco by the Mlohanimedan proprietors. The Clhurch of the Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, towering over the western foot of the northern mountain ridge called Millo bv the Hel)rews, and Akra by the Greeks, covering the jutting roek called Golgotha in the Hebrew. kraioin in the Greek, caie(lri?im in Latin, and skitll in English, and also the valley where was an ancient "garden," embodies the history of the style of architecture to which it belongs. On the site thus hallowed, marked firom the age of Titus to Hadrian by the northern wall of Zion, then till Constantine by Hadrian's temple to Yenius, Helena, thie Christian empress, about one hundred and fifty years after Hadrian, reared a small chapel over the tomb, and a large Basilica on Golgotha; which existed till destroyed, A. D. 614, by Chosroes, the Persian. lRebuilt on the plan of Helena, respected by Omar at the Moharlmmedan conquest of Jerusalem, A. D). 686, they stood 235 ARPT CRITICISFM. till razed by a new invader, A. ]). 1010. -Byzantine art now triumphed over Roman, and instead of two Ronmanesque stluctures, one imilense domied structure arose, finislhed by the Ciusaders A. D). 1099; which is still standiig, about three hundred feet long, by two hundred wide, covering the entire garden, eimbracing thirteen chapels, the chief of which are over Golgotlia and the tomb. The B.yzN,IItille of the East was the preferred and controlling form with WTestern Christians at Jerusalem; who went home to rear churches of a fi' different style among, their Gothic ancestry, and amid their native mountains. SECT. 3. T1IE GOTIIIC STYI,E OF CHIURCHT ARCHITTECTURE; CITA RACTERIZED BY STEEPNESS OF ROOF WITII BRACING BUTTRESSES, AND BY POINTED SPIRES AND WIN)DOWS FOR ORNAMIENT. While the By-zantinre style was risilng in the East, the Roman Basilica, even in its Italian home, was for two causes declining. First, genius was attracted fironm Role to the new cap)ital; second, a new race of men, the Goths, independent in sentiment, resisting invasion of their own native customs and taste, but taking on a moulding influence firom olomlan cultuie, gradually developed a new type of architecture which reacted across tlle Al1)s. The elementary features and essential principles of architecture, belonging to every age and every school, have been, with exhaustive analysis, applied to the Gothic by iTT. Viollet le D)uc, the present chief architect of the French government. These elements are the walls and roof, whose strength and pitch are controllcd by climate; the doors, windows and columins, whose measurie is taken firom man, for whose convenience and to whose dimenllsions they must be adtlapted; and the sculpltured decorations of interior and exterior, whose types have been drawn fi'om the two fields of human and Divine workmanship, the geometric and arborescent. A pencil sketch may indicate how the roof, beginning with the level Egyptian has grown into the low Grecian, the mediunm Roman. the steepei Lombatrd, and finally the sharp-peaked Gothic. This latter, beginiing with the Swiss cottages of the Alps, is traced to the inclemen-t north through Switzerland, Gernmany, France and EInglarnd. The support of this steepl) roof calledl fi)r a niodification of the circular Roman arch; and the high-pointed arch, probably ujstudied at first, reached a perfection which bears the test of the, 236' GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE AND ITS HISTORY. 237 most rigid mathematical analysis. The Gothic arch is made up of two arcs of a circle, eacl having, its lower end resting, upon a side wall, while thc two upper extremities lean against each other at the apex. The downward and lateral pressure of the circular arch may be reduced to two resultants, one on each side, lying in the direction of clhords of 60" passing through the extremities of the diamneter; while that of thc Gothic arch lies in the direction of the chord of two-thirds of the arc formiing either of the two sides. T'o su.tain the Romani arch, whose outward thliust is in a line departing at an angle of C0~ outside of the wall, requires great solidity in the wall, or a strong outside bracing. The lateral thrust of the Gothic roof is less than the Roman; but its downward pressure is greater because of its great height. The much criticised suggestion of Warhbuiton, that the idea of Gothic architecture was deriv-ed firom the intertwiniiig of the boughs of forest trees forming natural archles, M[. Viollet le Duc has no) hesitation in announcing as to the interior decorations. Indeed the Gothic architects show a profound study of emhbryologic types as well as of floral, orchard and forest varicties in theii aiborcsccnt orniiaiuents. Even the cul'ves of re-entering arches called ti-efoil and ciiqfi)il seemi in their very iname to assert this anailogy. Gothic architecture never prevailed south of M)ilan; whose cathedral miingles Grecian window-caps and statues with Gothic ideas. Working nortlhward, the Gothic pervaded Switzerland, Gerimany, France and England. In England theie have been three eras in the history of Gothic. The pointed Gothic arch was an angle very acute; the pure Gothic was fixed at 60~; and the Tudor, going to an opposite extreme, used an obtuse-angled arch. Dazlloway has conipared the first with the Doric, the second with the Ionic and Corinthian, and the third with the Composite in Roiaan architecture. The earliest style was the "pointed," called in its extreme the lancet." It was the arch of a Nwindow cut under the sharp roof of a Swiss cottage. Introduced into both England and France under Stephen, the last of the Norlmans, about A. 1). 1150, it prevailed about a century. The thick side walls made the entrance senem a deep, cave-like recess. The door was very low; at each side were very narrow windows called in the Italian laitccola(, or labcet; and above the door one mnuch wider. The pinnacles, alreldy ART CRITICISM. existing in Norman architecture, were repeated in the early Gothic. The second or pure Gothic, prevailed from about A. 1). 1240 to A. 1). 1380, till the reign of Henry IV. The angle of the roof and of the arch was 60~; buttresses were projected, supporting flying buttresses; brackets were added under the cornice for relief; and pinnacles were raised above the buttresses, having niches often for statues. The walls consequently were made less thick, the doorway was higher and the entrance-way less deeply recessed; the windows had greater width; the miullions, or bars between the panes, were broad and delicately fluted like columns; and trilobe and rose windows were introduced. The columnns of the interior, also, as well as the archings, were lighter and more airy. The third style, called "obtuse" from the angle of its arch, and "florid" firom the superfluous ornament heaped upon it, began to prevail about A. D. 1380, ran into the Tudor about A. D. 1420, and held sway till A. 1). 1550. It depressed the Gothic aich and introduced projecting portals over the doors; it divided the windows by horizontal transoms, made the lmullions elaborate with carvings, and pierced their paneled hoods with tracery-work; while it divided the area of the windows into trefoils and quatefoils, and inserted in them armorial bearings. Finally, in the Tudor proper, it introduced projecting bay-windows, corresponding to the projecting portals. Along the Rhine the Cathedral of Freiburg is one of the purest specimens of a single Gothic spire; that of Strasburg has two towers, the loftiest of which is four hundred and sixty-six feet in height; and that of Cologne, finished after six centuries, is the grandest in design. The old Cathedrals of Aix la-Chapelle, of Paris and Rheimis, are most expressive of the gloomy sentiment to which this style of church architecture may be adapted. The ceiling of the Chapel of Henry the Eighth in Westminster Abbey, London is a perfect wonder of science and art; the laws of pressure in the arches by which its pendants are supported being now an inextricable puzzle. 238 THE SARACENIC, MOORISH AND ARABESQUE. 239 SECT. 4. THE SARACENIC, OR STYLE OF MOHAMMLEDAN SACRED ARCHITECTURE; HAVING THE HEBREW GROUNDPLOT AND THE BYZANTINE ELEVATION. The Saracenic style of architecture prevailing ill Western Asia, Northern Afiica, Spain and European Turkey is a striking illustration of the mingling of Hebrew and Christian ideas introduced by Mlohammned into the Koran, to coimmend his religion as the restored primitive worship of the patriarch Abraham. The first sacred structure worthy of mention erected by the followers of Mohammed was reared on the very spot where the Hebrew temple had stood, and conformed strictly to its groundplot. Its architect had on the south of that same area the Byzantine church of Justinian as a model; and only varied from it by filling up the four entering angles of the Greek cross, so as to form an octagonal edifice. The mosque has always around it the open court-yard of the Egyptian and Hebrew temple. It grafted the conical pagoda spires of India upon the Roman dome; and added tall towers, like the Chinese in form, called minarets. Into the arches of the gateways and surrounding colonnades the features of the Roman arcade were introduced; whose arches afterward assumed the pointed form like the Gothic. In the Saracenic, too, the mitre and acornshaped arches, afterward used in Gothic architecture, received their highest perfection of form. The suggestion is not without foundation that the perfected Gothic borrowed many of its features from the Saracenic between the age of Charlemagne and the close of the Crusades. In the later and more elaborately ornamented style, called "Moorish " ranges of arches of horse-shoe form are introduced into the parapets and balcony railings; sometimes merely cut in wood, sometimes also built in brick and stone. At the era of the advanced culture of the Moors in Spain, a style called "Arabesque" because of its Arab origin, grew up, which loaded the Saracenic arch with an excess of ornalmentation, illustrated in the Alhambra, and akin to the embossed work now bearing that name. ART CRITICISM. SECT. 5. T1IE REVIVED GRECIAN STYLE IN SACRED CHlRISTIAN ARCHITECTURE; HAVING THE LATIN CROSS AS ITS GROUNDPLOT, TIHE BYZANTINE DOME AS ITS ELEVATION AND TIIE PURE GRE CIAN ORDERS IN ITS COLUMINAR DECORATIONS. The pure Grecian columnar orders, first mlodified by the llomans, then successively displaced in Byzantine, Gothic and Sarl-cenlic structures, were as truly forgottein -s was Grecian art in sculpture. A series of' progressive steps led on to its revival with entiucly new applications in the St. P'eter's of il. Angelo. The icelchants of Veldice and Pisa, brrowig, fiom the East, mingled Saracenic and Byzantine elenlents and enmbodied them in sac.tred structures. St. illrlk's in Venice, begun A. D. 976, has a Byzantine groundpllot and dollme; and the Cathedral of Pisa grafts thc.se features on a Roilan Basilica. The merchants of Florence, determined to outrival both their sister cities, secured in 1294 a plan of a basilica five hundred feet long, three hundred and six feet across the tralsept, and one hundred alld fifty-three feet in elevation. Tlhrough the death of the archlitect the work failed for four generations; until a young artist, Brueiischelli, had the daring not only to attempt the work before planned, but to erect over it a domie like the Panthoii in grandeur. For months the city authorities spurned the youiing artist as a visionary; but, yielding, Biruneschelli com)leted a donie one hindied and thirty-eight feet and six inches in diameter, one hundred and thirty-three feet and three inches in height, and three hundred and eighty-seven feet in elevation. Whlen yet a child 3I. Angelo studied this work; and at seventy-two years of age he surpassed it ill St. Peter's. This domie rests on a drullm or circular wall, built on immiense piers, with concentric arches spanning the opelings below leading into the nave, choir and transept, and is braced outsi(le by abuttiug arches springing fronom the drumi to the walls. The Cathedral of Florence was scarcely filished when, in 1450, the ecclesiastical authorities at RoIlie began, as Gibbon says, "the mnost glorious structure that has ever been applied to the use of religion.'" In hlonor of St. Peter, who, firom the baptisni of Cornelius, A. D. 43, to his deatlh, A. D. 6)8S, a I)ciiod of twenty-five years, was, as Jeronie says, eminent at Rotice, the spot iiortllwest and outside of the ancient city where le was crucified was covered 240 THE REVIVED GRECIAN IN ST. PETER'S. 241 by his friends with a small oratorio. This, Constantine, A. D. 306, caused to be replaced by a basilica; wlhichl stood, occasionally renovated, for twelve hundred years. The foundations of the new church were laid A. D. 1506; eight years aftel which the original arcliitect, Brainanite, died. About A. D. 1540, lIichel Angelo, then in his seventy-second year, was called to undertake the work foioi which other artists sliiaiik. He cnlarged Bramanute's plan, adding to the transept so as to mNake the fori' a Greek cross, and giving strength to the p)ierI.s sull)pporltinithle dome, uttering the memorable declarationi, I will hang the Pantheon in the air." 31. Angelo died A. D. 1563, when the druiii was ready for the donie. Succeeding aichitects extended the nave, restoring the form of the lomaii cross. In 1626, the structure was dedicated; the circular colonnade being added forty years later. The lengthl of this immense edifice is six hundred and thirteen and a half feet; its breadth through the transept is four hundred and forty —six and a half feet. and the height of the ceiling is one hundred and fifty-two and a half feet. The exterior breadth of the doiiie is one hundred and ninety-five and a half feet; its interior one hlundred and thlirty-nine and a quarter feet; the height of its apex is four hundred and five feet, and the elevation of the top of the cross foi)ur hundred and forty-eight feet. It covers two hundred and forty thousand square feet, or about five and a half acres of ground; a village of mechanics live on its roof; and the ball accommodates eight persons. Its original cost was nearly $47,000,000; the annual expenditure for its care is about $30,000. As Byron intimates, at first "its grandeur overwhelms not;" liecause eveiy part is equally colossal, and, like Niagara, each detail Dmust be viewed alone before the whole can be appIreciated. Its tru( beauty is the feature called "Revived Grecian," the employ at eveiy stage in the exterior of the same order of columns. St. Paul's in London, built by Sir Christoplher Wren, firom A.D. 1)666 to 1696, has a length of five hundred feet, a width of two hundred and eighty-six feet, and a height to the top of the cross of four hundred and four feet. The impression of vastness is greater than in St. Peter's, siuce the interior is less obstructed by- coltiuns,. galleries and elaapels. In the P'antheon at Paris, in fcriii a ilonaian cross wvith Corinthian porticoes, the nave is three 21 L ART CRITICISM. hundred and two feet, the transept two hundred and fifty-five feet long, and the dome two hundred and sixty-eight feet high. In England and America this style has been imuch more copied in secular than in sacred edifices. SECT. 6. THE MIODIFICATIONS OF FORMf AND STYLE IN CHURCII EDIFICES SUGGESTED IN THE PROGRESS OF CHRISTIANITY. The spread of Christianity, gaining sway purely by the moral conviction it awakens, has been like the growth of a tree, by stages. The early Christians, energetic in their spiritual work, had little time or means to devote to sacred art. In the progress of Christian culture under Constantine and Chrysostoni. Justiniian and Augustine, Charlemnagne and Alcuinus, Leo and M. Angelo, the four styles of sacred architecture mentioned arose; the sIr)iit of centralization culinating in St. Peter's. The spirit of the Reformation, associated with that intense sentiment of personal independence belonging to the Germans and Anglo-Saxons, forbade the concentration of' interests and material resources in a few grand edifices. At the,aiiie time this independence has led to great variety in selection of styles for church edifices. In Switzerland the prevailing type is Gothic, often rude; the Cathedral of Geneva illustrating the early, and that of Constance the later type. The Cathedrals of Zurich and Schafflhausen are Romanesque; while at Basle, near Germany, the Cathedr,l, though Gothic in general, is without the range of classified art. In Germany basilicas are net in old cities; the Cathedrals of Vienna and Freiburg are Gothic; while in Protestant Gernmany no settled taste has yet been developed. In France, the oldest churches are Romanesque; the finest Cathedrals, as of Paris and Rheims, are Gothic; while French love of change may be traced in the Romanesque of St. Germain de PrEs, the early pointed Gothic of Notre Danie, the mediunm Gothic of St. Scverin and St. Germain l'Auixerrois, the latter florid Gothic of St. Gervais and St. 3Ierri, the revived Grecian of St. Eustache and St. Etienne du Flont; Palladio's Italian, or the Elizabethan of St. Paul et St. Louis, and the Louis Quatorze of the Val de Grace, and Hopital des Invalides. The religious spirit of the French Revolution expressed itself in the " I'Pantheon," or temple of all gods; and its speedy return under Napoleon to 242 MODERiPN CIVIL ARCHITECTUI'E. the Roiuan faitih and Grecian culture culminated in the Alade leine, unitiing tile idea of the chaste Minerva and the reformied 3 [agdalen. In Enigliand and Aminerica, the united stimulus of religious fieedon' ald of prinicely wealth, guided by general culture and religious enlig,htenimenit, has called forthi special devotion to church airchitecture. The cathedrals of England present a coimplete histoiy otf' the Gothic. Lontlon alone has the noblest Gothic in Westninster Albbey, the grandest Byzantine in St. IPaul's, and the lllOst perfeet unionl of the Grecian columinar edifice with the Gothic spire in St. Maritin's and St. Pancras'. Amierica, pre-emninently rich in its variety, furnishes in alimost every city specimens of the Basilica, Ronmanes(jue, Byzantine, Gothic, Norimai, Saxon, and even of the anll)litheatre styles. The falvorite type is a sort of lRoiman Gothic; an edifice with a gable firont, a Greciaii entrance portico, side pilasters, and a central spire while the interior, with side galleries, resembles the basilica. CHAPTER VI. SECUILAR ARCHITECTURE AS INFLUENCED BY THE SOCIAL AND INTELLECTUAL, THE CIVIL AND DOMIESTIC WVANTS INDUCED BY CHRISTIAN CIVILIZATION. WrHILE Christianity influencing mian's religious nature has led to new forms in sacred structures, its precepts, arousing to social and intellectual life, have prompted to improved secular edifices. Even under Christianity a special charmn has clustered about cas.tles and fortresses reared for defence from evil men. On the other hand, the Christian fliith, seeking to forestall evil or alleviate its consequences, has prompted special provision for the education of the young, for the relief of the suffering, and for the restraint of the vicious. Yet again, Christian truth, iiiaking civil goverlimnent a more clieislied interest of the people, has led to new adal)ptations in structures requisite for its assemblies. Finally, Christian 213 ART CRITICISM. grace, furnishing security to individual wealth, has given to private dwellings a new character for suimptuousness and arltistic iiieiit. The classes of buildings thus sug,ested imay be group(d thus: ,first, Castellated, secoi)d, Capitoline, thi(d, Conventual, and fourth, Villa and Cottage styles. SECT. 1. CASTELLATED STYLES; AS A MIODEL FOR PALATIAL RESIDENCES. The spirit of'civil independence, carried to an excess, studded Geermany, France anrid Eingland with feudal castles. As in the nfltncy of Asiatic civilization, Canaanite and Hebrew tribes under petty dukes and chiefs crowned the hill-tops east of the Atediteraraeana with rude fortresses whose character is still a study, so tlhe early history of Northein Europe has left its moinuiernts on the " castled ciags," of the Rhine, and along the cliffs of En,lish and Scotch Highlands. These castles belong to civil architecture, since, when inadequate as miilitary defences, they becaine palatial residences. Reared by Gerimani and Saxon nobles, their walls were built of coarse stone, with a Roman circular arch over the gateways and loop-hole windows. Dalloway ascribes the iinproveiiient of architecturec in England to "the seculrity of edifices for re'li/iO-ts purposes, anil the iiisecur/it./i of structures for social uses," and divides its pr()gres into three distinct eras; the first froiiio Egbhert to Alf'ed, A. D. 598 to 872; the second firom Alfired to Canute and lIarold, A. D). 10.36; and the third to the Norman conquest, A. D. 1066. The Saxon iimproveinents were chiefly Roiiian pilasters at the si(les and tqouian archles over the heads of gates and windows. The Norinans mnade the arches over gateways and windows of broad, semii-elliptical form, and crowned the wall with a battlemnent. In these, as in the Saxon iniprovements, there were three stag,es; first, fron W,illiam the Conqueror to Stephen, A. D. 1050 to 1154; second, fir'om Edward I. and II., A. D. 1272 to 1327; and third. froni Edward III., A. D. 1327 to 1377. The Noriniatn castles in the first age were either square and elevated, or circular and low; and as improved beyond the Saxon by Edward I. during the Crusades, they had comnplete columns for Roman pilasters, more ornamented capitals and arclhes, sculptured panels in the walls, towers and battlements projecting over the walls, and ceilings '-" 4 4 EXGLISHf CASTELLATED ARCIIITECTURPF. vaulted instead of flat. The Norman differed fioni the Gothic in ht-vit)g no exterior pedinients or pinnacles, and no interior ribs or fietwork on the ceiling. The foul castles in Wales erected by EIdwarid I., including Caernarvon, Conway and Harlech, remnain as monumenrts of this style. The Norman impronvements of English castles prepared thlem for rc.esidences. The widened doorways and windows, the projecting corner towers and the inteiior arcade balconies, furnished facilities for a fiiiily riesidenec; the tower of I,ondon becolming the court residence of' tle Noirmian kings, fiom A. 1). 1066 to 1135. Unider the Plantagenets, fioni Henry If., A. D). 1154, to Ilichald III., A. D). 1483, the Noinmian inim)iovemifel(nts comsisted of an enilairgemetit an(l adornment of the Saxon structure. Under Edivwarid I. exterior chlinces b)etter adal)tino castles firl defence, and under Edward Ill., about A. D). 1.3.50(), most important interior arrangemieiits fitting them foi- sumptuous abodes, were miade. The extensioni of the outer finrtress-walls enlarged the inner coUr't; large Gothic windows, niade double or treble, to give increased light and air, opened fi'om hith-vaulted halls into the court; and projecting galleries and corridors with aircaide arches afforded an open pirollena(le alud an airy lounge. The castles of WAindsor, Kenilworth and Altiwick belong to this aoe. 'The tceession of the Tudors under IHenry III., A. I). 14S5, oririnlted the style, haviiig three eras, called the "Tudol proper" of THeinr VII., the " perfec(ted Tuidoir" of Heniiry VIII., and the "Elizaletlhai;" to which, after Elizabeth, was add(led the " Louis Qunatoize." Introduced ibout 14;50 in Nortlheri France )by the D)uke of Burirun(l, later ilto England, the Tudor prevailed for two centuries. It aimed to furnish halls spatcious and with high ceilingst, while it added an exterior l)!.';,l l and elevation that should be in harimony. It added to the exterior smaiiill octagonal towers with miitre-shlaped cupolas, slirted underneath with firinges of rich crotchets borrowed fioni Saracenic mlinarets; also inteivenlling tuiliets til)pled with sl)ii'es an,d gilded vanes, copied fio'il tlhe p-ilited Gothic; and finally;)ay or aingle windows, serving as invitilig side 1ok-oOuts and reliefs to the blank castle wal. ]tichiloiod, in Sturiey, bulilt uiiler Ilenry VII., illustraltes this style. Ifenry VlIII., breaking off, A. D. 1509, firom thle PRoman Church and excluding foreign artists, invited the genius of the Eastern 21 . 4 5 ART CRITICISM. Chlir'.l t,) add its ornamient.-ti:)n to the Norman Gothic. The gateway-s becalie lofty and crowned with the broad, semii-ellipticatl, ol)tuse-)oillntd arch; whose directly lateral thrust foibicl.s its use except in an extended and mlissive wall. Emibossed panels, with reliefs in wood or te,i'(t coift(, were inserted in the broad doors and blank side-walls. Tile windows, increased in breadth and height, were relieved by a dividing transonm, and a miniature battlement called "crenellated." The chimuneys were clustered, raised to the height of toweis, and ornamented with an embattled cornice; and a notched parapet ran above the wall. After Henry VIII., HIlolbein, the painter, and Inigo Jones. the architect, restored Italian culture and classic forms, especially in architecture. Born in 1572, Jones studied his art in Italy, brought home in 1613 Palladio's new treatise on architecture, and, till his death in 1652, fostered the taste for that ningled Grecian and Gothic, Roman and Tudor style, called "Elizabethan;" which, beguii when the Englishl nobles under Henry VIII. returned, rich in treasure and in new ideas, firoom their conquests in Northern France, was stimulated by the genius of such men as Shakespeare and Raleig,h. and prevailed, including the reign of Elizabeth from 1558 to 1603, imore than a celntulry. The castles of the "perfected Tudor" style had grand halls, with high pitched rafters of unpainted oak and chestnut, supported by brackets; at the end opening into the court large bay-windows adorned with armorial bearings; and on its sides wide galleries, having broad cornices lined with oak, and adorned with carved tablets, scrolls, escutcheons and grotesque figures in high relief. The Elizabethan introduced inside classic or grotesque figures, rectangular for curved and scroll panels, and outside, Roiiian porticoes with classic columns; leaving, however, many Gothic features. In the "Louis Quatorze," prevailing in his reign, A. D). 1643 to 1715, the classic superseded the Gothic, introducing a basement truly I)loman, with circular arches and square pilasters; a main st,ry. with Roiaan poriticoes, pediments, corridors and coluiiins; a,Tillin- the scroll-work of the Tudor, somletime(s the l)ii.nacles of the Gothic, and as a crowningr feature the double-slope roof, now gracefully curved, of the French architect, Manisard. It was an easy transition firom this style to the classic RomaIn-Grecian 246 AMERICAN- CAPITOLINE ARCHITECTURE. p)revailing in France, England and America. In London this history may be traced in the Gothic of Guildhall, the plain Gothic withl Tudor battlements of Westminster Hall, the Tudor of St. James' Palace, the Ronlan Ionic and Corintliiin of the Treasury and'lhitehlall, and the almiost pure Grecian of Cumberland Terrace and 13uckinglami Palace. While palattial edifices in Western Europe were thus modified, those of Italy at Genoa, lisa, Florence and Venice retained the Romian arcade style; sometimes modified by Saracenic traccerywork. The Palace of the Grand )uke at Florence, built by Arnolfo in 129S, and the Farnese Palace at Rolne, by M. Angelo, are true IlRoman. As a specimen of the influence of Saracenic taste, grafted upon a Roman foundation, the Palazzo del Cotmmune, built at Piacenza, about A. D). 12Si1, has Saracenic corridors with arelhes of oval horse-shoe form. SECT. 2. CAPITOLINE STYLES FOR STATE-HOUSES AND HALLS OF LEGISLATION. In monarchical and aristocratic governments, castles or palaces are the natural residences of hereditary rulers. In representative governmients edifices accommodating large deliberative assemblies nmust be provided. Halls designed for speakers occuIpying every portion of an audience-room must differ in construction from churches and theatres in which the speakers occupy one position. At Athens the people met in the basin west of Mars-hill; at Rome the coimftia assembled in the Forum or Campus Martius; always in the open air. In France, Germany and England, covered halls for even popular gatherings have been sought. The old Palais de Justice at Paris was Elizabethan in style; the present Palais du Corps Legislatif, under Republican influence, has a Grecian facade. In England the popular element reared Westniinster tall, two hundred and seventy feet long, seventy-four wide, and ninety high, now Tudor in its facade; in which Richard II. feasted ten thousand guests, and where the early Parliaments of ]lngln nimet. In comparatively recent times the goigeous new Parliamieniit Houses have been elaborated in the miost florid Gothic style. Ins the North American Republic, made up of many States, a style of public buildings has arisen properly designated CapitoliiLe. 247 ART CRITICISM. As at Rome the names "Capitol" or head and "State-Hiouse," are significant. A few States, as Viigiiiiat, have selected the Grecian temple, the model apparentl of the Plo)ian Capitol, as alluded to by Cicero; but gcneially the Rouian basilica, crowned with a dome and adorned with a Grecian entrance, has been preferred. The National Capitol at Washlington, D. C., first built by B. 11. Latrobe of Baltimore, but reconstructed by T. U. W1alter of Plhiladelphia, was originally three hundred and fifty-two feet and four inches long, one hundred and twenty-one feet. and six inches broad, with a dome ninety-six feet in diamieter and oue hundrcd and fort,yfive feet high. It is now seven hundred and fifty-one feet and four inches in length, three hundred and twenty-four fect in extreme breadth, covering one hundred and fifty-thrie thousand one hundied and twelve square feet; the sumiiiit of the doiiie above the paveinient being two hundred and eighty seven feet and five inches. Its l)asement is Romnan, its porticoes the purest Grecian Corinthian, its dome Byzantine, and its exterior coluninar ornamentation the revived Grecian of M. Angelo. IJ the old interior the columns are Doric in the basement, and Ionic in the second stage; but in the new portions the columns within, as without, are pure Corinthian. The artist, in true adherence to the Greek's idea, has allowed each sister State to twine her own favorites, leaf and flower, about the clustered capitals. SECT. 3. CONVENTUAL, INCLUDING COLLEGE, IIOTEL, HIOSPITAL AND PRISON STYLES; DESIGNED AS CONGREGATED HOIMES FOR TIlE EDUCATION OF YOUTH, TIlE ACCOMIMODATION OF TRAVELEIIS, TIIE CARE OF THE INFIRM AND TIHE RESTRAINT OF THE VICIOUS. While men devoted to the defence and regulation of society congregate in castles and palaces, the young, the traveler, the sick, the vicious, are gathered in colleges, hotels, hospitals and prisons. Under the early influence of Christianity the name "Coneventual was given to the style of architecture appropriate to buildings designed to supply these ends; convents being the chief schools, inns and hospitals. The Hebrew,'Mohanmmedan and probably Egyp)tian colleg,es were gathered in rooms clustered under colonnades surroun(lilg the inner courtyard of tenmples and mosques; after which the 248 HOSPITAT,S, HOTELS AND PRITSONS. cloisters of ancient Christian churches were modeled. Aiiong- the ancient Gieeks, Socrates lhad no school buildling; P'lato was favored to use the groves and porticocs of the counItly-seat of Acadeinus; Aristotle was a I)eii)tetic in the fields, or soiught shelter when neces-ary in the teml)le of Lyce-an Apollo; while the Stoic Zeno loitered under the sto(i or porticoes of the Agora. The later Greci.in sehools at Athens, P'ergamios, Tarsus and Alexandria, seem to litve gathered in roo1ms connected with temiples; while the oionans had Grecian teachers and temiples. In Christian lands convents became early the seats of learning. In the East these are castle-like structures, with hilgh, blank luna,loi'ned exterior walls, and a large open court and gariden within. In later days they became plain brick edifices, providing in the silillplet foirm the needed rooiims. In the revival of art, college structures in Europe becamie imore elaborate, taking( the characteristics of the early Saxon, Rioman, pointed Gothic, Noriiiian, Tudor, or revived Greeian; the castellated style seceming miost aplp)ropriate. Ilotels designed for travelers or associated faimilies, naturally taking the formn of a hollow square, were, in early ages, like convents mere castles with plain walls. As leading ornamenrts of miodern towns, hotels have usually a P-omnan basement. with a facade varying fiom p)lain Grecian Doric to exuberant Louis Quatorze. Hospitals proper, for the diseased, the mained and wounded, yet iiiore permanent asylunms for the insane, the indigent, the disabled, deaf-miutes and blind, are specially the offslpriiig, of Christian civilization. The Greeks and RPomans had houses of entertainient called -,Yeio(doclie;a or Ho,spitula; but neither corresponded to the miodern hospital. The first hospital proper miet in history is a Christian provisioni for the poor pilgrimis of Jerusalem, erected( in Constantine's day. During the Crusades the famed Hospital at Jerusalemi was a new feature in military history. About the same time hospitals at different points grew up on the route of Christian pilgriiiis, fostered by Christian women, coiiiiiiended by Jerome; as that of Fabiola at iomen, another at Constantinople, and others in Asia Minor planted by I'aula. Yet later they are found in Northern Europe; the fainM'.'lHospices" in the passes of the Alps. being specially noteworthy. All these took the character of convents; their design requiring openness of structure and airiness of location. The plain Normian, the miore adoirnied Tudor, or, as in L 2-19 ART CPRITICISM. the hospital for invalids at Paris, the Byzantine is adapted to their object. Even prisons as architectural works are the product of Christian civilization. The ancient prison was a cell dreadful to the occupant. The prison vaults of ancient Jerusalem, the -iaicertine cave-pison at Rome, and the Black-hole at Calcutta, as compared with prison edifices in modern Christian countries, indicate how pure religion is the moving stimulus even of the spirit of' art. Not until the present century has thle idea of re,)rliS( the vicious, suggesting p(ilatces of the most adorned castellated style as penitentiaries, beguni actually to adorn cities with such structures as the E,gyptian, the Norman, the Gothic prisons, now found in Philadelphia and New York. SECT. 4. VILLA AN-D COTTAGE STYLES DESIGNED AS PRIVATE RESI DENCES, SUBURBAN RETRIEATS AND COUNTRY RESIDENCES. The miass of imankind in cities and country live in cabins and garrets; and even princely wealth canlnot in cities secure sufficient breadth for the highest architectural art in private residences. In suburban villas, wealthl and taste united find ample scope for artistic skill. Among Asiatics there are no country residences; all living in closely-walled towns on hill-tops; while for miles around no abode for mnan is seen except the shel)lleid's tent. The lhuts of the poor are without windows, and even the nmansions of the wealthy are in narrow alleys. A blalnk wall two or three stories high frces the street; a low portal leads into a cave-like passage-way; and a side door opens into a broad unroofed courtyard. The lower story is occupied by stables and servants' rooms, and for storage. On the second floor, the fanmily abode, large windows screened by lattices project into the court; over which an awning is drawn. The roof, coated with gravel-cemient, has a slight slope, furnishing a promienade in pleasant weather and a water-shed for rain. At its centre is often a "summier parlor,'' open at the sides. Grecian and PRoinan city-miansions were deeper but not wider than Asiatic. The entrance door was set back, leaving an outside vestibule. The court within called atle in Greek, etrgu)t in Latin, was covered, except a central openilng, by rooms above; whose floors were supported by lows of short coluinis. Around this couit were 250 ROMAN AND ITALIAN VIT,LAS. offices and other rooms for men; and back of it was another court sinliilalily disposed foi women. The roof gathered the raijls into a cistern in tile centre of the court; whose floor was paved in mosaic and its centre adorned with a small fountain and miniature statuary, illustrated in the descriptions of Cicero and Pliny and in unburied Ioiiipeii. Tile slant of the Grecian and Roman roofs forbade promenades on the house-top; but the security of' private property allowed suburban retreats. The German habit, however, of buildiig private houses in the country wherever a cool spring, a shady grove, or a pleasant vale invited, was unknown in Italy, and a surprise to the historian Tacitus. The P,Roians, unlike the Greeks in fondness for variety, excelled in suburban retreats; the hills about Rome for ten or twelve miles, and towns thiirty or forty miles distant, being dotted with ~illas described by Cicero, Vitruvius a(nd Pliny. These were of two classes. The villa t'}b(ioa was near the city, and modeled like a town residence except that it had side, as well as firont, balconies and porticoes. The vitlat ristic(, distant from the city, was a farm mansion; having celle(c for servants, an erlasttltt)l1 or night lockup for convicts hired out as laboirers, cellars for wine and oil, and extensive stalls for horses and other domestic animals; the details of whose grouping belong to Landscape Gardening. The modern " Italian villa" is, in groundl)lot, the old Roman; its style of archiitecture being that imingling of Romian and Gothic perfected by Palladio, called in England " Elizabethan." It has a straight roof without parapet above, but with brackets underneath, clustered chimneys and an entrance tower at one side, also arcadebalconies and bay-windows. Tlhe "French Chateau" is substantially the "Louis Quatorze," with roof of double pitch, without towers or battlements; and it is adapted to a city, as the "Italian villa" is to a suburban residence. The "Swiss cottage" has a steep projecting roof, with no exterior colonnade; and it is adapted to a hill-side. The "verandah" of India is a square house, with low roof, and a wide circling piazza; and is appropriate to a lawn hlaving a sunny exposure. The " kiosk," or Turkish summerhouse, is octagonal with mitre-shaped roof and latticed sidles; and is appropriate only as an arbor. 251 BOOK V. PAINTING; THE ADDING OF COLOR TO FORM. THus far form alone, aside fiom color, has been considered. In dralwing, light and shade require the emnploy of only white and black; in sculpture every work is of the hue of its maiterial; and in architecture, color is always secondary, generally accidental, and only occasionally artistic. Painting follows drawing, sculpture and architecture; first, because it requires an acquaintance with all other arts; and second, because to accurate execution in them all painting must add just color to form. Lionardo, said "A painter ought to be well instructed in perspective, to be a master of anatomy, and also to be a good architect;" perspective being the final attainment in drawing, and anatomy in sculpture. In order to success in landscape painting a knowledge of gardening is equally essential. In fact painting is the "art of arts;" for drawing is a part of the painter's work; and while sculpture and architecture actually makea forms, painting, wit/tout waki,lig themn, must present them to the eye. The blind man's judgmenit was just, when haviig felt first a statue, and then a painting of the same figure, he remarked, "If this flat surface looks like that round one, then this is the greater art." CHAPTER I. THE ANALYSIS AND COMPOSITION OF COLORS. NOT only the general student, but also the practical artist, is called to regard, first, the analysis and synthesis of colors in theimselves; and second, the combination of colors existing in nature. 252 EI,EMTFNTAPY AND COMPOUND COTi,OPRS. His main subsequent toil is to gain the powver of copying existing colors, and of conceiving and executing inew hules, shades and tints. SECT. 1. TIlE SIMPLE OR ELEMIENTARY COLORS. The pure rays of the suii's light are white; retaining this hlue even when reflected firom polilshed black iron. Substances reflecting none of the sun's rays, really unseen, seeml black; the color of darkness, where we see nothing. Substances between black and white in color, reflect a part only of the light. White is the coinbinattion, black the absence of all colors; their mixture is grayl; andl these three are in art called lIectl-rl, or negative colors. Fromn the earliest tinles the decomiposition of sunlight into varied colors by ipas.ing through ice or anber, and in the rainbow, was observed. The Chal(lean and Indian- philosophers counted seven distinct colors. The Greeks, Pythagoras and Aristotle, regarded color "superficial," dependent on the reflection of light; and the rainbow as "solar rays reflected by vaipor." Sir Isaac Newton's practical division of the colors of the prisiliatic spectrunm into seven-red, orange vellow, green, blue, indigo, violet —were, by Sir David Brewster, reduced to three, yellow, red and blue; experiiiients showing that all other colors are compounded of these three; which are hence called essential, or, as opposed to negative, positi'e colors. The important fact thus established, so far as painting is concerned, is, that all hues, shades and tints, in coloring~ are to be attained by admixture of the three elcent~try colors; while at the same time these three are so intermixed in iiitntre, as in the solar sp)ectrumi, that in none of his pigmients can the aitist expect to find, as he could not with truth to nature, empl-oy any pure elementary color. SECT. 2. THE ARTIFICIAL OR COMPOUND COLORS. The simplest admixture of colors, that of black and white, produces the variety of which Sir Isaac Newton remarks, "These gray and dun colors may be also produced by nlixing, whites and blacks." The history of language firom the time Ttesiod applied the term " qr(~iai" to the " fair-cheeked Greek wolmen," as well as the demands of analysis in art, require that a distin(ction be made between gray, a conmbination of simple black and white, and qrey, an admixture into which blue and its compounds enter. 22 253 ART CRITICISA. The positives, bliie. red and yellow, are found to have fixed pro portions essential to beauty in the componll)ds forinlied hby thenm; that law requiling for yellow three, for red five, and fir lue eiglit. W'ith reference to their proportionate adnmixtures, yellow, red and blue, are calle(l pr'iarnJ colors; and these proportions their equivalents. " The union of primaries in their proportions forms secondaries; the three being orange fioml red and yellow, green fronm yellow and blue, purple firom red and blue. The equivalent of each secondaiy is the sumn of the equivalents of its elements; of orange eight. of green eleven, and of purple thirteen. The adimixtuire of the secondaries in their proportiolns fornms three tertiaries; citvine fiomn green and orange, russet firon orange and purple, and olive firom purple and green. These proportionate admixtures are called p?bte coloirs. Thleir- combinations in ii1(fiiiite proportions give the (/i't?/or ii)ip?i'( colors; which, as to thieir effect in naturie, are called.seiLi ets. In the practice of the art of painting, it is important to note this order of the colors. Yellow, next to white, mnixed with it gives the faint hue straw-color; it is the ruling elemnent in the teitiary citrine, and enters largely into buff, bay, tawny, tan, dan, dun, drab, chestnut, roan, sorrel, llazel, auburn, Isabella, fawn and feuille morte. Red, the central color, is a leading element in orangoe and scarlet, in purp)le and criinmson; it controls in riusset; it enters largely into mnarione, puce. niu'rey, morello, nioldoie, pompadour; and is found also in browns. Bliie, the prillaly nearest black, regarded by Lionardo fi'on observation ais a I mixtuire of white and black, abounds in the green of the earth's coveringi; it is the ruling element in olive; and it enters largely into the semii-neutral greys, as slate and lead colors. Ainon, the secon(laries, orange, whlen inclined to red, gives scarlet, poppy, coquilicot; and when tending to yellow is gold. Green, the central secondary, ten,ling to yellow is pea-green. and to blue is bottle-green; while in every land foliage is called green from the ligoitest pop)lar to the darkest fir, fiom the greelish yellow of Italy and Mexico to the hlue-l)lack of Ireland and Greenland. Purple, th extrenei seconflary ()n the dark 4ide, when tending toward red is rose, when towaid blue is lilac or violet, and when toward black is indigo. 254 COMPLE,MENTARY AND CONTRASTED COI,ORS. 255 Among the tertiaries cltiine having most yellow, and least blue, succeeds first to the green of srunimer as autumni comies on. Pusset, the central tertiary, follows citime in autumn tints. Olive, the darkest of the tertiaries, prevails in foliag(e designuated as greenish, in sky characterized as greyish, and in earth styled ashen. Thle semii-neutrals, into which black enters, are of three classes brown, imaroon, and grey. Brown, an indefinite class of colors in which yellow predominates, including yellow-browns, redbrowns, orange-bro\wns, purple-browns, but no blue-browns, emlbraces, also, dun, hazel and auburn. Marrone, or imaroon, includinig a class of ilmpure colors in which the red predominates. derives its iname firom the color of the wine of ancient AIaronea, resenibling claret. and is applied to the copper-colored mixed breeds of Central Aimerica. Grey embraces a class of inlpure colors iln which blue pire(ldominates; including blue, olive, green, purple, but no yellown or red greys a distinction of special importance in stud(lying tl-he grey tints of cloud, earth and water. Bliack, in admixture with colors, does not alter the hue; it only deepens the shlade. No painter in ancient or modern times has p)assed beyond the rudiments of his art without knowledge of, a-d careful attention to -this analysis of p)igments and of the law of their harmonliolus ndmixtitires. The knowle(ldge of the Greekls, wllo so excelled it) this art at his day, is thus alluded to by Aristotle: " The lnaliy otlher colors besides white and black are lmultiplied in inuiber by proportionate admixtures; for they can be formied by uniting thelm to,gether in the ratio of two to three, of three to four, and of other nuimbers. Other colors, however, are formned by admixture without ratio; having a disproportionate amount of sonie and an abl)sence of other elements." No one can successfully trace the history of painting, firomt the glaring yellow, crimson and blue of the ancient E,gyptians, till the consummation of the art of coloring iL thle mellow tints of Raphael and Guido, without a careful preliiniiiary study of the analysis of colors. SECT. 3. COM[PLEMIENTARY AND CONTRASTED COLORS. Colors in proportionate adnmixture, by their very nami-e, "pure,' indicate that man's nature is formed to prefer themi. Ariistotle ART CRTTCIS,tf. observes, "the colors most accurately proportionate in their admiixture. as purple and lighlt-redl, re the iimost delightfil colors."' That we are equally made to plrefer coin)leclentaI-y and contrasted colors is seen in the variety sought in dress aniong all mankind; and in the hues of sky, cloud, earth, foliage, flowers, insects, birds and animals ordained by the Creator. The co?v)7ileneit of a color is that which it lacks of being pure white; the comiplemient of yellow being a duTe prop)ortion of red ant blue; the complemient of orange a due proportion of green and ,purple. The study of complementary colors in its lower appl)lic(ations has a relation to scenic and decorative painting; but its p)rofoundest analysis has been sought in tlhe (obelinii tap)estry works at IPairis as well as by the ablest artists in different ages. That we are made for this law of colip)leInentary colors, nature witlhout and within us both attest,. The blue sky is so cornpen.. sated by the complemientary yellow and red on the earth, that few blue flowers, and those chiefly poisonous, tare foun(ld; while tlhe glowing crimson of the evenin, sunset in the \West is set off by a greenish grey in the East. If,,again, the eye has been fixed on a red wafer, when sudd(enly turned to a white page it sees a circular sp)ot of a bluish-green color, the coml)lement of the red; the health of the organs of vision, as well as the demands of our intellectual nature, requiring compensation in colors. Colors in coiitr(ist, when their differenecs are not precisely cornplementary, are pleasing; the principl)e of coinl)cnsitioti, llhow(ver, both in nature and art, being the foundation of the Ilcasull-e thence derived. The purple flower has generally a centre of yellow, the purple incelining to blue or red as the yellow tends to orange or green; while in the few flowers that are blue, the centre is orange. Green, as central, is in accord with almnost all the colors of nature; while citrine the first, and russet the second tint of autumn, following green, keep up tl-he contrasts making the harinonies of nature. SECT. 4. TIIE DISTINCTION BETWEEN HUES AND TINTS; AND TIIE NATURE AND LAWS OF TONE AND OF HARMONY IN COLORINfI. In nature there is no miarked line separating betweeioc colors, COmnl)lenentary or contiasted. In the rainbow one color shaldcs off iniperceptibly) into another, andl sunset reflections from sky, cloud, earth and water, are so thrown ulon each,, her in the glow of 2.56 HIUES AND TINTS, TONE AND HARiMONY. 257 eveninig twilight that language lacks words by which to depict their variecd and ever-clh.iiting aspects. The ternis shades, hlues and tints, indicate variations in the coloring of single objects; and tone, expression, halrimony characterize special effects of coloring, as a whole. The word hue designates the proportion of any one color entering ijto an admixture; shacle the deogree of darkness or light given to that color; and tint the overlaying of a foreiogn hue thlrown upon the pliincipal color. The color blue has as its slhades, dairk, iediuni and light; as its hues, inligo, violet and azure; while we speak of the iosy tint of imorning, tile p)urple tint of evening, alnd the brown tint of auttiuin cast on the distant blue hills. Shaide is v~nied by- adTding bleack or white to the princi)al celoi; hue by inciilsi!ig the proportion of any one of the eleientair colors; while tints are lIid upl)on hlues alre y executed, by.rapi(l iaud light touchles of the artist's biuah tiiioned with a contrasted color. Thte terms tolle and 1t1 arlo)? s as pplied to pI)aintin(, are borrowed fioiii the kindred art of iiiusic. Tone exl)iCsses, literallv used, the adal)tation of sound to sentimient; as whlcn we say of a piece of music, "Its tone is graN-e, and it should be pelfoimed in a subdued tone of voice." Physicians, usiniig the term fiiguraitivelv, speak of "the tone of the vital organs." Rlapliael 31en,s, to illustir.ate its use in painting, alludes to the connnon statement that the Italian artists, using the wairm colors yellow and red, the Gelnlalns cold blue and black, Caravaggio sober grey and brown, acld Rubens gorgeous orange rose and purl)le, lhave respectively a livnely, severe, gay anrd soiiibre "tone." ltuskini eilbraces llirinony in tone; making it consist in " the just relation of the shca(ligq of all the parts to the chief figure," anrd " the just colo)i.q of the lights anZ shadows in their relation to each other." While tone relates to the Esthetic impressionl made by a picture taken as a whole, " lharmony" relates properly to the aritistic relation of the )airts to each other, sep)airately regarided. 3Iengs, treating at lengthl uipon harmtiony as he does upon tone, says Tille rtist will (-)bse-rve that by harniony we desi,gnite what tle Itali.ans. call acc)1(I. As accord or harmony iIn mlusic producee, an i?reeable effect on the auditory inerves, so does harnloniy in paiiiting on the op1tic nerves." As to the method of seurcilig haiiiiony, hle says, "The ligliter colors have iiiore effect, because 2 2 A RT CRITICTSM.. they l,roduce quickler vibrations upon the organs of vision." "The purest and miost glaring colors, as possessing more strength than the pale ones, must be used in principal figures. The use of either white or black has a tendency to subdue and diminish the power of the pure or primary colors; while the latter also darkens all these colors." Remibrandt secured the finest gradation and thus hlarlmony, by simple black; and Boccacio by pure white; the effect being kindred to that produced in music by a single instrunment as the violin, or one voice ill a solo. Even in interior views, hues are varied without, end by in-door and out-door lighlts, by bright sunshine and dense clouds; as well as by the reflected tints. of miorni,ng and evening,, of daylight and twilight. When any one of these myriad phases of light is chosen )by the artist, he must retain the recollection of each separiate hue and tint belonging to that selected momnent, and preserve each variety throughout his entire work; for thus alone can hanliony be attained. It is in landscape, however, that the principles of harmony have their special application. Ruskin thinks that the chief sup)eriority of modelrn over ancient painters is their attaining the two requisites of tone described by himl. His numerous suggestions as to the method of executing the varied shadings of refiracting and reflecting media, his nice discriminations between the hues, tints and shades of light as they streami thirough clouds, glance firom water, and rest on the soil, his pencil-tracings of outlines in foliage, cloud, and even of granite boulders, group themselves under the top)ics here considered. CHAPTER II. GENERAL PRINCIPLES AS TO THIE EMPLOY OF COLORS IN PAINTING. As in drawing. so in painting, the pupil proceeds fioiom. the simpler to the more abstruse principles of his art. Amiong the higher aims in coloring are the securing of special msthetie effects 258 MFINUTE STUDY OF COLORS IN NATURTE. 259 by colors; the attaining of "aerial perspective;" and finally in lindscape, the blending of shades, hues and tints in distant prospects. SECT. 1. THIE COLORS OF OBJECTS IN NATURE TO BE COPIED IN PAINTING. The analysis of colors in themselves prepares the eye to trace their distribution in nature. Ancient philosophers and poets aided painters in miinute observation of minor distinctions; Aristotle asking, "Why have white men and white horses for the most part azure eves?" and Ovid in his Metamnorphoses, alluding to the blue" hue of nvymphs floating " in the sea." The snow is white, the skv blue. and the grass green; but upon these are reflected a thousand differing shliades, hues and tints; of whichl the ordinary observer is not really aware, though he looks directly upon them. The paliiter must learn not siimply the clha .racteiis,tic features, but the peculiar shades of colors. The farniei calls folitage green, and soil brown yet he has no distinuct words to represent the distinct hues which hlie would blame the pailinter for overlooking. The marinel never separates the white foani on the wave-crest, the light pea-green of its head, the deep blue of its body, and the dense black of its foot; but the artist must analvze and copy them all, or he can never satisfy his sea-bred critic. The huiiter, the driover, the hostler, never have thought of the nice varieties of color in fur; l)ut the artist must understand every varied hue, and never paint two animals alike. The mountaineer who never saw a painting is quickest to note if the artist has caught the iroe- tint of morning on the mountain peak, the slaty grey of its rocky pinnacles, the lively blue of' its sunlit slopes, the sombre of its shaded gorges, and the deep green skirting of its base. The artist must have.eeit all that other men in varied pursuits ever look upon; and must besides have mastered the secret methods by whi(ch all he has seen is to be reproduced. The painting of a basket of firuit or flowers gives the range of livelier colors; and a bunch of autiiiin leaves furnishes a series of soberer shades. The study( for an hour of any single landscal)e. or a rapt gazing at the shifting tints of a waning twilight, indicates that the range for this observation is inexhaustible. Two centuries before Newton analyzed colors, Lionardo, the art APRT CRITICIST.. teacher, thus wrote: "One painter ouglt never to imiitate the manner of any other; because in that case he cannot he called the child of Nature, but the grandlchild. To have recourse to Nature, which is replete with such abundance of oltjects, is always better than to go to the productions of old masters, who learned everything firom her." His three hundred anid sixty-five chapters are iimainly hints for the successfil study of Nature. Ite teaches the distinctionI between transparent and opaque colors; the foriiner showiig, the latter hiding opposite colors beneatl them; and he illustrates their effect by colored glasses held between the eye aind( landscal)e, as also by the influence of smoke, which before a black cliiiun%e- is bluish, but in the air is a redllih h I'iown. Red on blue lake becomes violet;y-ellow upon l)lie is green; while to be pure, ea(hl transparent color should be laid upon a white ground. Recl rays reflected on a red ob)ject give lusti e to its hue; while the cutting off of the sun's ligh]t darkens any color. The thorough student imay find in the pages of Lionardo, Ruskin, Leslie and kindired authors, an exhaustless mine of sliggestions as to nmethods of' studying the tints of Nature. The works themselves, however, firom which they borrowed all their hints, are the learners' true field. SECT. 2. TIlE RELATION OF COLOR TO Forr; AND TIlE DEMANDS OF ANATO3[Y AND GENERAL SYIMIMETRY IN PAINTING. Shading with I-lack ciavoin gives a less distinct impression of' solidity than colored shades fuiniiishi. The s,un's disc is more coinplete when seen through haze than in a clear atlnosl)here; and a snow-capped mounrtain top, or chalky cliff, is less distinct in the clear noon(lday sunlight than when set off by evening tints. A painted portrait ought to present truth even in form more fillly than a cravon drawing. an engraving, or a phlotograpl; for though these may give the perfect outlines of form, while no skill of art can attain like truth in coloring, yet if the coloring be that of a master. it will enhance the vividness with whichl fri)in stiikes the eye. Two causes contribute to the definiteness which color gives to our inmpression of fornm. First. the idea of.l,L)st(r,,ce is ilmore vividly presented when color is idded to a fiormn; for while spectres are always conceived as white or colorless, the very idea of color in cheek or mantle would be conceived as an attribute of a real being. 260 COLOPR PRESENTING FOR-M, MODIFYIN-G SHADE. 261 Second, as shade alone indicates the projection of the diniension perpendicular to the line of vision, and as color al)nloe cven withlout shalde gives the imnpression of substance, when these two, as in a paiintitng, unite, the imlpressioli of forlml is enhanced by the combined t(l(addrless to the eye of shllde and color. I'lie pupil in drawiing and sculpture, having only form to represent, ilay study the huitaii figure in plaster casts alone; but the ])initeIr iiiust have as his imiodel the human foi-r itself; or soiiie firiiiler master's work foundled upon such a study. Colored shades alonet assure the beholder of tlhe correct anaitoiy of figures. T'Iie grieat painters of ancient and modern times have studied fl~.-.hcol-tr and its shades with special care. PIarrliasius and :\l(lles I)ainited from living nude miodels; the formier indiffereut to thle pieciing shrieks of the captive old mian onl the rack as lie sioiight to catch the hues, now flushed, now livid, of dying agony; tle lIatter insensible to the blush of shrinking mnodesty in his lovely nmaiden cal)tive, while he only thought of transfelrriig the tints of t!hat blush to his canvas. Lioniardo mentions:'13lack drapery will make the flesh of the humian figure appear whliter than it really is; white will matke it appear darker; while yellow will rentder flesh miore highly colored, and red paler than it is." Vandyke following this hint chose black velvet as the (ilress of a lady whose complexion he wished to niake of a tint specially delicate. SECT. 3. THE RELATION OF COLIOR TO LIGIIT AN-D SHADE, AND TIIE EXECUTION OF CIIIAROSCURO IN PAINTING. Color brings out form, and heighltens its effect in landscape as well as in portrait. The half shade which gives a delightful softness to objects in the distance at noonday becomnes enchanting when, at sunset, this delicateness takes on the richest coloring. The landscape painter, therefore, must study chiaroscuro in respect to coloring as well as to shading. Though observed and coinniented upon by the ancient Greeks, yet color in chiaroscuro wis first analyzed by Lionardo; it attained impressive imajesty in MIicliel Angelo, and magical life in Correggio; three artists of the sallie age. Lionardo conceived the idea of concentrating the ciief radiance upon the central figure, gradually dininishing the light upon remoter objects. The effect of colored shades aity be seen by ART CRITICISM. placing a light blue cylinder between a black and a white wall. To execute the gradation of shade thus produced on the cylinder, three parts of black and one of l)lue must be tilkell to begin the dark side of the cylinder, blue being constintly adlded to this miixture, until it alone is used to complete the seoi-circle. Niliibei less hints are given by Lionardo: "The shadow of every white hody mnust have a tinge of blue, which it receives froii the air. AThen one white body terminates on another of the same color, as maly be seen by holding one sheet of white paper a little bef-re anotlier, there is an edge of shade cast by the foremost up11on)011 the hii(ler sheet, which nimakes it stand out fiont it. In general, a lightcolored object before a lighlt background lookls dairker than it is; while the same object before a dark background looks lighter than its natural shadle." Germany, England and America have added to the teachings of the Italian school. The poet Goetlhe was reitiarkil,le for his 1)crsonal observations and instructions as to the means of making varied colors meet and blend with each other. Fusiieli regards Lionardo's study of colored reflexes as the cliiimactic work of the revival of art. Hle pronounces the head of Jesus in the Last Supper of Lionardo, firom which as a centre the light is made to radiate. the first, as it is one of the most fliished miasterpieces of chiaroscuro; he characterizes the boat of Ch.ion, tlhe celtrec of 1I. Angelo's Last Judgment, as the perfeetion to which LTionard(o's teaching led the bold genius of his pupil; and lie coulnts the entrancing, fascination of Correggio's skv the most perfect illusion of modern art. Ruskin dwells on the distinction between in-door and out-door sunlight, and between the action of clear white sunli(ght in bringing out local tints, and that of the light of a clouded sky in modifying local hues. Leslie, thoulgh an ardent adnlirer of Raphael, places him low in the rank of colorists, because he did not study and practice the art of chiaroscuro as developed by his contemporary, Lionardo. SECT. 4. THE RELATION OF COLOR TO PERSPECTIVE; AND AERIAL EFFECTS IN PAINTING. OpaquLe-colored objects reflecting colored lights and sha.des make the study of chiaroscuro difficult. Besides this, however, transparent air throws on every distant object the tinge of its own blue, 2(i2 AGRIAL MODIFICATIONS OF COL()IR. making aerial perspective an added study. Like chiaroscuro the attainment of aerial effects in painting seems to be a triuimph of modern art. Yet the Greeks had knowledge of the theory of aerial perspective, as is manifest firom the following language of Socrates: "A imagnitude seen at a distance is not the same as when seen near to us. Objects strike our eyes in different ways according to the medium through which we see them. Our senses are deceived by color, and this deception is transferred to the mind. The art of painting, taking advantage of our liability to this deception, does not hesitate to practise enchantment and to dazzle our eyes." Lionardo, after treating of "Linear Per,spective," consi(lers' The Perspective of Colors." The lilghter a color is in natlure, the darker it will appear when removed to a distance; but with-dark colors it is the reverse, since the blue of the atmosphere lighltens colors darker than azure, and darkens colors lighter than itself. Hence the foot of a column or distant mountain appears less distinct, and farther off, than its top. Colors seen on a level with the eye change more than when seen froni an elevated height; the air being denser in its lower strata. Lionardo illustrates the distinction between linear and aerial perspective by their effects. " A thick air renders the outline of an object undetermined and confused. and makes it appear larger than it is, because the linear perspective does not dinfinish the angle which conveys the object to the eye. The aerial perspective carries it farther off; so that the one removes it from the eye while the other preserves its magnitude. Ruskin argues: "It is not tint, but depth and softness that represent distance. A mountain near is green or gray; afar off it is purple. A yellow box is soft yellow at a distance. Distance alone only softens colors." SECT. 5. THE RELATION OF COLOR TO HIUMAN SENSIBILITIES; AND THE ADDRESS OF VARIED EMOTIONS BY PAINTINCG. Colors, both in nature and art, affect the sensibilities; poets appeal to this law; but it is the artist's office so to analyze both these effects and their causes as to be able to copy the special hues which produce special impressions. The dark colors in general are expressive of gloom, and the light of cheerfulness. Black is the garb of mourning; and in nature 263 APRT CRITICISM. the storm cloud, the darkening eve, instinctively beget gloom. Wlliite, the emiblemni of joy in bridal robes, the symibol of peace and purity in priests' vestments, speaks at a chlild's buiial of innocence prevailing over corruption. M1an's out-door toil makes the graver colors fittest for his garb; while for wolian's in-door adi)i-nmient the gayer hues seeii essential. The dicta of fashlioii somietimes overcome the teachings of true culture. Fuseli irenimaiks, "Glare is always the first feature of a savage or infent taste." Yet European, and even Egnlish taste clilngs to gold and scarlet as the dress appropriate to loyalty and the court; and it doubts the legitiniacy of the Aimerican use of bllck as tlhe gaib appropriate to civic ceremiony and social festivity. It certainly is a mark of seiiii-civilization when the Oriental chieftain flaunts. woman's gaudy colors in his robe and turbala; and there uiust be a lack in true culture when the gorgeous colorifng of' RTibens is preferred to the quiet tints of Lionatido. There is a speechless power in the sunny glow on the " glisteiing white" of tlhe robes of Jesus, of Moses, and of Elijah, in " R)aplhael's'I'raasfiguration;" in the dreary "blackness of darkness" slhrouding the condemned in Angelo's "Last Judgment;" and in the soft and iellow evening radiance falling on the faces of Jesus and the beloved disciple," in Lionardo's "Last Supper;" and tllhey subdue every beholder to the sentiment of each scene. SECT. 6. TIlE RELATION OF COLOR TO DESIGN, AND ITS SPECIAI, APPLICATIONS IN PAINTING. Painting, like sculpture, is an in-door adornmnent; being excluded fiom the field of out-door art, such as funeral or civic nionuinents and landscape ornamtentation. It has, however, its own field of design, fiom which scull)tlure is excluded. An altar-piece, or a inuiral tablet may be sculptured; but the broad field of historiical illustration, the boundless expanse of landscape representation, and the pervasive panorama of wall and ceiling, decoration whichl niay bring the life of an age and nation into a sinigle chalmber, belongs to painting alone. A higher order, also, as well as a wider field of desirgn can be sought in painting. An engiaving fails in its effect, unless the enlgraver has the genius tco give to his work those speakilg touches which go beyond the miere enunciation of formi, and urnislh an 264 PAINTING THE SPECIAL ART OF DESIGN. 265 expression kindred to that of color. Guizot, probably extreme in his view, thinks that sculpture can only express strength and beauty in objects at rest; leaving the whole field of action in art as the peculiar province of painting. The work of conception with the sculptor ends when his model is complete; and a common marble carver might cut an Apollo Belvidere from the cast before him. No artist ungifted and uncultured in design, however, could copy in Guido's Crucifixion the hues of cloud and tints of flesh; in which the light struggling with the darkness throws its uncertain gleam now on the radiant form of the sufferer and now on the shifting mist around. In itiventiot the sculptor directly executes dimensions viewed obliquely, while the painter, by a skillful gradation of colored shades on the retiring limb, foreshortens it. In composition, again, so few figures can enter into even a bas-relief, that the Greeks seem never to have used the word except for the groupings of painting. Yet, again, expressiot is pre-eminently the province of the painter; for, from the day Apelles made the arm of Alexander seem even to a Cicero to stretch forth from the canvas, painting has been the art that has seemed able to impart actual life to its creations. In fact, in ancient as well as in modern treatises on design, the full import of the term forbids its employ except when painting is the subject considered; as appears in Lionardo's sumnmary of design. "The first thing to be regarded is the relief; that the central figure from which the light is cut off by those on the sides have the deepest shades around it. The second is that the order and disposition of the figures be accommodated to the subject. The third is that the figures be alive to the occasion, with expressions suited to their attitudes." 23 I ART CRITICISM. CHAPTER III. LkTERIALS AND SPECIAL METHODS OF USING THEM IN COI t,R ING; AND CONSEQUENT CLASSIFICATION OF AGES, STYLES AND SCHOOLS IN PAINTING. THE history of painting indicates that the hinging principles on which classification of ages and of schools turns, relate to pigments or coloring materials, vehicles or mixing agents, tablets or substances on which colors are laid, subjects or themes to be represented, objects or the purposes for which paintings are designed, and styles or the special manner of execution practised by different schools and by rival artists. SECT. 1. PIGMENTS; OR MATERIALS USED AS COLORS. As outlines, cut with a hard, sharp pencil into the material on which the picture was to be drawn, such as wax, stone or copper plate, were the germs of sculpture, so drawing executed with a soft pencil of adhesive texture, such as crayon, charcoal or chalk. which left a line of its own substance on the material, was the first stage of painting. These primitive pictures were called skiilra?)?s by the Greeks, because they were drawn in shade; which were followed by niouochiromtatic pictures, or those executed in one color with simple ochres or vegetable tints. In the climactic age of painting in Greece, a large number of different pigments were tested and either adopted or rejected as experience developed their merit. Pigments have been classified according to color, as blacks and whites, reds, yellows and blues, alike by Pliny and by modern writers. The nicer analysis of a cultured age classifies coloring materials according to their chemical elements, as vegetable and mineral; the latter being subdivided into earthy and metallic. Modern chemistry has enlarged the number of articles used as paints; it has led to a knowledge of the elements of which coinpounds are made; it has enabled the philosophic artist to effect new combinations, to form new theoretical conclusions as to the durability of different pigments, and to enlarge the list of varying 266 PIGMENTS ANCIENT AND MODERN. shades, hues and tints; yet the same natural and artificial colors which by practice the ancients found to be the best are still retained, and are generally acknowledged to be superior. The following, as examples, now employed in China and India, may be historically'traced through the Middle Ages to Greece and Rome, and thence to Assyria and Egypt. Among vegetable pigments the English mzaqdder, a bright red extracted froii the root of a plant, is the rX,it)i( tioctoria of the Romans, and the ej}teth) a of the Greeks; among earthy the ochre is the Greek 6chros, (pale opposed by Aristotle il complexions to er'tthros ruddy), a term applied to earths of various dull colors, all produced by that common coloring ingredient of fertile soils, the oxide of iron; and among mixed pigments, lake is the Indian word lacca, a designation of the combination by boiling of vegetable tinctures with clays. Besides these, Linton has shown that of forty-two metallic pingments mentioned by Pliny and other ancient writers, thirty-one are now employed by painters. Chemists, who have analyzed Egyptian pigments under the direction of Sir Gardner Wilkinlson and Assyrian under Dr. Layard, have arrived at the following conclusions. The blues all appear to be oxides of copper. The reds were three; one brownish, an iron oxide; another brick-red, an earth tinctured with iron; a third scarlet, a madder, the vegetable coccits. The yellows were ochres on grounds, and vegetable on cloths. The greens were blue glass mixed with ochres; or a vegetable yellow mixed with copper-blue. For blacks, caleined bones, lees of wine, asp)haltum or burnt pitch, charcoal and soot were used; and for whites, a very pure chalk, lime and gypsumn. The unbroken history of pigments is illustrated in the "verujillion" mentioned by Hebtrew writers, ancient translations colmpared with Strabo, Dioscorides and Pliny, showing that the Chaldee sh(shur of India is the?tiltos of the Greek, and the shiopis of the Latin. The study of the nature of pigments was in ancient as in modern times an experimental science; as is seen in the allusions of Greek and Latin writers from Herodotus to Pliny. Thus Hippocrates, about B. C. 420, remarks that "the writings of physicians, or 1v,ysicis.ts, had less regard to medicine than to arts of design." 'The works of Pliny and of Galen show how, from every land and nation, Grecian and Roman artists sought new materials for color 267 ART CRITICISM. ing. The celebrated Byzantine manuscript, discovered among the monks of MIt. Athos, indicates how genius as well as learning lingered in the cloister, enamored of the charms of art. Even after all the advances made by the great masters, Vasari mentions Raphael's delight that the Pope had appointed " an aged friar" to assist him in the decorations of St. Peter, because he expected to "learn some secrets of the art filoln so experienced an associate.' The ambition of modern painters to secure improved pigments, rivaling the ardor of men in the Middle Ages in search of the philosopher's stone, has proved, as Eastlake's investigations show, that the thorough study of the writers on Greek patinting points out the paths which have been most thoroughly searched through, and those whichl invite fiuther scrutiny. SECT. 2. VEHICLES AND VARNIShIES; OR MATERIALS USED FOR SPREADING COLORS AND GIVING TIIEM CLEARNESS, BRILLIANCE AND DURABILITY. Pigments, chiefly in a solid form, must be converted into a semifluid condition in order that they may be spread; and, as the art has advanced, the search for fit vehlicles, or carriers of colors, has been as earnest as for worthy pigments. The first and essential quality in a vehicle is ease of flow and smoothness of spread, as opposed to daubing and pasting, in layiing on colors; a second and important characteristic is adhesiveness to the ground on which they are laid, and consistency with themselves, so that they shall not scale or crumble; while a third and desirable property is lucidness and transparency, the vehicle not covering so as to hide the color, but giving its own sparkling lustre to the dull metallic or earthy pigment which it allows to be seen through itself. Water, the natural and universal solvent, was universally first selected in rude ages for mixing paints. It is the simple liquid which the child and savage use; it was the only solvent employed by ancient Egyptian and Grecian painters even when considerably advanced in art; it has always proved the only vehicle proper for fresco painting; and to this day painting in water colors is an important branch of the finished art. Water dries rapidly, so that by its employ the perishing flower may be completely copied ere the special hue and fresh brill'anee 268 VEHICLES; WATER, TEMPERA AND WAX. 269 of its prime atre gone. Pure water being only a vehicle, and evaporating completely, has no tendency to change the hue of pigments. All water, however, is liable to be affected by acids or alkalies, taken on from the air or earth; and hence in the advance of art filtered rain water or distilled spring water has been sought. Water colors, too, are easily removed; a quality most undesirable in permanent works; though very convenient in designs to be changed; as was illustrated when Apelles placed his painitings in the window of his study, seeking from the criticism of passers-by hints for their improvement; as also was amusingly exemplified in Buffulhmacco, so called from his fondness for buffoonery, who loved to provoke the horror of pious ecclesiastics by painting in water colors on altar-p)ieces, a bear's cub in the arms of the Virgin, or St. Luke blowing the ink out of his pen. The first improvement on water as a vehicle was the adding of a glutinous vegetable substance, or gelatinous animal gum to the water to temper, or give it consistency; called temperata in classic, tem)?pera in medieval, and diste?)tperata in modern Latin. In miodern distemper any glutinous substance which will make the colors laid on adhere to the ground and cohere in their own layers, either gums or glues, either vegetable juices as wine, vinegar and fig juice, or animal liquors as the white of eggs, the serum of blood and cow's milk, have been employed. Pliny mentions a great variety of preparations of gums, resins, oils and mixtures with milk, honey, figjuice, etc., employed by Greek artists; referring to Egyptian varieties of many of them as especially valuable. At the revival of art in Italy, Cimabue restored the tempera of the Greeks; and in Italy honey, and in Germany "the parings of parchments boiled in water," tragacanth, arabic, or ammoniac gums and isinglass, also albumen, serum and milk, have been used for admixtures. To give adhesion in painting on ivory or glass, animal gall, borax, or a mnild alkali is employed. Though gums and glues thus used in the mixing of paints gave to pignients coherence in themselves and adherence to grounds, they did not furnish transparence to the colors floating in the vehicle, nor a varnished gloss and protection to the surface of the picture. The Divine painter of the broad face of Nature hinted a supply for this la k in the wax which coats the upper surface of 23 * ART CRITICISM. leaves, giving them a smooth polish to res;t dampness, and a gloss to furnish them lustre. The use of wax, 1oe'os in Greek, cera in Latin, as a vehicle for mlixing pigments, originated, at a very early day, with the painters of the prows of vessels; who observed how the sun's heat caused the wax used in caulking ships to flow over the painted surface, and to give a firm and glossy surface. Three methods grew up in the progress of' the art; in the first, the pigment was plastered upon tile ground with a scraper called ral)dion; in the second. the nmethod afterward called iiello, it was laid in engraved lines cut into the ground, and impressed with an iron graver called kcestron; and in the third it was spread. as with other vehicles, by the brush called peiiicilluniL. When laid on by either of these methods, a heated iron was held over the surface to burn in the pi,gment; this fiiiishiti,g process giving the name eilca,tstic, firom the Greek eikm(io, to this style of painting. Its discovery was to the Greeks what oil-p)ainiiting was to moderns; Lycippus, the predecessor of Apelles, waiting upon his wax-paintings instead of the epoiese, orj(cit, of ordinary artists, the word ene7cause, burnt it. The advantages of encaustic painting were, the distinctness of hue caused by the floating and consequent glistening of the particles of pigment in the dissolved wax; and the protection of the color from the action of moisture and firom fi'iction in cleaning the surface. Horace and other Roman critics extol the masters in this art; Chrysostom, the great preacher, practised it as an accomplishment; the Byzantine painters continue it to this day; and the Venetians surrendered it only for a superior invention. The chief disadvantages of wax as a vehicle and varnish were its extreme gloss and consequent excess of reflection, which prevented the painting being seen to advantage except in one light; its stiffncss and consequent exposure to crack from bending of the ground; and especially the want of an easy flow, which might allow the particles of different pigments so to intermix as to give gradation of hues. Another vehicle, eagerly and perseveringly soutght by able artists. was at length found in oil; the history of whose use in painting Eastlake has traced back into Grecian and even E,,yptian history. Vasari records the discovery of John Van Eyck, A. D. 1410; who, after numerous experiments, found that linseed and walnut oil were more dryin, than any others, that hey gave a 2; 0 SURFACES FOR PAINTINGS. flrmi consistence to colors mixed with them, allowed their blending better than tempera, lit them up with a radiant gloss-like varnish. and protected the ground fromi damp. Van Eyck's secret afterward spread to Italy and thence to all Europe. Scientific masters like Lionardo, perfected the use of oil; introducing gums, turpentine, alcohol and other ingredients to hasten its drying. The last requisite in painting was a varnish whose smooth polish should at once protect and beautify the colors employed. The Egyptians gave to sculpture, even in coarse granite, a polish such that its lustre still mirrors the sunlight. Grecian statuaries not only gave to ivory and marble the most exquisite polish, but Praxiteles even added a varnish to increase their finish. Painted Egy,ptian sarcophagi still show the varnish laid upon them. iraxiteles and Apelles spent years in search of a varnish at once firm and transparent, which, as Pliny's word ci'citilitio implies, gave a projection of the figure from the canvas. Gum dissolved in oil })y the ancients., and in turpentine by the moderns, has always been the main constituent of varniishes; Indian lac in every age being in use. SECT. 3. GROUNDS; OR SURFACES ON WHICH PAINTINGS ARE EXECUTED. The American Indian daub bright colors on his buffalo robe, on his buckskin moccasins, and even upon his face, arms and breast; the Ethiopian adorns baskets and trinkets with colors; the grounds on which painting is first executed being articles of personal adornment. As art became perfected, paintings were classified, virtually according to their grounds, into miniature, wall and easel. Ivoiry became the chosen material for the former; a stucco of lime for the second; and wood and afterward linen for the third. Miniatures are so called from minitum, red lead, first used as a flesh color in small portraits. The outline was scratched upon ivorv with a sharp pencil, then traced in c(itrntie, or crimson. In the Middle Ages parchment served as a ground for miniatures painted in tempera; especially in linining or the adorning of mnanuscripts. The name i-iqgette was given to small' heads wrought into the delicate vine borders of manuscript pages. Waill-painting in Egyptian tombs and Assyrian palaces was exe 271 ART CRITICISM. cuted on a cement which received the nicest touches of the chlisel, and was a firm ground for rich coloring. The principal ingredient of this cement, as the ancient Chaldee and Greek words show, was lime. Pliny iuentions that in preparing stuccoed walls for paint ing, the lime, chalk or gypsum was beaten in a mortar and mixed with gum-water or milk. In marshy ground a first coat of brick dust was laid on to arrest dampness. Pliny mentions what pig ments were not affected by the lime of the ground. The walls of houses at Pompeii show the extent to which among the Romans this art was carried. Ancient wall-painting seems to have been in secco, or on dry plaster. Infi'esco-painting, of modern origin, pigments are laid on when the mortar is fresh; the colors sinking in so as to resist the wear of time and of frequent cleaning. As in fresco the painter's work must he executed in sections, no more space being prepared thanii the artist can finish at a sitting, to prevent the junctures of the work of succeeding days firom showing it is a study with artists to have the lines of each day's work fall in the shades, where the darker colors hide them. Some have supposed that the walls of ancient Pompeii show these junctures; indicating tlihat secco-f'esco, or the wetting of a dry wall already prepared, was practised by Greek painters. Cimabue, reviving the art, painted dry walls in tempera; Giotto employed i,ttoiiacco, or painting first on a lower then on an upper coat of cement; while Orvieto, a successor of Giotto, A. D). 1390, seems to have been the first to use fresco proper. Lionardo's chief works were in fresco; and M. Angelo admired it as "largehearted." For eas.el-pieces wcood and canvas have been used as grounds alike in Egyptian, Grecian, Byzantine and Italian art. The qualities requisite in a tablet are "durability, infriangibility and inflexibility." Metallic tablets expand too much by heat; parchment bends easily; and both thus cause paintings to crack. Wood and canvas best meet the three requisites. The ordinary ELggyptian coffins were of wood, covered with a thick paint. A cheaper coffin was made of layers of linen cloth, united by intervening coats of lime-cemnent about one-fourth of an inch in thickness, the surface being covered with paintings. So common was wood for grounds that the Latin word tabula became a 272 SUBJECTS OF PAINTING. synonym for easel pictures; machina being the name for easel. Canvas or linen cloth was used by the Greek p)ainters; Pliny speaking of a li;iteittm ipctu?i of Parrhasius; and menltioning that "Nero had ordered a colossal painting of himself one hundred and twenty feet high to be executed il lijiteo," or on canvas. SECT. 4. SUBJECTS OF PAINTING; THE OBJECTS IN NATURE AND THEM.ES IN THOUGHT OR HISTORY SUSCEPTIBLE OF BEING REP RESENTED BY THE PAINTER. The mind of man derives pleasure firom things perceived by the senses, from ideas conceived in the understanding and images fraimed by the imagination, and fi'om remembrances recalled and reproduced by memory. In the youth of an iiidividual or of a nation things are the objects of thought and effort; in the maturity of a man or a people ideas are the study and the employ of human reason; while old age, be it that of an individual or of society, lives in the memories of the past. From these three fields of human tlhought, emotion and action, the artist must select his subjects; and in these three departments the spirit of art in every age and nation has shown progress. The child draws simple objects such as houses; while the genius of a Giotto or West may sketch a sheep or a babe. The savage and half civilized paint single objects; the American Indian, coloring the objects themselves; the Egyptia,n laying colors on pencil drawings of objects; and the artists of the Middle Ages illumninating manuscripts with vignettes. In the age when thought begins, the idea of a Deity and of duty seenis to arise; and the first effort of art is to carve and paint images of gods; the progress of this first stage of development culminating in ancient Egypt in pictured deities covering walls and tablets. Advancing intelligence, analyzing distinct attributes, has at length made not only the marble of Phidias, but the pigments of Apelles create a Jove that seems to speak from his pedestal, and to hurl his thunderbolt firom the canvas. In this stage different tendencies in human thought lead to new varieties of subjects for the brush. From gods, painters have passed to men, ennobled by various classes of qualities and illustrious in differcet spheres. In this field Egyptian grossness and Chinese stolidity, G-reek philosophy and Christian faith, have shown in human subjects cho.sen for M-m 27.1 A RAT CRITICISM. th3 brush, the type of their own intellectual advalieement. The last stage in this line of progress has been landscape painting; in which the highest science as to mathematical realities and optical illusions, causing mountains to tower, clouds to float, and water to ripple and foaia, has made the artist's power seem lmagical. IMemories of the past have firniished painters their richest thenies, and have filled picture galleries with their choicest gemis. First came fianily portraits; which, presenting the features of an individual in his quiet life, but perpetuate a simple memory. Then, when the painter seeks to embody some elevated sentiment by fixing some characteristic expression, the superior range of subjects called "historic" is reached; the highest to which the Grecian painters aspired. Under Christian civilization the inimlitable moral beauty pictured in the lives of Old Testament "fiiends of God," and the unapl)roachable spiritual grandeur everywhere manifested in the life of Christ, has furnished a fertility and fascination in subjects touched by the genius of modern art beyond the conceptions of the ancients; the variety of themies called "scriptural illustrations," developed by artists during the last eighteen centuries, being the most remarkable, as it is the all-pervading characteristic of modern painting. The height of human conception in exalted forms was perhaps reached when Lionardo, almost despairing of ever realizing his ideal of the countenance of Jesus, for weeks now roamed the crowded streets of Milan, and then sat for hours absorbed in efforts of inmagination. When to this perfection of form attained in sacred themes by the Italian miasters shall be added, what has never yet been fully attempted, truth to landscape views in the Holy Land, a new if not the climactic subject for the painter will have been reached. SECT. 5. THE USES OF PAINTING; THE ENDS SOUGHT BY PAINTERS, AND THE CLASSES OF WORKS DESIGNED FOR DIFFERENT EFFECTS. Human wants, individual, social and religious, existing in the early history of individuals and of nations, and calling for works of art when men are yet rude in their conceptions and coarse in execution, increase their demands as mankind refine in culture. In this progress three stages in the uses of painrting are to be observed. The demand for personal ornaments makes the fiel4 for works of 274 THE USES OF PAINT[NG. art of limited extent and perfection. Even the religion of men, in this lowest type of humanity, seems to be an individual interest, showing itself unsatisfied with the idea of a spiritual being everywhere present, or even of a commlon and public deity far off in some distant temple; and seeking an embodimlent of a supernatural power in some shrine in the fantily dwelling, or some image worn about the person. The second stage, when the mind takes in the broader relation of a state or nation, is in nothing mlore marked than in the demand for new works in the department of painting. When the Egyptians, after two centuries of tribal life, reared the Pyramids, when the Hebrews sought a capital and temple, when Greeks, Romians, Arabs, Franks and Saxons attained civil union, then a new type of painting and new uses for this climactic art arose. The architectural age of a nation calls for paintings of two classes; columnar decorations, and firesco, including panel and ceiling paintings. In Egypt, when architecture became truly an art, the columns of temples and the walls of tombs began to be covered with the rarest variety of painted obl)jects and scenes. The Athenians, at the era of Pericles, sent as far as the Isle of Rhodes for painters competent to execute the wall paintings worthy of the Parthenon; while the Romans, yet rude, brought painters firom Greece to firesco the walls of their Capitol at the early date of its erection. The history of church architecture is yet more significant; conimencing with rudely-colored altar-pieces in the Western, and stiff though gorgeous pictures in the Eastern Church; niaturing in frescoes, till under Raphael, Lionardo and Correggio, the walls of churches seemed to re-enact the scenes of Christian history, and their ceilings to open Heaven with its ethereal inhabitants; and finally, when oil-painting came to rival fresco, making the panels of churches, picture galleries of historic and sacred themes. The highest advance in the art of painting is the age of "easel" or "cabinet" pieces, denominated by the ancients "tablet" paintings. When walls are all covered with frescoes, and temple niches and panels are filled with wall paintings proper, the spirit of art-creation is not exhausted, but is nerved for yet higher designs and efforts. Science, philosophy and literature, still advancing, present new subjects for embodiment, and improved taste demands more perfect execution in painting. Works of every 27b ART CRITICISM. variety, fruit pieces, animal sketches, portraits, historical pieces, Scripture incidents landscape, fill wide halls atnd long galleries. For this end Zeuxis and Parrhasius, Apelles and Protogones stretched their canvas and smoothed their wooden tablets, giving the last glory to Grecian art. So now this climactic era of' the painter's skill rules in the collections of the Vatican at Rome, of the Pitti Palace at Florence, of the Louvre at Paris, and of the National Gallery at London. SECT. 6. STYLES OF PAINTING; THE METHODS OF COLORING CIIA RACTERIZING DIFFERENT AGES AND NATIONS, AND ORIGINATING DIFFERENT SCHOOLS AMONG PAINTERS. The Asiatic, as represented by the ancient Egyptians and by the modern Chinese, never has attained to the higher principles of the art of painting, such as perspective in drawing and gradation in coloring. The European, as seen in the ancient Greek and modern Italian, has, firom his first essays, recognized the laws of excellence, and after long practice has reached perfection in execution. Thus ages in design and execution are marked. Even in Egyptilan painting eras of improvement are visible; in Greece no comparison could be made between the early essays of the hero painters and the finished ideals of Apelles; and in the history of Christian art no transformation could be greater than that in painting fiorom the age of Cimabue to Raphael. Yet, again, in the last stages of the art, schools of painting have arisen; determined by the mental cast and consequent taste of the people of different sections and of the artists of different sects in the same country and at the same age. The causes of these differences are vaiio-as. Progress in painting has depended in part on the materials employed. Pliny marks the era between the monochromatic painters and those who, like Apelles, used four or more colors. Yet miore as to the vehicles employed, water-color sketching, the clear and open lines of fresco, or the deep round moulding of oil-painting, artists have separated into classes and schools; Raphael, M. Angelo and Lionardo, with all their great skill in oil-painting yet loving the free scope, the quick execution and the striking effects of fresco. In Asiatic painting there has been no division of schools. The earliest division in Greece, the Hellenic or Greek proper, and the Asiatic or provincial, was made after painting had been recognized 276 AGES AND SCHOOLS IN PAINTING. as a sister art with sculpture and architecture; the freedom in conception, and adherence to nature in execution, peculiar to the Greek coming in this art into most marked contrast with the stereotyped and trammeled spirit of the Asiatic. The second division, that of the Athenian and Sicyonic schools, arose firom the comnmercial and literary spirit of Athens, in contrast with the rural aristocratic conservatism prevailing at Sicyon. A double tendency widened the breach between the two schools: the taste of the people leading them to patronize their preferred style; while artists firom distant provinces, according to their cast of mind, were drawn to one or the other of the two centres. In the Augustan age three distinct schools again arose, nearly akin to the three Grecian schools just mentioned; namely, the Byzantine, the Grecian and the Etruscan. The BByzantine retained the stiffiess in form and gorgeousness in color belonging to the old Asiatic school. The Greek proper aspired after the grace amid the departed glory of their native land; seeking to be masters in ideal and spiritual themes. The Etruscan, Grecian in spirit and Roman in patronage, uniting the ideal and practical, inaugurated a natural school; adhering to truth in form and color, and adding life and expression. In modern times Italy alone has developed numerous divisions and sub-divisions of schools; as the Florentine, the first to return to nature as a model; the Venetian devoted to color, the RIonian to form, the Lombard to expression, each with its sub-divisions; then the Neapolitan borrowing from all; the Bolognese Eclectic; and the Spanish, of the same cast with the Neapolitan, but more sombre in tone. All these leading schools devoted themselves almost exclusively to Christian themes; the Florentine taking living men and women as models for apostles and saints; the Paduan substituting classic forms in place of traditional or living personages; and the Sienese guarding the ecclesiastic tradition, both as to form and color. In Northern Europe the Flemish, living under a sky murky yet healthful, among a people cheerful almost to levity, pictured cheer fuil home and sportive pot-house scenes in dingy smoky rooms; while the German blended Dutch cheerfulness with classic grace and Italian brightness. In the French school among a peol)le fickle and mercurial, genius is seen ever on the wing; taking a start 24 277 ART CRITICISM.t. with Giotto, and again from Lionardo, yet never guided by a steady fixedness of aim for generations. In England the ijfluence of a cosmopolitan life, with the old Roman yearning after a broad domain, has bred artists persevering and steady, but over-conservative; like the RPoians, too, more ready to accumulate by power and fortune than to create by patient native toil. Finally in America among a people made up of all nationalities, and gathering artists from every country in Europe, no decided national style, except in distant mountain scenery, has yet been established. CHIIAPTER IV. ASIATIC PAINTING; RUDIMENTARY COLORING DEVOID OF TRUE ART IN FORM AND SHADING. As in sculpture and architecture, so in painting, the Asiatics have been true to the traditions of their fathers. As instructors of Africans, quick in rudimentary conceptions, docile as learners, and untiring in application, Asiatic masters taught in Egypt. In India, Persia and the Greek provinces, they gave a spring to iinds imore active than their own; the pupil advancing most after being separated from his teacher. The study of this field requires, first, a survey of rudimentary painting; second, a notice of Egyptian painting as the type of its class; third, a glance at the declining phase of this order of art as we turn eastward; and fovurth, a reference to the westward advance, opening into the grand vista of the Grecian art. SECT. 1. THE RUDIMENTARY STAGES IN THIE EARLY HISTORY OF PAINTING. The childhood of an individual is illustrative of the childhood of the human race. In Asiatic painting the germs of the art are readily traced. A child's first effort at painting is a mere laying of color upon some object. The simple, uneompounded colors, red, yellow and 278 EGYPTIAN C(ILORING AND ITS CHARACTERISTICS. 279 blue, are his first delight. The Asiatic painter has retained permanently this first characteristic of rudimentary painting. The second stage is entered when desire for contrast introduces more colors than one into the sanie picture. In this essay no idea of propriety has been conceived; for a tree is painted red, a cow blue, a hat yellow, without regard to the color which each object really has in nature and should have in art. This stage, again, be comes permanent in rudimentary art. A third stage is reached when the idea of distinctive colors arises; though only approximate in its conceptions and partial in its applications. For the humnan countenance, peculiar in its hue, an approximation is sought in the color red; the whole face, lips, cheeks, forehead, having no gradation firon the ruby-red of fleshtint proper to the white of the eye. This germ of the idea of propriety in color, influencing the artist's choice of colors only in parts of his work, such as blue for a coat, and red or yellow for a vest or trowsers, becomes a permanent one in Asiatic painting. The last stage of advance in rudimentary painting has been a simple increase in the number of pigments. The Egyptians used six different colors; the Japanese employ a greater variety. These varied colors were not graded admixtures; but they were substances found colored in nature, and used as found; having no definiteness of hue, and incapable of representing nature. Gradation of hues, secured by the continual addition to the fundamental color of a lighter or darker pigment, is never seen in Asiatic coloring. SECT. 2. EGYPTIAN PAINTING; THE TYPE OF SIMPLE COLORING, W'ITHOUT PERSPECTIVE, SHADING OR PROPRIETY OF HIUES. The abundant relics of Egyptian paintings, executed centuries before those of the Greeks, surviving them for ages, preserved by the peculiar dryness of the climate, have given a rare opportunity for the study of the methods of those ancient artists. Asiatic influence on painting in Egypt is alluded to by Pliny, who states that "Gyges the Lydian introduced painting into Egypt;" and he adds, "the Egyptians affirm that it was invented among themselves six thousand years before it passed over into Greece;" which he regards "a vain boast." Plinv alludes to Egyptian varieties of ochres and metallic pigments used by the Greek painters; while also he describes theii - ART CRITICISM. mode of painting on silver, and of fixing colors in dyeing. Wilkinson states "That the Egyptians possessed considerable knowledge of the metallic oxides is evident fromi the nature of the colors applied to their glass and porcelain. They were even acquainted with the influence of acids upon colors; being able in the process of dyeing or staining cloth, to bring about changes in the hues by the same process adopted in our own cotton works." Egyl)tian artists painted statues and columns; they laid nmetallic pigments on pottery and mouldings in clay to be burned in; and their frescoes covered walls and coffins coated with a liiie cement. The general characteristics of Egyptian painting are expressed in Pliny's picture of the rudimentary art just cited; he himself saying of the art in Egypt, "such it continues even now." Upon an outline drawing, destitute of shading, Egyptian painters laid their six colors with ungraded hue. They gave, however, a definite, if not accurate hue; distinguishing miost perfectly the dark African, the brown Asiatic, and the straw-colored superior race of the North. Wheat is recognized by its reddish and barley by its gray tint; while gold and other nmetals are distinct in hue. The fixed type they maintained in their art is thus commnended by Plato in his "Laws:" " The art we have proposed for the education of youth was known long ago to the Egyptians. This people, having fixed by statute what forms and what music should be licensed, they had them represented in their temples. Nor was it lawful for painters or other inventive alrtists to mnake the least deviation from the authorized standard. Upon careful examiniation, indeed, it will be found that the pictures and the statues made by this people ten thousand years ago are neither an advance upon, nor inferior to those which they now execute." SECT. 3. THE PAINTING OF EASTERN ASIA; THE DECLINING PHASE OF RUDIMENTARY COLORING. Eastward from Egypt, painting, like sculpture and architecture, preserves its primitive type. In China miost of the painting abundant in every miart, is of two of the classes already mentioned as fo(und in Egypt. Wall painting has less place in this northern climnate. Most of the Chinese painting is executed upon paper, (loth, glass or porcelain. The colors used are chiefly vegetable, sometimes ochre, with water as a vehicle. The ground often lacks 280 PAINT[XG OF EASTERN AND WESTERN ASIA. 281 the consistency essential to prevent the spreading of the pigments. Costume differs in hue; but there is no variation in expression, nor gradation of tinTt in flesh or any other color. The Japanese painters have learned the rudiments of admixture and gradation in colors, of perspective and of chiaroscuro. In addition to black, white, red, yellow and blue, they employ the intermediate hues, crinmson, scarlet, pink, rose, purple, saffron, purple-mnaroon, light and dark blues, and also various shades of brown. In their landscape views, rivers with groups of nmen in front, boats on the stream, and trees and mountains on the opposite side, are sketched with manifest though not accurate diminution from distance. They have mastered also the first principles of aerial effects, painting clouds in the evening twilighlt, below of a pink, and above of a purple tinge; water near the shore, of a saffron, and farther off of a maroon or brown tint. In neither clouds, water or flesh tints, however, is there any gradation proper. The smaller isles of the Pacific and the coast of America, with a population evidently Asiatic, present only the rudest attempts at coloring. SECT. 4. THE PAINTING OF WESTERN ASIA; THE ADVANCING PHASE OF RUDIMENTARY COLORING. A line of improving art in painting may be traced northward through Arabia and Syria, which yet lives in the unburied mnonumnents of Assyria; having relics also in Persia and Asia Mlinor. All these show a progress advancing in perfection toward Greece. The style of coloring now met in this region is no index to its past character; since Greece itself has for ages followed the Asiatic type. In Hebrew painting there are three eras; that of Moses or the Egyptian, that of Solomon or the Phoenician, and that of Herod or the Roman. In the first age not only the simple colors, red and blue, but also scarlet and purple, were employed; but the pigments used were, as Josephus states chiefly vegetable. In the second era, Hebrew, like Grecian and Italian art, had introduced mosaic inilaid with "glistening stonries of varied colors." In this age, too, wall painting existed; ceilings being "painted with vermilion." In the third or Roman era no painting proper is found 24 * ART CRITICISM. in the sacred temple; but the curtains were adorned with "purple flowers. " In Assyria the palace of the ancient Mledo-Persian king was adorned with curtains "white, green and blue, fastened by cords of purple;" and had "a pavement of red and blue and white and black marble." Layard says, "The only colors first used by the Assyrians were probably blue, red, yellow, black and white." "These colors alone were used in the painted ornaments of the upper chambers of Nimroud." "The tints formed by their combinations may have been introduced at a later period." "The Assyrian red exceeds in brilliancy that of Egypt." "It nearly approaches to vermilion on the sculptures of Khorsabad; and has a bright crimson or lake tint on those of' NinirouLd." At this day, he adds, "Dy)es of the finest qualities, particularly reds and greens, which even Europcan ingenuity has not been able to equal, are obtained by the inhabitants of Koordistan from flowers and herbs growing abundantly in their mountains." Statues, also, were colored by Assyrian artists. Layaid remarks, "No trace of paint except in the eyes and on the hair has yet been found on the human body in Assyrian sculpture;" and he adds, "On the colossal lions and bulls, forming the entrances to temples, color only remains in the eyes; the pupils having been painted black and the rest filled with a thick white pignient." WVall painting also was introduced into Jerusalem from Assyria; the Hlebrew prophet, Ezekiel, mentioning "idols and men portrayed on the wall, after the manner of the Babylonians of Chaldea." Layard also states of Assyrian palaces, " The ceilings were divided into square compartments painted with flowers or the figures of animals." A method apparently peculiar is alluded to by Diodorus, who states that "the figures of men and of animals seen on the walls of' the palace of Semiramis at Babylon, were -painted on the bricks before they were put in the furnace." The advance of the Persians in this art, indicated by their superior work now met at Constantinople, may be traced to Homer's day among this Northern race. Pliny, the chief historian of ancient art, to confirm the very early and Arian origin of painting, appeals to HIomer's mention of several varieties of the art existing among the Greeks and Trojans at the time of the sieg, of Troy. 282 GRECIAN PAINTING; ITS CHARACTERISTICS. 283 CHAPTER V. GRECIAN PAINTING; NATURAL COLOR UNITED TO IDEAL FORM. THIE Greeks, having attained ideal form in sculpture, united this in painting with true naturalness in color. To analyze the history of painting among the ancient Greeks is difficult for three reasons. First, the relics of Ancient Grecian painting, unlike their sculpture and architecture, have nearly all perished; and it is only firom scattered allusions by Plato and Aristotle, Cicero and Horace, Pliny and Pausanias, that material for such an analysis can be gained. Second, the technical terms employed by these authors, illustrated in sculpture and architecture by the works themselves, ale unexplained in painting. Third, while able critics like Winckelniann have thoiroughly classified works of Grecian sculpture and architecture, no kindred analysis in the department of Grecian painting has been furnished to modern students. Pliny thus indicates the progress of the art in Greece: "The art of painting was discovered, some say at Sicyon, others among the Corinthians; all affirm that it bega,n with the tmere shadow of a man around which lines were drawn. The second stage was in single colors called mo1iochiron(ito,. At length art invented light and shade; the employ of different colors, alternating with each other, producing this effect. Afterward again there was added lustre; this being another thino than light; which, since it is between light and shade. they called toGos; while they named the commnmingling of colors armoge." These steps of progress, are, first, shading in colors; second, the conjunction and inter-blending of hues; and third, gradation of lights or chiaroscuro, producing tone and harmony. SECT. 1. THE FORMIATIVE PERIOD OF GRECIAN PAINTING, DURING THE AGES OF THE GREEK LYRIC AND EPIC. This period covers about seven hundred years; from the fall of Troy, aboult B. C. 1184, to the restoration of the Atllenian Democracy, B. C. 510. It began with Euchir, the beautiful ART CRITICISM. handed; whom Aristotle mentions as a near relative of Dedalus. A century later, about B. C. 1068S, four eiiiinent painters grew up as rivals; to three of whom, Philocletes, and Cleanthes and Crato, has been attributed the origin of' drawing in outline; while two of them were painters of merit. The first was an Egyptian, the latter two were native Greeks, one born at Corinth, the other at the rival city Sicyon. The paintings of Cleanthes in the temple of Diana in Elis, Strabo says, were admired in the Augustan age; and they were quoted yet later by Greek sophists and Christian apologists as indices of the religious spirit of the early Greeks. A century later, in the ballad age, Ardices of Corinth and Telephanes of Sicyon were rivals for the invention of rudimentary sha(idibg; which invention Pliny regarded an era in the history of painting. Next followed improvement in colo7'iitg; the niiing of colors for gradation of hues being introduced by four artists. Cleophantus, a Corinthian. about B. C. 655, used "ground earthenware" as a flesh color. Yet later, Eurnarus, the earliest painter mentioned at Athens, "was the first to make a distinction of sex in painting." The last step in rudimentary Grecian painting was the executing of likenesses; Leon painting a portrait of Sappho, who flourished about B. C. 600. While noting this progress of the art in Greece proper, Pliny iemnarks of an emninent painter who flourished about B. C. 720, in the Greek provinces of Asia Minor: "Surprise need not be felt at the dignity to which this art so early attained in Greece, when the picture of the battle of the people of Magnesia, in Lydia, against the Cimmerian barbarians, executed by Bularchlus the painter, was purchased for its weight in gold by Candaules the king of Lydia." SECT. 2. THE ADVANCING DEVELOPMIENT OF GRECIAN PAINTING UNDER AGLAOPHO AND DAMIOPHILUS IN THE AGE OF THE GREEK DRAMA. In the united progress of poetry and plastic art in Greece, the drama had more influence than the Ilyric and epic. In the sixtyfirst Olympiad, or about B. C. 535, Thespis first introduced science representations into Athens; 2Eschylus, Sophocles and Eiuripide succeeded; and for more than a century Athenian genius was de voted to the histrionic art. A double influence was exerted by this new bent of the Athenian '284 GRECIAN SCENE PAINTING AND PORTRAIT. 285 mind; the people demanded finely executed scenic representations, and a taste for large and extended paintings, to be seen at a distance, was awakened; which led on to firesco or wall painting. A cluster of artists arose who developed both these departments; the artists in higher walks being the leaders, the scenic painters but imitators. The great early master in easel studies, or in historical subjects associated with higher portrait, was Aglaopho, contemporary with Esclhylus; who, with his son Aristopho, painted the heroes of Troy. Cimon, of the same age, attempted portraits at oblique or quarter views, to bring out characteristic beauties of form. Alluding to the excellences of Aglaopho and his son Polygnotus, Quinctilian says that their "uncoinpounded color so captivates the mninds that study it, that those almost rude first steps, as it were, in the future art are preferred to the greater masters who lived after them on account of a certain natural yearning we have to learn originating elements." Wall painting was introduced about B. C. 493, from Greece into Rome, by Damophilus and Gorgasus, eminent in both stucconmoulding and coloring; who adorned the temple of Ceres in the Circus Maximus at Rome with both these arts. At this era, during the age of Grecian supremacy in Southern Italy, at the homne of the Greek philosopher Pythagoras, there appeared an eminent wall painter named Sillax; whose frescoes became famous. Meanwhile artists devoted to sceiogrctphia, or scenic decoration proper, flourished; then, as now, employing gaudy "uncompounded colors," without finished gradation or blending of hues; of one of whom, Serapio, Pliny says, "having proved unsuccessful at portrait-painting, he turned his hand to scenic painting, in which he attained eminence." Among others of this class the daughter of Cratinus was eminent; to whose lewd "comic scenes" the able Christian Father, Clement of Alexandria, alludes with disapprobation. A ART CRITICISM. SECT. 3. THE RECOGNITION OF PAINTING AS A SISTER ART UNDER MICON AND POLYGNOTUS IN THE A-GE OF PERFECTED SCULPTURE AND ARCHITECTURE. The age of perfected sculpture and architecture covering the lives of Pericles and Phidias, from about B. C. 500 to B. C. 430, exerted a direct influence on painting. From stage decoration the decoration of works of architecture became the absorbing end of this art. Historic paintings, as rich in color and expression as thgenius devoted to that art could make them, began to cover th( inner walls of the Propyl-ea, of the Poicile and of other porticoeabout the Acropolis and Agora of Athens. Mathematical science perfected by Pythagoras, was now directed to the fixing of proportions in fo)rms; chemical knowledge was devoted to the improvement of pigments; and the germ of the study of proportion ir. colored hues and shades is indicated by the azure backgrounds introduced into marble niches for statues, to set off their virgin whiteness. Pliny remarks that the picture of the battle of Marathon, painted on the Poicile, illustrated how far "the use of color had improved," and to what an extent "the art was perfected." The first artist of this are, 31icon, painted on the J'oicile and in the temple of Theseus, legendary themes. With Pantenus, the cousiln of Phidias, he attempted a theme of recent history, the battle of Marathon, on the Poicile; in which having the independence to paint the Persians of larger stature than the Greeks, he was fined by the fickle democracy of Athens. Polygnotus, born in the island of Thasos, was brought to Athens by Cimon, the Athenian General, to adorn the new temple of Theseus. Afterward he was employed by Pericles. Of his style, Pliny records, " He first painted women with transparent dress, and ornamented their heads with parti-colored turbans; and he added very much to the art of painting since he introduced the partial opening of the mouth so as to show the teeth." Aristotle ranks Polygnotus among ethi.cal painters; thus alluding to the intellectual cast of his ideals: "Polygnotus painted objects superior to nature." Panienus, the cousin of Phidias, who himself began his career as a painter, introduced an improved method in fresco; washing "the plastered wall with milk and saffron." Of his works, Strabo relates, "Panxenus, the painter, worked much with Phidias, being 286 GRECIAN PAINTING AND AERIAL COLORPING. 287 his brother and fellow-laborer in the finishing of his carved work, by decorationg it with colors, and especially by painting drapery." Aglaopho the second, nephew of Polygnotus, won that encomiunin of Cicero "that no lover of art would wish to have him other than he was." Athenoenus, the sophist, with a spice of irony, mentioins a picture of his in flattery of the young Athenian demagogue; in which was "seen Nemea seated, and upon her knees Alcibiades liiiiself, more delicate in features than any womian.' SECT. 4. THE FIRST RECEIVED SCHOOLS OF GRECIAN PAINTING, UNDER APOLLODORUS AND EUPOMPUS, IN THE AGE OF GREEK PHILOSOPHY. Plastic art having reached its climax, and filled Athens with the choicest works in sculpture and architecture, Socrates, born B. C. 470, trained as a sculptor, turned the Athenian mind to philosophy, already ennobled by Thales and Pythagoras. Under Plato, born B. C. 430, ideal philosophy, fitted to the genius of the Greek people, began to exert a controlling influence over the creations of art. Discussions in philosophy originating rival schools, artists following the thinking men of their time, sought, according to their bent, to excel in the ideal, or in the natural; while mIany aspired to be teachers of art. Among leading teachers appearing at this era was Evenor, "the father and preceptor of the painter Parrhasius," author of an "exposition hastening to the lights of art." Next came the resplendent Apollodorus, of whom Pliny records: "Hle first introduced the method of expressing splendor in sky," and was "the first of men to discover the mixture of pigments and gradation of shade." IHe excelled in "skiagraphy" or "shadow-painting," in which there is "contrasted aspect in color;" as opposed to "scenographly," or scenic painting, which has no sky, and no alternation of light and shade. Fuseli says of Apollodorus: " He originated local color and tone; not light and shade in themselves considered; but as regulated by the medium which tinges both.... This was the element in the ancient arilioge, that imperceptible transition, which without opacity, confusion or hardness, unites local color, demi-tint, shade and reflexes." The great analytic teacher of this and of all ages in Grecian art was Eupompus, who taught Pamphilus, the preceptor of Apelles; ART CRITICISM. these three artists being leaders in the three climactic ages of Grecian painting. Pliny says of him: "So great was the authority of this artist that he divided painting into three schools; whereas before him there were two only, called the Grecian and the Asiatic. On his account, he being a native of Sicyon, the Grecian was by popular assent divided, so that three were established; the Ionic, the Sicyonic and the Attic." The Ionic was the old Asiatic; the philosophic spirit of the age of Eupompus having led to analytic instead of national names, by which to designate different styles in art. Eupompus taught Lysippus the sculptor, "that nature herself was to be imitated, not any artist." So perfectly absorbed was he in his work as teacher, that only one work of his is referred to by any ancient author. SECT. 5. THF, PERFECTING OF GRECIAN PAINTISNG UNDER ZEUXIS AN) PARRHIIASIUS IN THE AGE OF GRECIAN ORATORY. The era of the decline of the Grecian republics called forth Jschines and Demosthenes; and two classes of influences on art were thus called into exercise. The demand for practical oratory revived the popular taste for histrionic art, the orators resorting to rhetoricians and actors for training in elocution; and a style of painting hence originated corresponding to the "dramatic" of modern Florence. In Greece as in other lands the age of the written drama was not the era of superior acting. 2Eschylus, like Shakspeare, waited long for a Garrick worthily to enact his conceptions. Two centuries after their dramas had immortalized Greece, the orator Lycurgus secured a decree of the Athenian people that authentic copies of the tragedies of 2Eschylus, Sophocles and Euripides should be deposited in the public archives. As the influence of the dramatic age had been felt on the painters of that era, so the double stimulus of the age of oratory and of the histrionic art in two respects led to improved painting; first, giving added culture to artists, and second, suggesting new themes for the pencil. The inspiring appeals of Demosthenes to the works of art wrought in the times of Pericles, recording the deeds of the heroes of Marathon, roused artists as well as warriors; and the portrait of the orator Lycurgus in the glow of action by Ismenius was a new attempt in art. 288 ZEUXIS AND PARRHASIUS. Under Philip of' Macedon, when at Athens the theoretical philoso,phy of Plato was yielding to the practical logic of Aristotle, IPiipl-)iilus, a AMacedoniiaii was teaching art; whom Pliny charactcrizes as " first in the art of painting to be learned in all that lilberal art, especially ill the science of numbers and of geometric mea.suremcents; without which hle declared that art could not be peirfcted." His terms of tuition, a ten years' course, and "a tailent' or about $1()OO as a fee, indicate his eminence. "By his influence," fillowiig up the idea of Euiiolpus of Sicyon, who nearly two centuries earlier had introduced the study of drawing aniid moulding, into common school education, " the plan was effected, first at Sicyonii, then in all Greece, that boys of free birth sh(lld be taught before all things complete drawing, including paintiting on box-wood. " Plily adds: " Pamphlilus caused that the art should be received into the first rank of liberal arts." The second great master, Zeuxis, came from Magna Grmecia, the westernii province. His works were in still life; such as firuit and domesctic scenes. In a contest with him. Parrhasius presented a curtain. and Zeuxis a cluster of grapes. When the birds pecked at his canvas, assured that he was victor, Zeuxis called on Parrhasius to remove his curtain and show his painting. Aware of his deceptionii " lie yielded the palm with ingenuous modesty, since he had deetived the bilds, but Parrhasius the artist himself." Pliny states that in his female figures Zeuxis "gave undue size to heads and joints." Quinctilian says: " Zeuxis gave more fulness to the members of the body; preferring it broader and more close-set; and, as it is thought, he followed Homer in this, to whlom the most robust form, even in females, was favorite." Italian artists would censure with Pliny, and German commend with Quinctilian this plumpness of figure. Of his methods Pliny records: "He painted also noiiochroaicata in white." 1tPairhasius, grand master in the impassioned style, is thus charact(iized by Pliny' "He first gave symmetry in painting, liveliless of expression, elegance to the hair, grace to the mouth; by the confession of artists having won the palm in terminating lines. This is the highest perfection in painting. For to paint bodies an(l the central parts of objects is indeed a great work; but one in whi(-iii nialy have attained eminence. To execute the extremities ot' figures, and to round in the terminal line. is rarely discovered in 289 25 N ART CRITICISM. the success of art. For the extremity itself ought to enfold itself; and so terminate that it shall project other parts behind itself, and also show what is concealed." Pliny adds, indicating how excellences are carried to excess: "Nevertheless he seemed to fall below himself in bringing out the central parts of his figures." Parrhlasius became an authority in painting; leaving "specimens of his drawings on boards and parchments which made him," Quinctilian says, "the founder of laws; because other artists, as if by necessity, follow his models." "He painted," Pliny relatcs, "an assembly of the Athenians," showing " varied expressions; the angry man, the unjust, the inconstant, as well as the yielding, the humane, the sympathizing, the high-minded, the conceited, the cringing, the overbearing, the shrinking; and all these expressions equally vivid." Excessive vanity led him to vaunt himself to be "prince of art," and that "art was consummated by himself." Like too many men of genius Parrhasius gave way to degrading appetites and unmanly passions, painting "libidinous scenes on sniall tablets." Four centuries afterward under the Roman Emperor, Tiberius, these licentious works were exerting their corrupting influence. Seneca, father of the mioralist, censures his inhumnanity in his great work; stating that "when Philip sold the captured Olyiitliians, Parrhasius bought one old man amiong themn, brought hinm to Athens, tortured him on the rack, and firom him as a model painted Proiiiethleus. The old Olynthian died under the tortuie; the artist deposited the picture in the temple of Minerva; and he is accused of having thus defamed religion." Euphlranor in this age was eminent for richness of color, and especially the softness and natuLrilness of his flesh-colors. fie wrote a 1b)ook on " Symmetry," which became a standard among sculptors; adding one on " Colors" equally authoritative with painters. Pliny and Plutarch regarded his Theseus superior to that of Parrhasius; he himself boasting, "that of Pallliasius was rose-color, but his own was real flesh." Of his Twelve Deities Aalerius Maximus says: "He set forth Neptune in the most transcendent colors of majesty possible; having still to represent Jove yet more august. But every power of thought being exhausited upon the superior work, his after efforts were not able:i rise to the point which hlie sought. to attain." 290 CULMINA'IO()N OF PAINTING UNDER ALEXANDEP,R. 291 A single picture of Tiimanthes is eulogized in like terms by CClcro, Valerius iMaximlus, Quinctilian and Pliny. The scene is the.acrifice of Iphigenia, daughter of Agamemnon, to appease offended Diana. Quinctilian's comment is: "In elaborating an Olr.tiOni there are things which either ought not to be presented -,aiiily, or cannot on account of their dignity be expressea. Thus riinanthus, when in his Immolation of Iphigenia he had painted I.'lh.lcas sad, Ulysses more sad, and had added to Menelaus the lighlest expression which art could effect, the range of human :,ffeetions being exhausted, not finding in what worthy manner he ,-ould express the countenance of the father, he veiled his head and left each beholder to form his own conceptions of it." Ainong others eminent in this age was that Nicias; "concerning wAIhIoni" Pliny says, " Praxiteles spoke when being asked which of llhis owni works in marble he most approved, he replied,'Those to which Nicias has given his touch;' so much did he attribute to liis shade-tint." SErCT. 6. THE CUL-IINATING ERA OF GRECIAN PAI,NTING UNDER ITS GREATI:ST MLkSTERS, APELLES AND PROTOGENES, IN THE AGE ()F THE POLITICAL UNITY OF GREECE UNDER ALEXAND)ER TIlE G RIE AT. Under Alexander, the firesh and vigorous genius of 3lacedon, hieetiig the cultured refinement of Athens, Sicyon and Corinth, called forthl the great practical teachers in science and art, Aristotle and P-amphilus. The ambition of the young Alexander, not only to be first of all the Grecian race as a military leader, but also as a fosterer of science and art, awakened the aspiration to show himself worthy to have such a city as Athens in all its glory brought under his sway. The galaxy of masters in four departments of art. Dinocrates in architecture, Lysippus in sculpture, Pyrgotele s in egravig, was comnpleted by Apelles, so unrivaled for ages that painting was called "The Apellean Art."' Pliny mentions of this group: "Dinocrates laid out Alexandria when Alexander was founding it in Egypt; an(d this sanme emperor issued an edict that no other than Apelles ::hold paaint hiimself; none but Pyrgoteles engrave his likeness, a(d I none but Lysippus cast his form in bronze; which arts these men have made illustrious." AlltT CPRITICISM. In this age experimental science had perfected form in sculpture and had improved pigments and vehicles in coloring; while exact science had given the last power in perspective and grouping. Yet more at this era the true method of studying nature was realized under the teachings of Aristotle; and its employ by artists secured wonderful success in aerial effects. To this that great philosopher, teaching and writing in this age, refers, when, having alluded to skill in proportionate admixture of colors as "one method by which special hues are produced," he adds, " but another method is to make colors appear through each other; which painters employ when thley place a second color over one more vivid; as when for example, they would make an object apparent in water or in a dense atiiosp)here; as too in nature the sun in itself appears to be white; but through a dense atmosphere, or through smoke seems to be red." Two causes conspired to the superiority of Apelles; his untiring industry and the new methods which his studied efforts to aid othei artists, and also the criticisms he invited fironm the common people suggested. As a specimen of his diligence, Pliny states: "Ie sienglyv transmitted to his successors more improvements in painting than all other artists combined; he also brought together in published volumes what might serve for instruction in its theory." " Ile never spent a day so occupied that he could not practise his art by drawing a line; which habit of his passed into a Iroverb. " In his disinterestedness, "'he yielded the patlm to )Ielantlius in grouping, and to LAsclepiodorus in proportion; admiring the latter in snymmetry." Pliny relates at lengthl how lie taught the people of Rhodes to appreciate Protogenes. Having on his first visit inquired of the modest artist for how much he would sell his pictures, he circulated the report that he had bought them for the enormous sum of fifty talents, or about $45,00()0(), and intended to sell them at a profit; when the Rhodians bought them at his price, thus giving at once fortune and fame to their obscure townsman. Apelles used to expose his finished pictures in the window of his studio, and avail himself of the suggestions of passers-by. Pliny relates that "being censured by a cobbler because in soiiie sandals he had made one stitch more inside than outside, when the same lman on the next day, boastful on account of the correction the 292 APFET.,ES AND PPROTOGENES. natist had made on his fornier suggestion, caviled about the ankle. AI)elles indignant stuck up this notice,'Ne sutor supra crepidanII judicaret, Let not the cobbler criticize above the sandal;' which also passed into a proverb." Pliny adds: "His society was very attractive to Alexander the Great, who often came into his shop. But, when Alexander gave opinions as to many things of which he was ignorant, Apelles courteously advised him to silence; saying that the boys who ground his paints were laughinig at himi. So great of right was his authority toward a king." "When hlie had ordered that one of his concubines, a special favorite of his own, Canlmpaspe by name, should be painted naked by ApI)elles on account of his admiriation of her foriii, when it becanie apparent that Apelles had fallen in love with her, he gave her to hiiii as a prcsent." Among spccial methods invented by A)elles, "of great profit to others devoted to art," was the bringing out and softeiiing of his colors with a minutely thin coating of black pigment, which no one succeeded in imitating. Apelles was remarkable for accuracy in likenesses and for skill in securing the best views. In painting Kinig Autigonus, who had lost an eye, "he niad(c the view oblique, so that wlhat was wanting in his face seeiiied rather the necessary lack in the picture.'' He painted Hlercules with his back toward the beholders; in which " this most difficult result was obtained; le ishowed his face imore truly than if it were a fiont view." HIis skill in aeiial effects is thus recorded: " ie painted what cainnot be painted, slheet-liglhtning. chainlightning and lieat-liglitning.'' '1'( two of his Vcnuses, 1)reserved at Bonie, one inijured and the othCIer unfinisled, which no artist of any succeeding age was able to toiuch, Tliny and Cicero allude; the latter niaking one of theIm the turn of a sweetly sad sentiment. Next to Apelles in this age of great artists was )iotogeneqs, whose excellences were the exquisite delicateness of his lines alnd the body hlie gave to his color; both of which iiiade his labor slow aud the nuimber of his finlied -woi-ks few. Borii in Rlhodes, in his youth a sbhil-I)aiiter, he was l)roii'ht out 1by Apelles. iavin-g heanl of his ilieroit, Apelles visitedl Blodes to seek himi out, called at hit3 studlio, and learnilg, that lie was (-)out, di-(w a fine colored line on a picture hie was painting. Proto,gees returiig exclaimed, "Apelles has conme!" then dra-viig a yet 25 293 ART CRITICISM. fi,i(,r liii ill another color at its side he concealed himself, when, as lie hail p)ronised, Apelles again called. Irritated at being refused a second time an interview, and piqued at being excelled, Apelles drew a third line yet finer, between the two, and hastily left. Protogrenes hurried after him; and a friendship began that made Protogenes in fortune and fame second only to his benefactor. Drawn to Athens, Protogenes painted frescoes on the porticoes of the Acropolis, yet waiting for a master-hand. Aristotle admired Protogenes' finished art; he painted "the mother of the philosopher;" and he was urged by him to attempt a work half-real, halfideal, "the deeds of Alexander the Great." Pliny adds, "The impulses of his spirit and his peculiar bent in art impelled him the more to these works." Protogenes began this work, executing " reliefs in bronze;" probably designing a column sinmilar to those of Tritjan and of Napoleon, executed the one four, the latter twenty centuries later. Returning to Rhodes in later years, his " Ialysus," described by Pliny, affords an epitoiiie of the Grecian artist's life-labor. "When palinting it he lived on boiled pulse, since this diet would sustain at once hulnger and thirst, lest he should dim his perceptions by too great delicacy in food. He laid on four thicknesses of color as a protection against injury and age; so that the lower coat might succeed when the upper gave way." In it he sought to represent the foam issuing from the mouth of a panting dog. lWhen, "desp,ite his torturing anxiety of mind, though often he had wiped off the )-:tint and had changed his brush," it still "' eenie(l to be painted, not to be born firom the mouth. At last enraged at art, lie strucek his sponge on the place, from it replaced the colors takeci off just as hlie had desired, and fortune created nature in the'picture." Only ten finislied works of Protogenes are mentioned by anc.enit admiirers of art; this fact explaining the allusions of Quinetilianr, Petronius and Pliny to the excessive labor bestowed on his works. To this age belong-ed Aristides, who in ex)pression excelled Apelles. Pliny records: " tIe first I)ainted(l I;sioiI expressing those emotions of men vwhichl the Greek call Fth,e; o, violent affections." One of his imaster-pieces adiuired hy Alexa,l(ler, was a picture of a battle in which " a child is creeping to the breast of its mother dying (of a wound, while the mother is understood to O,l IL. I THIE DECLINE OF GRECIAN PAINTING. perceive it and to fear that it may lap blood, her milk being dried up. In this age Pausias of Sicyon perfected the art of enamel painting. His power of contrasting and grouping was acquired from a flower girl whom he loved; "by imitating whose work he advanced that art to the employ of a most numerous variety of flowers," His power in foreshortening, shading and transparence is described by Pliny and Pausanias. "When he wished as the chief thing to show the length of the ox, he painted him with his head, not his side, toward the beholder, fully representing his size in both dimelnsions." "While all painters made of a glistening white the parts which they wish to appear prominent, and finished with black, he made the whole ox of a dark color, and gave body to the shade firom itself; thus with great art representing all portions projecting forward in due proportion and in a bent form as if solid;" evidently introducing the light from behind the object. In a celebrated picture of his, "wine is flowing from a goblet, the goblet is of transparent material, and the face of a woman is seen through it." Of this era, too, was Nicias; whose teaching as to composi. tion has already been quoted. This euliiinating era was the age of writers on art. Apelles in his gathered volumes was the leader in this department. Melanthius also, among others, wrote a treatise on painting; of which Pliniiy I)ade extended use in his history. SECT. 7. TIIE DI)ECLINING PERIOD OF GREFCIAN PAINTING IN THE I)ECLINE OF GREEK POLITICAL SUPREMACY AND OF GREEK CU,L TURE. Political dominiation awakens in a conquered nation a prejudice against the culiture which gives the ruler superiority. Amonlg the selfish and tyrannical successors of Alexander, only the Ptoleniies of Egypt preserved the love of culture belonging to the true Greek. The history of Grecian painting, after Alexander, shows a steady though fluctuating decline, like the fading of a sunset sky, radiant at moments with scattered linecs of rarest beauty; while, howeveCCr, the gray is fast consuming the gold. During this era, succeeding the ideal Plato and comlprlehensive Aristotle, the sensual philosophy of Epicurus was antagonistic to the spirit of true art. Yet the Eclectic schools of Athens, Pergalnos 295 A f'T CRITICISM. Tarsus and Alexandria gave to Greek genius in every department aftcr Alexander's, and even after Chlrist's day, a congenial honme. The appreciation, too, of Grecian art shown by the early Romian conquerors under the Republic, as well as by the first emperors, who not only transported to Rome works of ancient art, but invited Grecian artists as their teachers, acted against the tendency to de generacy. The first stage of decline manifested itself in the abuse of the imagination; the phantas'a of Plato. The second cause of cor ruption arose from Roman fondness for decoration. An arrest of these degenerative tendencies acted for a timne when Ptoleniy 'Philadelphus was enriching the Museum of Alexandiria with collec tions of literature and art, and the poet Aratus, a Dian of broad and refined general culture, was acting as his agent in gathering up in Greece the works of the best masters. Nealces. a special fi'iend of Aratus, restored injured pictures of the old masters bought for Ptolenmy's Museum. His skill in invention was shown in a picture of a naval battle on the Nile; whose breadth "like to a sea," was indicated "by the device of a little donkey driuking on the shore and a crocodile lying in wait for it." A centuryi of decline succeeded to the age of Aratus and of Ptoleiniy Philadelphlus; revived at the Roman conquest of Greece, B. C. 168, by Paulus IEiuilius; who, appropriating to himself nothing but the library of the usurper Perseus, was aiubitious that the spirit of Grecian art should becoiue the public treasure and renova.tor of the Romnan p)eo)le. The two lights of this age were Ileraclides and 5letrodorus; the latter "a painter and a phlilosopher," whoml, when Lucius Paulus desired firom the Athenians to send to hiln a mnost approved philosop)her to educate boys, and also a pailitel to furnish decorations for his triu-iiph, the Athlenitans clhose as most eminent in each of the desiired qualifications.'Thle decline of fi'eco uin(ler Augustus alluded to by Vitruvius as stupid and libidinous, finds abuiidaint illustration in the frescoed wals of l'oiiipeii. now unt)l,ie(d. '!'he last in the line of tile Greek painters pi'ope)r was a I-yzintine elIldoyed( by Julius Casar at Rome, noted for his Ajax andl 3cdca. 1il;ny, liuwever, crowds into the close of his brief history the nailles :ef several artists, whom he groups in the last or declining age; lhis reniark about them being, "Up to this point the chief leaders in 21,)6 E,PAS IN ROOMAN PAINTI-TG. eacl kind of the art having been presented, those next to the first will not l)e passed over in silence." lIe closes his history with the mention, " Women also painted," adding five names. Of these we observe that nearly all are daughters of painters, who from tlheir iathers caught their devotion to art; their themies are generally ideal and religious; and they attained a grade of eminence whichl led Pliny to place them among painters of the lower rank. CHAPTER VI. ROMIAN AND MEDI2EVAL PAINTING; CIIARACTERIZED BY ARTI FlICIAL COLOR AS AN ADJUNCT AND ORNAMENT OF ARCIIITEC TUItRAL FORMIS. AMrONG the Romans painting was a mere adjunct of Architecture. Not only were walls and ceilings adorned wvitlhi fiesco on I,i:ster, and with encaustic enameling on wood; but, Pliny says, ',we begin even to paint stone." On the door-posts of private l,)i-es portraits of deceased ancestors in stucco took the place of stitnaryt in iiiarble and bronze preferred by Grecian taste. ft constituted a new era lwhen, at the conquest of Greece, the c:tliiiet paintingrs of the great Grecian masters were broughlt to the ]',linian clapital. Pliny's meimoir is studded with the frequent nienti,i) that such a painting executed by Zeuxis or Pirtihasius, by .\l(lles or Proto._enes, and even by earlier artists, were in this or th:t teiaple at Rome, either still seen or burned in the destruction of the celifices. T'Ihese collections firom Greece awokle in a few Roman minds an anilbition to rival these works of the Greek masters. Soiiie of these Cicero found occasion to conmmend; but in general their geilins produced only works of an inferior cast. VWhile Pliny was vwriting,. a new spirit was conlinr over thousands of tlle Roman peolle; a quiet leaven. begiuniug in thle inisigrnificant (,liiistian gatlierilgs whichll Trajan directe(l this liteirty fitvorite of his to watch as novelties, was spreading its influence, destilied to mould art in the two centres, Rome and Constanitnoille. .N *" 297 ART CRITICISM. The eras in the history of Roman painting take their character fi'oi the series of events thus noted. SECT. 1. COLLECTION OF GREEK PAINTINGS AND EMIPLOY OF GREEK PAINTERS AT ROME. A line of Grecian painters, beginning with the two who adorned the first capitol, is found at Rome during the ages of the Kingdomi and of the Republic. One of the best was Eumvelus; and the last Ililarius who flourished about A. D. 364. The Rouanis, however, were eminently collectors of cabinet or easel paintings. About B. C. 167 IEmilius conquered Macedon, enriched by Alexander's influence with the best works of the Greek painters; and these movable paintings transmitted to Rome, whetted the appetite for a jiore extensive plunder. About twenty years later, Mlummiiius, having subdued Achlaia, bore off countless stores of statues and paintings. At a later period these were g'atlhered in public repositories such as libraries and picturegalleries. Of these Pliny beautifully remarks: "' In libraries are reverentially preserved not only true likenesses of the mien whose inmiortacl spirits are still speaking in the same places, but also ihumani desire produces portraits not historically preserved as happens in the case of Homier." Pollio, a consul under Autgustus, began these collections, while Agrippa, who built the in(iagificent porltico of the Pantheon, recomiiiiended to his countrymen " that the woiks of art they had gathered should be devoted to public u.se; and that to this end they should be placed in public repositories for the iml)rovenienit of those who devoted themselves to the Il)tisuit of art, as also for the pleasure and admiration of all." SECT. 2. -NATIVE ROMAN PAINTERS AND TIIEIR PRODUCTIONS. As to the antiquity of Roman painting Pliny records: "There are in existence in the sacred structures of Ard(ea, paintilngs that are miore ancient than the city of Roiue. Among the llRoiins honor at an early period attached to this art." Of the source of this devotion, having mentioned that art in other nations declined 'because as there were no images of souls, those of bodies were neglected," Pliny adds: " On the other hand, amonig our ancestors in the doorways might be seen not the works of foreign artists, .o. 0 9, LATE, ROMAN AN-D EARIT,Y CHRISTIAN PAINTING. 299 either in bronze or marble, but busts in wax with curved borders drawi around these imuiages and painted portraits" Akin to these ovals at doorways were the painted shields called clape)s firom the Greek glypheos, with the portrait of the owner in the centre, after the nianner of the Carthaginian captured from IlIasdrubal; these decorated shields naturally suggesting the oval fobrm for a class of cabinet paintings. As early as B. C. 300, the chief of the noble family of the Fabii. illustrious for generations under the title "Pictores" or Painters. decorated the temple of Safety at Rome. After the Fabian falllily. Roian painters of less merit succeeded. An interesting instance is mentioned of a mute, son of a man of consular rank, whom "3Iessala the orator thought should be taught painting; which the Eimperor Augustus approved. The boy, having greatly advanced in this art, died. Under Nero flourished three painters of native birth; under Vespasian, Pitius, and Mallius noted for his scurrility as well as ability; and under Trajan, Turpilius, a Romian knight, a native of Venice, of' whom Pliny records, "his beautiful works are to this daty extant at Verona. He painted with his left hand; which is related of no one before him." SECT. 3. POMIAN TASTE IN PAINTING CHARACTERIZING EARLY CIRISTIAN ART. In the eairly Christian church the ecclesiastical power of Roime gave to taste in art the same direction which the 1{onian civil p1ower had inspired. The characteristics of early Christian paintini iay be gathered, first from the relics of this age preserved at Roiiie; and, second. fiom the writings of Christian fathers who allude to the paintings and artists of their times. A succession of Greek painters, flourishing from about A. D. 100 to 350, is alluded to and criticised by Greek scholars and Christian fathers in terms so kindred that it is manifest appreciation of tiler. art formed one of the peculiar characteristics of early Christianity. Thuls'l'ertillian in the third century, in a controversy on the Stoic 1)hiloso)hy with Ilerinogenes, a Greek poet and atrtist, is not only nost coirteous in argunient, but highly complinmentary to the artist. Very early, artists themselves Christians, an(l painting Christilan t,lhemes, are met. The eras of this Christian art are differently ART CRITICISM. marked by critical writers. Kugler, borrowing from architecture, styles the painting of this age "Rollanesqlue." Mirs. Jalnleson, followed by Lady Eastlake, distinguishes between paintings of superittr(il scenes, adapted to inspire religious awe, and na(tural scenes in the life of Christ and his apostles. Jarves styles the age of symbols and ideals of the supernatural theological; and the age when models for Scripture themes could be chosen from among living men historical. The development of Christian painting makes prominent these four elements and ages. First, the synbolic; simple signs of ideas and instruments depicting an office; practised by Christian artists for three or four centuries. Second, the mystic(ll; the representation of supernatural beings; a style culnminating in the Byzantine church, and fixed to this day; ruling also in the Western church with occasional intervals during eight or nine centuries, till the revival in Italian painting. Third, the ascetic; natural personages in an unnatural state of dejection or exhilaration, a style originating in Italy, holding sway till the age of Raphael and finding its congenial and permanent home among the Spanish painters. Fourth, the historicrll; in which incidents in the lives of the patriairchls and of Jesus find natural representation; an era coininencing, with the great nmasters of Italy and becoming the very life of Christian art in modern Europe. All these styles had a geirm nurtured in the field of Roiman painting. Kugler makes the earliest period of Christian painting end with the invasion of Rome by the Lomibards in the sixthl century. Hte classifies its subjects and objects in five groups; first, cebleans proper, such as the cross, the anchor, etc.; second(, funeral inscril)tions annd symbols; thir(', painiitings of Christ's featlures or forml; fomlrtlh, miniatures of eminent Christian men; fifth, mnosaics, beginiing in the fourth century with the decoration of walls instead of pavements. These divisions are iiiade on diverse grounds; the first relating to objects colored; the second to the location and use of the painting designed; the third to subjects represented; the fourth to the size of the works executed; and the fifth to material einl)loy(-)ed.'rllhe :onsideration of the first and last of these groups belongs to the su},ject of decorative art; the second third and fourth are tht painting proper of this age. The (Catacolnbs of Rome, like the tombs of Egypt, are the per 300 EARLY CHRISTIAN PAINTING. manclot gallery of early works in Christian painting. About sixty of thlese ancient burial-places remain; the most interesting of which are on the old Appian Way. The themes relate to the Cllristian's trials and rewards; amongi the fornmer Adam and the serl)ent, Moses smiitin, the rock, Daniel aimong the lions, the three chlildren in the furnace and Jonah in his arbor; among the latter Adam and Eve in Eden, Noah and his dove, Moses at Siiiai, ELiiljal ascending, the Good Shepherd and the raising of Lazarus. A heid of Christ illustrates the artistic execution of these paintings. The face is oval, the nose straight, the eyebrows arched, the forehead high and smooth, the hair parted on the forehead and hanging in long curls on the shoulders, the beard thin, short and divided, the exl)pression mnild and serious, the age between thirty and forty years. These artists never represented the Divine Being but in a symbol, such as a finger pointing fioni a cloud; and tihey placed no,imb-ts, or circle of light, about any head but that of Jesus. They represented historic scenes of the Old and New Testaimcnts with the naturalness of true life; borrowing fi'om classic art such models for ideals as Mercury and Orpheus. At an early period a tradition prevailed that Luke, like other Greek ph ysicians of his day, was a painter. Ireneus, who lived as near to Chlist's apostles as we do to Washington, attests that pictures of Christ were foulnd in the hands of lovers of art, as well as of Christian believers. As Origen, Clenment of Alexandria and Tertullian in the next generation initinate, at first these representations, corresponding it!+ t I. H::(1 history of the Christian Church, enmbodied the iniage of the': lan of Sorrows." When, however, under Constantine, Christians were the happy instead of the unfortunate of earth, then, as Jeronme and Fusebius state, artists made Jesus the reflex of their own changed aspect, painting him as "the one altogether lovely." A generation yet later, so intelligent and devout a man as Augustine, alluding to the pictures of Christ then multiplied as "varied in expression and composed after innumerable conceptions," argues that all these are legitimate and true, since they give the ideal best suited to aid the mind of each student of his character. In the early days of the Church no thought is hiinted that pictures of Christ, in ideal representations, were anylthing else than contributions of art to general culture, and an aid( to the study of Christian truth. 26 301 ART CRITICISFM. When, however, thlousands who had been trained to worship inag-es of' Girecian deities nominally avowed themselves Christians, the paintings, then frequent in churches, naturally becamie objects of religious reverence, leading to restrictive canons. The fact that the churches at this era were filled with painitings liable thus to abuse is the strongest possible testimony as to the purity, as well as to the extent, of the culture of this art among the early Christians. SECT. 4. THE BYZANTINE STYLE OF PAINTING; RIGID IN OUTLINE AND ENCESSIVE IN COLORING; Pl,ERMANENTLY ESTABLISHED IN TIE EASTERN CI,URCH. As Christianity caine fioni the East and tile first Christian Emperor established a new capital on the borders of Asia, it was natural that Asiatic ideas in art should influence even the Greek. The style of p)aintingo, Asiatic in caste, though Christian in sentinent, called Byzantine, which began at thel Eastern capital in the fourth century after Christ, had characteristics both of formi and color which live on the walls of Greek churches to this day. In f,)il the Byzantine designed only single figures, and hence had no perspective; it did not attempt portrait; and it had no background or shadow giving projection to the figure. In the posture of the head there is a rigid stiffness without any expression; the cheeks are lank and corpse-like; the body is thin and lifeless; and the dress is stiff as with starch, having no flowing grace. Restricted to sacred persons, the Byzantine represented Christ on the cross as sinking, his head hanging, his knees relaxed and his body swayed to one side; while the Italians always in the crucifixion pictured Jesus virorous with life, erect and victor over suffering. In color the Byzantine painters are vet more Asiatic. They use the pure colors without gradation of shade or hue; flesh color is cheriry —red, with no variation for forehead, cheek, neck or hand; and dress is glaring yellow or blue, pink or purple. Though the colors are laid on with thickness, they have no transparence; and though the polish is perfect, it is the burnish of metal, not the ir,ra diation of color reflexes. The striking peculiarity of the Byzantine is the golden background formiing the halo-relief to sacred 'leads. Only occasionally, in the age of Constantine, and later, as in the tenth century, did genius assert its sway in this style. The differing positions taken by the Eastern and Western 302 BYZAN-TINE AND ROMANESQUE PAINTING. 303 churches as to imnages and pictures in sanctuaries gave the leadership) to Byzantine art. In the age of Constantine, at a council of the Weterii Church held at Illiberis in the south of France, a town then decayedl but rebuilt by Constantine in honor of his mother, a decree was adopted to the effect, " that pictures ought not to be in the church. lest what is I)ainted on the walls should be superstitiously reverenced and worshiped." A reaction naturally followed; and about A. D. 590, Gregory the Great, wrote, "Paintings oulght to be retained in the churclhes, in order that those ignorant of letters may as it were, read by looking on the walls what they are not able to read in the manuscril)ts." )leaiiwhile in the Eastern Church painting became even more cherished firom the order of Justinian, A. D. 692, forbidding images. Tlhe rich coloringl of the Byzantine spread westward, and became a fundamental characteristic of the subsequent Venetian school. Dnr ing ten centuries Greek ecclesiastics of culture, as Chrysostom, the Demiostlienes of the Grecian I)ull)it, were "devoted to encaustic .linti,ng." Down to this day the chief seat of this art has been the promontory of )It. Athos; on which no less than twenty-two convents, occupied by over four thousand imonks, are consecrated to the art so muelh in demand in the Greek Church. SECTr. 5. THE RO[A-NESQUE, OR RUDE NATIVE STYLE OF PAINTING LONG PRIEDOMIINANT IN NORTIIERN ITAI,Y. The demand in the WVestern Church for sculpture made form rather than color to be thle aiiii of Ronli.an painters. As distinguished fiom the Byzantine, the style called PRomanesque was statuesque in foirm; while in color it introduced a subdued and la(k-lustre tone, the cloudy gray of a time-worn marble statue, rather than the gaudy sky-blue, crimson and purple of an Oriental grandee. The seats of this style were Rome and Parma, the Umbrian valleys and Lonmbardy. In Umbria it was rigid in outline and lifieess in color; while in Lombardy it became miore truly a copyin!- of nature. UJnider Charlemagne it reached its highest stage of developiment; specimnens of which improved style are preserved at Roiiie, Paris and Munich. Its geuis in Italy were the fine old mosaics now met in the most qncient churches, executed between the fifth and ninth centuries. *~ ~.e. ~.,lee ,e.*e ART CRITICISM. Usually located in the arches of the choir hack of the altar, they represent Christ with an expression l)acid and gentle, and his garinents hlanging in plain folds. The excellence both in outline and coloring of these mosaics, which could not perish with timie, is a testimony to the lmeriit of painting proper, which must have decayed. Pievailing until the eleventh century, the Ronianesque was first modified by the introduction of the By.zantine style of coloring into Venice; then, finally superseded by a return to the method of drtwiiig firom nature in Florence, Padua, M1ilan and other cities where there was special freedom of thought in science, philosophy and religion. CHIAPTER VII. TIlE RISE OF MODFRN PAINTING IN SOUTHERN EUROPE, INCLUD ING ITALY AND SPAIN; PRE-EMINENTLY RELIGIOUS IN ITS THEMES, CLASSIC IN FORMS, AND SPECIALLY CIhARACTERIZED BY PERFECTION OF LIGIITS IN COLORING. IN modern painting, mnore than in literature, the progress of Christian thoughlt is to be traced. For centuries only symn)ols, then portraiture, at first placil, next ascetic, again sensuous, and finally natural, were leading on to higher art. The new spring given to science and philosophy in the eighth and ninth centuries under Alfred of England and Charlemiagne of France. showed fruit from the fourteenth to the sixteenth centuries. In England, Roger Bacon in science, Chaucer in letters and WVickliffe in religious inquiry, opened the door for Lord Bacon and Newton, Shakes,peaie and )lilton, and the lights of the Anglican Ciurcil; in France and Germany, Copernicus and Tycho Bratlie, Rahelais, and Thomas Aquinas led on to Descartes and Leibnitz, to Luther and Pascal. In Italy, the land pre-eminent in art, C(-)lutnbus and Galileo, Lorenzo and Iacheiavelli, Dante and Petrarch, Savonairola and Leo X. were products of the age of Giotto and 304 PISFE OF MIODERN ITALIAN PAINTING. Briunellesehii; opening the way for Lionardo, Raphael and M. Aiigclo. In the progress of painting in Italy from the twelfth to the eighteenth centuries, native temperament distinguished the T''uscan of Grecian descent firom the Umnbrian of Italian lineage; comltcrce with the East made the Venetian most unlike to the agricultural Sienese; and the republican Florentine and the hierarchical 1'(oInan, the scholastic Paduan and the romantic Neapolitan necessaiily belonged to different schools in art. The cosmopolitan and coIntl)relhcnsive leaders, Giotto, the olriginator, and Lionardo, Ba1)lacl anid Al. Angelo, the finished masters, influenced all the Italian schools. Five leading divisions are recognized: the Tuscanl, oioman, Bolognese, Venetian and Lombard; and as subdivisions in the Tuscan, the schools of Florence, Siena and Pisa; in the PBomain, the Roman proper and the Neapolitan; in the LfOIil)ard, thle schools of MIilan, of Parma, of 3Iantua, of Cremona aI(l of Verona; to which some would add those of Genoa and P'icldmonit. A classification founded upon periods of historical devel()hpmnet and predomiinance of methods, may be more serviceable to the ordinary student. Italian painters have had three leading characteristics. Their themes have been pre-eminently Christian; in form the classic has been preferred; while in coloring, including the rich, deep twilight hules of the Venetian, the pale, hazy morning shades of the Umbrian, and the clear, bright noonday radiance of the Florentine, all in keeping with the transparence of their sky, they have excelled in lia'ht and r)illialnt colors. To trace these features of Italian painting as they began with Ciiiialtue, gained ascendancy under Giotto, and developed to perfection of expression in the Tuscan, of form in the Paduan, and of color in the Venetian schools, as they were conmbined in the three great masters modifying through their influence all the schools, and controlling even the mystic Neapolitan and supeistitiouIIs Spanish schools, as they were revived aspiring to a union of excellences in the FEclectic and anmbitious of a new youth in the Natural schools, and finally as they declined till their light went out for generations, will be the instructive history of this chapter. 26 -; 30b ART CRITICISM. SECT. i. THE EARLY REACTION OF THE LOVE OF NATURE AND OF GENIUS IN ART AGAINST FORMIALISMf AND DOGMATISM IN NORTH ERN ITALY. In the age called Romanesque, from the fifth to the twelfth centuries, painting was assimilated to the style of church architecture. Occasional artists, as Giovanni, about A. D. 960, and Petrolino, A. 1). 1110, executed frescoes still admired at Rome by the side of' later works. Yet later the celebrated Monk Bernhard, alluding about A. 1). 1125, to the paintings on convent walls representing pagan and sensual subjects," indicates that a corrupted classic taste was prevailing. In the early part of the thirteenth century the arched panel pictures of the Romanesque churches at Pisa, Lucca, Siena and Florence, began to display an improving taste. These new artists drew portaits of saints, not emaciated and cadaverous like corpses, according to the Latin method; nor as painted puppets decked for a show, after the Byzantine style; but as beings of'flesh and blood, men of like passions with us all." The leader in this formative era, Cimabue, was the originator of the natural school. Vasari, the historian of Italian art, says of Cimabue's portrait of St. Francis, "He drew that which was a new thing in those times from nature as though he knew her the best model." In the fields and crowded streets, he sought models which he studiously copied; and he established a school of drawilg whicih became the germ of modern academies of art. The faults of Cimiabue's style were emaciation and stiffness in his figures; which faults, transmitted to his pupils, are illustrated in the celebrated Beatrice of Dauite. SECT. 2. THE NATURAL STYLE ESTABLISHED UNDER GIOTTO, AND THE RISE OF DISTINCT SCHOOLS UNDER ITS INFLUENCE. As Cimabue was riding one day into the country, he saw a shepherd boy reclining on the ground, engaged in drawing with a bit of slate on a smiooth stone, while his flock browsed around. Ali,;hting and looking at the boy's picture, Cimabue fo)und that lie had executed a mo.ost ratural and admirable likeness of a sphee) standing nigh him. The marks of superior genius in the boy, now only twelve years of age, were so manifest that the artist prevailed on 306 GIOTTO; THE REVINVED NATURAL STYLE,. 307 his fatther, but an humible peasant, to allow him to take him with him to Florence and traili him in his school of drawing and coloring. his proficiency appeared whlen one day he painted a fly on a half-finished picture of' his miaster, so life-like that on his return he brushed his hand over the shrewd boy's work to drive the supposed intruder away. The age was prepared for an independent leader; the D)ominicans, the conservators of art, as the Benedictines were of literature, being eager for improvemient; while the political disputes of the G uelfiis and Ghibellines led Rome to court the good-will of Northern Ttaly. Giotto. like Apelles, was laborious and courteous; he traveled south to Naples, then north to Piedmont, and over the Alps into France; seeking out everywhere the best artists, inquiring into their methods and expl)laining his own. His good nature exteulded even to brutes; a pig who threw him down in a gala-dress receiving this lalghling address: "You are quite right, brute. I, who have gained so much by your bristles, have never given you even a dish of soup." This equanimity carried Giotto through the political conflicts of' his day, preserving the good-will of all parties as a iiman who could best serve his country by entire devotion to his profession. The style of Giotto had its faults as well as its excellences. htis excellences were, conformity to nature in attitudes, dramatic energy in expl)ression, and effective grouping. His St. Francis in attitudes, his Dante in enthusiastic expression, his Last Supper in grouping, and his allegorical paintiligs in the Camipo Santo of Pisa in draiaatic power, are his master works. Like other leading artists, Giotto was a com)prehensive genius; excelling in drawing, sculp ti'ce, architecture, painting, music and poetry. When Pope Bene dict IX. sent to him to furnish a plan for a new church. Giotto, I)autsing a moment in his work, took a pencil, with a sweep of his haind drew a perfect circle, and handing this to the messengers, told themn to bear it back to the Holy Father as his reply. T''he Pope construed aright this testimonial to his general power. and eniiloyNed the artist in his proposed work. Giotto executed firesco, temipera, mosaic and miniature; making great improvements in materials and methods. 31. Angelo used to study with admiration his preserved works, and his frescoes re cently uncovered at Pisa have opened even in modern days a hiew ARPT CRITICISlM. field of art study. Giotto left at Floience not le!s than one hundired pupils. In Naples he foirmed, with Sinlone, an undying friend.hiip, greatly to the advancement of Nealpolitan art. A generation after his death his miethod was introduced into Milan and Venice. SECT. 3. THE TUSCAN SCHOOLS; TIlE DRAMATIC OF FLORENCE AND THE CONTEMIPLATIVE OF SIENA. The influence of Giotto was greatest in his native Tuscany; two classes being roused by his spirit; the coimnercial class of Florence, cosmopolitan ill character, and imoved by the dramatic action ac comupanyingi passion; and the quiet, thoughtful, agricultural peo ple of the valleys aIbout Siena, who loved the contemplative and nature in still life. The secular spirit of the Florentines is seen in the following decree appointing Arnolfo as the architect of their magnificent cathedral: "W rheireas the chief aim of a people of illustrious origin should be to act in such a way that from its seen works every one should recognize its wise and magnanimous councils;" following which preamible is the order to restore the edifice, "in the style of the greatest magnificence which it is possible for human genius to conceive. WAhen, on the other hand, I)uccio of Siena was called to execute his celebrated altar-piece, he pledged himself ill his contract, dated October 9, 130S, "I will execute it accoiding to Iny best ability and as the Lord shall grant ne skill." In the decree passed A. D). 143S, conceering the architect of their Cathedral, the proviso is inserted, "no one even suspected of immorality shall be eligible." These two Tuscan schools of painting, existing before Giotto's dayil, though taking their cast firom his influence true to the spirit of their ancestry, resoited like the ancient Greek to the ever-varying field of nature itself Since, however, the fields of nature seen by the Florentine and the Sienese were most unlike, the Florentine s-tyle was draultic, the Sienese contelmplative. The themes of lboth were religious; but the Florentine sought to make sacred scenes stiring and splendid, while the Sienese sought to render his I)ictures a sermion full of solemn thought; one gave a lively cheerfilness, the other a grave and even sombre hue to the real sainits hlie depicted. In the Florentine school, Spinello Aretino, born 308 'rTIE FLORiENTIJN AND SlENESE SCHOOLS. 309 A. D. lj0'S, more bold and less tender than Giotto, gave the impassioned action of the drama to Florentine painting. Associated with him, as a sort of counterpart, was Buffulmnaco; so fond of the sportive that sacred themes could not put restraint on his wit. Orcagna, born A. D). 1329, under the influence of the perfected s(culpture of Ghiiberti, attained a sublimity of action which made liiiii the precursor of M-. Angelo. As the feminine counterpart of tlih i,a;sculine Olcagna, Angelico, born A. 1). 1387, added as a ieiw (lcl-elt, intense earnestness of manner and unearthly etherealness of miould. There is a bewitching fascination about his frescoes of the Mladoiina which never fades from the memory when once viewed. MI tssacio, born A. D. 14()02, having studied architectural perspective under Biunelleschi, became noted for scientific accuracy of form. He drew fi'ol nude figures, both male and female; as did also Ghirlandaio, born 1449, the teacher of M. Angelo; whose servant women even are princesses in mien and bearing. From him the Florentine school caught this, its last characteristic feature. In Siena, a hundred years before Ciniabue, a fraternity of artists chiefly sculptors existed, out of which grew the order of St. Luke, whose bond of agreement had this preamble: " Since we are Seachers to ignoralit men," and "since in God every perfection is ininently united," "we will in our work earnestly ask the aid of the Di)ivine race." Aiiiong this fraternity in the age of Giotto was Simone Martini, born 1284; whose style under Giotto's teaching was transformed into that natural sweet expression which became a leading type in the established Sienese school. After Simione was Amibrogio, born 1265; in whose greatest work, "The Career of a Franciscan Missionary," the picturing of a terrific hurricane, with lightning and hail, anticipated the most difficult attempt of later landscape painters. In its decline the Sienese was lost for a time in the Umnbrian school. ART CRITICISfM. SECT. 4. TIlE SCHOOL OF PADUA DISTINGUISIhED BY CLASSIC FORMS, TIlE DIRECTLY ASSOCIATED SCHOOL OF VERIONA AND FERRAIA, AND THE INDIRECTLY CONNECTED SCHOOLS OF MILAN, BOLOGNA, IOIDENA AND PAREIA. In the broad long valley between the Alps and the Apennines, eiubhracing all Northern Italy, are four cities, Padua, Verona, Ialtna an(d'Milan, and four small States, Ferrara, Bologna, Modena and Parma, closely associated in the history of' art. T'he special pride of Padua was its University, exalted by the genius of Galileo about the close of the sixteenth century. The tendency of science is to precision in formn, and under its shadow artists strive after geometrical and anatomical exactness. Giotto visited Padua, and his principle that nature should be made the painter's model, led Guarcento, about A. D. 1350, to add to the special study of form the dramatic expression of the Florentine school and the brilliant coloriing of the Venetian. The great miaster who fixed the style of the Paduan school was Squarcione, born A. D. 1396. Regarding the ancient Grecian models as a truer type for imitation than living men, since they were ideals founded on the real, he traveled as far as Greece, collected specimens of' the antique, made numerous drawings, and, returning, established an academv of desig,n, into which not less than one hundred pupils were gathered. His teaching cultivated a classic style and a preference for mythological themes; giving an excellent training to young sculptors, but leading in painting to statue-like forms ghostly in aspect. At 3Iantua, about a generation after Squarcione, MAantegna, called the successor of Squarcione in the Paduan school, improved on his style, givinr grander and filler proportions to his figures, and a greater richness to their drapery. Hiis best works, now at Paris and at Hampton Court, England, exhibit elegance as well as breadth of design. At Verona and at Ferrara a double influence was exerted; the Venetian school promnpting brilliance of coloring, and the Paduan inspiiiii,g grace in formn among its artists. Even Milatn in the extremie west adopted the Paduan model; a tendency which at a later period invited Lionardo, the most thoroughly Grecian of the great masters. 310 THE SCHOOLS OF PADUA AND VENICE. The classic spirit was yet moie niarkied at Bologna; da Gubbio, - contemporary of Dante and Giotto, being ranked by Raphael etween Perugino of Umbria and Bellini of Venice. During ,he youth of Lionardo, MIelozzo was the recognized head of the tyle of ceiling painting, called by Italian artists "Sotto-in-su;" )r below-in-above; in which figures are represented ascending erect, with their feet toward the beholder, the most difficult of fore:hortening. The schools of Mlodena and Parma were unimportant until the age of Correggio. SECT. 5. THE SCHOOL OF VENICE; DEVOTED TO THE ATTAINMIENT OF RICNIINESS AND BRILLIANCE OF COLORING. Through the trade which had enriched in turn the Egyptianiis, Grecks and Romans, the Venetians gained a taste for Oriental art. In architecture the Saracenic-Byzantine, and in painting the rich coloring of the Byzantine became favorite. Under the influence of a more refined culture, gold, crimson and azure, softened into the darker but even richer purple and maroon. The habits of the people revelling at night in the subdued glare of torch-light on the water, cultivated a fondness for that bewitching fascination of dim outline in gorgeous shade which is the prevailing cast of Venetian painting. IWhile that early taste came from the East, its improved culture was derived from Germany. Commercial intercourse, political affiliation and kindred love for festivities and parades, tended to this latter association. Antonio, a pupil of Giotto, attempted in vain to supplant the Byzantine; the clear outline and transparent color of the Florentine not comlnmending itself to either peop)le or artists. The dark shading, however, of the German, and the cheerfulness of the Dutch, introduced by Giovanni Alamnanus, or John the German, early in the fourteenth century, became nationalized among the lagoons of the island city. Gentile da Fabriano, born A. D. 1370. highly dramatic in his themes and in the posture and expression of his figures, yet rich and even gay in coloring and fascinating in aerial effects, became an authority not only at Venice, but also at Rome; M. Angelo, a century and a half later, regarding him as a prophet of the future; saying that " Gentile's works as well as his namne were his autobiography." The Vencetian school attained superior rank when about A. D. 311 ART CRITICISM. 1450, oil was introduced as a vehicle. At an early period the Venetian painters had followed the Greek method, of layilig, on their canvas first a dark background, adding next their darker shades, and then miaking thieir lighter hues and tinits superficial; the use of wax as a vehicle giving a partial tran.sparenee which allowed the underlying colors to show through and modify those above them. The revived Italian and Fleiiiish method made the foundation-color light; since, with a gummyIi vehicle having little transparence, an underlying white gave relief and softness to darker colors above. The use of oil permitted a return to the Greek nmethod, allowed by its transparence, depth and blending of overlying colors, and giving the soft, dark shade and indistinctness of outline preferred at Venice. From this era dates the superior success of the Venetian school; the Florentine being averse to the sluggish flow and labored kneading peculiar to oil as well as to the darkness of shades produced bv it. The themes of Venetian artists still called for a quiet dignity; even their scripture personages being merchant l)princes. Bellini, born A. 1). 1501, the great master of this school, excelled in architectural backgrounds; a feature natural to a city having no streets or suburbs adorned with foliage. This influence, associated with the "alluring, color at Venice," begun by Gentile and perfected by Titian, Fuseli thinks, led the way to landscape painting; since it demonstrated the methods of securling its two leading characteristics, "the harmniony due to bil;iii.e of colors," and the ' breadth of local tints. " SECT. 6. THE UMIBRIAN SCHOOL OF CENTRAL, AND THE NEAPOLITAN OF SOUTHERN ITALY; FORMAL IN STYLE AND MYSTIC IN RELIG IOUS SPIRIT. In common with the North the style of painting prevalent in central and southern Italy was in drawing formnal as opposed to natural, and in design mystic as contrasted with the practical. Two causes contributed to maintain these characteristics. As in Egypt so at Rome, the Orthodox models for religious themes being fixed, a radical revolutioi alone could produce the requisite change. The old Latin, as opposed to the Byzantine, prevailed; destitute of ana toinical correctness in expression, and lacking both body and distinettiess in color. The Ronian p)eol)le, moreover, unlike the com 312 THE UM1BRIAN AND NEAPOLITAN SCHOOLS. 313 mnercial and adventurous inhabitants of Pisa, Florence and Venice, ncver went abroad to borrow ideas from other nations. 'Thle spirit of inystely, fostered during the crusades, had its speci.il seat in the retired valley of Umbria, north of Rome; whose people. Pliny states, were regarded the aboriginal tribe of Italy; the Greek colonists of Etruria calling them Oimbrioi, as remnants of the antediluvian race. This ancestral tradition, making thema special objects of Divine interposition, fostered by their seclusion, .made Umbria the natural home of the ascetic and mystic brotherhoo(l of the Fianciscans. The art-spirit of this order invited visits fi'on Ciniabue and Giotto: and subsequently three currents of influence nmodified the school; one from Florence, leading to the study of nature's models; a second, through Ancona, introducing Venetiaii taste in coloringi; and a third, through Urbino, prompting to thenmes of the supernatural. The head of the Umbrian or early Roman school was Piero, of the Franciscan brotherhood, born A. D. 1400. Trained at Florence; settling first at Perugia, on the Tuscan or western side of tie Tiber, he afterward crossed into Umbria. He excelled in the three features of the natural style introduced by Giotto: persp)ective, foreshortening and the securing of breadth between his figures. Among his pupils, the precursors and instructors of the great masters, were Luca, who in his "Last Judgment" anticipated 3I. Angelo; Antonio, noted for his dissections and anatomical exactness in drawing; and Verrochio, who had as his pupils Lionard(o, the first of the three great masters, Perugino, the teacher of Raphael, and Lorenzo di Credi, one of the chief lights in the future of the Umnbrian school. Perugillo, so called firom his native town, born A. D. 1446, trained first in Umbria then at Florence, was devoted entirely to religious themes; his early works being of the ascetic Umbrian type; those of his mature years of the secular Florentine cast, wlhile some works of his later life were wanton and vulgar. The most finished and pure of the school was Lorenzo di Credi, born 1459. Opposed to Perugino's wantonness, he rejected the nude entirely; taking as the moral law of his art this sentiment of the reformer, Sivouariola: "Creatures are beautiful in proportion as they participate in and approximate to the beauty of the Creator; and perfection of form is relative to beauty of mind. Bring 27 0 ARiT CRITiCISM. hither two wo;..en equally perfect in person; let one be a saint and the other a sinner; you shall find that the saint will be more generally loved than the sinner, and that on her all eyes will be directed." The sweetest of the galaxy of Umnbrian painters, was Francesco Francia, born 1450; the congenial companion, the virtual master and afterward thie fiiendly rival of Raphael. The Neapolitan, fiom the earliest times associnted with the Roiman school, shared with it the influence of the Florentine. Tohiaso de Stefani, contemporary with Ciiubue, and Simone with Giotto, caught the spirit of the revived natural style. in the fif'teenth century Antonio Solario, and Antonello da IMessina, the intioducer of oil as a vehicle, gave character to the art of Southern Italy. The characteristic style of this school was established by Andrea Sabbatiie, a pupil of Raphael, and a true Unmbrian; its chief features being an unearthly calm, devoid of passion in forms, and a faint ethereal hue in coloring. SECT. 7. THE A(GE OF THE TIIHREE GREAT M3ASTERS, LIONARDO DA VINCI, NIICHEL ANGELO AND RAPHAEL SANZIO. As in Greece Phidias and Apelles were produced after ages of developmient, so the three great masters in Italian painting appeared after two centuries of the continued impulse given by Giotto. In themselves paragons of industry, they excelled because they entered the field at an era when Italian intellect had in every department of hunian pursuit reached its acme. Lionardo, called da Vinci, firom a small towni near Florence, where he was born A. D. 1442, placed at an early age under the tuition of Verocchio. after some months showed his power in painting by an angel in this artist's Baptism of Christ; which led Verocchlio to throw down his brush in chagrin, "that a child should so excel' him." Lionarido was noted for personal beauty and strength; he mastered the abstruse laws of the mathematics, anatomy, optics, chemistry and mechanics as they applied to art; and became a voluminous writer in varied science, as well as a skillful musician and poet. In drawing, his industry knew no limit; his pocket sketch-book receiving daily new contributions firom his ranll)les and reveries. In sculpture his nude Leda is admired for its chaste expression and exquisite symmetry, especially in the head. At the 314 LIONARDO DA VINCI AND M. ANGELIO. age of thirty-one he was at the same timie head of the civil engilleers building at Mlilan thc aqueduct so fiamed; and also playting the friesco of' The Lord's Supper," perhaps the highest woik of Clirisitiian art. TIc character and method of the great artist were illustrated wlhein the prior of the convent on whose wall it was executed coiII)lIiiie(d to the Duke of his dilatoriness. Lionairdo wrote to the Dilke thlit he was " still in want of two heads." One of these, the Saxvi()url, he "could not hope to find on earth. " For the second, t!lat of Jiudas, he said he "would miake diligent search; tand, if he coitltl not (do better after this effort, there would still remain to himi tlhe head of tlhe impertinent and annoying prior." Lionarido represcents Jesus in the act of saying,; One of you shall betray 1Ii(." On his right sits, first, grieving John; second, suspicious Jud,(l, elutchinig the bag third, impulsive Peter, reaching behind Judas to whlisper to John; fourth, cautious Andrew, with both h:ilds raised; fifth, stern Janmes the Less, pressing Peter forward in lhis inquiry; and sixth, guileless Bathololiiiew, statnding and l(eaiI,g oil the table. On Christ's left is, first, doubtin(g Tlhomas, apl)pealingly raising his finger; second, conscientious James the Gi'eaiter, starting back; third, anxious Philip, layilig his hand on his breast; fourth, astute MIatthlew, inifoiiiiin, the two disciples beyond himi of Christ's remark; fifth, t-ragic Thaddeus, passionatcly gesticulating; and sixth, nervous Siiiionr, listeningi to M3atthew. Slpendiniig his life between Florence and Milan, dying at last near 1aliis, Lionardo accepted few public contracts. HIis characteristic excellences were his delicate taste in desigoii, the anatonical correctIhess of his drawing, the faultless gradationi of colors in shtade a-lnd tizet which imade himi the father of chiaroscuro, and the labored fiislh of eveiy part of his work. Lionardo was pre-eininently the scholatr-artist; the iloniuments of his perfected genius being few, but miodels for all time. -Iichel Angelo Buonarotti, of noble parentage, born A. D. 1474, was trained by Gliilandaio, fiomn fourteen to seventeen years of age, in drawing and coloring. At this era the Medici were collectinr, exhumed statues, and sculpture was the love of Aig('-elo's boyhood. Hle contended against the critics that the inodeiriis could cqual the ancients. To test his prin-il)les he exeeuted a statue, broke off and hid one armn, and had the statue 31-5 ART CRITICISM. buried; his gardener pretending afterward that he had found an antique. WAhen his opponents were sufficiently comnmitted in its praise, Angelo brought out the arm; showing that tile two were made by the same, and that a modern hand. Devoting himself for a time to this art, Pope Julius insisted on eniploying hini to firesco the ceiling of the Sixtine Chapel in the Vatican Palace; and in twenty months his series of matchless conceptions were finished. Never had such unearthly scenes, chaos and restored earth, Paradise and infernal gloom, been made so real. The impatient Pope insisted again and again on the temporary removal of the scaffolding that he might anticipate the effect of the completed works; while Raphael, then in his prime at thirty years of age, was in ecstasies of unselfish admiration, and exclaimed that "he thanked God he was born in the time of Michel Angelo Buonarotti!" The end opposite the entrance was reserved for the Last Judgment. For twenty years Angelo was employed on varied works; when he began this master-piece. devoting to it only hours of choice leisure. Paul III. criticised the nudity of the figures; without effect on the high-spirited master, for forty years acknowledged monarch in the kingdom of art. The master of ceremonies annoyed him; but the next day he found his unmistakable portrait borne by one of the lost in the infernal regions, with asses' ears on his head and a serpent twined about his body. The Pope besought the despot in art to relieve his victim; but he replied to this effect, "Your Holiness may release a man from purgatory but not fiom the lower prison-house." The special characteristics of M. Angelo as an artist were the grandeur and boldness of his conception, which made him seek the majestic in sculpture, the grand in architecture, and in painting the awful. He was impatient o' the restraint and labored kneading of oil, and preferred fresco; in which he could lay on his colors at a dash of the brush. He was overbearing toward rivals, and terribly severe on disparaging censors; yet he was genial and generous to appreciative critics and to aspiring pupils. The third of the galaxy of great masters, Raphael Sanzio, born A. D. 1483, was early trained by his father, an indifferent painter; firom twelve to twenty hlie was under Perugino, and practised his art for some time i' Perug,ia, following the stiff ascetic style of the 316 PAPHAEI AND ITTS CHARACTERISTICS. Ui!,ri.an schlool. At twenty-one lie visited Florence; when a new woildl opened to himn in the cartoons of Lionardo and M. Angelo. Self-rieliant, in three years he painted about thirty altarpieces; executing most of the portraits and Madonnas which now make his famie. At twenty-five Raphael was called to Rome. In Umbria he had surpassed his master in the dreamy supernatural; and at Florence he had rivaled Lionardo in naturalness of expression and in exquisite mnoulding. At Rome, studying the nude, he caught the energy and breadth of MI. Angelo, adding to it a classic grace; and in this third and climiactic style his manly genius and womanly heart so won on M. Angelo that the aged master commended Raphalel to the Pope as his superior in his special art. The firescoes known as the " Stanze" or chambers of Raphael, in the Vatican patlace. were coimmenced while M. Angelo was painting the ceiling of the Sixtiiie Chapel; and "The School of Athens," the adnliration of critics and artists of succeeding generations, shows the progress of the maturing aritist. From this time private orders crowded upon Raphael; and he became the head of a school, whose miaster-spirits he employed to woik lup his designs. HIis sketches and unfinished drawings, after his early death at thirty-seven, more valuable without color than if finished by his putipils, are among his choicest works. Though niot, like Lionardo and Angelo, a master in sculpture and architecture, in painting Raphael perfected one department after another, conceiving his ideal firom real scenes. HIlis method he thus explained to a fiiend "To paint a figure truly beautiful it nmight be necessary that I should see many beautiful forms; but I avail nmyself also of certain ideas that come into my mind." He exemplified this statement when he drew on a barrel-head the exquisite form of a peasant mother and her child, the model for his Madonna della Seggiola. As Mfrs. Jameison and others have well urged, Raphael was puie in morals. The rise together of three men like Lionardo, Angelo an(l Raphael. acoll omprehensive masters and all capable of such labor and attaining such skill because none of their powers were weakened and wasted by sensual indulgence, indicates that no artist, however great in genius, can be a leading master, unless, as Cicero declared of the orator, "he be a good man." 27. 317 ART CRITICISM. SI,'T. S. TIIE SCTIOOLS OF NORTHERN ITALY AS INFLUENCED BY LI()N-.kRL,O, AND OF CENTRAL AND SOUTHERN ITALY BY M. ANGELO AND RAPhIAEL. The superiority of the three great masters was only the culinina tion of an improvement that had been steadily progressing for two centuries. The Florentine had reached a standard which could only receive a fini.shing touch; the Unmbrian, which had succeeded to the Sienese, through Lorenzo hlad felt Lionardo's influence; while the schools of Northern and Southern Europe, especially of Veinice, more out of the centre of gradual advance, were in a con dition to receive a new and decided forward impulse. The influence exerted )by the three masters was widely dissimilar. Lionar'do, quiet and scholarly, gave a higher intelligence and a more finished execution to artists already able, and awakened a general spirit of culture aniong the artists of Italy, France, and even of Spain and Geiinany. At Milan a school of finished ari.ists arose like Luini and Oggione, who followed his style; while at ])Iaris he left a marked impress on French paintinjg. Michel Angelo, a man of toweiniig genius rather than of labored culture, would not condescend to take pupils; yet he had imitators beyvond even professed iiistructors. hfis grandeur of design and intense action aroused to new life the waning dramatic school of Floienee, and broke in upon the stereotyped pomp of the Venetian school, leadigiii Titian. Giorgione and Tintoretto to make M. Ang(elo's dirawing underlie their gorgeous coloriig. RIpl)liael, learnigill from every imaster by intuition, and unable to teach the principles of his own success, since he could not himself analyze them, attracted pul-ils of genius kindred to his own, who by intuition like his .caughIt his style. In the Florentine school, Fra Bartolon-ieo, in the Venetian, Fra Sebastiano, and in the Sienese, Francesco Fraicia admired and copied his method. At Roiie kindred Spiits were eniploycd -by) him in working up his designs, who after his death established the Ronian school; while at Naples one of his pupils b(~c:ii the head of the modern Neapolitan school. Comninentcing at the North, five centres illustrate this influence. Corre(ri(,), born at a little town of the same name, after studying a short time at -Aantua met some works of Lionardo and Raphael; when, inspired by the industry of the one and the intuition of the ,,) I s TIIE IMPROVED VENETIAN SCHIOOI,. other, he exclaimed while lookiing at one of Raphael's masterpieces, "Anch' io son pittore! " "I also am a painter." Ihis excellences were, breadth of view between his figures, a peculiar power of gradation in light and shade, united to M. Angelo's form, Rlaphael's expressiveness and Titian's hue. Self-educated, he went to Parmna, and left those monuments of genius which have given that little city an undying fame. Hlis easel-pieces at Parlna and Rome have a fascination beyond Raphael's; while his frescoes in the convent and cathedral of Parma seem like the very opening of heaven, so transparent is the sky, so sweet are the cherubs and so seraplic the saints floating above. In the Tuscan school Fra Bartolomeo attained Lionardo's finislhed( conception; Raphael drew him from his seclusion; and his nli(le St. Sebastian stamiped him as an original and able Florentine. With less judgnliuent niIost Tuscan painters chose 3I. Angelo as their model; and unable to a)pprehend his spirit verified the remark of li'useli, that " 5I. Anigelo lived to see his style perverted in the Tiscin as well as in the Venetian school.' In the AVeietian school the influence of the three great masters is most seen. Prior to this age the Venetian painters, absorbed wholly in stu(dy of color, designed nothing beyond "fine old Venetian gentlemen." The genius of M. Angelo and of Raphael awakened other ideas of men and of women; and led to the grand action of the former, and the expressive loveliness of the latter. Giorgione, born 1477, trained under Bellini, the last of the old Venetian masters, studied Lionardo's works and attempted his boldness of outline, action and expression, adding also his grading of colors; introducing an entirely new style of Venetian painting. Tiziano, born also A. D. 1477, becoming intimate with Giorgione, caulght the impulse of his genius, and at his early death finished his )ictlires left incomplete. Hlis first success was in portrait; his ha)pIy choice of attitudes, fireshness of expression, and finish of features making hinm a favorite with royal sitters. Visiting Rome, 1\. Angelo brought to view Titian's failure in forms; exclaiming, "Whlat a pity that Titian does not draw as well as he paints!" and deelarin-gi' Titian would have been the first painter in the world had he only been early grounded in correct drawing." Improving on this eriticism, Titian devoted himself to landscape; attaining in ideal background what Kugler calls "the glorification of earthly 319 APRT CRITITI.M. existence;"' adding also real scenery, prompting Fuseli's declaration, "Laiid.cape, wllcther it be considered as the transcript of a spot, or the rich combination of cong,enial objects, or as the scene of a phenomienon, dates its origin fironm hinm." Titian's fault, jealousy of rivalship, made Jacopo Robusti; called "Tintoretto," or the little dyer, firom his father's occupation. ]Born A. D. 15]2, entering at an early age Titian's studio, he was soon dismissed with the mnaster's stinging remark, "That he would never make anything but a dauber." Conscious of genius, Tintoretto by self-culture attained such success that he dared to write over his door, "I1 desegno di Michel Angelo; il coloiito di TizianoI;" "the drawing of Mlichel Angelo. the coloring of Titian." He studied perspective and foreshortening by suspending plastercast miodels and drawing thenm in vaiied positions; and he attained chiaroscuro by suspending those same iniodels at night and pailnting their shadows cast by lamnplight on a richly-colored backgriounld. With an imagination almost rampant in design, especially ini coiinposition, retaining the gorgeous Venetian coloring and adding his new power in drawing and shading, Tintoret fascinated the lively and fantastic Venetian people. His Paradise fills the largest calvas ever covered, being eighty-four feet three inches broad asd thirty-four feet high. Though painting in oil, he worked so rapidly that hle was called "I1 fulioso Tintoretto." Of his fertile invention h-is admirer Ruskin. says, "There is not the commonest object to which he will not attach a range of suggestiveness almost limitless; nor a stone, leaf or a shadow, nor anything so small, but he will give it meaning and oracular voice." The last leader in the Venetian school was Paul, called Veronese from his native city Verona. Born A. D. 1528, he studied at Venice the works of Titian and Tintoret, and united some of their improvemnents to the old Venetian ideas. In place of their open Lky, he returned to architectural backgrounds. HIis immense canvas, )icturing incidents in Jesus' life with Oriental gorgeousness, mnark the decline of the Venetian school. Fiom llsome, Giulio, called Roiiiano. the virtual head of the ncw or Ronian sclhool, four years after Raphael's death removed to Maintua. WAithdiawn fromnt his master's chastening influence, he adopted ta stylc of coarse elegance, akin to that of the ancient PRoiman; and foulid a lo-t of followers to perpetuate this perverted '01 2 0 THE EARI,Y SPANISH SCHOOLS. modern Roman school. At Bologna three followers of Raphael, Priiiiaticcio, Tibaldi and Nicolo dell' Abate, prepared the way for the Eclectic school. The other pupils of' Raphael gave character to the Neapolitan school; Penni, the first, dying just as his influence was established; Sabbatini, its virtual head, introducing the natural drawing and winning sweetness of his master; while Polidoro Caldara fell into the later and easily perverted style of Raphlael's pupils, a copying of the antique in form with an ill-associated picturesqueness in grouping. SECT. 9. THE SPANISH SCHOOLS; FORMAL AND MYSTIC IN STYLE; HISTORICALLY ASSOCIATED WVITIt THE SCHOOL OF SOUTHERN AND CENTRAL ITALY; CULMINATING IN VELASQUEZ AND MURILLO OF SEVILLE. In Spain the demands of religion raised up native artists in every age; but it required the later power of Spanish nationality to give dignity to Spanish art. It was under Charles V. and Philip II., who in their long reigns, from 1516 to 1598, were devoted to art as well as to general progress, that artists like Velasquez and MIuiillo arose, that Mladrid was made the national capital, and the first stone laid in the Escurial, destined to be the receptacle for generations of the best works of Spanish artists. Pacheco, the fither-in-law of Velasquez, himself a painter and author of a history of Spanish painting, is a living embodiment of the spirit of Spanish art. Praising the idea of drawing firom nature,'le yet boasts of his authority from the Holy Inquisition to visit the studios of artists, galleries of paintings and printshops, and to see that nothing not in accordance with the rules of the Catholic faith should appear in the representations made by artists of sacred subjects. Condemning the nude, he criticised with a double-pointed logic M. Angelo's license in his Last Judgment, in picturing "the angels without wings and the saints without clothes;" adding, "although the former do not possess the one and the latter will not have the other, yet since angels without wings are not known to us, and our eyes do not allow us to see the saints without clothes, as we shall hereafter, there can be no doubt that this representation is improper." Finally warning his brother artists of even that advanced day, he cites l case of a painter subjected to a severe penance for painting the blessed Virgin "with a 0* 321 ART CRITICISM. lIoopl)ed petticoat, a pointed sl)pencer, a saffron-colored head-dress, p;nlt nlLtette ii( a f'rin ged doublet." In its earlv histoir the Gothic or PRomiannesque prevailed in the North of Spain, and the Byzantine among the Moors of thle South; Sfragossa being thle seat of the former, Seville of the latter, while Vnaleiincia was intermediate. 'The Cathediral of Saragossa, decorated by Torrento, illustrated tlhe st-le p)rior to Giotto; Gothic influence prevailing in Spain as in Northern Italy. At a later period German artists added natural liess in diawing, the soimbie Spanish cast still prevailing; of which Berniiulez. a Spanish writer on art, says, "The coloring is not so bright as that of thle old Geriman painters; but there is in it a sort of softness like in effect to a veil thrown over their pictures." Yet later an) Italian s)il-it preva,iled at Sairagossa. The school of Aragon and Castile proper begai with Pedro de Aponte. under Ferdinanid and Isabella, when, iii 1479, the seat of tlhe court was removed to Cas.tile. Charles V., a little later, biought the be.st Italian artists to Ciastile, he himiself having be. coIIeI enamlored of the sty-le of Titian. The Esseurial I'alace at Mi(adrid is now rich with Titian's finest works. The pride of this school was Iorale., born ab)out A. D. 1500; called "the divine" because of the ethereal aspect of his sufferinG Jesus and " lMadonna. dolorosas." Pacheco compares his rich and mellow coloriilig to that of Corieggio; stylingo the expression of his Christ a " sublime spirit of self-sacrifice and resigned love." The truly religious )painteis of Spain, and the school of old Aragon and Castil., closed with Moralles. At Valencia, an ancient seaport, whose cathedral stands on the site of a Roiiian teimple to D)iana and of a MAoorish miosque, Byzantine and Venetian influence prevailed until Joanes, born A. ]). 152'3, intioduced into religious themes the natural style, akin to Raplhael's. After him followed Navarette, born A. D. 1526, called "E1 ~iu(Jo." the deaf-imute; another illustration that a special gift for plastic iart is bestowed on the deaf, as a special gift for miusic on tlhe blind. Having studied under Titian, he was employed by Iliilip II. His fondness for drollery is shown in the order as to solne of his sacied pieces obtained by the Inquisitors: "the artist shall not introduce any dog or cat, or other unbecoming figure; but all shall be saints, or such as incite to devotion." When 22 VELASQUEZ AND MURILLO. Titian's Last Supper, painted for the refectory of the Escurial, was fo:und too large and IPhilip ordered it to be cut to fit the s)ace E1 \Mudo by signs begged the king to spare it and place it elsewheie; pledging himself in six months to make a perfect copy of the requisite proportions, or to lose his head if li he failed. Among the able artists of this school was a Greek called "El Greco." ]'lhe most noted was Ribalta; who, stung by his niaster's repulse on asking the hand of his daughter, went to Italy for sonme years, returned, and in his iniaster's absence, painted a hasty sketlch on his easel. The old man coining home gazed at the painiting with adtiir-atioii, and exclaiimed to his daughter, "That is the man I would have you iaii-ry; and not that dauber Ribalta!" At Seville, Pedro Caiiipaia, born at Brussels A. D. 1503, but educated in Italy, executed a Descent from the Cross, whose two Spaiinish ehaa(:tcriStics are illustrated, by Murillo gazinlg at it for lhours and exclliiiiiiig, " I ami waitilng till these nleti have taken down our Lord!" and b,' Pacheco who said, "One would be afiaid to be alonie with it in a gloolly chapel." Luis de Vargas, bornl 1602, forniiiig in Italy a love for the natural, was the real f(itnlder of tlhe improved school of Seville an almost Raphael-like love(liness ehaiaeteriziiig many of his figures. In Pablo de Cesle(les, born 1538, the Spanish Coriregio, this school culminated. IT.\ing acquired in Italy the method of Correggio, he engrafted its f(,atuires upon Spanislh art. I)achleco calls him "one of the best colorists in SI)ain;" and says, "The school of Andalusia owe to himi the fine tone of their flesh tint." Roelos, born about A. D). 1560), was in design and color the Spanish Tintoret. In his St. Anne he pictured youthful Miary in a ro.e-coloied tunic and a blue mantle studded with gilt stars, with a cat and dog and basket of playthings near her. Next came Pacheco, born about A. D). ] 579, more of a critic than an artist, but a good teacher. With him flourished Turbaran, born A. D). 1598, who painted from nature and excelled in drapery; and whom Philip IV. complimented with the title "Pintor del Rey y Rey de los pintores," "Painter of the King and King of the painters." Diego Velasquez, born A. 1). 1599, a youth of bold and independ(lent genius. entering the studio of Pacheco, found the gentle rules of the acadeimy the easy bridle his free spirit needed. At the age of about twenty he had originated improved methods; train 323 AR,T CRITICISM. ing a boy to act as a model in postures and expression, and sketch ing from him heads in charcoal on white or tllue ground and paint ing in colors. In 1628 Rubens visited Madrid, met Velasquez and gave him hints. The next year he visited Italy and studied Tintoret at Venice, and M. Angelo and Raphael at Rome. Returning, Philip IV. gave him a studio in his palace, in which he would sit for hours to see him work. In 1648 he employed him to visit Italy and purchase paintings for the Escurial Palace; and during this excursion he executed his famed portrait of Pope Innocent X. In 1656 he painted his masterpiece, "The Theology of Art," noted especially for its linear and aerial perspective; with which the king was so delighted that taking up a brush, he painted upon the artist's breast in the picture the cross of St. Iago, the highest honor in his gift. Bartolom( Esteban Murillo, the second of the two great Spanish masters, was to Velasquez, both in friendly intercourse and in style of art, what Raphael was to MI. Angelo. Born at Seville, A. 1)D. 1616, he learned to execute coarse sketches for the country-people at fairs. Hearing of Vandyke's visit to Madrid, he painted a large numberof cheap pictures for traders to the American colonies; which realized the sum needed for his tour. These are now treasured in many an old church in Spanish South America. Received with great kindness by Velazquez at Madrid, Murillo was permitted to co)py the best paintings of Titian, Rubens, Vandyke, Ribera and Velasquez; when, returning to Seville, hle spent the remainder of his life a self-taughLt artist. Like Raphael, MIurillo passed through three different styles; the first entitled "frio," or cold; the second "calido," or warin; the third "vaporoso," or misty. The first, practised about three years, was vigorous in design but coarse in color and finish. At thirty-two Miurillo married an Andalusian lady of rank and fortune; which marriage gave a new character to his mode of life and equally to his style. His vigorous drawing was softened by a polished finish, which continued fior ten or twelve years. In 1658 he planned ian art academy; in whose atmosphere the vigor of his youth returned, and frieed him from the trammnels of artificial society imposed by his imarriagle. To the bold design and vigorous drawing of his first were uc,nited the finished coloring and sweet grace 324 TIlE EC,EFCTIC SCfIOOT, OF TIl E CARRACCI. 325 of his second style; while over both was thrown by his genius a drIieaImy mist of ftscinatting attractiveness. )urillo's works were almost numberless. Like Raphael's, his paIintings were preferred to those of his imorie scientific rivals; for while Velasquez was beyond rivalry in all the higher walks of art, MAlrillo's scenes of social life and themes of sentiment were more wilining. War, too, gave a wide dispersion to the works of .Iurillo; and though a critic like Ruskin may protest against the comparatively high rank assigned to Murillo in France, England, Geriiiainy and even Russia, and call him a "base" artist, his style will always be a favorite with popular observers. SECT. 10. THE ECLECTIC SCHOOL OF BOLOGNA, IMITATIVE THOUGH SELECT; ESTABLISHED BY THE CARRACCI, ADORNED BY DOMERI CHINO AND GUIDO, CLOSING WITH CARLO DOLCE. Kugler argues that when the culminating and climactic period of art has been reached in any country nothing else than a decline can be expected. In Spain the reaction, after the two great masters who could not be rivaled, was immediate and almost collplete. In Italy the decline took another turn. As in Greece nien of genius turned to a new field when any one was exhausted, the epic, lyric and dramatic in literature, and architecture, sculpture and painting in art, successively culmninating and declining, so was it with successive styles and schools of painting in Italy. When decline began, two classes of'minds struggled against the downward tendency; the Eclectic school of the Carracci, and the Naturalistic school of Caravaggio. These schools had a mnerit, and their history, an instruction worthy of special consideration. While in every school of Italy, except Venice, the followers of Lionarido, Angelo and Raphael were becoming mere copyists, at B,logna, Lod(lovico Carracci, born A. D. 1555, became possessed with the idea, that, since the great masters had perfected painting each in one line, the way to improve art was to select and combine their several excellences. Two nephews, Agostino, self-taught, and Annibale, a student of varied styles, united with himn in establishing a school at Bologna; which received the derisive sobriquet of Inc(iani,1iati, or, Walkers in leading strings. Lodovico, popular and impressive, was the presiding head; Agostino, theoretic an(l analytic, was the chief teacher of principles; and Annibale, 28 ART CPITICTSM. ready and skillful with the pencil and brushli, was the practical illus trator of the systcia. The itiodels of the school were set forth by Agostiiio in fourteen lines of Italian verse; including " the drawing of Roiiie, the action and shading of Venice, the dignity in coloring of Loinbardy, the terrible energy of M. Angelo, the true natural of Titiain. the sovereign purity of Correggio, the exact symmetry of Raphael, the decorum and foundation color of Tibaldi, the inventionr of the learned Primaticcio, the grace of Parmiigiano;" while Nicolo, an imitator of Raphael, was made the model of all excellences. The finished works of Lodovico were few, and excelled only in certain details. The two principal woirks of' Agostino show the labored effort of a theoretic teacher to be true in every respect to his principle. Annibale's numerous paintings display excellences of the great miasters, but have an artificial aspect akin to a theatrical style in public speaking. The great merit of Annibale is the landscape hbackrround in his historical pieces. Eiglrli.sh critics have appreciated the Eclectic school nmore highly than have the GeIrman. Sir Joshua Reynolds wrote: "Style in ]aititiiig is the saiie as in wriiting,; a power over miaterials whether w,)ids oi colois by which concep)tion or sentiiment is conveyed. And in this Lodovico Carracci, I iiiean in his best works, appears to nie to approach the nearest to perfection. His unaffected breadth o)f li,ght and shadow, the siimplicity of coloring, which, holding its 1n)r()er iatik, does not draw aside the least part of the attention fr)ni the subject, and the solemn effect of that twilight which seems diffused over his pictures, appear to ime to correspond with giave and dignified subjects better than the nmore artificial brilliancy of sunshine which enlightens the pictures of Titian." Of Ainibhale's "Deseent from the Cross," John Bell says: "The drawing of the figure of our Saviour is at once the most learned in point of anatomy and the truest to nature of any that I have ever seen." In the Eclectic School pupils excelled their masters. Zamrpieri, called Doiiienichino, born A. D. 1581, developed a style of artless loveliness in drawing and coloring so akin to that of Raphlael tlhat Poussin ranke(l him next to that master. Albani, born A. D. ] 578, attained a peculiar finish in style; his themes, such as Venus and the Graces, g(ainiug hinm personal adnirers and pupils. In his old age a deepeir,entinient p)ossess0, t l(ili i li- thlenjes 326 GU,FERCIN( O A1) GIJIDO. becacme Christian. The star of this school was Guido Reni, born A. ). 1575. To niattni-l vigor in drawing, he added that joyousness of ex)pression whicll characterizes his principal works. Il hIis Aurora" the ipl)ression of swift ilmotion in the galloping, steeds, the rolling wheels, the torch of Lucifer blown back, and the forvward strain of ALurora in her clhariot, fascinates the beholder as if the scene were reil. In his last days Guido painted rapidly for imoney; taking on a third style, often devoid of sentimient and unfinihlied in execution, while vet his instinctive conception of beautifal forius gave a charm to his works. -Next after Guido, Barbieri, called Guercino or Squinter. held tlhe pali at Bologna, despite his defective sight. Like Raphael al,d Guido, he developed three different styles at different periods of' life; a falet which hald a natural cause. Youth of genius bothl a: wr1iters, speokers and artists, develop an uinstudie(ld power, attricetive for its niatniilness and impressive foiiio its enei-gy; but which does not beair too firequent repetition. Such miinids, finding theimselves soon outstripp)ed by miere plodders whose every effort is an idvance, eitlher siiik into listless iiiaction, or nerve themselves to the thorough study and practice of a second or manhood style. Preturning success and consciousness of increasing power invites to prilicely expenditure; and a rapid instead of finished execution is deinanded. Gueicino, like,al)lphael and Guido, beg(in with a style of unchastened Nvigor; as he advanced he soiught the finished culture of established schools; and wlhen overburdened with pecuniaiyv demaiinds he beclame unfinished in execultion. Gacreino's first style was an exasggerated natural, violent in acteion and( crudle in execution; his second adds to vigor in drawing and harmnonv in col,)ring', a masterly power of light and shade, givin(g such a relief to his figuures, that they seeili separated firom all behind and suspende(l in the air; a power which gained him the title of the " iagiciln." HIlis third style, like Guido's, lacks distinctness in aiii, and has a soulless beauty wivhich speaks only to the eye of sense. Wlhille Eliecticism had its chief seat at Bologna, its spirit pervaded It-ly. Fifty years befiore the Carracci lived, Giulio Caillli, of Cremoiia, a I1uluil of Giulio Rolomano, aimied to coinl)iine the excellences of' 1al)hael and Coirreggio. At )Iilari, Procaccini, educated at Bologna, foundedl a school, ningling the grace of Pai — ,9j27 ART CRITICISM. migianio and the breadth of Correggio; Crespi being its ornament. At Rome, Baroccio attempted a sinmilar method; but his effort died with him firom the violent opposition of his associate artists. At Florence even during the life of M. Angelo, a degeneracy had begun. Vasari, while embalming for all time the memory of the great artist, discloses how unconscious of its decline inferiority is. "We," says he, "paint six pictures in a year, while the earlier masters took six years to one picture; and yet these pictures are much more perfectly executed than those of the early school by the most distinguished masters." Certainly a reform was needed when such a statement could come from a Florentine. The Eclectic Florentine began with Cigoli, born A. D. 1559, admired for his attractive warmth in coloring; and it was adorned by Allori, noted for his Judith and Hiolofernes, Emnpoli, who reproduced Venetian princes, set off with Florentine lights, and Rosselli, who with his pupils gave to portraits a life-like freshness. The favorite master, with whom the eclectic spirit expired in Italy, was Carlo, called DI)olee. Born at Florence, A. D. 1616, he early painted a St. John, and a portrait of his mother, which brought out the fasciniation of his developing style. Adopted by the Medici family, he painted sin(gle figures and heads; chiefly Magdalenes and Madonnats, whose winning sweetness of expression gave him his nanme. DI)olce had but one style, as he had but one ideal; and his nuinerous wor'ks are each admired where it is a separate treasure. Being, however, all reproductions of the same type and easily copied, Dolce's daughter Agnese became his most efficient aid in working up his designs. SECT. 11. THE REACTIONARY NATURAL SCHOOL PRECEDING THE DE CLINE OF ITALIAN ART; ORIGINATING WITII CARAVAGGIO, AND ADORNED BY SALVATOR ROSA. The aspiration for originality, leading artists to nature for new themes and methods, became as much bound by the rules of the Eclectic as of partial schools. The tendency to mere imitation culmiinating in Carlo Dolce, led to the Reactionary Natural school. M. Angeli Amerighi. called Caravaggio, from the town where, A. D. ]569, he was born, in youth a paint-grinder for an artist at MIilan, studied at Venice the works of Giorgione. Being of a passionate temiper and dissolute in habits, he commenced a wandering 3 2,i TIIE N,ATUR.AI, SCHOOL ()F CARAVAGGIO. 329 life. and adopted a style of painting in keeping. He painted, indeed, fi'om nature; but chiefly scenes of passion and lust met in the dens of intfmy, seldomi seen and scarcely dreamed of by the llass of virtuous society; sLluchl as Schiller's early literary fancies. In theimes of a religious cast, his style was most inappropriate; Kugler say ing of his i Entoiiibmient of Christ," "it is too like the funeral ceremony of a gypsy chief." Cairavag,,io had numerous imitators, as Vouet and Valentin of France. and Corenzio, a Greek; but the special seat of his school was at Naples, where its way had already been prepared. Shortly after Papl)hiael's death, one of his pupils, Polidoro Caldara, at first ain imitator of his iiiaster, going to Naples, broke suddenly into a style quite opposite; his designiis being pictures of passion in excess and his coloring in deep brown hues, grand but gloomy. Ribera, called "Lo Sl)pagnoletto," the little Spaniard. born A. D. 1593, a pupl)il of Caravaggio, became the leading spirit in his school, spendilig fority years at Naples. Mlost of his works are scenes of horror, such as martyrdoms and executions. The school closed, as it began, with a wild adventurer. Salvator Rlosa, born near Naples, A. D. 1615, at eighteen made an art-tour to the iiiountazin dens of banditti. Returning, he was drawn to the school of'kibera. Visiting Rome at twenty, he assumed the threefild chariacter of actor, musician and painter. Duaing a political revolution at Naples le joined the insurgents, fled to Florence, and finally settled at Ronie. where he remained till his death. In his Conspiracy of Catiline" the figures are Neapolitan insurgents Ilis head of a wairlior, fearfully gloomy, is a specimen of his power in dark portraiture. His landscapes are true works of genius; dark, dismal mountain ravines and forests, with a lonely hernit or robber band in the gloom. Art in its childhood effort imitates its teacher instead of nature; in youthl it discards too miuch the bonds of authority; brought back in imanhood to system again, it works too much like the man of settled and driving business, ever in the same rut; until the sonii fails where the father succeeded. The natural style proimptitng genius in its early aspirings, is only the first stage in the triiic artist's progress. Its early effort under Giotto was an advalic; but its reflection of the long line of successful teachers was,a,cline. The school of the naturalists, though noble in its astpiriig, 28 ART CRITICISM. was composed of men like Byron and Shelley in poetry; whose fiery spirits burnt rapidly to the socket the candle of their existence, and then left the world all the darker for their having shone in it. CHAPTER VIII. TIHE ADVANCE OF MODERN PAINTING IN CENTRAL EUROPE; IN CLUDING GERMIANY, THE NETHERLANDS, HOLLAND AND FRANCE; EMIINENTL,Y SECULAR IN SUBJECTS, NATURAL IN STYLE AND CHARACTERIZED BY PERFECTION OF SHADES IN COLORING. IN Gernany as in Italy, commerce introduced art and led to its advance. In the days of Cimiabue the Hanse Towns were leagued to protect the trade fronm the Mlediterranean to the Baltic, between Veniiice and Oleron; and when Albrecht Dii-rer, the founder of tihe German school, visited Venice, it was to paint his St. Bartliolomiew for an association of Gernian merchiants. 1I the revival of art in Italy ancient masterpieces checked iil)iependent study; and the controlling, influence of a dominant Cihuich imiade religion the chief theme of art. The Germians had no ancient glories in art to check the untrammeled aspirings of nature, nor any hereditary r-eligious associations to guard the tendency to secular subjects. Yet mlore, the Germnan sky in the centre as well as the lowlands, wore a sober gray which made utterly impossible the conee)tion of the clear transparence of an Italian daiylight and the gorgeous glare and curtained purple of Venetian night-shades. rlThese three peculiarities distinguish the German friom Italian painting. The order of location mainly, but in part also the order of tiine leads to the notice, first, of the schools of Germnany; then of the Nethlerlands or of the Flemiish race; next of the Dutch in miodern Ilollatnd; and finally of the schools of France; all of which were associated with the old German Empire. 11 1) -).-) 1) Ar, PLY GE,MAAN PAINTFERS; DURER. SECT. 1. TIIE RUIDIMENTAIrY HISTORY OF PAINTING IN GERMTANY TO THE SIXTEENTHI CENTURY. The woiks of the first native Geirman artists exhibit the stiff ali(tular drawing of the Romlanesque rather than the routided contour of the Byzantine, and the cold gray tints of the West instead of the warm hues and glitteiring gold( pigment of the East. About lhalf a century after Giotto, appeared Wilhelm, of Cologne; four of whose paintings are at Cologne and four at Munich. The latter are groutps of saints and apostles painted in Gothic niches; three of which have a olden Byzantine, and the fourth a dark background. Wilhelm established a school of art; in which Meister Stephan succeeded him, whose altar-pieces, executed A. 1). 1410, ill the c(athelrial of Coloogne, and a picture of St. Veronica in tlhe l'iiiacothek of -Iunich. are aniong the finest relics of ancient art. W'illiel''s schlool was celebrated for a centuiy. EirlI in the fifteenth century schools of art existed in Westihailia id Nuirembutrg; the formier the iprecursor of the Fleishi schools. the latter culminating at MIunich in Bavaria. In the line of Niireinburg painters were the fanlily called Schongauer fiomn tlhe beauty of their style; under one of whom, in 1492, Diirer studied. The niost eminent before D)iirer was Michael Woliohlgeinuth, born A. D. 1434; his early and efficient teacher. Four of his pictures at aMunich, a Nativity, Crucifixion, Deposition ad ]lestirectioii. show that religious thenmes p)revailed. Of them Lord Liiildsay remarks, tlhat thlough uncouth in generul design, attitude and diapeiry, there is a heavenly expression about the countenance of Jesus. SECT. 2. THE ESTABLISHTIENT OF THE NATIVE GERMAN SCHIIOOL UNDER AL-BRECHT DLIRER AND IIANS HIOLBEIN. Albrecht D)iirer, in English Albert Dutrer, born at Nurembiirg, A. D). 1471, at fifteen years entered a studio; and spent fiur years under MAichael Wohlgemiith. At twenty-one he went to Germany and the Netheilands; and studied fo)r a time under the Sehongauers. At twenty-four he settled at Nureniburg as an engraver and a painter: soon attaining the hiicrhest reputation with the E1inperor Maximiilian T. One day, as Diirer was tracing on a wall in the palaee one of his designs, the ladder slipped. The FEmperor 331 ART CPRTICIS'fM. beckoned one of his suite to hold it; and when lie hesitated the Emperor himself held it till the drawing was completed. When finished he conferred a title of nobility on the artist; saying: "Know that this painter is already more than a noble by his talent. I can easily make a peasant a nobleman; but with all my power I should never be able to make a nobleman such an artist as Albrecht Diirer." At thirty-five Diirer visited Italy. At Venice he painted St. Bartholomew; at Bologna he studied perspective; at Florence he made the' acquaintance of Raphael; but he returned home the next year with no characteristic of' his style essentially modified. I-is faults were an excess of the dramatic and of fancy in coniposition, a stiffness in drawing, and a lack of breadth affecting his perspective. MIost of his studies were Scripture thenies. He became an adherent of the Pefoimer-s, and painted the portraits of their leaders. In Christian themes he rejected the classic, and was sonmetimes too independent in his creations. In 1520, at the miature age of forty-nine, Diirer made a second visit of four years to the Netherlands; spending some tinme with Lucas of Levdeii. On his return his style was subdued to sober siill)licity; Mlelancthon statiing that Diirer confessed to him he had gaitied new conceptions of the simple spiritual majesty belonging to sacred thenies. Diirer's female associations, especially his liarriage, proved unhappy. This seenms to have worn upon his sensitive spirit; and he died at the age of fifty-seven years. Contemporary with Direr. was Lucas Cranach, court painter to three electors of Saxony, accompanying the first to Palestine. His style had less of grandeur and more of grace and simplicity than Diirer's. He delighted in the anachronism of introducing Luther and his associates into scenes such as the Crucifixion and the Last Supper; a fault opposed to the professed spirit of the Refoimnation. Altdorfer, a pupil of Diirer, perverted his master's style by romantic associations clustered about secular and sacred themes. htans Holbein, born 1495, belongs to the early English rather than the German school. 1,32 OVERBECK, R. MENGS, CORNELIUS, LESSING. 333 SECT. 3. THE REVIVAL AT THE CLOSE OF THE EIGHTEENTH CEN TURY OF THE IDEAL HiSTORIC BY CORNELIUS; OF THE FORMAL AND MIYSTIC STYLE BY OVERBECK; AND OF THE NATURAL STYLE BY TIlE DUSSELDORF SCHOOL. The religious reformlation of the fifteenth century had men of extremle views among its leaders; it was continued by men of calmiier spirit; while nmany opposed it by a reactionary nmovement. Ait in Germany, subjected to this reaction, showed three tendencies; first, the rationalistic, founded on extreme independence of thought; second, the conservative, leading to a return to old ecclesias.tical associations; third, the intenrmediate, retaining what was valuable in the past, and adapting it to the new spirit of progress. Though, Diirer's visit to Italy and intimate acquaintance with Raphael wrought no change in the vigorous but unclassic drawing peculiar to Gernman art, yet Ielarnctlion's scholarship chastened his method. Toward the close of the eighteenth century the impulse to general culture given by Niebuhr, and the two Schlegels, was communicated to artists. The return to ancient authority led some to the standard of Roman ecclesiastical art, and others to the Grecian classic; while at a later period the school of Lessing became devoted to the real in contrast with the ideal, and allied to the Re formed rather than the Roman Church. Early in this period appeared Raphael Mengs; cosmopolitan in nationality, encyclopedic in learning, and eclectic in art-methods. Born A. D. 17-S28, in Bolhenia, early promoted to be royal professor in his native country, appointed painter to the king of Spain in 1761, and head of the Academy of Florence in 1769, he acquired extended reputation as a teacher and writer, inaugurating a new era. Peter von Cornelius, born in 1787, at Dusseldorf, caught at first the style of Rubens; but at nineteen he revealed a fondness for the style of Raphael in fresco, assuming the bold, firee, open method of drawing which fresco encourages. Going to Rome in 1810, as leader of an artistic German brotherhood he established a European reputation as the restorer of fresco painting. Becoming in 1819 'he head of the Dusseldorf Gallery, in ten years Cornelius wrought an entire revolution in that school; during four subsequent years he reorganized the efficient academy of Munich; after which he ART CRITICISM. ,petit some years at Roiome and Berlin. His illustrations of thie, ,'jibeluiigen Lied, thle Iliad of Geirmaniy, though classic in spirit, arie,o thoroughlly national that tlhey are the delight of the colniinon people. As the restorer of the ideal historic in fresco, Cornelius is the great master of Modern Gernuany. l'ieiderich Overbeek, born A. D. 1789, at Liibeek, studied at Vienina and Rouie, and imbibed at first the classic spirit of Cornelis,, lchadow and others. At twenty-five he united with tiic RoInoaln Church, and devoted himiself to religious theimes; his st31e assunuing the dreamy myn-stic east peculiar to his own spirit. Untier Karl Lessing, born 1805, the independent Gerumjan style of Durcre, Protestant in thenes and characterized by bold naturalness arid nationality in drawinig and accessories, has been revived. Att(cr studying at Berlin, he entered the Dusseldorf' Acadeimy, thrin under Schadow, who had( succeeded Cornelius; fromn whonm le borrowed a st-le ideal and classic. At twenty-four he departed entirely frona his master; selecting themies of' the intensest mode,n interest, throwing into them energy and passion. Lessing's methods lack the grace in outline and the mellowness in hues, Ilonging to the Dussel(lorf school in historic themes; but in lan(lscape he is a pc;'f{. I;::ti-ter of local hues and shadows. SECT. 4. THE ESTABLISH3[ENT OF THE FLEMISH SCIIOOL BY II. AND J. VAN EYCK; CHARACTERIZED BY LIFELIKE NATUItALNESS AND LABORED COLORING. In the Lowland commercial towns of old Flanders, now in the kingdoni of Belgiumi, the spirit of art early iiianifested an independent development; the Flemish schools being established during the age when the schools of Northern Italy were taking form. huibert VAan ENyck, born A. D. 13C)6, and John or Jan, his aibler brother, about A. 1). 1370, were sons of a painter of the Byzantine type. With their sister Margaret, also an artist, the brothers settled at Brutes; and at Ghent united in an altar-piece embracing three hundred figures; which work, painted in sections, is now divided between the Berlin Mluseum, the Gallery of the Louvre at Paris, and the Cathedral at Ghent. Hubert and Margaret died early, but John lived loii, honored with official position. The Van Eycks were masters in landscape; John, especially, excelling in aerial perspective. It was to John's persevering efforts to find 0 FLEM.IStI PAINTrERS; VAN EYCK AND RUBENS. 335 an improved method of giving transparency to atmospheric effects that the world became indebted for the method of employing oil as a vehicle in mixing pigments. The characteristic of Flemish landscal)e, a dark shading adiiira.ble in twilight scenes, the natural suggestion of thleir murky lowland sky, is departed from by John in his grand woik; as HumLoldt in his "Cosmos" intimates. The Latin epitaph on his tomb describes his power: "He painted breathing forms, and covered the earth's surface with flowery vegetation. perfecting every work to very life." The style of J. VAan Eyck was transmitted for more than a centuiry; Roger of Bruoes, becoming a noted teacher; Hans lHeinlling, a soldier-artist, painting chiefly altar-pieces; while Jan Ilabuse, contenli)orary with A. Diirer, found his way to England under ITenry VIII., and painted portraits at court. The spirit of the Flelnish school appeared at Antwerp in Quentin 3Ialtsys, whose genius in art was roused by admiration of a young lady above his condition in life; and at Leyden, in Lucas, whose sober naturalness influenced Duiirer more than the grace of Raphael. At a later period Michael Coxies, a Flemish pupil of Raphael, souihlt to incorporate his methods with the Flemish; when its glory declined, quicker than the Italian schools where Raphael's inmitators had influence. SFCT. 5. THE CULM[INATING ERA OF THE FLEMISH SCHOOL UNDER RUBENS; DISTINGUISHED BY BOLDNESS OF INVENTION AND RICH NESS OF COLORING. The people of the Lowlands, fond of rustic fetes, and accustomed to a imurky sky, could not appreciate at once Italian methods. A master who could lead the popular taste into a new channel miust unite bol(lness in invention and skill in execution. Peter Paul Rubens, born in 1577, at Cologne, was, whenii a child, carried to Antwerp. By his mother's solicitation at thirteen he was allowed to study painting. At twenty-three he visited Italy At Venice he studied Paul Veronese and Tintoret, and as Fuseli says, "compounded the splendor of the former and the glow of the latter." Sent to Spain as anmbassador of the Duke of Mantua, he won at Mladrid royal patronage in portraits. Retunyning to Italy, he studied Raphael and MI. Angelo at Florence, Bologna and ART CRITICISM. Rome; where his Flemish cast, modified by Italian study, gave him numerous orders. Subseq,uently visiting Milan and Genoa, he returned and settled as court-painter at Antwerp, his early home. Iarrying A. 1). 1609, he lived in elegance; and excepting visits in 1620 to Paris to decorate the palace of the Luxemburg, in 1628 as ambassador to Spain, and in 1629 to England, he steadily pursued his profession at honme till his death in 1640. Rubens united the natural life in drawing of the Flemish school with the gorgeous coloring of the Venetians, and the harmony of liihts of the three great masters of Italy. His invention was boundless; scenes, sacred, historical and domestic, landscape, aniial and human subjects, being equally mastered. Ile had industry iianid systemn, rising early, attending church, drawing alone till breakfirst, then ileeting his pupils. Those skillful in special subjects, animal or human, flowers or fruit, landscape or sky, he employed on his own works; overseeing and directing the work of numerous hands. Mlany of his fourteen hundred paintings were thus executed. Skilled as a collector, he sold to the Duke of Buckingham, in England, his first gathering. In making up a second he patronized young artists of promise; giving Vandyke his first reputation. Jacob Jordaens, born at Antwerp A. D. 1594, emnployed as a pupil and worker by Rubens on small pieces, succeeding in low sportive scenes, began an independent and sometimes anta,gonistic career. He lived to a great age, wrought with industry and rare inventive skill; but devoted his powers largely to gross subjects. Anthony Van Dyck, afterwards Sir Anthony Vandyke, born at Antwerp, A. D. 1599, was at sixteen a pupil of Rubens. Ihis genius was first brought out by an effort to relieve the anxiety of a fellow-pupil who had brushed against a freshlly-painted arm; young Anthony restor:ing the injured painting so perfectly that their master, not discovering the change, called his pupils' attention next day to the armi as a happy effort of his own brush. At the age of twenty, he went to Italy; at Venice studied the coloring of Titian and Paul Veronese, and modified the Flemish cold hues by the rich and mellow Italian tints. Returning after seven years to Antwerp, for five years he industriously employed his brush on portraits and altar-pieces. Invited by Charles I. to England in 1632, ten years of eminently successful toil, attended by a sumptuous style of living, 336 THE DUTCH SCHOOLS OF REMBRANDT,r. undermined the artist's constitution and brought him to an untimely grave. In the Belgian school, successor to the Flemish, Gustavus Wap)peis, born 1803, imbibing the taste of the later French school, has denvoted histiielf to modern scenes of Belgian and French history wrought in the gorgeous fete style. Louis Gaillait, born 1810, is also one of the ablest miodern historic painiters. SECT. 6. THiE DUTCH SCHOOLS; TIlE EXAGGERATED NATURAL STYLE ORIIGINATING WITH REMIBRANDT; TIlE LOW LIFE OR " GENRE" WVITH THE BREUGITELS; AND TIlE PASTORAL LANDSCAPE FAVOR ITE W'ITHt TIlE DUTCH MASTERS. Tile effort to represent the ludicrous and grotesque, in itself a genuine aspiration to copy Nature in real scenes among the happy tlhough uncouth laboring people, an aspiration dignified in the early effoirts of Apelles and Lionardo, became the pervading genius of the Dutch masters, when, led by Rembrandt, they separated from the Flemish school. I'Pautl Gerritz PRemnbrandt, born on the Rhine near Leyden, A. D. 16)06, the son of a miiller, having studied art at Amsterdam, at twNenty made his father's mill his studio. The sale of one of his pictures for one hundred florins led him to make Amsterdam his re.sid(lece. iaiariyiug into a falily of low rank, his associates were the common people met at the ale-house; where he learned to copy the grotesque attitudes and uncouth habilimients of his jocose coimpallions. A rapid composer, he executed historical and scriptural pieces, )portlraits, and especially mirthful scenes of low life, introducig) the attributes of this style even into sacred themes. His niagical skill in chiaroscuro, learned in the badly-lighted garret of his fither's nlill. made him as Fuseli says, "a meteor in art." Rembrandt left able pupl)ils; among whom Gerard Dow, too labored to be popular, in portrait wearying his sitters by his slowness. delighted in domestic scenes, where his power in grouping and(l shaditigi could be displayed. Jan Breughel, born A. D. 1510, preceding Rembrandt, though fo(nd of village, gipsy and bandit scenes, remained associated with Fl(iuish artists. His two sons, Jan, born in 156)5, and Peter, in 15)0,, wiere influenced by Rembrandt. The elder, called " Velvet Breughlel"' fioni his soft touches in coloring, after a tour in Italy, 29 P 337 ART CRITICISM. became eminent as a colorist of landscape backgrounds. The younger, called "Hell Breughel," from his fondness for witches, sorcerers, robbers and devils, gave encouragement to an extravagance ill picturing the darker features of human nature; which, added to the coarseness in form encouraged by Rembrandt, tended to a degeneracy in the Dutch school. A happier tendency began with David Tcniers. Born A. D. 1610, trained under his father of the Dutch comnic school, afterward attempting unsuccessfully the graver style of Rubens. at thirty Teniers entered on that fascinating style of genre or home scenes which he pursued till he was eighty. His methods have been minutely scanned. In essaying a graver manner he made his ground of a dark-brown; but in his new style he changed this to a silvery light-gray, and later to a tremulous yellow-brown. Upon a ground prepared with chl alk or plaster, hlie first scumbled tints of brown or pearly gray; second, sketched the figures and chief accessories, and third, the principal shadows in bistre; fourth, threw in the half tones with delicacy and labored transparency; fifth, worked up the prominent figures, giving them a thick body of color to indicate solidity; and finally, sixth, added sparkling touches and glaring tints. Teniers was patronized by the Spanish and Swedish courts; he painted about one thousand pictures, whose value varies from one thousand to ten thousand dollars each; and many able masters became his followers. Teniers is the link between the Flemish and Dutch schools. Besides genre or home scenes the Dutch school has been eminent in pastoral landscape, with the accessories of animal, bird, fruit and flower painting. Both Cuyp and Ruysdael in wild, native scenery, excelled in ideal landscape; W. Vander Velde in marine views; Wouvermanns in hunting scenes; Snyders in animals; and Van Huysum in fruit and flower-pieces. SECT. 7. THE EARLY HISTORY OF THE NATIVE FRENCH SCHOOL; ITS MODIFICATION UNDER GIOTTO AND LIONARDO; THE CLASSIC STY1LE OF POUSSIN AND THE LANDSCAPE OF CLAUDE, IN TYE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. The French people, mediate between the North and the South, possessing the physical hardihood of the German and the passionate impulse of the Italian, borrowing much from intercourse with J38 EARLY FRENCH PAINTERS; POUSSIN AND CLAUDE. 339 and employment of the artists of other countries, have had in every age native artists of great independence in their methods. The eras of their civil and commercial advancement mark very nearly the stages of progress in the history of French painting. Under Charleimagne French painting was associated with the Germnan; the missal illumination of the day, Byzantine in coloring, showing ill the drawing of figures a native French vivacity. Flenmish artists afterwards wrought in the North; a brief visit of Giotto to the South introduced naturalness in design; and an impulse began which culminated under Louis XI., A. D. 14)61, the era called the "' Renaissance." The consolidation of the French nationality and the extension of French conmmerce gave greater comprehensiveness to French artists. Jean Fouquet, court-painter to Louis XI., excelled in animal and human figures in repose, though not in action and expression, and also in perspective and chiaroscuro. Rexve, of Anjou, followed Van Dyke; this age being but prelimiinary. The French school proper opened, A. 1D. 1515 to 1547, under Francis I., whose conquests in Italy brought Lionardo and other Italian artists, as well as valuable art collections, to the French capital. Its founder, J. Cousin, born A. D. 1462, by his writings awakened the French people to love of art; and his "Last Judgmenet," now in the Louvre, shows that the French people appreciate the serious as well as the fiivolous. Vouet, born A. D. 1582, aimilng at the rude vigor of Caravaggio, softened by the sweetness of Guido, increased the tendency French genius in art was taking. The first great miaster of the French school was Nicolas Poussin. Born 1594, deriving his early idea of expression and grouping from engravi igs of Raphael and Romano, at the age of thirty he went to Rome, where Marino introduced him to Cardinal Barbarini with the expression, "Vederete un giovan che a la furia del diavolo," "Behold a young man who has the furor of the devil." For six years he studied Titian and Raphael, and devoted himself to drawing firom antique sculpture; the latter most modifying his native French style. His themes were chiefly historical, both civil and sacred; his composition shows extended learning; in attitude and expression his designs have French vivacity; while in coloring his method was intermediate between the dark Flemiish and the light Italian. Fuseli says: "Poussin painted basso-relievo;" but Rley ART CRITICISM. nolds attributes to him., despite his faults, these three excellences: "correct drawing, forcible expression and just character." The counterpart of Poussin was Claude Lorraine, born A. D. 1600. Sent by his brother in early youth to Italy, he studied architectural drawing at Naples and landscape coloring at Rome. 31aking a tour through Northern Italy and visiting his home on the Rhine, he returned and spent his long life at Rome. HIlis themes were landscapes, pastoral and classic. ITe spent months studyinii architecture in the cities and scenerv in the mountains of Italy. Hle often sat whole days and even nights intently watching every change in the aspect of the sky and earth; preferring the hours of mnorning and evening twilight. Hle made his ground color a light gray; laying on warm colors thinly for the distant semitransparent half-tints; and giving a fill body to the principal lights and( prominent figures. The bewitching illusion of his atmospheric effects gives him universal popular favor. In drawing, however, he iwas defective; sensible of which, he would eithe' eiiploy another artist to work up the figures, or with his peculiar suavity he would humorously remark to purchasers that he charged for the landscape and threw in the figures. SECT. 8. THE OPERATIC STYLE OF LE BRUN UNDER I:OUIS XIV.; THIIE FETE STYLE OF WATTEAU UNDER LOUIS XV.; TIIE TEMNIPO RARY REACTION OF THE NATURAL STYLE OF J. VERNET, GREUZE AND OTHERS; THtE GROSS TRAGIC STYLE OF DAVID DURING THIE REVOLUTION; AND TIIE RESTORATION OF THE NATURAL STYLE UNDER DE LA ROCHIE AND H. VERNET. Under Louis XIV., whose long reign extended from 1643 to 1715, the military power of France was extended by conquests in Spain and Flanders; its widening commerce led to the incorporation of a French East India Company; and its advancing culture suggested the establishment of the since celebrated Academnlies of Belles Lettres, Inscriptions and of Science. Painting in this era took character firom the style of architecture called Louis Quatorze. Charles le Brun, a companion of Poussin in Italy, called to adorn the extensive walls of the palace of Versailles, revealed - style like that of Louis himself, forced by the spirit of his age to an artificial grandeur, and to act a part on a stage of fictitious eleva 3.40 LE BRUUN, WATTEAU AND VERNET. titon as is seen in his series called the Life of Alexander. HIis Scripture themes are natural and truly expressive; and of his family portraits, Schlege] remarks: "A painter, essentially a mannerist. though really a mnan of genius, nmay in single works attain the highest excellence, if he be only forcibly driven fiorn his ordiniiary style;"i a remark suggesting a most important principle of criticism both in art and literature. In the age of Louis XV. comnmerce reached China; the manufacture of silk, porcelain and of tapestry was largely introduced; the Jesuits were meeting such men as Voltaire; and the leading spirit in art was 5Vatteau. In him religious themes proper were superseded l,y scenes at festivals. Hiorace Walpole hinted that the artificial style of Watteau was really an excessive inimutation of the natural arouind him; his figures being fac-similes of the conventional society in which the artist lived, and the s,tiff trees and walks of his backgriounds being copies of the clipped anrid squared landscape then in vg-ue about Paris. Rcynolds recominwnded "attention to the works of Watteau for their excellence in the florid style of colo]in. " A degeneracy in such a style was the natural result; culiiiiiiating in the wanton Boucher, of whom even Diderot writes: 'I a b )old to say that this artist in ieality knows not what grace is; that he has,eer known what tiftth is; that all ideas of delica.cy, piii'ity, innocence or sinmplicity have become entirely strange to him; that he has never for one monient seen nature. The del),aseiienat of taste, of color, of composition, of character, of expression, and of drawing has followed step by step on that of morals." D)tuiing the era of Louis XVI., men of true genius in science, philosophy and art, nunmerous and worthy, retired to the pure retreat of quiet academic shades. Amnong the artists Claude Joseph Veinet, born 1714, the second in the line of four generatiols devoted to painting, first instructed by his father Antoine Vernet, at eighteen went to ronie. The study of Salrator Rosa led him to love marine views. After twenty years of devoted diligence he ranked as the best landscape painter of his age. Invited to Paris by T,oiis XV., in the midst of a terrific storm he insisted upon being laslied to the mast. that he might study the features of the sea in a teiiipest. Ten or twelve years were devoted to those fifteen grand nmasterpieces, the views of the principal ports of France. Nearly every one of his two hundred or more landscape 29 * 341 ART CRITICISM. views have been copied in engravings and published in different countries of Europe. Greuze, born A. D). ] 7'6, became a master in an entirely different department. The sweet grace of' two of his early domestic scenes, "The Father explaining the Scriptures to his Children," and "The Paralytic Father," led the French Academy to suspend their rule requiring a historic painting for admission; and to receive Greuze for his success in "genre." His paintings numbered about one hundred and seventy-five. Waagen, the German critic, comnpares him to SterIne, and adds: "The natural characteristics of France are seized by Greuze with the same success as those of England by Wilkie." David, born in 1748, is a monument of the power of adaptation characteristic of true genius. Having at the age of twenty-seven partaken of the general enthusiasm for the antique, hle devoted himself to classic themes; his " Horatii" making him a favorite with Louis XVI. During the Revolution his pictures of "Tullia" conlmended him to the school of Robespierre. Under Napoleon his "Leonidas" and "Crossing of the Alps," familiar in the engraved copy, added to his popularity; and even in the retirement of age, still master of the situation, his "Wrath of Achilles" and "Mars discerned by Venus," proved themes for the times. Among his pupils, Gros, born A. D). 1771, merely modernized his severely classic style by employing his method on themes of conteIporaneots history. His "St. Genevieve protecting the French Monarchyv," brought him one hundred and fifty thousand francs and the title of baron. At the restoration, three schools, the product of the times, divided popular favor. De la Croix, born 1799, characterized by brilliance of color, opposed to the sober hues of the classic, sketching in Morocco every variety of gay costume, employed then to decorate the Bourbon palace, was the head of the Romantic school. De la Roche, born 1797, a master in drawing, design and coloring, and excelling in almost every department, winning popular esteem by his scenes in English and French history and his portraits of Guizot, Thiers and I,aniartine, enshrined in the he(art of Christian sentiment by his head of Jesus, became head of a French Eclectic school. Horace Vernet, fourth in the line of family artists, born 1789, spending two years in the army to learn details essential 342 EARLY ENGLISH PAINTING. to his art, devoted himself to picturing the rapl)id military successes of his country. Honored equally by Napoleon I., the Bourbons, Charles X., Louis Philippe and Napoleon III., less gorgeous than Dc la Croix, less dreamy than De la Roche, he is the head of the modern French Historic school. CHAPTER IX. TIlE LATE DEVELOPMENT OF MODERN PAINTING IN ENGLAND AND AMERICA; COMPREHENSIVE IN SUBJECT AND AIM, AS WELL AS IN TIlE NATIONALITY OF ITS ARTISTS; NATIVE IN CONCEPTION, BUT CULTURED IN STYLE. ENGL,AND has been late in developing native genius in art; her Shakespeare being in advance of her sculptors and painters, as Homner antedated Phidias and Apelles. The English, too, like the Ro)mans, sturdy in practical pursuits, have been contented with imported rather than with native art. The Americans, besides partaking of the national traits of their mother-land, have had a new land and nation to mould. Both England and America have thus opened an inviting field to artists of foreign culture; whose influence has awakened the germs of a peculiarly vigorous native art. SECT. I. THE EARLY ENGLISH TASTE IN PAINTING AS DEVELOPED FIRST BY ITALIAN AND LATER BY FLEMISH ARTISTS. As in architecture so in painting, Roman vied early with Saxon taste in England; then Italian religious and German secular artists succeeded; till native masters were called out. The oldest English portraits and altar-pieces are on wood and in the stiff Lombard method of drawing. Improved Italian art was late in being appreciated. When Francis I. had brought Lionardo to Pa is, henry VIII. was trying, though unsuccessfully, to bring both Raphael and Titian to London. At this period, from religious reaLsons, artists began to be looked for from another quarter than Italy. Under Henry VIII., John of Mabuse, a Flemish artist, came as a youth to England and became portrait painter for tho 343 A RAT CRITTICISM. court. Hie also executed altar-pT)ieces, which drew Albert Dijrer to England to examlilie theul. About 1527 ilolbein, influenced by Eirasimus, the scholarly Dutch Reforiner, coming to E,ngland, became a precursor of the English school proper, established two centuries later. From Henry VIII. to Mary, Holbein was honored as an artist, leaving such pupils as Sir Anthony More. Holbeiii's chief success was in portrait; the expression and relief of his dark b)ackgrounds being chief excellences. His exquisite skill in engraving, seen in his "Dance of Death," awakened in England a germ of native art afterward to be matured. Under Elizabeth architecture, and under James I. and Charles I. pI)ainting began their native history. About 1622 the Duke of Buckinghami established a gallery, purchasing the entire collection of Ptubens. Charles I. took lessons in drawing and oil painting. In 1629 Flanders sent Rubens as ambassador to England; whop Charles received with enthusiasm, and for his fine painting of "Peace and War," conferred on the artist the order of knights hood. In 1632 Vandyke, invited by Charles, was appointed courtpainter, soon knighted, and pensioned for life. The touching emnotion of his Scripture themes, and the fascinating aniimation of his portraits, formed an English taste. While the sojouin of three Flenis.h masters, and commnion sky, hablits and cast of mind made the English and Flemnishl taste iii art correspond. the collections of the Duke of Buckinghani and of Charles I. kept alive a love for Italian art. The vandalism of the Revolution scattered these treasures; and a decline in art followed, whose repressing influence was fi,lt during the reign of four successive sovereigns of the house of Stuart. SECT. 2. THE EARLY NATIVE ENGLISH MASTERS, BEGINNING WVITH HIIOGARTH; THE FIRST ENGLISH SCHOOLS ORIGINATING WITH SIR J. REYNOLDS IN PORTRAIT AND GAINSBOROUGH IN LANDScAPE. The dawn of native English art was gradual. Nicolas Ililliard, born A. D. 1547, linrner to Queen Elizabeth, excelled in miniature portraits. In the next geneiration Isaac Oliver and his son Peter were eminent, the former as a miniiiature painter in oil tand water, the latter as a copyist of larger paintings. Win. Doblson, born A. D. ) 1610, made court-painter at Vandyke's death, whose style and self-culture won for him the title of the English Tintoret, 344 IIOGARTH, REYNOLT,DS AND GAINSPOROUGHI. 345 nuight have proved, but for his early death, the father of Englishli p)ai liting. Win. HIogarth bwon this honor. Born A. D). lt)97, noted when a boy for the driwings co(veing his seliool-boolks, empl)loyed as engraver by a silversmiith, at twenty-one years he began to attend lectures on art, and to draw foiiio life at the London Academy. Devoting himself for some years to portrait painting, engraving became his niaster art. His style in satire, or mingled tragic and comici, led Wa'lpl)ole to pronounce him "no painter;" while Charles Lamb regarded hint the true type of an English artist; remarking, "Othle pi)ctuLies we look at, lHogarthl's prints we read." His "Analysis of Beauty," published A. D. 1753, has many practical sug'gestions of value, though faulty in its leading principle. His fitiiliai portrait, a hale, jovial, sonmewlhat haughty English face, with hlis fvorite do, perched by his side, is suggestive of his place il Englishl art; the rude but powerful genius who broke loose fromn the traniiiiels of imere Flemish and Italian copyists, and by his pen and brush originated an English school. The recognized founders of English portrait and landscape reaelie(d the maturity of their powers while Hogarth was still li viir. Sir Joslhua Reynolds, born 1723, educated in a school kept by his father, at eighteen years placed in the studio of a portrait painter, after two y ears' study and six years' practice studied in Italy Venetian coloring and Correggio's transparence. At thirtyone, returning to London, he secured rank as the best of Eng,lish colorists; though the neglect of his early trainling left an abiding defect in his driawiiig. Social in disposition, literary in his tastes, he slione in the galaxy of Johnson, Burke, Goldsmith and Garrick; the Eiinglish club reviving the associations of ancient Greece and modern Tuscany. Devoted chiefly to portraits, he found time for historical and devotional themes; his "Holy Family" and his Kneeling Samuel" being familiar in thousands of Christian households. Masterly as were the effects he sometimes attained in coloring, Reynolds declared that the results lie achieved were but chances; that he knew no science of coloring; a fact confirmed by (he fading of some of his newly-tried pigments. Thomas Gainsborough, born A. D. 1727, at ten years of age was remarkable for capacity in drawing, and at twelve had learned colorin g. Ie:arly obtained proficiency in portrait, but over p: APrT CRfTICISM. shadowed by Reynolds, his retiring nature found rarer delight in landscap)e. True Einglish scenery first smiled on canvas at his touch. Contemporary with these leaders were other able artists; Richard Wilson in landscape, John Opie, called the "Cornish wonder," in p)ortrait, and James Northcote, mnore eminent as an author. In addition to these native artists Ireland gave Barry, sent as a genius by Burke to London, whose "Victors of Olympia" Canova said he would have traveled as far as England to see; while Switzerland futrnished the Italian Fuseli, who has done much for the just criticisin of art. SECT. 3. THE EN,-GLISII SChIOOLs,, MASTERS AND CRITICS IN PAINT ING IN THE NINETEENTH CENTURY. During the last half century in England ideas of former ag,es and schools have been revived; the extreme natural of the PreRaphlaelites, and the value of oil as a vehicle, have been newly tested; portrait, low-life, history and especially landscape, have received comprehensive study; while artists and amateurs have employed the pen equally with the pencil to advance national art. In portrait Sir Thomas Lawrence, whom George III. appointed courit-painter, was employed by the princes of Europe to paint the portraits of the generals prominent at the battle of Waterloo. Sir IlHenry Raeburn, born at Edinburgh, has left portraits of Sir Walter Scott and other Scotsmen eminent ill literature, philosophy and politics, which are treasures in history as they are geims in art. In historic fiction Etty has won the reputation of being the best of Eiglishl colorists; his Cleopatra, radiant in nude loveliness, heightened by the contrast of the gorgeous equipage around her, beginning his fame. Sir David Wilkie, of Scotland, the leading arti.t of the age in "genre," or low-life, will live as long as the remembrance of his "Sir Walter Scott" and "Chelsea Pensioners." Stothard, the illustrator of the Eng,lish poets, noted for richness and 3xhaustless fertility of invention, constantly ramnbling, in the fields, not only with his pencil to sketch the form of every striking grace in the bend of stalk or tendril, but also with his box of colors to co)py every new variety of rich hue in insect or flower, is prince in this humble walk of loveliness. Joseph MA. W. Turner, born 1775, at five years of age beginning 346 TURNER, LANDSEER AND LIVING PAINTERS. 347 to draw and paint in water-colors, showed early a skill in the management of his lights from which his future success in landscape was predicted. Ihis style was first modeled after Wilson and Gainsborough. A visit to France, the study of Claude, and a foot journey through Switzerland, gave him an independent style of truth to nature in sky and cloud, in foliage and in water, surpassing perhaps the attainment of any other artist, ancient or modern. His later style, founded on the idea of sketching only what the eye sees in one line without turning it, giving vivid distinctness to a narrow tunnel-like vista, encircling this with a cloudy indistinct rim, and leaving the corners of his canvas a perfect blank, though eulogized by his panegyrist Ruskin, is regarded by most critics as a degeneracy from the true ideal of his prime. After Turner followed Constable, especially successful in transient aspects of landscape, such as dew on foliage, and falling rain; Morland, who excelled in portraying domestic animals, especially the pig; Collins eminent for coast-views of fishermen and their families; and Charles L. Eastlake, the most thoroughly cultured of English artists, an able master in Scripture and classic thenes, as well as a profound critic. Most admired of all is Edwin Landseer, whose father, when he was a child, led him into the pastures to copy the foriii and study the color of different animals in varied positions. At sixteen he executed the famous St. Bernard dogs rescuing a traveler from the snow; and his fame culminated in a succession of landscape sketches relating to the chase and the habits of wild animals, which have made him the most popular because the most life-like of delineators. The English school in "Water Colors," established about 1750, by Sandby, adorned by Turner and Prout in architectural views and Fielding in wooded scenery, sought at first the peculiar freshness and clearness of hues afforded by water as a vehicle; which, as we have seen, led MT. Angelo to prefer fresco to oil coloring. A later method inaugurated by W. H. Hunt, born A. D. 1827, aid an association called the "Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood," proposes a return to the themes as well as the style introduced by Giotto; its subjects being either religious or exhibitions of high virtue; and its methods of drawing and coloring being derived fromn direct study of nature. The progress of art in England has been especially influenced by ARPT CRITICISM. critical writers; Lordi Kames and Burke, belonging to the school of Locke and Rei(l, and Alison to that of Beirkelcy. The more prac tical works of Hog-arth, Fuseli, Rexnolds, Ilay, Eastla.ke, Ruskin and Jaiinicson show that critical judgment is in advance of priactical execution. SECT. 4. THE HISTORY OF AMERICAN PAINTING PRIOR TO TIIE WAR OF AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE; WITII ITS CHIEF MIASTERS, WEST AND COPLEY. The rise and p)rogress of painting in the United States of America, while colonies of Great Britain, was specially associated with that of the mothler-country. In 1 7298, John Slinibert, accomipanying Dean Beirkeley to Rhode Island and seenming to partake the cnthusiasim of Beikelcy's famous stanzas, beginning, "Westward the star of Empire takes its flight,"' became eminent at Boston as a portrait painter. Other foreign artists aided in the development of a native taste in Wollaston and Blackburn, in Copley and Trumbull. Portraits of eminent men were first in demand; Robert Edge Pyne, M. du Cimitiere, Joseph Wright and other foreign artists, receiving sittings firom WVashington when no native artist had yet been developed. Benjaiiiin West, born at Springfield, Pennsylvania, A. D. 1738, was, when a child, fond of driawing and painting; his brush being of his own manulifacture from the hair of a calt, and his colors some red and yellow oclire obtained of thie neighboring Indians, and indigo given him by his mother. At seven years he surprised his mother, a Friend in religious profession, by a drawing of the babe in the cradle. Sent before he was sixteen to Philadelphia to study art, his early religious connections were severed; and at twenty-two some New York merchants sent him to Italy; where, in three years, he was elected a member of the Art Academies of Florence, Bologna and Parma. Settling in England in 1763, for fifty-five years, until his death in 1820, West practised his art in London; leaving about four hundred finished works, nmany of large size. His themes were ancient, modern and sacred history. In his I)cDeath of Wolfe," breaking over the scruples of Reynolds, and picturing English heroes in their national costume, he formed an era in British art. West's color, a monotoniious reddish brown, is 3 4,S WEST, COPLEY, STUART AND TRUMABULI,L. 319 fitulty; but his correct drawing, chaste design, and a(dmirable groUlpilg hlave ranked hiia as a imiaster.'T'liouglh Engl(ish inl hlis predilections, West, in respect for his countryluen, declined the order of knighthood, when, in 1792, hle succeeded Sir Joslhua RPcyiold(s as President of the PRoyal Academy. John Singltetoii Cop)ley, born at Boston, MIassachuisetts, in 1737, sent at twenty-two to the lloyal Academy at London, attraceted s)ecial notice by his coloriing. In Italy he studied the styl.es of C(i,rreggio and Titian. Devoting himsIelf at London to,ng,,lish history, his " I)eath of Chatliamn" won him esteemn with the British public, though a meniorial of his counti'y's defender. Copley had West's correct drawing; he fell short of him in design; but excelled him in brilliance of coloring, SECT. 5. TIlE AMIERICAN PAINTERS OF TIlE HALF CENTURY SUC CEEDING THE ERA OF NATIONAL INDEPENDENCE. Immiediately after Auierican Independence, the spirit of the So-uith, ardent alnd refined, that of the North, bold and inventive, and that of the Mliddle regions, staid and allied to the past, seeimied to call for a native art in history, domestic scenes and landscape. The plain modern costume introduced by West was demanded by the American habits and character; while the wild forest scenery of the New Continent, especially in the gorgeous dress of aututin, opecned an entirely new field in nature for the artist's study. The Northern, Southern, Middle and Western States, all combined to supply this national demand. Gilbert Charles Stuart, born at Narragansett, Rhode Island, in 1756C), having received early instruction foiuo a Scotch painter, went to London in 1778, where West became his teacher. In 1781 he developed such power in portrait that George III., Sir Joshua 1]eynolds and Louis XVI. sat for him. Returning to America in 1 793, he executed that master work, the head of VWashington, of which he afterward made several copies. Living till 1828, the great mien of two generations in the Ameiican republic have been preserved in nmemory by his art. Stuart excelled in seizing the characteristic expression, and in the life-like freshness and glow of nis flesh color. The head was always his chief study; the drapery he often left unfinished, or threw it into deep shade to give greatcer prominence to the strong lighlt on the features. 30 ART CRITICISM. Jolhn Trumbull, born at Lebanon, Connecticut, in 1756, was led by the paintings of Smibert and Copley to devote himself to art. Entering the American army at nineteen, his skill in drawing in fluenced Washiington to appoint him one of his aids. In iMay 1780 he sailed for France, went to London and hecalle a pupil of West. Shortly after the war he painted "The Battle of Bunker Hill," and "The Death of Montgomery;" which subjects not altoge,ther suiting the English taste, he painted "The Sortie at Gibraltar," whose exhibition gave him a wide reputation as excelling in battle scenes. Returning to America in 1789, he devoted his life till his death at New York in 1843, chiefly to portraits. In 1817, he began the four historic pieces in the rotunda of the National Capitol. The Trumbull gallery of Yale College contains fifty-seven of his pictures. The figures in Trumtbull's pictures have more merit than the backgrounds; their chief value being the correctness of the portraits introduced. Edward G. Mialbone, born at Newport, Rhode Islan(d,. in 1777, learnitgl his art firom watching the work of sene-pailters, at seventeen began miniature painting at Providence; whence in 1796 he removed to Boston. With Washington Allston, he went in 1800 to Charleston, South Carolina; after which hle visited London and several American cities. Allston, his admirer, speaks of his portraits as "elevating the character without impairing the likeness." Samuel Finley Breese Morse, afterward fa,,ous as the inventor of the electric telegraph, born at Charlestown, Massachusetts, A. D. 1791, after graduating in 1810 at Yale College, went to London to study art under WVest; where he modeled a dying Hercules which won the gold medal at the Adelphi Exhibition in 1]813. Returning home in 1815, he aided in the organization of the "National Academy of Design," in New York; spent some years in Europe, became a professor in the University of New York; and having done much for the general advancement of art, devoted himself to his great work as inventor of the electric telegraph. Amnong other New England artists, Chester Harding, Alvan Fisher and Gilbert Stuart Newton, adorned their profession in the early part of the present century. In the Aliddle States, Charles Wilson Peale, born in Chester, Maryland, 1741, having received some instruction at home, went in 1770 to England. Returning, he painted portraits chiefly at Phila 350 PE.A:lE, VANDERI,YN, LESLIE AND ALI,STON. 351 delphia. He contributed much to the advancenment of art by the establishment of a nmuscumi and the founding of the Pennsylvalia Acadeimy of the Fine Arts. JRembrandt Peale, son of the fonrler, born 1778, at eight years was skilled in drawing, and at eighteen years was engaged in portrait painting at Charleston, South Carolina. In 1801 hle went to London and studied uLi(ler W(ret, then to Paris. Returning in 1809, he settled in lhilal{lJli;i. P'ortiait was his chief field; as also of his cousins, Sarah and Ann. John Vanderlyn, born at Kingston. New York, 1776, at sixteen years began study under Stuart, and in 1796, under the patronage of Aaron Burr, went to Paris. His "M arius at Carthage" won the gold medal at Paris in 1808S, and an enconliumn fiomn Napoleon. In 1815 Yanderlyn settled in New York. His "Landing of Columbus," in the Capitol at WIashlington, is one of his best works. Asher Brown Durand, born in Jefferson, New Jersey, in 1796, by his falmed engraving of T'rumbull's Declaration of Independence, was brought into public notice. In ] 835, abandoning engraving, he began to paint portraits, then devoted himself to historic thenmes, and then to ideal and natural landscape. He excels in idyllic expression, and is distingruished for truth in color anrid tone. Charles Robert Leslie, born in 1794, residing firom early childhood in Philadelphia, at nineteen visited England and studied under WIest and Allston. Choosing the humorous writers of Eingland and the Continent for his study, his scenes firom Shakspeare and Sterne, Cervantes and MIoliere, gave him a wide popularity. His composition is expressive, and his execution elaborate in finish. Henry Inman, born in Utica, New York, A. D. 180], trained to portrait painting for seven years, after an eminent practice visited England in 1844, where he painted the portraits of Macaulay, Chalmers and Wordsworth; sketching also in landscape Wordsworth's favorite haunt, "Rydal Water." A series of historical works for the U. S. Capitol was left unfinished at his decease, in 1846. Washington Allston, born at Waccamaw, South Carolina, in 1779, fond of art in childhood, associated at college and after his graduation with Mlalbone, first gave his genius its bent in skletching, comic and tragic scenes, especially pictures of bandits in wild caves. Going with MIalbone to London in 180], he studied three A RT CRITI(CISM. years under West, then spent sonie months in thle galleries of the Louvre at Paris. thlelce aain el)piried to tlonle. where he becanme intinimate with Coleiidge, tlhe poet, ani(d Tlilorwal(lIsen, the sculptor, remainingi four years. At London his early Sciiltuie thecies pro cured him princelv patronage, revealing exalted imlaginition. RIe turning in 1818 to Boston, religious thenmes occupied hi fobr twelve years; his mnethod bein, subdued by the clhastening, of age and experience. A design conceived in 1817 as a great lifh-woik, "Belshazzar's FIeast," led hini to decline filling a panel in the National Capitol with a historic picture. On Satur-(dlay nig,ht, July 9, 1843, after a week of constant toil on this woik, aud an evenig) of pleasant converse with his family and fiiends, he suddenly and gently fell asleep in death. The unfinished pieture, now in the Boston Athenaum, is a monuiiienit symbolic of its author's life; glowing with unearthly loftiness of sentiment, the effort at whose utterance exhausted the spirit that sought to give it foirm. After Allston, Sully and Fraser brought credit to the State of South Carolina. Thonias Sully, born in England(l, A. D. ]1783 brought at nine years to Charleston, S. C., at twenty settled in Richinlod, Va., as a portrait paitliter, and six years later renioved to Philadelphia. His "Washinigton Ciossing the Delaware" is a gem of his leisure. On a visit to EnI,gland he painted a portrait of Victoria. Thomas Cole. born in England in 1801, in 1819 was lrought to Steubenville, Ohio. An acquaintance with an itineiant portrait ptainter led him, with colors and implemnents of his own manufacture, to attempt landscape sketching. At twenty-one, after a tour on foot of about two years anid the bold scenery about Pittsburg, he came to Philadelphia as a landscape paintei. Proceeding to New York in 1825, Trumnbull and others recognized himn as one of Nature's great masters. Here he originated the American school in landscape. Rambling for weeks among the fIighlnads, and ex tending his tours even to Niagara and the White Mlountains, he sketched the varied forms and hues with a simiplicity and truth, with a living expressiveness in outline, arid a naturalniess of color that captivated every belholder. Attemlptirng ideal themes, as the "(J'aiden of Eden," the popular taste preferred his hniiie scenes. In 1829, Cole visited London and painted thecre two years; and in t831, roaiued in Italy till its sublime mountains and miagic atmios 352 COI,E, AND FEATUPES OF AMERPICAN PAINTING. 353 phere were photographed on his memory. Returning to New Yoi-k in 18,92, he executed five large picturies, styled "The Coiurse t,f EInspire," for Lyiiian Rleed, of Newv Yoirk; adding those genms the "DIeain of Arcadia" and'"oyage of Life." In 1841. ievisiting Italy and Sicily, he atteimpted a successionl of views, which lha.tteiicd his death in 1848. His last works, like those of niost iiien of ripest genius, assumed a religious tuiii. SECT. 6. TITE CItARACTERISTICS OF AMIERICAN NATIONALITY AND CIIRISTIANITY, AS I)EVELIOPED IN A COMPREITIENSIVE TYPE AND ELEVATED STYLE OF NATIVE ART IN PAINTING. As in the Afiican colonies of Phlcenicia. and the Asiatic colonies of Greece, the highest national energy in science, art and lit(iratuie, was developed, so the first emigrants fiiom S)ain, France, Germany, Holland and Great Britain to America, were thle Inore eneirgetic, not only of the nDiddle or civilizing, but also of the noble or iuling classes in European society. Their civil governlient and thleii religious associations have taken, as a natural consequence, a peculiarlly independent cast; which necessarily has reacted upon the style of their art. 'Ihe artists of America, German and Italian, English and native, have shown the peculiarities of their nationalities; the Gerltian revolutionaryv, the Italian conservative in political and religious tendencies; the English less distinctive in caste. Aienican scehol-irs and artists naturally tend to comprehensive views, and to a conservttive course in both politics and religion; the reflex of which spirit is taking form in their works of art. Without invidious comparison, a few artists must be named as examples of classes. As copies from old masters, Paul Balz6's " School of Athens," and some of J. K. Fisher's later Venetian masters, have long been admired. In portrait every leading city has its favorite artists. In aboriginal history Stanley's Indian )ortiraits are invaluable; while in American history proper Weir's "Emibailkation of the Pilgrins," and WIalker's "Battle of Chla)iiltepl)e," are links in a seriecs. In genie, Iluntin,(gton hais won pratise. In higher p)assion, Rothermel is showing decided genius; his "l 1aul befo)re A grippa," beingr, unlike Raplael's ideal, true to trladition; while his " Chliistian Mlartyrs in the Coliseumnl,'' in architectural background, in the action of the picture, in the cex 30 ART CRITICISM. pression of the chief figures, and in the aerial effects, is a masterwork. Fresco is attaining in Bruinidi a worthy Amerlican character. In landscape, especially in distant aerial effects, AmierictLi artists have originated a distinct school. While Leutze has recast Venetian sky, a class of artists have caught the mantle of Cole in American scenery. The twilight landscapes of Weber are fairylike in aerial and ground tints; the sky of Church's "Cotopaxi," "Heart of the Andes," and "Niagara," is as rare in art as the subjects of his sketches are in nature; and Bierstadt's master-works, uniting both these fields, have established a new school in the history of coloring. The lack of the religious element in the designs of American artists is calling forth frequent comment. Allston, drawn by hlis early affliction to religious studies, and for it sacrificing public patronage and popular fame, is an exception in American art. The devotion, however, of West and Cole in their advanced and declining days, like that of Newton, Grotius and the mass of the ablest men of science, and statesmen in France, England and America, indicates that when American genius is directed to this field it will show a depth of conviction, an intelligence of faith, an inspiration of hope, and a zeal of love entirely new in the history of Christian art. As American scholars, aside from the prejudice of national and ecclesiastical predilections, have analyzed Christian traditions, local and historical, with an independence and candor of jud,gment impossible in men of any European nationality, so, with their skill in natural landscape and their personal intelligence in Christian truth, the climactic field of art, the union of a lofty ideal of the Divine "Word made flesh" with the perfect transcript of the scenes of his actual life, may be realized by American painters. 354 BOOK VI. LANDSCAPE-GARDENING; THE GROUPING OF NATURAL OB JECTS TO SECURE ARTISTIC EFFECTS OF FORM, COI.OR, RELATION AND MOTION. A GARDFN is a work of man designed for utility; a laIndsccpe is a creation of the Dirvine hand moulded and grouped to produce the impression of beauty. A ladl.scape-garde is a comnposite creation; the artist availing himself of the outline already furnished by Divine skill, removing the defects of Nature's decay, and adapting for dwelling-places what otherwise would be fitted only for the abode of animials. Lord Kamies says, "Gardening is not an inventive art, but an imitation of nature, or rather nature itself adorned." Landscape-gardening appeals primarily to the eye, presenting the united beauties of form, of color, of relation, and of motion; yet addresses the other senses; adding the odor of flowers, the flavor of fi'uits, the refreshing of shade. and the charmn of the insects' humni and of the birds' warble. It is an art open in its treasures to all; the flower-beds of the cottager and the park of the noble feasting the ele alike of every passer-by. The garden, too, is the first and the last of human delights; the traditional abode of man in his purity and perfection, before sculpture and architecture existed; the home of the blest hereafter in the Greek Hesperides, the Roman Elysium, the Mohammedan Paradise, and the Apocalyptic Christian Heaven. Not only passive enjoyment but delightful employ is furnished in the landscape-garden. As in Eden, the first pair were to "dress and keep" the garden, so in all cultured ages and nations it has been the art earliest practised because of its utility, yet last per?ected as a work of beauty. Lord Bacon's philosophic statement is, " Man came to build stately sooner than garder finely; as if gardening were the greater perfection." 355 ART CRITICISM. CHAPTER I. TIlE EFFECTS TO BE SOUGIIT IN LANDSCAPE-GARDENING. LANDSCAPE gardening, broad in its sensual appeals, is restricted in its spiritual addresses. All the varied inllipressions of the mnind made through the eye, the beautiful, the grand, the picturesque, the novel, the grotesque, the tragic and the colhic, l)eloiig to this art; as also the appeals to all the lower senses. The range of moral inm)pressions, hlowev-er, is restricted in lIandse.ape-gairdening; its delights awakening less directly than other fine arts the emnotions called forth by human associations, by the higher social virtues, or by the religious affctions. SECT. 1. THE GENERAL END OF ORDER AND SYMIMETRY, COINCIDINa WITH UTILITY, IN LANDSCAPE-GAIPI)ENING. The first element of beauty in a gairden is, as Kaimes and other critics agree, order in the arrangelment and syiniuetry in the proportion of parts. Order demands that pa.ths lhave a central dividing avenue with equal subdivisiolns, and that plants be ranged ill beds according to their size, increasing firom the ceutrte. Snyiiiietly demuands that in rectangular plots a fixed mieasure control the length and breadth. In the broader work of laying out a public garden, park or cemnetery, winding avenues must so intersect as not to mnar each othler's outline; and the clumps and lines of trees of different sizes and forims iiiust so succeed as to aid each other's effect. In a Roman cityresidence the little court-yard back of the entrance was as matheiatically exact in all its imeasurements as a diagram in Euclid. This controlling method, handed down through the Mliddle Ages. when introduced into France and Englind, worked sad havoc for a time amid the wooded knolls of the British ]sles. That the sinlple laws of order and syiniacetriy so long ruled alone, even to the exclusion of higher principles, is sufficient testiniony tlhat they are perinanent elements, never to be overlooked in this art. 356 GRANDEUR AND PICTURESQUENESS IN LANDS'APE. 357 SECT. 2. THE GENERAL AIM[ OF GRANDEUR IN EXTENT AND PIC TURESQUENE-SS IN GROUPING, CONSPIRING WITh ELEGANCE IN FORMIS AND RICHNESS IN COLOR. Kent had already called attention to this second aim in landscapegirderuing when Lord Kaines wrote: "Gardeiing, besidles the emotions of beauty firoom regularity, order, proportion, color and utility, can raise emotions of grandeur, of sweetness,'of gtyety, of iiilancholy, of wildness and even of surprise and wonder." The attaiiiiiig of true grandeur, beauty with massiveness or in wide extelit, sought in architecture by M. Angelo anrid in sculpture by I'iiilias, belongs to the great Architect of' natur'e in landscape. L,iidic,ape-gardening, taking advantag,e of his methods and his miaterial in the ratnge of wood aind field, of hill and dale, may miost fully secure this effect. The "picturesque" requires the opposite of order in somne portions of a work. Sir. Richard Mlorris makes thle picturcsque to consist in " unfinished" as opposed to " finished" fiorins. As Phidias made the very roughness of 3Iinervat's brow give polish to tlhat very feature when seen in the distance, so, as R,uskin contends, in a laniidscape-garden a rock that would be a bleni;ili if the wild brush around it were removed, may, in a vista view, give a grace which no pruning could effect. Lord Kamies su,gg,ests that though "nature in organized bodies, comprehended under one view, studies regularity," yet she "in her large works neglects these properties;" and hence in " emibellishing a field... the artist oughlt to neglect them." In the picturesque, however, the general outline of forms must be elegant and the colors rich. The skill requisite is so to group the finished and unfinished portions of the landscape, by pleasing juxtaposition of contrasted objects, as of a tangled copse and a shlorn lawn, of an ivy-covered wall and a cleared grove, of a wild cascade and a neatly-walled lake, that the aspect of slovenly ne-lect do not prevail over that of elegant carelessness. So, too, whatever the clime, the colors of' foliage and flowers, of buildings and fences, must possess in themselves a richness which shall not allow an unpleasant impression from a near view to mar in remembrance the pleasure of the distant prospect. Eve's work in l'ara(lise was "to support" each flower of "gay carnation, purple, azure, gold," ARPT CRITICISM. whose head would otherwise "hang drooping," and thus its richness be lost to view. SECT. 3. THE SPECIAL EFFECTS OF ASSOCIATION; AS THE NOVEL OR VENERABLE, THIE NATIVE OR FOREIGN, TIIE ENLIVENING OR DEPRESSING. The power of association may be secured in landscal)e-gardeIingg nmore fully than in any other art; especially the ilmpressions of the novel and the venerable, of the native and the foreign. Novelty may be attained both in new forms and new groupings. In the flower-garden every shower gIves fuller shape and size and adds fireshened tints; and autumn fiosts paint vast panoramas with sober, yet gorgeous hues. Yet nmore, by new groupings of fanmiliar plants and trees and new selections of rare flowers and shrubs, as well as in architectural and sculptural decorations and in animal accessories, variety may be attained. The Chinese are noted for the surprises introduced into their gardens; the gardens of Versailles have an excess of quaint devices in hedges and fountains; and the Hebrew Solomon had exotic plants and even apes and peacocks brought from India for his pleasure-gardens. The counterpart of love for the novel is reverence for the venerable. A dilapidated wall, a broken column, a fi'agienrt of a statue, or even a dead tree covered with ivy, recalls days bygone. The fondness for the antique led the Romans to bear off obelisks from Egypt and statues from Greece to adorn their city and suburban villas; while the Chinese, showing the more the naturalness of this impulse from its rude development, introduce old trees artificially transplanted. Lord Kamnes, with a nice analysis, suggests that the Gothic is more appropriate than Grecian in gardening, because "the Gothic exhibits the triumph of time over strength, a melancholy but not unpleasant thought;" while "a Grecian ruin su,ggests rather the triumph of barbarity over taste, a gloomy and discouraging thought." As the mingling of the new and venerable gives pleasing contrasts in time, so the blending of the native and foreign give a kindred contrast in place. Every maiden seeks some rare plant or bird; and the conservatory of exotics and the park of foreign animals are chief centres of attraction in every public garden. Some bold designer has suggested for the environs of the American Capital, 358 MOTION AND LIFE IN LANDSCAPE. an enclosure of some miles in area in which sections be planted, stocked and peopled by the trees, animals and men of the three continents of the Old World. With power of moral adaptation the gardens on the Bosphorus decked with gay flowers and cheerful shrubbery, sparkling with glittering waters and enlivened by warbling birds, may give exhilaration; the quiet grove of Academus may woo to reflection; or the venerable olives of Gethsemane may dispose the soul to prayer. The church-yard, too, more worthy of study, may, with niosscovered stone and bramble-carpeted grave, make death seeni gloomy and the tomb dreary; with gay flowers and lively scull)ture, it may give the associations of holiday dissipation; or, again, with the drooping willow and dark clustering myrtle, it may awaken that equable impression which seems fittest at the tomb. SECT. 4. TIlE SPECIAL EFFECTS OF MOTION, APPARENT OR REAL; IN UNDULATION OF SOIL, IN RUNNING WATER, IN WAVING FORMS AND SUSCEPTIBILITIES OF TREES, AND IN ANIMATE CREATURES. In Grecian art the apparent motion of the beings that seemed to live in the marble and on the tablet was the distinguishing feature. In landscape motion may be both apparent and real. In land called "undulating," not only is the superficial extent increased, as by the flutes on columns, but the eye and the feet in moving over such a surface seem to feel the billowy movement of the sea. In water there is real motion; the gentle ripple on the lake, the gliding slide of the running stream, the vase-shaped curve of the waterfall or fountain-jet, being chief charms in landscape.since the days of primitive Eden. Even the indication of the presence of water, as the encircling shells around the basins in the little court-yards of the old Roman houses at Pompeii, awaken a peculiar delight. The motion of plants has also its charm. The aspen's quiver in the calmest air, the rocking of the golden grain in the zephyr. the swaying of the elm's broad top and the floating, like streamers, of the willow-boughs in the gentle breeze, as well as the rocking of the maple anal the oak before the storm, inspire the beholder. Animate creatures give a double attraction.'I'hle lawn and the forest are the home of the browsing sheep and the gnawing squirrel; while the picketed deer and water fowl, and even he chained 359 ART CRITICISM. bear and caged eagle in thecmselves, and the associations of the place are the delight of a park. SECT. 5. TIlE RARE RESORT TO FICTITIOUS EFFE(rCTS; AS TIHE IMI TATIVE, THE DECEPTIVE, TIIE GTROTESQUE. Hogarth dwells on intricacy as a fascination in art. The inmpulse which makes children ifond of riddles and puzzles and youth of involved plots in roiiiance, which stimiulates the hunter and explorer in tracekiig intricate iuountain-passes, led IMiltonii to picture as a charmti of Eden, the witchery of "crisped brooks," which " ran with miazy error under pendant shades." In attenmpts by imitation to awaken pleasing deception, natural effects should seem to be produced by a natural cause. An artificial rock mniade of loose stones should be so covered with vines as to hide the junctures; a brick arched grotto should, by a mastic coating, be made to appear stone; and a fountainjet should rather issue firom the snout of a whale or elephant tlhin fironom the mouth of a dolphin or the beak of a swan. Bronze lions or dogs chained at a gate, or even stuffed deer or birds half hidden ainolng the foliage, are legitimate deceptions; though foliage cut into animial forms is illegitimate, since it is less even of a deception than of an imitation. The garden is the legitimate field for the grotesque. The natural location of a grotto is a shaded hill-side; whence Miltcn introduced into the first garden of miian, " umbrageous grots and caves." But, if nature has not furnished a hill-side, an artificial mound mlay serve as a grotto. As the reptile seeks the dark shade of the grotto for his burrow, the garden-grotto is the select repository for this class of sculpture. In the oak carving of a dark old lizard-haunted castle, however, such forms may be appropriate. SECT. 6. STUDIES IN SCIENCE AND ART RELATING TO LANDSCAPE GARDENING, AND REQUISITE TO TIIE MASTE1R IN TIIIS ART. In gardening, as in the other fine arts, the scienrce of his profession is essential to unifoirm success in the master; and to the mere student it is the main object of acquisition. In geometly, whose name originlate(l in the necessity of restoring field-bounds in Egypt everiy year after the Nile's overflow, famlillarity with every variiety of rectangular and curvilinear figure is 360 MATERIAL FOR EFFECTS IN LANDSCAPE. 361 essential to the landscape plotter. The principles of descriptive geolletry and optics, also. as they relate to perspective, arc essential for the study of effects in landscape in the distance. In useful and ornamental gardening, agricultural chemistry as well as botany andl vegetable Iphysiology are requisite in the selection and training of )lanIts. Of' the wisest of mcei we are told that "he spake of trees, froin the cedar that is in Lebanon even unto the hyssop that spriiigeth out of the wall;" and thle sweetest of Roman poets, the gr, ceful and pensive Virgil, has in his Georgics and Bucolics sholwn the dignity as well as the extent of the science of plant-study and culture which the lmaster in gardeiiing mnay attain. In art as well as in science the successful gardener must be an adept. To accomplish the effects sought in color and forini, relation and motion, the principles of design, the analysis and asthlietic power of hues and tints, and a power in combining and grouping akin to composition in painting, niust be attained. CHAPTER II. THE MATERIALS BY WHICH THE EFFECTS OF LANDSCAPE-GARDEN ING ARE SECURED. THE variety in material employed by sculptors and painters, the marble of Lebanon, Pentelicus and Carrara, and the ochres of India, of Egypt and Greece, found in three continents, are substantially one. The range of the landscape-gardener takes in every variety of inorganic material, as earth, stone and wood, and every class of organic creation as herb, shrub and tree, bird, reptile and quadruped. In sculpture and architecture the entire form, and in painting the color, is to be the artist's work. In gardening part of the forms and all color are furnished in nature, and only their grouping belongs to the artist. The land and its undulations and covering of green are natural elements to be wroulght by his skill into fit surroundings for an abode of mani. Thie house to shelter him, the stalls for the beasts that serve, the fences and the out-houses that 31 Q ART CRITICISM. add defence, convenience and conifort to his domain, are artificial parts of the one whole. The securing of l hariiioiy in grounds and buildings, the hnppy combination of the natural with the artificial, makes the whole a composition worthy to be ranked as a high art. SECT. 1. THE STR CTUERE OF THE SU,EFACE OF TIIE GROUND TO BE ADORNED; AS THY-, CONTROLLING NATURAL FEATUIE IN LAND SCAPE-GARDENING. The structure of the ground, whether a sandy plain, a meadow of dark nmould, a rolling succession of gravelly hills, or a rocky mountain-side, is fixed by nature; and the cast of edifices to be erected and the choice of plants to be reared must be miade dependent on this structure of surface as the leading feature. The eye of taste, indeed, may search for a spot presenting the greatest variety for the acconmpli:hinent of its ends; as the Roiiiaiis followed up the Anio for miles to select sites fitted for their favorite villas. When selected, however, the surface of the ground must control the natural, and to a certain extent the artificial ornamenltation of its face. In a level country, carriage and foot-paths and especially fieldbounds, demand straight lines; for though a serpentine avenue is allowable in a level garden, a curved field-bound would be unnatural. On the other hand, there is a habit in animnal instinct, which thus becomes a law of nature, to seek a winding path over an eiminence; the camnel in a mountain path, the dray-horse on a steep avenue, the cattle browsing on a hill-side, making for themnselves a serpentine path; guided by which instinct of the animal, the roadbuilder in a new region is led to the most accessible pass. The landscape-gaidener wars with nature who lays out straight avenues on an undulating surface; as does the engineer who cuts a high road straight over an eminence even when to wind gracefully around its base would save labor and distance. True taste again would muake the outline of a lake in a deep valley not an unvarying ellipse, but in curves confoi-nicd to the foot of the hill-slopes around; and it would place a grotto in the steepest side. where rock, if not present, is indicated by the precipitous slope. Still following nature also, it would fiinge the like witlI willows, and sprinkle cedars on the rocky heights; for while the monarch of TL,ebanon miay be transplanted to the Garden of Plants 362 STYLE OF BUILDING ADAPTED TO LANDSCAPE. 363 at Paris, and the palm may tower in [lyde Park at London, the cedar must be planted on a bleak, rocky hill-side and the palm in a sunny and sheltered nook. SECT. 2. TiliF STYLE OF BUILDINGS TO BE ERECTED; AS TIIE LEAD ING ARTIFICIAL FEATURE IN LA',NDSCAPE-GARDENING. As surface of ground is the controlling natural feature in landscape, so the style of architecture chosen is the leading artificial feiature. Thlis suggests, first, the ciirctumstances which liust inlflluence choice in architectural style; second, the extent to which harimony requires adherence to one style. The general design of private buildings is always the same; a nmansion requiring servants' quarters, stables, barns and granary; also arbe, s and conservatories. From the nmansion the other structures should take their type. The demnands of surface require that a Swiss cottage should be nestled under a steep hill; that a square inansion with broad Chinese verandah, stand on an open field with a suinny exposure; and that Grecian colonnade, Italian villa and French chateau structures, be located on a surface slightly undillating. The necessities imposed by climate relate ulore to colnpactness of walls than to general structure. Tile requisites of niiiaterial are that Grecian types be of lighlt-colored, in fact, of white material, Egyptian of neutral gray, and Gothic of dark-colored stone; pure marble for Grecian, granite for Egyptian, and red sandstone for Gothic, beiiing a rule of exacting taste. AWhile harmony with the grounds fixes the general style chosen, harmony in buildings as a whole suggests added principles. In general all buildings coming into one range of view should accord with each other in style. In a small private enclosure there is but one main view; but in extended grounds each range of hills, or shaded avenue, may have separate fields adapted to diverse architectural structures; as is admirably effected in the Villa Borg,hese, where the styles of Egypt, of Greece, and of later ages are recoilstructed in different sections of the grounds. The chapel of a cemetery may be a Grecian temple standing on a gentle eminence or in an open field, or a Gothic cathedral amid a thick surrounding shade; while the tombs and monuments in each cluster or range should be of the same class, whether Egyptian or Roman, Grecian or (othic. ART CPRITICISNIM. SECT. 3. THE BOUNDING LIMITS OF GROUNDS; FENCES SUNKEN OR RAISED, DITCIIED OR TERRACED; PAL:INGS OF WOOD ()R OF IRON; WVALLS OF BRICK OR OF STONE; AND IIEDGES OF SIIRIUBBERY. Fences designed for protection, chiefly fiom cattle, require adequate strerngthl. Art deniands that they be made to Secili a niatural rather than an artificial limit. The sulrfatce of the glrould Ind the material furnished are controlling guides in the construction of fences. In undulating fields fences winding through the depressions are hidden; on a hill-side an emlbankmlent wall with a low open fence leaves the view least obstructed; while on a level field a fence should be a tall hedge or an ol)en paling of wood or iron. In utter violation of this principle, Close high fences around private gardens give a prison-like confine cnt, disaigreea)le to the prioprietor, annoying to the passer-by denied his just public enjoymiecit, and injurious to the plants themselves shut out fromt the cooling breeze. The supply of material generally corresponds to the nature of surfiace; both harmionizing in the style of fences appropriate. Stone for embankment walls and terraces generally abounds in hIilly, and wood in diry low grounds; while in marshy lands, as Egypt and Holland, willow-bordered ditches harmIlonize nature and art. In the limiited enclosures of a cemetery, lightness united to strength commends open iron-work, either wire-netting, chains or foliated castings, as also small hedges, SECT. 4. THE WALKS AND DRIVES; DEPENDENT AS TO DIRECTION AND CURVATURE UPON INEQUALITIES AND OBSTRUCTIONS OF GROUNDS, AND ON THE POSITION OF TIIE PRINCIPAL BUILDINGS. In carriage-drives and foot-paths, designed to give access to grounds and buildings, art requires that varied and pleasing views be afforded; an end best secured by a curved avenue. Before a mansion in an open level field, a siiiooth lawn from the higlihway to the end of the niansion, with a straight avenue of shade trees at one side, furnishes in separate features the richest pnssible variety. On grounds slightly sloping, a single uniformll cauL've is most tasteful; while over an undulating surface a winding, approach of gradual rise and sweep is miost desirable. Foot-paths in open 364 WAT,KS ANT) POOl,S; 1,OCATIONS OF PLANTS. 365 grounds, as a vegetable or flower-garden. naturally assume strai,ght lines; while in a grove the zigzag course nlecessaly to pass obstructionIs makes the serpentine the preferred line of a wooded path. The question hlow fli natural obstructions, such as rocks and old trees, deep dells and sharp acclivities, should be left undisturbed, long discussed in English gardening, turns on the decision, what are perlnanent and what accidental features. A stumIp as a mark of tlhe unfinished work of the woodman is unsightly by a road-side; but a sweep of a few feet to save a nobl-)e tree awakens pleasure, since it is a preserved work of the Creator. A low ragged rock seems no sufficient obstacle to give turn to a carriage road; yet in a flot-oathi it is a legitimiate occasion for a bend. In general the principle of nature, always that of beauty, will be sufficiently sugges.tive in the arranging of the drives and walks of a landscape. SECT. 5. TIlE CONDUCT OF WATER, DEPEI)NDENT ON SLOPE OF GROUNDS; AND ITS EMIPLOY IN FOUNTAINS, RILLS AND POOLS. Water in groundis is requisite for plants and domestic aninials; and is desirable to give swiiimiing space for water-fowl and a bathing place for aniiials and mien. In the introduction and conduct of water in landscape, ruled as it is by the firce of gravity, the slope of the ground is a controlling feature; the flow of a rill depending on declivity, and a lake being naturally located in a plain or mleadow. A jet, though appropriate in a narrow court-yardl, in extended groulnds seems more natural in a valley or on a hill-side. As a narrow enclosure offers little variety in the conduct of water, it requires special adornmenit of the fountain-jet and basin; as is illustrated in ancient Pomipeii, where the basin of the fountain in the little court-y-ard of private houses is tastefully decorated with sea-shells and giroups of niniature animals. In the larger gardens of ancient and mniodern tiimes art has exhausted its skill in designs for the improvemient of this feature. SECT. 6. TITE LOCATION OF TIILLED LANDS AND USEFUL PLANTS; AS YEGETABILE-GCAIII)ENS, FRUIT-ORCIIARDS, WHIEAT-FIEL,DS, GRASS AND PA\STDUI:'-LANI)S. The field-be(ls, of wliche fences, roads and water-couirses are but borders, are occup)ied by two classes of products: useful and oi'iamental plants. I ai ill larger suburban retreats, utility is the main 31 -i ART CRITICISAM. end; and to what an extent beauty may conspire withl usefulness the ancient EIgyptian and Romnan, and the iiodern Chinese and English gardens are interesting testimonials. Universal taste has suggested that a vegetable garden should be in the rear, not in front of a mansion; and if necessarily located so as to be seen in flont, that it be shielded by a flower-border, a hedge or a row of flowering shrubs. In grouping tilled land, hay-fields and pasturage, regard should be paid to their relative position. The early and short grains, as wheat, show to best advanttage in front of the taller iiaize; and a hay-field, always green, appears best inteirvening between the high road or drive and the tilled lands. Oilchards should be in the rear of tilled grounds and of a kitchen garden. In their position relativclv to each other, in fruit as in ornamental trees. reg(ard should be paid to forms, as the drooping peach and erect cherry; and also to color of foliage and blossoms. Low grounds in the reai of tilled grounds foria appropriate pasturage; but an enclosed park for deer, or a lawn for sheep, is an attractive ornament of firont grounds. Convenience as well as beauty suggests a rectangular form for fields and beds, the plough necessarily moving in a straight line; while the ornamental portions as naturally take the curved line. SECT. 7. TIHE GROUPING OF ORNAMENTAL PLANTS AND TREES; THE ADJUSTING OF FLOW'ER BORDERS AND STIRUIBBERY; AND) THE AR RANGEAMENT OF GROVES, AVENUES AND CLUMIPS OF TREES, AC CORDING TO CLASS, FORM., COLOR AND MIOBILITY. The classes of ornamental plants are trees, shrubs, floweringstalks and grass-sward. The general form of flower-borders nmust conformn to that of the drives and walk. In court-yards elaborate shapes as stars and varied ovals, may be introduced; but simple are preferable to complicated forms. As to relative position, shrubs require, like trees, independent ioeations; either in lines along drives, or in clurmps upon grassplots. As in summer flowering plants will be the chief charm, and inl winter evergreen shrubs, these should be so intclri-iiigled as to relieve each other. Along drives flowers should be )etweerl, not in fiont of shrubs, and shrubs between yet slightly behind trees; but along foot-paths the reverse order should prevail, shrubs rising 366 GROUPING OF ORNAMfENTAL P,LANTS AN.D TREES. 367 behind flower-bed:,, andi tlees l,.eck (f them. Broad lawns between avenues should be dlotted with chlunmps of shrul)s. In general the arrali,,geinent should be such that larger Shrubs and smaller plants shall be seen in vista- beyond each other. As respects form, tall and tapeiing shrubs, as the arbor-vita, should be made to set off round-topp)ed bushes as the box or holly; and dwarfed shrubs should be beneath the hi,gh boughs of the lilac or althea. The securingt of harmony in color is a more difficult study. As in making up a bouquet the just gradation of colors according to the laws of conltrast aind collmplement, the shading of the livnelv into the sombrc, and the relieving of the whole by a b.ackground of green, requires the skill of an artist, so does the grouping, of the natural flowers in a landsca)e-garden. Ornamental trees, the grand feature of public parks and private grounds, are designed for both shade and ornament. Without them the thoroughfares of villages and cities would be intolerable, while as ornaments, fromn their size they conspire to grandeur as well as beauty. Groves are naturally formed of native forest growth and of one class of trees. As favorite resorts for a quiet ramble, or as gathering places for open-air discourse, poets have had in groves their sweetest dreams, and philosophers, as opposite as Plato and Epi curus, have found their shade minister alike to the most ideal of spiritual breathings, and to the grossest of sensual pleasures. Avenues required to line walks and highways admit trees of greater variety, since they are supposed to be transplants; yet being designed for shade they require chiefly trees with broad tops and thick foliage. Clumps are designed for ornament merely; and therefore admit every form and variety. Originally they are the natural forest growth, left simply to save labor on rocky ridges; they reach their rarest perfection when an extensive meadow, de voted to this end, grows for years under the eye and hand of a genuine amniateur as an ever-improving gem of art. In the grouping of clumps nice gradation of class, formn, color and mobility, is called into exercise. The winter's stripping re quires that the bare limli)s of deciduous trees lhave as a relief the spruice, cedir ald pine. green duringr winter; the corners of inter secting pathls especially demianding such landmarks in the season of frost. The form of' trees is an element of effective harnmony or of A RAT CRTITICTSfM. expressive sentiment; the most enchanting effect being produced by a skillfiul sucecession iin t vista of conicil firs aud spruces, of the oval Iall)e and poplar, the acoin-shapl)ed oak and chestnut, and the umbrella-toplped willow and elm; while to the iMohlanimiedan the tall, conical, sky-pointing cvpress, aiid to the Chlristian, the drooping form of the wveeping willow is a fit mionitor at the grave. Color, too, adds a pleasing effect when at each step the vista changes from the dark bottle-green of the fir, through the varied shades of green and yellow, to the snow-white of the silver-leaved poplar. The most sublimie effects of motion, too, may be achieved by the skillful grouping of the aspen, the willow and the eln. SECT. 8. ARTIFICIAL ACCESSORIES; AS SCULPTURED FORMS; RUSTIC SEATS, ARBORS AND GROTTOES FOR REST; AND SWINGS, VEHICLES AND BOATS FOR MIOTION. Besides the buildings essential as abodes, arbors for occasional shelter may be made the gems of a landscape; while sculptured forms may decorate enclosures too small for architectural oi-rna llentation. The idea of the ancient Germans alluded to by Tacitus has peopled groves and rocky heights with rural deities; making the open air of the garden a chief field for sculpture. A large portion of the works of Grecian sculptuIre have been rescued firom villas; colossal vases and rustic deities being the ornament of groves and fountains. Funereal monuments especially are companions of the green sod that covers the dead. Among the smaller erections of gardens the simplest is the rustic seat under trees, the more conformed to nature in material and structure the more truly artistic; a moss-covered bank, a stone smoothly hewn, a lounge formed of knotty boughs and vinebranches, or an iron seat cast in imitation of foliated and intertwining, boughs. In open ground a canopy as well as a seat is required; an extemporized booth made of boughs of trees; an open wooden frame covered with creeping vines; or a richly adorned Asiatic kiosk. For deeper seclusion from heat, the grotto liis always been a resort; either natural cavities in a rocky hill-side, oir rude masonry in a thicket. In larger grounds a swing hung upon a striong oak or elm, pigniy carriages drawn by neatly harnessed goats, light row-boats after the 368 ARTIFICIAL AND ANIMAL ACCESSORIES. pattern of the Tutrkish caique or Venetian gondola, have in every age and land been miade accessories in pleasture-grounds. SECT. 9. ANIMAL ACCESSORIES; SIALLER AND LARGER QUA)DRUPEDS WILD AND DOMESTIC; BIRDI)S FREE OR CAGED; FISII AND iTEP TILES. The water, the air and the dry land were peopled long ere mian appeared on earth; since which era they have always been needed coinl p aniolis. The domestic animals of the farmi, the horse and the cow, the sheep and the goat, imade to feed upon the herbage unfitted for man, are a pleasure and pride to their possessor; while rare quadrupeds, such as the deer and elk, and the undomesticated hare and squirrel, are a delight in extended country grounds or in an open city square. Besides herbiferous animals, rangiig firee, chliainied or cae'ed beasts of prey, as the native fox and bear, and the leopard and lion of other continents, are garden-denizens suggested by the demands of true art. To quadrupeds will be added fowls. As the firmer prides hiimself upon his "stock," so does the farmer's wife on her'poultiy." To the ordinary domestic fowls the rich landholder adds the peacock and the swan; and besides the pigeon, the swallow and the wren, coveted tenants of the humblest barn, the caged caiiary, niocking-bird and parrot, are favorite enliveners of the siumiiier piazza; and the chained owl and eagle attractions in a public garden. Even fish and reptiles have their place in the garden. The firogs of the ditch and the fish of the brooks give amiusement to youth; the tortoise on the grass and the lizard on the wall give interest even to age; and fromt the sage Aristotle to the simlplest iiimaiden the tiny gold-fish in a glass and the luscious trout in the costly fish-pond will ever be fahvorite accessories in beautified grounds. SECT. 10. CLIMfATE AND SEASONS, BLT,EAK AND SUNNY EXPOSURES, AS INFLUENCING CHIOICE OF PLANTS AND STYLE OF BUILDINGS. In rrounds specially guarded, the effect of climate and changing seasons imay be controlled by conservatories and other shelters. Seeking the ends of utility, hlowever, the firuit-grower fintls that Q 4 369 ART CRITICISfM. the apple and the I)ear inatuie best in a nortlerly, the peach and the I)lln in a mnediuni, the fig and oaiange under a inoie southlerly sky; as also aimong the cereals, rye, wheat and rice have corresIpondent latitudes for healtlhfutl develolnlent. Aiiiong ornanmental shrubs, the hawthoirn, the privet, the arbor vitreo and the osage oriange have each their appropriate latitudes; while in the gardens of Syria and 3Iexico, the cactus, which is a hothouse plant in the north, grows to gi,gantic size, nnd forms a strong and secure hedgc. Aiiioiig shade trees the stately elmi falls a prey to insects in a southerly climie; while the fairest of the oaks, the willow or wateroak, iinever shows itself in a northern forest. The alternation of seasons has a subordinate influence. A large class of' triee.s, as well as of' plats, seeni maide for every clime. In the choice of' plants and trees foir oinament, regaird to season suggests that a cecieteivy hedge, visited alike in sumiiiier and winter, since death has "-ll seasons fobr its own," should be everigreen while in all adoined rounds sDynicnetiy in foliage should be preserv-ed by so interspersing winter's green that no portion may at anv tiiiie look bare and barren. The rest, or sleeping timie of p)lants should be regarded; that of the oak being the winter of the fiigid and the sunimner of the torrid zone; while the corn is planted early and ripens late under a southern sky because of the long suiimmer drought when its growth is arrested. Yet more importance is to be attached to southern as opposed to northern exposure.'I'The degree of heat which the earth receives firom the sun depends mainly upon the perpendicularity and consequent directness with which its rays fall. Any child can test this by holding the back or miore sensitive portion of his hand near a fire; turning the hand so that the rays of heat strike it now in I)perpendicular lines and now at an acute angle. For this reason southern suimmers are not wariimer though longer than northern. The farnmer may indefinitely prolong the growing season by planting his garden upon a sunny southern exposure; and the vintner on the Rliiiie securies an Italian clime almost up to Arctic regionis. Buildings in colder climates require more durable material and mnore compact structure; but suburban residences, desig,ed fi)r the sumiiimer only, natuirally assuiiie eveirywhere the light style of southern latitudes. Special regard, however, should be paid to exposure in the location of' a Imansion; a front due north and 370 ASIA'TIC GARDENING; PARADISE. south, leaving one side perpetually without sunlight and the other blistered by its constant rays; while a house on a northern slope never can be healthful. CHAPTER III. ANCIENT AND ASIATIC STYLES OF LANDSCAPE-GARDENING. WtIII,E gardening, beginning with the works of nature, is the art most conforned in its style to nature's nmethod, the leading peculiarities of country and age, mnarking sculpture, architecture and painiting, will be found to characterize this art. As the early hoiiie of iankind was in Asia, so pIrliiitive gardening was an Asiatic art; the people of that continent retaining this, as other arts, fiomn the earliest period in its original rude stage of advancement. The extreme antiquity of the art is exemplified in the Garden of Eden; its first and rudimentary stages in the Egyptian and Assyrian; its second stage of' advance in the Syrian and PIersian; its culiminating influence in the Grecian and Roiiani; its lingering sway in the early Christian of Southern Europe, while its present type may be studied in lnodern Turkish and Chinese gardens. SECT. 1. THE PRIMITIVE "GARDEN OF EDEN;" AS TIHE PERFECTION OF NATURE AND ART. The sacred and traditional historic fact that man in primitive simnplicity was made to occupy a garden as his happy abode is testiliony to the attraction of this art. As to the fact, conspiring Gr-ecian and Indian traditions are in striking confirmation of the MIosaic narrative. As to location the universal Asiatic tradition, alluded to alike in the Laws of Menu of India, the Zendavesta of Persia and the Koran of Arabia, agree with the HIebrew record in locating it at the headwaters of the Tigris and Eul)hrates, anmong tl(, valleys of the Caucasus, still peopled by the noblest specimens of' the huiiian race. The wide park-like extent of this primitive abode, its "delights," in broad watered valleys, in miountains filled with "every precious 371 AR PT CR.TTTCTS T. stone," its trees giving shade like the "cedar " and affording every va,i'iety of firuit, are pictn,'d 1,' Milto, n in fictio ftun(lded( on reliable te.-tililony. The stIlteiltent tlhat, witlh all its peifeection deiivned fiolm the Cieatoir's lilad, its lordly oeculI)aiit was with lis c)nll)aiilion " to dress and keep it,'" has been in all ages and lands an index to a lofty aspiration in this climactic art. SECT. 2. EGYPTIAN AND ASSYRIAN GARDENS; CONTROLLED IN THEIR FEATURES BY THE SAMENESS OF SURFACE AND RICHINESS OF SOIL BELONGING TO LEVEL RIVER BOTTOMS. Numierous historical allusions, illustrated by the pictured rel)re sentations on the walls of ancient tomibs, and confirned( by modern Ceustoiis, enable us with great accuracy to reconstruct the Egyptian garden of the age of the Pharao]ls. MIoses alludes to Egyptian g-ardens as, "by the river-side," hav ing "cedar-trees" and "gardens of herbs." The sculptures of the tombs picture gardens with rows of dark conical trees on the river bank; and their beds of flowers, clunips of trees, vineyards and fish-pools are geometrically squared. The palmn, the fig, the pomegranate and the vine formed borders; all the processes of culturing and gatheriing are pictured on the toiiibs; whlile in firuit vases deposited with the dead, the fig, prune and various nuts are found preserved. Pools of water are interspersed; in which are growing the lotus and papyrus with their rich lily flowers. Arbors and shrines for deities also rise anid the green. The Assyrian gardens were Egyptian in nmod(lel; the banks of the Euphrates being level like those of the Nile. The ancienit dramatic poem of Job describes theim as tiraversed by streams, with rows of shade trees like the willow along the banks, and clumps of the olive, vine and the firagrant lign-aloes in rocky places; while IHerodotus Diodoi,us and Laayard illustrate these statements of the early (haldean. Diodorus and Strabo give the distinctive idea of both Assyrian and Egyptian gardens in picturing the hanging gardens built by the king of Babylon for his MIedian wife; who in the lnvarying plains of Babylonia sighled for something like her native hills. Those gardens rose in terraces like a pyramnid; having a base four hundred feet square and a perlpendicular central height of three hundred and fifty-feet. The miniiute description of archles, of water 372 SIYRIAN AND PERSIAN GARDENS. tiglht terrace basins, and of latticed summer arbors indicates the perfeetion of' this art as early as B. C. 600. SECT. 3. SYv'IA- ANI) PEISIAN GARDENS: Il, U'STRATED SPECIALLY AT JEIRUSALIE'M AND PE,RSEPOLIS; ALLOWING TlIE VARIETY OF F,EATURES BELI,ONGING TO A ROCKY IIILI, COUNTRY. The llill country of Judea took thle Persian miodel in its gardens. Th(y were of two classes, the small suburban and the broad park in the couiitry. Solomon's gardens about Jerusalei bore sweet herbs, si)ices an(l nuts; tlhey were fenced with hedges; amiong their flowers were the rose or narcissus, and the lily; amiong fillit trees the al)ple, the fig. the ponmeiranate, the da.te-pali,i, the I)istachio nut, the gra(pevine and the olive; and they were watered by fountains, pI)ouritng refi'eshing streams. Pliny remacilks: " Syria is most laboi,'iously cultured for gardens; and tlhenee the proverb among the Greeks,'The luany garden vegetables of the Siyrians.' " Two garddens hallowed in Clihst's life still retain their interest; Gethsenianeic an enclosure of about an acrie, shaded )by aged olive trees, and the garden in which Jesus was crucified and buriied, now covered by tlhe Church of the Holy Sepulchre, three hundred feet long and two hundred feet wide. The larger or park garden of Syria is illustrated by Solomon and Xenol)hon. Its designation "paradise," both in the Hebrew and Greek, is from the most ancient Japhetic tongue; it had groves and orchards, fountains and fish-pools, "garden houses" or suilinier palaces. One, seven nliles south of Jerusalem, noted for its massive pools still existing, was among the highlands still called "Mountain of Paradise;" and a second was in the valleys of Lebanon. To these, afterward alluded to by Strabo, Solomon broulght exotic trees and foreign birds and animnals firomrn India. The type of these larger gardens Xenophon describes in Persia where the name Paradise originated. In one, mentioned in his Cyropmedia, young Cyrus learned to hunt the stag and wild boar. In another, described in his Anabasis, " Cyrus had a palace and an extensive park fiull of wild beasts," in which he hunited to give himself and his horses exercise. Through the wildest of this park the river Meander runs. In a third, alluded to in his HIcellenics, in addition to the :2 373 ART CRITICISMf. hunting park there was "a river fill of all sorts of fish, and plenty of birds for those foind of fowling." SECT. 4. ANCIENT GRECIAN AND ROMAN GARDENS; CHARACTERIZED BY GEOMETRIC EXACTNESS OF OUTLINE AND ELEGANCE OF FORMS IN ADORNMENT. Gardening as an art has to do with the real rather than the ideal; and no originating genius in Greece was devoted to it. The allusions of the Greek authors show that their ideas and nmethods were Asiatic, derived foiii o Persia. Among practical Roiiians, however, gardening attainled the characteristics of geometric exact ness in outlinIe and riclhness of ornanientation preserved in Southern Europe to this dav. The gaildens of the Hlespcrides, nierely alluded to by Hesiod and later Greek writers, called by Striabo " the islands of the blessed," in their very name fi'on e.spea, evening, or "the cool of the day," as well as in the legends of the forbidden firuit, seen the re-echoing of the traditional voice, always alppreciative in Grecian philosophy and art. The gardens of Alcinous, in the Island of Corfu, on the other hand, pictured by Homer, seeili to be a real rather than an ideal creation; though their author was an Asiatic Greek.']'These were located in fiont of the palace of the prince; they contaiiined four acres, surrounded by a hedge; and the plants were arranged in p)arterres, among whose beds jetted two fountains. Their chief charms were tall firuit trees, as the apple, pear, olive, fig, poinegranate and giape, which bloomed with perpetual foliage, buds, flowers and firuit. The only gariden noted in the era of Greek philosophy was that whose history is given by Pausanias. It was a lot of ground about thiree-fourtlis of a mile firom Athens, given by Acadenius to the citizens for a g-ymnasiumI; which was unenclosed until Hipparchuls, about B. C. 5'20), surrounded it with a wall. Ciiiion, the popular leader before Pericles, as Plutarch states, "first adorned the city with those elegant and noble places for exercise and disputation which a little after caite to be so much adiiiiircd. Hle planted the forum with plane trees; and, whereas the Academy was before a dry and unsightly plat, he brought water to it and sheltered it with groves, so that it abounded with neat avenues and shlady walks." While, however, Plato planted his school in this garden, though 374 iROMAN SUBURBAN VII,L.\S. in both his Republic and Laws he urges that for iiusic,, sculpture and architecture, governmient should make( special provision, he has no suggestion as to gardens for public or private resort. Xenophon expressly says of the park constructed by himself in Elis, which had two streams flowing through it, lakes of fresh fishll and shell-fish on the sea-shore, hunting-grounds for the boar, the antelope and the deer, pastures anrd stalls for horses, oxen, goits and swine, and above all, a beautiful little telnple in it with a statue of cypress wood, that it was after the model of one at Ephesus. The casual mention that Dinocrates, Alexander's archlitect, pro1)o ed to carve Mlount Athos into a bust of the imoniarch, lmalking ole halind to rest on a lower peak and in its hollow a lake, while the otlher stretched to all opposite peak and held a city upon its pallll, was a suggestion of the degenerate age, when mere massiveness began to take the place of elaborate finish. ALiiongi the RomIIans gardeliing becanie a highl art; Cicero, the phlilosol)ler, and VAitruvius, the architect, devoting their tiine and iioiney specially to it. The emiinent popularity of the Geolgics and Butcolics of Virgil, and of Pliny's Natural IIistory, are a striking coimment on this taste. The Roimans had the "villa rustica" or farmi, and the "villa urba.na," or suburban villa. The farm villa had three large shaded courts, one for the mansion, a second for liaborers' quarters, and a third for stables. Two such villas, belonging to himself, Pliny the younger describes at length. IHis Laurentine or wi,ter villa, Pliny states, seventeen miles from Roume on the sea-coast, was reached by a sandy road, heavy for a carriage, "but easy and pleasant to those riding on horseback." The house was close built, had a semi-circular open porilh; back of which was an enclosed portico, and back of this was the at'iimi, or central hall, radiating fiomn which were the principal rooiis, one of which looked out on the sea, another on a terrace, and another on the play-ground. The play-ground was a grass swtard surrounded by a box-hedge without shade trees to adnit the winter sun; within which was a garden surrounded by grape vines, fig and miulberry trees. Ilinlv's suiimmier villa, north of the Tiber, apl)rotache(d fioili Rolie by a gradual rise, had a stiff soil with abundant water, and was cooled by breezes fioiii the Apennines. The imansion fronted 375 APR.T A T CTRITICSM. south, and had a wide poritico; before it was tlhe xi/stits, or court yard, the.rester/o, or play-ground, thle (OI)l)itl(ttio, or I)romienade, and the hI/i))o(l/oi;ie. or circus fori ridilg; behind whicvl was the kit( hen-ar iden. The d(iiiiii-rooii oveilooked the hil)l)o(dronle; before which was a spiin,-houe slha(led by four plalne-tlces, having a central folin tain with a iarble basin; over whichi was a sleeping berth with a frescoed ceilin,g. Adjoiniiing was a bath-room havig threce basins, one of hot, another of cold, and a third of tel)id( water, lheated by the sun. In the rear of the mnansionr, in a warm cexposuire', was the kitchen, with the vegetable garden a(ljoiniing; and on the north side was an open portico, under whose floor was a cool grotto. The court-yard in fi'ont was enclosed by a box-he(dge cut into the shapes of various animalls, and around it was a proieiad(le with a border of clipped everlgreen. Beyoiid this were the gestatio and hippodrome, enclosed by a bank wall. The hip)podroiiie had three rectilinear sides bordered by plane trees covered with ivy; between which were clumps of box, and back of these bay trees; "the plane trees blendin< their shad(le with the ba,ys;" while the fourth side was semi-circular, bordered by tall, dark cypres, to "'vtry the prospect and cast a deeper glooiu. " TI'he inner wilks around the race course were bordered by rose bushes, to "correct in delightful contrast the coolness of the shade by the warmth of the sun." Beyond the hippodrome was at succession of fields and imeadows, which owed "as many beauties to nature aR that within thle wall to art."' A broad avenue bordered by box, cut iuto the letters foiriiiing the nanie of the proprietor, led by lateral tathlis to several fields. The first was d(lotted with firuit trees intei cets( d w'tli ob(elikls and statuary; the next, " suddenly in the ni-idst of elegant r(egularity, surprised by the contrast of the negligent beauty of rural nature presented by a knot of dwarf I)lane trees." A pathway here, bordered by trees cut;ii fantastic shapes and festooned with the soft twining acanthus, led to an alcove of white mnarble, supp)orted by four slender coluiiins, shaded with vines, furnished with a seat, beneath which a fountain uish(ed uj), with a basin in firont having a broad brini and filled fiom the fountain; where I)liny says he often took a noonday repast, aiaking, tlhe lasin-riil his til)le, liaving his dishes in the bhalpe of ships and water-fowl floating, on the water, which cooled their contents. Fronting this alcove was a 37(; GARDI)ENS OF TIE IT)T)TDD, AGFS. 3. summer retreat of exquisitely ceawc nci rvelc, fi'iinished withl seat,, and jettingr fountainiis with rills run ting arouiid; avinig doors opcening oi one side into a green are)o cnnt enclosure, and on ariothel side into a sinall slcl)ling-roola d,.'k with ov-erhlallgilg vines. Virgil gives extended lists of fruit and shade trecs; with their adaptation to soil, climate and sunny exposures. He describes v.aiious hedgcs and gariden accessorics as statuary, fountains, grottoes anld water-fowl. He urges the value of skill in groul)ing, "thiat the prosl)ect mnay give delight to the mind;" and enumerates as lhorticultural associations, by which esthletic and moral ilpressioiis are awakene(l, these: "the ash is fairest in the for'est, the pine in gardens, the poplar' by rivers, and the fir on lofty niount(aiis: " the poplar is niost giateful to ltercules, the vilne to ':lecc.hus, to loNely V enus the niiyitle, to Apollo his own laur]l, whlile Phli-llis loves even the hazels." Hc advises especially that wlhatever is undertaken in gardening be perfected; comniiendiing thec maxim, " Admire a large farmi; cultivate a simall one. Yitruvius, the architect, treats of grounds as subordinate to buildings; urging that health demands due light and heat for both inin and beast, that a north firont be avoided, and a south fiont fori the kitchen and stable be always sought; tlhat to granalies and stoir(houses the air have free admission lighlt and air beillng always clii(f requisites in everything about a villa. The remains of ancient villas, now visited near lqonie and Naples still illustrate their structure; while the actual recoustruction of many of them in later times links Roman to nmediaeval gardening. SECT..5. GARDENS OF TIlE MTIDDLE AGES; CHRISTIAN AND MO IIAIMIEDAN; ROMAN IN ARRANGEMENT, AND ASIATIC IN ADORN MIENT. The spirit of Christianity, adopting Roman methods with new ansociations in art, is thus presented by Eusebius in his Life of C()Isitantine, written aboutt A. D. 350, "Then mighlt be seen fountaiis in the mildst of the Forumi graced with figures representing thl( (,()od Slhepherd and Dianiel with the lions, cast in l)raiss, and r(ls)ie)ldent with plates of gold." In the eighth centuty Charleiii;igtie established gardefls foir ilnproveIlenit in horticulture, prescribing b-y a royal edict the plants that shlould be reared in them. ,,2 * 377 ART CRITICISM. Ill the Northl, the life of feudal lords in strong,-walled castles, and of le.'rned monks in close-built convents, iiid(le the coimmonl castle and convent gardens perfect counterparts of the old 1loniiai court-yards in city residences. In later times cardinals whlo had gathered large wealth lavished their treasures in the l,lantiiig and adorning of gardens around IRoiiie, arranged after the ancient model; the Cardinal Alphonso d'Este in the sixteenth century beitig a leader in this improvement. The feudal castle had an exterior moat; whose banks were adorned with grass-sward, floweringr plants, willows and other shade trees. The interior yard was laid off in small parterres and flowerbeds. The remaiis of old Roiiai- and more modern English castles yet show the former structure of their gardens. Convent gardens, alike illustrated among the Copts of Egypt, the Greeks of Asia Minor, and in the monasteries of Italy, France, England and America, are permanent embodiments of the unvarying medieval type. Thus in the perfect desert, at Mt. Sinai, the garden ofr the Greek Convent is built in terraces on the western slope of the Sacred e Mount, well watered from the mountain springs, and thickly strewn with fruit-trees, as the apple, pear, apricot, quince, fig, mulberry, pomegranrate, the olive anrid also the grape; at its foot vegetable beds, flower borders and spicy shrubs mingle their odors and flavors; while the tall blank outer wall is relieved by towering cypresses and creeping ivy. SECT. 6. MODERN CIIINESE GARDENS; CHARACTERIZED BY FOND NESS FOR THE DI\MINUTIVE IN DIMENSIONS AND THE GROTESQUE IN FORMS. Lord Kames says that gardens are "in China brought to greater perfection than in any known country." In skill devoteil to productiveness this is true; while in artistic merit Chinese gardens rank with their architecture, sculpture and paintin,g. Necessarily divided among the swarming population into the minutest beds, which to save space are without fences, puslhed as each little field is to the most luxuriant productiveness, the Chinanian's patches of rice and wheat, of beans and beets, arc a pervading( element of deliglhtful green, filling the whole region iar(oulsd cities. Where wealth permits ornamentation, the Chinese excel in mere imitation, aiming at novelty and grotesqueness. The beds 378 TURKISII GARDENS; VOLUPTUOUS IN IDEA. 379 and banks of artificial lakles and rills are maide to have gravelly or sandy bottomis, -and to assunme a serpenltine and quiet flow, or to rush fiom cavern- mouthls and to dashl over precip)ices. Eveiy rock and stuiiip) is left as a contrast to surrounding verdure; and islands in artificial lakes are completely rocky and barren, or clothed with an exuberance of flowering shrubs. Trces are skillfully coiilbined accordiing to shape and depth of green; and somietimies the effcet of perspective vista views is attemipted. The chief effort is at sud.den transition, accompanied by a heaping of grotesque and pigily forms in architecture and sculpture, such as miniature mills and boats, wooden quadrupeds, clay reptiles and canvas birds. SECT. 7. MODERN TURKISHl GARDENS; DISTINGUISItED BY LUXURI ANCE IN NATURAL ADORNMIENT AND VOLUPTUOUSNESS IN ARTI FICIAL, ACCESSORIES. In the Oriental or Turkish garden the natural features of beauty in plants, trees and waters, and in artificial accompaniments, are directly designed to minister to corporeal pleasures. rThis voluptuous character is set forth in the Koran; the sacred authiority in art as well as in morals. The prophet ainnounces: This is the description of Paradise; it is watered by rivers, its fruit is perpetual, and its shade ever green." In fuller visions the streams are pictured as flowing with milk, wine and clarified honey; the trees of dark green "loaded with firuit from top to bottom;" fountains jet with cooling showers; while "pavilions, with couches adorned with gold and precious stones," curtained with "fine silk interwoven with gold," are attended by "' damsels having complexions like rubies and pearls, and large black eyes like pearls hidden in their shells, reposing on cushions of green and flowery carpets. " Alike on the low river banks of the Nile as at Shoobra, and on the highlands of the Bosphorus as in the "valleys of sweet waters" above Constantinople, the dream of the Arabian prophet as well as of the Persian poet is realized. An extended green sward furnishes a natural seat for men and women reclining, in Oriental ease; kiosks stand on terraced hillocks, o)r by the side of rills firom the heights; the walks are few -and irregular; the banks of mountain streamis are siiuply cleared of undergrowth and tbe green sward trimmed; while at some points APR,T CRTTICTSM. the stream is made to flow over marble beds to fill basins, and to jet fromn fountains. CHAPTER IV. MIODERN EUROPEAN LANDSCAPE-GARDENING. GARDENING has taken the type of other arts, especially of painting, in modern imll)provenients; partikiiig in Itily of the briglht aspect of nature, in France of the oprciatic artificial sty-le, in IHolland of lhomely cheerfulless; whlile ill Einglnd it culminiated in the picturesque style. SECT. 1. ITALIAN LANDSCAPE-GARIDENING; VILLA AND PALACE GARDENS, AS INFT,LUENCED BY CLIMATE, SURIFACE OF COUNTR,Y, AND BY FONDNESS FOR ANCIENT FORMS AND ARCIIITECTURAL ACCESSORIES. The genius of Italyv, balanced between reverence for tlhe past and love of nature, has developed two tendencies in garidenitng. rThe controlling feature is artificial rather than natural adornment. The gardens of Italy are the ornanments of villas and convents. The iuild sumnier breezes fi'omn the sea fitvor the cultlure of juicy fruits; the shade trees have light green foliage to which the clear air imparts an amber tinge. The winter winds fiom the AIpennines miake the architectural and sculptural features, unrelieved to any great extent by evergreens, a needed attraction. The area is usually surrounded by a high close wall of stone, capped with an ornamental paratpet; similar walls divide and even subdivide the extended enclosure; between whlich are arranged colonnades and summier-houses and statuary under canopied roofs. The numerous villas, such as the Albani an(l Borghese, which extend firom Rome to the Apennine range, originatedcl in the taste of cardinals resident at Rome after the era of revived art; who, ,aaiiini their position on account of suiperior intellectual and tiethetic cullture. and having no filnlies to share their laiige incomie, souIght in art both gratificati)n alcd hono,i. A lea(ler in this revived art was the Cardinal Hippolito d'Este; who conceived! the idea of raeoiistructing at Tivoli Hladriian', villa. 380 ITAI,IAN AND FRENCII GARDENS. The villa Albani was designed originally to provide tasteful, open colonnades for treasures of exhutiiied statualy; a collection in which AWinekel,-mann became so able a critic. The villa BOrIhese had as its ailn the reconstructioii of ancient arclhitecture; the Egyptian with its varied ty)es; the Grecian with its three orde'rs; and the tRoi[an with its circular ground-plot and exuberant ornamient. Tlhe )Iatdamia is admirable for its terraces overlookilg Roiiie; alnd tlic Dora for its extensive park. The D'Este and Brschi', reecon-Istrtictions on the old PoRloan type, with their clip)p)ed hedges and( squared fields, seein hardily in keepingi with the wild luxuriauce of the ilex and cypress; and the imachinery of artificial waterworks, at Frascati emnployed as a power to work an inmense organ, seellms a child's device alongside of thle grand cascades pouring firoom the cliffs overhangingt the Anio. The palice gardens of Caserta, thirteen mniles north of Naples, platnted in the middle of the eighteenth century by the first of the Sp)anish Boutrbons, present an interesting contrast to the villa gardens about Rome; and prepare the way for the transition to French landscape-gardening. From the southern sumnner-house, called the Casino, the eye ranges over three miles of hill and vale, of grove and water-fall, to thle palace on the north; and then stretches at least a mile southward to the limit inii that direction. On one side is an English garden, fitted up by the Iromantic Queen Caroline; and on the other a dense forest which formed an ancielt hunitinig-ground, still full of game. In front of the palace, lmeandering for miles in extent, skirted by lawns, flower-borders, groves and arbors, flows a stream brought fiomi sprilngs at the north through an aqueduct twenty-seven miles long, p)iercing two mnountains in its course, and slpanning valleys on arches of dizzy heiglht, till within the grounds it is tortured into every conceivable iorii of fountain and cascade, and is miade to fill broad basins supplied with fish of rare variety and quality. ~ ECT. 2. FRENCIH LANDSCAPEGARDENING; METROPOLITAN, SUB URBAN AND CHATEA U GARDENS; MODIFIED FRO-, TIIE ITALIAN BY A NATURALLY WOODED COUNTRY, AND BY NATIVE TASTE FOR LIVELY FORMIS AND COLORS. French gardens prior to tlhe age of Louis XIV. belong, to the the -Middle Ages. The conception of the gardens of Versailles 381 ART CRITICISM. formed an era in the history of the art, not only in France but in Europe. The public gardens of France are of three classes: the nietropo litan, suburban and chateau gardens or parks. To the fornier class belong those.of the Luxeibourig and of the Tuileries; to the second the Bois de Boulogne and the old palace garden of St. Cloud; and to the third the old hunting park of Conipiegiie, anid the grand works of Versailles. The surface of the country in France, more gently undulating than that of Italy, allows a wider extent of view an(d greater variety of scenery. This feature invites the curved line in ground-l)lot and elevation, serpentine foot-paths and winding avenues, rugged rockeries covered with wild vines, and knolls tangled with undergrowth; a characteristic specially alluded to by Rapin, the early English rhbymester on garden)ing. A later feature of French gardening is the attempt to represent fable and allegory; too severely criticised by the opposite taste of Lord Kamies. The attempt to represent in clipped clumps of box animals conversing together after the mianner of 2Esop is absurd, since neither in form, color or expression can there be even the shadow of an approximation to reality; and the sense of the ludicrous awakened by such an atteml)t is too strongly mixed with the conviction of failure not to be changed to (ontenmpt for the artist. AThenii, moreover, as Lord Kames urges, lions and wolves, deer and lambs are breathing water fiom their nostrils, the device is disagreeable; as the modern conceit of urinating Cupids is objectionable in its moral as well as its Aesthetic expression. The idea, however, of representing jets of water spouting fiom the nostril of a whale, or the proboscis of an elephant, or even fronm the trumpet of a bugler, or the bill of a swan, is not unnatural, though the latter cases are a mere surprise. In the garden of the Luxeiiibourg, level in surface, the structure is miechanical; since there is no natural feature to set off the square flower-beds and oval and serpenitine box-borders. In the grounds of the Tuileries this feature is relieved by avenues of shade trees like the horse-chestnut, by groves of orange, by beds and borders of flowers and shrubs interspersed with statuary and foulntains. Thie ChampsElIys.es. orlvEssiai Fe:lds. anairrow diiveot'f about a mile and a quarter long, with its central avenues of shade trees, 382 ST. CLOUD, COMPIEGNE AND ~ER$SAIIl,ES. 383 its side parterres of flowers and shrubs, its circus and summer houses, terminated by the "Arc de Triiomphlle," unite the features of' a park and garden. The Bois de Boulogne, an old royal forest of about two thousand acres lying along the Seine, one of whose lakes is three-quarters of a nile in leng,th, though miainly level, has meadows, which by ditchling, mounding and rock transp)ortatioln, and by its winding avenues shaded by the oak, the beech and the pine, possess the picturesqueness of an English garden; while the allegorical idea and operatic execution of the main rock-worik, including the grotto, cascade and fountains, are characteristic of French taste. St. Cloud, for generations the type of the old chateau garden, in its location overlooking the Seine, in its aged trees, winiding avenues and deep dells, contrasted with sunny knolls, is the embodiment of Kamies' idea of true art in gardens, "nature itself adorned." The forest of Compiegne, about sixty miles north-east of Paris, a hunting park before the days of William the Conqueror, fitted up with a summer residence by Louis IX., and a costly palace ly Louis XIV., the favorite resting place of the war-worn Napoleon I. and of Napoleon III., contains over thirty-six thousand acres; its roads measure more than six hundred nmiles; and it is truly a forest, rather than a park. In the palace and park gardens of Versailles, Louis XIV. attempted an extravagance of expenditure and an idea of leisurely seclusion from care for his subjects, which Asiatic despotism even cannot maintain. The halls of the palace, now ranges of picture galleries, are a mile in entire length. The grounds comprise the garden proper, the small park and the large park. In fi'ont of the palace gushes a small river, whose waters flow past nmarble basins in a central channel throughout the entire grounds; along whose course are varied classic devices wrought in bronze, as the peasants of Libya turned into fiogs for denying water to thirsty Latona, and compelled for ever to spout torrents of water over her. The garden is occupied by an orangery, a conservatory and beds and parterres of flowers. The small park is twelve an the large park sixty miiles in circuit. ARIT CRITICISM. SECT. 3. DUTCH LANDSCAPE-GARDENING; CONTROLLED BY LOW LAND SCENERY; CIIARACTERIZED BY STRAI(;IIT LINEFS IN ROADS AND CANALS, IN FIELD-BOUNDS, BANK-TERRACES AND SIIADED AVENUES. I The lowland scenery of the Netherlands, iwhich gave to Dutch pailitiing its low horizon, led to straighit roads anrd canals giving, forimi to field-bounds and gariden-borders. As trees on lowlands are geneially transplants, through their coimerce with the Indies gardens anioug, the Dutch becanie noted for exotics; especially for roots rich in nutriiiiieilt and bearing flowers of rare beauty. The public grounds of the Lowland cities are chicfly wide avenues with lows of trees seivinl.r as drives and proimenades. At Aiiisterdaiii, Eottecrdam. and ainlbuirg the mio.tts outside of the old walls, and the canals, are bordered with girecen sward and lines of trees; while at Utrecht, Frankfort, Leipsic and Vieniiii the foundations of the old walls form, like the Boulevards of IPatriis, broad caririage roads skirited by avenues of trees; a style introduced by William III. into England, and by the Geriman princes into lussia. In nliodern German and Russian cities the picturesque style of Enugland has prevailed. 3Iuiich has a park four miles long, undula-ting and wooded, with winding drives and foot-paths; and at Berlin, while the old gardens are still laid out in rctai-les, the new parks conforml to the natural undulations of the soil. The grand park of Tsairkoe Selo, near St. Petersburg, has a surface beautifully diversified it contains a Chinese villtage with a pagoda, a''Turkish town with kiosks and a mosque, a Grecian city with temiplcs and statues of classic grace, and an Egyptian tel)ilc with pyramiid,s and obelisks; while in the mountain-sides are caves, in tlhe forest hermiitag,es, and on the plains m1onumients of civic and military glory. SECT. 4. ENGLISH LANDSCAPE-GARDENING; CIIARACTERIZED SPE CIALLY BY LAWNS, PARKS AND ANIMAL COLILECTIONS; IN STYLE TIlE EARLY ROMIAN, MODIFIED BY TIIE ANCIENT DUTCII, AND THEN SUPERSEDED BY THIIREE SUCCESSIVE NATIVE SCIIOOLS, TI[E BALD OF KENT, THE PICTURESQUE OF PRICE AND TIHE GARDEN ESQUE OF REPTON. The soil, climate and tastes of the people of Great Britain have made landscap)e-gardeiiing the art of E,gland; as sculpture was of 384 ENGLISH GARDENING; ITS VARIED STYLES. 385 Greece, architecture of Rome, and painting o)f Italy. The surface of Great Britain is undulating, and the damp fironm the Gulf Stream covers it with a coat of the darkest green. The fondness of the British people for an out-door, stirring life has naturally led tlhelI to add beauty and -race to their out-door haunts. Thie early Englishl garden, derived firom the R,oiiians, was a little square court-yard, with beds of cramped proportions. An innovation was made upon this style by Charles II., in emp)loyinlg Le Notre, who laid out the grounds of Versailles for Louis XIV., to plaint the parks of St. James and of Greenwich. The instructive utterance of the old style, resisting nature, al)ppeared in the innocent ili(-uiry of Lord Stiffoid, " haat would hlave beet the additional exl)ense to make the banks of this piece of water straight?" The neiw style met a reaction under AAillianii III., )Dutch in education both as to religion and art; as is illustrated in the Duke of Marlbo-rough's estate called "Blenheimi," whose rows of shade-trees were arianged in lines corresponding to the order of the regiments in Ma'rlboirough's line of battle. Under the house of Brunswick, gatdelving became pre-elminently an E,nglish art; and under George III., tlhrough the prevalence of HIogartli's ideas, so great was the opposite tendency that Sir WAilliami Chambers remarked: " If this Iniahia be not checked, there will not be remaining three trees standing in a line throughout the kingdom.'" The principle that no line is beautiful except the curve, rejected projecting piazzas, terraces and enclosed court-yards, since these would break up the rounded outline of nature. The natural green sward, closely cut, skirted the foundations of the mansion; the carriage-way wandered by an easy gradation up to the manlsion; and trees were left standing or cut without any regular order. This extreme was soon entitled the bald style; since it left the exterior of the mansion and the firont lawn entirely bare. In the conflict of tastes numerous critical writers, as well as the poets Cowper, Shenstone and Mason, advocating the thleory of Kent, threw around the art as a literal col)yinig of nature the charm of poetic picturing which Virgil haa attempted for the Romans. As among landscape-painters, so among gardeners, there was a reaction against the extreme natural of Kent. The aim of the second style was a contrast between the finish of the mansion and its inmmediate surrounding and the untrimmed thickets upon its 33 Pl. ART CRITICISM. sides and in the background. It urged that on the front court-yard, and select spots in the wild grounds, the highest culture should be lavished; while the niaiii portion of the landscape should be left in a state of nature more untouched than that of Kent. This style, called the " picturesque," gained the favor of critics and landscape painters; Lord Kames stating that in "the picturesque of Price gardening was brought to greater perfection than in any other known country of the world." It arrested the crusade against hoary trees b)ecause they lead been planted in straight r-ows; it led philosophic mlinds, as Lord Kanies in his " Gentleman larmier"' suggests, to "test proposed imiprovemients in agriculture by rational principles." A third method was suggested in the principle that sudden and violent contrasts between finished and unfinished grounds are unnatural; while a gradually diminished culture, complete in prouiinent and not slovenly in obscure parts, is the true law of nature, and therefore of art. This final style, that of Repton, recognized the fact that as a single human figure by IPhidias or Apelles is more attractive than a confused group, so a single noble oak standing alone on the plain is an object more admired than a "clump that hides the monarch." His system would harmonize congrluity in grouping and elegance in individualt] forms; his two principles being that "relative fitness" should be regarded, since gardening is a useful art, and, again, "comparative proportion," since it is a fine art. The leading idea that ornamental trees are transplants forbids the undergrowth of a clumnp; and equally demands that trees be at proportionate distances, and be contrasted and complementary in size, form and color. Suggesting the same law for shrubs and flowering plants, it required that exotics be brought in summer from conservatories and be planted in the open sunlight. This style, designated "gardenesque," because it gave the character of a garden alike to a small court-yard and to the broadest fields, has been greatly promoted by the progress of landscape-painting and by the yet greater advance made in agricultural science. 386 AMERICAN LANDSCAPE-GARDENING. SECT. 5. AMIERICAN LANDSCAPE-GARDENING; AFFORDING A FIELD FOR UNLIMIITED VARIETY, AND REQUIRING A NATIVE THOUGIH CHASTENED TASTE. The New World has, in gardening, an advantage over the Old; since her artists have the combined methods of all Europe, while the field for their art is unmarred by former errors in workmanship. In the American colonies on the seaboard English taste early prevailed. In Carolina the earlier English method has maintained its sway, the Battery of Charleston and the public grounds of Columbia illustrating this; while around Boston the later English methods are seen in Lvyman's lawn, in Perkins' oak-groves, and in Cushing's flower and fi'ruit-beds. From Louisiana the French style of Louis XIV. has extended along the Gulf of Florida, and up the 1ississipp)i to MIissouri; the inimense box-hedges and clumps cut into vases and sofas and the initials of proprietors, being seen in the towns of Alabama and Georgia, and north to St. Louis. The geological structure of the United States territory invites comrprehensive miethods of gardening. Thle nmountain ralige cutting every Atlantic State gives to each the features of three zones, the steep peaks with the dark firs of the fiigid, the undulating hills with the maple and apple of the higher temperate, and the level savannas with the willow-oak and fig of the lower temperate regions: while its undisturbed virgin growth, like marble fiesh fiom the quarry, woos a worthy master. The able treatises of Kenrick in the Eastern, of Downing in the Middle, and of Kern in the Western States indicate the amount of intelligent native thought already devoted to this art. 387 BOOK VII. THE DECORATIVE ARTS; ARTIFICIAL ACCESSORIES AND ORNAMENTS OF OBJECTS IN NATURE AND OF WORKS IN ART. THE decorative arts, though confined to "decoration," as distinct from the forming of a principal object, are truly' arts;" since they require studied design and elaborate execution. The objects legitimate for decoration are human being, and human implements. It is a perversion of art when lower animals, trees and plants are tricked with fantastic decorations. In objects employed by man the decorative are subsidiary to the higher arts, adding a fiame to a painting, a pedestal to a statue, and capitals to columns; while in useful mnechanismi they add grace to strength. The field of the decorative arts is as limitless as human wants. The pages of critical and descriptive authors like Pliny and Herodotus, of tourists ancient and mnodern, are filled with objects conming within this range. A concise classification of the principal wants of' man which have called forth skill in this department, a reference to the principles of design employed in decoration, and a brief history of varied methods employed in different lands and ages, may aid in the grouping of such a mass of detail. CHAPTER I. THE FIELD OF DECORATIVE ART; COEXTENSIVE WITII HUMAN WANTS; AND VARIED ACCORDING TO MATERIAL EMPLOYED AND TASTE EXERCISED. HU,NAN wants have always called out inventive skill; and the measure of success attained in decoration has been in part depend 388 I)RFUSS AND) ORNAMENTS. ent on the material employed, as of wood or stone, and of the implemnents at comimand, whether flint, bronze or steel. Designs in decoration have been drawn from three leading sources: aninal and vegetable formns; geomnetiic figures, apprehensions of reason, and ideas of the iiiinagination, or pure spiritual devices. The first class are the earliest and simplest, as in the three orders of Eggyptian capitals; while they are the foundation of the highest creations in ancient and modern art. Very early geometric figures became foirmative models; the Egyptians employing the rectangle and the trapezoid, the circle and the globe; the Greeks analyzing the ellipse, the parabola and the volute; while in later iiosaic and leialdic devices, foirms became as infinite as the conmbinations possible to be niade with straight and curved lines. In the third field of design proper, the ideal, all nations have conspired to call the artist's work a creation. SECT. 1. DRESS AND ORNAMENTS; THEIR CLASSES, MATERIAL AND [ODI)ES OF ELABORATION. Form and color in dress, depending partly on material, partly on national customs, have foiiio time immemorial been the recognized sphere of womian's taste and skill. The first raiment was in form a short half skirt or pinafore, its color simple green, its material broad leaves; followed soon by coats" or close-fitting tunics, of the " skins of animnals."' The uioiulllents of Egypt, as well as present customs among all nations, show that the tunic, chemise, shirt or frock. all kindred in form, is the universal primitive dress for miale and fiemale. To this as a temlporary covering the robe, mantle, shawl or cloak was added. The closer-fitting vest, boddice and jacket, and the trowsers or pantaloons, originated later in a northern clime. The head-dress, vaiying so greatly firom fancy, is hardly susceptible of analysis or of historic tracing. The shoe, necessarily conformed more than any part of the dress to the lorni of the foot, has varied from the meie sand(lil to high-tol-)ped boots. h'le simplest material employed in dress consisted of the vegetable and animal tissues still used by rude tribes. At an early day, however, the idea of spihiliing short aniiiial and vegetable fibre, as wool, hair, hemip, cotton and afterward silk, camne to displace the sinipler fabrics. The advince of the art of spinning from the sime 33 * 389 ART CRITICISM. pie spindle, and of weaving fiom the two rough rods tied to posts now used in Afiica, is a study worthy the ablest mind. As to form, the true ideal of dress is that which sets off the per son to the best advantage; and this, in the main, prevails in youth when its claims alone control. Comfort and health demiand a flowing dress, especially for matrons. Homer pictures veils and skirts which "swept the ground;" and Herodotus, three centuries later, describes the progress of dress as that of the orders in colunm nar architecture, first the plain Dorian, then the matronly Ionian, andi finally the maiden Corinthian. The color of dress, originally that of its material, is very early made artificial; as is seen in the buffalo robes of the American Indian, and in the ancient Egyptian dyes, "red, blue, scarlet, crimson, and purple." The early tinctures gave the samue hue to evely )art of woven fabrics. Dyeing, as Aristotle and Pliny indicate, blecamie truly an art when by tinging, first with one, then with anotllher color, as "purple on a dark rose," new tints of rare beauty were attained. It was a new art when by the needle and loom threads of different dyes were interwoven, in which art Iloiiier reveals surpassing perfectioti as attained, before Troy fell, by Trojan and Grecian in.itroilis. J)liny recorded the stages of advance; first, tile invention of spinning and weaving wool; then the Plhrygiatn fine needle-work, the Perigaieain interweaving of gold thread, and the Bal)byloniiian dyeing. with paiti-colors; and finally the Alexandrian interweaving of figures by colored thread distributed in the warp and web. In addition to dress as a necessity, ornaments are soiught; especially by females. In this department, pre-eminently in engraving on precious stones, decorative art approaches the fine arts. The forehead is decked with wreaths of flowers in childhood with a fiinge of shells and feathers among savages; with the turban in Asia; and with the fillet and jewel droplets of the Greek lai(lcns. Among rude tribes the nose, and in refined ages the ear, invite pendant ornanlents; and in every land the necklace, an ancient roy al ba-dge and fuinereal decoration, is retaincd Ias a fiiitale and childholod ornament. T''he iecist-)late or girdle, a f~lvorite token of exlehig(e between Grecian and Tr-()jlIl lieiocs, still retzaiiis its chaiacter in the rosette as an official badge. For femuales, bracelets on the arms and rings on the fingers are still worthy orna 39() IMPLEMENTS AND UTENSIIS. mients. Even anklets, with which eastern damsels of old "made a tinkling as they went," retain their attraction. As material, calcareous substances, shell, bone, horn, ivory and pearl have froIll the days of Solomon been preferred for ordinary ornaments. The metals, as silver and gold, and especially precious stones, are the most costly; valued even by princes. SECT. 2. IMPLEMIENTS OF BUSINESS, AND HOUSE UTENSILS, FURNI TURE AND WALL DECORATIONS; TIIEIR USES, MATEITIAL AND VARYING FORIS AND STYLES. In hours of toil, implements for man's out-door and utenisils for woman's in-door emiploy have been demanded, from the day when Cainii tilled the soil and Abel slaughtered his lalub. An Arab's tent, an Indian's wigwam, an army bivouac, reveal how simple these niay be. The material of implements is controlled partly by necessity; the Egyptian finding a wooden plough adapted to a soft soil, but the Syrian being compelled to use an iron coulter. Civiliza-tion has converted the flint hatchet first into bronze then into steel. The in plements of the farmer, carpenter, snmith and potter have changed most in mere finish; while in utensils of glass, clay and porcelain art was early perfected. The forms of implements have improved, while their material has remained unchanged. The modern farmer is eloquent over the be(uty of hlis patented plough. As the house is the resting-place from toil it needs appropriate funiture. The hall requires receptacles for out-door raiment; the saloon, convenient seats; the parlor, chairs and lounges for special guests; the dining-room, its seats and tables; the sleeping chamber, its beds, wardrobe and varied conveniences. The furniture of the humblest cottage is a study calling for the exercise of taste. Asiatic taste luxuriates in this field. The sculpture of the oldest Egyptian tonmb is a wonder in every variety of house furniture. Ilomer, too, tells of Agaileminon's "gilded throne," of Juno's "golde.n coucel," of llelel's " loom" an(l of liccuba's "odoriferous wardrobe." In this ancient art. color as well as forii influenced ornamlentation; the Asiatics setting off the gracefiul curves of otto naIans Iy their rich blue and yellow housin(gs while the Greeks, as p)ictured by Hoimer and Virgil, allowed the land of luxuiyT to rule 391 A RT CRITICISM. in this her appropriate sphere. The same Asiatic richness is in modern times seen in the gorgeous divans of a Tnirkish saloon; while the taste of Europe has grown in exquisiteness of workmnanship and chasteness of design. Besides the furniture of a ihansion, the doors and their casings, the windows with their sashes, the fire-place with its jaimbs -tud mantles, and indeed the entire fiace of the walls, require not only proportion but aritistic decoration. HIere architecture, sculpture and painting all mieet to create decorative art. Walls, made either of wood or plaster, have been decoriated by carvings as in English oak, by painting as in Italian fresco, by needle-work as in ancient and modern tapestry. Ceiling cornices may be moulded in stucco, and carved in wood; or, nmere shading in paper or fiesco niay accomnplis.h their effect. Heavy doors may be in oak or bronze; but delicate winidow-tracings must be partly ini metal. Even balcony railings, anciently cuuibersome, become light and graceful in mnodern castings. SECT. 3. TRAVELING EQUIPAGE; TRAPPINGS OF ANIMALS AND STYLES OF VEHICLES. Called from home by business or pleasure, traveling equipage is required for guiding and controliig animinals, and for the cariiage of the rider; either the back of the animal, or a vehicle diawn behind him, serving this purpose. The horse, favorite for his strength and swiftness, is managed by rude tribes without saddle or bridle; the Greeks had these so sim1ple as to originate the fatble of the centaurs; while the Persians, with Asiatic sumptuousness., loaded down their horses with triap-l)pings. The Asiatic uses the donkey, camel and elephant as well as the horse; showing a special taste in decking their halters, sad(Iles and howdahs; and froii the days of Abraham to Jesus, in Western Asia, a donkey or niule has been a princely riding beast. In Engypt the chariot, not the saddle, was from early times enploye(l. The Ronians in their country, less hilly than Greece, adopted the chaiiot; covering not only Italy but Western Asia with paved carriage-roads for their narrow vehicles. 392 BOOK ILL,USTRATIONS AND PICrTURE BORDERS. 393 SECT. 4. BOOK ILLUSTRATIONS AND PICTURE BORDERS; TIIEIR I)E SIGN AND TilE PRINCIPLE OF TIIEIR ADAPTATION. Besides his l,h.iyicil needs man has intellectual wanlts; to lmeet whichl art ad(,li'eses tihe eye. W'lhile rude tribes firolm necessity used picture writillng, Egyptian wise men employed it to conceal their imeaning, firom the multitude. Unider Christian civilization, pre-eminently, art has conme to the aid of written speech. Egyptian records and monuments show that the idea of an enlaig,ed and ornaniented initial letter was of early origin. In Christian history the "lining" or "illtitiiitiifg" of the text in niissals or liturgies containing prayers at?s(ts, became a high art. From the crimson red enlployed, such works were called "rubrics." Retained in earlv German and English prinrting, ritualists still perpetuate it in rieliious literature. In modern times the art of engraving fills the place of ancient liuinigi; its tendency, not only in light literature but in solid science, being to exclude rather than aid true apl)rehension. An esthetic, distinct firom the intellectual want, deuiaiids that the painter's canvas have a finished border and the statue a pedestal; and design in decorative art seeks an appropriate supply for this lack. The leading idea in a picture-fianle is, that its slope inward seem a window or doorway through which the view is obtained. Its forni and color should suit the tone of the general design. For landscape the rectangle as of a window half opened, and for portrait the oval are preferred because appropriate. lWhile the inner riml should be plain, the exterior may be adorned with geometric or floral decorations in imitation of wreaths. Gilt stucco gives richness to a picture by its reflected light. Special skill is required in mountiing and hanging paintings inii a gallery. In statuary, regard should be had to the proportions of the pedestal and the color of the backgrouiind. A statuette should always be elevated on a mantel or bracket, and a colossal statue on a broad pedestal of' dark nmaterial; while a life-size statue should standl neaily on a level wvith the beholder. Statues in nichles, as the Greeks learned, need, as in the open air, an azure background to give the best relief. R ART CRITICISM. SECT. 5. INSIGNIA OF PERSONAL RANK AND OF NATIONALITY, WITrH 'IIEIR SYMBOIIC CHARACTER AND ELABORATE ADAPTATION; DE FEN.-IVE ARMIOR AND OFFENSIVE WFEAPONS. The relations of civil society, calling for officers with authority to( us.e force, require badges of rank and instruments of power. In signia of rank are borne on the forehead and left breast and in the right hand, as the seats of intelligence, affection and power. The first token of civil )owe-l is the sceptre; an emblem borne by tiebrew princes and Grecian chiefs; IJlsses' "rod" being distiuguished from the o.ekdlio-, ol c(ditceus, borne by heralds, as i)lericury; and also firom the se /tale, or baton, of the Greek general. In Clristian ages the crosier or sheplheid's crook, an ecclesiastical )adge, has been made to accompany the scelptre of civil and the b. toii of military authoriity which is buiresqued in the tall horseliaii tufted poles of officials in Eastern Asia. The second b-).ad(e of rank is the crown; illustrated in the cap of Egy)tiaiin and tlleblrew pries.ts, and in the P'ersiin t~ar(, which in its band fiurnished the type of thel modern diadem, out of whichll has grown the tril)le crown of the Papal ecclesiastic. The third badge, the star or rosette, is perhaps the "I(tuss c(tti,ts" worn bv Romans of consular rank; whence also originated the "banner" of feudal lords. The rosette on the left breast is now the only distinctive badge of Turkish officials. 3Iilitary insignia, more elaborate than civic, include standards, or national syiiibols, and en.signs, or party signals. These take the form of a banner stretched and supported at its centre, or of a flag floatiiig firee in the breeze. The ternm "colors" refers to the fact that for distinctness pure colors, as red, are chosen as a contrast to sky a,d earth. The Egyptian standards were feather-shaped; the Persians carried silk streamers; Themiistocles' battle-flag was of searilet; while the Romans, beginning with a wisp of straw on a spear, added the animal forms of the eagle, the wolf, the iiniiotaur, the horse and the boar. The former of these, under the consul Mariiis, about B. C. 104, became the sole recognized syiubol; beneath which hung the banner of square silk. To this was added the vIexllmii or swallow-tailed flag, as a cavalry ensign. Mlodern Christian civilization has retained the old nmilitary emblems. With military ensigns are directly associated armor for defence 39.1 INSIGNIA OF OFFICE AND REITIGIOITS VESSELS. 395 and weapons for offence. The former includes the helmet, casque or cap for the head, the coat of mail or corselet for the body, greaves fol the legs, sandals or boots for the fect, and the movable shield. ANWeapons of offence, as to the mode of wielding and the distance at which they are used, include three classes; those for br-uising, as the club, whirling niace and sling-stone; for thrusting, as the knife, spear, dagger, bayonet, lance and arrow; and for slashing, as the axe and sword. SECT. 6. RELIGIOUS VESSELS AND SYMBOLS; FESTAL DECORATIONS AN)D FUNEREAL MONUMENTS AND TABLETS. iMoral and religious cravings call for memiorial symbols to be supplied by decorative art. The two ideas of offering and of purification, aside firom the conception of inm ges of Deity which belongs to sculpture, embrace the fields of religious symbolism proper. The Greeks and Romans had their altars and vases; as the Hebrews had their altar, table and censer, and their font and vases; and as the Christian Church has its fonts and bowls for Baptism, and plates, ewers and chalices for the Sacred Supper. To these the Hiebrew and Christian systems add the peculiar provision for spiritual enlightenment embodied in the ark with its tables and books of the law; to which the Christian faith, more inmperative than any other in its demands on decorative art, adds candelabras, the pulpit, book-stands and furnished pews. Social and civil relations, founded in the moral nature, seek in religious festivities at once the recreation and refining of an associated community. Festal decorations have taken the floral and the geometric or architectural types; the floral being borrowed directly firom nature in the peasant's wreaths and garlands; the architectural agreeing with the measured and polished character of city and court life. The latter, scientific in principle, should always be the foundation of the former; as the arborescent of the Gothic never reaches its climax except when grounded upon the framework of the Grecian and Roman. Tombs and their inscriptions speak of the end of human life. The true idea of burial is the grave; where "dust returns to dust;" over which a slab was laid or a headstone was reared. The idea ART CRITICISM. of the soul's inseparable union to the body, originating the embalming of the body and sealed tomnl)s, reached its A.siatic cliimax in the pyramids and rock-tombs of Egypt, and its degeneraite Grecianll extravagance in the nau.soleltt z of Artemiisia. The com)iprehensive spirit of Christianity adopts every species of funeral moniument in its tablets; recording memiories and setiniernts speaking to the soul. CHIAPTER II. ASIATIC DECORATIVE ART; RUDIMENTARY IN STYLE, DEFECTIVE IN FORM, EXCESSIVE IN ORNAMENT, BUT ELABORATE IN FINISH. IN decorative art Asiatics fill benind Europeans in conceptions of style, form and color, but are superior in the patient labor of the hand. SECT. 1. THE INDIAN AS TIlE PERMIANENT SOURCE, AND TITE EGYP TIAN AS THE ANCIENT STOREHIOUSE, OF ASIATIC DECORATIVE AIRT. From India in the earliest days came even to E,gy pt, as well to Syria and Phoenicia, and afterward to Greece and Rome, every foriu of luxury in decorative art; as now they come to modern Europe. As Herodotus and Pliny conceded to the Indians superiority in this department over the Greeks and Rolinans, so mode,n English residents agree that in silk and cotton weaving, wood and ivory ornamlentation, Indian operatives show skill superior to that of Western Europe. The long-hidden Egyptian tomnbs, rich in minute works of art, reveal a special religious idea presiding over the secular life of that people; well illustrated in their sacred symbols and utensils. The globe with wings, or beetle holding the ball containing its maturirng eggs, with asps ready to devour its young when hatched, the sacred vases of fruit and water deposited for the dead, finely inoulded and finished, indicate in their conception,supel-iori intellect, guiding gross superstition. Among other articles the Egyvptian earthelnware is second only to the Etruscan; while Egyptia-tn glass is first in ranuk. The Imosaic in the British Museuiii is inimitable by mod 396 CIIINESE, ITEPREW AND ARABIAN ])E('ORATION. 397 ern art; wlhile the enameled obelisks in the Great Oa-sis, mentioned by Pliny, must have i-ivaled the Porcelain Tower at Nankin. SECT. 9. CHIIINESE AND JAPANESE AS TIlE DEGENERATING STAGE, AND POT,YNESIAN AND AMIERICAN AS TIlE DEGRADED DECLINE OF ASIATIC DE(CORATIVE ART. WAlile infitrior in some arts to the Indian, Chinese ornamental Dlanufactures are in porcelain superior. This superiority depends partly on the fine material found in their mountains; the infusible portion, k7(oliSi or clay, and the fusible, pctuotse or silicon, furnishilng their inimitable watery white porcelain, which is colored by metallic oxides. This art of China the Greeks knew and called it ker-'IliiCOs; but the Portuguese were the first to bring it to Europe. In all other respects Chinese art is a deg,eneracv; the exuberant fancy displayed in the endless variety of exported Chinese toys and notions indicating a lack in elevated sentiment. Japanese decoration excels the Chinese in both color and form. The nmethod of giving adhesion to colors laid on metal, as that called japanling, seems peculiar to that people. Every voyager to the Pacific isles adds to the treasures of Polynesian decorative art; while every wandering camp of Anmerican Indians has its venders of rude decorated workmanship. A careftill comparison with the line of kindred art westward to China indicates a kindred taste; displaying itself in fondness for pure colors and fine texture in material. The northern tribes decorate buffalo hides and the southern the delicate buffalo pleura, with the same colors; while for carvings, ivory, coral or flint are chosen where each is found. SECT. 3. IEBREW DECORATIVE ART; THE CENTRAL AND HALLOWED TYPE OF THE ASIATIC STYLE. The glory of the Hebrews was not military prowess, nor civil dominion, but their possession of the "Oracles of God." All professed revelations, the Vedas, Zendavesta and Koran, have emnanated from Asia; as false coin is issued nigh the source of the true. Both the Old and New Testament, have come to the world mainly from Hebrew pens. Hebrew art excelled in religious emblems; thieir altar and candlestick becoming types for all ages. Not only the vessels of their 34 ART CRITTCISAf. worship, and their priestly vestmnents'adorned with golden fiinges presenting alternately a bell and a pomnegranate, but even common utensils, were so hallowed that " Holiness to the ILord"' was to be inscribed "on the bells of the horses." The Hebrew, therefore, has become for all subsequent ages, uninterrupted by progressing European civilization, the type of religious snymbolism. SECT. 4. ARABIAN, PHt(ENICIAN, SYRIAN AND ASSYRIAN DECORATIVE ART; THE FIRST STAGE OF ADVANCE IN THE ASIATIC STYLE. The Arabians. an intelligent and permanent Shlieniitic fimily, have possessed a high type of decorative art. This eminence is indicated in the designation Arabesquie; a term applied to the tracer-vwoik heaped upon the faladles of MToorish palaces and mosques in the mediaeval age, and given since to highly embossed work. With the Assyviians. between India and Asia Minor, decoration was a chief aspiration in art; the pictures given by the Hebrew writers and by Herodotus and Pliny illustrating this characteristic; while the explorations of Layard have made it palpable in imnplements and utensils of evein variety. Phoenicia, with Tyre its capital, furnishinz the purple dye celebrated among the Greeks and the glass lauded by Pliny, excelled in rich ornament; becoming so exuberant that not only men and women, but their riding camels, were decked with necklaces and jewelry. Finally Syria, with its capital Damascus, lives in the works bearing its name; as (1,taIsk, a silk fab,'ic with embossed figures, damass;1i, a similar silk interwoven with threads of gold and silver, d(imask'i, a sword-blade of rare tempered steel, and d(lm(1sk7ee?7, the adorning of steel sword-blades and scabbards, knives, etc., with inlaid gold and silver thread. This inimitable workmanship forms a link never to be broken in the union of ancient Asiatic and modern European art. When, after the fall of the Roman Empire, Genoa and Venice were bringing not only the material but the arts of Arabia into Europe, one of the most fascinating episodes in Cennini's history of early Italian art is a description of his own enthusiasm in trying to copy the exquisite work on the scabbard of a Damascus scimctar; as Faraday's last triumph was the d(iscovery of the composition of Arabia:l steel which formed its blade. 398 PEPRSIAN, GRECIAN AND ROMAN DECOR,ATlON. 399 SECT. 5. PERSIAN AND GREEK COLONIAL DECORATIVE ART; THE MIOST ADVANCED ASIATIC, AND THE CONNECTING LINK TO THE GRECIAN TYPE. The connection of the Persians with both Southern Asia and with the Greeks, as indicated by Homier, Ilerodotus and Xeno])llon, is more intimate in ornamental than in the higher arts. Thle pyramidal tombs alike of Hector and Achilles, the sccptres both of Priami and Aganlemnon, are links reaching firom Egypt to Greece. The adoption by the Greeks of the chaste architectural trefoil of Persia. and their rejection of the high cap and necklaces p)eculiar also to the Egy-I)tians, show that this intercommnuiceation in art was only partial. The couch for reclining at mea.ls, borrowed fi',ln Persia thliough Asiatic Greece, whose history is epitomized iti the 1lbie of latthlew addressing Asiatics, iln the lolidlio, of Luke appealing to Greeks, and in the kr(bl)b(atott or Latin gr(b)bIatutr of )lark writing for Romtan readers, is a specimlen of the telndency of luxury to pass fiom a lower to a higher civilization. CHAPTER III. ~[TROPEAN DECORATIVE ART; CONTROLLED BY THE ALTERNATING PROGRESS AND DECLINE OF SCIENCE AND ART, OF SOCIAL, IN TELLECTUAL, MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMIPROVEIMENT. As the traditional reverence of the Asiatic for the past is specially manifest in dress, equipage, furniture, imiplements, utensils and personal ornaments, so is the European spirit aspiring to progress. SECT. 1. GRECIAN AND ROIAN DECORATIVE ART; THE ONE EXACT IN FORM AND CHASTEI IN FINISH; THE OTHER ELABORATE IN DETAIL AND PROFUSE IN ORNAMIENT. In higher art the Grecian artist showed three national characteristics: first, iiathemnatical exaetnes:in formi, as in archlitectural ornalnentation; second, simplicity in outline, as in tlhe curve of their Etruscan vase unbroken oy embossments; and third, elaborateness ART CRITICISM. of finis,. These characteristics niade thle Greeks in somne respects eclectic; as when in sculpture the eaily Ionic style of feniale dress, with lhair curled or firizzled and held by a jew-eled fillet, and long robes, was harnonized with the ltter D()riian fashioii of plain straight hlair tied in a knot, and short skirts. The control of mathematical simplicity in Grecian decorative art is seen alike in the tripod as opposed to four-footed supports of chairs and tables, and in plain vases for holding, the ashes of the dead. The cumnbersomie and gorgeous detail which prevailed in Romnan architecture pervaded Roiuan decorative art. The labor devoted by the Greek to polish, the Romana exhausted in enmbossed decorations. The severe religious simplicity inculcated at Romne by Numa, abjuring imiages and leaving the Pantheon walls blank, gave to Roman art a permanent foundation of strength, to which luxury added a gorieous exterior; as is seen in the relics of lPonipeii. In dress Roman plainness preserved the t,i[ica or fiock-shirt, called stola fox females, at first short and without sleeves, and the toga or sack-coat, known as pall(i, for woiien; while, however, the native fondness for ornament displayed itself in the rings unlliversally worn by men. and in the profusion of jewelry decorating tlheir woinien. Their variety in elaborate furniture and equipage forbids enuiiieration. SECT. 2. EARLY CHRISTIAN DECORATIVE ART; MIARlEr) ESPECI ALLY BY SYMIBOLS OF RELIGIOUS IDEAS PECULIAR TO TIlE NENV FAITH. I)iognctus, the teacher of Marcus Aurelius, about B. C. 140, wrote of the early Christians: "They are not distinguishled from other men by their place of residence, their language or manners." In decorative art the early Christians were transformed in nothing but in religious syniibols. Didron, Ituinter and Lord Lindlay have illustrated the emnblems wroug,ht into early Christian decorative art. The representation of God the Father was a hand and armn stretchled froiu a cloud. The Son was symbolized by the monograml X and p, foiuo Chliistos, overla)ping; by a cross, a lamib, a lamp, a vine, a rock an(l a pelican; andJ also by a fish, the Greek Ichth?ts bein,g man(le up of the initials of IC5so?lts, Chi'tos, Theos, V?kos, Soter. The Roly 400 EARTLY CHRISTIAN AND MEDIEVALT DECORATION. 401 Spirit was figured by a dove bearing an olin e branch; also by a candlestick witih seven branches. The Tiinity was pictured by three beamrs of light radia.ting firom Christ's head; by a rainbow with three ailches; by the tllumb, fore and index fingers of Christ raised erIect; or by the index finger straight and the thumb hooked, the index and ring finger crossed, and the little fingei crooked, mnaking togethler the letters I. C. and X. C., the first and last letters of Zc'soIs C/l'istos. The four Evvangelists were designated( in generail by four rivers; and in particular, )Mattlew by an angel, 3Taik by a lion, Luke by an ox, and John by an eagle. Among the apostles, Paul was indicated by a sword, and P'eter by the keys. The three graces, Faith, Hlope and Charity, were represented by the cross, anchor and heart; purity by a lily; incorrul)tibility by a rose; victory by a wireath of palmn; and peace by an olive-branch. The sacracrment of baptismi was snymbolized by water poured on the cross, and the Lord's Supper by wheat in the ear and grapes, or by a loaf of bread and a cup of wine. SECT. 3. MTEDIlEVAI, DECORATIVE ART, ECCLESIASTIC AND SECULAR; ARTIFICIAL IN DESIGN' AND LIMIITL,ESS IN INVENTION. After Constantine iimages took the place of synlmiols; God the Father was pictured as an old man; the Council of Trent, A. )D. )69)2, ordered that imrages of Christ should be substituted foi tlhe symibol of the Lanmb; and till the eighthl century, mnasteri)ieces of desi-n in mosaic and painting were produced. Then synibolisin aga,in became prominent; showing its character in elibleIms of' ap)ostolic and priestly offices, and in the dress of the head and person of the Virg'in. Architecture having assumed a distinct ecclesiastical type, called for decoration: the common designation, ky?/r'( 7e, krclie, ii'/,, or chtrilch, indicating the prominence which the "Lord's" 1horse had attained. The edifice. in giround-plot a cross, with the choir as its head, the transept as its cross-arms, and the nave as its body, had a nairrow section of the nave at the entrance called tratihex or oblong, fei)eed off for penitents. The choir was firescoed or hung wvithl oil paintings and had niches for statuary; its floor had a raised 1)latfolrll or w)e0ii(7, ith a fiont railing called c(incelli or clancel; ullp)on tlhe be1i(a was an altar, before which was the cathedra or bishop's chair. called firom its sanctity, hiecriateioii, firon its seclusion adytoil, 34; ART CRITICISMf. and from its authority, p)esy?ter-ion7; and on one side was the pulpit for the preacher. The organ and choir gallery, at first behind the altar, was afterward moved to the side or transept, then to the front of the nave. On one side near the door or in a separate building in the rear was the baptistery; and in a tower, at first joined with, then separated firom, the front, were the bells. Each of these portions of the edifice with its furniture became a field for elaborate ornament. Doors, windows and pavements in churches, also were ornamented; the doorways with carvings in stone, often grotesque in style; the windows with stained glass, superior in execution though rude in design; and the pavemlents with mosaics after the RIoman style. To this'decoration the spirit of Christianity and of art alike agreed; the criticism of extreme refornm showing its unphilosophie cast in the objection of Bernard to the pavement: "Those passing over them often spit in the mouth of an angel, or grind the face of some saint with their heels." In dress the common people followed national customs; a few ascetics, pointing to John's camel-hair raiment, and insisting that Christians of patrician rank lay aside the toga; while the intelligent, like Tertullian, regarding Jesus' example, exclaimed: "We are no Hindoo fakirs!" In the dress of ecclesiastics excessive richness grew up; and the tiara of the Persian noble, the stole or robe of the Roiiian Pontifex Maximius, the ephod of the Jewish high-priests, and the 7-iiig and crosier were adopted. The civic and military decoration styled "heraldry" and "bla zonry," firom herald and blasen, to proclaim, designed to indicate the nationality, community and family of knights when conmpletely cased in armor, though known in the age of Henry I. of England, was perfected as a system during and after the Crusades. The field or escutcheon, having a crest above, a scroll below and the colors at the sides, was divided into nine compartments. The three at the top and the three at the bottom were horizontal; the former being called the dexter, middle and sinister chiefs; the latter the dexter middle ftnd sinister basis; while the three uniting them were perpendicular, called honor, fess and nonibril points. Diagonal bands, called chief, pale, bend, bend sinister. fess, bar, chevron, cross and saltire, and also eight curved or bent lines, entitled the eng,raved, inverted, wavy, embattled, nebuly, raguly, in 402 CHANGES IN IIANDICRAFT AND IMPLIEMiENTS. 403 dented and dancette, slubdivided the field. Nine colors were introduced: or or gold, gatlc or red, azi're or blue, s(tl)le or black, vert or green, pitrpl)?tc or purl)le, te,iy?l or oranlge, s(llgiinec or crimson, and ?)t?lrey or brown-red. Finally, various figures, as crosses, siells, birds, beasts, dragons, stars, flowers, etc., called charges, were inserted. SECT. 4. MODERN ChANGES IN' MATERIAL AND HANDICRAFT; MIOD IFYING TIlE STYLE, AND DETERIORATING THE FINISH OF ORNA IIENTAL WORK. New species of material and new forms of the old have been introduced into decorative art; miodifying its form and style. Cheapl) iron castings take the place of elaborately wrought bronze and nicely hewn marble. Modern IParian, as plastic as clay, rivals the finest porcelain. In coloring the imoii' aottiq?ie, giving by the action of acids on metallic plates rainbow hues in wavy lines, opens a new field of art. While modern machinery gives exactness of form, the neglect of handicraft, because of this easier method, tends to a degeneracy in the execution of the carver and chiseler. The aid of improved chemlical agents makes easy the former severe toil of Cennini in ctlamcskee)li?,g; but in porcelain and glass staining, experiment has not attained to the chenmical law employed by the Asiatic. SECT. 5. M[ODERN METHODS OF LOCOMIOTION AND ENGINES OF WAR; VARYING TIIE FORMt AND ADORNMENT OF VEHICLES AND OF VESSET.S. AND REVOLUTIONIZING TIIE STYLES OF ARMOR AND WEAPONS. In convenient adaptations for animal carriage the moderns have made impl)rovements on ancient methods; though these should not be confounded with ornamentation. The use of steam has introduced on land and sea traveling mansions. The modern car invites paneled walls, carving and painting. Passenger-vessels, having their exterior marred by unsightly clihnneys, demiand a peculiar skill in securing external grace. The inner saloons, rivaling palace aplartments, require tact in order to secure proportion; on which alone the excess of decoration assumnes a worthy aspect. In the conflicts of bordering nations the invention of gunpowder ART CRITICISM. and modern projectiles has substituted for lustrous metal designed for defence, variegated woolens and silks; which in actual service are subdued into the sober blue and grlay of close-fitting jackets, with a simpl)le leaf, eagle or star on the shoulder to indicate rank. Modern offensive weapons, cannon, guls anid pistols, exposed to soot and smoke, at their first invention, and since as niere ornamenets for prineel- hands. have been enriched with inlaid and enibossed decoration; as is seen alike in the mnatchlock muskets of the Inauran of lMusceat and in the richly emibossed brass (cannon of Louis XIV. 1Weapons for service require elaborate polish but no ornalmlent. SE(CT. 6. M[ODEIRN VIEwlS OF POPULI.xR EQUALITY; SIMPL,IFYING OFFICIAL INSIGNIA AND MULTIPLYIN( ILI,USTRATIVE 3IETI-IODS OF IAIMPATING KXNOwL-,EI)GE. Ascetie and cynie philosoplhy in religion and politics may become extreme in demandingt simpllicity in dress and ornanment aI)propriate to civil and religious offices. In the French Legislative Assenibly, and in the Lower IHouse of the English P'arliainent, the rieedit-rvil insignia are laid aside. In the Amnerican republic, no badge manks the highest executive and legislative officials; only the robe of the chief judicial officers being a mleiioriial of the ancient insignia. Mlilitary and naval official badges, however, remain in every land true to ancient ideas; as their office is unchlanged by ameliorating civilization. In childhood and among uncultured peOl)le the e ye instructs the nmind. Expl)anding reason, how-ever, forms truer conceptions by its own efforts at comprehension; reaching the reality, where childhood stops at the image. In a communiity where all are educated, the necessity for early application to industrial pursuits makes the mllental traillinig of mnost youth purely elenientaiy. This necessitates the nmultiplying in seihool-rooniis and in text-books of illustrations which address the eye. The pure niatlhematies tmust be illustrated by diagranis; but, in the apl)lied matheiiiatics the pupil should be trained to finm his conceptions of mnechailismll independently of aplaratus. In the file arts the artist miust learn to conceive with no mnodel beforec tlhe eye, and the critic niay be hindered instead of aided by the ima 404 MODIFICATIONS IN ILLUSTRATIVE DEVICES. 405 perfect drawings of the text-book. By the missal paintings of the Mliddle Ages, as well as by the engraved Scripture illustrations of modern times, the intellect is only aroused; its apprehension niust be completed by its own effort. In history, natural, civil and religious, ill science and in symibolismn, secular and Chlristian, imodernl progress modifies, but does not supersede book illustrations. SECT. 7. MODERN REFINEMENTS IN 3IETAPIIYSICAL AND THIEOLOGI CAL SCIENCE; ORIGINATING NEWV DEVICES TO REPRESENT SPIRIT U-AL TRUThI AND FUTURE SPIRITUAL LIFE. Intellectual progress, manifestly extending in every portion of Europe and reacting on Asia, is tending to unity in habits, customs and conveniences of life; as is seen in the assimilation of dress, of iodes of locomotion and of military armament reaching from Constantinople to London. A kindred unity in metaphysical, moral and religious convictions is leading on firom more refined forms of personal (adorinment and of civic insignia to Imore spiritual religious symbols and funereal menlorials. In American society, where every folrm of European and even Asiatic and Afiican. prejudice and precedent, social, civil and ecclesiastical, are meeting, even churches and cemeteries indicate a tendency to unity in conception. Mluch of man's devotion to art ever has shown and ever will show itself in filneral monuments; which speak of the deceased at once, in pleasant memory of his past, and in lively hope of his future. Thle Egyptian kings carried this sentiment at first to an extreme; building pyramidal abodes, as much more costly than their palaces as the body's rest in one was to be longer than in the other; while during all their history Egyptian royal tomlbs were as expensive as their temples. In its early history, German, English and American sculpture has been chiefly confined to funeral mnonunients; to which also it mlust be permanently devoted. Unity, however, ilmplies a whole nmade up of differing parts; for we do not speak of the unity of a rock, but of the unity of a tree or landscape. Unity, therefore, in science or art is true when it creates a whole of infinite variety. In nothing more than in funereal monuments, which embody the sweetest Imemories of the past, the most exalted conceptions of imagination and the liveliest hopes of the future, has this unity in variety shown its pervading power. ART CRITICISM. The marked distitnction between mnodern Christiall and ancient Egyptian, Hebrew and even Grecian and Romanr types for funeral monuments, is to be traced to the distinct philosophy of each as to the power and province of death. The spirit of the ancients was based on the idea that matter is eternal; in its nature possessed by indwelling evil; as uncreated beyond the power of the spiritual Ruler and liedeemer to transform and purify; and tlience for ever shut up to the lament, which " says to corruption,' Thou iart ilily fathcer,' and to the worm,'Thou art my mother.' " The EgyI)tian and Hebrew, even till the burial of Jesus Christ, enibalmed the body and sealed it in a tomb; while the Greek and Roman burned it to ashes and enclosed it in an urn. The Christian idea is based on the fact of Christ's personal bodily purity and immortality; that matter, made from nothing by God's word, is not in itself evil, or controlled by its power, but that after death "both soul and body" may be redeemed. The spirit of this revelation has led Christians and even Mohanimedans to deck the dead body with flowers and to inscribe on funereal inonunmelts such devices as the dove bearing a rosebud to heaven, and the worm breaking the chrysalis and soaring with wings. The consideration of funereal mionuments under the Christian revelation is a fitting close to this treatise on the fine arts and their criticism. iMonumients to the dead demand from all the arts, drawing, sculpture, architecture, landscape-gardening and decoration, their highest efforts. It is the field for art, last in order, speaking of man's final end; it is the most exalted, looking to his higher life; and it is exhaustless, drawing emblems from every field of nature, and from the philosophy and poetry of all ages and nations. Above all, it embodies the highest conceptions of the true, the beautiful, and the good this side the grave; and deriving its light firom a purer world, it aspires to the perfect right in its home beyond the tomb. 406 ILLUSTRATIONS. IN a concise and comprehensive text-book, covering the field of all the fine arts, it is impossible that any considerable attempt tIo furnish engraved illustrations should be expected. To obtain a thorough mastery in detail of each department the teacher and thorough student have three resources: first, works of art themselves gathered in chief cities; second, large and numerous engraved copies of such works collected in well-appointed libraries; and third, photographic views of the best existing works in sculpture, architecture and painting, now readily obtained either in personal tours in Europe or through the leading houses of our colnmiercial cities. In the department of drawing any teacher can furnish himself with elementary illustrated works, and especially with specimens of wood and copper-plate engravings, lithographs and photographs. In sculpture, stereoscopic views, with an ordinary stereoscopic instrument, should be employed; in painting, which forbids stereoscopic views, excellent photographs as well as engravings may be procured; while in architecture, collections of engravings and of both monocular and binocular photographs are requisite to a thorough student. In the illustrations which follow three are designed to present important principles in perspective; while all the remainder are devoted to the most practically important art, that of architecture. In the latter the author has availed himself of drawings prepared for various works, chiefly English. 407 PLATE I. Fi;q. 1.-A geometric figure, presenting two squares of equal surface, the one at twice the distance from the eye of the other; in which the lines of vision in both the horizontal and vertical planes are seen to diverge from the eye as a focus, the line subtending this angle and formiing the third side of a triangle increasing in length in proportion to its distance firom the eye. It is thus observed that one-fourth of the square nearest the eye hides fromn view the entire square at twice the distance; and in general, that the field of vision enlarges in the ratio of the square of the distance. Pig. 2.-Lionardo's diagram; showing that by the sight of the two eyes more than half the contour of a ball comes within the field of vision, and that the entire surface of a wall behind the ball is distinctly in view; thus exhibiting the two principles of binocular perspective. FPt. 3.-An optical illustration of the diminution both in breadth and heighth of a line of objects as they are removed farther from the eye; presenting a specimen of linear perspective. 408 s' 0' 3~~~~~~0 S.,.i 35 PLATE II. Fig. 4.-The delicate or adorned order of Egyptian columns; having the open flower of the lotus as its capital, a slender shaft and an ornamented foot. Fig. 5.-The medium, or Osiride Egyptian column; having as its capital a female face, with cows' ears and a hooded turban, above which rises the facade of a miniature temple as a cap to the head; with its shaft plain or sculptured, and its base straight and unadorned. Fig. 6.-The robust order of Egyptian columns; having the lotus bud as its capital, the reeded and banded shaft in imitation of a bundle of lotus stalks, and the foliations of the tuber-root of the lotus as its base. Fig. 7.-The true and false Egyptian cornice; the former having, a curve forward olnly in the upper half of its elevation, which curve is swept by the radius of one-half the height of the cornice; the false hlaving its curve from the base of the cornice, with its entire height as radius. Fig. 8.-A section of the reeded and banded robust Egyptian column; illustrating the geometric precision of its fluting. Fig. 9.-iIodel of a pylon preserved in front of the temple at Edfoo; about 100 feet high and 300 feet in breadth. Fig. 10.-Interior of a public hall in India; the ceiling supported by tree-trunks, with branches at top, employed as sustaining columnls. Fig. 11.-Facade of the Temple of Dendera erected by the RoIomans; having Osiride columns; showing the flat roof; and ad(ingi a latticed-screen between the columns rising to about onehalf their hei,ght. 410 ' ":2t ___ 9 I, -~ ~*5;?)) ~' __ I___ __ 10 I!;tUIJ/t __I" A ___ 11 7 ~.9!::'! 411 I i I i I l I PLATE III. Fiq. 12.-Grecian Corinthian; its capital tall in proportion tc, its breadth, and hlaving only foliations, or leaf ornaiments, usually of tlhe acanthus. Fig. 13.-Grecian Tonic column; fiont view; showing the sidG curls, intervening fillet and jewel droplets; exhlibiting also the base and taper of the shaft. Fi/. 14.-Grecian Doric column; the middle of the shaft cut out, showing the amount of its taper fromi bottomi to top. Fig. 15.-Front of a temple )ii acttis; hiavingr two Ionic columns in a recess. Fig. 16.-The log-cabin as the model of the Grecian temple, after the suggestion of Vitruvius; the end of the rtfters grooved forimting the triglyphs, and the spaces between called 7netopes, originally left open in the plain Doric temple. Fiq. 17.-Front of the Parthenon; slyowing the platforrni; the firoit Doric colum-lns; the entablature; tle gcitle slope of tlhe roof; aId the tym1panumn with its recess filledl with statuary. 412 ..q' : ~ ~ I It: L — I Th, h iy — i! — -~~~~~~~~~ __i__i 9~~~~1 - - -7 1f 61 _______~~~~~~~~ I Q,LLYc~LL '111 HLI[1Vid ! T, i i I' I i l!' i I , i;I PLATE IV. Fig. 18.-The outlet of the Cloaca Maxima, or great sewer of ancient Rome; the best preserved arch of the early Roman era. Fig. 19.-Plan of the hemispheric Roman dome; showing the inrtersections and slope of the stones formning its double curvature. Fig. 20.-Plan of the Roman arch; the faces of its stones lying in planes cutting the axis of the half-cylinder formed by its curve. Fig. 21.-The Roman Ionic; more elaborate than the Grecian; at corners having a side front, the cm'l projecting diagonally be tween the two faces. Fig. 22.-The Roman Doric; with capital more elaborate than the Grecian; having floral decorations. Fig. 23.-The Tuscan column; the improved gate-post; the plainest of the Roman orders. Fig. 24.-The Roman Composite order; with the curls of the Ionic and the foliations of the Corinthian united. Fig. 25.-The Roman Corinthian; stouter than the Grecian; having also strong spines in the centre and a heavy curl of the leaves at the corners. Fig. 26.-The Tomnb of Absalom; cut from the solid rock east of Jerusalem under Herod the Great in the age of Augustus; a Roman mingling of Grecian and Asiatic styles; the base being Ionic and the upper part an Indian pagoda. Fig. 27.-The Tomb of Zachariah; of the age also of Herod and Augustus, having an Ionic base and an Egyptian pyramid above. Fig. 28.-The Temple of Vesta, still standing at Rome; a specimeni of a circular edifice, with surrounding colonnade, and having a roof of tiles. 414 k~~~? I .f -4 - T'-3 Ir- a ,,, 7 7 11 - -.11 — i I I. .' - I I 1 Z4 17 - = -7 1 11 -ff - - i -6j — I - 11, PLATE V. Feq. 29.-The Coliseumn at Romie; with elliptical groundplot; and having four orders of pilasters: the Doric, Ionic, Corinthianii and Coiiiposite, in stages above each other on its exterior. Fig. 30.-The Pantheon; its circular walls and hemnispheric dome being among the oldest and best preserved works of the days of the Roman kings; the Grecian portico being built under the early emperors, and the two bell-towers added by Christian bishops. Fig. 31.-Faqade of the Basilica di San Spirito at Florence, Italy; showing the scroll-relief above the wings. Fig. 32.-A section of a basilica church; showing its interior structure; the roofed centre being much higher than the wings. 416 I z-ip ~~ / Is I o I I 1 11,! 19 I 1 I I;:i!" i4 fE i i I .i a I ., III I PLATE VI. Fig. 33.-Section of the Byzantine church of St. Sophia at Constantinople; shlowing the interior supports of the dome. Fig. 34. -Pitch of roofs as a fundamental element in architectural styles; the Egyptian without slope; the Grecian having but a few degrees of elevation; the Roman a right angle at the peak, inscribed in the semicircle of the Roman arch; the Gothic 60~, or less, at the apex. Fig. 35.-The Mosque of Omar at Jerusalem; the groundplot of the Greek cross changed to an octagonal form; the dome Byzantine. Fig. 36.-The elements of the Gothic arch, formed of two arcs of circles whose centres are at A and B; the line of its outward thrust' lying in the direction of the chord C D, which subtends two-thirds of one of the two arcs, or one-third of both the arcs, forming the arch. F,q. 37.-Line of pressure in the semi-circular Roman arch; its resultant lying in the direction C D of the chord B C of 60~, or of one-third of the semi-circle forming the arch; its lateral thru it requiring that the supporting wall slope outward in that line, )r have a weight, strength or adhesion of material equivalent, as a counterpoise to that thrust. 418 i PLATE VT. ffl _ flJL~ Fi iIf1rFl 36 A - ---- = - =.3;\- B LL 419 r 33 In ). I. r n 0 r, PLATE VII. Fig. 38.-Crypt of Glasgow Cathedral; showing the junctures of the stones in the Gothic arch. Fig. 39.-Arched ceiling of a tomb at Delhi, India; illustrating the perpetuated use of the Gothic arch among the Asiatics. Fig. 40.-Arch covering an ancient sewer in Nimroud, or Nineveh; showing that the Gothic, as well as the circular arch, was known to the ancient Chaldeans and Brahmins. Fig. 41.-Norman architecture; walls of finished stone, decorated Roman arches, and notched embattled parapet. Fig. 42.-Saxon architecture; a wall of unhewn stone; with Roman arched windows and a plain parapet. Fig. 43.-The perfected Gothic; the arcs forming the arch meeting at an angle of about 60~, with a roof of corresponding slant; surmounted by decorated pinnacles. lig. 44.-The early pointed Gothic; with three windows, usually united into one. 420 11 PLATE VII. I ~~~~ - i - ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~. 3 39 ii z, d; ii(.... 41 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~I I i 4 3 + tg 3b 421 I I k I 4- D 42 ! i I 44 - -17.. I 2' Il 36 421 PLATE VIII. Fig 45. -Fagade of Westminster Hall, London; a chaste specimen of Tudor Gothic. Fig. 46.-The florid Gothic; with arches having an obtuse angle at the apex; its windows capped with Tudor hoods; and its window tracery, parapet and pinnacles overloaded with elaborate carving. Fig. 47.-Section of the Alhambra, a palace of the Moors at Grenada in Southern Spain; illustrating the excessive ornamentation of the Arabesque or florid Saracenic. Fig. 48.-A Saracenic arch; re-entering like a horse-shoe in a doorway, window or corridor; mitre or acorn-shaped in a dome. 422 i I PLATE VIII. I" ~\II -,.I. I.. eT" 47 48 17 jt x i' i -i _ LI -i _ I-]s g - '1'l~~~~~~~~~~~l A+ 423 I I I i 45 48 47 i PLATE IX. Fig. 49.-The elevation of the central portico, dome and lantern of the U. S. Capitol at Washington, D. C.; illustrating the revived Grecian; three stages of columns and one of pilasters rising abov, each other, all in pure Grecian Corinthian. 424 fI II C ()b \/'A I __ I'll LLOI ] I i I I i Z 6 L 0 dV i' zt i I I i i i